#this was for writer asks awhile back if i recall

[sweaterkittensahoy]

As a writer I immediately recognize you by There’s A Part Of You Always Standing By. Descriptive, gentle and incredibly hot at times, it had me chomping at the bit for each new chapter.

Thank you so much! I am so happy that story has people who love it as much as I do. It was a wild hare that really took on a life of its own, and I'm glad it's being enjoyed and that my style for it worked so well!

[majestyeverlasting]

hi writer! i love your fics :)

would you be down to write a fem!reader x eddie munson fic where eddie and reader go to a concert together for the first time & have their first kiss? i thought that’d be super cute, but write whatever feels right! thank you 💗

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary It’s a summer of firsts—your first road trip, concert, and kiss with Eddie. And you can feel in your bones that it's only the beginning of forever [fluff, 3.8k].

A/N Hi, anon! I loved this request so much. It went through a couple iterations before I settled on what felt right, but now it's finally here. Thank you for your patience. Enjoy!

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

The lone call of a mourning dove registers as a distant beckon on the outskirts of your consciousness. It’s an airy, flute-like melody that seems to grow nearer as you’re coaxed further into wakefulness. Hardly any sunlight streams into the room, only a dull glow that rims the black curtains. As your eyes flutter open, you trace the Iron Maiden posters on the opposite wall before diverting your gaze to the base of Eddie’s dresser, where your packed duffle bag rests on the floor. 

Closing your eyes once again, you tuck your face back into the pillow. It smells like Eddie. A subtle fusion of pine, citrus, and the earthy notes of his skin. However, when you extend a blind arm to run alongside you on the mattress, the warm weight of his presence isn’t there. 

As if sensing your wakefulness, he saunters into the bedroom a couple seconds later. Artificial light pours in from the hallway, and a weak, disgruntled sound rises up your throat. 

He hears it. Of course he hears it. He reckons he’d be attuned to you even if he were miles away. But that doesn’t stop him from walking over and turning on the lamp on the nightstand too. You don’t have a chance to tug the covers over your head because he stills you the second your fingers curl around them. 

“Eddie,” you whine as you squint against the light. 

He squats beside the bed so he’s face to face with you. There’s a sleepy softness to his own gaze, but the upturn of his lips suggests he’s managed to tap into a well of energy within himself. Maybe not the deepest one, but sufficient enough to be unbothered by the fact that the red numbers on the alarm clock display a quarter past seven-o-clock. 

He’s already dressed for the day ahead. Blue jeans, black tee, and silver chain around his neck.

“Time to get up,” he coaxes. You can smell the mint toothpaste on his breath. “Nashville’s waiting for us, sweetheart.” 

He brushes a gentle knuckle across your warm cheek as his eyes briefly flit to your pouty lips. His touch is enough to cut through the remainder of slumber’s haze, reminding you of how excited you are to hit the open road with him for the very first time. 

••• 

It’s easy being with Eddie. You knew that way before you set off for Tennessee. It’s in the soft gazes he casts your way, the steady weight of his hand on your thigh, his curls as they wisp in the wind. Few people come around and make it feel as though you've known them a lifetime. 

Aside from the asphalt of the road, there’s so much green all around, like you’re cocooned in it. Sunlight plays through the trees lining either side as they glide past the windows. You’ve never seen Hoosier National Forest this way, fresh and alive in the early morning light.

Thirty-five minutes into the trip, and an appreciative silence has already fallen between you. The radio plays a hits station down low, and every once in awhile you find yourself humming along to a familiar tune as you gaze outside. 

A folded map rests in your lap, but Eddie hasn’t asked for directions since you left his trailer. It wasn’t news to you anymore, but he was scarily good at making his way around Southern Indiana. He could recall highway names and exit numbers with impressive ease. An acquired skill from moving around with his mom in his youth, skimming maps, and being a good listener when he wanted to be. 

Back when you first became friends, you were surprised to learn that he’d memorized the way to your house after one visit. At night, no less. He claimed it was because he had a pretty worthwhile incentive in you. 

As you continue cruising through the forest, Eddie’s fingers tap an absentminded beat on the steering wheel as his rings catch the light. It’s enough to draw your gaze from the window to study his lean, well-worn hands. The hands of a mechanic. There’s a grace to them too, even after years of fights he never started but always finished.

Thankfully, these days were different, as if the fog had lifted and people began to realize he was more than the rambunctiousness and rough edges they’d build around him in their minds. 

You were once part of the crowd that wondered and wondered some more about Eddie. But as surely as the stars shine in the night sky, getting close to him meant finally seeing the true picture of the boy who, day by day, is stealing more of your heart.

He can feel your gaze on him, but his eyes remain on the road as he bites back a smile.  

•••

Forty miles out from the motel, Eddie takes an exit off the highway and pulls into a Marathon station. A few other cars are parked at gas pumps and in front of the convenience store. The sudden stillness, paired with a gentle shake of your shoulder, prompts your eyes to flutter open. 

Eddie flashes a smile over at you as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Mornin’, sunshine—again.” He reaches over to give your thigh a light squeeze. 

Before he can pull away, you take his hand in yours. “Sorry,” you murmur through a yawn. “I’m supposed to be keeping you company.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “You are,” he assures. “Even when you look like this,” he tips his head against the headrest with his eyes closed and mouth wide open. 

A snort escapes you, and you let go of his hand in favor of punching his shoulder. The blow isn’t nearly hard enough to hurt, but he massages his arm with a wince. 

“I don’t look like that,” you say through a laugh. 

“No,” he sighs in agreement. “You’re way cuter. Can’t even take it.” His lips curl into a grin, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes even then. 

Warmth rises to your cheeks as you bite your lip to keep from smiling wider. 

“Especially when you smile like that,” he says. 

This time, you gently push his shoulder. “Okay, stop, go pump gas,” you whine halfheartedly. 

He laughs as he slips out of the van and you miss him when he shuts the door behind himself. While he’s outside, you push your feet back into your Keds and adjust your shirt on your shoulders. 

Eddie eventually knocks on the driver’s side window and goofily mimes that he’s going to go inside. When he sees you turn to get out, he jogs around the front of the van to open your door for you. 

There’s a gentle breeze outside. The sun shines in an overcast sky. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you stretch your arms above your head, back arching in the process. Eddie’s eyes drift down to where your baby tee has rises to expose a sliver of your skin. 

You catch him, but all he does is meet your gaze with a soft smile. Fondness sparkles in the dark pools of his eyes like tiny stars. 

“All set?” He offers you his hand and you take it. 

You swing his arm as you begin walking. “You gonna buy me Sour Powers?”

“Whatever you want,” he promises, leading you towards the convenience store and whatever comes next. 

•••

Further away on the shoreline of Barren River Lake, children play in colorful swimsuits and bucket hats as they enjoy the still waters. Parents watch them wade and splash from blankets and folding chairs lined on the sand. 

Eddie stands with his back leaning against the side of the van, legs crossed and a bottle of Jolt Cola raised to his lips. There’s something about his lax stance, the intricate inkwork on his arms, the way his rings catch the sun. 

Despite the few other travelers who have pulled off the highway for a breather, his gaze remains on you. Though it’s not overtly clear through the dark lenses of his sunglasses, you have a hunch. It’s in the gradual upturn of his lips as you get closer, shorts riding slightly up your thighs.

By the time you position yourself directly in front of him, you’re able to confirm his pupils are fixed on you. Upon playfully leaning into his face, you’re met with the full brunt of his smile. It’s a little boyish and goofy, but all the more charming. 

“Hey, pretty,” he says before taking another sip. He licks away the excess that settles in the divot of his cupid’s bow. 

“Hi,” you say through a smile of your own. “How much longer do we have left?” 

“We’re about seventy-five miles out,” he thinks aloud. “So probably about an hour and a half, give or take.” 

You hum in acknowledgement, and reach out to fix a stray strand of his hair, then use that as an excuse to brush your fingertips along the stubble of his jaw in a featherlight sweep. The gentle attention makes his eyelashes flutter. 

“Stay right here,” you tell him. 

Eddie purses his lips but obeys, watching as you quickly round to the passenger side. When you come back, his Uncle Wayne’s black Polaroid camera is cradled in your grip like a prized possession. You hadn’t even asked to bring it, just plucked it off the shelf in their living room because it had already become just as much yours. 

You position yourself a couple yards away, and shuffle to the side until you’re aligned with Eddie. Even with the sincerity of your enthusiastic smile, an ember of self-consciousness flickers within him. Or maybe awareness is a better word. The awareness that the way he is in this moment, slightly tired with mussed hair from traveling, will live on forever. It’s a small price to pay for the invaluable notion of a memory. He’d never be this young on a road trip to Nashville with you again. 

“How do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks. 

“Just the way you are,” you say as you lift the viewfinder to your eye. 

His shoulders relax as he smiles. Something small and soft, just for you. 

•••

Melodic. That’s the way your laughter sounds as it arises. Eddie can feel your breath on his ear as your arms remain wrapped around his waist from behind. It does nothing to help with the way he fumbles to get the key in the motel room door. They’d already clinked to the ground once. Because you’re poking at him, and giggling, and making it impossible for him to focus. Warmth swells in his chest nonetheless because he quite likes you this way, giddy from your time on the road. He doesn’t hear his own exasperated laughter because yours drowns it out and swallows it whole. 

When he manages to get the maroon door unlocked, he pushes it open, but misses your touch as you let your arms fall from around him in a playful semblance of defeat. The faint scent of lemongrass welcomes you as you trail him into the modest room. A queen-sized bed is the centerpiece of the space, and you take in the tan, patterned comforter. The low, burgundy carpet. The popcorn ceiling. 

Eddie sets the key on the TV stand and props his hands on his hips as he peers over at you. There’s a pensive expression on your face as you push the curtains open further, letting more light in. For a second, nervousness rises in his gut. This isn’t the top of the line. Maybe if you squinted and dreamed, it could be something more. But not by any honest assessment of reality. It wasn’t supposed to be. One day he’d give you that experience. For now you have this. Cozy, familiar, and intimate. 

You smile teasingly when you meet his eyes again. “I know what we’re doing tonight,” you say, and Eddie waits for you to continue. “Mapping out our own constellations.”

A chuckle escapes him because he already knows you’re referring to the dotted nature of the ceiling. The crinkles by his eyes make you bite back a grin as you step closer to give him a proper hug. His strong arms give you a good, steady squeeze and, before long, you’ve closed your eyes and nuzzled into his shirt. There’s a faint tickle at your lower back as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt to stroke the bare skin. You could fall asleep just like this, standing in his arms, in the room that would be your home away from home for the next several days. It was perfect. All of it. This motel, the moment, him. 

Even though he insists you don’t have to, you venture back outside with him to bring your bags inside. It’s an excuse to admire the afternoon sky, not a single cloud in sight. A handful of cars are scattered within the parking lot. Across the way, there’s a fenced pool with a lone beach ball floating in the turquoise water. There’s a sleepy aliveness to it all. Each tiny sign of life mindful enough to not demand attention. The sound of car engines carries from the main throughway nearby.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Eddie calls out to you. 

Duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you join him at the back of the van. You wrinkle your nose when you see that he’s holding the camera. 

“Uh oh,” you say playfully. “Is it my turn?” 

When he nods, you do a quick scan for cars before backing up to strike a pose, one hand on your hip and the other extending towards the everlasting sky. The quick flicker of the flash seals the moment in time. 

•••

Later that night, Eddie watches you wash your face at the sink—albeit upside down. He lays stretched out on the bed with his head tipped backwards over the edge. Blood has begun to rush to his face, but he remains unfazed. Warm lamplight fills the room. The TV remains off, both of you having long given up on the lacklaster channel selection. A couple carry out bags from the diner down the road sit on the table. 

When you finish and pad back over to him, you playfully pinch his nostrils together, just long enough for him to make a muffled sound. The second you let go, he sits upright in an air of amusement and surprise. His curls are a fluffy, beautiful mess that he pushes out of his eyes. 

“I’m calling the cops,” he announces. “That was attempted murder.” 

“Premeditated, even,” you supply, unable to keep from smiling. 

Eddie swivels so that his legs hang over the bed, socked feet meeting the floor. “Here I was thinking you liked me.” 

“I’m afraid not.” You carefully step between his legs. “It’s all been an act.” You bring your hands to his head and comb through his curls, gently working through loose tangles that fall out easily. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed as he leans into your touch. You note how long his dark eyelashes are, how his lips part just so as his breathing steadies. He almost complains when you stop, but the gentle brush of your thumb across his lower lip silences him. 

Looking back up at you, there’s tenderness in your gaze alongside something a little braver and wanting. But it keeps itself tucked away, and he’s willing to let it remain in hiding if it means it’ll bloom into action when the time comes. 

“Well, I like you,” Eddie says, reaching out to snap the waistband of your satin pajama shorts. There’s an honest sparkle in his eyes, if not tinged with a hint of shyness. 

Then he keeps talking, “There’s this really cool band playing at the Lantern Room down on Lower Broadway tomorrow night. They do covers and some of their own stuff. I think you’d dig their vibe…” 

You hum in interest, so he continues. 

“And I just so happen to have two tickets,” he says, eyes softening even as a smirk pulls at his lips. “But, you know, if you don’t like me…”

“I do like you,” you murmur. “A lot. Probably an embarrassing amount.” 

You wouldn’t be surprised if, years from now, archaeologists find that fact written in stone. 

••• 

All of Lower Broadway buzzes with life. Pedestrians flutter about beneath the glow of neon lights. Music and laughter pour out of each door that opens. Back in Hawkins, places were only ever this alive on TV, in the movies, or somewhere else that seemed far, far away. The two of you let it soak. Let it settle beneath your skin and keep the pleasant flutter of excitement alive in your chests. A line of people file out of a larger venue at the end of the block. The illuminated sign out front catches your attention as it shines. 

River Gold at The Lantern Room, one night only.

Inside the Lantern Room, it’s a whole new world. The same frenetic energy of the night exists, but as a steadier, more sophisticated version of itself. Warm, overhead lights cast their glow, and short staircases on either side of the establishment lead down to the lower portion of the floor.

An older man with a long gray ponytail improvises a relaxed tune on the piano as people continue to get situated. Over at the bar, patrons sip on cocktails and whiskeys. 

Eddie leads you through it all, holding your hand so you don’t get separated in the crowd. As you take in the the dark wood of the high ceiling and the decorated walls, you almost miss him calling your name. 

“Sorry,” you say as you give him your attention. “What were you saying?” It feels like you’re raising your voice over the chatter, but you can’t tell.

Eddie chuckles, but doesn't miss a beat. “You look painfully pretty in that dress.” Warmth blooms in your cheeks, but then he says what he’d actually been trying to ask, “Where do you wanna sit?” 

You pout with a small shrug. “Close to the stage?” you say. “But maybe not too close—I don’t know. What do you think?” 

He guides the two of you down a short set of stairs to the main floor seating, where plush lounge chairs are arranged in pairs, separated by small, round tables. 

It isn’t long before River Gold takes the modest stage. Applause crescendos through the room. Eddie smiles over at you to find that your eyes are aglow as they’re fixed on the stage. 

The group is composed of four members. A tall man with a short, neatly shaped afro and flared jeans steps up to the foremost microphone. A cherry red acoustic guitar hangs over his shoulder, and he strums a low, nonchalant series of notes. 

“Thank y'all very much for the warm welcome,” he says, a smirk curling at his lips as he gazes around the room. The subtle eyeliner on his lower lashline accentuates his dark eyes.

“I’m Leon, and that’s Matty, Rocko, and Erika.” He points to the drummer, bassist, and pianist respectively, each receiving a quick swell of applause. 

“And we’re River Gold.” More claps and whistles arise. “This ain’t Beale Street but we’re gonna show y'all how we do it back in Memphis.” You smile when a particularly loud cluster of cheers arises from a group seated somewhere behind you. 

“We got a good show for y'all tonight,” he says, beginning to strum the opening notes of Stand by Me. “Don’t be shy to sing along.”

Leon lets the guitar hum under his voice before he leans into the mic to croon the opening verse, “When the night has come…” 

A cheer goes up as the rest of the band falls in behind him, smooth like honey. The thrum of the bass, the steady shuffle of the drums, the laxity of the rhythm. It already sounds like heaven. 

And it only gets better.

•••

Prince, The Rolling Stones, Tina Turner, Queen—River Gold sings covers from them all. With a couple of their own songs in the mix. Through it all, the crowd is wrapped under their spell. 

The two of you are closer to the bar now, standing behind a stretch of railing near the staircase. Eddie’s body is steady behind you as his hands rest on your hips, gently swaying to one of their soulful original songs, South of Forever. You close your eyes as the music washes over you. The drums vibrate through your chest. The gentle press of Eddie’s fingertips at your waistline anchors you to the moment. 

It isn’t long before something soft and plush tentatively meets the delicate skin behind your ear, accompanied by a puff of breath and the gentle tickle of hair. A beat later, another kiss grazes the shell of your ear. You fear that moving will make him pull away, but your shiver betrays you. Your eyes flutter open on the off chance you've slipped into a dream. 

When you peek back at Eddie, he's already looking at you. His heart beats faster in his chest. There’s a weight to his gaze, but you can bear it. A strong tug within you prompts you to turn around in his arms. 

Eddie strokes a gentle finger across your cheek before leaning, pressing his lips to yours. Warmth floods your chest at the newness of it all, the calculated softness of his lips as they move against yours. For a fraction of a second, he fears he doesn’t know what he’s doing, that he was too rash. But it’s easy with you. He can feel your fingertips steady themselves on his cheek before slipping around to scratch at the nape of his neck. 

If it’s one thing he’s ever been sure about, it’s you. And maybe that’s why he hadn’t kissed you sooner. Uncertainty had driven him to act fast for so much of his life, but never with you. He never felt the need to rush into anything out of fear it would fall apart. He knew you weren’t going anywhere. That you had time. That he’d know when the moment was right. 

Here, tonight, with you, he could feel it in his bones. That inner voice guiding a pull he couldn’t resist. 

