#and i made an impulsive decision that i wanted to sign up for two songs bc one of them is glowsticking/stringing and one is

[devox2564]

In Your Heart

Jake Kizka x fem reader

Chapter 3: On The Road

You find yourself again on a stage. So far removed from that night in the bar when the Kizka twins brought Toby in to watch you perform. Although not incredibly different. The bright lights shine down on you as you work the guitar into a rhythm. You can feel sweat begin to form on your brow. Even after a few months, the experience is still exhilarating. 

Center stage stands Tabby, her tanned skin almost glows on stage and her voice resonates through the room. You were surprised to find upon meeting the band that Wolfsbanes front woman was a girl she'd been playing with for years. The bassist Anika was quiet but incredibly talented, and the drummer Liz gave the group an energy you'd never felt before. Performing with the three of them was effortless. 

The label had decided on a regional tour of the South. You've been in Georgia for about two weeks already but tonight's show has landed you in Savannah. It's been your favorite so far. As the last few bars of the last song ring out into the cool night air, you breathe in and feel your skin tingle. You smile out into the audience and take a bow with your bandmates. Tabby yells out "We are Wolfsbane. You've been wonderful Savannah! Good Night!"

Taking another bow, the four of you exit the stage. It doesn't take long before you are sprawled out on the bed back at the hotel. The view from the window overlooks the river and the street below. You close your eyes and savor in the afterglow of another successful performance. Suddenly your phone blares and vibrates on the bed next to you. David. Ugh. You answer. 

"Hey" he says shortly.

"Hi" you can sense the tension in his voice. 

"When are you coming home?" 

"I told you yesterday that we'll be back in about two weeks." you are annoyed "asking every day isn't going to get me back faster."

"Well I can't really be supportive of something I don't think is smart for you." he says sharply.

"You've made it clear since I signed that you aren't supportive of my career." your tone is cold.

There's a long pause and you hear his breath over the phone. That night, when you came home and told him excitedly that you would be touring with a real band, he was less than thrilled. David was always so practical. He wanted to get married. He wanted to get married, and have a stay at home wife and babies. It just wasn't a life you were ready for. At 24, there was just too much life to live for you to consider settling down. Marriage would be fine, as long as he was supportive of your career. This wasn't looking like it was going to pan out. You let loose a long sigh into the silence. 

"Let's get married." he says out of the blue, his tone false and bright.

"Wh- what. What David?" you're shocked. 

"You heard me, let's get married." his voice is upbeat, as though his request has solved the whole issue. "We'll get married and then you won't have to work like this. Not that you have to right now. I want to support you and have a family."

"David you know I love music. It's not about money for me." the exasperation is seeping into your voice. "You know what. We'll talk about it when I get home. I love you."

David does not reply. He just hangs up. You can almost see him in your minds eye mussing up his short blonde hair, brows furrowing with anger. David is bold and unpredictable. That's what you've always admired about him. He was fun. Over the span of the relationship the qualities that originally attracted you to him have soured. He angered easily, he was taken to making decisions on a dime, and he had zero impulse control. His light, soft features have sharp edges and shadows in your mind. 

You lay your phone back next to you on the bed. Just as you do, Tabby enters the room and flops down next to you. 

"David again?" she asks. Tabby can read you like a book. 

"How'd you know?" you reply with a snort.

"You get all wistful looking and shit when he calls. Like you're a million miles away." 

You give it a couple beats before you say anything to this. "He wants to get married."

"You're kidding right?" Tabby is holding back giggles. 

"I'm totally not kidding. He only wants to get married because he thinks I'll quit working." 

"There's no way-" Tabby is interrupted by the ringing of your phone.

You pick it up off the bed again and you're surprised to see that it's Jake. Tabby raises her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "Don't say a fucking word" you tell her trying not to laugh. She's been on you to go after Jake since she found out he's the one who recommended you. But he's got a girlfriend. And you still have a boyfriend. Crossing that line just isn't in the cards.

You answer the phone with a light "Hello?"

"Hello yourself love." you can hear the grin in his voice. As well as a considerable din behind him.

"Where the hell are you? I can barely hear you." you reply.

"Try Savannah babe." He sounds drunk. "We're barhopping tonight and I hear Wolfsbane is in town."

"Indeed we are." you steel a glance at Tabby who is grinning like an idiot. 

"We'll meet you at your hotel. Hit the rooftops." 

"It's a plan." you say and hang up.

.....

Tabby elbows you as Jake approaches with his brother in tow. You shoot her an icy look out of the corner of your eye. She giggles. 

"Dahhhling" Jake drawls as he pulls you into a tight hug. The British accent seems to be a side effect of the liquor. He smells like he's been dunked in a barrel of whiskey. 

 "How much has he had?" you ask over his shoulder. 

"Enough to kill a horse." Josh replies with a hiccup and a toothy smile. 

The four of you make your way down the street towards a string of bars. You end up on a rooftop, neon all around and a beautiful view of the river. Music booms from speakers and you sit on a plush sofa, sipping and watching the bar patrons move amongst one another. 

Josh approaches the group, small glasses of clear liquor in tow. 

You grab one and bring it to your lips. Vodka. It burns all the way down. 

Before you can recover, your phone rings. You look down, and it's David. Again. Sighing, you rise from your seat and head over to the roof's edge. You bring the phone to your ear. 

"David?" you hope he can hear you over the music.

"Who is this?" a female voice answers you.

"Umm, who is this?" you're a bit startled.

"This is David's girlfriend Jen. I want to know who this is. Your number is in his phone under "sister" but there are photos between you two that suggest otherwise. So who are you?" Jen is apparently under the impression that her boyfriend David is cheating. 

"How long have you two been together?" your voice begins to quaver.

"Two years. As if that matters to you." Jen replies coldly.

You hang up without saying another word. You are.. beyond confused. Beyond hurt. Tears prick the corners of your eyes. They sting as they begin to run down your cheeks. Bracing your elbows on the roofs edge, you bury your head in your hands and let them fall. It's as though time has stopped around you. All two years of your relationship have been a lie. Whenever he wasn't with you he was with her. You wonder what she must look like. Was she tall, blonde, thin? Was she ready for a life of pilates classes, coffees, and missionary sex 2.5 times a month? Everything you weren't ready for. Through your tears, you manage to send a text. 

Y/n: Have your shit out of my place by the time I get back. I hope you and Jen are very happy together. 

Bubbles appear in the corner of the screen and you power down your phone. You'd prefer not to hear from David ever again. The wind from the moving water cools your face and your tears continue to flow as you look out into the night. A hand gently touches your arm and you turn your head. Jake looks a bit stunned as he sees the tears glistening in your eyes. You can tell that he's still drunk, but his sudden concern seems to have sobered him a bit. 

" What's wrong dahling?" still British, and with a small smile. It's a halfhearted effort to lighten the mood, and it fails. You try to hold back a fresh wave of tears. His smile falls and he looks at you softly before pulling you into his arms. 

"Really. What's wrong?" he asks resting his chin on top of your head. Now he's back to normal Jake. A great sign that the alcohol is wearing off a bit. 

You let a few moments pass, allowing yourself to calm slightly. Stepping away from him you lean your arms back onto the edge of the roof. "David's been keeping another girlfriend this whole time. We were just introduced over the phone. " your tone is bitter and you glance back at him. The tears are ebbing. Your face is numb from the alcohol but you're sober enough to feel how close the two of you are right now. He moves forward and his arm snakes around your shoulders, the free forearm resting next to yours. 

"Well he's got to be an idiot for thinking you wouldn't find out eventually." his hand rubs up and down your arm gently. His touch sends tingles down your spine. You move out of his reach again. 

"Look," you say with a half hearted chuckle/sob "I know we're friends and all, but I'm not so sure that Jita would be cool with..." 

He cuts you off "Why do you think I'm drinking myself silly?"

"What?" you're a little shocked by the interruption.

"She broke it off with me last week." his voice sounds close to cracking "she got back from London and moved all her things out."

You're flipping through the rolodex of things to say in your mind when you're wrapped in another hug. "I'm really fucked up right now so just let me hug you and we can be sad together."

Your head rests perfectly against the curve of his shoulder and his arms wrap you up. Staying there for a moment, you realize that the only thing you want to do right now is forget. Fuck feeling this way about David. For now at least, while the pain is still fresh, it might be nice to get fucked up and have fun. The music hums in the background of this odd, sad scene. Pulling away a bit and looking into Jake's face you can see his eyes are glistening with tears that have yet to fall. As drunk as he is, he's not gotten drunk enough to forget his pain tonight. 

"How about we get another drink?" you ask him shakily.

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea dahhling." he replies weakly, quickly drying his eyes with the back of his hand and flashing a smile. 

.

.

.

.

.

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If you're reading this, thank you so much! Curious about what happens next? Keep an eye out for the next chapter! 

-E

[cfdisturbia]

(—) ★ spotted!! JAVI MORALES on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 40 year old looks like RYAN GUZMAN, but i don’t really see it. while  the SINGER/ACTOR  is known for being CHARMING my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be INDULGENT i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song ROJO by J. BALVIN  {he/him / male} - Sushi

BASICS

Name: Javi Ignacio Morales Nicknames/Alias: J. Morales, Iggs Face Claim: Wilmer Valderrama Age: 40 Gender: Male Sexuality: Heterosexual Date/Place of Birth: January 1, 1982 in Barcelona, Anzoátegui State, Venezuela Currently: Santa Monica, CA Nationality: American Occupation: Singer/Actor

PERSONALITY

Positives/Virtues/Skills: Persuasive:  good at persuading someone to do or believe something through reasoning or the use of temptation. Suave:  charming, confident, and elegant (typically used of a man). Determined:  having made a firm decision and being resolved not to change it. Energetic:  showing or involving great activity or vitality. Generous:  showing a readiness to give more of something, as money or time, than is strictly necessary or expected.

Flaws/Weaknesses:  Impulsive:  acting or done without forethought. Sarcastic: marked by or given to using irony in order to mock or convey contempt. Abrasive:  showing little concern for the feelings of others; harsh. Judgmental:  of or concerning the use of judgment. Possessive: demanding someone's total attention and love.

Likes Favourite colour? Red Favourite foods?  Favourite music? Reggaeton, Latin Pop, Cumbia, Bachata,  Favorite books? Fears: TBD

RELATIONSHIPS

Parents: Javier Morales (Father) Raquel Morales nee Gutierrez (Mother)

Siblings: Unnamed Morales (Younger Sister, UTP, Wanted Connection)

Children:  Acacia Morales (16-year-old Daughter) Luca Morales (13-year-old Son) Ocean Morales (7-year-old Daughter)

Other family: TBD Pets: TBD Spouse: N/A Current Partner: N/A Ex-Partners: Ex-Wife/Baby Mama #1 (Wanted Connection), Ex-Fling/Baby Mama #2 (Keira O’Malley) Co-Workers: TBD Co-Stars: TBD Friends: TBD Enemies: TBD

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Build: 5'7", 163 lbs, muscualr build Hair Colour: Dark brown Eye Colour: Dark Brown Distinguishing Marks: N/A

Accomplishments: 

Regrets: TBD

Secrets: 

HISTORY

Born in Barcelona, Anzoátegui State, Venezuela in 1982 to a Venezuelan farmer and a Colombian seamstress. He is the oldest of two kids.

His family moved to the states, Miami, Florida specifically when he was 13. His father opened a small convenient store and his mother began working for a well-known tailoring company.

His music career kicked off at 16 when he self-wrote and self-produced his first album, Comenzare. 

He was signed to a label within the next 3 years and another album was released. 

Over the next two decades, Javi would go on to release a total of 12 albums and 26 singles, several ending up on the billboard top 100s and winning several awards across various different award shows.

At 24, Javi married and a year later welcomed a daughter with his wife. Another 3 years and his son would be born. Unfortunately, with his demanding acting schedule and the stress of having a toddler and a newborn his marriage would begin to crumble and eventually end.

At 33, one of Javi’s flings wound up pregnant, giving birth to his second daughter. 

Following his divorce, Javi wound up with some major commitment issues to anything that wasn’t his career or his kids. He’s determined to be a good father, or at least the best father he can be while juggling his acting and music career.

Though he has commitment issues and prefers flings, he is known to get into relationships every now and then and when that happens he is intensely loyal but also jealous and possessive which is normally the downfall of those relationships.

RESUME

Music Career:

Comenzaré (Released, age 16)

Si Tu Quisieras 4:26 

Comenzaré 3:55

Perdóname 4:00

Tu calor 3:54

Dime Como 3:43

Yo frente al amor 3:16

Amor de una noche 3:42

Tres veces no 3:28

Me iré 3:39

Ya no sé querer 4:20

Amor Secreto (Released, age 20)

Quisiera Poder Olvidarme De Ti 4:23

Fuera De Control 3:16

Amor Secreto 3:35

Entregate 3:54

Te Vas 4:01

Tienes Que Parar 3:33

Y Ahora Como Te Olvido 4:03

Tu Puedes Salvarme 4:39

Diselo Ya 4:07

Irresistible 3:38

Me Lo Dijo El Silencio 4:40

Para Vivir 3:39

Fight The Feeling (Released, age 21)

Fight the Feeling 3:39

Secret 3:48

Turn It Up 3:33

Save Me 4:37

You Got Nothing on Me 3:16

If Only 4:35

Keep My Cool 3:13

Tell Her Tonight 4:06

Twisted 4:15

One Night Thing 3:59

I Wish 4:09

Palabras del Silencio (Released, age 26)

Quien Le Va A Decir 3:47

Llueve Por Dentro 3:58

Otro Día Sera (Desencontrandonos) 3:14

No Me Doy Por Vencido 3:58

Aunque Estes Con El 4:38

La Mentira 3:37

Lagrimas Del Mar 4:16

Todo Vuelve A Empezar 4:13

Persiguiendo El Paraiso 3:38

Todo Lo Que Tengo 3:30

Aquí Estoy Yo 4:10

Tienes Razon 4:23

No Me Doy Por Vencido (Ranchera Version) 3:55

Tierra Firme (Released, age 29)

Explícame 3:46

Respira 4:18

Dime que no 4:07

Gritar 4:09

Nunca digas siempre 4:35

Me gustas tú 3:26

Vuelve a mi lado 3:57

El anillo y la flor 3:53

Claridad 4:03

Se supone 6:32

La Familia (Released, age 31)

Sola 3:47

La Venganza 3:26

Déjate Llevar 3:11

Mil Fantasías 3:42

6 AM 4:03

Lose Control 4:54

Eras Así 3:47

What A Creation 2:29

Desnúdate 3:43

Imaginándote 3:36

Bajo La Luna 3:35

Live In Stereo 3:30

Porque Tu 2:55

Tranquila 3:20

Yo Te Lo Dije 3:41

La Familia B Sides (Released, age 32)

Ay Vamos 3:46

Sola 3:47

La Venganza 3:26

Déjate Llevar 3:11

Mil Fantasías 3:41

6 AM 4:03

Lose Control 4:54

Eras Así 3:47

What a Creation 2:28

Desnúdate 3:43

Imaginándote 3:36

Bajo la Luna 3:35

Live in Stereo 3:30

Porque Tu 2:55

Tranquila 3:20

Yo Te Lo Dije 3:40

Mami 3:07

Tú Tienes Algo 3:09

6 AM (AtellaGali Remix) 3:49

6 AM (Merengue Remix) 3:07

La venganza (Vein remix) 2:40

Vibras (Released, age 36)

Vibras 1:06

Mi gente 3:06

Ambiente 4:09

Cuando tú quieras 3:25

No es justo 4:11

Ahora 4:15

Brillo 2:40

En mí (interlude) 0:54

En mí 3:16

Peligrosa 3:22

Noches pasadas 3:43

Tu verdad 3:25

Dónde estarás 3:12

Machika 3:03

Oasis (Released, age 37)

Mojaita 3:07

Yo le llego 4:10

Cuidao por ahí 3:18

Que pretendes 3:42

La canción 4:03

Un peso 4:37

Odio 4:31

Como un bebé 3:39

Vida (Released, age 37)

Sola 3:25

Apaga la luz 3:32

Le pido al cielo 4:07

Imposible 2:44

Poco a poco 2:55

Dime que no te irás 4:21

Échame la culpa 2:53

Tanto para nada 3:50

Despacito 3:50

Más fuerte que yo 3:49

Calypso 3:20

Ahí estás tú 3:22

Despacito (Remix) 3:50

Calypso (remix) 3:05

Sola (English version) 3:24

Colores (Released, age 38)

Amarillo 2:38

Azul 3:26

Rojo 2:31

Rosa 3:10

Morado 3:21

Verde 2:23

Negro 3:02

Gris 2:57

Arcoíris 3:07

Blanco 2:26

JAVI [Deluxe Edition] (Released, age 39)

F40 2:42

Una Nota [feat. Sech] 2:51

Te Acuerdas De Mí [feat. Yandel] 1:45

In Da Getto [feat. Skrillex] 2:11

Billetes De 100 [feat. Myke Towers] 2:45

La Venganza [feat. Jhay Cortez] 4:08

Vestido 3:07

Que Locura 3:19

Bebé Que Bien Te Ves [feat. Feid] 3:47

Lo Que Dios Quiera 3:15

Si Te Atreves [feat. Zion and Lennox] 2:50

Fantasías 3:16

Pa' Guayarte [feat. Ozuna] 3:18

Ganas De Verte 2:58

Perra [feat. Tokischa] 2:38

7 De Mayo 3:30

Suerte 3:24

Querido Rio 2:32

La Familia 4:12

Qué Más Pues? [feat. Maria Becerra] 3:38

OTRO FILI [feat. Jay Wheeler] 3:23

Otra Noche Sin Ti [feat. Khalid] 3:49

Poblado (Remix) [feat. Karol G, Natan & Shander, Nicky Jam] 6:33

UN DIA (ONE DAY) [feat. Dua Lipa, Bad Bunny, Tainy] 3:53

Singles (Various Ages, All Released)

Travesuras [feat. Zion & De La Ghetto & Nicky Jam & Arcangel] 4:47

Ay Vamos (remix) [feat. Nicky Jam & French Montana] 4:56

Unforgettable (Latin Remix)[feat. French Montana & Swae Lee) 3:34

Mi Gente [feat. Beyonce & Willy William] 3:30

Mi Gente (Dillon Franci Remix) [feat. Willy William & Dillon Francis] 3:28

Sensualidad [feat. Mambo Kingz & DJ Luian & Prince Royce & Bad Bunny] 4:57

Downtown [feat. Anitta] 3:14

Bum Bum Tam Tam [feat. MC Fioti & Stefflon Don & Juan Magan] 3:34

Bonita (Remix) [feat. Nicky Jam & Wisin & Yandel & Ozuna & Jowell & Randy] 5:23

Ahora 4:16 

Dime [feat. Arcangel & De La Ghetto & Revol & Bad Bunny] 4:45

Familar [feat. Liam Payne] 3:17 

X (Spanglish Version) [feat. Nicky Jam] 2:52 

Reggaeton 2:39 

I Can’t Get Enough [feat. Selena Gomez & Benny Blanco & Tainy] 2:38 

Con Alture [feat. El Guincho & Rosalia] 2:42 

La Rebelion 2:42 

Siempre Papi Nunca Inpapi [feat. Luigi 21 Plus] 3:25 

Baila Baila Baila (Remix) [feat. Farruko & Anuel AA & Ozuna & Daddy Yankee] 3:55 

Loco Contigo [feat Tygo & DJ Snake] 3:05 

RITMO [feat. Steve Aoki & Black Eyed Peas] 3:52 

Mood (Remix) [feat 24kGoldn & Justin Bieber & Iann Dior] 3:13 

Lento [feat. Mr Eazi] 3:09 

Location [feat. Karol G & Anuel AA] 4:23 

Que Mas Pues? [feat. Maria Becerra] 3:38 

Sal y Perrea (Remix)[feat. Sech, Daddy Yankee] 3:46 

Television Career

From Dusk Till Dawn: role; Carlos Madrigal, age; 31-34

Grey’s Anatomy: role; Kyle Diax, age; 35

NCIS New Orleans: role; Nicholas Torres, age; 34-Present

NCIS Los Angeles: role; Nicholas Torres, age; 34-Present

NCIS: role; Nicholas Torres, age; 34-Present

NCIS Hawaii: role; Nicholas Torres, age; 38-Present

Movie Career to come

[sleepless-in-southlands]

hold them up to the light

Ao3

Chapter thirteen of This Predacious Song, my multidimensional big bang fic! It’s a Mumbo-centric Hermitcraft/Last Life fic heavily featuring violence, blood, trauma, and horror-like themes. It is hurt/comfort with a happy ending. Please follow the embedded title link or the ao3 link for a complete summary and list of warnings for the story as a whole

Chapter thirteen’s title from Trista Mateer

~

    Grian had left shortly after Mumbo called himself a monster, saying he had to get someone. Mumbo had assumed he was going to grab a different hermit to sit around with Mumbo, unable to keep interacting with him, until he made a second attempt at getting his communicator and saw that Grian had left the server.

    Did he need to get away from Mumbo that badly?

    Mumbo, for his part, had largely remained on his bed, aside from grabbing his communicator. His plans to server jump had flown out of the window after Grian’s visit, unable to bring himself to do that to Grian. Although, from the looks of it, Grian might have preferred if he did.

    “A monster? Wh- Mumbo, no, I said you might have thought that, not that you are that!”

    “Well, either way, you were right, weren’t you?”

    “No! I was very much not right! You’re not- you’re not a monster!”

    “Grian, I never treated Last Life like a game, not for a second. And I did the same in every death game server I’ve jumped into these past few months. As soon as I’m in, I treat it all like its real, and then I murder players without a bit of hesitation. What sort of person does that?”

