#bowie fanfic

[seatbythevampyre]

I am so happy to find another Bowie blog! Can I request a fic for Davida between his Hours era? Like he is reader's teacher who is around 28-30 and they like each other and theres tension but you know, keep it profesional because university, but fluffly pls. You can decide either if is smutty or suggestive. Just recently got into him and I completely fell in love with 90s Bowie😔 Thank you luv! ♡

Sorry this took so long I’ve been overwhelmed with all the requests I thought I’d only get one or two 😭. And I LOVE THIS. ABSOLUTELY! Welcome to the fandom and hope you enjoy!

TWS: None, CUTE AND FLUFFY, possibly suggestive at times😋

Teacher!Bowie : You’re officially in your second year of college. You’re an art major, eager for your first day of class. Also I’m just gonna use David Bowie instead of his real name for this one lol.

(There will be a part 2 bc this got LONG.)

Break was over, not that it made much of a difference to you. You didn’t have a family or friends to visit over the summer months so you just stayed in your apartment on campus. The only times you went out was to get groceries or go for a hike- typically at night. You loved night time. It wasn’t the darkness that enthralled you so, but the opposite. That little sliver of light emerging from the darkness was what inspired you.

Tonight was one of those nights you were walking through the gardens on campus. No one was outside at this hour, and that was exactly how you liked it. You looked up at the stars as you walked. Nothing could ever make you feel like looking at the night sky made you feel.

So you walked until you turned around a tall hedge to make your way to the bench you always sat at. You halted. Someone’s in my spot. But it wasn’t someone you’d ever seen before. No, this man looked far too…mature…to be a student here. You peered out from behind the hedge and watched the man. His hair was orange. Not quite fiery, but he was certainly hot. The stubble and scruff on his face only accentuated his godlike jawline. You gasped and ducked back completely behind the bush when he turned his head in your direction. You couldn’t see, but there was a smirk on his face. Thinking he hadn’t seen, you peeked out again. He pretends to be oblivious.

It was then that you took a moment to truly look at him. Whoever this stranger was, bathed in moonlight, had stolen your attention from the one thing that always had it. The stars.

THE NEXT MORNING

After that night, you didn’t get much sleep. The beautiful stranger plagued your mind. You were sure you’d never see him again, and that’s what you were up all night making peace with. So with an hour and a half of sleep under your belt, you got up and threw on a white cropped muscle tanktop and some high waisted baggy jeans. After putting on a zip up hoodie and pair of old boots, you were off. All thoughts of the mysterious starman you’d seen last night were shoved to the side, you were excited for your first day of art this semester. The only thing you were worried about was having a new professor, though all of your professors liked you. It took time for you to warm up to others. You weren’t paranoid, just simply cautious.

You sighed as you walked into the full classroom and saw that the only available seat was directly next to the professors desk…but they were nowhere to be seen. You hated sitting anywhere other than the back but that’s what you get for being late. A good five minutes passed until the door flew open, and in walked the man who’d stolen your bench and your attention last night. Fuck…he was even more beautiful up close. But of course he was. Because that’s just your luck. Of course he was.

You looked down at your hands as you tapped them on the desk. Luckily you had your hood up. There was absolutely no way you could bring yourself to look at him. Oh god, how were you supposed to properly function in this class? You looked up after a few seconds, assuming coast would be clear. But you were met with something far more frustrating than just catching his eye… He was smirking down at you, with his crotch sitting eye level. You quickly looked up at his face, deciding it was better than staring directly at his very impressive bulge. When you met his eyes you couldn’t seem to form words. You did try, but only a shaky breath came out. His eyes lingered on yours for another moment before he stepped back from your desk and faced the rest of the class. You could’ve sworn his eyes were two different colors and sizes.

“Hello class, my name is David Bowie. I’m not big on formalities so…” His eyes flicked to meet yours for a fleeting moment. “Call me by whatever pleases you. Within reason, of course.” If you thought you were fascinated with this man last night, it had nothing on how you felt right now. His features were strong…unique. And the way he moved reminded you of the moon gently pulling at the waves…the movement of his arms as he spoke were like the night time tides lapping at the shore. You were too deep in thought to notice he’d stopped talking and was writing on the chalkboard.

“For your first week…” He mumbled as he scrawled out whatever you want on the board. “Whatever you want. Any medium, any style. But…you’ll all be assigned a muse.” He sat the chalk down on the ledge and moved to sit on the edge of his desk. He sighed as he looked out at everyone. “No one’s going to ask me what that means?” David said half defeated. It seemed he liked hearing himself talk. And you liked it too.

“So, you’re going to assign us an artist or?” You spoke up.

He bowed his head slightly and smiled at you, “Thank you for asking, darling but no! I will be assigning you a person. I already have, actually.” He turned around and grabbed the stack of papers on his desk and began passing them out, starting with you first. “This list will tell you who you’ve been assigned to. Todays entire class, you’ll be with your partner getting to know them. And tomorrow, you will draft ideas for your piece. Sound good?” There were silent nods and some faint mumbles scattered around. Your eyes scanned the paper, you couldn’t see your anywhere.

“Excuse me, I don’t see my name.” You spoke up and he walked next to your desk and crouched down, deliciously close.

“Oh, that’s right there isn’t an even amount of students so one person gets to deal with me for a whole class.” He flashed a toothy grin and stood up, grabbing a chair and pulling it over to sit next to you. Everyone else had paired off, so now his focus was completely on you. Shit.

“Th-that’s fine…uhm so…tell me about yourse-“ But he cut you off.

“What’s your name?” You we’re right, his eyes were two different colors. His eyes were piercing, almost cold. His one oversized pupil seemed to stare right through you. Your face was burning red, but you removed your hood out of respect.

“You already know. It’s on the paper.” You tiled your head and watched as that mischievous smile worked its way back onto his face.

“I know, but that means nothing. Not if we’re getting to know each other. It’s proper to introduce yourself. I want you to introduce yourself.” His voice seemed laced with a sultry tone as he spoke the last sentence. His voice was commanding, though he wasn’t demanding you to do anything.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you, er..uhm…sir.” Though he said he wasn’t much for formalities, you were. And you couldn’t imagine calling your professor by their name. Especially not him…you didn’t want to become attached. You had a tendency to do that pretty easily. To your shock, his cheeks went red.

“Sir? God, you’ll make me feel old…but it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He took your hand In his and gave you a firm handshake. David’s eyes lingered on your lips, causing his hand to linger on yours just a moment too long to be professional. He then cleared his throat and retracted his hand.

“You too…It’s nice to meet you, I mean. Ugh, God I’m hopeless…let’s just start this I guess.” You laughed a bit and looked away, “I’m horrible with people, I’m sorry. I don’t get out much.”

“What do you mean? We’ve already started….Y/N? Turn around and look at me.” Usually, such a demand would make you break down and cry. But his voice wasn’t harsh, it was like he was begging you to look at him. He was letting you know that you were safe with him.

“I’m sorry,” You faced him again and locked eyes. You made it a point to study his eyes and the rest of his face for a few moments. “Do you like space?” You asked abruptly. He grinned.

“You watched me star gazing last night. I saw. I was waiting for you to come and join me but you just hid.” He laughed a bit and leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t actually talked to anyone here yet. None of the staff either…besides who hired me.” David pulls a chain out of his coat pocket, and attached to it is a little jar. He placed it in front of you on the desk.

“What’s this?” You picked it up and held it close to your face as you examined it.

“Moon dust! Well, that’s what the man who worked at the tourist trap I got it at said.” He laughed, “Spent $50 on that bloody thing in the middle of the Arizona desert.”

You smiled, finally calmed down a bit. You felt comfortable with him. He was comfortable. You went to hand it back, but he took your hand into both of his big ones and closed it around the necklace. “It’s yours.” He said with a grin. You just shook your head.

“I can’t take this from you…” You felt yourself getting emotional at how gentle he was being with you. Truth be told, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d touched another human. God, you did not want to cry right now. But he was pushing it.

“It would be rude of you not to. I want you to take it. Please, love. It’s the least I can do for stealing your bench.” You held onto the necklace tight as you stood up. There was no way you were ging to let him see you cry over something to trivial.

“I have to use the bathroom,” you said softly, biting the inside of your cheek. The concern in his eyes only drove you further to let yourself unravel. You turned and bolted out of the classroom, leaving your bag behind.