For the few seconds the kiss lasts, it feels like you’re floating somewhere in the clouds. Far above Nashville and the rest of the world. Suspended outside of time and space. 

As Eddie slowly pulls away, Leon’s voice is there to welcome you back down to earth. 

“Just South of Forever…no lights in the rearview…recklessly ‘head with you.” 

(concert setlist visual)

-

Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I promise I see them all!

MORE EDDIE

ALL MASTERLISTS

[bbydoll18xx]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Part 3): Grinning Like I’m Winning

Paige Bueckers x reader

The aftermath of a drunken confession.

Word Count: 2k

Themes: more angst, fluff and a happy ending :))

Masterlist

Part 1 - KK tries to set you up on live, and things between you and Paige go south.

Part 2 - You go out on a date. Paige gets drunk. Chaos ensues.

A/N: helloooo thanks to everyone who has stuck with me I know it's been awhile since part 2 (i've had terrible writers block) I really hope you enjoy this! I've got a lot of exciting plans for the next few weeks as well

~

You had barely slept. With Paige’s confession ringing hauntingly in your ears, sleep had evaded you, and you were slowly losing your mind. 

Your thoughts were swirled with anxiety and a creeping giddiness that threatened to bubble up and ruin the strict boundaries you had placed on your psyche to prevent ruining your cherished friendship with Paige. Her actions hinted towards perhaps a mutual feeling, but the devastating thought that it was just the alcohol teasing you, made your heart drop to your ass. 

You and Paige had previously had several run-ins with close calls with drunken confessions and touches and glances that had felt a little less than friendly. But you had both brushed them off, thinking it was easier to internalize the confusing feelings than dealing with them head on. 

Your thoughts drift back to the way she held onto you last night, as if she was terrified of losing you, and you cannot forget the way she launched into you when you came to pick her up from the bar, whispering into your neck about how she missed and needed you. 

Was it friendly? Maybe, but the hopefulness in you made you think it was laced with something more. And you were going to ride that high until reality came to slam you back to the crushing realization that you and Paige were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Paige shifts beside you, moving closer into the warmth emitting from your body, and a quiet hum of content leaves her throat. You run a hand through her soft hair, gently scratching her scalp, pulling her out of her slumbers. She opens the eye that wasn’t smushed against her pillow, blinking a few times as her brain registers your presence. 

“Hey,” she whispers, her voice huskier than normal, and your belly flips at the sound. Her morning voice was a personal weakness of yours, and not being able to hear it the last week had affected you more than you liked to admit. 

“Mornin’, P. How’re you feeling?” You ask, eyes raking over her face, trying to avoid looking at her lips, as she slowly licked them. 

Paige groans, rubbing her eyes. “I drank way too much last night,” she mumbles. 

You agree with her, nodding your head as a chuckle threatened to escape. “You usually can hold your alcohol better than that. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, jostling you as she does so, a gentle reminder of how close she was to you. “How was your date?” she asks, effectively changing the subject.

Your heart falls again as you recall the disastrous end to your date with Scarlett, and you sigh. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear?”

Paige shoots you a questioning look, shaking her head adorably, eyes still clouded with sleep and her hangover.

You clear your throat. “She basically just wanted to go out with me to get closer to you,” you trail off, the embarrassment washing over you once more. “So I walked out on her.”

“Fuck, baby,” she breaths, a look of pity enveloping her features. “You deserve so much better than that.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble. “I think I’m just going to be on my own for a while, ya know? I’ve had so many bad dates this past year, and it’s getting discouraging.”

“You never know, though. The right girl, o-or person might be closer than you think,” she says, stuttering over her words. 

“Maybe. Just tired of people fucking me over,” you say, hoping she doesnt hear the audible crack in your voice. But it’s Paige, and because you’re you, she doesn't miss it, and her face morphs into one of sadness and regret. It haunts you, and all the aching in your chest slams back into you at an alarming force, crushing you. 

A few moments of silence pass, and after you had shoved your face back into your pillow to hide from the cruel reality of your ridiculously embarrassing dating life, Paige speaks. Her voice is quiet, an echo that subsequently shatters any last attempts to hold on to the friendly confines of your relationship.

“I’d never fuck you over.”

Peeking back up at her, your face softens at her admission. “I know, P. That’s why I love you, ya know,” you respond, and her face flushes. 

Neither of you were awake enough to scrutinize over the verbiage, but in both of your hearts, you knew it was more than a friendly kind of love. It was enough for now. But not for long, as you would both come to realize.

~

“I really thought she liked me. And i just want someone who actually gives a fuck about me, ya know? Like my standards are literally on the floor at this point, and I’m still alone,” you mumble, a pout on your lips as you recount your latest failure of a date with Scarlett to Azzi and Jana. You’re squished between them on the couch in Paige’s apartment, and the blonde could not keep her eyes off of you.

Her gaze was hot, and you could feel it follow you from the second you walked through the door with a sour expression covering your face, bitter that you could not have Paige. 

Her words were still on a constant loop in your mind, incessantly mocking you over the fact that you were still just friends, and you were too much of a coward to risk ruining things with her. So you resorted to bitching to the other girls, appreciating that your distaste for dark haired girls who fawned over Paige Bueckers was the perfect distraction.

Across the room, Paige listened to your diatribe, trying to pump herself up to just admit her feelings to you now that she was sober. The other girls were simultaneously shooting her looks of pity and encouragement, aware of her feelings. It was easy to notice how Paige had gotten absolutely wasted in your absence, and it was well known that her drunken ramblings of how pretty you were and how she fucking loved the way your hair flowed over your shoulders were not just from the effects of the alcohol. It was something more.

It would always be something more.

“Lots of people give a fuck about you,” Azzi says soothingly, patting you on the shoulder. “Someone might be closer than you think,” she adds, and you don't miss the gleam in her eye.

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave her off with a lighthearted eye roll. “That’s what Paige said.”

Paige nearly jumps at the sound of her name, and Jana covers her mouth to muffle a laugh. 

You look over at Jana. “What is so funny?”

She clears her throat, trying to play it off. “Nothing!”

You squint at her, trying to figure out her angle. The girls were acting so weird tonight. You were naturally perceptive, and you definitely weren’t an idiot; you could see the shooting looks sent between you and Paige from the other girls. And you could actually see the wheels turning in KK’s head as she exclaimed “I’m bored. Let’s play Never Have I Ever!”

Your heart begins to race as your nervous system goes into overdrive. You would not put it past KK, or any of the other girls, to try and reveal your feelings to Paige for a laugh.

The thought of unreciprocated feelings was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and hide forever, and despite Paige’s drunken admission still ringing in your ears, you had not let yourself believe that there was any truth to it. Because believing that she actually loved you was almost too much. 

KK claps her hands, gathering everyone into a large circle on the carpeted floor, pulling you from your worries. You sigh, getting up from your spot on the couch and plopping down next to Ice and Aubrey. Paige was sitting directly across from you, and for what feels like the tenth time since you had walked through the door, Paige was staring at you with those goddamn blue eyes and an expression that was hard for even you to read. 

Fuck, this was not going to be pretty.

The game started out innocent enough. Aubrey had started, asking everyone to take a drink if they had participated in underage drinking, eliciting laughs from the younger girls who were in fact currently underage. 

Next to Aubrey was Jana, who asked the group who had ghosted someone before. You once again sipped your drink, as did everyone else. The pounding in your heart lessened, hopeful that no one was planning on being too messy tonight.

The game continues for a few minutes with no issues. The drinks are quickly drained as more and more questions are asked. Soon enough, it’s KK’s turn and the sly grin on her face makes you instantly nervous again. KK was the one constantly encouraging you to admit your feelings to Paige, and you knew she would not hesitate to put it all on the line if she thought it was the right thing to do. 

She rubs her hands together mischievously. “Okay, y’all. Take a drink if you’ve ever had feelings for a friend.” 

‘Fuck me,” you think, a flush covering your face. You duck your head, trying to subtly take a drink. Across the circle, Paige drinks, too, and KK hoots loudly.

“Shut up,” Paige mumbles, flipping off the younger girl, and you nod in approval. 

It was now Ice’s turn, and she looks over at KK with a similar grin. “Take a drink if the friend you have feelings for name starts with the letter P,” she smirks.

Your head spins, and you feel all the blood drain from your face. Everyone was looking at you now, including Paige. Your hand shakes as you bring your cup to your mouth, taking a tentative sip, desperately trying to avoid the stares of all the girls, who were now stifling their laughs. 

“Fuck off,” you whine. “I don't wanna play this game anymore.” 

“Take another drink if you’re in love with Paige Bueckers,” KK says with a dramatic wink in your direction, and you give her a death stare.

You ultimately had two choices: deny the fuck out of it or grow a pair and admit your feelings. And in an insane display of bravery, you take one more drink, eyes boring into hers.

The room erupts into cheers and gasps of shock, and you hear multiple mumbles of “finally” as you do so. 

“Get your cute butt over her,” Paige says, patting her thigh with a fond look, and you stand up without even thinking, nearly rushing over to finally be close to her. The great war between your head and your heart was over, and she was yours. There was absolutely no denying that.

She pulls you into her lap, and you lean into her touch, just as you wanted to when she was drunk off her ass. “I told you last night that I loved you,” she said teasingly, and the girls erupt in loud gasps again.

“WHAT?” they yell, causing you to wince at the volume. 

“I thought you were just drunk,” you say shrugging, a small smile on your lips. “How was I supposed to know you actually meant it?” 

“I straddled you, baby,” she stresses, grinning, running her hands across your hips.

“Well, you know now,” you respond.

And she did. And soon the whole world would, too, because there was just no hiding those heart eyes with Paige. All thoughts of your shitty love life evaporated in that moment. Gross frat boys and gold-digging dark haired girls were quickly erased from your memory, and they were replaced with the pretty blue eyes of your best friend who loved you.

You could do it with a broken heart, but now your once cold and desolate heart was full. And that was all because of Paige.

~

@patscorner @lovesickramblingsofmine @jaeyoonstie @obi35

that was fun! thank you so much for reading!! let me know what you think :)

xoxo katy

[sylkiddsey]

Word: Jealous

Takes place after 11x22 before the writers had Sylvie relocate to Portland

The second she keys into their place; he points to the baby monitor in his hand. “I just got her down.”

She grins at the grainy screen. “Gosh, I’ve missed her so much. Maybe I can just go in there and give her a quick kiss?”

She can’t wake her. If she does, Julia will never fall asleep again. She’s halfway to the stairs when he rushes up behind, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her back.

“Baby, you can’t go in there. You’re going to wake her and then she’ll scream her head off. Just let her sleep.”

Her posture deflates, head resting against his chest. “Right. I know, you’re right.” She spins, grabbing his face and greets him with a kiss.

It’s not quick or habitual. It’s needy and desperate. He worries she might’ve had a bad shift since she needs him this much.

“Someone missed me,” he teases, squeezing her sides. It’s a sure-fire way to make her giggle and he thinks she might need a laugh.

Her hands skim through his hair. “You have no idea.”

Something is wrong. Sylvie’s always peppy and happy. She rarely reacts so calmly and subdued.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

She bites her lip and then smoothes the wrinkles on his t-shirt. “I guess maybe it’s best we have to keep our voices down for what I’m about to tell you.”

That’s not worrying at all. His mind immediately goes to the worst-case scenario. Something bad happened on shift and she had some sort of traumatic near-death experience.

She looks physically fine, but he’s still worried.

“What does that mean?”

Sylvie reaches for his hands and drags him towards their partially unfinished kitchen. He still has to stain the cabinets and install the rest of the backsplash.

“I need coffee first,” she admits, releasing his hands to start herself a pot.

He knows this conversation isn’t about them. There’s no chance she’s leaving or deciding not to marry him, but this tiny, scarred part of him is convinced she is. He’s had too many terrible kitchen conversations.

She slides a mug with lemons on it under the machine and then faces him. “Antonio showed up at 51 today.”

Antonio? He doesn’t recall her mentioning anything about a patient with that name. She’s looking at him like she expects him to know who she’s talking about, but he’s lost. He’s a pretty good listener, but also sleep deprived so it’s possible he missed it.

He doesn’t even know anyone by that name. Well, other than…

No. There’s no way it’s him. He’s jumping to conclusions, but the look on his fiancés face is making him think his worst nightmare actually has come true.

“Antonio as in Antonio Dawson? As in your ex-boyfriend?”

She nods. “Yes.”

What the fuck?

He’s gotten his jealousy under control. Ever since she and Dylan split, he’s been completely secure in their engagement. She loves him so much and he knows that, but of all the exes to reappear…this is the worst one.

He does his best to sound casual. “Really? What…uh, was he doing there?”

“He wanted to see me so we could catch up for lunch,” she explains. “He said it’s been awhile and wanted to touch base.”

It’s been five fucking years. It’s been half a damn decade, and he wants to specifically see her?

He kneads the back of his neck. “Wow…and he only wanted to catch up with you? I mean, he came there to see you?”

He has no idea if his former brother-in-law even knows about his relationship with Sylvie.

“It seems that way. I said I’d meet him tomorrow.”

“Does he know that we’re getting married?”

He’d hope she’d establish that right away instead of agreeing to lunch. He knows she sees it as nothing more as friendly, but he also knows Antonio Dawson. He doubts he’s interested in just a friendship.

“I don’t think so. I mean, I wasn’t wearing my ring and he showed up so fast that I didn’t get the chance to say anything.” She inches closer, hands gliding up his rigid shoulders. “I wasn’t thinking when I agreed. I should’ve asked you first, but I didn’t think you’d have an issue with it.”

“An issue with what? You catching up with your ex? The same ex who couldn’t quit you for very long?”

He’s being unfair. He knows that. He trusts her completely and she can’t control the fact he showed up. He has no right to worry when he was the married one. He can’t guilt her into not going. She’s her own person.

But he’s still reeling with jealousy.

“Are you jealous?” She teases, looking far too amused for his liking.

He’s not finding this very funny.

“Me? Jealous? No,” he protests. “I’m not jealous, Sylvie.”

Okay, he absolutely is, but there’s no reason to feel that way. He blames it on the fact they’ve been so perfect and of course the universe is gonna disrupt that with Antonio Dawson of all people.

She kisses him. “Baby, you have no reason to be jealous. I’m marrying you. I mean, you know nothing is going to happen…right?”

Yes. He absolutely knows that.

He snakes his arms around her waist. “Of course I know that. It’s just…”

She’s the most patient and understanding person he knows. She doesn’t chastise him for his feelings or claim he doesn’t trust her based off his reaction. She simply listens.

He’s so in love with her.

“It’s just?” She prompts.

“It’s Antonio. I mean, I saw firsthand how much you liked him. He wasn’t just a fling to you. You probably loved him, and I guess…” He untucks her hair from the collar of her sweater. “I always worried maybe he was the love of your life…and now, he’s back.”

He’s a hypocrite. He hears the hypocrisy the second he’s done with his confession, but she doesn’t rub that in his face.

She traces her finger down his cheek bone. “Matt, he’s not the love of my life. Not even close. Yeah, maybe there might have been a time I believed that, but it’s not true. I have never ever loved anyone the way I love you.” She pecks the corner of his mouth lovingly. “I completely understand feeling intimidated by history, but what I had with him doesn’t even compare to what I feel for you.”

He was married and he knows it took her awhile to see past and allow him to love her. They’ve worked through that completely and he needs to try and do the same thing with this.

“Listen, if you feel uncomfortable at all…I won’t go. I can cancel.”

He can’t be that guy.

“No, no. No. You should go. You deserve to catch up,” he explains, brushing his fingers through her hair. “You’re right. Our past is irrelevant. It’s not an issue for me.”

“Are you sure?” She asks.

Instead of reaffirming her with words, he kisses her long and slow. He needs her to know he trusts her completely.

“Yes, I’m sure. And for the record, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone too.”

It’s true. He loved both Gabby and Hallie a lot, but his love for Sylvie is endless. He can’t move on from her and while his other two relationships were temporary, his feelings for Sylvie Brett never have been.

She brushes her nose against his. “Good. Because I can’t wait to marry you.”

He can’t either and Antonio can’t get in the way of that. He’ll just have to find a way to forget about their lunch and the idea of her ex so close to her.

He can do that for his fiancé and family.

[elslovers]

the one - E. Williams

a/n hello my loves apologies for falling off I have just been in a writing slump but I decided the perfect way to pull myself out was with a series I had been wanting to write for awhile of on shots inspired by Taylor swift songs - as ur certified switftie tlou writer it is my duty this is angsty but no better way to start off than some Ellie folklore angst I hope you enjoy

" and if my wishes came true it would've been you"

Your hand clutches the stem of your wine glass, makeup-caked eyes, and a weaker spirit than you possessed less than twenty-four hours ago. Chaos is so intense it's almost peaceful, like when something moves so fast the human eye can't see it. That's how losing Ellie has you feeling, spinning so fast you almost think you are standing still pacing, and you know your pacing, but your mind is somewhere else. You only stop when you catch a glimpse of yourself in your vanity mirror.