    “But they’re not real. No one’s actually getting hurt. And- and if they do, they all signed up for it.”

    “And if I had hurt someone outside of those games? The amount of times I’ve unthinkingly tried to attack you, or any other hermit, and only been stopped because I don’t carry weapons… it’s not just in the games.”

    “You were spending all your time in those games! Of course you reacted the same outside of them. That’s natural. Ren’s done it, and Pearl’s done it, and Scar’s done it, and I’ve certainly done it- does that make us all monsters too?”

    “Of course not.”

    “Then why does it make you one?”

    “It’s not just that, Grian.”

    “Then what am I missing, Mumbo? What’s the secret? Where’s this monstrous recipe?”

    “It’s- it’s everywhere! Killing Bdubs, and killing Impulse, and ruining the Southlands, and all the death games, and avoiding everyone in Boatem, and scaring Xisuma, and- and- and everything!”

    “...I need to go.”

    What other reaction could Mumbo have expected? He laid it all out for Grian, past anything the builder could forgive or wave away, and he had made the smart decision to abandon Mumbo. Really, after everything Mumbo had said, everything he had done, it was no surprise Grian felt he had to leave the server to get enough distance between the two of them. Mumbo understood.

    “So, do either of you know why Grian wanted us to come here, or…?”

    “Well, he seemed off somewhere in a hurry, I figured he needed someone else to take shift watching over Mumbo.”

    “I just decided that if Grian runs up to you and yells something really loudly and also incredibly vaguely, you do it and worry about the prank you walked into afterwards.”

    The sounds of Impulse, Scar, and Pearl talking reached Mumbo before they did, Impulse holding the door for Scar to wheel in with Pearl following. Their conversation died when they realized Mumbo was awake, sitting in the center of his bed and idly fiddling with his communicator.

    “Mumbo! You’re up!” Impulse said first, smiling as the group moved to approach his bed.

    “I am, yes, hello.” Mumbo greeted somewhat awkwardly. Aside from Ren and Grian, he hadn’t had a chance to talk with any of the hermits since being brought back to the server on the cusp of permadeath, and he hadn’t exactly had a seamless chat with any of the hermits in quite a while.

    “You wouldn’t happen to know what brings us here, would you?” Scar asked, sounding brighter than he had the last time Mumbo heard him speak. “Grian was very unhelpful in explaining why we’ve all been gathered here together today.”

    Mumbo ducked his head at the question, avoiding the groups’ eyes. He was tired of lying to his friends, but telling Grian the truth had been harder than he expected. Especially when it had been followed by Grian running off with barely a word, so clearly disgusted with Mumbo there was nothing he could say.

    It was selfish, but now that Grian knew, they all would sooner rather than later. They didn’t need Mumbo to explain it to them. He could have these last few minutes where they were still willing to talk to him, be near to him. He could allow himself a few minutes of selfishness.

    Mumbo didn’t need to see the others’ faces to feel the way the other Boatem members began to frown at his silence, glancing amongst themselves. One of them likely would have spoken up if it weren’t for sudden distortion of the world to the side of the room, incomprehensible shifting of space signaling a teleportation.

    The distortion faded as Xisuma appeared in its place, admin communicator in hand. He hit a few buttons on it before he looked up, surprise visible even through his visor as he noticed the group. “Impulse, Scar, Pearl? What are you doing here? And Mumbo, how are you feeling?”

    “Just fine.” Mumbo answered after a moment of silence, realizing everyone else was waiting for him to speak before themselves.

    “Any issues with your glitch injuries?”

    Mumbo shook his head.

    Xisuma nodded once, looking somewhat satisfied with the response. “Alright then, everyone else?”

    “We’re here because Grian told us to be here.” Scar said, shrugging. “He didn’t really say why.”

    “Odd.” Xisuma checked his communicator. “Grian messaged me asking that I come here with no explanation as well. I had thought something had gone wrong with Mumbo, but seems not.”

    “Doing the same as I have been.” Mumbo confirmed, ignoring the fact that his recent state could hardly be considered not-wrong. Thankfully, everyone in the room ignored it with him.

    “Well, there must be some reason Grian wanted us here.” Pearl said, though she didn’t get the chance to expand on the thought before their group size expanded instead.

    (Distantly, Mumbo noted the first floor of Grian’s starter base was beginning to become a bit crowded. Seated on the bed, in between everyone, it was hard to see the entirety of the room. Which hadn’t been a problem until it suddenly was very much a problem.)

    The newcomer was Bdubs, pulling off an elytra as he hurried into the building. He didn’t realize how many players were there until after he had closed the door and taken a better look around the room.

    “Oh. Hey guys.” He tugged the elytra the rest of the way off, looking sheepishly at everyone in the base as he shoved it in his inventory. “I thought this might be an emergency… no one tell Iskall.”

    Impulse laughed. “Your secret’s safe with us. If it’s alright though, can I ask why you decided you needed to be here in such a hurry to get here?”

    “And can I ask if it had anything to do with Grian?” Scar tacked on.

    Bdubs raised an eyebrow. “You guys too, huh?”

    He was met with a chorus of agreements.

    “I should’ve guessed he’d be up to something.” Bdubs said lightly as he stepped further into the base, not helping with Mumbo’s developing space issue. “But I thought there might have been something with Mumbo.”

    Mumbo sighed, feeling a pinch melodramatic. “Why is that the common assumption?”

    The looks he got from the collected hermits did nothing to help his exaggerated mood. “You’re all being rather rude to the injured one, here.”

    His plight got a few laughs out of the group, which Mumbo supposed he could appreciate. He couldn’t remember the last time he had simply joked with any of the hermits. It was nice. He’d miss it.

    The silence that fell after the laughter was broken by the sounds of six different communicators rapidly buzzing at the same time, every player fetching theirs to see what the messages were.

    Grian joined the game

    InTheLittleWood joined the game

    SolidarityGaming joined the game

    “Now Grian’s getting non-hermit players too?” Xisuma wondered out loud.

    “Not just any non-hermit players.” Impulse noted, looking over towards Mumbo. “It seems Grian’s reassembled the Southlands.”

    Pearl frowned. “That still doesn’t explain why he wants us all here.”

    While the others remained confused, however, Mumbo was finally putting the pieces together. Bdubs… Impulse… Southlands… Boatem… Xisuma….

    “I think… I should go.” Mumbo muttered under his breath, startling everyone in the room as he moved to the edge of his bed and stood up. As expected, he immediately began to sway, and at least two sets of hands (too many hands) half-pushed, half-helped him settle back on the bed before he could take so much as a single step. Someone- someones?- was trying to ask him something, but all he could hear was a buzz of static and voices.

    It took a long few minutes for Mumbo to get back to processing anything, and by then Grian had returned, standing near the edge of Mumbo’s vision looking grim but determined. Jimmy stood near him, clearly hesitant about what to do. Martyn was already in front of Mumbo, crouching down and frowning as he looked Mumbo over, eyes skimming over what glitch injuries and bandages were visible.

    “Back with us, Mumbo?” Martyn asked, apparently catching the moment Mumbo managed to pull himself out of his head.

    Mumbo nodded as he looked around the room. Most of the hermits had stepped away from his bed, giving him more space, but there were still too many of them for that to reassure him entirely, too much of the room he couldn’t see with them blocking his line of sight.

    “Grian, maybe we should give Mumbo some time-”

    “No, no, I’m fine.” Mumbo cut Martyn off, turning to look tiredly at Grian. “Just… just get this over with fast, please?”

    “Oh, Mumbo, you spoon.” Grian mumbled in response, ignoring the increasing confusion from the others in the room as he walked over to stand next to Bdubs, Mumbo’s gaze following him as he went. “Bdubs, do you hate Mumbo for killing you in Last Life?”

    Bdubs’s expression shifted rapidly from perplexed to panicked. “What?! Of course not! Why would you think I did?!”

    “I don’t, I promise.” Grian told him, moving from him to stand next to Impulse instead. “Impulse? Same question.”

    “Same answer.” Impulse responded defensively, glaring at Grian. “Did you call us all here just to accuse us?”

    “I didn’t.” Grian answered Impulse the same as he did Bdubs: vaguely. If Mumbo wasn’t so busy trying to figure out what his angle was, what he was trying to do, he might have found it funny. “Collective Southlands: do any of us hate Mumbo for breaking the alliance? I, for one, do not at all.”

    Impulse still looked upset by the questioning, but his tone wasn’t angry when he said, “I don’t hate Mumbo for anything.”

    “I think it would be a bit hypocritical of me to hate Mumbo for something I helped with.” Jimmy joked weakly, adding, “And, even if it wasn't, no. I don’t hate him for the fall of the Southlands. Or anything else.”

    “I don’t hate you either, Mumbo.” Martyn said quietly, still frowning when Mumbo turned to look at him. “Is that… is that why Grian’s asking all this? Do you think we hate you?”

    Mumbo didn’t speak, only looking away again, trying to avoid everyone’s gazes. It didn’t matter. His silence was answer enough.

    “Boatem, Xisuma,” Grian started, voice quieter as well, as if now that the ‘secret’ of his questioning was out he didn’t need to try as hard to hold the group’s attention, “I think you know what I’m going to ask.”

    “Like I said. I don’t hate Mumbo for anything, Last Life related or otherwise.” Impulse.

    “Just as Impulse said. There’s nothing to hate you for, Mumbo.” Pearl.

    “After everything you did to help us? Mumbo, of course I don’t hate you.” Scar.

    “I don’t hate any of my hermits. Just worry for them.” Xisuma. Something in Mumbo’s chest tightened at still being considered a hermit.

    As everyone said their piece, Mumbo saw Grian come to crouch in front of him with Martyn in the corner of his eye.

    “See? None of us hate you, Mumbo. None of us are upset with you, or think you’re something you’re not.” Grian’s voice had quieted even more, and despite how sure he had sounded only moments ago Mumbo could now hear raw desperation in his voice, as if he didn’t know what else he could do if this didn’t work. “Please, just… just let us help you.”

    “It’s not… it’s not that simple-”

    “Yes it is.” Mumbo didn’t have the energy to turn his head anymore, only listening as Pearl cut him off. “Whatever you’ve done, or whatever you think you’ve done- we don’t hate you Mumbo. Not for this. Not for anything.”

    Pearl’s statement was supported by hums and nods Mumbo could only half-see, each and every person in the room agreeing with her, with the idea there was nothing Mumbo could say now- or ever- that would change their minds. There was no anger, no hatred, no disgust to be found in the room. No monsters.

    “Less people.” Mumbo felt like he less said the words and more breathed them, closing his eyes. “I can’t- there’s too many people.”

    Somehow, both Grian and Martyn were able to understand him, and Mumbo let the sounds of the players being asked to leave and doing so float around him. There were no complaints, no arguments. Xisuma murmuring that he’d be just outside if they needed him. 

    When Mumbo opened his eyes again, the space was nearly empty compared to how full it had been. Grian remained where he had been in front of Mumbo, with Scar sitting a short distance behind Grian. Martyn had moved, standing close enough to the door Mumbo had the suspicion he wanted to stay but wasn’t sure if he should.

    With only three other people, it was easy to see all the walls and corners of the room again, see that there was nothing and no one hiding in shadows and waiting to strike. The need to check in Hermitcraft, of all places, still made Mumbo feel foolish, but he couldn’t deny the way it made it easier to breathe again.

    “Checking for hidden attackers?” Scar asked, chuckling at Mumbo’s wide-eyed look of a response. “You’re not the only one who had a bad time after a Life game, you know. I’m well-acquainted with the shadow people.”

    “...Yeah?”

    Scar nodded. “Consequence of putting my first base in a huge, open, well-lit desert. Going from that back to visual-obstructions-everywhere Hermitcraft… well, it wasn’t fun, that’s for sure. Never going to do that again.”

    Grian glanced back at Scar. “Didn’t Magical Mountain cause the same thing?”

    “I thought what was said in the LL meetings was supposed to stay in the LL meetings.” Scar replied, though his tone was lighthearted. “But, yes, alright, shame on me. At least it was easier the second time.”

    “How did you… get over it?” Mumbo asked, wincing at his phrasing even as he said it. He found it doubtful it was something one exactly ‘got over’, but at the moment it was the only way to put it that came to mind.

    Scar didn’t seem to mind the word choice regardless. “With a lot of time, mostly. Getting used to a server where no one really wants you dead after spending so long in one that’s exactly the opposite isn’t really a fast process. But the more time that passes with no one attacking you, the better it gets.”

    “Sleepovers also help.” Grian added, good-naturedly letting the apple Scar got from his inventory at random and threw at him for the comment bounce off his shoulder.

    “Chivalry is dead.”

    “I’m right, aren’t I?”

    “That doesn’t make you nice! It’s my turn to talk to Mumbo about terrible death game things.” Scar said amusedly. “Anyways, Mumbo, as I was saying with absolutely no additional input from other sources-”

    “I’m right here.”

    “-sleepovers can also be helpful, for nights where the shadows are just a bit… too dark. Being with other people can help a lot in general.”

    “I see.” Mumbo said, fiddled with his communicator for a moment before continuing. “Thank you, Scar, I didn’t realize…”

    “That some of the other lifers might have gone through the same things you were going through?” Grian offered when Mumbo faltered on finishing the sentence, smiling a little. “I told you, Mumbo. You’re not alone in any of this.”

    Mumbo hesitated a moment before asking, “Even… thinking you’re someth- someone terrible?”

    Although he was certain everyone in the room had heard- and understood- his slip of tongue, Mumbo was thankful for the fact none of them decided to comment on it.

    “It’s rather common.” Grian admitted. “Comes a bit hand-in-hand with death games, I think.”

    “Guilt too.” Martyn spoke up from where he had taken to leaning against the wall near the door, a look Mumbo was more than familiar with briefly crossing his face. “Eh, at least in my experience.”

    “I think most lifers would agree with you, Martyn.” Grian confirmed. “Or I do, anyways.”

    “I’ll make it three.”

    Mumbo glanced between the three. “So we’re all familiar with the, er, feeling?”

    “More or less.”

    “And yet I’m the only one who ended up,” Mumbo gestured vaguely at himself as a whole, trying to keep his tone light; he wasn’t making an accusation, just an observation, “like this?”

    “We all had our own battles after the Life games.” Grian half-answered. “And, besides, we had help to lean on.”

    “After Third Life, me and Grian had, well, you, Mumbo.” Scar reminded.

    “And I had Ren, both after Third Life and to invite me to the Hermitcraft LL meetings.” Martyn chimed in.

    “Meetings that all lifers, hermit or otherwise, had access to.” Grian looked at Mumbo meaningfully. “But not all chose to attend.”

    Mumbo forced himself to not turn away and avoid Grian’s gaze. With all that Grian had done and was doing for Mumbo, he deserved that respect, at least. “I… I wanted to be able to help you all. Like last time. I didn’t want to be the one who had to be helped too, so… I tried not to be.”

    For just a moment, Mumbo dropped his eyes to look at his hands, the single moment from months ago that had, if not entirely, assisted in bringing him to this point, still playing out perfectly in his mind’s eye. “And I think I would’ve been, really, until… I realized I was bleeding.”

    There weren’t any glitch injuries on Mumbo’s palms, but he could still feel the redstone scratch he had sustained that fateful day caving. He could still see the flakey mineral falling off of it only to reveal red still present, red that wouldn’t go away, red that dripped and flowed and stained, and for a single moment Mumbo could’ve sworn he once again heard his now useless heart beat.

    Grian’s hands reached out, slowly, and layered over Mumbo’s, and the memories slipped away from the forefront of his mind in an instant.

    “I’m sorry, Mumbo.” Grian said, and before Mumbo could interrupt he pushed on, “Not for not noticing. Sorry because this never should have happened to you. The blood mod never should have stuck. You never should have had to deal with the struggle of fighting your own mind and your own body. Even as lifers, none of us know what that must have been like.”

    “Like… like even the universe knew there was something wrong with you.” Mumbo tried to describe, and Grian curled his fingers lightly around Mumbo’s hands.

    “The universe doesn’t know anything.” Grian said it like it was a fact, like nothing else could be truer, and if anything dared disagreed he’d fight them himself. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re just hurting like we all were after the games. You wanted to help us, and you did. Now let us help you.”

    The vast majority of Mumbo wanted to say no. To refuse Grian, yet again, to go back over the points that were no longer relevant in reality but still felt like they should be. After so many months of trying to do what he thought was helping them, of staying as far from them as he could get, of not even entertaining their offers to give him anything, the thought of just saying ‘yes’ now, as if it were just that easy, felt almost like a trap.

    But Mumbo couldn’t bring himself to say no again, if for no one’s sake but Grian’s. All Mumbo had wanted to do, from the start, was help him, and Scar, and every other hermit. Staying away hadn’t done that. Nearly permadying hadn’t done that. If this was what they wanted- if helping him would help them- then Mumbo wouldn’t say no. Not again.

    “Alright.” Mumbo lightly squeezed Grian’s hands. “Since, er, my method’s not really been working at all, has it?”

    Grian blinked, seeming a bit surprised that Mumbo had actually said yes, but the confused expression was quickly replaced with a grin. “No, not especially.”

    And then Grian was moving forward, pulling Mumbo into a hug, and oh, yes Grian’s method of help was much, much better than Mumbo’s.

    Grian shifted to sit on the edge of the bed as Mumbo leaned more into the hug, not sure how he had forgotten the simple yet absolutely necessary joy of caring, genuine touch. After a moment, Mumbo could hear the sound of wheels pushing slowly along the ground and footsteps following them before two more pairs of arms came to wrap around him as well. The touch was light at first, unsure, testing Mumbo’s limits, but when he didn’t try to pull away their holds tightened, surrounding him on every side in a way that felt safe, not suffocating.

    For the first time in a long time, Mumbo allowed himself to believe there was still hope for him.

[kuiinncedes]

love getting distracted during lecture overthinking the shit out of something probably no one will actually notice/think about/care about 🤪😍

[kung-laos-hat]

Kiss Me

Kung Lao x Fem!Reader

AN: Kung Lao, my beloved. Wrote this while listening to Kiss Me More by Doja Cat ft. SZA, banger song. Not proof read yet‼️

Summary: Who doesn’t like when a little friendly rivalry turns into something more?

“You ready to meet your match this time?” Kung Lao chuckled, adjusting his footing and placing a hand on the tip of his hat.

“Course’ I am Lao,” (Y/n) huffed, getting into position, “When they get here make sure to let me know, yeah?”

This had become a daily occurrence. After dinner time, when lessons and training were done for the evening, the three of them would return to the court and cash in on a little sparring. It was their odd way of spending time together outside of missions, plus with the grand tournament coming up, they could use the extra practice.

Usually they had a rotation system that went Liu versus (Y/n), then (Y/n) versus Lao, then Liu versus Lao. They would rest a little after each match, then continue on per usual. However today’s session was going a little different.

Yesterday, (Y/n) had won against Lao and was so proud of her achievement she couldn’t help but rub it in, and Lao, being the prideful young man he was, demanded a rematch. He claimed the mission he’d gone on earlier that day had screwed him over physically. (Y/n) agreed to it, and now here they were.

“3...2...1... fight!” Liu Kang called out from the top on the stairs leading into the main hallway. As the pair lunged at each other, causing reddish brown puffs of dirt to fly off of the ground, he calmly sat and observed.

Minutes passed, and neither party seemed to have even made a scratch on the other. However, an impressive amount of blocking was being done by Kung Lao currently, so Liu assumed the victory would go to (Y/n). The girl had a giddy smile plastered across her face, and it seemed like she, too, expected the victory to be hers.

Liu turned to the side and reached for his water, but noticed he hadn’t brought any with him. He sighed and stood up.

“I’m going to fetch some water from the kitchen. Continue on, but please don’t wreck anything or kill each other. Master will have a fit and then I’ll receive part of the blame for not monitoring you two properly.” Liu said.

“Expect to come back to my—,” (Y/n) began before dodging a kick, “Another one of my victories!”

“Fat chance!”

Previous to all of this, the two friends already had some sort of tension between them. It started off as a friendly rivalry, competing for trifling things such as the last egg roll or using the bathroom first in the morning. But as the years passed, the competitons began to become more... personal. And so did the bickering. Somehow (Y/n) and Lao shifted from “if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick your ass” to “if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna make you.”

Nevertheless, the three of them quite enjoyed their dynamic (despite Liu Kang shooting knowing looks at the two individually).

Now (Y/n) had Kung Lao backed into a corner with her (weapon/power) held against his neck. Lao strained his neck upwards, his left arm holding his hat behind his back.

“That was the saddest block I’ve seen all day, Lao. Do you yield yet?” (Y/n) smirked triumphantly.

He glanced down at her and huffed. “Watch your tongue, (Y/n).”

He swiftly slid his foot under her, knocking her off her feet, and brought his hat back up to his head before disappearing into the ground. He reappeared behind her and attempted to pin her to the ground, but she jumped up and tackled the boy, landing with her legs straddling Lao’s right one and her hand on his chest.

“You’re so predictable these days,” (Y/n) laughed.

Lao propped himself up on his elbows, “You’re only saying that because you’ve gotten used to my moves.”

“Maybe you should take some time away from me,” (Y/n) jeered, “Y’know, and learn some better ones.”

Lao furrowed his eyebrows, “God, if you don’t stop flapping your mouth—,”

“You’re trapped under me, what are you gonna do? Kiss me?” She laughed.

Lao brought his leg up and forcefully kicked her off, sending her tumbling across the court. (Y/n) jumped onto her feet, narrowly avoiding hitting the wall.

“If you keep that up I just might.” Lao teased.