Somehow, you managed to make it to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall before breaking down. You leaned up against the side of the stall and cried while holding the necklace close to your heart.

Having heard the bustle of people in the hallway, you assumed you’d been in there crying for 20 mixtures. Fuck. You were going to have to go get your stuff and be alone with him After taking a deep breath and cleaning your makeup up in the mirror to wash away the evidence, you started the short walk back to his class. The door was closed, so you knocked softly. He told you to enter almost immediately. As you stepped in, he put down the passers he was looking at and stood up.

“Christ, Y/N, I was worried about you. What happened? Are you sick, do you need anything?” He walked briskly towards you and placed a hand on your forehead to check your temperature. “You’re a bit hot.” His worried expression threatened to break into a smirk and you could tell.

“I’m fine…I’m okay I promise.” You WANTED to say yeah my face is hot because you’re touching me but you decided against it. You slowly moved away to grab your bag and head out but he grabbed your wrist.

“We still have another 30 minutes left of today’s lesson,” He said and smiled, “I’ll order some food after.” You nodded and sat at your desk and he sat at his. He pulled out a book and started flipping through it. You blushed when he looked over and noticed you watching him. He motioned for you to come sit next to him so you moved your chair over next to his.

“Let me read something to you…” He continued, “I pray you, sweetheart, counsel me whether it is better for a man to speak or die?" He looked at you from above his reading glasses.

“The Tales Of Heptameron. One of my favorites.” You we’re still rolling around the necklace in your hands.

“I knew you had good taste. Here..” he held his hand out for the necklace and you gave it to him. David stood up behind you and clasped the necklace. “So what do you think?” He asked and loomed over your shoulders. You looked back and up at him.

“The necklace? I love it, David. It’s very sweet of you…”

“No, silly. The question left hanging in the air. Is it better to speak or to die?“ it was a question you pondered more often than you’d admit. He sat back in his seat and watched you as you thought our your answer.

“Speak. Of course I think it’s better to speak. But personally, I’d rather die.” This earned a chuckle from David which made your heart flutter. “People often know the best choice but go along with the wrong one anyway. Usually, it’s easier. It’s less terrifying.” You noticed he was staring at you. His lips were slightly parted, and his eyebrows slightly arched. “I’m not good at answering questions simply.”

David’s mouth curved up into a smile, “Absolutely beautiful. Don’t ever apologize for talking. I like the way you speak.” You turned completely towards him.

“In this story, the knight will speak. David, I’m sorry I ran out of class earlier. I can’t remember the last time anyone’s been so gentle with me…I can’t remember the last time I ever even touched someone else.” You looked into his beautiful eyes warily. He reached a hand out to cup your cheek.

“Y/N, my dove. You are a wonderful soul. Come here,” He pulled you into his lap and held you. That was all it took for you to collapse into his arms and cry. “Poor thing. It’s alright. You don’t have to fake any emotions with me, or hide anything from me. I see a lot of myself in you…” You sniffled and sat up to look at him. David wiped your tears away with his thumb. “Excuse me if I’m overstepping but you don’t have anyone to be there for you, do you? I don’t either…”

You shook your head and wiped your face dry with your sleeves, now aware that you were sat in his lap. Your face heated up and you warily lifted a hand to play with his hair. “Are you sure we should be…umm..” You looked over at the door.

He faked a gasp and grabbed your waist with both hands, “Do you think something nefarious is going on here, little one? Naughty.” He tickled you softly which caused you to flail around.

“David! Hey!” You giggled and smacked his chest playfully.

“See! That’s good, that’s what I want to see. Big smiles.” David said and pinched your cheek.

You leaned against his chest, surprised to feel his heart thumping as hard as yours was. “Yeah, yeah…now how about that food?”

Pt 2 soon :)

[the-widow-olivia]

The last chapter of Starman (a 1972 NASA AU) goes up later today, but please enjoy this GORGEOUS art by @merryfinches that goes along with Chapter 5, when our boys go on a side quest to see David Bowie live.

“If he didn’t know it before, he knew it now: he was in love with Stede Bonnet. This strange man who had captivated him from the first moment they met, who was always himself – whether he wore a low-cut silk shirt or a G-suit. Ed was absolutely gone for him.”

[thescarletgoat]

Why do fanfics named after song lyrics that are incredibly popular in their respective fandoms fuck me up so much

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: Jareth jumpscares the reader a bit, Hoggle is a bit crass, reader kind of throws themself at Jareth, a few double intendres but they are mentioned in the movie so idk

AN: Happy Valentine's Day! My annual Labyrinth story is here!

"Run the labyrinth he said. 13 hours he said." I muttered to myself as I trudged along through the Goblin City. So far, none of the goblins had come after us. Hoggle trailed behind me, rubbing his hands. I still held his precious jewels but I doubt he cared about them anymore. "What are you muttering about back there Hoggle?" I looked over my shoulder at him, fed up with the noise he was making. Not knowing if the rest of the goblins would jump out because of it had set me on edge.

"What are you going to do if you get to the castle?" He finally asked. I shrugged. "I mean you're leaving right?" I nodded as he sped up to walk alongside me. "But I thought you wanted to do Jareth." I stumbled and Hoggle looked at me, hands out to try to catch me.

"What?!" I exclaimed. Hoggle was wringing his hands again. "Who said anything about me wanting to do Jareth?"

"I just thought..." He trailed off. "The way the two of you interact with each other..." I sighed and gazed up at the castle.

"Hoggle, it wouldn't work. He belongs here in the Goblin City. I have to go back. I should never have said that to my friend." I shook my head, clearing it and banishing all thoughts of the Goblin King out of my head.

"He will probably offer you a way to stay..." Hoggle murmured. "If he did, would you take it?" I shrugged.

"As long as my friend was safe and I wouldn't get turned into a goblin, maybe." My mind was racing. If I could stay, would I? Would I want to be bound to the Goblin King forever? Did I really want to stay? Shaking my head again, I focused on the task at hand. We were at the steps of the castle. "Hoggle, whatever comes next, I have to do it myself right?" He nodded. "Here. Thank you for coming with me." I tossed his jewels back to him.

"You didn't have to do that." He said in surprise. Smiling sadly at him, I started to climb the stairs. I looked back only once to see Hoggle wave at me before turning around and disappearing into the city. Climbing the stairs, I pushed the doors open and entered the empty throne room. Looking around, I saw the clock. Sighing in relief, I looked around for the doorway I knew to be there. There were three doorways behind the throne. Looking from one to the other, I started to worry. I still had time if I took the wrong door but I would have to find my way back to this room if I wanted to preserve that time.

"Think (Y/N). Think." I circled around the throne and stared at the doors. "Which one did Sarah take. Which one leads to the David Bowie impersonator." I closed my eyes and tried to visualize the scene from the movie. "She comes in and it's..." I turned slightly and opened my eyes. The doorway matched what I remembered from the film. "There." Running through, I took in the new maze. Smiling to myself, I walked to the edge and looked out of the staircase world.

"(Y/N)!" My friend called out for me. I waved down to them and took a deep breath, preparing to jump down the center.

"Expecting a song?" The voice made me jump and I turned around, putting some distance between myself and the edge. Jareth was leaning against the wall, playing with a crystal. "You won't get one." I smiled softly at him and shook my head.

"Didn't think I would." I looked over my shoulder and took a step back. I looked back at Jareth as he pushed off the wall. "Besides, you wouldn't get into it too much. I know what to do." He smirked and walked right up to me. We were standing nose to nose when he put his hand on my shoulder.

"Then do it." He whispered before giving me a gentle push. I stepped off at the same time and fell. A new platform materialized under me and I landed carefully, my friend having disappeared again. Jareth entered from a new doorway. "I assume you know what's coming." I nodded and Jareth rolled his eyes. "Then formalities and such." He waved his hand and I tried to stifle my laugh. It brought a smile to his face. "(Y/N)," my breath hitched as he said my name. Maybe Hoggle was right. "beware. I have been generous, up until now and I can be cruel."

"Generous?" I tried to fight the smile that was growing. "What have you done that's generous?" Jareth smirked at me, clearly seeing how amusing I found all of this.