" I guess the greatest loves of all time all time are over now"

Your body sinks into the memory of your meeting you'd always been a romantic dreaming up the great love affairs you would have with the cute barista because she said she liked your bangs or the pretty girl who lived down the hall from you freshmen year it wasn't uncommon for you to fall fast and hard which is what made Ellie so Wonderfully different you weren't free falling into fantasy you were content in reality with her from the moment you met you were her waitress and she and her friends who would soon become chosen family had been hogging a table all night at the shitty little diner you worked at ordering nothing but hot cocoa and fries for the table you usually would mind but from the moment you saw her you started saying a prayer that shed be there till close she would smile at you every time you brought fresh cocoa for the table finding a new aspect of you to compliment shyly each time, you saw the eyes her friends made giving her a look of stop fuckin around and make a move and when she saw you dip into the bathroom she made her move.

you remembered it all feverishly a little hazy in some parts but some moments so sharp with hurt you were washing your hands when you saw her walk in from the mirror a smile turning up on your lips - was she here for you? You recall thinking these moments were fuzzy, her mind racing too much to remember the small talk you made, but when her lips crashed onto you with hunger, you made sure to remember everything the way her calloused hands held your cheeks, the way she didn't hesitate the way she backed you against the wall and after what felt like only a second pulled back and gave you a smile that seemed to say she already knew she had you and then kissed you again just as starved as the first Ellie has a talent for kissing you every damn time as she might never kiss you again

from that moment on it was just you and Ellie

until it wasn't

"and if you wanted me you really should've showed"

The problem with loving someone like Ellie is the love being loved more than their lover, or at least that is what you had gathered after six months of loving and losing at the same time she has a wandering eye, always had, always will, but she was yours. That's what you assured yourself of when she started hiding her phone more. She was yours. It's what you told yourself when she stopped asking you to accompany her to the house parties she sold at. She was yours, but Ellie belonged to everyone and no one all at once. She was never really anyone. Her friends would say how impressed they were. She'd made it so long that she was never good at monogamy, and you would always say she was good with you.

because god was she good with you

good until she wasn't until she was good with the girl she promised was just a client turned smoke buddy you prided yourself on being cool unattached the type of girlfriend Ellie wanted the kind who didn't panic (or at least didnt let her see) you kept yourself so cool the girl she told you not to worry about found her way into the bed you shared found her way inside the girl you thought would make you never be shared again

good until it wasn't

The screaming her begging you not to leave you, throwing her shit into the hallway of your apartment, demanding she get the fuck out. The girl who Ellie could still taste on her lips, running for the hills as fast as she could, was all still fresh in your mind, an open wound bleeding out memories you try and drink away. 'How could you be meant to sound solid and angry like a proper woman scorned would sound? You try to sound like the hell these women are supposed to give, but it comes out weak and broken, followed by a sob and trembling lip as you try to preserve whatever dignity you have left - how could you be so blind? "Baby- she's nothing. I swear she's nothing." ellies pleading, but it is disregarded because, at that moment, you feel like the one who's nothing "Honestly, Ellie, if that's how you treat girls who mean nothing, then what the fuck am I- six months, and then you meet some girl and take her home." you sun onto the bed sobbing for her to leave until she shut the door of your once-shared home for the last time

"but if you never bleed your never gonna grow"

you spend the next three weeks bleeding day drunk in your bed cycling the five stages of grief one after another day in day out it hurt in a way you'd never felt pain before the betrayal the worst of it all it hurt more then losing her

but you let yourself feel it all because somewhere a part of you knows if you don't feel it now you'll be feeling it for the rest of your life

" I'm doing good i'm on some new shit"

Two months feel like a lifetime, like you've been walking around watching your whole life on a film screen with a projector that never entirely comes into focus - but after two months of grief, you want to bloom again. You want to be the version of yourself you were before Ellie broke your heart and took your light with you. The pains are still there, but it coexists alongside a fury to not let her win

so step one is to do your hair how you used to big rollers, pulling them out into perfect curls. Step two is to do your makeup in a way that makes you glow light and airy as the sun gave you her blessing to outshine her, and three, go to a party knowing there is a 50/50 chance she'll be in attendance and not caring either way

the music is loud in your chest, the bass a welcome replacement to the pounding go your heart. You always made it a rule never to go out alone, but getting over Ellie seems to require breaking some rules 

you take one shot after another, stopping when you reach the happy place of drunkenness of not being too sure you are standing on solid ground 

you dance alone, and you dance against people. You dance with people until you've settled your eyes on a girl who could make you forget who made you like this in the first place

she's pulling someone by the sleeve of their flannel, and after a moment, Ellies figure steps Into the red and blue led lights of the dance floor

god, Williams, you always did have good taste

the familiar feeling of emotions flowing out of you serves as a reminder that no amount of bleeding will heal this wound

not yet, at least

your frozen mind is willing your body to move before she has the privilege of seeing you of being in the same space as you, a privilege you swore to both her and yourself she would never have again - but you rooted to the floor, and in an instant, her eyes are on you filling with an emotion you can't place

before you know it, her strides are strong coating across the dance floor, leaving the girl who two minutes ago you were plotting to take home in the dust

she's by your side in an instant, and you want to run - you need to run, but you can't bring yourself to feel the spark you just got back draining faster than you can stop 

"Angel," her voice is loud but gentle over the music, and her words make your stomach churn Ellie and alcohol have always been a sour mix

"you don't get to call me that anymore" There's no gentleness in your words, no harshness, neither its matter of fact, which somehow hurts Ellie more than if you were to scream at her

"I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, but it's months, and your all that's on my mind. I see it; okay, you're the one. I got caught up, and I lost sight of that," her voice is begging, a sound you used to adore but now just makes you want to vomit

you were the one

but she wasn't

"your right- I was. I was the one, Ellie, and we- use, this fuckin love was something, and if I got everything I wanted, it would've been you. It would've been sweet if you could've seen it was me all along, but you couldn't, and now I'm the one that got away, not the one you get to have"

whatever force that had been holding you there let go allowing you to walk out of that party prepared to finish the bleeding and move on to the growing.

[adonis-koo]

When I started binge reading Wicked many, many months ago, I sent in very long detailed asks almost every single day for each chapter as I was reading it. And I don't recall any of them getting answered. Maybe one or two. When I review a story or a chapter, sometimes it takes me like 45 minutes to put all my thoughts into an ask. I spend a lot of time on it. Eventually I started to realize I was wasting all that time sending in asks when they weren't being responded to. I was looking for the interaction with you. I wanted to have conversations about the story. It was very disappointing to me, and I felt like my thoughts and feelings on each chapter weren't wanted. So I stopped after awhile and just binge read the rest of it to bring me current with your last update. I think it stopped on Chapter 12 or 13. I left likes as I always do. I'm pretty sure I reblogged it at some point. So now I'm kind of confused that you're asking for readers to send in asks but mine never got responded to for some reason. I know tumblr eats asks, but it couldn't have eaten every single one of mine. Like I said, I was sending in asks just about every single day. I hope this ask doesn't come off as harsh, but I wanted to let you know how frustrated I was when I first started reading and it didn't seem like you had any interest in interacting with me. I very much enjoy talking with writers about their stories.

While it may have left a bad taste in my mouth, I still continue to read Wicked, and I have loved every single second of it. It's one of my favorite stories on tumblr. I am more than happy to go back to reviewing all your chapters. But it would be nice to see my asks responded to. Just like you as a writer crave interaction with your readers, I as a reader crave interaction with the writers of the stories I'm reading. There is nothing better to me than having a conversation about a story I love. So if you're interested in interacting with me on future chapters, let me know, and I will happily go back to reviewing.

First of all, I would like to truly apologize for not replying to your asks, I did dig a little and I was only able to find one ask that is an absolute shame to not respond too, as I had an entire reply in my head and was very excited to answer, but I can only assume I got caught up with something else that demanded my attention (outside of this blog), I do remember answering your asks before and can only assume some may have been eaten.

Here’s the thing; my blog vastly swings between an overwhelming number of people interacting to absolutely no interaction at all, I have very few people (and I heavily appreciate those who I do have) who consistently send in asks whom go by an alias or an actual blog that I can identify as regular. It’s just being jarring to watch, because then it makes me wonder if my chapter wasn’t well received, or the quality declined, or anything and everything that could make one chapter blow up and the very next a week later, completely bomb.

I have become very conscious of asks slipping through the cracks, and I’ve tried the last three or so chapters to make a conscious effort to answer everything single one before I post another chapter, to try and make sure nobody is feeling left out or slipping through the cracks.

I would also like to mention that me vocalizing this issue entirely excludes people who have reblogged my work, even if someone has only ever sent in one ask for an entire series is completely acceptable for me, just something. And even if I never do respond to asks just know that I never delete them because I’m a sentimental person and I still become nostalgic and go back and re-read them like it’s my first time receiving them.

I will always appreciate and feel the love of someone when they send me their words about how I personally impacted them with my writing and I will always cherish it, even if I end up forgetting to reply, or it somehow got stuck in my draft because I never fully finished my thought, or if it was buried and unable to be answered before the next chapter was posted. I cherish, every, single, one.

I am truly sorry that you felt frustrated and had a bitter taste in your mouth for me as a writer, it truly wasn’t my intention. That being said, I don’t really feel like I’m entitled to ask you to start reviewing my work again when my lack of consistency was the reason you stopped.

And when I think about it, I guess I don’t really have the entitlement to ask anyone to interact with me, after all, this is a hobby I do for free, I have to continually remind myself that this is something I chose to do because I want too, not because I have too.

I truly do thank you for the support you’ve sent to me and I really am sorry that I disappointed you as a reader, I hope you continue to enjoy Wicked and I appreciate that you spoke about your experience to me ❤️

[spookyboywhump]

How would you recommend someone who's been here awhile as a whump blogger get more... engagement? I will post ask games and get virtually no ask or such. :( when I first started I had crazy engagement but now it's just gone. Makes me feel a little bad like I did something wrong? Aaa I'm sorry xx

Ahahaa anon this is an interesting ask to get at an interesting time. I’m going to do my best to help and give advice with what I’ve been wanting to try out as this is something that I have been thinking about a lot lately as well. I’m going to put this below a cut as I often feel. Weird talking about things regarding engagement and I understand some people don’t like those conversations but y know it is what it is

Let me start off with, I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong friend! I have noticed engagement has gone down a lot lately, not just in myself but in blogs that I follow that were VERY active and got lots of engagement back when they first started posting, and while they’re still very active and absolutely fantastic and talented writers, they still aren’t getting the attention they used to. I want to add a quick disclaimer that I understand engagement and attention is not everything, that we are supposed to create for ourselves, we are not simply content machines here to please an audience but also. When you go from having constant engagement with your work to what feels like none, it does feel a little discouraging, if not a lot discouraging and leave you wondering what changed. I think that’s normal. While we should create with ourselves in mind, it’s also just human nature to want to connect and interact with others who also enjoy our creations!

Onto the next thing, I have a few theories as to why engagement in general may have gone down. Obviously, I don’t know who you are or what your specific situation is so these may not apply! But they are things I think about when I think about this

Personally, I joined as a whump blog in 2019 and gained a bit of a following RIGHT before Covid lockdowns. Around this time a lot of people were home, a lot of people had way more time to write, to read, to interact with each other, I recall this time as being very active for everybody, between the Whump community online and whump discord servers, nobody had anywhere to go or anything else to do so we were all online indulging in what may have been a new hobby and new and exciting space for some people.

Following that, Covid lockdowns ended. People went back to work, back to school, and suddenly a lot of us just. Can’t be as active as we used to. This community seems to be full of neurodivergent people, I imagine a lot of us are struggling to balance school/work, household responsibilities, and our hobbies and things like writing or keeping up with our favorite series may fall to the side unfortunately. People graduated high school, started college, started jobs, these will take up a lot of time so I’m not really surprised to see a decrease in general activity.

So just like those things mean a lot less people are likely to be active as much as they used to, it may also mean you aren’t as active as you used to be. Again, I don’t know your situation personally, but I went back to work in February of 2021 and since then I have written. Less and less. It’s actually kind of depressing when I see time stamps on things and realize how little I wrote at all in 2022 because work was such a drain on me and even now, I struggle to have the time, energy, and inspiration all at the same time to write when I have other things that need to be done as well. My own engagement has gone down significantly since when I first started, so I understand exactly what your talking about, I post about my oc’s constantly but I struggle to really write and it’s very rare to get asks about them the way that I used to (that’s not to say it never happens and I love seeing the ones I do get in my inbox but I have noticed a change that I don’t think is exactly significant to just myself)

(Split this up cuz it was too long for one lmao) I mostly assume it’s due to less people being active as per the reasons mentioned above, there are names I used to see often that have since disappeared and I think about often, but also I know it’s partly on me because I just. Don’t write as much as I used to. People engaged when I had writing for them to engage with. I don’t have that very often any more so they don’t have anything to work with. That’s understandable. I often find myself getting in a mood where I’ve convinced myself everyone has lost interest and if I’m being completely honest that poll I posted was to see if something I was wondering about was correct because I have always noticed a slight uptick in asks or requests regarding one OC but unfortunately I still write primarily for myself and that one OC just. Isn’t the one I want to focus on all the time and I worried I was failing a lot of people by focusing on what I liked.

Anyways that’s all to say. I understand what you mean and this has also been on my mind a lot lately. But I’ve also been thinking about what to do about it.

For one thing, for the same reasons I don’t write as much as I used to, I also don’t read as much as I used to, I miss connecting with other people over THEIR work as well. That doesn’t always mean they’ll be into my stuff, they don’t have to be! I love that they’re creating at all and I want to enjoy it and engage with them over their creations as well! Of course I understand we shouldn’t be interacting just in the hopes it’ll draw attention to ourselves, but it’s also the natural outcome of things. If we aren’t able to reach out to others, they likely won’t reach out to us or look into what we’re doing. There’s quite a few of us, it’s easy to miss some really awesome blogs and really awesome work just because we end up in our own little circles.

Posting your writing or art or whatever it may be regularly, especially being sure to put it in the Whump community tags allows for more people to keep up with it or new people to find and support you and potentially garner new interest if you feel like people have lost interest in what you make. Personally, my goal with doing whumptober is to start writing and posting somewhat regularly again, in a way that more and new people may see it. This is also something I need to fix up but having a good master list is great for people who are new and want to catch up!

And not to sound like hopelessly optimistic but like. Don’t give up. And focus on creating with yourself in mind. You didn’t do something wrong, things have just changed, I forgot to mention this above as it just came to me but I remembered tumblr started doing that thing where you need an account to send anon asks which will have axed a lot of people who were lurking without an account and didn’t want to make one. I know it feels disheartening and discouraging because we want people to enjoy our work but the only way to get that is to keep working. Your work still has value even if people aren’t engaging the way they used to and I’m sure that it’s great! The people who love it the same as you do will find it I’m sure, and I’m wishing you the best of luck!

[blueikeproductions]

It’s worth mentioning the Genesis with Miko, Raf and Jack actually started with Spike Witwicky.

The original plan for Prime, via production Bible and notes was it was going to be a far more toyetic version of the Bay films, with Spike brought back as the main human character: a teenage, computer savvy conspiracy theorist trying to find out the truth and figure himself out.

This concept saw him split into three characters representing each trait he was to have, resulting in Miko, Raf and Jack.

Cliffjumper’s death is ultimately pointless in the scheme of things. It started a new running gag of Cliffjumper being brutally murdered or just made into a punching bag for awhile, he was supposed to represent how no one is safe and could die instantly, only for the Autobots to have insane plot armor against the Insecticon Troopers, foes that Megatron could barely take down one on one, and Bulkhead surviving being exposed to hazardous materials that should have killed him.

Knock Out being gay is fine, but I do agree it is somewhat stereotyped. Perhaps the thing that sticks out to me about him is fans picking up that he’s gay and asking the writers about it at a con, only for them to give a kinda messed up answer (albeit unintentionally I imagine) that the Allspark “glitched” when it made Knock Out…

His defection does come some what out of left field by being handled more as a gag, but to be fair, they did seem to be building up to the idea he was starting to become annoyed by the Decepticons and was more pleasantly surprised at Ratchet treating him well. Also the show wasn’t subtle that the only reason Knock Out WAS a Decepticon was merely because they were the winning team at the time, so clearly it was more out of self preservation. He even admits initially becoming an Autobot was for a similar reason.

Knock Out should have a boyfriend but I do agree also Breakdown wasn’t it. It’s pretty clear the actual concept was the brainy big talker and the hulking muscle head buddy, not an actual gay couple. When Breakdown died is only when the show started to lightly imply they might’ve been dating to feed the shippers. Not helped is I think more might actually ship Knock Out with Starscream due to their more regular interactions and Steve Blum commented on it in character cementing the idea. IDW making Knock Out and Breakdown into a couple I recall was met with surprising backlash, tho some of it might’ve been homophobic, but most of it was annoyance at robo-romance since some fans hate that, as far back as Black Arachnia and Silverbolt. On that note, Knock Out might’ve worked better having a romantic interest on the Autobot side, (no it shouldn’t have been Bumblebee, but a character better suited to jive Knock Out’s personality ala BA & Silverbolt), but I doubt the writers would’ve been allowed to have an openly gay romance that didn’t result in someone’s immediate death in an action kids cartoon even then…

Going by Knock Out’s own flirting with Optimus and fans pairing him with Breakdown, clearly Knock Out likes big guys (no he shouldn’t be with Bulkhead), specifically more muscular guys, so maybe an Autobot in that vein, be it a new guy or a reinterpretation of an older character like a muscular version of … I dunno Windcharger or Trailbreaker. Brawn could maybe work here too, but eh.

Either way, it was pretty clear the writers wanted a Decepticon to defect, and while it became Knock Out, they clearly wanted Breakdown in that role, until his voice actor became too expensive and they murk’d ‘em, so they tried putting Dreadwing in that role, but he too died for his troubles. I think the turn coat angle worked better for Dreadwing anyway since he was personally wronged by Megatron anyway… an angle that they also copied with Predaking now that I think of it… The writers had one bit but they committed by god, still they made the point Dreadwing didn’t want to become an Autobot anyway while Predaking (technically) and Knock Out did.

I can’t speak for mute representation since I am not mute, though a kid in school thought I was since I rarely spoke back then and he was legitimately shocked I could speak, but anyway yeah Bee being mute didn’t really work, and largely seems to be abandoned now outside of Bay adjacent things. Blastwave using sign language was much better, and incidentally his episode is one of my favs of RiD15. I don’t know if the gestures Blastwave made were legit hand signals or if it was “gibberish” but I wonder if people would’ve complained if Bumblebee would’ve used sign language in Prime because the animators didn’t do it right and/or just made it look like random gestures. Either way it probably would’ve been deemed too expensive to animate hand gestures to communicate, and then they’d have to presumably assign an interpreter, be it Bulkhead, a reinterpretation of Raf or an entirely new guy who’s role is JUST to be Bee’s interpreter…Maybe a Mini-Con could’ve been in that role.