“You wouldn’t have the nerve,” (Y/n) lunged at him again.

Lao used his hat to block her attack and landed a solid kick to her side. “Is that a challenge?”

God, every word that came out of the girl’s mouth was beginning to get him fired up. He could feel his chest begin to tingle with a mix of excitement and anxiety. What if (Y/n) genuinely wanted to kiss him? If he tried, would she pull away? Kung Lao had always been the bolder of the two, but still.

Kung Lao charged at her and grabbing her hands, holding them behind her back with one hand before she could fully regain her footing. With his other hand he grasped the collar of her top and pulling her closer to his body. (Y/n) was paralyzed by this sudden action and her breath hitched. She looked up at Lao with uncertainty, the color of her cheeks turning redder than the fabric Liu Kang tied around his head.

Lao’s hand trailed up to her face, holding the side of her jaw with his pointer and middle finger while his thumb traced circles over her lower lip. Lao was looking directly into her eyes now.

“Just say the word and I will, (Y/n).” His tone was quieter and more serious than ever before.

(Y/n)’s mouth quivered. It felt like her brain had entirely blanked and she couldn’t find anything clever to respond with.

“I— I... I yield!” She cried, quickly pulling away in embarrassment.

(Y/n) ran up the stairs just as Liu Kang returned. She nodded to him in acknowledgment, but continued to rush off to her room.

Liu stopped and glanced from her retreating figure to his cousin who stood along in the court.

“So... who won?” He cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Kung Lao buried his face in his hands.

———

The next couple of days seemed incredibly off to everyone. (Y/n) went out of her way to avoid interacting with Kung Lao, and vice versa. Lao’s thoughts were just too jumbled for him to approach her, no matter how much he wanted a confirmation on whether she felt the same or not, and (Y/n) was having a difficult time making sense of Lao’s actions.

What would happen if they did like each other? Although at this point, neither of them were sure if “like” was the correct term to use. (Y/n) was certain up until then that Kung Lao had meant everything was a joke and simply took this one a little too far. The insults, the flirting, all of it had been a joke, right? That was their silent agreement. Lao would never do anything with the intention of... well... getting to (Y/n), per say. Their intentions with eachother had always been purely platonic.

But was that really the truth in (Y/n)’s case? Or had she been ignorant to her own feelings towards the boy all along? Is that why she couldn’t stand to look him in the eye now? What if she really was in—

“(Y/n)! Master wants me to accompany him somewhere, so I can’t make it tonight.” Liu called out as he jogged to catch up with the girl.

She blinked, “Oh, it’s alright Liu, we can reschedule for another night then.”

He stretched his arms over his head. “Why don’t you use the time to catch up with Kung Lao? It seems like you two hardly got to spend time together this week.”

(Y/n) blushed and began to shift her feet uncomformably, “Lao and I— we’re- I haven’t...” She sighed, “I’m not exactly in the mood to talk to him any time soon.”

Liu frowned, “It isn’t my place to speak in the matter, and I’m not sure what went down between you two, but If Lao said something I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

The girl groaned and leaned her head back. “That’s what I’m afraid of...” She mumbled.

Liu placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair, then placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

“You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you two will be back on track eventually. Remember: a little communication goes a long way.”

She nodded, “You’re right, I know. I’ll try to sort it out.”

___

Now, Kung Lao was completely crumbling over why (Y/n) had pushed him away. He believed that (Y/n) felt something for him, he was sure of it, and he’d been searching for an opportunity to pursue her for months. So when she jokingly asked if he would kiss her, how could he have resisted?

It was an impulsive decision, he admitted, but he was so sure she felt the same that he thought it didn’t matter. Maybe he should have been more forward and confessed his feelings for her in a different setting.

Buuuuut it was too late now. He blew it. And now she was avoiding him. He was a fool to assume such things about her.

Lao signed and threw himself done on his bed, sprawling his arms and legs out dramatically.

“Cousin? I’m heading out soon, I came to say goodbye—,” Liu’s voice faltered when he saw the state of his friend. He stifled a laugh. “Y’know, if you if this is effecting you so badly, why not just apologize and talk to her?”

Lao’s head shot up in alarm. “Oh no, how much did she tell you!?”

Liu laughed, “Little to nothing, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed the strange energy between you two lately.”

Lao groaned and sat up.

“Heed my advice, and stop moping around, Lao.” Liu patted the other young man’s shoulder before setting off to find their master.

___

A few hours passed and Kung Lao finally felt like he had the right words to explain how he felt to (Y/n). Yes, he’d spent hours cooped up in his room, scribbling his thoughts down on paper until he ultimately decided it was best to be direct. The poor girl was probably confused enough as it was.

It was settled then. He’d talk to her tomorrow after training and lessons, but right now it was probably best to focus on dinner.

He silently walked down the main hall and towards the kitchen. He was sheet he staff had already cleaned up dinner, and seeing as he wasn’t present to eat with the others, it was likely they didn’t bother to prepare him a plate.

Lao opened the door but froze in his tracks at the sight of (Y/n) standing in front of the counter, her shirt stained with the remnants of assorted ingredients. She staggered back at the sight of him in the door way. Lao’s eyes strayed to a small tray of egg rolls and a few other dishes.

“Kung Lao,” She breathed out.

He cleared his throat. “That seems a little excessive for a late night snack.”

“Oh this—,” (Y/n) glanced to the tray and back at him, “You weren’t at dinner, and I didn’t expect you to come to the kitchen... it was supposed to be a secret.”

“I see.” Kung Lao was silent for a moment. “Oh. OH— this is,” He gestured to the tray awkwardly, “for me...”

(Y/n) pursed her lips and nodded, glancing down at the floor. The two of them stood without a word for a moment, anxiety building up in their stomachs. Neither of them wanted to be the first to break the silence, and yet both of them had so much to say.

“I’m sorry.” (Y/n) mumbled at last. “I took our usual teasing too far last time, and I shouldn’t have avoided you—,”

“I wanted to kiss you.” Kung Lao blurted out. “I still do. And wanted you to want me to kiss you.”

“Kung Lao, the jokes we made were fun and all—,”

“Well, I’m not playing around anymore, (Y/n). This time it isn’t a joke.” The serious look he had on the other day had returned.

“So...,” (Y/n) began, barely a whisper, “what are you saying?”

Kung Lao exhaled heavily and furrowed his brows. “How can I be any more transparent right now!?” He growled, “I’m in love with you, (Y/n).”

It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of both of their chests in that moment.

(Y/n) smiled and wasted no time to wrap her arms around Kung Lao’s neck and press her lips against his. He kissed back without hesitation and wrapped his arms around her body shamelessly. Kung Lao deepened the kiss, and their lips moved together feverently, as if this was something they’d both been yearing for for a while.

When they finally separated, (Y/n) rested her head in the crook of Lao’s neck, sighing happily.

“You know what? I think I just might be in love with you too, Lao.”

[ohmyjinsus]

i wish you would

choi yeonjun x gender neutral! reader

exes to ??? || 2.3k

I’ve started this new thing where I put all of taylor swift’s songs on shuffle and write a fic based off the first one that comes on (let's see how long this lasts lmao) - this is the first one uwu

summary: after impulsively breaking up with yeonjun, you realize that was the stupidest decision you’ve ever made and spend the rest of your week wishing you could have him back (idk just go listen to the song)

“I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice is so quiet, you aren’t even sure Yeonjun can hear it through the phone.

“Is this because of last night?” He asks. “I’m sorry y/n, I know you’re busy with school. I didn’t think you’d want to come.”

“No.” You don’t mind that he went to a party without you. He’s right, you would have said no anyway. “I heard you were getting a little too friendly with some people.”

“Are you jealous?” He sounds shocked. “We’ve been together for 2 years, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“I know,” you reassure him. “I’m just worried.”

“Worried about what?” His voice is softer now.

You wish you were having this conversation in person so you could see his facial expressions, but you’re so upset. You had to talk to him as soon as your friend called you. You’d already been insecure about your relationship these past few weeks. When you heard that your boyfriend was flirting with her, your anxiety got even worse.

“I know you love me,” you say slowly, sitting down on your bed. “But we haven’t seen each other in a week, Yeonjun. Maybe you don’t miss me as much as I miss you.”

“I can’t believe you would even think that. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I just miss you.”

“I know baby,” he sounds just as upset as you. “I’m sorry too.”

“What do we do?” You grab the plushie on your bed. He won it for you at some carnival you went to ages ago. You’ve been sleeping with it ever since.

“What do you want to do?” Yeonjun asks. “In my head, I know you’re right. I can’t see you as often as I used to, but I don’t want to leave you.”

The thought of more nights like these makes you want to cry. Just a few months ago, you were spending all your time at his house. Staying up until 2am talking about everything was your normal. Then all of a sudden work and school and countless other things popped up and now everything’s fallen apart. Yeonjun’s been a constant in your life for the past two years, even longer, but the two of you can’t keep up with it anymore.

Not being a part of his day breaks your heart. Hearing about what he’s up to from other people hurts even more. You don’t know if you can handle that. You’ve already drifted apart. Staying together might just make things worse.

“I think we should break up.”

“y/n no,” he whispers. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t-”

“Can I see you? Right now?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Yeonjun only lives a few streets over. It would take him less than 5 minutes to get to your house.

“Why not?” He asks.

“I’ll cry.” Your voice gets even smaller. You hug your plushie tighter, trying to ignore the fact that it smells like him.

“y/n, I just want to give you a hug.”

“No,” you tell him, surprised at how firm you sound. “No,” you say again, softer. “I can’t handle that right now, I might change my mind.”

“I want you to change your mind.”

“Yeonjun, come on,” you sigh. This would be so much easier if he agreed with you. “I don’t want to drag this on any longer than necessary.” He stays quiet for a few seconds.

“Okay,” he says, finally. “If you want to split up, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. Part of you hopes he’ll fight with you and tell you he’s not leaving. Another part of you is relieved.

“No,” he admits. “Are you?”

“No.” That’s when the tears start to fall. You have no idea if you’re doing the right thing. The two of you have had conversations like this before, but none of them have been this serious. You’ve always been able to quickly resolve your issues, but you don’t think that’s possible this time. “But it’s for the best.”

“Sure, y/n.”

“Thanks.” You don’t know what to say. Yeonjun’s your first boyfriend, and this is your first breakup. You hope he can’t hear you crying through the phone.

“I’ll come pick up my things later,” he sounds like he might cry too. “I’ll text you.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

“I guess there’s nothing else to say then.”

“No, not from me.”

“Me too.”

“Bye Yeonjun.” You don’t even try to hide your sniffles at this point.

“Bye y/n,” he replies. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hang up before he can say anything else.

===

You’re sitting on the floor with Yeonjun’s sweater wrapped around you. It’s been a week since you spoke to him. He hasn’t picked his things up yet, which you’re grateful for. That’s when the breakup will be real. You wish it wasn’t. If you could go back in time, you never would have hung up the phone that night.

You’ve been up at 2am countless times, thinking about Yeonjun, being with Yeonjun, but here you are, missing him instead. Every time you see headlights through your window, you pray it’s him. When your phone lights up, you hope you’ll pick up and hear his voice.

You would call him yourself, but you have a strong feeling he hates you. Ending your relationship was a stupid decision. You shouldn’t have done it in the heat of the moment. The two of you have been through so much together, surely you could make it through this rough patch. That’s what you tell yourself.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

===

Yeonjun hasn’t been himself since you broke up. After that phone call, he locks himself in his room for days, refusing to speak to anyone. He ignores all his friends’ messages, unable to bring himself to talk to anyone. The only person he wants to speak to is you.

There are so many things he wishes he had done differently. He should’ve been more affectionate. He should’ve told you he loved you more often. He should’ve tried harder and been better. And he definitely shouldn’t have flirted with everyone. He knows it upset you but it’s just in his nature. He didn’t mean to push your buttons like that. No wonder it’s what broke you.

He contemplates showing up at your door every day, every hour even. But he’s scared you won’t answer, or that you’ll slam the door in his face. Maybe you’d yell and cuss him out for bothering you. He doesn’t know if it’s smarter to try and win you back or to just move on and forget you.

Yeonjun can’t sleep tonight, too consumed with all the memories of you. Earlier, he found a birthday card you wrote him early on in your relationship. You signed it with “love, y/n.” Although he’d never admit it, it made him cry then. It makes him cry even more now.

All he knows is that he needs fresh air. He runs downstairs, grabs his car keys and leaves. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just needs to get out.

Now it’s 2am and he’s driving past your house.

He’s spent countless days there, in your room, falling in love with you over and over again. Since you split up, he’s been driving by your house every day. He doesn’t have the courage to walk up to your door. He can’t even find it in himself to call you.

He puts his foot down, speeding up to get past your house quicker. He’s going 70 in a 40 but he doesn’t care. This is the last time he’ll do this, he tells himself.

But as Yeonjun pulls onto his own driveway, he hesitates. Maybe it was the card, he’s not sure. He can’t get your smile out of his head.

Something makes him put the car into reverse.

===

You know it’s late, but you need fresh air. Whenever you felt this way before, Yeonjun would take you for a walk around the block. He said it would help clear your head. He was right.

All the reminders of him are still in your room. You don’t have the energy to put everything away. It scares you to imagine life without him. But sitting alone with those memories feels just as terrible.

Stuffing your phone in your pocket, you sneak down the stairs and outside, hoping no one will hear you.

It’s weird being out here without him. You miss holding his hand and making him laugh. If you’re being honest, you miss everything about him. He’s everywhere you look, constantly in your mind.

While you think, a car comes speeding by, making you jump. Your immediate thought is to call Yeonjun. Whenever you were out by yourself, he would always come pick you up right away. You wish he would do that now. You felt so safe with him. Now, you just feel alone.

Checking your phone, you see it’s 2:15. You pull your sweater tighter around you. Yeonjun will probably come get it soon. It’s one of his favourites.

As you turn around and start walking back to your house, your phone rings. You glance at it, expecting it to be a random number.

When you see Yeonjun’s name, you almost drop your phone. Once you answer, you don’t even know what to say.

“y/n.” You almost start crying. It’s only been a week, but it feels like a lifetime since you’ve heard his voice. “Why are you out so late?”

“What do you mean?” You stop walking, wondering how he knows you’re out.

“I can see you by the stop sign.” Your head whips around, scanning the area, looking for him. “I’m on your left.”

You spot him, a few metres away, standing right by his car. When he notices you looking, he starts walking in your direction. You can’t move. Part of you thinks this might just be a dream.

Once he’s in front of you, it takes all your strength not to throw yourself into his arms. You end the call, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says.

“Hm?” You can’t form a coherent though, you’re just so shocked to see him again.

“Why are you out right now?”

“Why are you out?” He laughs at how you avoid the question.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You have to kiss him. Right now. The second your lips are on his, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. You missed this. You missed him.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” you whisper when you pull away. Yeonjun’s still holding you tight.

“It’s been a terrible week,” you admit.

“I know, right?” He kisses you again. “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“Why are you sorry? I should be apologizing.” He shakes his head.

“I’m such a terrible boyfriend, I should have-”

“You came back.” You cut him off right away. “I pushed you away, but you came back.”

“I did.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“I missed you too much.” You nod, agreeing with him.

Another car speeds past as the two of you stand there, in each other’s arms. That’s when you remember how late it is.

“What do we do now?”

“Let me take you home.” He unwraps himself from you, taking your hand instead. Once your fingers are interlaced, you give him a squeeze. He smiles.

“y/n, promise me something,” Yeonjun says as you walk over to his car.

“Sure.”

“Never leave me again.” You roll your eyes as he opens the passenger side door for you, but you still give him a kiss.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I won’t.”

He holds your hand the entire way back to your house. Normally you would scold him, telling him how unsafe that is, even if it is a short trip. You don’t mind it today.

When he drops you off on your porch, you beg him to come inside. He laughs and tells you no.

“I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“For sure?” He holds out his pinky so you do the same. Once he pinky swears, you smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that-”

“Don’t make me break up with you again.” His eyes go wide. “What?”

“So we’re back together then?”

“Um,” you hesitate. “Yes?”

“Good.” He kisses your cheek. “That’s what I wanted.” You smile up at him, glad to have him back. You really meant it when you said you wouldn’t leave him again.

“Me too.”

[aboveallarescuer]

#that happens even when the person isnt trying to argue that shes a mad queen/villain but that she has both 'good' and 'evil' in her#and is meant to fail#(e.g. that meta about how dany is a tragic shakespearean hero; which annoys me more bc it sounds convincing when you don't remember what#happened in the books very well...

Can you talk more about your problems with that essay? I thought that it sounded plausible... I don't want those things to happen to Daenerys, but I don't trust GRRM either.

Anon, thank you for this ask and sorry for the delayed answer. I was already planning to write several posts as a response to the arguments of “Daughter of Death: A Song of Ice and Fire’s Shakespearean Tragic Hero” (which you can read here), but I couldn't find the time or motivation for that lately, so thanks for giving me the opportunity to counter-argue it in a single answer. I tried to be brief by summarizing some of my notes and by linking to a lot of metas instead of repeating all of their points, but the response unfortunately ended up becoming long anyway.

In the context of that essay, Dany is considered a Shakespearean tragic hero because the writer thinks she fits five requirements: 1) Dany’s chapters contain supposedly deliberate references to Shakespearean plays; 2) Dany is “torn by an internal struggle”, namely peace versus violence or companionship versus rulership or home versus the Iron Throne, all of which also drive the external conflicts. Choosing the second options will lead to her demise; 3) prophecies and “influential accidents” - that is, events that “have roots in a character’s motivation”, as well as “the sense of ‘if only this had not happened’” - will “heighten and exaggerate [tragic flaws that] already [exist]” in Dany; 4) Dany will (according to the essayist’s speculations) take actions that produce “exceptional calamity” and her demise will be “her own choice and doing”; 5) Dany “[rose] high in position” and is “an exceptional being”, which sets her apart as a character that fits the mold of the Shakespearean tragedy because her reversal of fortune will highlight “the greatness and piteousness of humanity”.

I would argue that the points that the essayist made to justify how Dany supposedly fits these five requirements are all very skewed.

1) When it comes to requirement 1 (Dany’s chapters contain supposedly deliberate references to Shakespearean plays), the essayist is conveniently cherry-picking (as they often do throughout the meta). Bran Stark wants a dreamless sleep just like Dany: “Sweet, dreamless sleep, Bran thought.” (ACOK Bran I); “That night Bran prayed to his father’s gods for dreamless sleep.” (ACOK Bran II). Indeed, @marinabridgerton argues that that’s most likely tied to the fact that they’re the two characters most heavily associated with prophecies. Even Sansa is said to have a dreamless sleep: “Sometimes her sleep was leaden and dreamless, and she woke from it more tired than when she had closed her eyes” (AGOT Sansa VI). And yet, where are the essays about how these quotes are teaching the readership to interpret Bran’s and Sansa’s characters, storylines and trajectories based on Shakespearean tragedies?

2) When it comes to requirement 2 (Dany is “torn by an internal struggle”, namely peace versus violence or companionship versus rulership or home versus the Iron Throne, all of which also drive the external conflicts. Choosing the second options will lead to her demise), the essayist is right to point out that those dilemmas exist. However, they portray Dany’s struggles in a way that makes it seem that 1) there are “good” options (peace/companionship/home) and “bad” options (violence/rulership/Iron Throne) for Dany to take and that 2) choosing the latter ones will lead to Dany’s downfall. There is a lot to question about these assumptions.

2.1) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between peace versus violence, the essayist takes everything that Adam Feldman’s series of essays “Untangling the Meereenese Knot” says for granted when it shouldn’t be. I’m not going to delve into all the problems/inaccuracies/double standards with those essays. For our purposes here, it’s enough to say that they: 1) dichotomize Dany’s identity into mhysa and mother of dragons to argue that the former represents her desire for peace and the latter her violent impulses; 2) assert that the peace was real; 3) conclude that, by rejecting the peace, the Dany of ASOS is gone and from now on she’s going to be a very different person because she will have chosen to follow her violent impulses.

As already argued before, though, 1) Dany’s character can’t be dichotomized in that way because these facets - mhysa and mother of dragons - actually complement each other (as @yendany made clear in her most recent meta). Because Dany was the mother of dragons, she was able to act as mhysa way before she was hailed as such, which we see, for instance, when she kills the Astapori slave masters to free the Unsullied. Both of these identities manifest Dany’s fierceness when faced with great injustices. This is why, in ADWD, locking her dragon children prevented Dany from properly defending her human children… She needs to integrate both parts of her identity to be able to protect them. But Feldman couldn’t recognize that because 2) he accepts the peace deal that Dany made with the slavers as valid. Doing so would mean, however, ignoring the re-enslavement and suffering of thousands of marginalized people, which GRRM continually emphasizes in Dany's and Tyrion’s final ADWD chapters (read more about this here and here) to hammer home that the peace is false for prioritizing the slavers over them. Finally, 3) Dany is not a violent person nor does she have violent impulses. Feldman decontextualized the moments in which Dany uses violence from the standards of her time and place (read more about this here and here and here and here) to portray them in a more negative light than how they are actually meant to be viewed. Additionally, he conveniently left out all the moments in which Dany chooses to be merciful, from when she spares Yunkai and most of the Meereenese slavers (she didn’t do the same in Astapor because she was outnumbered and needed to protect her retinue) to when she doesn’t punish people who threaten or disrespect her to her face (such an envoy who spits at her face, a boy who tries to attack her, Xaro after he says he wishes he’d killed her), to give a few examples (read more about this in @rainhadaenerys's comprehensive meta). I would argue that Dany’s conflict is less about peace versus violence and more accurately about her tendency to be merciful versus her desire for justice (which, especially in the particular context she finds herself in, is unattainable without violence). In fact, I would go further and say that it’s distasteful to characterize Dany as someone “violent” or with “violent impulses” when, so far, she’s only used violence to a) defend and protect victims of (physical and systemic) violence and/or b) in circumstances in which her actions are no more problematic than those of any other leader of her world. And yet, the essayist portrays them as if they were (“To choose indiscriminate destruction over peace tends toward the evil”).

