#i have a hard time just throwing pieces at people until i've gone through them a bunch of times lol

[queenerdloser]

i made it one of my new years resolutions this year to try and get fifty rejections from lit mags and publishing houses because honestly??? part of my problem with ever submitting my original fiction is that it’s really hard to do it and get rejected and feel good about that, so in the end it feels easier just to never submit anything. but that gets me nowhere!! so i’m trying to trick my brain into thinking that if we get accepted, great! but if we get rejected, it means that we’re actually closer to our goal, which is also good! excellent!

which has helped because i’ve actually submitted to several places during the first few weeks of january and it helps me submit stuff even that i don’t know are up to snuff, because in the end i can be like... well even if they reject it, that’s another tally for my rejection goal, sweet! so it makes it easier to submit pieces that i’m on the fence about, whereas before i would wait and wait and edit and edit until they felt perfect. 

[hurpdurpburps]

Astoria: Fate's Kiss Is Getting Re-released On 25 July, Here Are Some Things You Should Keep In Mind

Most people don't know it (until now I guess), but I'm the founder of, and have been running the @ls-salvation-squad project since Christmas 2021. I hardly interact with the LS community outside of the project server in a personal capacity as I've largely left the fandom around 6 months before the announcement of the app's closure.

I was pretty late to the game (pun intended), having only learnt about the app in 2020, but managed to be around for 'milestone events' such as the writers' strike and the DMCA rampage on YouTube/tumblr. Thanks to certain friends and technology, I've also had privileged access to a quasi-'insider look' into Voltage's workings (and failings) as a studio, both in real time and through secondhand horror stories of the past.

This culmination of experiences has spurred me to make my first, and last, personal opinion piece regarding LS on tumblr, a corner of the community that I haven't really interacted much with.

While I understand the sheer joy, relief and excitement that comes with revived, legal access to some of the most impressive, unapologetically queer stories to have ever graced the internet, I want to point out the ugly truths that are intertwined with the revival of this troubled app:

Buying the game =/= supporting the creators. Not a cent of your money goes towards them. Even when Voltage USA used to be a thing, barely any of it went towards the employees in general either. The writers were paid 3 cents/word, and producers were working twice as hard but only paid around half of their counterparts in other companies. AFAIK the artists have kept quiet but it would be more of a surprise if they were treated any better than their peers.

Buying the game =/= supporting queer content/community. This might come as a shocker, but homophobia ran rampant within Voltage's management. The best evidence of this can be found in their history of 'peculiar' business or creative decisions - and they've made a fuckton of bad choices. Fun fact; the first queer routes were only made possible via sheer force of will of a particular producer. I'm not at liberty to share the nitty gritty on this public platform as the stories aren't mine, but maybe if you asked some of the former staff nicely, they might give you cryptic hints.

You're gonna be paying them a THIRD time. Many of us have already shelled out hundreds of dollars on heart choices - not once, but twice. Putting the whole version on Steam/Switch had always been a valid option from the beginning of the end, but they chose not to do it. Why? Because users scrambling to make bulk purchases of tickets and hearts to record routes as a last hurrah meant a last, fat cash-in. Not to mention the fact that they're selling the game at US$30 per series, for almost decade-old content, presumably without any new additions. At this point, throwing your hard earned money at them AGAIN is just rewarding scummy management and unscrupulous business models.

Do you really need to? Our team of around 100 archivists worked tirelessly in Q1 of 2022 to provide you high quality recordings of every single route. We've gone so far as to acquire recordings of pre-LS Voltage content such as Queen's Gambit and all of the soundtracks. We've put assets up for download. There are a dozen passionate creators out there who have been updating their Ren'Py recreations so that you can scratch your itch - and all for free!!! What more could you possible want or need that only the greedy bastards at Voltage can give you - apart from seeing your custom MC name on the screen and the absolutely inconsequential choices B & C that our videos didn't cover?

Is this a call for a boycott? I guess not really, or at least I didn't consciously set out to make it like this. Dissuading others from purchasing legal access to media when it's easily available goes against my general principle about responsibly and pragmatically supporting creators. And as one 'em Gays™, I know the preciousness of possessing Queer Stories Written By Queer People.

But I was concerned at what seemed to be a wave of happiness and eagerness at news of the revival, without any mention of the absolute shit show that has led us to this very point. There's a very big part of me that's absolutely pissed at being taken for a ride. News of the revival has been a bittersweet development for us all, especially those who have poured their time, money and energy over the past 2.5 years into salvaging what was thought to be a lost piece of queer media - only to find out that all that effort might only get them a slap to the face in the form of a DMCA from the grave. So yeah, fuck you Voltage.

TLDR: You should really save your money for more ethical, indie developers who have the decency to not mock your consumer intelligence. I don't think it's a crime against humanity if you end up buying it after all, but just think about it yeah?

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 2.20.2024

Well, I had another very solid week. I hesitate to call it good, because I didn't actually enjoy it very much, but I did grind out 8,642 words last week. I finished Chapter 8 and made a solid dent in Chapter 9a. Basically, I just tried to write at least a thousand words a day, which I accomplished almost every day. Yesterday, I only did 800, but I did 2000 on Sunday, plus the 800 was the ending scene for the chapter, so I deserve a little grace there. And it was a three-day weekend for my kids!