"Everything." There was something about his tone that made me question all of my life's choices until that point. "Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that your friend be taken. I took them. You cowered before me. I was frightening. I have reordered time, I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you. I'm exhausted from living up to your expectations of me." He circled me. All I could do was watch him. Doubt was growing in me. Doubt that I could say the words. Doubt that going back was what I really wanted. Doubt that I could leave him behind. Doubt I could forget about him. "Isn't that generous?" His gaze softened as he came to a stop in front of me.

"I-I..." I looked around him, desperate not to look him in the eye. "Through dangers untold..." I fought to find something in me that wanted to go back. Something to focus on so I didn't have to make that choice while looking at him. "Dangers untold and hardships...." Jareth watched me, regarding me kindly and curiously. When it was clear I wasn't going to recite my part, he took control.

"Stop. Wait." He held up a crystal, taking a step closer to me. "Look (Y/N). Look at what I'm offering you." His voice had taken on a soft quality. When he didn't continue, I looked away from the crystal, meeting his eyes.

"My dreams." I whispered out. He shook his head but gave me a chance to continue. But I didn't take it.

"I ask for so little." Jareth took another step towards me. "Just let me rule you and you can have everything that you want." He had lowered the crystal, nearly letting it drop as his other hand reached out and gently took mine. His thumb ran over my knuckles, waiting for me to make a decision. I shook my head, the thoughts running rampant as I tried to find any reason to go. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave." Jareth whispered, gently pulling me closer to him. "The choice is yours. I've done all I must." Slowly reaching up, I cupped his cheek.

"My friend will return?" He nodded, gently leaning into my touch. "And I won't become a goblin?" He shook his head with an amused smile.

"Where would you get an idea like that?" He chuckled. "Your friend will return to your world. If you choose to stay, you will remain as you are. With me. If that is what you so choose." Jareth watched me carefully. Letting go of his hand, I reached out for the crystal. "You need to be sure." He warned. I nodded.

"I'm sure." I touched the crystal just as Jareth leaned forward and kissed me. The world around us shimmered as we were returned to the throne room. Jareth pulled away, smiling softly at me. I looked around the room, surprised by the subtle use of magic. A second throne had appeared next to the first.

"For you." He whispered as he watched me take my seat.

[lavv0]

“normalise naming your kid after something you love”:

goodnight scene from tcoptp where:

“brown?” james grimaced next to them “like what kind of brown?” sirius’s eyes dropped as if trying to scan remus from head to toe, eventually coming to rest on his face again, looking him straight in the eye. “a very specific kind…”

the cadence of part time poets -motswolo

(I love this fanfic with all my fucking heart)

[satelitis]

“remus loves david bowie” yeah well have u thought abt how james & lilly would love abba , marlene would love the runaways, regulus would love bob dylan & mary would love fleetwood mac? i bet not.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

David Bowie made a four hour long Luigi movie that was specifically fanfiction & not official, sadly the dream moved on to me making soap and one of the scents exploding before I could watch it. :(

[hotpinkboots]

~~~~~

~"𝓜𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌"~

(Jareth the Goblin King x Fem!Reader Oneshot)

Summary: (Y/N) is woken up by her annoying boyfriend, who reluctantly makes up for his bothersome behavior.

How long it took to write: 1 hour

~~~~~

𝕵𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖍 was an early riser. He enjoyed the quietness of the morning. He enjoyed watching over you as you began your early stages of awakening, stretching your legs and giving a sleepy grunt. Most mornings, he allowed you to wake up whenever you wished to, and to sleep as long as you needed.

Other times, he woke up feeling cheeky. One of the greatest perks of being married was to have somebody to annoy.

Sometimes, he'd be so excited for you to wake up that he'd kiss your cheek until you opened your eyes. Other times, he would send a goblin in to spook you awake. You hated that. He got a kick out of it.

Your favorite way of being woken up was the rare occasion that Jareth would turn into an owl for you. He didn't do it often- perhaps he didn't wish for you to see him as cute. Jareth used to think he looked like a noble winged beast as a barn owl, but you seemed to think that he was a cute feathered gentleman. This put him in an odd space, somewhere in between his ego being stroked and feeling exasperated.

Jareth lay on his side, his head propped up by his hand. He looked down at you as you began your first signs of consciousness, giving you a good morning kiss on the cheek. You furrowed your brows, which in turn caused him to smirk and give a brief chuckle under his breath.

"Oh, poor (Y/N). Do I bother you already?" Jareth asked quietly, fondly brushing his knuckle down your jawline. Seeing you scrunch up your nose and flinch away only made Jareth's desire to be annoying even greater.

"Stop," you demanded in a low and hoarse tone. Jareth responded by continuing to pester you in subtle but loving ways- nudging you gently, kissing you tenderly, until you finally turned away from him. The moment you mumbled an angry curse at him was the moment he realized he had gone too far to annoy you.

"Forgive me, darling," apologized Jareth.

You waved him away dismissively.

Jareth's eyes drifted shut. He sighed quietly in defeat.

The next thing you knew, something soft and feathery was gently bumping into the back of your neck. Your eyes opened immediately, a sleepy smile growing upon your lips. You turned once again, this time to face him. Jareth nuzzled into you, cooing and fluffing up his feathers.

"You're so cute!" You gushed over him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Jareth hopped back and raised his wings defensively, hoping you'd get the general message of "look, don't touch". Unfortunately for him, it was impossible for you to obey this rule, especially since you knew that he secretly enjoyed it when you fawned over him.

Eventually, Jareth found a comfortable spot against your chest, allowing you to pet and pamper him. You never expected him to be so cuddly. You enjoyed the silence of the morning together, when the goblins hadn't yet awakened, when the world was quiet. You exhaled drowsily.