It’s also convenient that the essayist only talks about fire negatively (“Dany wields unmatched power that can “make or unmake at a word”—Dracarys—villages, armies and kingdoms”, “in the words of Maester Aemon, “Fire consumes.””) when it's also connected to life, rebirth, healing and enlightenment. And dracarys in particular is explicitly associated with freedom by the narrative while Dany frees the Unsullied (her decision, in turn, is associated with her future actions in the War for the Dawn). But acknowledging these things would make it harder to portray Dany as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

2.2) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between companionship and rulership … Again, the dilemma exists, but not in the way that the essayist presents it. What I mean is that they go out of their way to make it seem that Dany’s loneliness was the main factor driving her decisions, such as the liberation of the Unsullied (“She feels for the forced loneliness of the Unsullied, and it is loneliness that convinces her to commit violence in the plaza to free the slaves—just as it is in loneliness she chooses violence amidst the Dothraki Sea.”)... And not, y’know, her compassion and sense of justice (“Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”), which are rarely acknowledged in this essay even though it’s arguably the main aspect of Dany's characterization. Why does the essayist do that? Because, since they are arguing that Dany is a tragic hero, they need to present Dany’s loneliness both as the reason why she achieved greatness and as the reason that will lead to her demise when she (supposedly) starts distrusting people, closing herself off and choosing violence (“the moral conviction she feels for her abolitionist crusade is part of the greatness that is also her tragic trait [...] She feels for the forced loneliness of the Unsullied, and it is loneliness that convinces her to commit violence in the plaza to free the slaves—just as it is in loneliness she chooses violence amidst the Dothraki Sea.”). As I said, however, doing so requires downplaying Dany’s compassion, as well as ignoring the fact that she does not close herself off to people in ADWD, nor is there any sign that this was seeded as a serious issue for her in future books (especially considering that her governance is meant to be contrasted with Cersei, the character who actually does close herself off to people. But more on that below when I talk about why Dany doesn’t fit the essayist’s third requirement).

Also, singling out rulership in particular as a reason for Dany to feel alone is conveniently selective (“Returning to Westeros means ruling Westeros - and ruling means loneliness”). All the major characters have reasons to feel lonely and isolated in their society because GRRM chose to focus on the underdogs. Their social standings are already enough to make all of them feel alone. As he said, “Tyrion of course is a dwarf which has its own challenges. Dany is an exile, powerless, penniless, at the mercy of other people, and Jon is a bastard”. You can also throw in Arya for being a young girl struggling to adhere to gender norms and Bran for being a disabled child. And that is just one example… There are a myriad of reasons and situations for various characters to feel lonely and isolated, but the essayist specifically chose to talk about how rulership causes that for Dany. And, considering that the essayist thinks that Dany’s rulership -> growing isolation and loneliness -> her ultimate downfall, it really feels like they’re punishing Dany narratively for acquiring and wielding power. Which leads me to the next point...

2.3) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between home and the Iron Throne, I would argue that that’s not really a conflict. Dany (like any feudal leader) believes she needs to retake the Iron Throne to stay in her homeland just like the Starks believe they need to retake Winterfell to stay in their homeland. Whether Dany finds herself at home in Westeros or not is irrelevant to that fact. And yet, the essayist only presents the former as being in the wrong for fighting for her birthright. However, as it's been already explained before, the Starks’ claim to the North isn’t morally righteous. They only have dominance over the North because, for thousands of years, their ancestors fought against, drove away and killed most of its indigenous population (the Children of the Forest), as well as multiple families who were also vying for control over the region. With that in mind, Dany fighting for her birthright isn’t any more problematic than the Starks enjoying the lands and privileges obtained with conquest and bloodshed, as well as the labor of peasants. One could argue that GRRM may have a double standard against Dany in this case (though it's been argued before that he doesn't intend to present the Iron Throne as a source of greed and evil like how fandom presents it) because of the order of the events and depending on whether he holds Dany accountable for more problems for waging her war than the Starks for having done/doing essentially the same thing, but that’s not what the essayist is doing. Instead, they a) take for granted that Dany is doing the wrong thing for fighting for the Iron Throne ("To delay the call of the North and continue to divide an already weakened realm is to give into dark desires.") and b) center all their speculations about her eventual demise based on that belief.

Ultimately, I would argue that none of these three dilemmas - peace versus violence, companionship versus rulership, home versus the Iron Throne - come with easy answers. When it comes to the first conflict, it’s important that Dany prioritizes the lives of the slaves over the privileges of the masters, but that causes more war and bloodshed. When it comes to the second and the third conflicts, it’s worth noting that the first options (which the essayist presents as the “good” ones) are actually the selfish paths for Dany to take. After all, she would rather live a normal life with a husband (companionship) in the house with the red door (home) - “She would rather have drifted in the fragrant pool all day, eating iced fruit off silver trays and dreaming of a house with a red door, but a queen belongs to her people, not to herself”. But, as the quote shows, instead of choosing these selfish goals, Dany accepts the burden of rulership and the fight for the Iron Throne because of her duty towards her people and ancestors. And, while this path leads to war (either in Meereen or in Westeros, though the former is morally righteous and the latter, while not inherently justified, is not any more problematic than Robb fighting for Northern independence), power is also the means through which Dany can make changes that benefit the common people.

With all that said, it’s ironic that Dany fans are often accused of flattening her character or her choices when it’s actually her detractors or “neutrals” (like the essayist) who do so - they are dead set on portraying Dany’s available options as either “good” or “bad” and on speculating that choosing the latter ones will lead to her downfall, but the text actually gives her conflicts in which all the options have their pros and cons.

The essayist also makes a mistake that isn’t really up to interpretation or difference in opinions. They say that, in AGOT Daenerys III, “after admitting this difficult truth [that Viserys will never take back the Seven Kingdoms], Dany assumes the goal for herself (and at the time, her son)”. That is incorrect. In AGOT Daenerys V, moments before Viserys’s death, Dany says she would have allowed him to have the dragon eggs because “he is my brother … and my true king”. Jorah doesn’t think she should still acknowledge him as such, but she tells him that “he is all I have”. So no, Dany hadn’t assumed the goal for herself at that point, she only took over his campaign in her son's name (not hers) after Viserys's death. But the essayist needs to exaggerate Dany's ambition to justify her demise, since they speculate that “in that hurt and betrayal, all that will be left - she will think - is the crown”.

3) When it comes to requirement 3 (prophecies and “influential accidents” - that is, events that “have roots in a character’s motivation”, as well as “the sense of ‘if only this had not happened’” - will “heighten and exaggerate [tragic flaws that] already [exist]” in Dany), the problem is not in cherry-picking or in double standards against Dany, but rather in the essayist’s lack of knowledge about Dany’s characterization. It’s simply not true that Dany’s distrust of people grows to the point that she closes herself off to them. Instead, I would argue that Dany is actually portrayed as someone with a healthy distrust of people. We know from the books (1, 2, 3, 4) that she finds it unlikely that Barristan, Grey Worm or Missandei would ever betray her, but that she doesn’t think she can rely entirely upon Reznak, the Green Grace, the Shavepate, Hizdahr and Daario. Do Dany’s doubts about these people’s intentions lead her to, as the essayist says, “push people away”? No. Through almost all of ADWD, she (wrongly, though understandably) believes that "until [freedmen and former masters stand together, Meereen will know no peace". Accordingly, Dany is willing to listen to the counsel of all of her advisors (both the ones she trusts and the ones she distrusts) to ensure that she makes informed decisions. To give some examples:

Dany allows “well spoken and gently born” people (i.e., not the typical condition of most former slaves, who are glad that Dany freed them) to sell themselves into slavery and imposes a tax each time men chose to do so like how it happened in Astapor (ASOS Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with both Missandei and Daario.

Dany employs the Unsullied to ask the Blue Graces if someone showed up with a sword wound and to ask butchers and herdsmen who’s been gelding goats (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany chooses not to punish any noble in response to the murder of Stalwart Shield and only increases the amount of gold for whoever gives information about the Sons of the Harpy (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she agreed with Reznak and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany gives up on banning the tokar and wears it herself (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace.

Dany (rightly) refuses to reopen the fighting pits for a while until she later relents in the name of the peace with the Meereenese nobles (ADWD Daenerys I, II, III, VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Hizdahr, Reznak, the Green Grace and the Shavepate and agreed with Missandei.

Dany delays the choice of a husband until it becomes necessary later (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak, the Shavepate and the Green Grace.

Dany chooses to pay the shepherds for the animals that they say their dragons ate (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak.

Dany pays Hazzea’s father the blood price (i.e., one hundred times the worth of a lamb) for her death, lays her bones to rest in the Temple of the Graces and promises to pay for his children each year so they shall not want (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany allows the Shavepate to torture the wineseller and his daughters for information about the Sons (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate.

Dany imposes a blood tax on the noble families to pay for a new watch led by the Shavepate, takes the gold and the stores of food of any nobleman who wishes to leave the city and keeps two children from each pyramid as hostages instead of letting the nobles go unpunished after nine freedmen were killed by the Sons (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate and disagreed with Reznak.

Dany has Barristan and Groleo and his captains and sailors to inspect Xaro’s ships (ADWD Daenerys III). By making this decision, she agreed with Barristan.

Dany chooses not to go to Westeros despite being offered ships to do so (ADWD Daenerys III). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany doesn’t kill her child hostages despite the Sons’ ongoing attacks (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany agrees to marry Hizdahr if he’s able to give her ninety days of peace in Meereen (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr, the Green Grace and Reznak and disagreed with the Shavepate, Barristan, Missandei and Daario.

Dany refuses to gather the masters and kill them indiscriminately (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she disagreed with Daario.

Dany doesn’t allow the Shavepate to continue his tortures due to their unreliable results (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany refuses to use her dragons in battle (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with Reznak.

Dany decides not to take the field against Yunkai (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate and disagreed with Barristan.

Dany brings the food to the Astapori refugees instead of sending someone else to do it (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak, the Shavepate and Barristan.

Dany burns the dead among the Astapori refugees, bathes an old man and shames her men into helping her (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany refuses to allow Hizdahr’s mother and sisters to inspect her womb and to wash Hizdahr’s feet before he washes hers (ADWD Daeneerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany decides to marry Hizdahr by Ghiscari rites and to wear a white tokar fringed with pearls (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany allows Hizdahr to reopen the fighting pits (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr, the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany goes along with a peace agreement with the Yunkish slavers in which she’ll let Yunkai and Astapor reinstall slavery if they leave Meereen intact (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr.

Dany holds court in order to, among other reasons, meet the Westerosi men that came over from the Windblown (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she agreed with Daario.

Dany doesn’t accept Quentyn’s marriage proposal because she doesn’t want to abandon her people (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany doesn’t ride a horse in a tokar to meet Hizdahr (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she agreed with Missandei.

Dany decides not to sound out the Company of the Cats (even though she wanted to) because Barristan says he's untrustworthy (ADWD Daenerys VIII). By making this decision, she agreed with Barristan.

Dany attends the reopening of the pits (ADWD Daenerys IX). By making this decision, she disagreed with Missandei.

Dany allows the Brazen Beasts to guard her because she wants to show that she trusts them so that her people can trust them as well (ADWD Daenerys IX). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany prevents Tyrion and Penny from fighting against lions with wooden swords. By making this decision, she disagreed with Hizdahr.

I didn’t include all of Dany’s decisions because she makes many of them on her own and/or without someone explicitly supporting them or opposing them (in fact, many of the ones above were made without any advisor giving her their feedback, but I listed them if they’re seen agreeing or disagreeing with her onpage anyway). That being said, note that Reznak is the one that Dany is most suspicious of (because he perfectly fits the description of one of the treasoners), but that five of her decisions follow his recommendations, in contrast to Barristan (the knight who she actually trusts and who keeps all her secrets) only having his advice followed twice. Also note that Dany “trusted Skahaz more than she trusted Hizdahr”, but she agreed with the former three times and disagreed with him eight times, in contrast to having agreed with the latter four times and disagreed with him twice. The list clearly shows that Dany listens to everyone’s feedback (including from people she distrusts), considers it carefully, makes her own decisions and handles dissent extremely well. Her actions reflect her own words (“A queen must listen to all. [...] One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found”, “It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone”).

There is, however, one character who is seen only listening to people who agree with her and who distrusts and closes herself off to almost everyone - Cersei Lannister. And it’s especially worth noting that Cersei is meant to be “directly contrasted” with Dany, that the author was “doing point and counterpoint” with them and that each of them is meant to show “a different approach to how a woman would rule in a male dominated, medieval-inspired fantasy world”. In other words, Dany and Cersei are narrative foils, but Cersei’s traits are being transferred to Dany in this essay.

Also, I could just as easily create an entire narrative about how Sansa will end up closing herself off to people based on what we see on canon. She thought she could trust Joffrey, but she ultimately couldn’t. She thought she could trust Cersei, but she ultimately couldn’t. She trusted Sandor, but he left her. She tried to trust the Tyrells, but they ultimately disposed of her after she was no longer necessary. She tried to rely on Dontos, but he was a disappointment and was ultimately murdered. She doesn’t trust Littlefinger, but she needs to stick to his side because she has no better option. She considered telling the Vale lords her identity, but she doesn’t trust them. All of this feeds into Sansa’s distrust of others and will lead to tragic consequences. Indeed, as Sansa herself says, "In life, the monsters win". I bet that the essayist would find this whole speculation biased considering that they favor Sansa's character. But then, why is only Dany singled out as the one who is going to meet her demise even though it’s made clear that she continues to trust people through and through?

The essayist needs to say that Dany starts distrusting people to an unhealthy degree (“As Dany gains more power, [...] her focus on the treasons causes her to push people away, widening the gap between rulership and companionship”; ”The more power she gains, the greater her isolation and likely her fear of betrayal. The fear of betrayal is, of course, human. But GRRM has stated that he likes to turn dramatic situations up to 11, which is necessary to create the Shakespearean tragic hero. Dany’s fear must be larger than life.”), as well as to judge her campaign to take back the Seven Kingdoms based on double standards (“Dany’s great sin within the story’s moral order will have been focusing on the war for Westeros against Aegon VI before she turns to the enemy of the North”) compared to the Starks. If they didn’t do so, there wouldn’t be a reason to justify Dany’s demise. If they didn’t do so, the entire speculation that she’s a Shakespearean tragic hero falls apart. But saying that something is true doesn’t necessarily make it true, you need to provide the textual evidence (which they barely do … They assume that the reader will take almost everything they say for granted. After all, since there’s a prophecy foretelling that Dany will be betrayed three times, of course she’s going to distrust people way too much from now on).

There’s also another aspect of Dany’s relationship with prophecies that the essayist portrays inaccurately. They say that “the effect of this prophecy on Daenerys is multifaceted” for “[promising] greatness” (which, along with the also inaccurate statement that “part of Dany’s pursuit of the Iron Throne is born from a sense of destiny”, implies that Dany wants to be great or that she thinks of herself as great, none of which are true) and pushing her “further from the people who surround her”. I already questioned the latter statement, and the former is inaccurate too. After all, Dany has doubts that there are men in Westeros waiting for the Targaryens to return. The birth of the dragons has to do with the fact that Dany was able to put two and two together with clues from dragon dreams and Mirri's words, not because she thinks she's exceptional. Dany is not really sure that the red comet was meant for her. She followed its direction because the other paths weren't reliable and, even in Qarth, she's unsure that it was meant to guide her to success. Then she never thinks about it again. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany is surprised when told by Quaithe that she's the reason why magic is increasing in the world and never thinks or brags about it after their interaction. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany doesn't think she won any victories in the House of the Undying, she credits Drogon for burning the Undying Ones. She only allows Jhiqui to add a bell to the end of her braid because "the Dothraki would esteem her all the more for a few bells in her hair". Dany refuses to sit on the throne inside the Great Pyramid's audience chamber and chooses to sit on a simple ebony bench that the Meereenese think does "not befit a queen". Dany refuses the offer to have a statue in her image to replace the bronze harpy in the Plaza of Purification. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany is highly self-critical and, later in ADWD, thinks that she "was as clean as she was ever going to be" after taking a bath because she holds herself accountable for the upcoming slaughter in the opening of the fighting pits. I'd expect different from someone that thinks they're exceptional. Dany doesn’t think that the people who came to the reopening of the pits wanted to see her - “it was my floppy ears they cheered, not me”. I'd expect different from someone that thinks they're exceptional. Most of Dany's titles (the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Mhysa, Azor Ahai, etc) are given to her by other people, they're not self-proclaimed (not that there's a problem if they were, I'm only saying it to reiterate that Dany doesn't think she's exceptional). The ones that she assumes on her own are the ones that anyone who believes in birthright (i.e., everyone in her time and place, regardless of family, regardless of whether they're Targaryens) would assume.

4) When it comes to requirement 4 (Dany will (according to the essayist’s speculations) take actions that produce “exceptional calamity” and her demise will be “her own choice and doing”) … Well, we now enter the realm of speculation. It’s not impossible that Dany “will feel like a villain to the Westerosi, as she burns their villages and crops ahead of a hard winter” in the future. The problem here, once again, is in the double standards. Look at the way the essayist describes the likely reascendance of the Starks in the upcoming books - “With the death of “good” characters like Ned, the injury of innocents and moments such as the Red Wedding, ASOIAF as a story is not concerned with justice. But as the story progresses, we see that the way Ned ruled his people and raised his children contrasts with characters like Tywin and his methods. Much of the North seems to continue to rally behind the idea of the Starks, some with less “honorable” methods than others, while Tywin’s legacy begins to fall apart. Like in Shakespeare’s tragic world, there appears to be an order that arcs towards a higher idea of goodness that instills a dramatic satisfaction”. Like I said above when I questioned requirement 2, the Starks’ claim to the North is no more justified than Dany’s to the Seven Kingdoms. They have the advantage of having had their rule normalized throughout the thousands of years they ruled the North, but it doesn’t change the fact that, because they’re feudal lords, they still maintain a system rigged in favor of the nobles that promotes social inequality and extreme lack of social mobility. It doesn’t change the fact that there's no righteous form of feudalism. But only Dany is criticized in that sense by the essayist - “By nature, power breeds inequality, when one party has the ability to decide the fate of another. That inequality creates distance. As a queen Dany wields absolute power over the rest of her subjects and her court”. Which is pretty infuriating not only because the Starks are also morally grey in the sense that the essayist describes, but also because GRRM specifically mentioned that Daenerys is the ruler "who wants equality for everyone, she wants to be at the same level as her people". Additionally, if Ned left a legacy that motivated his people to fight against his enemies, so did Dany with the former slaves. But the essayist needs to ignore all of that to paint Dany as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

Even if we don’t take into account what TWOIAF reveals about the Starks’ ancestors, the main story itself often paints House Stark’s actions in a negative light. We see a peasant spitting at the mention of the Starks and saying that things were better with King Aerys II in power. We're told that Northmen looking for Jaime on Edmure’s orders burned a village called Sallydance and were guilty of rape and murder. It’s no wonder that the High Sparrow mentions the wolves along with the lions as threats to the septas. Also, thousands of soldiers died indirectly because of Robb’s decisions, as well as lots of people who remained north and became vulnerable to raping and pillaging due to his inability to hold Winterfell. And finally, when winter comes, the smallfolk will be affected by the actions of the northmen, who (like Dany might do in the future) already helped to disrupt the harvest and to leave the continent short on food. And yet, why is their future success framed as “an order that arcs towards a higher idea of goodness”? Why is Dany the only one who is said to be “giv[ing] into dark desires” by “divid[ing] an already weakened realm” when the Starks (framed as the heroes in the essay) did the same thing? This double standard gets infuriating when one remembers that Dany is the one fighting a war in the name of the disenfranchised (even though she is not connected to them by blood or lands or oath of fealty and doesn’t gain anything by helping them), while the Starks are (and will be, if they want to retake Winterfell) fighting a war because of personal injury (which, sympathetic as it may be, doesn’t justify the damage that they caused to the smallfolk). It gets even more infuriating when, as @rakharo pointed out to me, one remembers that, while Dany is trying to right the wrongs of the Valyrians by ending slavery in Slaver’s Bay, none of the Starks have acknowledged, much less tried to make amends for injustices perpetrated by the First Men against the Children of the Forest. It gets even more infuriating when one remembers that Aegon the Conqueror united Westeros in preparation for the War for the Dawn (something that GRRM himself confirmed), while the Starks’ ancestors conquered the North solely because of their greed. That's why Dany’s story can’t be effective as a tragedy: she’d be punished for starting to do what everyone else was doing after doing more than almost everyone else was doing.