I have always been curious how Cosmos and Sea Spray would’ve worked had they made it in, as Sea Spray of all guys being this hard ass Decepticon Reaper is so bizarre considering this is the guy in G1 that speaks via gargling and has a alien human girlfriend. Plus Jasper has little in the way of proper water ways so they’d have to come up with a lot of excuses to put the battles on the ocean or large rivers to give Sea Spray something to do, beyond cheating and just making him an amphibious car. It’s why I don’t have the best feelings about TFP Wheeljack, as they basically just gave him Drift’s schtick and turned another geek into a hardass. That they haven’t returned to the edgy Swordbot warrior bit for Jackie seems rather telling. Maybe it wouldn’t have been as controversial if they just called him Downshift.

Gonna just call myself Boltax Anon from now on so that i can better id/itterate upon my confessions over time

Anyhowsy

I made a prior Confession where i mentioned my distaste for tfp, so i wanna elaborate jusssst a bit.

1. Miko is a Verity clone, with Raf and Jack as Hunter and Jimmy respectively

Miko is a kid with rebellion and family issues who ends up being partnered with the wreckers and later gets power armor... aka just verity again

Raf is paired with the yellow autobot and nearly dies inside of him, also a whole like- intelligence subtone to the character

Jack is paired with the blue autobot [look up legacy of rust] and has a thing with mechanical rust

2. Cliffjumper's death was just bad writing

He died in under 5 minutes and was the only autobot death for the rest of the show outside of tailgate "who was just cliffjumper again" and arguably Seaspray who was gonna be revealed to have lived.

3. Knockout's defection was poorly done and he was written as a gay stereotype character [while this isn't inherently bad, it is when he's touted as the peak of representation]

(Also tfp fans need to recognize the fact that him and breakdown didn't really have all that much chemistry, especially compared to Bluestreak and Prowl in CoP or Ransack and Crumplezone in Cybertron [they did the gimmick of big guy little guy first])

4. Optimus was incredibly bland and was at his most interesting when he was orion, due to actually being written with some charisma

5. Wheeljack would be infinitely improved if he started as a decepticon.

I could go on but i wanna see how this lands, especially given i was pretty bare bones on my issues.

[Also bumblebee was really bad mute character representation, RID15 Blastwave was much better]

*

[arctrooper69]

hiii! i just found your hurt/comfort dialog prompt list you had tagged and i'm such a sucker for that kind of stuff. could you please do prompt 34. "you're covered in blood, need to tell me something?" with wolffe? maybe even a little bit of prompts 20 and 35 from the the hurt/comfort sprinkled in there too? i absolutely adore your work and your such a fantastic writer, i look forward to everytime you post, and you do such a beautiful job on your writing that i can't wait to read this once it is done (if you decided to do it) . feel free to change it how you want, and thank you for taking time out of busy day to read this. love you <333

Hey! I'm so glad you've been enjoying my work! Sorry it took me awhile to get this out to you. I had so many ideas for it but I couldn't decide what I wanted to do. Hope you enjoy it! 😁

Prompt# 20: "How long did you think that you could hide that?"

Prompt# 34: "You're covered in blood, need to tell me anything?"

Prompt# 35: "It's just a headache, I'm fine."

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Love is a Battlefield

The new General doesn't want to ask for help. Commander Wolffe does so anyway.

Warnings: Blood. Angst. Battlefield scenes. Hurt/Comfort.

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

"Okay, today officially sucks." You grumbled under your breath, cursing whatever cosmic Force led you to be in your current state. Groaning you dragged yourself back over the ledge and collapsed in the mud. Everything hurt. Your clothes were stiff with dried and drying blood and at this point, you weren't sure if it belonged to you or to those damn splox who's nest you'd fallen into. Probably both.

Ok, now to find the rest of the company. You were sure that you hadn't strayed too far from the battlefield when you'd been drug off by battle droids and thrown from a cliff in the resulting fight. But hey, at least you took them down with you. You thought, cracking a smile. Master Plo would've been proud. On the other hand, you frowned, you had gotten separated from everyone else - so maybe not so much.

You drew a sharp breath between your teeth. A burning, grating feeling radiated from your side as you stepped over a rock and nearly fell to the ground. You paused for a moment to let your tunneling vision focus again, fighting back the urge to throw up. Maybe some of the blood was actually yours. The trek back to camp was going to take much longer than you expected.

Good. Maybe that would give you time to mull over the conversation you'd had yesterday morning with the commander of you battalion.

You were sure it was the reason that Commander Wolffe was ignoring you earlier today.

***

You'd chosen to continue on with the battalion after Master Plo had received an urgent message from the Council, recalling him from the field. Wolffe disagreed.

"You're injured!" He snapped, more forcefully than intended.

You sighed rolling your eyes. "It's just a headache. I'm fine. You know I've had worse, Commander." It was more than a headache, probably a concussion due to the nausea and dizziness that currently plagued you. But he didn't need to know that.

Wolffe pinched the bridge of his nose.

"General, I saw that spider droid fling you halfway across the battlefield. Can you at least go to medical to get checked out? I need you-" He froze, then coughed quickly, trying to pass off his slip-up as though he'd been interrupted mid sentence. "We. We need you. Your men need you at your best, general."

He coughed again and quickly left the room, leaving you frozen in place.

***

Did he really say that? You replayed his words in your head over and over again.

"I need you."

You couldn't deny that it had shaken you. You couldn't deny that it had hit you in such a way that made your whole body tingle and flood with warmth. As much as you tried to suppress it and convince yourself it was nothing, you had found yourself staring at the Commander a lot recently. The way he confidently carried himself, the subtle spark in his eye, the way he cared for his men even though he hid it behind that abrasive and sarcastic front - it was all so perfect. So attractive. So him.

No, he couldn't have meant it like that. You were his superior and even more importantly, you were a Jedi. No attachment allowed. He definitely couldn't have meant it like that. It was simply a slip of the tongue. He felt nothing for you and you felt nothing for him. You told yourself that your infatuation wasn't real. Commander Wolffe was a good solider and your fondness for him was simply a professional sense of pride. That's all.

Distant voices interrupted your brooding. Several clone troopers were searching high and low, calling out for someone but you didn't quite catch the name.

"Who are we looking for?" You walked up to the trooper closest to you. His shiny white armor was streaked with mud and ash - one of the new guys. Splash, they'd christened him on account of the puddle of mud he'd landed in immediately after jumping from the gunship into the field. It was hard to believe you'd only been here for three days. It felt like three years.

"We're looking for the General!" He explained hurriedly, hardly giving you a side glance.

Your heart dropped. Surely not Master Plo. Had he not left for Coruscant after all? Your hero and former master had seemed invincible ever since he'd chosen you to be his Padawan.

"General Plo Koon?" You asked hesitantly.

Splashed grunted as he stepped over a log. "No, the other one."

A wave of relief washed over you. You could've laughed out loud if your head wasn't so cloudy. Your side screamed with every step. You took a shallow breath, trying to ground yourself.

I am one with the force and the force is with me. I am one with the force and the force is with me.

Supplementing with the force wouldnt last long and it was draining, but it was better than the agony you'd been in. You took a deep breath, allowing the pain to become a whisper and looked back up at the clone.

"Well you found her!" You joked.

"What?" He stood up looking confused. Then he looked over at you.

Splash straightened up upon realizing that he had indeed found the General. He was glad he was wearing his bucket because he could feel his face turning red with embarrassment. He scrambled stiffly to attention. "Uhm, sorry Sir. I mean Ma'am. Uh, General." He stuttered, trying to compose himself. You chuckled, wincing as the movement pulled at your wounded side. Splash looked alarmed as if he'd just realized that his General was covered in blood. "Are you injured, Ma'am?"

You grit your teeth to hide the pain. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I believe it all belongs to the splox that I killed. Fell into a nest of em."

He looked at you, unsure if you were being serious or not, trying to recall if the regulation manuals told him what to do in a situation like this.

"We should probably make our way to medical, all the same." He concluded. "Just to be safe. Get you checked out and all." He offered his arm.

You shook your head. "No that's alright. They're much too busy right now, seeing as the battle has just ended."

"Well I'm sure..."

You put a hand up to stop him. "It's fine, Splash. I can take care of myself. Let's worry about making our way back to camp."

"Of course, General."

***

You made your way back to camp and bid Splash a farewell. Exhausted, you yawned and slowly made your way back to your tent, passing the Commander's tent on your way there.

"General!" Commander Wolffe sprang to his feet the moment he saw you. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

His eyebrows knit tightly together with a frown. If you didn't know better, you almost thought he looked concerned. Worried even. But that would be stupid. You were reading too much into it. He was simply a solider looking out for the welfare of his commanding officer. That's it. Nothing more.

"I'm good!" You grinned, hoping he didn't notice the way your teeth ground against the pain in your head and now your side.

Wolffe's face became unreadable.

"Just good!?" He growled. "General, you are covered in blood. 'Good' does not even begin to cover it. Do you need to tell me something?"

Yes. I think I'm in love with you.

"No not really." You nonchantly shrugged. "It's not mine. Fell into a nest of those giant splox beetles and had to take em out before they ate me. You know how it is."

Wolffe rolled his eyes. He didn't believe you, but what could he do? He wasn't your superior, he couldn't order you to tell him. He made a note to ask Cody and Rex to let him into the clones-with-stubborn-generals club. He could sure use some advice.

"Could you be anymore bull-headed?" he wanted to yell at you as you left the room, interpreting his silence as the end of that conversation.

Wolffe groaned in frustration. Why did he care so much? Why did the thought of you being wounded send waves of terror cascading through his core. You were acting strange, subtly walking as though every step sent agony shooting through your body thinking nobody would notice. He noticed. He wanted to pick you up in his arms and bandage your wounds. He wanted to softly kiss each scar on your skin.

You were a good leader. He understood wanting to be tough, wanting to be strong for the soldiers under your command. If he was honest with himself, he did the same.

You trudged wearily back to your tent, ignoring the pain that was slowly returning to full force with a vengeance as though it was angry at being willed into submission.

You made it a point to avoid medical. The dwindling amount of medical supplies worried you. It was only a matter of time before they would run out if they weren't sent relief. The chief medical officer had drastically downplayed the dire straits the company was in when you asked him. You'd seen the inventory. It was scarce. It wouldn't be right, going to medical right now. Not when you could most likely patch yourself up with the small medkit by your bunk. The clones made up the backbone of the GAR, it was only right that they take priority over you.

***

It was a miracle of the Force that you hadn't passed out by the time you reached the tent. Biting your lip to keep you from making too much noise, you peeled off your shirt to assess the damage, grabbing a towel from the shelf.

You bit back a pained moan and your vision swam as you gripped the edge of your cot to steady yourself. A large gash curled around the side of your chest from the bottom of your breast to your hip. The torn skin bled heavily, quickly turning the towel a crimson red.

This was...not good.

The com chirped, making you jump. You felt dazed and exhausted. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before answering the com. Sergeant Sinker's brisk voice echoed from the device.

"General, the clankers are moving in from the North. They've engaged the front and the 501st is calling for aid. What are your orders?"

Your men needed you. Who were you to ignore them? What kind of leader would you be if you sent them off while you stayed behind. "A good leader leads by example" Master Plo always said. You were tired of the animalistic way the clones were treated - as if they were only droids or worse. You would be there for your men, fighting right up front beside them. Right beside Commander Wolffe.

You lit up the com. "Proceed with the request, Sergeant. I'll be there shortly."

You looked at the medkit. Well, so much for that. You quickly taped up the wound and slapped some bacta treated gauze on it. Then you quickly changed your clothes, willing yourself to ignore the nauseating pain. You steadied yourself with a hand on the wall before wiping the cold sweat from your clammy skin. You tried to breathe, once more closing your eyes in meditation once again squashing down the pain. The show must go on. The General must lead her men into battle.

***

General Skywalker was right to call for aid. The Separatist forces were throwing everything they had at you. You jumped over the guns of a tank, slicing through the controls to disable it. Droid after droid came at you from all sides and you cut them down. If only the Commander could see you now in all your glory.

An explosion knocked you off your feet, wrenching you from your stupor. Pain surged through your body as you pushed yourself to your feet. The continuous onslaught of enemy forces wasn't so fun now. You began to realize just how tired you were. Trying to catch your breath felt as futile as swimming in honey. Your mind felt sluggish and your arms felt like lead. A B2 took aim and fired. You saw him fire and raised your saber to block but it was a fraction of a second too slow and the blast hit your shoulder. Kriff. You hit the ground hard, letting the awful, searing pain wash over you. You wanted to close your eyes. You wished you could just rest. Just for a moment.

Your eyes flew back open. No. The men need you. Get up. Shakily you forced yourself to your knees and onto your feet. One more time. You knew this was abusing the force but it was for an honorable reason. Right?

I am one with the force and the force is with me. I am one with the force and the force is with me. Pain is temporary. Accept it simply as a signal sent by the body. Accept the pain. Respect it. Don't fight it. Ask your body to begin to heal.

You let out a feral scream, pouring every last ounce of energy and willpower into your prayers, knocking back an entire wave of droids. And then you felt nothing.

***

My head. The first thing you noticed upon regaining consciousness was the skull splitting headache that you could almost feel radiating down your entire body. It felt as though someone was spearing red hot needles through your eyeballs, twisting them through the many sections of your brain. The pain made you nauseous.

An agonized wheeze drifted from your lips as you tried to raise your hands to cup your face. When did my arms get so heavy? Pain shot through your side and shoulder as you tried to move. Panic gripped you when you couldn't.

"Ah kriff," a gruff voice cursed. "Hey! General. General, it's okay. Calm down. You're safe." You'd know that voice anywhere - it was the only clear thing that cut through the haze of pain. Commander Wolffe.

He barked a command at someone and after a few minutes the pain had loosened it's claws. It wasn't much but it was better than before.

"What do you need, General? Are you still in pain?"

"Lights," you managed to groan. Even that took too much energy and you desperately hoped that you wouldn't be sick in front of the Commander.

Wolffe immediately jumped from his chair, quickly shutting off the lights. That helped some, but not much. It still felt like your head was being lobotomized by a pickaxe. Your side and shoulder felt like they'd been broken off and trampled by a bantha. A bantha that was on fire maybe.

"You are so kriffing stubborn, you know that!?" Wolffe growled. Seeing you wince, he lowered his volume but continued with the hard and bitter tone.

"How long did you think you could hide that!? Hmm?" He motioned to your side.

"You almost died yesterday." He said, softening his voice ever so slightly.

Wolffe looked tired. His eyes were sunken and even his cybernetic one had a dark shadow beneath it. He looked like he hadn't shaved or showered since the battle. His grey armor was still scuffed up with dirt and grime. A small bacta patch adorned his right eyebrow.

You looked away, shame burning at the corners your eyes, adding to the overwhelming pressure in your head. You failed him and now he hated you. You turned your head away from him wincing at the pain but you couldn't bear to have him see the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

"Look at me." A command. He didn't have the authority to give you a command, but you felt compelled to comply all the same. Hastily wiping your eyes in a futile attempt at seeming alright, you turned towards him. Your breath caught as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling it from your face.

"Stop kriffing pretending that you're okay." Still a command, but this one felt softer. His voice still held the rough, bitter edge that defined him so well but as you met his eyes, they held an uncertain gaze of vulnerability.

"Your men need you alive. They care about you, General." He paused, pacing back and forth in the dark room. He came to a stand still by the foot of your bed, refusing to meet your gaze, as though he had something he wanted to say. Finally he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Oh kriff it." He snapped. "I care about you, damnit!" He shook his head and began to pace again, the anger returning to his visage.

"General Plo said you could've died." He spat. "He said that you had spread yourself so thin, used up so much energy that you could've killed yourself. Do you..." He cut himself off and took another breath, clenching his fists tightly. "Do you know what that would've done to this company. Do you know what that would've done to me!?"

There was fire in his eyes when he looked back up at you. "It would've killed me too."

You lay there in your bed staring at him - shocked at this outburst. What was he saying? That he cared for you? That he loved you? That he thought about you as much as you thought about him?

"I.." you began softly.

"No. I'm not done."

You shut your mouth.

"General, when you came back to camp covered in blood, I had to restrain myself from throwing you over my shoulder and taking you to medical myself. I knew something was wrong but I trusted that you knew what you were doing. It was the same when I saw you collapse yesterday. It took everything in me not to race to your side."

He shook his head, disappointed in himself, and angry with you. "I should be holding the line with my men, not babysitting my General!"

You stared blankly ahead, letting his anger wash over you. So that's how he saw you. That solves one problem, you tried to convince yourself. It was good that he didn't reciprocate your feelings. That made it easier to cleanse yourself of any feeling of attachment. But then why didn't hurt so bad? Why did it feel like a part of your soul had been sawed away? Wasn't letting go of your emotions supposed to bring you peace? This crushing weight of disappointment and heartbreak was anything but peace.

The room was quiet save for the beeps and whirs of the medical equipment around you. The silence felt deafening. Then finally Wolffe let out a sigh.

"I'm....sorry..." The words dragged themselves reluctantly from his mouth.

You didn't respond.

The bed buckled slightly as Wolffe sat down on the edge. He tentatively rested a hand gently on your back, expecting you to recoil or stiffen under his touch. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as you leaned into his touch instead.

He sighed, rolling his neck. "Look," he began awkwardly. "I'm not good at this kind of thing so I'm just going to be honest with you. I..." He stopped. You turned your face towards his. He took a breathe, not daring to make eye contact. "I think I'm in love with you. Kriff. No, I know I'm in love with you."

You gasped, the dam broke and tears began to stream down your face.

Wolffe jumped up, startled and clearly embarrassed. "I...I mean... I... I didn't mean..." The normally confident Commander stumbled over his words in a shameful horror.

"No," you sobbed. You felt so relieved. Everything felt right again. "You didn't do anything wrong." He looked down at you, eybrows knitted upwards in confusion. "Then why..." He motioned to your tearful face.

"Because I love you too and I was afraid that you hated me. I was afraid that everyone would see me as a terrible General. And also my everything hurts and..." you sobbed, "...and I love you so much."

Wolffe looked down at you with amusement and a strange softness took hold of his features - a foreign look for his usually serious demeanor.

"You look nice when you smile," you whispered with a small grin. "But you can go back to frowning if that's more comfortable for you."