"I forgive you."

~~~~~

Request Guidelines!

~Love, Pink

[starspice-y]

My beautiful daughter if she wasn't ninja c-sectioned and post ninja c-section 💜

From the fanfic Fortuna Primigenia by @ss-shitstorm

[raccoonfallsharder]

･:*𑁍 overheard on the bowie [anticipated august 2]

18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | oneshot | word count: TBD.

rocket laments building the bowie with such thin walls between bunks. ie, you haven’t been able to get off in a while, and your neighbor knows it.

i am having too much fun writing this because apparently while i ultimately want to be a benevolent god who gives rocket only happy endings, i apparently have no qualms with torturing him with sexual frustration in the meantime.

nsfw after the cut

He’d looked up at you, your eyes all shiny and plush lips framing the words, Can I help you with something? Do you need anything? and the only words that had come to his mind were, Sweetheart. Can I help you?

Because the worst part of it is — you’ve been so unlucky.

He continues to stare at the dark ceiling, palms resting on his chest, and wishes he’d stolen Pete’s zune. Stick the little headphones into his ears and distract himself for a little while.

“Slow down, princess,” he mutters into the shadows. He’s usually got no qualms against eavesdropping in general but he wouldn’t try to listen in on this. Unfortunately for both of you, there’s no world in which he can avoid hearing it: the steady soft schlick-schlick of your pussy lips rubbing wetly against each other, or maybe your fingers, if you’ve got them stuffed cutely inside your pretty hole. Your shallow, reedy little breaths, puffing over lips he’s sure you’ve bitten raw. The rustle of the blankets as you shift and try to adjust yourself: legs opening wider, he imagines. Or maybe he’s wrong and you’re not going too fast and hard at your little clitty: maybe you’ve hit the right pace for yourself, and your knees are locking and your toes are curling and you’ll both — finally — get some relief tonight.

But nope. He can hear you, winding yourself tighter and tighter, higher and higher, more and more desperate. A quiet, pitiful little whispered word — “please” — to the gods, like they’ll finally take mercy on you. But he’s listened to you enough times that he can pinpoint the moment that your desperation turns into frustration, and then despair. There’s a sad little muffled whimper — pressed into a handful of blankets, he’s sure — and then the sounds of your strokes slow, and finally cease. A soft, miserable sigh, and the whisper of skin on skin — you rubbing your thighs together in resignation, he suspects.

He rolls over in his hammock and screams into his pillow.

[staarboyyy]

unexpected morning - chapter ii [ prev. ]

thomas shelby x gender neutral reader | specified anatomy

18+ characters / scenarios - minors dni

tags / warnings ; smoking, fluff, morning sex, oral sex, power imbalance, overstimulation, reluctant feels, thomas shelby please have emotions?? please?? LMAO, irresponsible beta read we die like real men

summary ; thomas warms you up on a cold morning in the office.

word count ; 2.5k

a/n ; yaaall im so sorry this took so long! requests will be open soon <3 love u all, thank you so much for the support!

     The morning started as any other would - A strike of a match, a sip of whiskey here and there, and keeping the curtains shut despite the assaulting sunlight. Thomas' temples pulsed, heart flooding his ears as his thumbs rubbed the aching space, elbows resting on his desk. He glared down at the neat stack of papers, cursing himself for organizing everything simply to avoid actually reading through them all. In truth, he drank far too much last night. It coated his teeth, breath burning with expensive liquor as he grunted his way from bed.

     Where had you gone? The few hours after the events of the night prior gave way for many opportune moments to escape; Flee in the dark, tell the secrets you learned in sharp whispered turned toward your family. And yet as he watched you leave in the warm morning sun caught his breath. He could not put to words the affect your body had on him, simultaneously intoxicating and ruthelessly sobering. Come to your fucking senses, Thomas.

He watched you slide your clothes over your bare skin, back turned toward him as you dressed yourself quietly. You were careful to collect your things, move them closer towards the door to silently redress yourself and scramble home - Maybe leave a note? You were unsure, hand swimming amongst the fabric of your thick jacket. You could leave a note, though he had enough papers on his desk already; Perhaps a sketch? Your ridiculous yet compelling idea was cut off as the shift of the wooden panels beneath your feet shifted, steps padding toward you in a slow practiced manner.

     The fire still crackled quietly as you turned, holding your folded jacket over your bare chest as he approached you slowly, lips slightly ajar. Thomas dawned his undershirt, buttons loosely undone, sleeves rolled up and suspenders pulled tight over his wide shoulders. His slacks were wrinkled, unbuttoned, hair ruffled. Surely he had to know how he practically oozed sex appeal, ciggarette hung between his index and middle finger as he sauntered closer. You could nearly feel his breath against your own when his steps came to a stop, eyes gliding over your shifting expression.

     "Terribly cold this early in the morning."

     Thomas murmured faintly, voice crackling with the veil of exhaustion that still shackled him. The sun had hardly passed through the clouds that stuffed the morning sky, clogging the sunrise with a thick shadow. The light in the room shifted, the sun caked in pillowed clouds. He was right. You were awfully cold. Steadily, you dropped the coat from your hands - You hadn't gotten far in getting dressed, only able to pull on your underwear and socks before Thomas caught you. Was that correct to feel like you had been caught? You wondered how long he'd been watching.

     "Are you cold, Mr.Shelby?"

     You asked, hands reaching forward for your palms to meet his chest. It was sturdy, his eyes following yours, blinking slowly as his arms moved to instinctually draw you closer. One arm hooked around your middle, the other that still held the ciggarette over your shoulder. With a shake of his head, his palm rubbed your back in small circles. It was warm, thawing the rising goosebumps that gardened over your body.

     Your heart pounded as you pressed against him. Just his touch was enough to send swimming waves of new sensations through you. You wanted his touch  - wanted to cling to him in a way that was almost desperate. But the warmth he offered was not the only kind you wanted; You wanted to burn. You wanted his fire, his passion, his heat. You wanted to feel his teeth and his nails. You wanted him to consume your meaning, take your mind and bend it to something you could never begin to imagine.

     He was more dangerous now to you than ever. No amount of guns, no explosions or bloodshed would quite tear you down as much as the look in his eyes in this moment. Recognition. Understanding. It felt real, you wanted so badly for it to all be real, to be - In love. To try, atleast.

     You should have run the moment he set his eyes on you. Far away, further than he could ever find you.

     He took another drag from his cigarette, the smoke clouding his expression as he leaned forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. You shied away from the sudden contact, but he only pulled you closer.

    “Come here.” His voice was rough with exhaustion, yet still commanded a cold respect. You could feel yourself being drawn in ever-closer to his warmth, his strength, his presence. You couldn’t help but lean into it; To yearn for it. The cigarette dangled casually from his lips, a small puff of ash falling to the floor before he plucked it, flicking it away from you in a quiet movement. He didn't even bother to glance where it landed as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

    You were trapped within the grasp of desire, both the desire to run and the desire to give in. To fall from the world, let it slide away as his hands caught your hips, unwavering and strong. He didn't need to stronger and bigger than you, there was no threat. You didn’t need to be afraid. His lips were gentle, tasting of smoke and whiskey. You pressed back, feeling a burst of heat racing throughout your body; His lips tasted the same as the night prior, yet the gentleness of his pace was in stark contrast to it. In a slow shift, your hands gripped the loose collar of his shirt, keeping him close. He took slow breaths between the slow kiss, eyes lulling open to admire you in a half lidded gaze before letting the fall shut, leaning in once more. It was nearly like he was fighting himself; His urges, how they so tightly clutched his mind, binding him to you like an altar, worshipping you with his hands as they fell and swept over your curves.

     The kiss enraptured you, and then it was gone. His hands remained on you, coming to a slow pause on your hips as his eyes darted to meet yours - Thomas Shelby didn't hesitate, so why now? You pursed your lips slightly, as if trying to relive the feeling of his own pressing against them.

    "This evening, Charles Alabastor will be having a private party at his estate; I'd like you to accompany me. Seeing as your family will be invited."

    Your throat dried - Business. There was always the bitter tang of it, lingering the sips of whiskey and rough drags of rolled tobacco. Even you could feel it, wishing to kiss every inch of that taste, relieve him from the weight of it. Though you knew all too well, even as his palm held your cheek, patience would surely reward you.

     "I'm not sure I have anything to wear."

      There it was again, the small buckle of praise pulling at the corners of his lips as his hand swept from your cheek towards your collar bone. The backs of his fingers were cold, gently brushing over your warm skin as he gave a low shake of his head.

     "You're unsure about quite a bit."

     Had Thomas Shelby just mused at you? You nearly couldn't belive it. The man who ran Birmingham stood with you in the dark of his office, hair ruffled and a smile on his face - Playfully bickering with you? You couldn't help but mirror the expression, eyes darting down to the floor with a quiet sigh. Maybe that comment had been a last ditch effort to get away, a final subconscious excuse to not to fall; And if you did fall, atleast do it while running, not in his arms, urging for him to become impossibly closer to your body.

    It was a feeble attempt.

    "I may have something."

    "Something is good."