5) When it comes to requirement 5 (Dany “[rose] high in position” and is “an exceptional being”, which sets her apart as a character that fits the mold of the Shakespearean tragedy because her reversal of fortune will highlight “the greatness and piteousness of humanity”), again, we’re in the realm of speculation. But there are some things to question as well. First, the essayist validates the criticisms that Dany “too easily ascends to a position of power” by using them as proof that she’s a tragic character. But that’s not really true, which becomes clear with a few comparisons: the Starks lost their father, mother and older brother throughout the story because of the Lannisters, which Dany also did; but her losses go beyond them: she also lost another brother, her first husband and her first child. The Starks had their direwolves given to them, Dany had to use her intuition and then literally walk into a fire to birth her dragons. Aegon the Conqueror used dragons to take Westeros, Dany conquered three cities without barely using hers. Jon Snow’s conflict in ADWD involves conciliating the Free Folk and the Night’s Watch after he makes decisions favoring the former group, while Dany’s involves conciliating the freedmen and the slavers after she makes decisions favoring the former group, which has a worldwide impact; Jon’s conflict has relatively low stakes (because it hasn’t involved the Others so far), Dany’s conflict leads to “half the world” wanting her dead. As these examples show, Dany suffered more losses than the Starks. Dany had to do a lot more than the Starks to find her animal companions. Dany became a conqueror primarily because of her military strategies and resourcefulness without relying on dragonfire like her ancestor. Dany faced greater opposition than her male counterpart Jon so far. As we can see, gaining power and retaining it has not been easy for Dany at all. Every single one of her accomplishments has been earned. But it sure is interesting that Dany’s supposed future tragedies must stem from her actions, but that her victories aren’t given the proper credit and acknowledged as being a result of what she also did as well.

And then the essayist declares something even more inaccurate: that Dany “overcame each obstacle that came her way” and that “Robb and Jon paid for their mistakes while Dany did not” (which, to the essayist, is evidence that “Dany’s fall is meant to stand in contrast as something grander than just one slip-up”).

First of all, Dany clearly did not overcome every obstacle that came her way. Saying so means ignoring all of her ADWD storyline (and it’s funny how Dany's detractors go from saying that she’s overpowered and hasn’t suffered consequences to accusing her of being a bad ruler precisely because she dealt with the negative consequences of her choices, lol). To recap, Dany had an indirect part in the wars outside Meereen because she left the Yunkish slavers’ wealth intact, which leads to terrible consequences - multiple city-states and sellsword companies joining forces against her, Astapor’s fall, the pale mare’s outbreak, the emergence of refugees from Astapor outside her city and the upcoming Battle of Fire. Dany had an indirect role in the wars inside Meereen because she left most of the Meereenese slavers alive with most of their wealth intact, which leads to terrible consequences - the Sons of the Harpy’s attacks and dozens of freedmen’s deaths. Additionally, Dany had an indirect role in Hazzea’s death because Drogon was allowed to roam freely and she had no way to train him or her brothers. All these problems culminate in Dany agreeing with a peace deal that, as already explained here, was inherently unjust for prioritizing the slavers over the freedmen. Dany had to learn that, as much as she wants peace and to plant trees, there are situations in which she can’t be merciful because violence really is the only way to achieve justice for the disenfranchised. (On the flip side, that’s one of the reasons why I’m critical of the theory that Dany accidentally burns King’s Landing. When she was merciful, as I just listed, great tragedies occurred (which is fine, it was a realistic exploration of what happens when you abolish slavery and try to do good). When she used fire and blood, great tragedies will occur too? Even though she would be acting just like the Starks or any other feudal lord by fighting for her birthright? The theory narratively punishes Dany in a way that it doesn't do with the Starks, which is why it's no wonder that it was created by someone with Stark/Stannis biases. Additionally, it validates the common belief that Dany is only meant to be a wartime queen, even though she’s already showed that she’s a good peacetime ruler.)

Second, is dying the only way to pay for one’s mistakes (considering that only Robb and Jon are listed as examples of characters who did)? I don’t think so. Consider Sansa. Didn’t she pay for the mistake of going to Cersei to tell her of Ned’s plan? I would say she did. I would say the author agrees - “Sansa was the least sympathetic of the Starks in the first book; she has become more sympathetic, partly because she comes to accept responsibility for her part in her father's death”. Similarly, Dany had to accept her indirect responsibility for the tragedies that I just listed (Hazzea, forgive me; No marriage would ever bring them back to life, but if a husband could help end the slaughter, then she owed it to her dead to marry.; “I should’ve gone to Astapor. [...] I am the queen. It was my place to know.”; “What kind of mother has no milk to feed her children?”). I would argue that Dany and Sansa both paid for her mistakes, which were acknowledged, made them suffer and influenced their character developments. But the essayist needs to say that Dany didn’t pay for them (or that she had an easy rise to power) to help to paint her as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

6) Now that the essayist’s five requirements have all been questioned, I would also like to mention positive prophecies and speculations related to Dany that are never brought up in this essay.

First, Dany is AA/PTWP/SWMTW. That was heavily foreshadowed (read more about it here) and built up to and, if it doesn’t happen, it frankly would be bad writing. After all, haven’t readers praised GRRM for the foreshadowing of Ned’s death (e.g., a stag having killed the mother direwolf in the beginning of AGOT)? Haven’t readers praised GRRM for the foreshadowing of the Red Wedding (which we see from Tyrion’s to Theon’s to Dany’s chapters)? And yet, the essayist thinks that Dany’s death will cause “the forces [to] become more even, making victory less sure, or the Others surpass the side of the living in strength” and that “the White Walkers gain Drogon, becoming one-on-one but with the White Walkers having the larger dragon.”

Second, Dany and Bran both have dreams in AGOT leading up to their magical awakening. Bran needs to fly to escape from the “cold” of the darkness below, while Dany needs to run from the “icy breath behind”. Both of these dreams culminate with Bran and Dany learning to fly and accepting their magical destinies, which will be important in the War for the Dawn. And yet, the essayist thinks that “by understanding that the concept of warmth is tied to companionship, we can understand that the cold, “icy breath” must represent the opposite: loneliness” to justify Dany’s demise. Instead, it's clear (especially considering the parallels with Bran) that "icy breath" is an allusion to the Others. But they can't acknowledge that Dany will have a crucial role in the War for the Dawn, otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

Third, Quaithe was presented as the third of the three Qartheen envoys (after Pyat Pree and Xaro) that came to find Dany in Vaes Tolorro, which heavily implies that she breaks the norm and is the one person that Dany can trust. And yet, the essayist takes for granted that Quaithe’s “narrative connection to betrayal is already established”.

Fourth, Dany might as well be the prophesied betrayer, not the one who’s betrayed by three people (after all, she’s already been betrayed by more than three people - Jorah, Mirri, Pyat Pree, Xaro, Brown Ben, the person that gave her the poisoned locusts, etc). It would fit with the pattern of Dany being an active participant in the prophecies rather than a passive one (e.g. Dany is AA/PTWP, not the one who gives birth to the AA/PTWP or the one who dies as a sacrifice to AA/PTWP) even though, at first, the readership is expected to think otherwise. And yet, the essayist takes for granted that Dany will be betrayed because otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

Fifth, Dany is foreshadowed to have a positive relationship with Jon because “the blue flower” from the “wall of ice” filled the air with “sweetness”. And yet, the essayist needs to say that Dany "[will push] Jon away [...] from fear of betrayal and hurt” and from worries that he might be a “usurper” (nevermind that they are mischaracterizing Dany as someone overfocused on retaking the Iron Throne and who closes herself off due to prophecies, none of which are not true, as I already showed above) because otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

7) Finally, I would also like to ask: what’s the point of giving Dany a storyline like this? Not only because it would be unearned due to the double standards and the changes that would have to occur in her characterization, but also because Dany has a special place in the narrative. She is 1) one of the two women (along with Asha) claiming power in her own right and the only one that we actually got to see rule, 2) one of three Chosen Ones (along with Bran and Jon) and the only female one, 3) one of two POV revolutionaries (along with Jon) and the only female one (and the one whose storyline arguably has the most political messages since she’s fighting against human slavery), 4) one of two POV female rulers (along with Cersei) and the only one who’s been depicted as competent (because she subverts the Good Princess Evil Queen dichotomy), 5) one of two Targaryen conquerors (three, if Young Griff does indeed take Westeros) and the only female one - “Aegon the Conqueror with teats”, 6) the only major mother who isn’t sure to be doomed and/or hasn’t gone mad, 7) one of two Targaryen queens regnant (along with Rhaenyra) and the only remaining Targaryen woman who gets to have power after a long line of Targaryen women - Rhaenyra herself, but also Rhaena, Aerea, Rhaella, Daenerys (Alysanne’s daughter), Rhaenys the Queen Who Never Was, Baela, Rhaena of Pentos, Daena - who were disempowered. GRRM already has a terrible history with female leaders in particular. If he causes the downfall of another one (especially one who is also one of the five main protagonists) for such unearned reasons like the ones that the essayist laid out, there would also be sexist implications. It would make the only she-king that we saw wielding power onpage overly defined by violence and destruction in a way kings don't have to be depending on their actions, it makes the only competent POV female ruler look incompetent in comparison to the other POV male rulers and it makes her conquest a disaster while the other male Targaryen conqueror (two, if Young Griff takes Westeros) gets to succeed. And yet, death by childbirth is the only speculation that the essayist calls out as problematic (“death by childbirth is a uniquely biologically female phenomenon and would be punishing Daenerys for her sexuality”).

8) What I find insidious about essays like this one is that they pretend to be unbiased (I do not argue for the death of Daenerys as a judgement on her ethical/moral goodness as a character nor of the world she inhabits. I argue it on the strength of her characterization and story, that she should be able to encompass such intensity and greatness as to be considered as complex as all these other single-name headliners in literature.) even though they really aren't. To recap, the essayist portrays Dany as someone with "violent" impulses even though she's a merciful person in general, accepts the peace deal with the slavers as valid even though it prioritizes the slavers' privileges over the lives of marginalized people, only talks about the negative connotations of fire, downplays Dany's compassion and sense of justice, argues that Dany is losing her ability to trust others even though she isn't, says that Dany is negatively affected by promises of greatness even though she isn't, argues that Dany had an easy rise to power and didn't pay for her mistakes even though she did, paints Dany's campaign to take the Iron Throne in a negative light without doing the same with the Starks having dominance over the North and ignores Dany's foreshadowing as AA/PTWP, as well as her special place in the narrative. So it’s not that Dany stans are unable to accept Dany’s mistakes and flaws, it’s that people who dislike her can’t understand her characterization or acknowledge the double standards against her or accept her particular place in the story. At the end of the day, an essay like this one is no better than jonsa metas mindlessly hating on Dany because, just like them, as @semperty and @niniane17 made clear, it also creates speculations with the intent of making Dany self-destruct and become irrelevant to pave the way for their preferred characters. The only difference is that it's more successful at appearing "neutral" to someone who doesn't remember what happened in the books very well, especially because Dany has become a polarizing character for a variety of reasons and it's easy to buy into the Appeal to Moderation fallacy.

Also, as I said before, the fact that these Twitter 'neutrals' all misunderstand Dany's characterization, downplay her struggles and judge her by different standards actually makes me somewhat hopeful that she's getting a better ending, because how can their speculations come true if they don't know Dany at all? But then, it's hard to trust GRRM.

[mourntheantagonist]

#HarringroveApril Day 16: Nostalgia

***

When Billy signed those discharge papers, piled into his dented Camaro and headed west towards the sunset despite the screaming redhead banging on the windows crying “please don’t go!”, with an aching chest both metaphorical and physical, he didn’t think for a second about looking back.

So how he ended up back in the same shithole he turned his back on ten years ago was entirely beyond him.

He had made a life for himself in California. He got his associates degree at the local community college and worked his way up from a nine to five teller position at the local bank all the way to branch manager, making an upper middle class salary. It was easy work. Boring work, unfulfilling work, but easy and worth every penny. He had a couple of friends, mostly coworkers, more so acquaintances than friends. He had a fancy apartment in the city, he went on dates, though they usually ended in one night stands where the other guy snuck out in the dark hours of the morning leaving Billy to sleep in a bed that was just too big for one person. But he was free from all of those forces in his life that always held him back and pinned him down, and each and every one of those forces just reeked of small town America.

He hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkins since Max had given up on calling around eight years ago, or at least he hoped that she’d given up and something worse hadn’t happened to her. He regretted not answering those calls everyday. The guilt of leaving her behind like that weighed heavy like an anchor, but he did it anyway. Bad decision after bad decision he was surprised he made it to where he had today, and he just wished she’d call again.

But he also wasn’t sure enough of himself that anything would change if she did, and that phone would likely remain on the hook until the ringing stopped and she was left to the sound of his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Billy Hargrove. Leave a message.”

He wasn’t home the day she finally did call, which fortunately took that decision away from him. Her message was tossed in with a mix of telemarketers and employees calling in for days off, it could have easily been dismissed, passed over like every other piece of junk in the system if her voice hadn’t been exactly the same as it was the day he left her.

“Hey Billy, it’s Max. I know you probably don’t give a shit, but Neil died of a heart attack last night…” Billy stopped listening after the words ‘Neil died’ came over the speaker. He had to replay the message to hear the rest because by the time he’d gathered himself it had already ended. “...the funeral is next Saturday in Hawkins. Nobody expects you to come but I thought you should know anyway and that everyone would still like to see you. Call me back at…” Billy wrote the number on the back of a blockbuster receipt and set it flat on the counter quickly with a firm hand and a quick retraction, like it might burn him. Max’s name and a ten digit number below it in a blue ballpoint pen stared back at him and he just drummed his fingers on the counter and bit his lip trying to think everything over.

He looked at it for probably another thirty minutes while the rest of the voicemails cycled through in the background before he decided to make a call of his own. Slowly and shaking, he dialed the phone number and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the sound of the pick up. He was partially hoping that it never came.

But it did. The click sound was followed by a voice that didn’t belong to Max, but one he still recognized.

“Hello?”

Billy took in a deep breath. “Hi. This is Billy.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you actually called.”

Billy huffed and if it had been ten years earlier he would have already hung up the phone by now.

“Who is this?”

“Lucas Sinclair. I take it you want to talk to Max?”

Billy tensed at the mention of her name, as if that hadn’t been the whole plan in the first place. “Yeah,” he said, a little bit of shakiness to his voice, “could you put her on?”

After a few short moments of silence and a little bit of movement in the background, he heard her.

“Hey Billy.” she sounded… glad… and it made Billy let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Hey Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” There was that tone, she hadn’t changed at all.

“Yeah, I know.” There was a pause, Billy twirled the phone cord around this index finger to the point it started going pink and then purple while he tried to get the question to leave the tip of his tongue. “So, he’s really dead?” he asked, blunt as ever.

“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to come for the funeral, but I just thought you should know, and if you need a place to stay you can– hold on one second” Billy could hear muffled bickering and Max yelling ‘Lucas Sinclair’ through clenched teeth and it brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of all those times he’d eavesdrop on her phone calls with him just to piss her off, just to hear her yell at him through their shared wall before she’d chase him around the house. Those were good days. “As I was saying. You can stay here if you need. We have a spare room.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“I really hope you decide to come.”

“We’ll see.” He was just about to hang the phone back up, but he stopped himself, “Hey Max?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice hearing the sound of your voice again.”

Billy wound up taking the week off and driving that same old Camaro, restored back to its former glory, that did the distance twice before, back over to Indiana, to the place he said he’d never go back to, and he really couldn’t figure out the reason why he didn’t just go into work. There was nothing to drive him to go but the weird feeling in his gut that refused to go away until he called in, and a little bit of that pressure was released.

For each freeway exit he came across on the over thousand mile journey he contemplated turning around, getting back on that on-ramp going the other direction and save himself from whatever hell he’d be walking into.

Because that’s what Hawkins was to him. Hell. There were monsters like his father, and then there were real, legitimate monsters as well and Billy wasn’t safe from either of them, well he was safe from one now. He couldn’t imagine why Max decided to stay in the shithole and not get out like he did.

Maybe that’s what makes him the coward.

The welcome to Hawkins sign gave him chills. He remembered seeing that for the first time, following behind the rickety Uhaul pulled by their beat up truck when Billy decided not to follow them into their next turn, and instead got lost on the “scenic route” of Hawkins which really meant “trees, trees, and more trees” when he hit the Quarry’s dead end and nearly went off the cliff into the water below.

At the time he might’ve thought it would have been better if he had.

A lot of things had looked to have changed about the town since the last time he saw it. Places that he remembered being nothing but vast forests now had neighborhoods and restaurant chains and the place that once had a natural canopy was now completely deforested and exposed to the sun.

But the Quarry was exactly the same as he left it.

From the beer cans crushed and scattered, to the sounds of gravel pieces bouncing up and chipping the paint on his car.

The continuities continued to add up when he stepped foot out of the car, pulling on that same old denim jacket he hadn’t worn in years after trading it in for a suit and tie. His boot hit the gravel path just like it always had, with that same stomp that demanded attention, like each time he got out of that car he had to play into the dramatics, put on the mask and play the part he chose for himself. The breeze and the smell, it was all the same as before, as if the industrialization just several blocks north hadn’t had any effects on this little corner of the town where the birds still sang their songs in harmony and the smell of nature was pungent. It felt like no time had passed at all.

But it had been the sound of a rumbling BMW rolling down the crushing gravel that made him feel exactly like he was back in highschool again, the same rotten kid who used fists as forms for problem solving, the kid who as an adult had worked on his impulsivity, standing there, staring up the gentle slope with his fists clenched so tight his fingernails left marks on his palms. All that work, all that progress he thought he’d gone through, thrown straight out the window at just the mere sight of something from his past.

The BMW pulled up beside him, and the quarry apparently wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Steve still had the same big swooped back hair and that same exact look on his face when they made eye contact through the passenger window, the same exact look he had the day he told him he was leaving, and screamed at him to get out of his hospital room.

That was the last time they spoke.

Steve got out of the car without a word and just leaned against the door, looking him up and down, and Billy didn’t feel like he had any right to say the first word, considering he’d had the last one.

“It’s good to see you Billy.” Steve broke the silence, and it was almost startling, with both the sudden change of volume, and the sound of that voice he’d almost forgotten singing in his head like a song he didn’t remember learning the lyrics to.

“Is it?” Because it felt like it was all just a formality coming out of his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting an answer to that, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve changed the subject. It was oddly refreshing seeing Steve write the script this time, steering the conversation his way.

“Looks like we both kept our old wheels,” he said, slapping the top of his car twice, maybe a little too hard. The sound of a hand against metal echoed through the trees. “though there’s not as many dents from what I remember.”

“I had it restored.”

The majority of Steve’s body was hidden behind the car that separated the two of them, but he could see in the way that his shoulders moved that his hands had found his own hips, doing that same stance of a mother who just caught their kid in the act of something naughty. “Some good memories happened in that car.”

“Some bad ones too. Or do I need to remind you how the dents got there in the first place?” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, as if the thousand pound chunk of metal that served as a barrier wasn’t enough to protect him. Because it felt like Steve could see directly through him with the way his head tilted when Billy threw his words back at him. Because they both knew that it was horseshit. Memories of whatever happened between Steve and the Camaro existed only in the dents that remained and the neck pain that still lingered. He didn’t actually hold any grudge about that, and he never did.

Because Steve was right. There had been good memories in that car, some he didn’t remember until seeing him again, some that still played in his mind when he went to sleep at night. Maybe that was the reason he kept it around for so long, that one piece that contained all of those few good times, all of those times with Steve.

“You were always so good at that.”

“What?”

“Deflecting. Pushing people away.”

Billy opened his mouth to defend himself, but there was nothing that came out but his own breath, but Steve filled that silence anyway before Billy would have even had the opportunity to speak.

“You cut your hair.”

It was like he was being interrogated.

“Company policy, they practically had to strap me down and take the clippers to my head themselves.”

Steve actually laughed, and it seemed genuine at least. Billy pulled out the pack of red that he always kept on the seat like it was muscle memory. His hands would only ever stop shaking when he had that little stick between his fingers, and they were only shaking more since Steve got out of that car.

“You still smoke?”

Billy put the cigarette in between his lips and lit up, pausing for a nice drag before bothering to answer Steve. Just letting his eyes fall shut and experience just a short moment of relaxation.

“Some old habits never die”

Steve pursed his lips. Every single one of his mannerisms were exactly the same. This one meant that he wanted to say something that he didn’t know if he should.

“Was I just an old habit too?”

“Steve–”

Steve just kicked the side of his car with his knee, sure to leave a dent of his own. The sound was loud enough that the consistent stream of chirping birds transformed into a cascade of flapping wings as the birds on the trees flew away from the scene. He walked around to the front of his car and the physical object that once created separation was gone, and suddenly Steve was within reach and he couldn’t breathe.

“Glad to know it’s harder to quit nicotine than it was to quit me!”

Billy chucked his lit cigarette at the ground and scuffed it with his heel into the gravel. “Who told you it was easy?!” He had a finger pointed to Steve and had closed their distance a few feet more, less than an arms length apart from each other.

“You left!”

“Because I had to! You know I did!”

“You didn’t have to leave me!” Steve practically screamed that final word, his face was now just inches away from Billy’s and he was nearly foaming at the mouth and from an outsider's perspective, Steve looked about two seconds from either kissing him, or killing him.

He did neither. He took a step back and recollected himself with a dramatic clearing of his throat. “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“And you don’t think I regret that every fucking day of my life?” Billy’s voice broke, trembling throughout the sentence like he was containing a ticking time bomb. “Why are you even here?”

Steve just rolled his eyes at the steer. “Max sent me.”

“Of course she fucking did.”

“She cares about you y’know.” Billy scoffed, because how could she? After all he did to her? He could still hear those palms banging against those windows and her muffled screams for her to stay every time he got into that car. “Why are you here?”

“Did she not tell you the part where my dad died?”

“I know damn well you didn’t come all this way to pay your respects.”

Billy let himself drop to the ground and sit on the rough terrain with his back against his tire, unable to continue standing, his legs were ready to betray him.

“I have no idea why I’m here, okay? I just am.”