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he settled down in a chair beside your bed. "You should get some sleep, General." Back to his serious old self again but he kept that twinkle in his eye. Only for you. he thought.

"I'll be right here when you wake up."

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[harwinsgirl]

The White Sheep - Part 4 (Final) Harwin Strong x Reader

(Hello! Here is the final piece to The White Sheep. It took me awhile to find a way to write an ending that I was happy with. I wanted to tie in the reader’s relationship with Viserys some more, and I threw in a little epilogue. Hoping you guys like it. Sorry it took me so long! Damned writers block.)

For a good while, none of you spoke.

Guards were trained not to speak until spoken to unless there was something of importance, so the kingsguard in your father’s chambers resembled statues rather than men, eyes facing forward, seemingly unblinking, and arms at their sides. Harwin was propped up against a pillar with his arms crossed and his lips tight. He remained stoic and unreadable. Rhaenyra buzzed about impatiently, pacing in front of the door and mumbling to herself about the time.

That left you and your father, seated across from each other in cushioned chairs mere feet apart, with no words spoken between you. Your eyes never broke from his. It felt like a challenge, a tournament to see who would test the waters first, and you were determined to wait him out. The only movement from him was the drumming of his fingers along the wooden armrest. As the hours drained from the day, your father seemingly felt he had all the time in the world to simply stare at you.

Clearly, you were all at his mercy.

You had made it mere steps out of your chambers before you had been accosted by members of the kingsguard, who promptly summoned you to your father’s private quarters. Rhaenyra had began arguing and Harwin was about to make an inquiry before you agreed without question, halting any more interjections on your behalf.

It had seemed, yet again, that your wedding needed to be put on hold.

And yet, ever since you arrived, Viserys had not uttered a single sentence. He seemed more keen on staring at you, his gaze never faltering. He had not addressed any of you, stated his business, or gave any indication that he had any desire to do anything other than create an air of tension as thick as smoke.

Your sister could not stand it any longer.

“Father-“ Rhaenyra began, but Viserys held up his hand to silence her.

“No,” Viserys said firmly, “I am not done.”

“Done with what?” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “We have just been sitting here.”

“I am not done looking at her.” He said quietly. He spoke so softly that if you hadn’t been paying attention, his remark might’ve passed you by completely.

But you had heard, and your mouth opened slightly at his revelation.

This was…your father being concerned?

Rhaenyra shook her head and made her way over to him. “Are you checking for injuries?” she asked gently, “she has some superficial marks, but-“

“I am just looking at her.” Viserys interrupted, waving her off again. “Allow me to look at my own daughter, for gods sake.”

“Father,” Rhaenyra knelt down on one knee, wrapping one of her hands around his. “She’s okay. She’s a little bruised, but she’s going to be just fine.”

Viserys’ mouth trembled. A quick quiver that you almost missed, had you not been studying this man your whole life. He closed his eyes and squeezed them shut tightly, willing small tears to dissipate. His voice barely above a whisper, he opened his eyes and turned to your sister.

“But she almost wasn’t.”

And for the second time that day, Viserys had cried, this time being the only instance where you could recall ever hearing sobs that wracked his body. Not even when your dear mother and brother had left this earth did you recall hearing such sounds of pain and grief. Instantly you sprang from your chair and threw your arms around your ailing father, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“I love you, father.” You said shakily, holding back tears of your own. “I am okay, I promise. I am still here. I am still here.”

“You’re not hurt badly, are you?” He sniffed. He pulled back slightly so he could look at you again, his hands reaching to clasp yours. He looked so incredibly weary and it tugged at your heartstrings.

“No, no. Nothing like that. Praying that I am left with no scars.” You smiled reassuringly.

Your father nodded, wiping at his eyes. His attention then landed on your husband to be, who had continued to patiently stand in the corner of the room. “Ser Harwin, if you would please come closer. I desire a word.”

Harwin walked over to you and Viserys and bent down on one knee, tilting his head down. “Your grace.”

“Am I correct in understanding that you saved my daughter’s life?” Viserys asked.

“Yes, your grace.” Harwin answered, his eyes still cast down.

“This is not the only time father,” you said, interrupting the two of them. Harwin raised his head and looked at you, his eyes asking a silent question, the question being if it were the right thing to do to share what happened the night he proposed. There was no doubt in your mind that your father needed to hear this. Continuing, you placed your hand on Harwin’s shoulder as you looked at your father. “The other night, I was feeling so overwhelmed that I felt I needed the night air. I took a walk and ended up in the city. I was accosted by a man who did not know who I was, and he was acting untoward. I fear he may have acted upon his urges if Harwin had not been there to stop him.”

“Why am I just hearing about this?” Rhaenyra said incredulously. “You tell me everything.”

“A lot has happened in the past two days, dear sister,” you said, squeezing Harwin affectionately. “Most importantly, I realized how blessed I was to have this man in my life and that I love him with my whole heart. But now that he is my betrothed, it seems as if the gods are trying their damndest to keep us apart.”

“Your father will have something to do about that.” Viserys declared, standing up from his chair. He looked down at Harwin and gestured for him to stand as well. “Rise, my boy. Know that I owe you a great debt. You’ve taken such good care of my daughter, even before all of this. And now I’m hearing of instances where if you hadn’t come along, well, I can’t even imagine the outcomes. I’ve never thanked you for any of it.”

“I would say that it was my job, but it was always more than that.” Harwin said with a smile as he rose from the floor. He turned to you and took your hand in his. “She’s the most precious gem in all of the seven kingdoms. I would’ve stayed by her side in any position, for I believe that I was put on this earth to be her protector. Being her husband seems too good to be true.”

“I will not stand in your way any longer,” Viserys said, looking at the two of you. “I know I said some truly monstrous things to the both of you-“

“It was a terrible shock,” you murmured. “We could’ve handled it better.”

“Regardless, I see now that I made a mistake in dismissing Ser Harwin. In fact, he may be the only man whose willing to take on the arduous task of wedding you.”

“Father!” You laughed, smacking his arm playfully. Viserys smiled back at you in return. He looked genuinely happy in that moment, relieved that you were alright and that you were to be in good hands.

“I can prepare the sept in a moment’s time.” He continued. “We shouldn’t delay. I’ll send word for-“