     He was a quick one. The more you spoke, the more he did in turn, bouncing from your energy without missing a beat in that cold voice. The draft of his tone came with the presence of his smile, warming the corners of his words as his hands pressed to your hips once again, pulling you closer. You caught yourself then - You wanted to know him. To know what makes him tick, how he takes his tea, who he loves and cherishes, who he'd die for. Was it so wrong? You could see it, somewhere beneath the surfaces of his sharp gaze, to be wanted. Or maybe just held. Perhaps that would do for now, you thought.

     Thomas accepted your head leaning against his chest, holding you to his body now with a slow sway. It felt almost like dancing, the creak of the floorboards underfoot making way for a deep symphony, rooting itself in your mind as you matched his pace. Intimacy, the only word you could use to describe the moment as your bare chest pressed to his, your heartbeat rushing in tune. Percussions crashed as you lifted your head, love letters written themselves in your mind, sealed when your lips met his once more. He accepted this as well, eyes falling shut and fingers instinctively slipping to your thighs. He squeezed slowly, taking his time to feel you, understand how you moved against him - This is why he waited. Thomas wanted to experience you.

     Your heart thrummed as his grasp pulled you towards his now moving body, stepping backwards and leading you to his bedroom - It was small, a temporary place to sleep during late nights at the office, yet none of it mattered as your back met the mattress. You swallowed, throat drying at the sight of his back turned to you, closing the door with one hand and shrugging off his suspenders with the other. His shoulders were wide, the white undershirt tightening over his body as he pulled his over his head, dropping it carelessly to the floor as he turned. His gaze met yours in a silent beat, eyes lulling over your body, savoring it's vulnerable pose - And in a slow movement, he was on the floor before you. It felt wrong, reversed; Yet even as he knelt before you, he was in control. As his fingers worked your stockings down your legs, stark blue eyes pinning you to the spot as his rough palms groped over your thighs. You watched, legs opening for him slightly with a hitched breath, cheeks flushing. Last night, he hadn't gotten this close, this intimate - Yet as he pushed a warm kiss to the inside of your thigh, it began to melt away. His tongue slid greedily over the skin, teeth nipping as he traveled lower, going to gently rub your heat over your underwear with his thumb. He moved in slow circles, pressing into the cotton as his teeth sunk into your flesh with a quiet groan. You shuddered quietly, hips rocking into his thumb as your eyes stayed on his expression - It was as if work never existed. Business was a waste of time in comparison to simply tasting you. The budding warmth of his tongue replaced his thumb, soaking the underwear with a teasing chuckle. It was unexpected, riddled with a distinct darkness, his teeth pulling at the waistband - It was slow. Agonizingly slow as he pulled down steadily, keeping his eyes on yours until your damp underwear hit the floor.

     Thomas' mouth was always warm when he kissed you, yet the heat that spread through your veins as he pressed his lips to your clit, a fire began to light itself deep within you. Your back arched instinctually, body shifting over the mans creaking mattress as you attempted to draw him closer to you. Your hands slid over his shoulders, threading through his hair as you sighed softly, content with the tease of what was to come. His tongue began slowly at first, the flat of it sliding obscenely between your folds as a pace that demanded your absolute attention. You could feel the tip of his tongue prod lightly against your entrance, dragging it until it reached your clit once again, lips wrapping over it with a pleased hum. You took in a sharp breath, hips flinching as your legs made a weak attempt to close them, the feeling of his teasing edging closer to a sparking pleasure you knew all too well. But not even a moment after you moved, his large hand came to palm at your thigh, pinning it down roughly to the bed; His eyes were closed, focused on the taste of you on his now lashing tongue, other arm hooking over your opposite hip to keep you in place despite your growing writhing.

    The fire grew, each whip of his tongue against your clit stoking the insatiable flames that knashed at your body. It was electric. Nearly impossible. New to you, the sensation of a man like him knelt before you, messily lapping up anything you were willing to give him, letting your arousal run down his chin and jaw. The noises he drew from you were angelic, sliding through the fogging air as sweat dewed on Thomas' brow; In contrast, the sound of his tongue invading your body and mind was obscene. Messy, saliva stringing from his tongue as he groaned deeply against your sensitive body. The fire sparked dangerously, hot coals threatening to spill over the edges of what you could control - It would set the whole city ablaze, surely. You gave a sharp yelp as his fingers moved to spread you open, diving as deeply as you would allow him, tongue darting in and out as you wrenched your eyes shut tightly. It was a hot white flash, body and mind numbing as Thomas moaned on, perhaps even murmuring to himself into your soaked cunt as you came on his lips and tongue, rolling your hips with a drawn out mewl.

     A strike of a match brought you to, eyes sliding open quickly as sweat rolled down your temple - Though upon seeing Thomas beside the rather empty bed you relaxed yourself slightly. Glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, a book sat open on his naked lap as his eyes fell to yours; You must have fallen into that blanketing heat, letting it drape over your shoulders in something near an embrace. The chaste expression on Thomas' face was soft, lacing in his furrowed brow as he moved to pull his glasses from his nose. He set them on the small desk in front of him, using his palms to rise from the wooden seat with a quiet grunt. Making his way to you came with a wave of smoke, the smell of his aftershave sharp on your senses as he took a slow seat beside you.

     "I found the perfect thing for you to wear."

     It was not a request anymore - Hesitantly, you felt yourself give a slight nod as his large hand came to hold your cheek. He mirrored the motion, nodding back to you as his thumb met your chin, lifting your head to find your gaze in the quiet moment.

"Will you accompany me?"

As Thomas spoke your hand met his, fingers intertwining with a soft hum - You wanted so badly to feel it. To step into a room by Thomas' side, dawning clothing perfectly made for you, eyes glued to the pair of you as he wore a smugly proud expression. Yet you knew deep down what it was, and what it had to remain; Business. Though dwelling in your imagination pillowed with the feeling of his lips on your own drew a response.

"Of course."

[janaem]

Let Me Rule You

Jareth x f.reader

This is Chapter 2 (Wish) | previous chapter Word count: 5.5k (22 pages) Warnings for this chapter: swearing, arguments, blood, use of weapons Key:Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name |d/n= dog name header image is an oil painting by licieoic

The rest of the day was Y/n spending time in her room reading Labyrinth. She was sprawled lazily on her bed on her back, one of her windows cracked as she felt the warm summer dusk breeze tickle her skin.

She began to feel familiar with the intricate details and made mental comparisons between the novel and the movie. Despite only watching the film once, Y/n felt as though she remembered all of it; it was tattooed in her brain, and she didn't intend to forget it.

Every time she immersed herself in Jareth's dialogue, she couldn't help but hear it in his deep, captivating voice, which sent shivers down her spine as if he was standing right behind her, softly whispering in her ear. She longed for his words from the book to be portrayed in the movie, but reading allowed her to envision Jareth's dialogues in a way that was uniquely her own. It felt like she was directing a personal movie in her mind, one that she never wanted to end.

She was more than halfway through the book when she set it down and grabbed her phone, ignoring the notification on her lock screen. She opened a music app and looked up the Labyrinth soundtrack, scrolling to the song that she couldn't quite resist the most.

She put on her headphones, her left hand in the spot in the book where she left off, and pressed play, allowing the music to electrify her senses like a sudden bolt of lightning.

"How you turn my world into a precious thing…"

His voice trembled with vulnerability and longing, sending a wave of heat rushing down her body. She couldn't help but shut her eyes, savoring the electric sensation as she pictured Jareth in his sleek black leather waistcoat and vibrant red long-sleeved shirt.

"You starve and near exhaust me."

"Everything I've done, I've done for you…"

"I move the stars for no one."

She swallows a lump in her throat. Her eyes began to sting. She allows his evocative voice to seize her senses.

"You've run so long, you've run so far…"

"Your eyes can be so cruel."

As Y/n listened to the melancholic tunes, a sudden rush of excitement overwhelmed her, a feeling she hadn't experienced while listening to a song in a long time.

In her mind's eye, she envisioned Jareth striding towards her, his hand outstretched, offering a crystal ball filled with dreams. She imagined him staring intensely at her with a daring look, his thin lips forming a seductive smirk so captivating that Y/n could swear she felt her body pulsating with anticipation. Her eyes remained fixed on Jareth; her heart seemed to leap into her throat in that instant.

"Just as I can be so cruel."

She found herself unable to pinpoint the exact reason for her attraction. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of his drowsy yet intense gaze and angular eyebrows accentuating his sly grin, or maybe it was the hypnotic timbre of his voice. His words seemed to caress her like a sudden rush of water trickling down her goosebump ridden skin. She so desperately wanted to open her mouth and shamelessly consume it, letting it drip down the corners of her mouth—into her throat.

"Oh, I do believe in you…"

Y/n started to picture herself reaching for the ball; her focus momentarily fixed. Jareth let it settle into her grasp as he continued to outstretch a gloved hand towards her chin. The leather cool against her skin as he gently caressed it. Y/n draws irresistibly closer, feeling the pulsating between her thighs intensify.