Steve nodded his head, and he didn’t say anything, no quip back in his face, he just followed Billy to the ground.

“Are you upset he’s gone?”

Billy let out a groan and tried to rub the growing migraine from his temples.

“I’m feeling a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘upset’ is one of them.” Neither of them said anything after that. They just sat there on the ground and enjoyed the silence together like they used to do. Looking up at the clouds and arguing over what shape they were. There’d be none of that today though, and it had nothing to do with the overcast skies. “You still keep a six pack in your trunk?”

Steve laughed and got up from where he was seated and popped the trunk. He was right. Some old habits never fucking die.

Steve tossed a can over to Billy and sat back down on the gravel, maybe a little closer than he had been before. Billy took a long swig and swallowed the bitter taste down. He hadn’t drank much since he was a teenager, he traded in his Coors for Cola and he doesn’t understand how he used to enjoy the taste of it before.

“Why did you stay in Hawkins?”

Steve dug his heel and pushed a pile of rocks forward, kicking a plume of dust into the air.

“Nobody ever gave me a reason to leave.”

Billy wanted to ask if he would have even come with him had he asked him to. But he opted against it, instead just taking another drink from the can and a genuine “I’m sorry.” passed his lips.

“You know I followed you?”

“What?”

“Yup. Made it all the way to St. Louis before I turned around.”

Billy was just staring at him at this point, unsure if he’d just heard him right. He just sat there with his mouth agape, catching flies and waiting for Steve to say more.

“I knew that you needed to go. I knew that you were hurting and it took me almost ten hours on the open road to realize that you needed time to heal.” Steve’s eyes looked glossy and his cheeks flushed but he kept his smile on. “So I came back home, and I waited here for you to come back. I wanted to make myself easy to find when you needed me.”

“You waited for me?”

Steve inched his hand over to where Billy’s was propping himself up and let his fingers gently trace the back of his hand. Steve’s touch was everything. It made his heart start racing and his palms start sweating and it felt just like 1985 all over again.

Billy took Steve’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers together and Billy let out a long exhale as they did.

“Billy,” Steve said softly, scooting his body just a little bit closer, less than a foot of separation now between the two of them, and he looked Billy in the eyes. Billy had almost gotten entirely lost in those pools of deep brown before Steve had the chance to speak again. But he heard it, loud and clear. “I’m still waiting for you.”

He waited.

Waited ten fucking years.

Billy wasn’t going to make him sit there and wait for a kiss too.

Billy closed the distance at the moment the penny dropped, sinking all of his weight into the kiss in a frantic and uneven pace just like they were eighteen again trying to squeeze both of their bodies into the backseat of the Camaro, refusing for even a second to separate themselves from the one point of contact that sealed them together like glue. The kiss felt just like their first. In the same spot, instead under the stars and the two of them both drunk off their asses, and that time Billy tasted of only blood and liquor.

But it was that same feeling. That desire to never pull away, that fear that it would end and that it would be the last time. He had that fear with everyone of Steve and his kisses, that each one might just be their last.

So he made a point to savor all of them.

They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore. Out of breath with swollen lips and an inability stop the smiles that peeked through every couple of seconds. They sat there with their foreheads touching and their clasped hands still intact, relishing in the heat that was each other’s breath on their faces. Billy was crying, just streams of tears paired with a smile that Steve gently wiped away with his thumb, the brush of contact making him shiver.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

Steve cradled Billy’s head in his hands and peppered a few short kisses to his lips.

“I missed you too.”

“You think this is why Max invited me here?” Billy asked. “I can’t imagine she’d actually think I would want to come to this thing.”

Steve laughed. “No. She’s not an idiot. She figured you’d want to crash the funeral.”

Billy immediately got up from his place on the ground and held his other hand out for Steve to grab onto. “Well you wanna join me while I go piss on my old man’s grave?”

Steve took his hand without hesitation and let Billy pull him up off the ground.

“It would be my honor.”

Hawkins made a lot of bad memories for Billy, most of which he locked somewhere far away, but the good still remained. Right there in the look on Steve’s face with the way he looked back at him.

And he was happy to make a couple more.

[xyixxesx]

Tattoos Together | i.y.

pairing: yuji itadori x reader

Summary: you and yuji make a slightly impulsive decision. 

word count: 765

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.

There wasn’t anything in Yuji’s life that compared to downtime with one of his favorite people. The two of you were cuddled up in bed together, sharing a set of headphones and introducing one another to different kinds of music that the other had never heard before. 

When your turn was up and you played Tattoos Together for him, not only did he really enjoy the song, it also inspired one of the most impulsive decisions that the two of you had ever made, together and individually. 

“Hey,” he spoke up in the middle of the next song with a smile that was gradually getting bigger by the second. You looked up from the cover of your journal that you were casually doodling and he finished out the thought. “what if you and I got tattoos together? Wouldn’t that be incredible?”

His smile was huge and extremely contagious, much like his happiness normally was, so it was with an equally broad smile that you returned, “Really?”

“Sure! Why not? I’ve already got a million ideas!”

Your eyes narrowed as you tried to gage how serious he was about this impetuous idea. There wasn’t a single sign in sight that led you to believe that he was joking, but just in case he was, you decided to run with it and see how far you got.

You opened the notebook and flipped to a new sheet before handing it over to him as well as the black ink pen. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

When the two of you slipped some shoes on the next day to head to the tattoo parlor that you handpicked for it’s stellar reviews, Nobara and Megumi packed themselves in the car right along with the two of you. They caught wind of the brilliant idea the two of you had and wanted to see if the plan would actually be seen through. 

Nobara had a couple of bills in her pocket that said that Yuji wasn’t that stupid and that the two of you would back out as soon as the artists pulled out their needles.

Megumi was already thinking about what he would spend Nobara’s money on because he knew very good and well that Yuji was stupid enough to follow through with something so impulsive and rash. That didn’t stop him, though, from trying to be the responsible voice of reason once the two of you were sitting in the chairs. 

“Aren’t you two being sort of hasty?” He asked. Whether the two of you got tattoos or not really didn’t matter to him, it wasn’t his body and no one was asking him to get any ink, but what if things didn’t end up working up? What if you split and had nothing to do with one another besides the permanent reminder of each other etched into your skin? He imagined it would be burdensome and he wouldn’t be the one to listen to Yuji’s incessant crying and whining if the two of you did split and the tattoo served as a painful reminder of what the two fo you once had. For Christ’s sake, he’d end up punching him.

“Seriously,” Nobara added on. She was unsure of why Megumi was saying something that wouldn’t help him win the bet, but she definitely wasn’t complaining. The greater her odds looked, the better. “I mean I definitely wouldn’t follow through with it. What if the two of you don’t even make it that far together?”

Realistically, it should have been something that you considered beforehand, but the idea of you and Yuji not making it wasn’t a thought that lived anywhere near your mind. A life without Yuji? how would that even come about? The two of you cared an unbelievable amount for one another, the loyalty was undying on both ends, and the two of you had unspoken vows to always take care of and protect one another. A life without the other just wasn’t in the cards, it was never considered, and yeah, life happened sometimes, but the two of you were just different. 

You didn’t know how to answer the question so you looked her in her eyes, shrugged, and simply said, “Meh, it’s fine.” 

Yuji misinterpreted your response and was about to send himself into a downward spiraling panic. “Uh...” he offered you a nervous smile and scratched at the back of his neck. “we are gonna make it, though... aren’t we?”

You gave him a reassuring smile that melted his heart and warmed his insides. “Of course we are. Hand me the journal.”

[mytearsrricochet]

100 unique questions to ask

i sat down and told my brain to come up with 100 unique questions (some more unique than others ok). send me some if u want :)

 if you could pierce somewhere other than your ears, where would it be?

if you could be in a movie franchise (already made or a book that should be made into a movie), which would it be?

what are your feelings on bangs?

what is your favorite blanket material?

who is the last person you were mad at?

if you had to be sent up into space or into the depths of the ocean, where would you choose?

if you acquired an island, what would you name it?

are you afraid of death? why or why not?

what astrological sign do you think you should be?

who is the worst person you have ever dated?

if you could remake one movie the way you think it should’ve been made, which movie would you choose?

if you had to be a teletubby, which one would you be?

what are your feelings on caillou?

what is a custom/activity/experience/etc from another culture that you wish would be in your culture?

if you could choose where you were born, where would you want it to be?

if someone told you they could tell you the truth about god/religion/higher powers/the universe/the meaning of life/what happens after death, would you want to know?

what is your favorite part of your nighttime routine? sleep doesn’t count.

what is your favorite form of exercise?

what is one current trend that you hate?

what is a trend that died that you would bring back?

what era of fashion do you wish to bring back?

what is one movie or tv show that everyone loves that you hate?

what is a question you have always wanted to ask but haven’t? why haven’t you asked it?

did you have a teacher growing up that helped you through a difficult time? who were they?

think of a paper you have written sometime in your education. what was the topic?

do you believe in universal healthcare? discuss.

what is one song that makes you feel like love is real?

what is one song that makes you feel like you’re dancing in a meadow with the sun shining on your skin?

what is one song that makes you believe that things will get better?

have you met any celebrities? if so, who?

you’re being forced to move out of your country. you must choose another one to move to, and you may never leave it, even for vacation. what country do you choose? bonus points if you answer the city.

do you believe in the death penalty? discuss.

what do you think happens after you die?

name someone you love.

name someone you like, but don’t necessarily love.

how many soulmates do you think a person has?

what would you say was your sexual awakening?

is love always worth it? discuss.

pick up your phone. look at the text you sent closest to an hour ago. what was it?

do you believe in magical beings? discuss.

what time of the day do you feel most at peace with yourself?

choose one song. now choose someone else to sing it. what’s the song, and who is the new singer of said song? why?

have you ever cheated? on a person, on a test, in a game? why or why not?

what is an impulsive decision you have made that you don’t regret?

if you were given the opportunity to completely start your life over from the beginning with everything prior and up until your birth remaining the same, would you?

how do you feel about greek life in colleges?

what is an aspect or event in history that you were obsessed with as a child?

what would your wardrobe look like if you weren’t so afraid of being who you want to be?

describe your ideal town to live in.

what age are you scared to be? alternatively, what age were you most scared to be in the past?

do you have a secret you want to share? be as vague or specific as you want. get it out. if you want.

do billionaires work harder than other people? discuss.

if you had the means to start a charity, what would it be a charity for?

what is your favorite hairstyle for yourself?

what is your favorite memory from being 13 years old?

what is a movie that shaped who you were as a person at a young age?

which us state would you erase if you could?

what is a skill you theoretically want to learn but probably never will?

what is an obscure language you want to speak?

you are put in a dangerous situation where you have to fend for yourself. what is your weapon of choice? why?

what is a place you choose not to go to anymore? why?

do you think you’re living a fake life/putting on a facade/lying to people about who you really are? why or why not?

what is the color that defines your life? why?

you have the opportunity to go to an exclusive celebrity event. which one is it? (award shows, premieres, parties, etc)

you can bring back one person from the dead, but you must choose someone to die in their place. who are the two people you are choosing?

what is your favorite fun fact that people don’t really know?

pick up the nearest reading material to you (book/magazine/paper/etc). what is the first line of that reading material?

if you had to choose a sport to play professionally, which one would you choose?

what is the worst way someone has betrayed you?

what do you do to unwind/cool down when you’re upset?

what is the color scheme of your favorite sunrise or sunset?

what is a beauty product you swear by?

how do you feel about plastic surgery? discuss.

if you could get plastic surgery, would you? what would you change?

cotton balls or cotton rounds?

what is your favorite animal product?

what is one job that isn’t really around anymore that you would want to do?

if you lived in 1550, what would your life be like? make a character for yourself, but be honest about what it would actually be like.

if you had to attend school in another country, which country would you choose?

what will be/was the color scheme of your wedding?

is there something you have a really strong opinion about for basically no reason? what is it?

who is a person you would fight to the death for under any circumstances?

what would you do if you were in the hunger games? be honest.

what time do you think everyone should wake up?

what is your favorite type of nut? if you’re allergic to nuts, sorry.

what is your favorite part of your hometown?

you must get rid of one of your electronic items. you have no choice. which one do you sacrifice?

what is a conspiracy theory that you genuinely believe in? make it interesting please.

what is the first memory you have of oppression/discrimination? it doesn’t have to be about yourself.

what is one song from the 80s that still goes so hard?

what is a lyric that you hate? why do you hate it?

name 3 books you were forced to read in school.

how do you keep track of events/deadlines? calendar? agenda? your brain?

what is the first book that made you cry that comes to mind?

if you had to give a seminar about something, what would it be about?

how do you feel about your mother?

is makeup an art form? discuss.

what kind of videos do you primarily watch on youtube?

what is the scent of your deodorant?

at what age do you hope you die?

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Jayson, part One

Rating: SFW Length: 1690 Pairing: Male Croc Lizardman x Male Reader (both cis)

xxx

It’s Latin night at the local community centre, and you’re not sure if the earth is shaking or if it’s just your nerves. It’s your turn to dance with Jayson tonight, the handsome crocodilian lizardman who’s been the centre of attention since your dance classes began. He’s experienced at all sorts of dances, more agile than you’d expect for someone almost eight feet tall, and he’s been sweeping the little old ladies right off their feet—sometimes literally.

You’d initially joined the yoga classes held at the centre, but the time slots didn’t line up with the dance classes, so you never saw head or tail of the lizardman before the night poor old Mr. Grims slipped a disc doing an advanced pose at the end of the session. You decided to stick around with him until the ambulance came, keeping him company until he was loaded up and carted away from the centre towards the hospital a few blocks away.

That’s when Jayson approached you, coffee held in a delicate pincer grip in one hand and speakers held in the other, to ask you what had happened. He had deep green scales and brilliant golden-green eyes, with a body that looked like he could bench you in his sleep. He had a ready smile when he introduced himself to you, and the sympathy in his voice when he learned of Mr. Grim’s accident sounded sincere.

It was no surprise that you gravitated to the event hall after yoga let out that night, and what you saw made you wonder why you’d never considered dancing before. People of all ages and species crowded into the event hall, swing dancing at all skill levels and laughing throughout. It looked fun, and of course Jayson was at the centre of it all, bopping and weaving through the dancers and calling out encouragement and playful critiques. He was one of the instructors, you realised, and on impulse, you signed up for the next week’s class.

Flexibility, you quickly learned after Mrs. MacDougall bent you backwards over her knee, was invaluable in Jayson’s dance class. You thanked your lucky stars that you had decided to take yoga first, or you think you would have ended up in Mr. Grim’s place. Each week, you dance to a different genre, though Jayson always finds a way to put a spin on it. Last week you learned the choreography that Jayson and his fellow instructor Lindsa put together to Doja Cat’s Boss Bitch, which starred some impressive ballet on Lindsa’s behalf. They each pick a different dancer to give special instruction to each week, and this time, it’s your turn to be what feels like the sole focus of the big reptilian man you’ve developed a weak-kneed crush on. When the trumpets start blaring in Ilegales’ song Como Un Trueno, you almost jump out of your skin, and judging by the way Jayson laughs, he’d noticed.

“Alright, from the top!” Jayson calls, his gravelly voice warm and rough with amusement. “Loosen up, Ilario. Greta, sweetheart, go easy on him.”

“He’d better keep up!” Mrs. MacDougall says instead, earning herself a rare laugh from Lindsa on the other side of the room. You watch with sympathy as she drags the aforementioned man out onto the dance floor, looking more like a prisoner gamely meeting his end at the gallows than a willing dance partner.

“Ready?” Jayson asks you, and you wonder how you ever took your eyes off the charismatic reptile.

“As I’ll ever be,” you say, smiling cheerfully up at Jayson and taking his proffered hand.

“You’re shaking like a leaf,” Jason laughs, his feet starting to move along with the serpentine motions of his hips.

“I can’t help it,” you reply around a laugh of your own, following his lead and allowing him to dance you around the room. “I’m nervous.”

“Nervous?” Jayson eyes you incredulously. “You?”

“Yes, me! Everyone’s looking at us.”

“I’m an instructor,” Jayson preens, his pride in his position making you smile again. “They have to look at me.”

“Well, yeah,” you say, concentrating very hard on not stepping on the larger man’s feet. “You’re hard to look away from.”

Jayson grins at this slip. “Am I?”

You curse your distracted tongue, but you don’t regret having this conversation. Yet. “Oh, definitely,” you shoot back, and the smug gleam in Jayson’s eyes makes you want to swat him and kiss him all at once. “You’re so big, how could I miss you?”

“Larger than life, baby,” Jayson replies, picking up the pace and twirling you like a top around him. You’re a little dizzy by the time he urges you into another set of moves, pliable with disorientation and the thrill of letting such a big man take control of your body and manhandle you however he likes. “Just let it happen,” he says in your ear, and he clears a space in the hall for you two to take centre stage.

His hands on your waist are the only warning you get before you’re airborne, your body weaving over his shoulders and between his legs in a way that makes your head spin. You somehow manage to make your feet keep moving when they find their way to the floor again, though it isn’t long before you’re twirled and spun and tossed this way and that. The feel of his muscles through his clothing is a sensation that you’ll not soon forget, and his hands feel like brands wherever they touch, hot and huge and capable. You’ve never trusted someone this implicitly with your safety, and the thrill is enough to leave you breathless.

The song ends in a sharp crescendo of brass and with your body dipped between Jayson’s muscular thighs. Your heart is pounding so hard that you barely hear the applause from the other dancers, your chest heaving and your eyes locked on Jayson’s handsome face. “You okay down there?” he asks, and you want to swat him all over again.

“Thinking I should have worn anything but sweatpants,” you quip back, drawing his eyes down to your erection between you. He straightens and manages to discreetly shield you with his bulk as you rearrange yourself. Jayson seamlessly draws attention to himself and critiques dancers nearby, moving to adjust positions and laughingly reminding others to be more careful of their partners’ feet.

You move away to hide, hydrate, and watch Jayson work the room, so you miss the way that Lindsa weaves toward you until she’s leaning against the wall beside you, asking, “You and Jay-Sun, huh?”

You nearly jump out of your skin. As it is, the water in your mouth goes the completely wrong direction, and you have to accept her help pounding it out of your lungs. “Me and what?” you choke out, eyes watering.

“Oh, don’t jerk me around,” Lindsa says with a sharp smirk, tawny eyes gleaming. She’s unnaturally beautiful even for a harpy, with sandy yellow feathers that match her hair and wide, egg-bearing hips. She’s canny and clever, and though she’s a good and patient teacher, there’s a ruthlessness about her that makes you feel as though you’d be hunted before you’d be courted.

You frown. “I guess,” you say with a shrug. “I like him. What of it?”

“He’ll want to date you,” Lindsa replies without ceremony, idly preening her wing feathers and watching you with unblinking eyes. “I happen to like the guy. Hurt him, and I’ll read your entrails for filth.”

This exchange leaves you entirely flabbergasted—so much so that you spend the rest of class distracted by your thoughts. Jayson notices, and his personality turns up to 11. You find it hard not to smile at his antics and his peacocking amuses you, though you catch Lindsa eyeing you both more often than not for the rest of the session. At the end of the class, Jayson makes a beeline for you and you struggle not to flee under his almost predatory gaze, standing your ground and smiling up at him.

“What’s going on?” he asks without preamble, resting a hand on the wall high above your head. “You’ve been out of your head since we first danced. Did Lindsa get hold of you?”

Your smile falls, and you feel more than a little exposed. Were you that easy to read? “Am I that obvious?” you ask, laughing nervously.

“Hardly,” says Jayson, grinning widely and displaying all his sharp teeth. “More like she’s about as subtle as a brick to the head. She threaten you?”

You nod, speechless.

Jayson snorts and shouts, “Lindsa!” over his shoulder, earning himself a cool look from the intimidating harpy. “Stay out of my love life!”

“I will when you make good decisions,” Lindsa drawls back, and you frown. Are you not a good choice?

Jayson shakes his head, dismissing her and turning his attention back to you. “Don’t listen to the old bird.”

“I’ll turn you into a handbag, Sunny,” Lindsa says without lifting her eyes from the gym bag she’s packing. “And a new pair of boots.”

“As if any part of me could handle those thighs,” Jayson scoffs, waving his hand and smiling down at you. “Like I said, don’t listen to her. She’s just protective of me because I’m younger. Are you free this weekend?”

“Um, yeah,” you say, caught off guard by the banter between the pair and looking between them with something like wariness. Was this going to be an issue?

Jayson notices your unease and leans in close enough that you can look into his eyes and smell his cologne, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “Hey,” he murmurs. “It’s really not a big deal. She does this to everyone I wanna date. Just ignore it and focus on me. Can you do that for me?”

The way he seems to have eyes only for you brings you out of the mire of your thoughts, and you find yourself smiling up at Jayson all over again. “Yeah,” you say. “I can.”

Jayson grins, and you’re surprised to find that lizardmen can have dimples. “Perfect.”

[focsle]

For the world building questions—

1, 4 for Ezra, and 9 if I may!

Thank you!

1. Tell a bit about a main protagonist and a main antagonist? If your story doesn’t really have “good guys and bad guys”, tell about two characters with opposing viewpoints!

The story revolves mostly around Lawrence, Ezra, and Barzillai as characters, who all have a different relationship to the industry. Lawrence is a greenhand who’s being a bit impulsive and self destructive in signing aboard, and views his decision very much as ‘it’s either free passage to Hawaii where I can ditch OR it’ll kill me and either option is fine.’ Ezra is a career whaler with ambitions towards a captaincy. He‘d say his involvement in the work is to support his mother and sister, which is true (but frankly isn’t necessarily the BEST way to do that), but there’s also a personal need to create something that’s his own in a significant way, and he sees a captaincy as being that thing. Barzillai’s also a career whaler and a captain but he’s wearying of what the industry makes of him, especially with the presence of his wife Adelaide on board that’s…personally weighing on his conscience and the decisions he’s made. He wants to extricate himself from the whole business and have a life ashore but feels like he’s unable to. Very much caught between the person he feels like he has to be vs the person he would like to be.