“Actually, father, would you like to accompany me on a walk?”

~~~

Viserys felt like he was in a dream.

The brisk night air nipped at his skin, but it didn’t bother him. It made him feel alive, more alive than he had in years. On either side of him were his two daughters. His beautiful, strong, lively daughters who would probably send him to an early grave with all the worrying they caused him, and yet in moments like these he hardly cared. Rhaenyra, his heir, his firstborn, strode forward with confidence, her boisterous laughter causing his heart to swell with pride. And then there you were, clutching onto his arm as you walked, your head resting against him as your eyes wandered, taking in the scenery of the woods as if you were memorizing every last detail. Both of you were remnants of his beloved Aemma in entirely different ways. It broke his heart and healed it almost simultaneously. Truly, her last gift to him was his daughters, and she even had the foresight to bestow upon the greatest pieces of herself to them before she left him.

He would be sure to thank her again when the time came.

Viserys stood alongside Rhaenyra and several dutiful handmaidens and guards as you said your vows to Harwin. It was an unorthodox wedding to be sure, but that hardly bothered him. Traditions were meant to be upheld, but somehow this felt right, more true to the situation that a sept would be. Torches were staked into the damp earth, casting a golden glow on you and Harwin, illuminating the two of you and shielding you from the blanket of darkness. The sounds of the creek cresting over river rock were like music to his ears, as well as the sounds of the winds brushing through the pines. Stars twinkled and glistened up above, piercing through the blackness of the night.

It brought the old king to tears. He would have to have you all swear on your lives to not mention all of his fits that he had on this day. No one would respect a king who was moved to tears by the wind, of all things.

But was it the wind that moved him?

Or was it you, his youngest daughter, standing before him in a radiant white dress, hair coiled and dancing about as the air brushed by, your eyes sparkling as you pledged your love to your husband. It must’ve been you. No sight in recent memory was as lovely as you, your beaming smile would forever be etched in his mind when Harwin lifted in you in the air, twirling you around triumphantly after all was said and done and you were at last his lawful wife.

No one clapped as loudly as Viserys. No one drank as much wine as he did, no one insisted on staying out in the little patch of grass outside of the palace as long as he did. No one clutched at that moment as strongly as him.

Except for you, of course. You did your very best to soak up every feeling, to remember every detail of the night. Harwin’s smile, Rhaenyra’s drunken dancing, your father’s wheezing after he heard a very funny joke. The way the forest looked bathed in firelight. The creek. The feeling of the grass between your toes as Harwin led you in another dance.

His lips upon yours. Again, and again and again.

Truly, it was a night that would live on in the memories of all who shared it with you.

However all nights end, and so did yours. But you were correct in predicting it’s legacy. As it was stated in the histories, in the late late hours of the evening of a crisp fall night, the youngest Targaryen princess married the eldest son of House Strong, in a serene woodland wedding that only a blessed few had the privilege of seeing with their own eyes.

There was passionate kisses, rounds of dancing and drinking, followed by an impromptu feast that lasted until the sun rose over the hills.

The white sheep had finally married her white knight.

And all would be well.

Epilogue

In his later years, Viserys would be pleased whenever you and Lord Harwin came to visit. With your joyful brood surrounding you, you chided your children to be careful with their grandsire as one by one they bounded past you in an attempt to be the first to reach him. Three beautiful brunette children would scramble over him in an attempt to be the one who would grace his lap. Finally, there was an audience who appreciated his stories and wit.

Viserys loved holding his grandchildren as he told them tale after tale. He would hide his frustration whenever they broke one of his plastered creatures in the ceramic kingdom he had spent years building. He insisted they sit next to him during dinners, mainly so he could engage in a friendly grape eating contest with your youngest, Viseryon.

One night, after personally putting each of your children to bed, Viserys wandered the halls in search of you. Your daughter Rozenn had said such a clever barb during dinner and he wanted to tell you before it slipped his memory. Casting a glance out the window, he spotted you and your husband of nearly ten years, fast asleep, propped up against the godswood.

He smiled, shaking his head before turning on his heel and making his way to find a servant. His story would have to wait. He’d have a blanket be brought out to cover the two of you. There’d be no sense in having you catch a cold.

As long as Viserys roamed this earth, you’d always own a piece of his heart.

When you awoke in the early morning, you grasped at the woolen blanket with confusion, as you and Harwin had not intended on falling asleep when you snuck away from some privacy. Harwin grumbled as he stretched, his arm draping over you as he burrowed his head into the crook of your neck. He was not ready to face the day quite yet.

You placed a kiss on his forehead before closing your eyes as well. The day could wait a little longer for the two of you.

And you’d be sure to thank your father for his blanket at breakfast.

@vainillasmil157

@gimalo135

@evyiione

[butlersxbirdy]

Part 5: There's A Pretty Little Thing Waiting For The King Down In The Jungle Room

Warnings: dom/sub elements, punishments, angst, Graceland visits, grief, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, cuteness

Austin takes his punishment well, with only a little pouting, and you spend the remainder of the day after his punishment is through naked in your jungle room. He spreads your legs and goes to town; looking, kissing, touching, He has you against the wall, on the couches, on the floors even. Everywhere he can take you, he does. You go to bed early that night, him still inside you, but when he wakes, you're gone. He pats the bed beside him and lifts his head. The morning sun is shining too bright for his tastes, and he frowns. He looks around for you, and is about to call your phone when he sees you. You're sitting in a floral sundress he picked out for you, resting in the yard under the big tree. You're reading something, listening to music, and drinking a cup of coffee, and you look happy. He watches for awhile until he just can't stand to be away from you any longer. He pulls on some joggers and goes outside to join you. His tall frame leans against the tree as he takes over use of your small speaker. Walking In Memphis starts playing and he sees you smile and blush, but you keep reading.

"Good morning, Baby," you sigh happily, still looking at your book.

"Morning, Mama. Whatcha reading?" He asks, taking a small sip of your coffee.

"When you open

my letter you will recall

those days and how much,

just how much, I love you," you read aloud and Austin grins.

"Raymond Carver," he says softly. "Great writer."

"I'm enjoying this very much," you say to him. He sits with you quietly, until he absolutely can't.

"We're going to Graceland today," he says excitedly, and rests his head on your thigh.

"I know," you grin and play with his hair.

"Are you excited?" He asks and you set aside your book.

"I am so excited, baby," you assure him. "I've loved every minute of this trip. And of my life with you."

He closes his eyes and smiles, laying on you and nuzzling your soft skin.

"I love you endlessly," he hums and your smile widens. Eventually you go back inside to take a nap before you have to get ready for Graceland, and despite Austin's protests you insist that both of you actually do nap.

When you wake, you cuddle against your warm big spoon boyfriend, and you pull up your dress. He stirs slowly, hand wandering between your legs to push your panties aside. You push your hips back towards him, and a moan escapes your lips when he pushes inside you, rolling his hips.

"Much better way to wake up," he grunts, hands sqeezing and massaging your chest from behind. "You left me alone, Mama..." he moans, voice cracking as you clench around him.

"I know, baby... I'm sorry for that. Wanna show me how much you missed me?" You ask and he hums, kissing your neck and shoulders, thrusting harder and faster. He jackhammers into you at a punishing pace, and you feel your orgasm fast approaching.

"Fuck! Fuck! Austin!" You moan as he pinches your nipple, presses down on your clit, and bites down on your neck all at once. You cry out as pleasure crashes over you, taking you by surprise, and you feel him spill inside you with one hand on your belly. When he pulls out, you turn in his arms and give him a heated, open mouthed kiss. He smiles and his hand tangles in your hair as he kisses you back.

"Baby..." you mumble between kisses.

"We gotta get ready."

"I know," he grumbles, kissing you more, then stops. "I know." He kisses you one last time and then helps you out of bed.

"I'm gonna clean you up, hang on," he smiles and when he comes back, he kneels between your legs and does just that. You smile down at him and pet his hair, his favorite reassurance, and you kiss his chest when he stands. His hand rests on your belly and you think of something you've been meaning to ask him.

"Hey, Aust? Do you... wanna be a dad?" You ask softly, placing your hand on his, and his eyes widen.

"Are you..." he whispers and you laugh.

"No! God, no! But you've been calling yourself Daddy, talking about my belly getting big and my boobs growing, specifically when we have sex, I just wanted to know," you explain. He blushes and shrugs.

"How sexy I'd find you when you're pregnant does not mean either of us are ready to have a child. But if I am gonna ever have babies," he grins, and leans in close. "I'm gonna have them with you," he whispers and kisses your jaw.

"So... just a kink for now. I can work with that," you hum and he looks at you.

"Mama... really?" He asks, trembling with excitement.

"Absolutely, Babie. But not now. Now, we need to get ready to go to Graceland," you remind him and he groans, leaning on you.

"Fiiiiine," he sighs, and reluctantly leads you to the shower.

After the slow morning, you're actually ready quite quickly. You do your hair in loose waves again, and do your makeup with black liner, a glitter inner corner, and thick lashes. You put on the dress that you got to surprise Austin. It's beautiful, drapey, so 70's, and a little bit Priscilla. When he sees you in it, he swoons a little, his knees weakening.

"Oh my god..." he hums and you look him up and down.

His blue jacket, barely buttoned white shirt, and tight distressed jeans with boots make you want to bend over and show him the lingerie you've picked to go under your dress but you resist the urge and instead kiss his cheek teasingly. You slip on your heels and walk towards the door.

"Come on, Baby," you say sweetly and he follows like a puppy dog. He kneels for you in the car again and you get some work emails done on your phone while playing with his hair. He smiles and kisses your thighs adoringly the whole ride there. When you arrive, it's quiet. You put your phone away, and Austin gets out of the car so he can open the door for you and take your hand.

This was it. Graceland. The whole reason you're here. The symbol of how Austin spent his days before you came into his life. As you walk up the steps to the front door, Austin keeps his eyes on you. His girl, in this house, felt about as close to a miracle as he was gonna get.

When the guard waves you in, you push the door open. Austin snaps a picture of you, then watches as you walk in. The second you are in the house, you feel different. There is joy in these walls, and sadness. Sitting there, waiting for you, is the subject of love you know was here too. Priscilla scrolls her phone until she sees you, and she stands to greet you.

"What do you think, so far?" She asks, and you nod, barely able to speak.

"I uh..." you sniffle, trying not to fully cry. "It's amazing!"

"That makes me happy," she grins, squeezing your hand. "Don't cry though, honey. It's okay. This house is a happy place," she assures you and looks at Austin. He looks torn between holding you and just letting you feel it all.

"How does it feel to be back?" She asks him and he huffs out a wry chuckle.

"It's weird. It's good," he grins. "It's better here," he adds, looking at you.

She smiles knowingly and she leads you around the kitchen, and you see Gladys's cookbooks on the shelves. You smile at Austin and squeeze his hand, and when you pass by the piano bench, you look at him.

"No pouting on the piano bench today, baby," you tease him and he laughs, head thrown back and he pulls you close to him.

"I won't. I'm with you," he giggles and you roll your eyes but you're smiling.

He leads you up the stairs then, and when you approach Elvis and Priscilla's old bedroom, he scoops you up, bridal style, and walks in, still holding you.

"Austin!" You shriek. "Put me down!" You laugh and he shakes his head.

"Never," he chuckles, but when he kisses you, you slide your body against his, lowering your legs to the floor. You kiss him and Priscilla takes her turn to photograph the two of you, kissing in her old room. You break apart and look at her.

"Sorry... uh..." you look down and he looks away. Priscilla laughs.

"Oh please, you two. I've done worse, in... okay, every room in this house," she laughs and Austin hides his face. "Come on, you gotta see the original jungle room," she says to you and after you look around a bit, you follow her lead. When the door to the jungle room opens and you walk in, you can't breathe for a second.

"Its like..." you gasp and Priscilla looks at you.

"He's here. I know," she says quietly. Austin goes to sit where he sat to play Can't help Falling In Love, and he pats the seat beside him.

"Come here, Baby," he looks at you. You instantly obey, and he pulls you into his lap, holding you close.

"You okay?" You ask softly.

"Miss him sometimes. I love him, you know?" He says softly and you kiss his temple.

"Just feel it baby, I'm right here," you assure him and he hides his face against your chest. You sit there together feeling the enormity of the moment. You don't realize you're making any noise until Austin looks at you.

"What're you muttering Mama?" He asks, grinning at you.

"She's talking to him. Saying thank you," Priscilla says knowingly and you nod.

"That's exactly what I was doing," you blush and Austin kisses you.

"I love it... keep going," he says softly, holding you against his chest and you both say a few words to the King who can't hear you. After a few moments, Austin stands slowly with you in his arms, then sets you down near the window.

"Pose, Baby," he hums and you do, looking at him through hooded eyes, as though he wasn't Austin, but Elvis. He swallows thickly and takes the picture, then he looks at you.

"See me, Mama?" He asks quietly and you nod, giving him the look you always give him when he's feeling especially submissive. Its a blazing, powerful, intimidatingly loving look and Priscilla looks away immediately upon seeing it. Austin grins and blushes, and takes a photo, then he takes you back to the couch where he played the song. Priscilla cautiously re-enters as he begings to sing to you in a low voice. In that moment, Elvis is in the building, Austin is gone. You sit with him, hardly daring to move or breathe, so as not to disrupt him, but he leans in. You rub his back, stroke his hair, and kiss his soft skin while he sings a few songs to you, and when he's done, you smile at him, tears in your eyes.

"That was great," you whisper, and he cups your face, drying your tears. Priscilla snaps a photo, and smiles.

"Don't mind me. Just had to get that," she whispers and exits quickly, making the two of you laugh.

"Did you tell people not to take photos of me or something? Because everyone's acting like they shouldn't. Even you," you ask and he shakes his head.

"I told everyone to take as many as they could," he whispers and kisses you. "I just didn't want you to feel watched."

"I wanna remember though. When I'm old and senile, and can't even remember my own name, I wanna remember this. Remember you," you say firmly and your voice hardly shakes. He presses his forehead against yours and you cup his jaw, the two of you just taking it all in for a moment of silence.

When you finally leave the Jungle Room, you spend a little more time in the house. Austin shows you everything, some things twice, and you let him. He seems so happy, and you're enjoying the experience. When you leave, he takes you out to the rose garden so he can smell the flowers. From afar you can see the final resting place of Elvis, and his mother, but Austin shakes his head.

"Not today, Baby," he says softly and you nod, squeezing his hand gently. He smiles at you and he snaps a few more of you among the flowers. You take a selfie with him, which are rare for you two as a couple, but you want one of this day. He's happy to oblige, and kisses you through most of the pathways of the garden.

"I love this. I love you," you whisper, and Priscilla joins you shortly after.

"Time to go?" She asks, and you look at Austin.

"Well I'm starting to feel like I could stay forever, so I think that means it is, yes," you answer and Austin nods.

"That's how it was for me the first time too, Baby. But we'll come back before we go, okay?" He promises. You smile and nod.

"Perfect," you agree.

You say your goodbyes to Priscilla and plan to meet for dinner later. You get in the car and Austin goes to get on his knees for you, but he looks uncomfortable, not like your subby Kitten at all. You shake your head and stop him. Instead you get on your knees for him, and rest your head on his lap. His head tilts back as he puts his hand in your hair, and you reach up with one hand to hold his free one.

"I will always love you," he whispers and your eyes close as you start to cry.

"I love you so much, Austin," you sob.

You're not even sad, just overcome with emotion. So many feelings inside you after that experience, you can no longer hold them back.

"I love you, Mama. So much," he coos to you, and his eyes are also shining. "I miss them," he says softly.

"Miss who, baby?" You ask, squeezing his hand gently.

"Elvis, and," he takes a breath. "My mom," he sniffs. "I know Elvis missed Gladys too."

"They are both so proud of you, baby. I know that for a fact. When we go back, we should go and leave some flowers for Elvis and his mom," you suggest softly and he looks down at you.

"That might be too much for me, Mama. Can I let you know how I feel at the time?" He asks and you nod.

"Yes. Good boy for setting your boundaries, you make me so proud and happy," you reassure him and he nods with a small smile on his face. He still feels the grief, but he has you. He's had you for longer than he's had you, and he wants to talk about it, but he says nothing, instead letting it fall to the silence he's all too rapidly adjusting to. If he brings it all up now, you'll leave for sure, and he doesn't want that. There's been too much loss, too much pain. Too much distance, so what's a little more to maintain the closeness he's been granted?

You sit like that for the rest of the drive, and when you get to the house, he carries you inside. He lays you on the bed, frees your feet from your high heels and rubs them a bit. He then slides your dress off and bites his lip at the pink floral harness lingerie set you wore all day beneath the dress.

"Oh Mama," he sighs and you blush.

"Just for you, Baby. But I actually think-"

"We need to not have sex right now and just be together? I know," he smiles and you lean against him.

"I'm gonna go change," you whisper, kissing him sweetly before walking off. When you're satisfied that he's not listening, you call Priscilla.

"Hey, Priscilla, its me, Y/N. I need your help with something."

By the time the early evening rolls around, you have a plan in place. Austin is napping before dinner, and you scurry off to get dressed. You put on a long black dress and your black heels, and you leave Austin a note.

"Sorry you're waking up alone again.

Go to dinner with Priscilla, I'll meet you there.

I love you."

You place it on the bed beside him, and check your phone before you go. When you do, you see a photo Austin took of you, that he posted to instagram with a caption that makes you want to stay and hold him forever.

"There's a pretty little thing waiting for The King, down in the Jungle Room."

You smile and look at him for as long as you dare without waking him, and you run out the door to find a car waiting for you.

Thank you, Priscilla.

You give the address of the flower shop you had seen yesterday to the driver. You take a deep breath when you get 4 blocks away from the house. Austin is still asleep; You haven't gotten a frantic call from him yet. When the driver pulls up to the shop, you have him wait while you go in and pick out 2 simple but beautiful bouquets. You hurry back to the car and he looks back at you.

"Ready to go?" He asks and you nod.

"You know where to go?" You ask and he nods.

You sit back and think about everything that has happened since getting together with Austin.

Your career had exploded into success. Your sex life was the best you'd ever experienced. On a daily basis you felt loved, respected, and completely worshipped. You couldn't imagine being any happier than you are now, and you're pretty sure you knew who to thank, so that's what you had to do.

When you drive slowly through the gates of Graceland, you check your phone. It was on silent, but you had about 20 missed calls from Austin. You'd only been gone about an hour.

You look at the photo of him that you have as your phone screen saver, and then you put your phone away. You get out of the car and slowly walk over to the part of the garden Austin wouldn't go to. You stand there, silently, with both bouquets, and you lay one on Elvis's headstone.

"You didn't wanna be called the King, but you were absolutely royalty. We love you so much, and I can't begin to thank you for what you brought to the love of my life. I met Priscilla by the way. She's amazing, still," you say softly. "I can't talk about you to him. I want to. But it's too hard. Seeing you, but wishing I was seeing him," your voice breaks and you shake your head. "You almost broke me, Mr. Presley." You close your eyes against the memories. "And for that, I love you."

You then look to the headstone next to him. The reason you're really here. Gladys Presley. You lay the flowers down and you start to talk.

"You know, Gladys, he lost his mom when he was 23 too. I think it connected him to your son. I think his love for her, and Elvis's love for you made all this possible. Imagine that, Mrs. Presley," you laugh. "Two boys who love their mothers, coming together to make some magic.

I think you'd love Austin a lot, but I'm biased. I wish I could protect him, but I know he had you," you take a deep breath.

"Thank you for looking after him. And tell Lori thank you from me. I hope you've met, wherever you are. I hope you're both proud of both of your sons. Because I have to say... I am. So proud I could burst," you whisper and the tears start to fall. "I swear, I have no idea what's going to happen with us, but I just hope that I always remember this feeling. Of loving him so much that I snuck out of the house to tell Elvis Presley's mother about it," you laugh through the tears. "I love him so much it's gonna break me," you cry.

"Princess," you hear behind you and you gasp and turn around.

"Austin, what..." you ask, taking in the sight of him. He's in a white suit and a dark, barely buttoned shirt, like some kind of tempting angel. He looks absolutely beautiful, but a bit sad. By way of explaining what he's doing here, he nods in the direction behind you. You turn to see Priscilla waiting.

"She told me, after I called her when you didn't answer," he explains.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to push you. I still had to come and say my thanks," your voice is timid and he reaches for you, assuring you.

"I know," he says softly, a small smile on his face. "I heard you. And I love you too," he whispers against your lips, tears falling as he kisses you soundly, and as you get lost in each other, you feel the world fall away. Eventually he breaks the kiss and holds out his hand to you. "Come on," he grins and you take one last look at the graves before you take his hand and follow him.

He leads you toward the house, and you frown.

"I thought we were going to dinner," you ask, completely confused.

"We are, just..." he trails off and leads you back through the maze and he opens the door you know by heart at this point. There are candles lit in the jungle room, and flower petals everywhere.

You gasp and look at Austin, who keeps his eyes on you the whole time as he walks to the center of the room. He looks beautiful, and so happy. He's smiling widely, and his eyes are bright.

"You know, even when you're running from me, and being mysterious, and dancing wildly around all the elephants in the room, I absolutely love and trust you. This trip has opened my eyes to what I have always known; your capacity for love and empathy is magical, and I want to make you happy for the rest of our lives," he says quietly, before sinking to the ground on one knee. You gasp.

"Oh my god," you whisper.

"You are my Mama, My Queen, my princess, my partner, my best friend, my love. Will you do me the honor of being my wife on top of all that?" He is smiling but he's so nervous as he holds out a simple but gorgeous band of rose gold and diamonds. You look down at him, unable to move, and then it clicks; you're in the jungle room. Austin is proposing. Just breathe.

This is what you'd feared, when you ran from him back to California, on the day that looms ever present between you every day. That Elvis would always be so much a part of him that you'd never be able to discern the truth of him. But then, you were the one who ran. You made him prove himself, and he had, and he did all this without knowing that you had a question for him too.