Jareth's thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip with deliberate slowness, igniting a flutter of anticipation within her. She stumbled slightly, finding herself leaning into his embrace, allowing his arm to snake around the small of her waist. The sensation of his breath brushing against her face made her close her eyes in surrender.

Her lips parted further, ready for whatever he was going to give her the minute he started to inch closer....

Y/n was suddenly startled by rapid thumping on the windowpane.

She lifted her head up only to see nothing.

"The hell?" She questioned irritably, for no tree branches barely brushed her window. She huffed and thumped her head against her bed, looking up at the ceiling, disappointed that she'd lost her train of thought. But what wasn't lost was the aching between her thighs.

"Y/n, I would appreciate it if I could get some help around here," her mother called from downstairs sarcastically, "you've been upstairs all day. I've barely seen you."

With an exasperated huff, Y/n rolled out of bed, descending the spiral of dark wooden stairs.

M/n was seen chopping up garlic for a salad; she loved to add garlic to almost every meal because it was healthy. Y/n couldn't stand it.

"Can you chop up the lettuce, please?" M/n requested that the garlic pieces be put into the wooden salad bowl. And what have you been doing all day?"

"Reading," Y/n replied dryly, taking a knife and cutting the lettuce stem.

"What book did you get?" M/n asked, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a cucumber from one of the bottom shelves.

"It's called Labyrinth. It's based on a movie I watched last night."

"So that's what you were doing instead of helping. Stuck on a movie and a book that will do you no good."

"Mom, enough."

"What about your prep for college? Did you sign up for your orientation like you were supposed to?"

"Mom, please, I completed those things weeks ago, and you know that. My orientation isn't until next month!"

"I'm sure there are more things you need to complete." M/n continued grabbing the pieces of lettuce y/n and placing them in the salad bowl. At this point, she was interrogating the poor girl.

"I was only having leisure time, that's all," Y/n replied with slumped shoulders, for she was tired of going back and forth.

"You always have leisure time," M/n shot back, "you don't do anything-"

"Alright, that's enough! I don't wanna hear it anymore!"

M/n stopped her work and turned to Y/n with eyes of fire as if she were about to tear her apart.

"Who are you raising your voice at?" She asked slowly.

“What- I-“ y/n stammered.

"No, no, no," M/n's voice was louder, filling the quiet space of the kitchen; Y/n couldn't help but wince, "Who do you think you're talking to?"

Before Y/n could answer, her mother grabbed her arm so hard, digging her fingertips into her flesh.

"No, you listen to me-" M/n began, her voice plummeting fiercely into Y/n's eardrums.

"No! I'm not going to listen to you. Why? Because I'm an adult, and I am sick and tired of you treating me like a child!" Y/n's voice erupted with anger as she forcefully tore her arm from her mother's grip, surprised at how easily it came free. She stepped back, her chest heaving with frustration and resentment.

"You're never satisfied with me, no matter what I do! All you care about is being 'productive,' but it's just controlling! You expect everyone to think and act the way you do, and when they don't, you act like they're wrong!" Her words sliced through the air like knives, each one laced with years of pent-up frustration and hurt.

Her eyes blazed with defiance, daring her mother to challenge her.

Y/n's mother scoffed dismissively, her tone dripping with condescension. "Y/N, give me a break. I'm not falling for whatever tactic this is anymore. This has gone on for too long, and you need to be more mature. You haven't lifted a finger in days, and your dad isn't even here! All you think about is yourself, and I'm tired of repeating myself over and over again. If you want to be treated like an adult, then start acting like one."

Her words landed like a verbal slap, stoking the fire of Y/n's frustration even further. The accusation of selfishness cut deep, but Y/n refused to back down.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Mom, you've hindered my maturity and growth for however long. You never give me a chance to think about things-"

"I wish you would blame me for the way you turned out. You simply don't think."

"That's because growing up, you always had to think for me," Y/n asserted, taking a deliberate step forward. "The reason my friends are so mature and independent is because their parents leave them the hell alone."

"Do you have to swear, Y/n," M/n's mom questioned, shaking her head, "you bless the devil by doing that."

"Oh no, the devils gonna get me," Y/n mocked, throwing her mother off a bit, "so be it."

Y/n and her mother stood in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering tension. M/n's initial surprise shifted into a deep disappointment as she absorbed the gravity of the situation. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she began to nod, her thoughts racing for a response.

"You're grounded; hand me your phone, computer, remote, and that book. We're finished here."

The words landed like a heavy blow to Y/n's chest, each item listed a tangible loss in the sudden turn of events. Her mother's decree was final, leaving no room for negotiation or reconciliation at that moment.

"What-why the book? I haven't even finished it–"

"That's alright. Once you're finished with it, I expect it to be turned in. You won't be seeing it until you're packed for college."

That managed to ease y/n's surging anger, keeping it at bay. But why for so long?

Stinging of tears threatened to spill over. Y/n turned away from her mother without a word and headed upstairs, her steps heavy with the weight of frustration and hurt. She closed the door to her room firmly behind her, shutting out the world and the echoes of their heated exchange.

"Phone, computer, and remote!" Her mom shouted from upstairs.

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n muttered. She took the labyrinth book from her bed and looked over its crimson cover, tracing her thumb and feeling its smoothness. Frustration started to course through her veins, knowing that she wouldn't see it for a while after she'd finished it.

She stacked her laptop and phone on top of her desk, oblivious to the various thumping noises she was making.

She went downstairs, not planning to speak to her mother.

She sets the stack on the counter, ignoring M/n's "thank you."

Y/n was more than halfway through the book, with only 35 pages to go. She wasn't a slow reader; she just wanted to soak in every detail the Labyrinth had to offer, making sure to picture each interaction and character vividly. That's what she loved about books: the ability to visualize and submerge herself into foreign lands better than her own.

Back in her room, she sinks into the plush covers of her bed and continues to delve into the land of the Labyrinth, mentally noting each character individually.

Y/n found herself really liking Sarah's character, especially how she kept her cool through such a complex maze of challenges. She admired Sarah's resourcefulness and how she brought her friends into the mix to boost her chances against Jareth.

What really stood out to Y/n was the depth and detail in the book compared to the movie. It gave her a better understanding of the characters' thoughts and feelings, which she loved analyzing. Getting more insight into Sarah's relationship with her mom was a big plus too—it added a whole new layer of emotion and understanding.

She paid close attention to Jareth and was especially shocked when he kissed Sarah in the ballroom.

"That's weird," Y/n muttered as she thoroughly read the scene, "they didn't kiss in the movie."

"Trust me," Jareth said, moving his face close to hers. "Can you do that?"

"Jesus." Y/n breathed, feeling the tension through the words.

As Y/n delved deeper into the chapter where the Junk Lady attempts to distract Sarah with materialistic temptations, she found herself captivated by the poignant symbolism woven into the narrative.

Y/n looked up from the spot, her hand placed gently on where she stopped, eyes furrowed, and lips parted.

"This is quite literally all a setup. The Labyrinth seems more than a maze full of convoluted riddles and pathways." Y/n pondered as she suddenly stopped reading.

Her thoughts started swirling with the parallels between Sarah's journey in the Labyrinth and her life aboveground. The more she reflected, the more convinced she became that something was orchestrated about Sarah's challenges. No doubt Jareth was behind it all, but there was a tint of something else.

"Hoggle was waiting for her... like he knew she was coming," Y/n murmured, tapping her fingers on the page. She remembered how Sarah encountered helpful creatures at almost every turn — the worm, Ludo, even Sir Didymus. Each encounter seemed almost too conveniently timed as if the Labyrinth itself had a hand in guiding her.

"And those doors," Y/n continued, recalling the puzzling moments in the story. "Sarah guessed the riddle correctly, yet ended up in the same place anyway. And the Bog of Eternal Stench, why didn't Sarah smell bad when she hopped on top of those rocks that emerged from the bog water?"

Without warning, the bedroom door slammed open, and M/n stormed in, her sunglasses perched defiantly on her head and her designer purse swinging with purpose.

"Y/n, I need to run to the store. I forgot things for dinner," she declared tersely, not stopping to acknowledge the disarray of Y/n's room or the drawn curtains she criticized. "This room is a disaster. Why are these curtains shut? Open them and let in some light."

Y/n's irritation simmered as she bit her lip, struggling to hold back a retort. She watched with a knot in her stomach as her mother rifled through drawers, criticizing and rummaging through everything in her path.

"Why are your clothes all crumpled? You just did laundry. Why do you always treat your things so carelessly, Y/n?"

"Bye, Mom."

"No, you'll answer me like an adult."

"Adults don't have to answer everything."

"As long as you're under my roof, you will answer every question I ask."

Y/n met her mother's gaze, silently challenging her to leave.

In response, M/n spun around, yanking out armfuls of clothes and flinging them onto the floor with reckless abandon. Drawer after drawer, she created a chaotic landscape of fabric—shirts, jeans, socks—all strewn across the once pristine floor.

Y/n stood frozen in disbelief, her nerves frayed as the room transformed into a battleground of wills. The sight of her belongings tossed aside like meaningless clutter felt like an assault on her sanctuary.