The antagonist I call a ‘ghost’ but it was never a person. It’s an entity that’s been along for who knows how long, made by violence and satiated by violence and it has a particular connection with Barzillai. It functions as a metaphor for the industry to some capacity, but it’s also just a…Spooky Mangled Wound Man…or Wound Whale, sometimes.. The monster’s a Metaphor but also it’s a straight up Monster and it’s here to have a Good Time.

4. What are some of Ezra’s hobbies or interests? He sees a big appeal in worldliness—that was one of perks of the job for him was seeing new places and people. Very into trying new food. He’s a bit of an artist in that he does a fair amount of scrimshaw and he likes singing too. Makes up songs for people depending on the circumstance. He also likes a good prank here and there—will harvest everyone else’s practical jokes for future use.

9. Can you list some traits you have in common with your cast? How about things that are completely different?

Lawrence is probably the most like me…soft-handed landsman who doesn’t know shit about boats but initially romanticizes the idea of them in a brooding ‘woe is me guess I’ll go to sea’ way. Has a bit of a sardonic / sarcastic sense of humor. Is quite cordial with people but is also emotionally guarded and tends towards being secretive about his personal life. Writes silly little play scripts he thinks are kind of embarrassing. Yeah. Difference…I’m not as ambitious as Ezra nor am I comfortable in leadership / mentoring positions (and when I find myself in them I have Big Imposter Syndrome whereas Ezra is pretty self assured in his ability). I’m not sharp with people like Barzillai is and I always would like people to consider me approachable whereas Barzillai’s main aim of how he wants to be viewed by people, with the exception of Adelaide, is to be someone people are afraid to cross / approach for Trivial Matters.

[fandaynenotes]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗩𝗶𝗿𝗴𝗼 (𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀)

𝗔/𝗡: Sorry for being gone for too long. I hope you missed TOFV as much as I do. Here is chapter four!

YN refers to “your name,” you / YN refers to the song titled after you

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

FOUR

When you asked Irene about a nice gift idea, she immediately thought it was for Park Jinyoung, however, you were beyond clueless that it was his birthday the other day. 

You haven’t received any reply from him after that impulsive decision of sending him the message on the second win, when the plan was you were supposed to send him a message on the third win of YN. The third win happened but it’s you who did not wait for the sign. 

Today is the 24th of September and it has been weeks. Thoughts about Jinyoung were set aside because you have to face another challenge today. 

At first, you hesitated to attend your aunt Hyo Jin’s birthday party because you will surely be meeting your aunt Ye Jin and her presence annoys the hell out of you. But it’s your Papa Ji who handed you the invitation from your aunt Hyo Jin and asked you to come with him. 

The party was held in one of the famous hotels in town. You arrived with your Papa Ji and was welcomed by Hyo Jin herself. At 41, she could still pass as one of those models for the skin care products ads under the business she owns with her sister Ye Jin. 

You like Hyo Jin and she loves you as her “niece” but Ye Jin, on the other hand, seems jealous of the relationship you have with his brother. 

Ji Sung, or Papa Ji as you call him, was your biological father’s best friend. When your father died in an accident a couple of months before you were born, your Papa Ji became a constant figure with you and your mom. He was basically your dad growing up.

Even when your mom got sick and after she died, he was always there beside you – a real family member, indeed.

A month after your mom died, he wrote and signed his death will, having you as his sole heir. This was of course not likened by her sister, Ye Jin. When Ye Jin started the rumor that your mom and his brother had an affair, she planted the bane in your peaceful relationship with their family.

The truth was your Papa Ji loved your mom but did not pursue to push further being more than a friend as respect to his late best friend. 

 ...

You were anxious while waiting for the program to start. Thinking about how Ye Jin could make you feel miserable tonight as she was for you for the last five years. But she was out of sight, so you asked Ji Sung about her, only to find out that she went to an overseas trip. Sad for her she missed her younger sister’s party, you thought finding it funny that you were worrying the whole time for nothing.

A staff approach you and told you that your aunt Hyo Jin wants you to join her at the waiting room. 

She was having her makeup retouch when you got in the room. You have also noticed that she had a changed of dress for the third time now. The first one was a beige sheer long-sleeved dress, then a black cocktail dress, and now she is wearing a white puff sleeve dress.

“You called for me?” you asked.

“I just want to have a quick catch up with my darling niece,” she said while delicately holding your hand and one of your cheeks with her other hand. She was smiling like she really missed you. “It’s been a long time since we last saw each other, YN.”

“How have you been?” she asked.

If you were the talkative type, you could have told her about the Jackson Wang feature that your team slayed. Having this big feature, altogether with the photoshoots, done in less than two weeks. The initial prints for the next issue being made are set for proofreading. All of that went smoothly. 

But you just answered her question vaguely in eight words. 

“Well, there’s nothing exciting going on except my job,” you said unsure if she would take that for an answer.

“I think we should do a spa day next time so we could catch up longer,” she was really eager to know more things.

“That’s a great idea!” you quickly replied. “Hope our schedules meet. We’re both busy. But you really need a day to relax. You should not be overworking yourself, auntie.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one to tell you that?” Hyo Jin said. “You work even on weekends!”

“But my job calls for that and I love my job,” you said.

“I believe you,” she replied looking at you smiling like you bring so much joy to her.

"Send your Papa Ji a message to come here. I want to take photos with you two,” she requested. “It’s a special day for me, I want my family to join me in pictures.” 

You belong to the family that was what she meant and that warmly touched your heart. You felt being loved.

 ...

After a good 10 minutes of having your photos taken, Ji Sung found an excuse for Hyo Jin to let the two of you go.

“Excuse us, Hyo Jin! But I want to introduce YN to someone from your guests while the party hasn’t started. If you don’t mind?” Ji Sung said.

“I would say you’re interrupting our aunt-niece time but I don’t mind at all. You can take her. Introduce her to people!” You thought she is crazy for saying that. 

“See you later, auntie. By the way, you look so pretty,” you told her.

“Thank you! I’m almost done here but we’re still waiting for a few guests. Enjoy the party!” Hyo Jin said.

As soon as Ji Sung close the door of Hyo Jin’s waiting room, you immediately asked him who is this someone he wants you to meet.

“I’m not sure if you have already met this son of a friend of mine,“ he said. “He’s of the same age as you and if my memory serves me right, he finished his studies in China and has worked with an entertainment company there.” 

“And why do you want me to get acquainted with this guy?” you asked as a follow-up question.

“Both of you kind of play in the same field and you know, he’s quite charming.” Your Papa Ji is grinning like there is something more to what he meant. You gave him that sarcastic look and he just snorts at you.

“We sort of ran into each other earlier by the bar and I immediately recognized him. How disrespectful of this kid to ask about you right away when I’m the one in front of him?” he kids. 

You knew who he was talking about. “What’s. With. The. Hair?” You whispered to Ji Sung being slightly taken a back by this guy.

The guy in a black blazer and dark washed denim pants with a long and pretty messy hairstyle turned around, flashed you a smile, and greeted you “YN! It’s nice to see you again!”

𝗔/𝗡: I'm so happy that I was able to update this after almost a year. Thank you for reading! See you on the next chapter.

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

[purpletaecup]

6 ☾ these echoes of laughter fade into a distant memory

note: fully written chapter again this time, with social media half chapters coming later this week! this chapter is mainly Yoongi and we see a little bit of his side and how he felt in the past and how he feels in the present. not edited, wanted to post this before the concert so we can all cry together!

rlly important note: i suggest you guys listen to nineteen by hayley williams because i basically base this whole story off that song (and some chinese webnovels i read lmfao). It’s one of my favorite songs ever and it hurts a whole lot. I wish i could experience how I felt when I listened to it for the first time again. As always, feel free to vent/rant and tell me your theories about how the story is going to go! let’s cry together :’)

final note: IM SORRYYY FOR THISSSS don’t hate me pleaseee 

word count: 2,523

That night, Yoongi slept in your hospital room. The emotional weight of everything that had happened had kept him nailed to the chair beside your bed. The smell of the air after the rain permeated into the room and reminded him of the day that his lawyer delivered the divorce papers to you, who was alone at home and probably waiting for him. Looking back at it, maybe it was an impulse decision that he made due to the frustration and exhaustion that your marriage caused him. He grew weary and waking up in the morning felt like a chore. You were distant, he was distant and both of you were living lives going in different directions. But you loved each other, and for a while, he thought that could be enough. Evidently, it wasn’t. He doesn’t regret the divorce because in the end, he thought he was doing what was best for the both of you. He knew how tired you were and how you felt being around the people in his life. He felt the same way with the people in yours. Everything about your lives clashed and he thought that divorce was the best solution for both of you to become happy again. He wasn’t getting any younger, but you were still very young and you could still find someone who could love and cherish you better than he could.

He didn’t regret it.

He didn’t.

Or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. He didn’t regret it. He couldn’t regret it. But remembering how you looked when he came home that night breaks his heart to pieces. Your pale and shivering figure crying by the front door and the way your trembling hands shook him off when he tried to help you up. It was a sight that would remain ingrained in his mind and his heart forever. When you two finally made it inside your house to sit on the couch, he fully expected you to shout and scream and throw a tantrum about the divorce papers. He did not expect the quiet sobs that wracked your figure, or the broken “why are you doing this?” and finally the resignation in your voice when you told him you’d sign it. He remembered, at that moment, that he began crying too. He walked over and sat next to you and took you in his arms like you were his whole world even though he knew he had just ruined yours. With his head buried in your damp hair and neck, he whispered a million apologies. Sorry for breaking your heart. Sorry for wasting your time. Sorry for not knowing how to love you properly. Sorry for not trying.

These apologies meant nothing to you. They were nothing compared to the pain you had endured to be with him, to love him. He didn’t know that. For the last months of your relationship, he didn’t know who you were and that’s what pushed him to get the divorce. You were a shell of the woman you were when you two first met. Your smile didn’t make butterflies appear in his stomach anymore and your laugh didn’t make his heart flutter like it used to. It wasn’t the same anymore. You were both different people, changed people.

In the midst of this change, he was introduced to Yura by Jungkook. A model he worked with a couple times and a really nice woman. Beautiful, even. Almost as beautiful as you, he had thought when he first met her. Jungkook pushed and pushed for him to hang out with them and the rest of the guys and the more he saw Yura, the more he talked to her, the more he began to like her. She reminded him of you when he first met you.

You were 19 and he was 23 and you were modeling at the same set he was supposed to shoot at an hour later. He came early to help the staff prepare for his music video shoot and hopefully talk to the director but he had ended up watching your shoot for most of the time until it was his turn for the set. The people around you liked to say that Yoongi fell in love with you at first sight. He often refuted that it wasn’t at first sight because he wasn’t the type of person to fall in love because of how someone looks. In private, he told you that he fell in love with you at first smile, first laugh. The sight of you laughing genuinely in the middle of hydrangeas and baby’s-breath enchanted him so much that he remained rooted to the floor for the remainder of your shoot.

The laughs and the smiles were Yoongi’s favorite. You were the most beautiful person he’d ever met. You are still the most beautiful he’d ever met, but perhaps it was the exhaustion of life that wore the both of you down. What had started as a beautiful, youthful romance filled with picnics in meadows had ended with divorce papers on a rainy day in September.

These are the thoughts that followed Yoongi to sleep that night.

☾

[nov. 10, 2020]

The same thoughts haunted him day in and day out ever since he left that next morning at the insistence of Jungkook and Taehyung. He spent 4 days on his own, working and living his life but only on the surface. Conservations with people, including his friends, remained minimal. He couldn’t stop thinking about your broken and bruised body laying in the hospital bed, and he was anxious for the news of you waking up but none had come. He received no calls from the hospital since he left, and Taehyung said that visiting was meaningless unless the doctor told him new information.

Yura told him, verbatim, “I understand that you’re worried about her safety, but the doctors said she would be fine. She’s your ex-wife, I get it, but she’s not your responsibility anymore.”

In a way, she was right. But he couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought of leaving you all alone there. He knew it was hard for Jin to come out because he was incredibly busy with work, and when he wasn’t traveling for his job, he lived too far from both of you to ever accompany you in the way that you needed. In addition to that, he had no idea what happened to you and your mom. The last he heard, which was when you were still married, you were on speaking terms with her and there wasn’t a problem between the two of you. At least not that he knew of. Namjoon was on a book tour and Jimin was constantly booked due to his dance career. In any case, you had no one here. Yoongi was all you had and that was evident in your unchanged emergency contact list.

After Yura had said that, he felt uneasy being around her so he told her that he truthfully couldn’t stand to just move on with his life while you were practically lifeless in the hospital, and if that was a problem with her then maybe they should just take a break from each other. He kept telling himself that he really liked Yura and he wanted what she could give him, but he couldn’t ignore the four years that you two spent building a life together. Especially not now that you were pregnant, a fact that he had kept hidden from Yura.

When he thought about the pregnancy, everything else seemed to melt away. Despite the circumstances, the news of your pregnancy made him happy. Extremely so, albeit a little scared as well. He wondered how long you had known, and if you were happy or scared.Or what if you didn’t know at all? As far as he could tell, you weren’t showing. There was no sign of a bump on your little belly, but the doctor’s words were irrefutable. There was a baby growing in there. A baby that was half you and half him and that thought of that made him smile like he hadn’t in a long, long time.

That night, he dreamt about a little girl with your eyes and your smile and a nose that resembled his. A laughter that reminded him of yours echoed in those dreams.

☾

[nov. 11, 2020]

Pleasant dreams faded into a pleasant morning as Yoongi woke up much earlier than he was used to and felt better than he had in ages. He spent some time by himself before his phone was bombarded by phone calls and text messages from the group chat with the boys asking him when he was coming for work.

As he saw the sun take its place in the blue skies and white clouds, he decided that the day was too beautiful to waste on a day in the company. 5 days passed since your accident and he thought it was time to go back to the hospital and see how you were doing. Of course he wasn’t expecting any changes to your condition considering he hasn’t gotten any phone calls from the hospital yet, but he thought it might make him feel more at ease to sit next to you.

On his way to the hospital, he stopped by the flower shop you often went to, the one next to the park with the yellow flowers that you liked so much. The woman at the front, whose name was Yerin by the looks of her nametag, recognizes you immediately.

“Mr. Min Yoongi? How can we help you today?” She asks, immediately standing up straight at your intimidating presence.

“Just here to get some flowers.” He replies nonchalantly.

Yerin runs around the counter to stand in front of him.

“Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“No, not really—wait a second, that flower right there. Give me a bouquet of those.” He says, pointing to the bunches of purple flowers hiding behind Yerin.

She turns to see what he was pointing to. “Ah, purple lilacs. Okay, I’ll put it together for you really quick!”

He saw her go around the many shelves of flowers to what he assumed was the back inventory of the shop and didn’t see her come out until a couple of minutes later. In her hands was a beautiful bouquet of the purple lilacs with white baby's-breath. His eyes softened at the sight of the white flowers. The sight was familiar to him.

“That would be 25,830 won.” Yerin handed the bouquet to him and smiled.

He handed her 35,000 won, murmured his thanks and left. Once out of the shop, he was hit by the bright sunlight and couldn’t help looking over to the park. Kids were running around while their parents watched them on picnic blankets.

Warm and sunny days like this reminded him of you. Spending your days in the sun, laying on a picnic blanket and eating fruits, was your very existence.

He spends only a few moments admiring the scenery of people enjoying the weather before he makes his way back to his car and to the hospital. When he arrives at your room, nothing has changed except for the fact that your skin has regained a bit of its color and the bruises began the healing process.

Yoongi sets the flowers down on the table beside your bed. He moves the chair from the wall to the side of the bed so he could sit right next to you. His heart almost stops when he sees your face. It seems like the nurses changed the bandage on your head as the bandaging was noticeably lighter, but he could still see a bit of blood seeping through. The bruises on your arms and everywhere alarm him but he knows that you’re okay and you’re healing and that’s enough for him. It’s enough to know that you were alive and going to be fine.

His eyes trail down to your stomach and he lets it linger on them for a long time because he takes your hand in his and takes a deep breath. Two months ago he could have never imagined that this is where he would be right now. Two months ago, both of you had walked away from your marriage and Yoongi honestly thought that you two may never have crossed paths again despite his thoughts going to you more often than it should be. Now, two months later, you were divorced and pregnant with his child. His eyes continue to stare at your stomach, still flat and showing no signs of carrying a second life, and he resists the urge to caress it. You weren’t conscious and even if you were, would you allow your ex-husband to feel your stomach like that? No, probably not.

And that’s when he felt a twitch in his hand, not coming from his own. He looks down to see your fingers moving just barely. His first reaction was shock, then anxiety. He didn’t know what to do and the shock of your movement paralyzed him. It was only when he felt another movement, stronger this time, that he felt the need to press the call button to alarm the doctors and nurses. You were moving, which meant that you might be waking up.

The moments pass quickly and slowly at the same time. The doctors barely made it in time to see you flutter your eyes open and groan with a broken voice. Yoongi looked down at you, still holding your hand. You blinked your eyes multiple times. The light was too bright to take in all at once. He squeezed your hand at the relief he felt in seeing you wake up.

“Yn, how are you feeling baby?” He couldn’t help the pet name that came out of his mouth. You looked so vulnerable and fragile that it came out on instinct.

Yoongi waited for a reply for a little bit but heard none. The doctor came around to stand next to you.

“Miss Yn? Can you see us? Hear us?” he asked.

You nodded slowly, wincing at the pain in and on your head.

“Where m’I?” You attempt to speak out, but it comes out broken and croaky.

Yoongi is glad to hear your voice, to hear you talk for the first time in so long.

“You’re in the hospital right now, you were in a car accident but you’re okay now baby. How are you feeling?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You craned your head towards him, blinking furiously with your eyebrows furrowed. Confusion marred your features. Yoongi was scared that you finally realized he was here, with you, and would kick him out at any chance. He was scared that you were going to kick him out of you life before he could ever see the baby that you had made together, but this fear of his could have never prepared him for the next words to come out of your mouth.

“Who are you?”

☾

← masterlist → 

taglist batch 1: @victoriedulce @yoongistruth @rebeccawoodrow @moon-asia @koochiekoo @sonderkook @fangirling-gallifreyan @teresaisla @veronawrites @haeilove @rjsmochii @mama-m0chi @agustd-2020 @imluckybitches @dreamer95 @coldfreakeggsexpert @rjsmochii @loveyoongles @selfproducingfanfictionauthor @mr-robot-x​

[tarteausuga]

Wonderless

In which Mark is at a crossroads between the two loves of his life...

WC: 1676 words

CW: angst, a smidge of fluff, use of a few profane words. Band!NCT, lead singer!Mark x she/her oc

A/N: vaguely based off of Wonderless by Pierce the Veil

Meeting her was the best and worst thing to ever happen to Mark. He always told himself that the day he falls in love with someone is the day he would start to cut back on his work. He never anticipated that day to come so early in his career. It was a crush that got out of control and before things got too serious, he had to make a choice: his love or his dreams.

"I just want you to be happy, Mark." She said tearfully that night he made his decision. The image of her forced smile through her sad eyes is the most vivid memory he has.

"I'm sorry." He said to her but she quickly brushed it off.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. This is what you've been working for, you need to go chase it," she wiped her eyes, "I'll always be cheering you on so don't turn back, okay?" She held onto his hands so tightly until she finished that sentence. Her grip weakened and Mark's hands dropped to his sides.

He wanted to say something so bad. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, thank her for everything she's done for him but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would tell her he's staying. Instead, she said it all, "I love you, Mark Lee. Do good."

Mark still regrets not watching her walk away after she left a kiss on his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair for the last time. He still regrets not doing enough to make stronger memories with her. She was always there for him during the long nights of writing and recording, sleeping on the tiny couch of the tiny recording studio he and his band rented. She was always by his side through it all but ultimately, he had to leave her behind.

"Hey Mark!" Johnny poked Mark with his drumsticks. "You done daydreaming?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

The crowd was buzzing as their set time approached. This is what Mark loved so much about performing but there was still something missing. He knew exactly what it was.

Hanging his guitar over his shoulders, he downed his beer before meeting his band backstage.

She kept him grounded. She reminded him that outside of the recording studio, off the stage and beyond the interviews, he was just Mark Lee. But lately, the feeling was he didn't know who Mark Lee was anymore and it was starting to seep toxicity into every area of his life.

"Mark! Let go!" Johnny and Jaehyun jumped in to pull him off of their youngest band member and rhythm guitarist.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" Mark spat as the much larger Johnny restrained him while Jaehyun did the same to Haechan.

"What the hell is going on?" Taeyong, their lead guitarist and de facto leader stood between the two youngest as they both tried to break from their restraints.

"Ask him!" Haechan used his chin to motion at Mark.

"Me? He's been getting on my nerves since the start of this damn tour!" Mark roared.

"I don't care! I don't care what the fuck is going on between you two but you can't be going for each other's throats right before a show!" Taeyong yelled.

"Whatever." Haechan finally shook free from Jaehyun's arms. "Dude needs to get laid." He said under his breath but was still loud enough for Mark to hear.

Johnny, thinking the dust had settled, dropped his guard and gave Mark a chance to lunge at Haechan but Taeyong stepped in front of him before he could do anything else. "I don't know what's going on but you need to go cool off." Taeyong said quietly, but sternly.