You fumble through your purse, grabbing the ring you'd been carrying for days; a black and platinum band with the date you two got together engraved on the inside. You show it to him and he gasps.

"Mama!" He gasps, and he looks at you in disbelief. "Is it a yes?" He asks and you nod.

"Nothing will make me happier," you say tearfully, and he slides the ring onto your finger. He holds up his hand for you and you do the same for him. He admires how it looks in the light then pulls you close to him in an intimate hold, cradling your whole body while his tongue explores your mouth.

You melt against him completely and you sit there, nuzzling and kissing each other.

"I love you," you whisper. "Fuck I love you so much."

"I love you more," he moans, and presses kisses to your neck and chest, touching you everywhere he can. You kiss his hair and the side of his face, hands running down his back and over his arms and sides.

"We should... oh! Go!" You gasp, interrupted by his lips between your breasts, biting and licking the soft valley.

"Should we?" He hums absentmindedly against your skin. He has pulled your dress down now and it is hard to focus.

"We... FUCK!" you cry out when his lips wrap around your nipple. "We should because there's open flame in a room that is literally an irreplaceable national treasure," you manage to get out between gasps and whines, and at that Austin sits back.

"Oh.." he huffs, lips puffy and eyes blown. "You're right. Okay. We can continue this."

"After dinner," you make sure he knows. "Which we are going to. Be a good boy for Mama," you coo and he grins lazily.

"Til the end of my days, My love," he says, voice full of longing and admiration. You practically melt all over again and by the time you get everything cleaned up, its almost completely dark. You walk out and Priscilla smiles, that crooked knowing smile.

"What were you two doing in there?" She asks and Austin shows her his ring. You hold yours up too and she gasps.

"What?!" She squeals and Austin kisses your cheek, holding you tight.

"He proposed and so I gave him the ring I'd been carrying to give him," your voice cracks as the happy tears come.

"Well I know I said you two were buying next time, but I can't help it. We're going somewhere nice and its on me, but first," she grins and hands me a dress bag.

"Y/N dear, get changed. You look like a widow, and you're not." She looks at Austin and then at you. "You're a bride."

My bride, he thinks, looking at you like a man possessed. Maybe now we can talk about how we got here.

[chaotic-kitty]

Could we get a part 2 of Edge of despair where its hurt/comfort and a more happy end god please I just read it and now I need a hug :,>

I’m so sorry! 😭😅But yes, I would love to do a second part. There were a few other people wanting to see more, specifically, more selfish Asra. I did a poll on my Insta asking if I should do more hurt then comfort, or straight to the comfort…..The winner was more hurt then comfort. So, unfortunately there is a bit more angst to come. BUT!! There is a better ending. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you like this next part.💕

Edit: Hey 😭😭 I posted this on my Insta awhile ago but held off posting it here because I wanted to post both this and the last chapter. Because of writers block and other issues, I have never finished it……yet. I’m finally going to post this, but unfortunately……..it has no comfort what so ever😭😭 (another reason I wasn’t going to post it). So if you do read this, you’re going to need another hug. I do hope to finish this at some point though, so you may end up receiving that hug😭🫂

The Arcana: The Edge Of Despair: Chapter 2

I would like to issue a Trigger Warning for this chapter! Please read with caution.

Warnings: Angst, Descriptive Flashbacks, Hurt, Past Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts.

Pairing: GN! Apprentice x Asra

Chapter one link

You don’t know how long you had been here, hunched over yourself on the floor as you cried. Was it minutes? Hours? You didn’t know. Time felt like it had stopped, but also flew right by. You didn’t know how it had happened, the fight with Asra. The things he had said had taken you by surprise. You had never even considered he felt like that given how kind and loving he was towards you, especially in the past few years. He had been there for you. And he was always the one encouraging you to heal and move on and to not force the memories. The Asra that you saw tonight was nothing like the Asra you’re used too. He had never treated you like that, never treated anyone like that. You didn’t even think Asra was capable of being so selfish.

You take a deep breath as you notice yourself starting to hyperventilate. Since Asra had left, you had just been sat here crying. Every time you thought it had stopped, all these thoughts would come rushing back in, and you’d start all over again. As your heart rate slows, you muster up all the will you have to pull yourself together, just long enough to get to bed. You sink into the soft nest of blankets and pillows as you’re lost to sleep. Your dreams a mixture of memories of the argument and the previous night as you recall your breakdown and the incident that had led you here…

~The night before~

It had been a busy day. You had spent the whole day running around serving customers, taking inventory, stocking the shelves. Usual shop up-keep. You’d barely been able to go five seconds before another customer had come in needing your attention. You were getting tired and hungry. Usually, attending to customers wasn’t THIS draining, but recently it was different. After binding the Devil to his realm, word had spread about your situation. Sure, people used to stop and stare at you all the time. Huddling in groups, talking to each other in hushed tones as they looked you over with barely contained dismay. Guess you knew why now. You had died of the plague. But there you were, alive and well. These days, however, customers had taken to asking you about it. Wanting to know how you died, how it felt to stay at the Lazaret, if there was a place after the death. The obvious questions you ask the only former-dead-person-you-know. You tried your best to divert the conversations, especially as you didn’t know the answers to most of the questions.

After serving the last customer for the day, you put up the ‘closed’ sign and watched as the sun dipped below the horizon. It was getting late and Asra was likely to be home soon. He had been acting strange lately. You didn’t know what it was, though. Seeing as you had barely eaten, and it was approaching dinner time, you decided that a nice home cooked meal was maybe what the two of you needed. You thought about food options as you made your way to the small kitchenette.

After prepping everything for dinner, you had moved on to go light the stove as the stove salamander was refusing to. Your mind raced through the stressful events of the past few months as you lit the fire. The smell and heat of the fire caused you to stop. The world before you began to fade in and out, and you felt your heartbeat pulse throughout your body…

Your head grew heavy; the sudden smell of smoke and, what could only be described as burnt flesh, was smothering. Your body felt weak and distant. You vaguely registered the sound of a piercing wail. It was everything you had to just peel your eyes open. It was near darkness, the only light coming from the furnace just a few feet from you. That furnace was your future, the future of all who came to the Lazaret. You watched as two people, dressed in protective gear and beaked masks, load a body into the furnace. Your heart lurched as tears pricked your vision, you thought of Julian, likely in the middle of searching for a cure, oblivious to the fact you were here on the floor of the Lazaret dying of the plague. Or Asra. You hadn’t seen him since the fight, it had been so long since then. Was that going to be the last memory you had of him? Was that going to be the last memory he had of you? Neither of them knew you were sick. Neither knew you were here, alone, dying. Your tears were straining to break free, “I-I’m s-sorry.” You choked out, your voice hoarse. You knew they couldn’t hear you, you knew they wouldn’t know that they were all you could think of as you lay here. One of the people was approaching you, the sight of them fading in and out as you struggled to keep your eyes open. You felt arms grip you. It was suddenly too hot. You tried screaming, tried moving, but it was of no use, your body wasn’t responding. Why couldn’t you move?! The temperature was rising, and unbearable pain filled your body. Your screams still stuck in your throat. Your thoughts slowly came to a stop as flames filled your vision. *CRASH*

You were thrown back into the present, body trembling, skin clammy, as your ears filled with the sound of a window crashing against the window pane. As you move to get up, vertigo seizes you. After waiting for it to stop, you groggily make your way to the window to close it. Your thoughts are slow to surface, the feeling of your heartbeat still pulsing throughout your body. With the last of your energy, you collapse on the bed. After a few moments of silence, tears start pouring down your face as your mind finally catches up with itself. You can no longer hold it back, you scream into the pillows as every emotion tears though you. Every fibre of your being screaming out in pain. That’s how you stay for the rest of the night, until your body succumbs to exhaustion.

~The next morning (Present)~

Sunlight filtered through the windows, rousing you from your slumber. You felt exhausted, your body heavy. The events of last night played again, and again, in your mind. You were still upset, angry, and heartbroken. You had every right to be, of course. But, that didn’t make you feel any better. While Asra had said some horrible things, you had too. Sure, it was actual emotions and feelings that you felt, but screaming them at him probably wasn’t the right way to go about telling him. If you felt this bad, you couldn’t imagine how Asra was feeling. After the things he said to you last night, it was hard to separate your fears and insecurities from fact and reality. You knew that he was likely regretful about what he said to you. Likely beating himself up over it. No matter what had happened, anytime you and Asra had ever fought (that you could remember) he was always so horrified at his actions. Horrified that he raised his voice at you, ignored you, made you cry, anything. You knew that the thought of hurting you in any way would often tear him apart. Not that the two of you ever really fought. You both get along so well together, and Asra in particular tries to diffuse a situation before it gets to that point, but when fights do happen it’s bad. 

Though, for all that you knew that, you couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t care, like he truly regretted bringing you back. Maybe it would’ve just been better if he had never brought you back. You wouldn’t have to suffer through the pain of not remembering him or your life before, wouldn’t have to suffer with the memories of your death and the plague, wouldn’t have to heal from everything. And Asra? He wouldn’t have to suffer through dealing with this pale imitation of the person you used to be, wouldn’t have to deal with teaching you everything again, like you’re some child. Maybe if you weren’t here anymore he could finally move on, properly this time. And so could everyone else. Maybe, just maybe, you could leave this realm behind again and find peace somewhere else. Finally able to rest. It would be easier, you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain anymore… 

You gingerly pull the covers off yourself as you wake your way downstairs to the shopfront, anxiety coursing through you. Being a magic shop, you owned and sold a lot of potions and other magical remnants. Though some you never put on display for customers. Making your way to the small storage room, you search through shelves of potions, looking for a specific one. There! You pick up the small vial, turning over to read the label. ‘Deadly Starstrand’. One of the most powerful poisons you owned. You sink to sit on the floor. One drop. One drop is all it would take. You sit in silence for a few moments, contemplating your next move… You can’t. You can’t do this. Asra gave up half of his heart to bring you back, whether you wanted him to or not. What would it do to him? That other half beats in your body. If you were to die, what would happen to him? You can’t risk hurting him. You shake the thoughts from your head, putting the vial away and leaving. One day you’ll be able to go back, you’ll be able to find peace again. But today’s not that day.

After having a quick breakfast, you get ready. You’re going to go find Asra and sort this all out. After doing what you need to do, you leave the shop. With everything that has happened recently, you lock all the locks and put a ‘cross-me-not’ spell on the door. Now to find Asra. You close your eyes, searching for the connection you share with him. A connection that binds his heart to yours. Even now, forging the connection is as easy as breathing. You follow it through the streets of Vesuvia until you arrive at the docks. The docks are bustling with people and boats. Why would Asra be here? You thought, looking around. Unless he’s not… You seek out the connection again…. It’s coming from the Lazaret. You take a deep breath, calming yourself. If Asra was at the Lazaret, then that’s where you’re going. Now you just needed to find a way to get there. There are plenty of boats, so hopefully that means that there is someone here who could take you. After a few minutes, you find a gondolier cleaning up their gondola. “Excuse me, hi. I was wondering if you could give me a ride?” 

The person looks at you as they stand. “Sure thing. Where to?”

“The Lazaret.”

The gondolier raises an eyebrow. “The Lazaret aye? What are you doin’ going there?” 

“Oh, nothing that interesting… So can you take me or not?”

“Yeah, I can take ya’”

“Is this enough?” You ask, pulling out a pouch of coins.

“Yeah. That’ll do just fine.” They say, testing the weight of the pouch in their hands.

The trip passes by quickly, before you know it you’re at the shores of the Lazaret. Swallowing any fears that you have, you get out of the boat, your feet sinking slightly in the ashen sand. “Could you stay here? I’ll be back soon.”

They look over at you, then to the Lazaret. “You got 30 minutes, after that you’re on your own.”

“Thanks.”

Seeking out the connection once more, you head off. The Lazaret isn’t as bad as you had remembered. Sure it was kinda creepy and smelt horrible, but, it was different. The water reflected the sun beautifully, the black sand was giving way to gorgeous, blossoming plants. The birds were chirping happily in the trees. For a place of death, it was amazing how much life there was. How much this place was still one with nature. However, you could feel it, the weight of all the souls still stuck here. You could feel them, watching you from afar, curious. 

“-end”. A sound stops you in your tracks. But it didn’t come from the Lazaret, you could hear it in your mind. “Friend!” 

Faust! You could hear her little voice clearer this time. They must be close. Rounding the corner you see Asra, knees to his chest, Faust draped across his shoulders. “Friend here! Friend here!” She says happily, slithering to you. You pick her up. “Faust. How’s my little danger noodle?” 

“Danger noodle!”

“I missed you so much, Faust.” 

“Missed friend!”

You pat her, scratching lightly under her head. “How’s Asra?” 

“Friend sad. Worried.”

“It’s okay, Faust. It’ll be okay.”

“Help?”

“I’ll try.” You give her a small smile as you make your way towards Asra.

[jiminrings]

I REQUEST A SOFT BADBOY DRABBLE WITH SHY READER AND HES TEASING HER BUT SOMEONE ELSE JOIMS IN AND THEYRE DOING IT TO BE MEAN BUT HES LIKE STFU BEFORE I PUMCH UR FACE ONLY IM ALLOWED TO BULLY SHY READER GRR 😡😡😡😡 and soft readers like 0.o but *squeals incoherently* 😭😭😭😭

last name, jeon.

drabble week: day two

drabble week masterlist

pairing: badboy!jungkook x shy!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "can't you tell that i really don't want you to be here?"

notes: a tiny change on the plot!! also: frat boy!jimin from day four makes an appearance :D

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“do you wanna form-“

... yes

you DO have an alliance with jungkook

it's a very fair trade honestly

he pretends to be your boyfriend!! there's no specific boundaries to it, but he springs into action as soon as you're put into an inconvenience

in exchange, you whore him out to your friends!!! :D

no but literally that's how he called it

the whole reason this came to be in the first place is because you hATE confrontation with a burning passion

especially when it comes to those "i have a crush on you" moments that people spring on you all of a sudden

you don't like them back!!! that's the truth!!! but the problem is that you aLWAYS feel guilty letting people down

you obviously don't have the obligation to like someone back just because you sit next to them in class :// IT'S JUST IN YOUR NATURE TO FEEL THAT WAY

you wouldn't get into a relationship with said confessor to ease your guilt, clearly

do you plan on denying their advances? yes

but hOW????

you always take the passive-aggressive approach

you get jungkook to carry your bag and hold your hand, walk in front of said person and pretend not to see them, jungkook makes sURE to put some snide eye contact in there aaaaand the whole ordeal is finished :D

you've managed to let someone down slowly without having to speak to them in-person!!!

jungkook comes more handy than that too

you take him when you want to eat out because you're too anxious to eat alone

you take him when you want to go somewhere in which lining up is essential and you're also too anxious to stand by yourself

you take him when you want to go shopping when there's a sale but you're almost always intimidated by the barrage of people and salespeople so he asks and answers the questions for you

jungkook, in hindsight, is the perfect fake boyfriend for you <3

ALSO jungkook wants something from you

"whore me out to the girls from the families your family's friends with, and it's a deal :D"

that alliance and exchange is going pretty well so far

you mAY be on the more-reserved side but that doesn't mean you're self-aware!!!

you know that your parents are loaded and your shy nature could be somehow chalked to that since you didn't really have anyone that wasn't as non-superficial as you'd like, since they were the overprotective helicopter two-rotor seven-blade parents :(((

jungkook, however, is the only constant you have in your formula

you've known him since childhood and have been friends ever since

his mom's your mom's personal assistant, and one day when mrs. jeon couldn't find a babysitter for jungkook, your mom didn't hesitate to let four-year old jungkook come with her to work

jungkook's your fIRST actual friend that hates gold spoons with you because of how tacky they look :-) he's your emotional support person basically

your emotional support person who was sO close to running late from picking you up during his free day >:( you were about to break into a sprint if he arrived a second later, because you managed to spot a jock coming to you from the corner of your eye awhile ago

You Do Not Like Him <3

"and i even changed into a short-sleeved shirt to ward off your suitors. how romantic of me, don't you think?"

now that he mentions it, it's only now when you can drink him in in full-display

... wow

his right arm's the only one with his tattoos while his left's completely blank, but something about the balance just makes you !!!!!!!! even more

his arm's not completely covered but it was coming to be, something about the blank spaces of skin that are yet to be inked being a nice touch

"very romantic, kook."

now tHAT'S the answer he wanted to hear

he forcibly on your helmet for you to showcase, your grunts of annoyance being drowned out by whistling

(he's even looking left and right and making eye contact with anyone who has their eyes landing on you!!!!)

your cheeks smushed is a look he'll never be tired being in awe of, but he'll never tell you that, of course

"do you ever wonder if your parents would kill me if i misplace even a single hair on you?" jungkook thinks out loud and you don't even flinch with how sudden his thoughts could be, sitting on his seat first so it'd already be balanced when you do, "you sure you’re okay riding with me?? on a motorcycle????"

he usually uses yOUR family's vehicles (they let him and insisted he just takes one at this point) but when you called him, he was en route to kim kradle (it's a one-stop vehicle shop apparently) to get new rims for his motorcycle, bUT NOT ANYMORE HE GUESSES????

you come first compared to the booking he's waited on for three weeks

"i have insurance, i think."

no that's the wrong answer

why did you even bother.,,.,

jungkook flicks your nose because your forehead's protected by the helmet, his face contorted in half faux frustration

"you were supposed to be mad at me for asking that — not logical!! don't even joke about that."

"... my life insurance? like, in the instance that i-"

oW THAT HURT

he flicked even harder this time!!!

you roll your eyes at him and it doesn't go unnoticed, a hand outstretching instead of his fingers flexing

“wallet, please.”

????

jungkook's surprised that you even look confused, this time rolling his eyes at you

“you rolled your eyes at me. you need to bribe me so i won’t rat you out.”

right

he has a never-ending knack for the you're rich jokes

you also know that he likes the cold and would turn the fan on even if it's too hot for a blanket, just because he wants to feel cocooned

you also know that he picks from the fourth row of drinks from the front because it's always been a habit

("the germs cling on to the first row!!!")

you also know that maybe, just maybe, you can't stand it tonight when he's putting himself out there instead of being your faux boyfriend

you keep on zoning out and hoseok, perhaps the only tolerable fellow rich kid you can tolerate within your circle, finally connects the dots in his head and snickers

he's been talking about finding the vintage sneakers he's always wanted on depop and how he almost got scammed for like tWENTY minutes already

in reality, all your nods and scowls aren't towards his story

it's to jungkook and... who's that? jihye whose dad is so colossally shitty, that this one rapper wrote a diss song for him? oh yeah, that jihye

"you like him. like actually 'lose your virginity to him' love him."

WHAT???

there's no way

"how did you-"

"you blush like one."

alright that answer was too quick

hoseok should've ATLEAST tried to wait for a few seconds before answering

"a-and the love part?"

"babe, jungkook may not be the richest one here and that should say a lot," you peer up at him nervously and he actually chuckles, peering to everyone at this function, "dude's humble — he could also just be dense to not see you love him."

okay very true

hobi's making a dig rn at how jungkook coinicidentaally happens to be blonde and maybe this is your cue to leave

hobi does not realize that his hair is aLSO dyed blonde while talking shit about jungkook and his hari

okay this is it

once again, you are NOT listening to hoseok and he's figured out what you're doing by now

you're psyching yourself up with a couple of shots and your heels are digging on the carpeted ballroom

MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY TO BE MORE OUTGOING!!

"pretend to wobble. it doesn't help that nothing can sink you."

oh okay makes sense

if you're gonna try and charm jungkook while trying to play it off as just being tipsy playfulness, atleast make it believable

hoseok snickers because this is just A+ content with the things that you choose to do in your way

shy girl with high alcohol tolerance mannn coming of age film writers would LOVE you ://

you're about to cross the distance between you and jungkook, but something knocks you on your shoulder with a gentle force that seemed intentional

is that-

hold on a second

"what a coincidence :O"

jimin?

jimin???

as in, wholesome yet slightly fuckboy-ish frat guy jimin???

he looks dashing and composed, meeting your eyes perfectly and he doesn't let your confusion startle him

"i know that look. what am i doing here?"

he says it eloquently as if he's practiced it

AND HE DID!!!

you must've looked so shocked that you immediately apologized, shaking your head no

"i-i didn’t mean-..."

you're confused, sure, but that doesn't mean you're immediately judging

it's just that you never saw jimin here or any function of the like, but you wouldn't put it past him if he does go to these things!!! he looks like a million dollars anyways

"relax, doll. you’re so far the only other person i know that i've seen in these type of things."

he looks calm and collected, but maybe that's just because he spent the last five minutes waiting for you to stand so he could bump into you

this place is just sO suffocating and a familiar face is gonna be his relief from something so fancy that it became mundane

"have we been in the same event before this?"

"not that i recall, no. i get invited but this is only the first time after awhile that i went."

jimin drinks from his champagne flute, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, "wanna know why i'm here?"

you're curious!!! what can you say!!!!

you never really interacted with jimin at all before this, but a familiar face like his is comforting

because hoseok's already engaged in another conversation and jungkook's,,,, being jungkook and is fawning all over jihye

jimin chuckles at your insistent nodding, leaning closer to whisper to your ear

"my stepdad’s loaded as fuck."

oh so that's why

he tugs you down to sit at the nearest possible empty chairs, all its occupants gone anyways because they're in the dancefloor busting tRULY horrendous moves

maybe it's because jimin feels lonely too like you are, and it's him feeling comfortable because he's pulled you like ten seconds ago and not once asked him anything out of bounds

maybe that's why he fell into conversation with you easily because you're always intently listening

"might love me as a real son too. maybe that’s a bonus? you don’t really expect that shit in the things you see."