"All these clothes need to be folded properly," M/n commanded, dumping a final heap of swimwear on the growing pile. "And get rid of anything you don't want."

With that final decree, M/n left without waiting for a response, leaving Y/n to confront the aftermath of her fury.

As the echo of the slamming door reverberated through the house, Y/n abandoned the book, got up from the comfort of her bed, and stood amidst the wreckage.

Her chest was tight with unspoken frustration. And right there the helpless girl crumbled.

She sank onto the floor, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions and the crushing weight of expectations she couldn't wrap around.

The room seemed to close around her, the mess a physical manifestation of her mother's control.

She shook, hiccuped, and sobbed loudly, feeling utterly overwhelmed and disconnected from everything around her. She could barely feel her knees pressing against her bedroom floor.

The house phone began to ring.

Groaning, Y/n trudged out of her room and to one of the house phones that was sitting snugly on a dresser.

“Hello?” she answered upon picking it up.

“Y/n, can you please put your remote downstairs? I forgot to tell you that I didn’t see it. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” her mom instructed.

“Yeah.” Y/n answered dismissively.

“Love you, bye.” her mom answered.

Without replying, Y/n hangs up and stomps back to her room.

She walked over to the bed looking for her remote which she knew was submerged in the covers somewhere.

Finally finding it, she grabbed it and turned back to the hefty pile of clothes that were still a heaping mess on the floor. There was one particular pile of clothes that she no longer needed anymore, so she lifted up the small pile.

“I wish the goblins would take mom away,” she plopped the remote on top, “right fucking now.”

She chuckled at her silly joke, deep resentment for her mother continued to rise in her chest.

Y/n descended the stairs with a purpose, tossing the clothes into the familiar "giveaway" box positioned by the garage door. It had become a regular chore for the family, ensuring a steady stream of donations to local centers.

Still clad in her navy blue cami top, gray sweats, and white socks, Y/n ambled into the kitchen, where a neglected salad bowl lay surrounded by remnants of onions, garlic, lettuce, and spring mix. Feeling the pang of hunger, she opted for a quick fix—a frozen bean and rice burrito that she tossed into the microwave.

As the burrito spun, heating up, an unsettling sound reverberated through the house, causing D/n, their faithful companion, to emit a low growl from somewhere distant. Y/n paused, dismissing the noise initially as a stray branch from the backyard trees colliding with a windowpane. She retrieved the now steaming burrito, placing it carefully on a porcelain plate, and relished the first bite—a warm combination of rice, beans, and cheese that elicited a contented hum of pleasure.

But the tranquility shattered as D/n growled again, the thumping sound resuming with increased intensity. Y/n frowned, setting down her half-eaten burrito and swiftly grabbing a knife from the rack near the coffee maker. Though violent incidents were rare in Evansville, her avid consumption of crime shows had prepared her for the possibility of intruders.

With determination etched on her face, she crossed into the living room where the rhythmic thumping persisted that was coming from the large windows. The curtains billowed ominously, threatening to burst with each impact against the glass. D/n stood, tail erect, emitting a series of deep barks and growls that mirrored Y/n's own rising apprehension.

Knife gripped tightly, Y/n cautiously approached the curtains. Her heart raced as an eerie, non-human laugh echoed from her left. She whipped around, knife poised defensively.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice wavering slightly despite her attempt to sound resolute.

Another unsettling giggle pierced the air, mingling with the relentless thumping that had now grown even more frenzied.

A shadow darted behind the flatscreen television, prompting D/n to shift its attention. Y/n pivoted, ready to confront the unseen intruder, her senses heightened.

Then, a furry sensation brushed against her leg. Y/n looked down in alarm, locking eyes with a grotesque creature—a snout twisted and burned, with jagged yellow teeth set against dark fur-covered skin. Its height stopped right below her knee.

Instinctively, she kicked it forcefully, sending the creature tumbling backward onto the couch. Before she could recover, another creature emerged from behind the curtain, emitting a shrill, disturbing laugh that chilled her to the bone.

Y/n and D/n sprang into action, darting around the room in a frantic attempt to corner the elusive intruders. They ignored the persistent thumping now audible from the other window, focusing solely on defending their territory.

Not wasting another moment, Y/n retreated to the kitchen counter where her phone, laptop, and remote lay in a neat stack. With the knife tucked securely under her arm, she dialed 911, her fingers trembling.

Before Y/n could press the dial button, a small, gnarled hand seized her phone, startling her into action.

Her eyes widened as she found herself face to face with a goblin.

Its snout was grotesquely twisted, resembling a pig's, with eyes that were oddly close-set and resembled googly eyes, complete with red irises. The creature sported a rusty helmet atop its misshapen head, its eyebrows mere wisps of hair.

Reacting swiftly, Y/n lunged with her knife, stabbing the goblin squarely in the shoulder. It screeched in pain, its voice cracked and shrill.

"Ahh! She gots me, she gots me! Ahh!" The goblin wailed, writhing in agony.

Y/n didn't hesitate, stabbing again, this time aiming for its eye. The creature bellowed in pain once more, its shrill cries echoing in the room.

Unbeknownst to her, another smaller goblin lurked, ready to pounce from behind. But before it could strike, D/n sprang into action, leaping on the creature and pinning it down with a growl.

"This dog, oh!" The goblin grumbled in a low, grimy voice, clearly displeased with its predicament.

Y/n's phone clattered to the floor amidst the chaos. She moved to retrieve it, only for it to be kicked out of sight in the scuffle.

“Fuck!” she cursed seeing it skid over to the further end of the kitchen. Her hand was bloodied from goblin blood and she felt disgusting, but she had to keep fighting.

Y/n was still knelt on the ground and she peered behind her seeing that D/n had trapped the smaller goblin underneath their weight.

Y/n scurried over and yanked the goblin from their grasp.

“Good boy/girl.” she praised throwing the goblin so that it hit the wall with a thump, knocking it unconscious.

Another goblin, a taller, sturdier one, charged to the direction of her phone that was at the other side of the kitchen by the refrigerator.

"No, no, no!" Y/n gasped, sprinting across the room with her bloodied knife clutched tightly. She reached the goblin just as it raised its ax to smash her phone. With a surge of adrenaline, she grabbed the creature by its neck, struggling with its surprising weight as she hoisted it up and flung it forcefully to the far end of the room.

"I guess going to the gym does pay off at times," she muttered to herself wryly, her heart racing from the exertion. She quickly retrieved her phone, stuffing it into her pocket while scanning her surroundings frantically.

Nearby, the unconscious goblin lay sprawled on the floor, her faithful dog, D/n, was engaged in a fierce struggle with the bloodied goblin, and the third goblin staggered to its feet weakly, attempting to regain its composure after being thrown down.

Y/n took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever might come next. Gripping her knife firmly, she remained on high alert, ready to defend herself against any further threats that dared to invade her home.

“D/n! Come here,” She commanded, and her dog was immediately by her side, “stay by me, okay?”

Y/n and D/n cautiously returned to the living room, the thumping noise still reverberating. Despite her fear, she approached the source of commotion.

With trembling hands, she pulled aside the curtains and was comforted by the sight that made her blood run cold.

A white barn owl, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity, was flapping menacingly at the door. Before Y/n could react, the owl launched itself, shattering the window with a thunderous crash and swooping into the room like a missile.

Y/n gasped in horror, shielding her face as glass shards flew in all directions. She stumbled backwards, landing hard on the cold wooden floor. The shards of glass continued to rain down, and despite her efforts to protect herself, Y/n felt the sting of cuts on her forearm, chest, and face. Pain shot through her, but she clutched her knife tightly, ready to defend herself.

The owl, now inside the room, attacked ferociously. It clawed at Y/n's arms, slapped her with its wings, and tangled its feathers in her hair. Y/n fought back desperately, swinging her knife blindly until the owl finally retreated, leaving her shaken.

As the chaos settled, Y/n slowly rose to her feet, D/n watching her with concern. She gripped the knife tightly, scanning the shattered room. Bile rose in her throat and tears started stinging her eyes once more.

"Mom's gonna fucking kill me," she muttered bitterly, her voice wavering with emotion, “shit.”

"You won't have to worry about that," a voice said, cutting through the tense silence.

Y/n gasped and turned to the direction of the voice.

Leaning against the unshattered window stood a tall, lithe figure, glittering specks scattered at his feet. His black leather boots complemented black tights, and he wore a ruffled black undershirt with a deep vee, topped by a black half corset adorned with intricate designs and buckles. A long, flowing cape draped gracefully to the ground.

She took in his face, noting the striking sharpness of his features. High cheekbones and an angled chin were framed by a wild, tousled mane of blond hair.

"So, this is the thanks I get?" he remarked, his voice laced with bitterness and amusement.

He studied Y/n’s face, dewy with sweat and marked by blood splotches near her eyebrow and upper cheekbone. Her wet lips were parted, and eyes were challenging. His mismatched eyes swiftly scanned her body, noting the strap of the navy blue cami top slipping off her sweaty shoulder. Y/n’s entire body glistened with sweat, a trickle of blood tracing down her pristine chest as it heaved harshly.