"I'll play this show but only because we get a break from the tour after…" Mark chewed his words.

The show was noticeably tense. The usual friendly banter between them onstage was replaced by rehearsed lines to hopefully draw a laugh from the crowd. Their fans could easily tell there was something up with lead singer, Mark, so no one was surprised when he declined to sign autographs that night. Instead, Mark retreated to their tour bus, grabbed the bag he had packed before the show, and asked their manager to drive him straight to the airport. He was going home. For how long? He wasn't sure but he really didn't want to go back on tour. He wanted her.

With a tendency to act on impulse, he had no plans for what he was going to do when he landed. It had been just over two years since that night… did she really mean it? He wondered. She's always been one to keep her word so he trusted her and made his way back to the neighbourhood where he grew up.

As the taxi made its way into the deep suburbs, Mark felt a relief of comfort on top of nostalgia. This is where he fell in love with music. This is where he found love. Passing by his parents' house, he made a silent promise to visit them once he settled his business.

Walking up those steps and pressing the doorbell took him back to the first time he picked her up for a date. He didn't have his license at the time so his dad was on the driveway, idling while he nervously waited to see her. He held his breath like he did back then. Like he always did when he was waiting to see her.

"Oh hi Mrs.-" Mark began to greet her mom but he was instantly pulled into a hug.

"Honey! Come down!" Her dad yelled upstairs.

Mark's eyes widened as he focused on her descending towards him. Her mom peeled away, allowing him to scoop her up into his arms. His favourite person. The muse for all of his songs. His anchor.

They stood, wrapped in each other's arms for a long time before he finally spoke.

"I love you." He said just loud enough for her to hear.

"You really came to say that?" She giggled.

"Yeah, I did." He tightened his arms around her waist, determined to imprint the feeling into his brain along with her scent and the warmth of her cheek against his neck.

"I missed you." She confessed, finally pulling away to examine Mark.

"You didn't go out of town for university?" He smirked.

"I mean… Not for you… they had the program I wanted here but… yeah, maybe it was a little bit for you." She blushed.

He was relieved but he also felt guilty that she felt the need to stay for him, waiting for him. Maybe this could have worked if he was just a little bit more committed, he wouldn't have had to give her up for his band.

"So why did you really come back?" She asked him as they took a walk through the park, chasing the sparse lights, showing the path in the night.

"Why did you wait?" He answered.

"Answer me first." She pushed him lightly.

"I don't really know. I just felt like I had to, so I did." He shrugged.

"Typical Mark Lee, doing things without thinking first." She giggled.

"Is that bad?"

"Not when it's you. You act with your heart and that's what I've always loved about you." She eased his worries.

"So why did you wait?"

"I was worried. I knew that one day, you might need an escape from that world and I wanted to be here when you did." She went on but Mark got lost in her voice. He missed her voice so much. The way she would stumble on her words when she spoke too fast, the unique intonations she had for certain words. There was just something about her that made him feel normal.

There was a point in his past where he craved being on stage. The bright stage lights and roaring crowd were addictive. They sang every word he sang and they cheered after every song. But somewhere along the way, the lights were disorienting and the cheers were suffocating. The songs he wrote and sang were about and for her.

"Mark?" She poked him.

"Yeah?" He shook his head out of the clouds.

"You were off in your own world again." She laughed as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Sorry." He laughed softly while rubbing the back of his neck.

"So when are you leaving?"

"I don't think I want to." He took a deep breath and appreciated that he wasn't trapped on a tour bus with a bunch of sweaty dudes.

"What? Mark, you can't stay here!" She gawked at him.

"Wait wait wait… you don't want me to stay?"

"Of course not! Mark you're so good at what you love, I would hate to be the reason why you give it all up." She said.

"Then why did you stay here?" He yelled at her for the second time in their relationship. His memories were modified to suit his needs. What truly happened was not as calm and perfect as he wanted it to be. He was begging her to go with him but she refused. She promised that she would always be there for him but she couldn't give up her life for him. "You're the one who said you couldn't give up your dreams and yet you're still here!"

"I… things change." She wanted to yell back but she couldn't.

"Then why can't I change my mind and choose you?"

"That would be the wrong choice… I stayed because when you left, I was afraid to leave too." She started to explain, "I was ready to go to university. Everything was packed but it didn't feel right. I wasn't ready. It's different, Mark. You know what you want and you're doing exactly what you want. I'm still trying to figure it out."

"What if I want you?" He said quietly.

"We can't have everything we want." She said.

[bytheangell]

Take Me With You

(For my @shadowhunterbingo square: Traveling | Jimon, Rated Teen, referenced alcohol but no archive warnings/other warnings) (Read on AO3) “I don’t need a bodyguard,” Simon insists. “It was one stupid letter.”

“The letter wasn’t stupid,” Jace says, already regretting his appointment to this job. “It was a death threat, by someone who’s sent multiple things to your unlisted apartment.”

“Well, no one knows where I live on the road, which is where I’ll be for the next three months,” Simon points out.

“Oh, yes, the total inability to track you from a list of cities you’re going to and the dates and times you’ll be there. You’re right, no one will ever find you that way,” Jace says, his tone dripping with sarcasm and more than a little condescending. Simon isn’t a no-name, but he isn’t famous-famous either, and Jace hoped that’d make him a little less awful to put up with than Jace’s usual high-profile assignments. So far it’s the opposite - Simon isn’t taking this seriously at all, which is somehow more frustrating than too much importance being put on minor perceived threats.

Simon sighs. “Fine.” It certainly doesn’t sound like he’s fine with it, but Jace isn’t here to argue. He’s here to do a job.

“Great,” Jace says. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

---

That ends up being a complete lie. Of course, when Jace first imagined blending into the background of Simon’s tour life he hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that Simon drove his own van, which would just be the two of them for extended periods of time.

Jace can tell that he’s putting a damper in the way Simon normally functions during his tours, mostly because he’s quiet while they drive. Then he’ll say something, start to ramble, catch himself rambling, and fall abruptly silent again in a repeating pattern.

“Sorry if I’m cramping your style,” Jace says after one of these repetitions, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the background.

“You’re not,” Simon insists.

Jace is dubious. “What would you be doing if you were alone?” Jace asks.

Simon doesn’t even hesitate before answering, “Scream-singing at the top of my lungs with the windows down. It’s like, my tried-and-true road trip routine.”

“...so do it. Don’t let me stop you,” Jace says.

“My manager hates it because he’s convinced one of these days I’ll end up losing my voice before a show. It’s probably for the best I’m not,” Simon says before falling silent again.

Jace doesn’t push it, nor does he comment when Simon starts to sing to a song that comes on about half an hour later, his voice growing louder and louder until all the windows are down and he’s shouting lyrics into the cool night air.

Jace has to fight the urge to join him. Normally he doesn’t have an issue staying focused on a job but Simon has this disarming way of making Jace want to relax around him. Somehow what he thought would be his easiest job to date continues to throw surprising complications his way.

Still, he keeps his mouth shut and enjoys Simon’s singing as they continue driving into the night.

---

Watching Simon with his fans is nerve-wracking. There’s no telling who might be a threat, not when everyone seems so down-to-earth, much like Simon himself. There aren’t any obviously obsessive fangirls and normal tells like knowing too many personal details is just the norm, with multiple people casually asking Simon about how his Bubbie Helen is doing or about the cat he left at home with Clary during his tour, or the most recent book he’s been reading and chatting about online. It’s difficult to pick out a potential stalker when everyone knows what Jace would typically consider more personal details than usual about Simon.

Jace watches these pre- and post-show encounters with a feeling more like he’s observing conversations between old friends rather than a musician and his fans, signatures and photo ops aside. Simon knows some of them by name, remembers birthdays mentioned over social media or live chats, and even recalls previous conversations. It’s impressive.

Dressed in plain clothes so he blends in with the crowd, Jace grows increasingly impressed with Simon the more time he spends with him. Plenty of people claim to be humble, but few often are in practice. Not Simon. Simon is everything he told Jace when they first met. He’s the same way with his fans that he is in private with Jace, which is the same way he is with his family and friends - Simon’s just, well, Simon, honestly and earnestly and unapologetically.

It’s refreshing. It’s also just another thing for Jace to push to the back of his mind, because he doesn’t need to like the guy - he just needs to protect him. Simon looks up from the table he’s signing CDs at and shoots Jace a beaming smile, and Jace has to actively force himself not to smile back and simply nod his head in acknowledgment instead.

“It’s an assignment, Herondale. Get your shit together,” Jace mutters to himself from the corner of the room. It’s a reminder he repeats more often over the upcoming weeks than he’s comfortable admitting.

---

“Please,” Jace begs after the first two weeks of shows. “I will pay for a better hotel. Let me pay for a better hotel.”

Simon is shaking his head in response before Jace finishes the request.

“Why?!” Jace glances critically around the room. “Do you want to get murdered in a shady motel? Just because I can keep you alive doesn’t mean we have to actively test it every night when we could have a door that doesn’t look like my 11-year-old brother could kick it in.”

“You have a brother?” Simon asks, ignoring everything else Jace said as he tosses his duffel bag (because Simon doesn’t even have a proper suitcase) onto a bed Jace feels the instinctive need to run a blacklight over.

Jace hesitates to answer because this is a job and he isn’t meant to share personal information about himself with his assignment. It’s strange because normally the people he’s tasked to protect are such self-absorbed assholes they barely spare Jace a second glance, let alone casual conversation.

He’s aware that the pause he takes after what should be a simple question is way too long when Simon frowns, brows pinching together.

“Two brothers, actually. One older, one younger, and a sister,” Jace finally decides to share. It’s all he intends on saying, not wanting to be rude and not answer at all, but when Simon brings up his own sister and keeps talking, keeps asking curious, harmless questions, Jace finds himself answering without thinking.

Simon is easy to talk to - maybe a little too easy to talk to, because the next thing they know it’s 1am and they need to be up and back on the road at 6.

“Get some sleep, Lewis,” Jace says finally, taking a few extra minutes to secure the door before doing one last perimeter sweep. When he gets back he pretends he doesn’t notice Simon, still awake, hastily close his eyes and pretend to sleep the second Jace gets back in the room.

---

After the third week, Jace insists that staying at nicer hotels is a matter of security and finally convinces Simon to pull into the parking lot of a proper hotel. One with room service instead of vending machines, plus a gym and a pool. Jace tells himself it’s a matter of security as well, and not a reaction to Simon complaining about having several nights of terrible sleep and some back and neck pain from the old, cheap mattresses.

Jace certainly doesn’t correct Simon’s assumption that this is covered in the contract when in reality Jace is fronting the extra cost himself. After all, this is as much for his own benefit as it is for Simon’s, right?

That’s what he tells himself as he opens up more around Simon as well, sharing a drink or two when Simon insists (never anything enough to impair his judgment, and only ever when they’re back in a room for the remainder of the night), telling a few more personal stories, and… flirting?

Jace isn’t sure, but occasionally when Simon impulsively runs into an ice cream shop in a new city and gets a cone for each of them, or points out a storefront display with a leather jacket he thinks Jace might like, or leans his shoulder into Jace while laughing at something sarcastic Jace says… yeah, sometimes Jace gets the feeling that Simon might actually like him.

Then Jace just as quickly tells himself that it’s just Simon being nice, because Simon is nice, and because of course Simon’s going to be on good terms with the guy he’s stuck with 24/7 for two months. Jace is working for Simon, and their relationship is strictly professional, however pleasant it may also be.

It’s that hard line Jace knows they won’t cross that allows him to continue to open up more, because Simon’s safe. He’ll never see the guy again when all of this is over.

“You’re a good person, Jace,” Simon says one night after a lengthy conversation.

“...what?” Jace isn’t expecting that.

“You know that, right?” Simon’s tone is just shy of insistent, and certainly not rhetorical.

“Why do you say that?” Jace asks instead of agreeing, because… well, because he doesn’t know that. He tries, but he’s made some shitty decisions in his past, and hurt a lot of people, intentionally or not. And Simon doesn’t even know him, so Jace really doesn’t know where this is coming from.

“Just… the way you talk about yourself sometimes. Like you always have something to prove, or make up for... or like you have to justify everything you say. Sometimes I get the feeling you don’t think very highly of yourself even when you’re acting like God’s gift to mankind,” Simon adds with more accurate insight than Jace is comfortable with.

And now Jace really doesn’t know what to do with that.

“What are you, a philosopher now?” Jace mutters, still avoiding any sort of direct commentary on Simon’s way-too-close-to-home observation. “Go to sleep, Simon. I don’t need you too tired to focus on the road tomorrow.”

Simon looks like he’s going to argue but doesn’t in the end, leaving Jace alone with his thoughts in the newly settling silence of the hotel room.

It feels surprisingly pleasant to hear those affirmations from Simon, and Jace considers for the briefest moment what it’d be like to just be friends with Simon outside of their circumstances, to have these discussions and delve deeper into both of their pasts, humoring more of Simon’s personal questions and--

--and everything he can’t let this turn into over the next few weeks. Fuck.

Maybe there’s some harm in opening up after all.

---

They’re a little over halfway through the three-month tour when Jace realizes that perhaps his harmless crush on Simon is stronger than he realized. Jace watches from his usual spot in the corner as Simon signs CDs and sells band t-shirts and poses for photos, which is what he always does. But with every flirtatious laugh and every arm Simon drapes over someone’s shoulder or wraps around someone’s waist, Jace feels the desire to pull Simon away... and it isn’t because he’s in danger. It’s because Jace is jealous.

Jace grows sullen at the realization, arms crossed in front of him as he forces himself to watch Simon with his fans, because this is his job. The more he watches the more he doesn’t even think Simon realizes he’s doing it. Jace knows what active, intentional flirting looks like, but this is just Simon being his natural charming self, and Jace isn’t sure if that makes the whole thing better or worse.

Because it starts to dawn on him with a bit more meaning now that the way Simon’s been with him is the way Simon is with everyone. Jace just gets to experience it more often than everyone else right now. That doesn’t make their conversations special. It doesn’t make Jace anything special to Simon. And hell, maybe it’s just been a while since Jace spent this much time with someone else, too. Maybe he should work on writing off his own motivations as easily as he’s writing off Simon’s because his feelings are far from professional right now.

When the crowd disperses and Jace goes to help Simon wrap up his gear and load it back into the van (something that’s become routine for them, though not strictly in Jace’s list of expected duties) Jace is quieter than usual.

“Everything alright?” Simon asks, catching the shift in mood.

“Yeah. Fine,” Jace says curtly.

Simon doesn’t look like he believes him but doesn’t press the topic as they toss the last of the equipment into the van and head out.

---

The nicer Simon is toward him, the more closed-off Jace gets. He’s quiet during dinners Simon insists on paying for, stops sharing so much about himself when they do talk, and when Simon gives Jace a guitar pick he fashioned into a necklace for him Jace pockets it with a muttered ‘thanks’ without putting it on. He doesn’t have the heart to totally push Simon away, but he can’t keep growing closer to him knowing it’s all going to end in three weeks.

Jace wears the necklace every day but he keeps it tucked underneath his shirts where Simon can’t see.

Simon eventually stops trying to talk to him entirely, and they spend more and more time in uncomfortable silences. Sometimes Simon insists he needs privacy to work on his music and Jace sits at the end of the hallway of their hotel room listening to the faded sounds of Simon’s strumming.

There are three weeks left in Jace’s assignment when he gets the call that the police managed to track the letters to a girl back in New York: she’s in custody and getting a restraining order put against her, and Jace can come back as soon as he arranges transportation.

Jace hangs up the phone feeling surprisingly upset. This is great news for Simon, and he should be happy for him if nothing else, but that means this is the last night he’ll have to spend with Simon.

The last night he’ll get to spend with Simon.

“Hey Simon, good news. I just got a call from Luke and they tracked down your mystery stalker. You’ll get all the details once you’re back home but they’re already putting the restraining order into place, so you’re good to go.”

“What? That’s amazing!” Simon grins automatically, but it falls back into a frown just as quickly. “Does that mean you…?” his words trail off in question.

“I’ll be able to leave in the morning,” Jace confirms.

“Guess you’ll be happy to get out of here,” Simon says, his smile entirely gone.

“I do miss New York,” Jace carefully avoids the answer he knows Simon’s fishing for. The lie he should give, but can’t bring himself to.

Simon looks Jace up and down, his gaze finally resting on Jace’s face for a long couple of seconds, searching for something there before turning away without another word.

---

Jace knows he shouldn’t go to the show, but he does. He hangs in the back, a real drink in hand now that he’s no longer on duty, and listens to Simon sing the songs Jace knows by heart now. Jace knows from experience standing by the side of the stage that there’s no way Simon can make out any faces where Jace currently sits back by the bar. He plans on leaving before the end, before the lights come on and Simon knows he was there.

He’s a few drinks in when he hears Simon break his usual format.

“How does everyone feel about me trying out a new song I’ve been working on?” Simon asks. The crowd claps and cheers, and Jace shifts in his seat to fully face the stage. “This is a song about feeling a connection with someone, and not knowing when things went wrong, only that they did. And wondering if maybe it was all in your head the whole time...”

Jace feels his throat tighten at those words. He doesn’t have to be a genius to piece together the lyrics Simon starts to sing, fitting them to their lives the past few months, the hope of getting to know someone you’re starting to like, the confusion of being shut out, the uncertainty of wondering if they ever felt the same way you did or if they were just humoring you.

Jace knows Simon well enough to know that this isn’t a coincidence. It can’t be.

Against his better judgment, Jace stays. He stays until the set is over and the lights come on and Simon looks out around the crowd and makes direct eye contact with him.

Because fuck it. He’s leaving in the morning, and if this is all for nothing then he’ll never see Simon again and it won’t matter. But if he’s right…

Jace hangs back, watching Simon smile and laugh and sign CDs and take photos, acutely aware of every time the musician’s eyes wander over to where Jace lingers by the bar. Outside of the fading buzz from the alcohol it almost feels normal: hanging back after the show, watching Simon and waiting for him to make his way over once the crowd disperses. Hell, even the butterflies in Jace’s stomach aren’t new.

“You’re here,” Simon says when he finally makes his way over. “I didn’t think you’d come, since… I mean…”

“I heard your new song,” Jace forces the words out before he can change his mind. “I’d say I liked it, but that seems like the wrong response from the guy who made you think you did something wrong.”

“Not everything is about you,” Simon argues, but the intent falls flat beneath the nervous tremor the words are spoken with.

“No,” Jace agrees easily. “But that song is.”

Simon hesitates, then sighs. “It is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for not liking me, Jace. You were doing your job, that’s-”

“No. I’m sorry I was going to leave without telling you that I like you. I thought I’d leave and you’d never see me again, that it’d be pointless to get attached. I thought you were just… being nice. Because you’re a good person.” The words spill out of Jace before he can overthink them.

“You like me,” Simon repeats incredulously. “That totally makes sense with, you know, the way you completely stopped talking to me.”

Jace can hear the anger in Simon’s voice and winces slightly. Just because it’s entirely deserved doesn’t make it easier to hear.

“I figured it’d be easier to walk away once this was all over if we weren’t as friendly.” It’s still a shitty thing to have done, and Jace wouldn’t blame Simon for holding it against him. But after hearing that song he couldn’t walk away with Simon thinking it was over anything he did wrong. No matter the cost to Jace’s pride, Simon deserves that much. “And… maybe I was a little afraid that if I got much closer I’d want to cross a line I knew I couldn’t.”

“So you felt it too?” Simon’s words and expression are full of so much hope that Jace almost panics again. What if he isn’t half the person Simon thinks he is after getting to know him in this little bubble of theirs from the past few months? What if he messes this up?

...what if he doesn’t?

“I did,” Jace finally admits. “I still do. And I know I probably ruined any chance I had before, but if I haven’t fucked things up too badly, maybe once you’re back in New York we could meet up for coffee?”

Simon smiles, brighter than the house lights that fill the small venue now.

“Or… or you could stay with me for the last few shows? I wasn’t just being nice for the sake of being nice - I like you, Jace. I changed my hotel routine for you! I wouldn’t do that for just anyone. I don’t know if you have to go back right away for work, or something, but if you don’t I definitely wouldn’t mind the company. Your company.”

Jace considers it for a few long moments, then nods. It’s fitting, he thinks, to drop the formalities and the professional distance in the same setting he started to fall for Simon in. The same setting in which Simon started to fall for him, despite Jace’s best efforts to dissuade him, only this time with no excuses to hold him back. And if Simon’s willing to give him an actual shot after everything, he’d be a fool not to take it.

“Well, I can’t very well leave you to lug all your equipment around by yourself, can I?” Jace says, smiling. “Let me check back in with the office tomorrow morning but I don’t have anything scheduled. It shouldn’t be an issue.”

There’s a pause then, the air between them filled with an almost electric buzz of anticipation. Simon takes the first step closer, bridging the gap between them. There’s no questioning what Simon’s thinking when his eyes dart down to Jace’s lips and back up to meet his gaze again before speaking.

“Can I-”

Before Simon can finish, Jace’s lips are already on his in response. It’s slow and tentative, with each of them feeling the other out, but it’s nice. It’s really nice. When they pull away after a few moments Simon can’t keep the smile off his face. “That was even better than I imagined.”

Jace quirks an eyebrow, smirking fully now. “You imagined us kissing?”

“Shut up and help me load the van.”

The familiar banter and Simon’s easy smile are such an immediate comfort for Jace that he can’t help the light laugh he gives in response. As Simon looks back at Jace it’s with an expression so soft and full of kindness that Jace knows now isn’t the same look he reserves for everyone else.

Jace knows it’s a look reserved only for him this time - and with any luck, for many more times to come.