this situation is actually pretty cute

you snort because maybe you’re nOT that shy when you drink,, that’s the only thing that changes in you probably

this whole conversation that sprung from boredom was unknowingly the subject of many stares, including jungkook who you were initially supposed to go to

“you’re worthy of love, jimin.”

:O

jimin sPITS his drink because where the fuck did THAT come from???

why did you say that and why does he feel that he needed to hear that

“i-i think — i think you need more,” he raises his own glass to your lips hurriedly, caught in surprise but you still gulp nonetheless

“you’re-“ you keep sputtering as he keeps making you drink, but he rubs circles on your back at the same time and it's when you realize that jimin the frat guy may not be that bad, “what??? don’t think you’re not the only one with daddy issues! shouldn’t we have like, a radar for each other?”

jimin snorts at your counter and his eyes crinkle to the point where he can't see anything, not being able to see how you're still trying to recover with all that fizz down your throat

wow ur really enjoyable to talk to

“you’re insane and i think-“

listen

you're not really big on feeling beyond a sense and all that stuff, but you feel as if the aura around you just got dark all of a sudden

"who are you calling insane?"

jungkook appears at your side in an instant, hands wrapped around your shoulders while you remain seated

you've honestly forgotten that you were supposed to go to jungkook, but you're reminded of that vERY clearly now

"go away, jimin," he mutters through his teeth, looking at him dead in the eye

hold on

wait

THAT'S JIMIN???

okay now he's confused

sometimes jungkook's mouth just moves on its own without loading the thought process

"why are YOU here?"

jimin furrows his brows, shocked that he'd even see jungkook here out of all people

the guy barely even attends classes!!! and that's coming from him!!

"why’s he here?"

he crouches to your ear, eyes still furrowed at the younger guy

"long story."

nO???

jungkook scowls bitterly because jesus fuck

YOU’RE ON WHISPERING TERMS NOW????

he left for one second, and the moment he comes back, that's when this fucking frat guy approaches you?? was he waiting on him to leave??

you and jungkook only act as a couple when the need arises, and even if you don't feel it, hE feels that this is the need!!! this is the need and it is arising!!!

"get back to uh, alpha bravo charlie or something, park. beat it."

why’s he reciting the nato phonetic alphabet???

jungkook sounds half-angry and half-sad at the same time, and you don't know which side should you focus on

“move,” he repeats this time again but more sternly, making jimin much more confused since jungkook's trying to pull him away from his seat

jimin doesn't budge and it makes the frown even more evident in jungkook's face

what is he FEELING

“can’t you tell that i really don’t want you to be here?”

“i’m not here for you, though. i’m here for y/n.”

he answers honestly, shis gut telling him that there's definitely something going on between the two of you

“y/n doesn’t want you here," kook argues back surely, only noticing your bitten lips now that makes him realize that you're not exactly sober; just a happy kind of rush

he sees you raise your hand timidly, an equally cheeky smile on your face that's only directed to jungkook like it's meant for him

"i-i actually don’t mind."

you don't,,,

you don't mind?

HOW'S THAT POSSIBLE

WHAT ARE YOU DOING

why aren't you signaling him to commence the faux boyfriend act!!

"y/n has a boyfriend."

“... i’m not hitting on her.”

alright this is more than the entertainment that jimin wished for lol

“yeah, well she has a boyfriend still so beat it.”

you do??

the last time you checked, jihye's gonna have jungkook as her boyfriend within the night!!

“i don-“

ALRIGHT THEN

jimin decides to indulge jungkook, knocking his knee with yours as he winks slyly, urging you silently to watch on, turning to look at you and ask

“what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

you don't answer.

that gives him all the more reason to do so.

“last name, jeon.”

jungkook looks the most determined you've ever seen him, eyes characteristically angry with his arms across his chest that his suit tightens, “first name, me.”

....

......

the three of you know that’s not the truth

jimin takes it in, sighing when he sense that something else is about to be unfold and he does noT want to be a part of it

not before whispering to your ear again for the last time, of course

“pretty weird name if you ask me,” you laugh automatically, momentarily forgetting that jungkook's standing by you on just your opposite side and could hear you

he leaves and that only leaves you with jungkook, looking up at him as he's too frantic to even sit

“what are you doing?”

“being a social butterfly," you quip just as fast, drinking your water afterwards

jungkook only clenches his jaw by then, being taken-aback when you speak again

“who are you doing?”

://

“i’m busy being mad at- wait a minute, WHO???”

who instead of what??

the short-lived enthusiasm you had with jimin left with him, crashing just as hard when you're reminded of jungkook's presence

“jihye’s a pretty nice girl. you should go home early tonight.”

his brows furrow, trying to get you to look at him but you avoid his gaze insistently, “what? what are you talking about?”

“she’s not my girlfriend though.”

you're not at all satisfied with the answer because it sounds so wrong, knowing that jungkook's a handsome guy and everyone wants to be with him!!!

and he probably wants to be with everyone else besides you.

“then who-...”

“don’t know yourself anymore? jimin must’ve really swept you off your feet, huh?”

jungkook huffs as he qualifies for a rebutt, your internal wallowing being cut short

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

...

....

“well would you look at that,” jungkook snickers, sighing through his nose as your eyes finally meet his, directly stubborn yet soft around the edges

“she’s not my girlfriend, and he’s not your boyfriend. what a coincidence.”

god did he feel so threatened the moment his eyes couldn't find you besides hobi and instead next to jimin, eyes crinkled in laughter without hesitation

have you been chasing after one another this whole time?

jungkook silently grabs you by the hand and you wave no opposition to it

maybe it's your liquor-influenced vision or maybe it's you hyperfixating on such a warm moment, but your eyes immediately lock to see the matching red thread bracelet he wore like yours

you're dressed in next year's spring collection line, and the structured silk black gown that has a train behind it doesn't exactly scream to have a simple red thread bracelet as its accessory according to your mom's designer and everyone else —

but you don't have the heart to take it off

there's no need to take it off

jungkook drives your car and no one says a single thing about anything

his hand’s on your thigh and you don’t question it, eyes locking into the way his hand looks perfect and the way the bracelet looks meant to be wrapped in his wrist in the first place

you're sure this time that it's not the newfound courage you have, but rather the need to do it

you kiss jungkook's cheek on a red light.

it's on a red light that jungkook realizes he could fit the visage of his world within one hand, finally kissing you like he's always wanted to

“yeah. what a coincidence.”

[lyjikyu]

        A FRIENDSHIP BLOSSOMED ★ 준규

✧.. . grammar & spelling errors!, fluff, strangers to friends??

playing.. . ❍ vivaldi variation by florian christl [slowed]

it was late at night and you can hear the loud sound of the heavy rain along with the thunders from inside of the academia. but most prominently the faint sound of someone playing the piano. as you take light steps down the stairs, the music starts to become much more intelligible. you can tell it was coming from the music room but who would be awake in this time of the night? and more on, who would have the keys to open the music room?

as you approach the door, you take a deep breathe before opening it slightly in a quiet and steady manner. you take a peak from the small gap and you can faintly see the face of the unfamiliar boy. you continue to examine his face but you start to hear footsteps echo near the hallway you were in and you—being an anxious person and having no choice step inside the room, locking the door behind you. the unfamiliar boy stops and looks at you, dazed. “how long have you've be-” you shush him cutting him off and point towards the door behind you. “someone's coming and it might be one of our professors.” you whisper and he becomes alert as he gets off the chair crouching down and moving to you.

“do you think were gonna get caught?” he asks as you lean at the door, slowly sliding down to sit at the floor. “ don't know?! but apparently you're brave enough to play the piano at 2 in the damn morning?!” you call him out and he gives you a shy, awkward grin while scratching the back of his neck as he looks away. sighing you hug both your legs—as you rest your chin on your knees. “well to be fair, I was bold enough to sneak out of my dorm to investigate who was playing the piano.” he turns his head back to look at you, intrigued.

“was it that loud?” you shrug, unsure of what to tell him. “well.. uh we might be here for a while so I might as well introduce myself to you. my name is kim junkyu, you can call me junkyu. and you are?” he extends his hand out with a smile on his face. you glance down to his hand and up to his face before taking his hand, gladly. “y/n, nice to meet you junkyu. I don't really recall seeing your face before though.”

“oh well that's because I'm from the other building.” you let out an oh while nodding your head. “so why come here then? I mean I'm pretty sure there's also a music room at the other building.” “well mhh,, its barricaded and nothing's inside because their renewing it.” he says as you watch his hand gesture randomly while he speaks. “oh is that so? if you don't mind me asking, is this your first time sneaking out? and how did you get the keys?” you ask and junkyu lets out a soft chukcle. “no not really, its actually my second time. I just do this when I can't fall asleep. also the keys? I just have my ways. also uh.. do you maybe want to hangout tomorrow? somewhere where it isn't the music room.”

“ways huh? but yeah sure, why not! how does the library sound like? maybe we could meet at the afternoon?”

“sweet! IM DOWN!”

“shhh keep it down will you?”

“oh right,, im sorry”

oh GOD, its been awhile. my reason? school work and stupid writer's block 😑. I hope everyone liked this either wayyy <33

TREASURE MASTERLIST

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Hi, I'm a big fan.

I love your writing. I LOVE it. I am so ridiculously invested in it like I re-read all the time all your works like...it's just perfect.

Question regarding Speak Your Name fic (I read it on the link you shared, sooo good tf)

Why didn't he say ily back 😭 i was so fcking hurt when the series ended and he still didn't say it at the end. Pllsssssss tell me when he says ily back to her I can't go on like this i need him to say it back so badly :(

Ommigod thank you SO MUCH, anon! This made my night, for real. Please feel free to DM me here or on discord or anywhere else you can find me, I promise there’s nothing writers love more than to hear from those who love their work.

Oh dear, it seems I left things on a bit of a cliffhanger with that one, huh?

So, first, few things for the people who aren’t privy already: anon is talking about what is arguably my favorite RPF I have, the full title of which is If I Dare Speak Your Name, and if anyone can guess what song the title is taken from, bonus points for you. For those of you who aren’t aware, when I write, I wait until the fic is done until I post it here on tumblr and AO3 (with the exception of Title of Your Sex Tape, which I started posting even though it’s a WIP but that was by popular request), but because I still need validation, I post to Wattpad as I publish but Wattpad doesn’t get respect or anything, I don’t usually bother updating the chapters after I edit them. I’m guessing anon I’d talking about that.

Okay, anon, so lemme explain. First and foremost, I want to emphasize this: Speak Your Name is not done. It’s likely to be a fairly long fic, and I have a great deal left planned. When a fic is done, it’ll be marked as such on Wattpad and, most importantly, will be uploaded here and on AO3. I do go awhile in between updates, which is why I have the “no posting on Tumblr or AO3 till it’s done” rule.

Now to answer your question about the latest chapter. If you’ll recall, Tim is on a trip with his girlfriend-by-force, Roxie. It’s implied in the chapter that Roxie woke up from having been asleep and Tim had to 1) pretend he wasn’t on the phone with a girl he loves and 2) hang up immediately. That’s why he didn’t say it back. It’s not that he didn’t want to or that he didn’t feel it. Anything I write will always have a happy ending. I’m a firm believer in the babies ever after trope, so if things aren’t wrapped up with a nice bow with marriage and babies either already present or on the horizon, it’s not done. Everything I write will always have a happily ever after, that’s a guarantee.

I realize it’s been a hot minute since I’ve had another chapter for it, and I apologize for that. I have a very good reason, I promise. As I’ve said before, until last quote literally night, I was hard at work on my submission for the Dune Mini Bang, which is now done minus the editing, so expect more soon!

Thank you again for your ask! 💗

[writtenbynightlock]

Hi! Idk of request are open rn.. but could you do a hinata x reader angst? Where hinata walks in on kageyama and y/n in a position where it looks like they were cheating. But in reality it was nothing like that at all! So hinata gets very mad and says really hurtful things to them. Then word gets around school and people start to bully y/n and kags. However hinata doesn’t care. He never stood up for y/n. Then due to bullying going to far y/n loves school. That’s when y/ns best friend yams goes up to hinata and shows him the video where in fact they were not cheating. But it’s too late. Hinat already lost her. Sorry if the request is too long btw!!

Misunderstanding | Hinata Shouyou x Reader

Note: Requests are open 💌 Please be informed here

Masterlist

Warning: Timeskip spoilers

Tagging: @shoyosbitchh (thanks for the request love)

“Do I really have to do this?”

“Yes” you answer as you fix Kageyama’s jersey jacket. 

“What am I gonna do again?” 

“All you have to do is answer my questions. After this segment, I will film you in action with Shoyo. Are we ready, Yama-kun?”

You ask your classmate and the captain of the Karasuno Men’s Volleyball Team, Yamaguchi Tadashi, waiting for his go signal as he was in charge of the camera. You were in your third year in Karasuno High. You are an active member of the journalism club and your specialty is sports writing. You and Hinata have been together since your second year. It all started when you’ve done a coverage of the Karasuno High Men’s Volleyball team ever since the crows were finally taking flight in the Nationals. Pretty much to say you are close with your batchmates involved with the sport which made your job a bit easier. 

You were currently working on a special ad for the team that will be on air in the campus as a way to show support and acknowledgement to the seniors who will be having one last fight --- Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei, Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shoyou. In thanks to the manager, you will be also adding a special segment to the woman who’s always been there with the crows, Yachi Hitoka.  

“Camera is rolling in 3..2..1..”

As Yamaguchi gestures for you to start, you have him a small nod and put on your game face on. 

“Hello Karasuno High! The much anticipated Spring Interhigh tournament is fast approaching and our crows will be taking flight once again. With the excitement to the world of volleyball, our players have quite gained quite a few fans. Here I am with the famous King of the Court, the Karasuno Men’s Volleyball Setter, Kageyama Tobio.” 

During the interview segment, things went smoothly due to Kageyama being straightforward with his questions much to your relief. You were glad Yamaguchi was also there to help you. Usually, Yachi is the one who helps you with your journalism when it comes to the team but she had a meeting with Takeda sensei, explaining her absence. 

After the interview, it was time for you to do the final segment which was  getting to film the iconic duo in action. You told Kageyama to change into his volleyball uniform, with the setter obediently following your instruction. 

“Thank you so much for helping me, Yama-kun. Your segment yesterday with Tsukki is great too! I’m very excited to edit it.”

Yamaguchi blushed at your compliment, making him scratch the back of his head in a shy manner. 

“You’re really making it hard for us to graduate, (Y/N)-san. This will be your last feature too, is it not?” 

“Yup” 

Yamaguchi smiles as he saw the gleeful expression on your face. He admired your determination in making the video possible as a tribute to them. Yamaguchi’s sense of determination in leading the team to Nationals has boosted but there was one question bugging in his head.

“(Y/N)-kun, you are a sports writer, right? I don’t recall them doing this extent.”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at Yamaguchi, giving him a sincere smile --- your mind instantly filled with the ray of sunshine that is currently in your life. 

“You don’t know how proud I am on how far you all have come. You five were part of the flightless crows who worked hard to spread its wings again. You were there when people would underestimate the team but you all proved them wrong, along with our seniors who graduated also. We all keep moving forward and now, you are your juniors senpais, helping them keeping the crows to keep flying. Not only that, I am so proud of Shoyo. He’s one of the main reasons why I’m motivated to do this. I’m always here to support Shoyo and to all of you --- no matter where we go after we graduate.”

After your speech, your eyes widened as you Yamaguchi’s eyes were watery and he was sniffling, making you panic a little.

“Y-Yams, are you okay?”

“Don’t look at me, (Y/N)-kun! That was so beautiful- wait I’ll be right back!” says Yamaguchi as he hurriedly went to the nearest bathroom --- not wanting for you to see him bawl his eyes out. With a soft chuckle, you turned around to see Kageyema already in his attire and was now setting up the net. Deciding to help, you went to him and gave him a hand.

“What do you need?”

“Could you hand me that screw over there?”

With a nod, you went to the tool box, grabbing the screws Kageyama.

“Do you think Shoyo will go far with volleyball?”

You ask out of the blue, avoiding eye contact with Kageyama as you just stared at the net. It’s not that you doubt Shoyo’s skills but it is a scary world out there. There will be people who will look down on him for different reasons. You just worry. You care for him so much. You admired how Hinata was able to use the mean comments against him as his motivation for him to improve his skills. His positivity and bubbly personality is contagious. He never fails to make you smile when you’re feeling down. 

As Kageyama finished the net, he gave you a smirk. 

“If that dumbass doesn’t slack, he will. If he does, I’m definitely getting ahead of him.”

A grin made its way on your face. What more could you expect from Hinata’s partner in the court?

As the two of you waited for Hinata and Yamaguchi to come, you and Kageyama had talked a bit about college plans. As the two of you converse, you suddenly noticed something crawling on Kageyama’s jersey shirt. 

“Kageyama-kun, there’s something on your shoulder” you say, pointing at it. At first Kageyama was confused to what you meant but when he finally took a look at it, it was spider --- making his eyes widen and panic, letting out a manly shriek. 

Kageyama was all over the place, jumping and swatting it away --- to the point where he tried to take the shirt off. 

“Kageyama, calm down!”

“It’s on your head!”

“It’s back on your shirt!”

Kageyama felt chills, the hairs on his skin rising as he felt it crawling the back of his neck. The next thing you knew, with Kageyama’s head covered with the shirt that was taken off midway his arms, the setter stumbled onto you, making the both of you fall on the ground with Kageyama on top. Your eyes widen at how close your and Kageyama’s faces are, the setter not able to take in what just happened. 

“Get off!”

“Can you help me put my shirt back on? I-if you don’t mind. My hands are sort of restricted” says Kageyama, pointing out that his arms were trapped in the sleeve holes. You sigh and grabbed the hem of his jersey shirt, attempting to pull it down back but the both of you suddenly heard the gym doors open.

“(Y/N)?!” 

Hearing an all too familiar voice, you quickly shove Kageyama off of you, sitting up from your spot to see Hinata who froze by the gym doors as he stares at you and Kageyama with wide eyes, his heart beating so fast in his chest.

“W-were you cheating on me?!”

“No baby! It was just an accident-”

“An accident?! It looked like you were taking off his shirt! I can’t believe you’re cheating on me with Bakageyama!”

“No, Shoyo! It definitely doesn’t look what it looks like at all!”

“I trusted you, (Y/N)!”

Tears were starting to form in your eyes, getting a bit angry and frustrated that Hinata wasn’t letting you explain your side. Kageyama noticed this and decided to step in --- defending the both of you.

“Boke, Hinata, boke! Why would I even do that to your girlfriend?! Let us explain what happen-”

“No! I’m so hurt, (Y/N)-chan! You’re the first girl ever that made me really happy but this is how you treat me? Is it because I’m not tall enough?! Is this how you repay my loyalty to you? You’re so heartless! You seem so faithful to me but behind my back, you’re a different person.”

“S-Shoyo-”

“Don’t call me that anymore. I don’t want to see you anymore. We’re done.” 

With that, Hinata left the gym, leaving you and Kageyama all alone. You wanted to run after him but you lost your strength and collapsed on the floor, your gaze lingering at the gym doors, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

Kageyama panicked a little, not knowing how to comfort you but he just stood beside you and patted your head as you were hugging your figure, too hurt by Hinata’s words. 

“That dumbass doesn’t know how to listen.”

“What am I gonna do, Kageyama-kun?”

Kageyama glances at you, a frown on his face. He knows how much you care for Hinata. He can’t help but feel frustrated also being in your position. He also felt bad to what just happened. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize, Kageyama. You did nothing wrong. Hinata just misunderstood.” 

“That runt will regret for letting you go. I mean, who else could keep up with him?”

As you wiped your tears, you stood up and grabbed your things, heading towards the gym doors.

“I think we’ll call it a day. I’ll message Yams that our filming is finished. I’ll just ask another sports writer to cover you and Hinata’s segment. I don’t think I can face him for awhile.”

Kageyama frowns as he saw your eyes tearing up again but he just nodded, not wanting to press any buttons even further.

“Okay. Get home safely.”

With a sigh, you left the gym heading home, feeling all too drained and hurt. You can’t believe Hinata was able to say those hurtful words to you. In attempts on calling him while walking home, you let out a frustrated groan as he already blocked your number. 

“Oh Shoyo. It was all just a misunderstanding.” 

Days had passed ever since the incident and break up with Hinata. Word got around fast. You and Kageyama had been the talk of the town as cheaters, making you lose your appetite. People were sending you dirty stares for even daring to cheat on such a pure soul. 

There was one time when you ate at the school cafeteria with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima and a group of girls suddenly went to your table, snickering at you and called you a slut. Between Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, it was Yamaguchi who was full on beast mode, defending you. 

“Don’t waste your time with these fools, Yamaguchi. They just don’t know how to mind their own business” says Tsukishima as he shakes his head in annoyance. You told Yachi, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima the whole thing. Yachi felt really bad at what happened. She was the one also who keeps comforting Hinata. Tsukishima was in charge of breaking apart Kageyama and Hinata whenever the two started to argue, much to his dismay but he just wants the team to be peaceful and focus on their practices and official games. 

Not wanting to eat anymore, you grab your bag and stood up, making Yamaguchi and Tsukishima look at you with worry. 

“Where are you going, (Y/N)-san?” 

“I’m just gonna go get a breather. I’m not that hungry anyway. See you later” you say with a solemn look on your face then left the cafeteria. 

“What are we gonna do, Tsukki?”

“I don’t know. Don’t involve me in their quarrels. It’s tiring.”

Yamaguchi sighs but then he remembers that he left his camera in the gyms while he was in the bathroom. When he returned to the gym, his camera was already battery drained. In hopes to resolve this mess, Yamaguchi checks the contents to see of the camera was still rolling. Much to his relief, it apparently recorded the whole thing. He immediately showed this to Hinata, finally clearing all the misunderstanding.   

Hinata regretted on how he acted. He felt his heart breaking even more. He needs to apologize for his wrong doings but it was too late. The twinkle in your eyes as you see him weren’t there anymore. His words really hurt you and you’ll have a difficult time in trusting him again. The bullying around the school made you feel even more damaged.

You told Hinata its best to cool off from the relationship. You needed space. You need to focus on yourself now. You just wanted to forget the words that come out from his mouth.

It was over.

Hinata Shoyo. You were my sunshine, my only sunshine. You made me happy when skies are gray --- but now, the skies weep with me.