"Who the hell are you?" Y/n demanded, though she already had a sinking feeling she knew the answer.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied in a haughty manner, the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Why are you here?" she pressed, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

"Why do you insist on asking questions you already know the answers to?" he retorted, his mismatched eyes glinting with an unsettling intensity.

“This must be a dream or something,” y/n breathed, “because there’s no way David Bowie is in my house right now.”

The male furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at her joke, “what?”

“David Bowie…” Y/n repeated slowly, “are you not…?”

“I don’t know who this Dave Bowel you speak of.”

“Jeez, have some respect for the dead..”

“My condolences.” Jareth replied dryly.

Y/n kissed her teeth, Jareth sarcasm was really on a roll this evening.

Jareth points behind her, “Look there.”

Y/n turned around only to be faced by a clean and ordered room. All of the shards of glass vanished and the window is back in its place.

“You’re free now to do whatever you please.”

“I’m free?” Y/n asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Forget about your mother.”

The knife that was once in Y/n’s hand fell onto the floor with a loud clunk.

“You took my mother?” She said in disbelief.

“Isn’t that what you asked for?” Jareth said with a raised brow, for he found Y/n’s reaction quite amusing.

“But—wait—I was kidding!”

“Were you now?”

“Yes. I won’t say anything like that again I promise! Just please bring my mom back.”

Jareth made his way closer to Y/n until he was only a breath away, their eyes locking like old foes reunited in a clash of wills.

“What comes out of your mouth, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. He outstretched his gloved hand, his fingers grazing her chest, “contradicts the desires of your heart.”

A shiver ran through Y/n at his touch, her breath hitching as she found herself unable to break free from the intensity of his gaze, which bore into her with a fierce and unsettling determination.

“Please.” She whispered.

"Please what?" He trailed his fingers to her jaw, smoothing his thumb along her chin with a maddening slowness.

This touch was more electrifying than she had ever envisioned, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"I'm sure this feels very familiar to you, Y/n," he said slyly, his voice dripping with mischief and unspoken promises.

"What are you-"

"Save the absurd questions for another time," he cut in, his thumb gliding from the curve of her chin to the base of her swollen lips, lingering there with deliberate pressure.

Heat ignited between Y/n's legs once again, more intense and insistent than before.

"There won't be another time," she hissed, tearing her head away hastily, her gaze burning with defiance even as her body betrayed her.

“You are seriously fucked in the head for seducing me into forgetting my own mom.”

“It doesn’t take much to do that.” Jareth retorted in a matter of fact tone.

“Don’t act like you know me. I’m not Sarah!” She spat.

Jarerh’s expression dropped, he irritably sighed, “No you're not,” he regained his composure right then and there, “but you’re just like every other teenage girl.”

“How would you know that?”

“I know the desires of your heart.”

“Like hell you do.”

“Sarah was not the only one who ran my labyrinth.” His voice ran cold suddenly.

“But she was the only one who conquered it.” He finished.

Their eyes stayed locked, and for a long moment, the air between them crackled with electric tension. Neither was willing to back down, both poised on the edge of something inevitable.

“Sometimes I wonder who will be the next conqueror,” Jareth murmured, his voice low and suggestive, his gaze burning into Y/n's.

“So you're suggesting I run the labyrinth to save my mom?” She asked, her voice carrying a challenge of its own.

Jareth smirked.

"Alright," Y/n challenged, bending down to pick up her knife. She flipped it in the air and caught it perfectly. "I'll do it. But don't expect me to give up easily."

"You stabbing and flinging my subjects around proves enough," Jareth replied, looking down at his arm and mockingly brushing it with his hand. "Nearly chopped my wing off with that knife. You are a bold thing." He chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looked back up at her.

"Alright, save it. Where's the Labyrinth?" Y/n pushed irritably, her patience wearing thin.

“Such haste won’t get you anywhere.” Jareth replied.

“But I already know the rules, I’ve watched the movie, I have thirteen hours to solve or my mom will turn into a goblin.” She recited.

Jareth furrowed her eyebrows once more, “Movie?”

Y/n waved her hand dismissively, “Never mind.”

“You’ve read the book. That’s how you know.”

“Uh yeah.” Y/n then started to wonder if Jareth even knew what a movie was.

"But since you're so confident," Jareth started, circling her slowly, his eyes never leaving her, "I'll give you ten hours."

"You can't just do that!" Y/n protested, incredulous at the arbitrary time limit.

"It is my labyrinth where I can do what I please," Jareth replied nonchalantly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"But I never said I was confident; I said I wouldn't give up. There's a difference between determination and cockiness," Y/n retorted, meeting Jareth's challenging gaze head-on.

Jareth's expression tightened, and he took a sharp breath, his stance growing tense as he ceased his circling. Silently, he gestured behind Y/n. Turning, she faced the once shattered window, now revealing the ominous maze of the labyrinth, with the castle looming in the distance like a coveted prize.

"Looks challenging doesn’t it?" Jareth taunted, leaning close to her ear, his breath tickling the nape of her neck.

"Ten hours. That's all you've left me," Y/n huffed bitterly.

Jareth snorted, his demeanor shifting as he backed away from her. "I'm simply treating you as you wish to be treated," he countered.

Turning to face him, Y/n's eyes narrowed. "And how is that?" she challenged, bracing herself for his next barb.

"Like an adult," he shot back, his voice slicing through the tense silence like a blade.

Y/n fought to maintain her composure, her heart racing at his words.

"Such a pity," Jareth added, his tone cold and cutting.

Ignoring his provocations, Y/n began to stride forward, only to halt abruptly.

"My dog," she exclaimed, looking back, but Jareth had vanished.

From behind a nearby tree emerged D/n, wagging their tail in greeting.

"D/n!" Y/n exclaimed joyfully, scooping up her furry companion in a tight embrace.

"Ten hours," Jareth's voice echoed ominously.

Startled by his sudden reappearance through his voice alone, Y/n quickly rose to her feet and proceeded down the sloping path towards the labyrinth's entrance.

"Let's do this."

[dumbnotstupidfuck]

𝑭𝒊𝒄-𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

(bc im sick of pinning everything)

ao3 here

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔

𝚃𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 - 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭��𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵-𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘱𝘳𝘦-𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘦.

𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎 - 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝/𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘳-𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯-𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝙸𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕 - 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝/𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵. 𝘖𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭.

𝙲𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 - 𝙳𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺. 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 - 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝/𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙽𝚘 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘝𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦.

𝑴𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 - 3/? - 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗/𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎/𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘫𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘣 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 ���𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴.

𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 - 2/4 - 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗/𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎/𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝/𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘝𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘯𝘢𝘮 𝘞𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘜𝘚𝘖 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘦.

𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 - 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 - 2/2 - 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊/𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭.

𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕

𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 - 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚎𝚡/𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩.

└── •✧• ──┘

𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘳𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭

𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵

𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴

𝘵𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘦

𝘳𝘢𝘫𝘣𝘰𝘸

[nipsych]

jareth layin some nasty dunks over lebron james

[musicoftheheart]

i feel like ive reached my peak marauders fan vibe

currently writing a black brothers bonding fic while listening to david bowie, dressed like sirius black

last night at work i almost called my colleague “remus”, realised my mistake and switched to “regulus”, gave up and swore to merlin

is there another level or have i achieved life goals (read: the most ive needed therapy since i was fourteen)

[crescenthoax]

“Golden child, lion girl; tell me what it's like to conquer. Fearless child, broken boy; tell me what it's like to burn.”

Aegon gave up on her. He and his family moulded her into this thing. This assassin and pawn and Queen and mother and maid, all at once. And she managed to ace each of their tests with flying colours, excelling at each one until it was too much for them. She could forgive him for everything, except for that. Except for giving up and getting bored with the horrible person he created.

i’m never gonna love (again) - chapter xxxvi