I am at the stage of the fanfic where most of the ambiguity is gone--I know what scenes are left and I just gotta write them. It doesn't matter if I want to or not, the fanfic isn't going to be done until I write them, so I just do it. I always worry that writing in this mindset is going to produce bad, unlovable writing--like, if I don't love writing this, how is anyone going to love reading it? Historically, though, that doesn't bear out--big chunks of Call Me Back and What We Do with Our Hearts were written in this exact fugue state, and I often end up loving them after the fact, and they still contain parts that are really funny or insightful or heartfelt or whatever. I literally do not know how this is possible, it just is. Also, like: there is going to be editing. It is truly astonishing how hard it is to slap anything at all down on a page and then how easy it is to shape it up into something good later on. It is a lot like throwing flat colors down on a piece of art and then adding a little texture and shading later.

The other thing I don't like about writing in this mode is that it makes me actually insane, which I don't like. I just roll word counts and percentages around in my head 24 hours a day and I'm not really able to relax and do things that are not grinding away at my writing. I can do it for short periods of time, but I think I have too much of this story left to tough it through, plus, like, what's the point? This is the thing I allegedly do for fun, and even though I really really really want to be finished, I feel like I should actually try to enjoy the process a little, at least.

So anyway! My first goal for this week is to be less insane about my fanfic. My second goal is to finish Chapter 9a (I think I have about 3-4k to go). My third goal is to edit Chapters 7 and 8 and send them to the beta.

After that, I'll just have 9b (of which I've already written about 4k) and the epilogue to do. After that, of course, there's still more editing, a beta pass for chapters 8->the end, and then I may try to read the whole thing through again from the beginning. So, 3 weeks, maybe, give or take a little?

In the interest of trying to have a little fun, I think I'm gonna try to post some previews for the next couple weeks? In the past, people have enjoyed previews. Today's is a little long, but it's the opening to the whole thing. It's below a cut for those who'd rather wait until the whole thing comes out.

“I don’t know if they’re trying to capitalize on Boy’s Day, or what,” Rukia said, idly inching her hand toward the plate of hot, steaming gyoza sitting on the countertop next to Renji’s stove, “but they’re having some sort of Seafood Festival out in East Sixth.”

A dish towel appeared out of nowhere, the tip whipping painfully against Rukia’s hand.

“Ow!” Rukia howled.

“They’re hot! It’ll hurt worse if you jam one of those in your mouth whole like I know you were gonna,” Renji replied, stuffing the dish towel back into his obi, and juggling the pan of gyoza he was currently frying. “What about a Seafood Festival? Why the Hell is the East Sixth having a Seafood Festival?”

“It’s being put on by the Train Museum, I hear,” Rukia continued grumpily, rubbing at her hand. “I guess they’re hauling a bunch of spring fish up from the Shiranui Sea at the other end of the line. It only takes a few hours to get out to Six. There’s probably carts making the run that we could take, but I would honestly just flash-step, at least on the way out. I want to eat my own body weight in katsuo. Possibly your body weight in katsuo.”

“Mmm,” Renji replied noncommittally, dumping the rest of his gyoza onto the plate and turning off the stovetop.

“I was thinking of asking Hisagi if he wanted us to take some pictures and do a little write-up for the Bulletin,” Rukia went on. “Get us a little walking-around money.” Not that Rukia lacked for pocket money, but it was a little more expensive than their usual weekend activities, and Renji got a little cagey when she tried to treat him to things.

“That’s a bad idea.”

“Why? We had fun the last time we played reporter!”

“Grab the bowl of sauce, would you?” Renji gestured with his chin as he picked up the plate of dumplings and the teapot to carry them to the table. “Don’t you remember when they built that damn train line? Took ‘em over over thirty years, and there were three to four articles every single Bulletin about the delays, the graft, the politics, the environmental impact, whatever. People got so mad about the idea of a train inside the Seireitei that it doesn’t even go anywhere useful. I didn’t even know they used it for anything aside from twee holidays for bored nobles.”

“I heard a story from my friend, Lady Akizuki, that the old head of the Seshimo clan actually lives on the train! He hasn’t set foot outside it in fifteen years!”

Renji cocked an eyebrow at her. He looked like he desperately wanted to hear about the Train Noble, but also did not want to be a guy who cared about Train Nobles. “Anyway, don’t mention the train to Hisagi unless you got six or seven hours to kill. Preferably when I’m not there.”

Rukia picked up the big, fragrant bowl of ginger dipping sauce with both hands. “It was just an idea. So what do you think? Do you want to go?”

“When is it again?” Renji asked, frowning.

“It’s running for all of May, but the weather has been so nice lately, I thought maybe we could go next weekend,” Rukia suggested. 

Renji was quiet for a moment, but Rukia figured that maybe he was just focused on serving her dumplings, which was, in her opinion, very important. 

“Ru,” he finally said slowly, as he poured her a cup of tea. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Is it that you want to go to the Seafood Festival with me?”

Renji took a big breath through his nose and let it out again. “If things work out, I’d love to go later in the month. Next weekend’s not gonna work, though.”

“Oh.” Rukia frowned. “That’s fine. That’s no big deal.” She looked down lovingly at her gyoza and then up at Renji hopefully. “Itadakimasu?” she asked hopefully.

Renji blinked. “Huh? Oh, yeah, please help yourself. That… that wasn’t the thing I had to say.”

“Well, spit it out, already,” Rukia groused, her mouth already crammed with gyoza. “Why are you being weird?”

Renji still hadn’t touched his own food. He had circled his right wrist with the thumb and middle finger of his left hand and was rotating it back and forth. He used to make that gesture a lot when he was young, and Rukia realized that she hadn’t seen him do it in years.

“I’m having some surgery,” Renji finally said. 

Rukia froze. After a long moment, she slowly finished chewing her dumpling and swallowed it. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’m getting my arm fixed.”

Rukia watched him rub his wrist for another few seconds. “Did it not heal correctly after the, um, accident?” “The accident” was when Byakuya had stabbed him through the forearm during a demonstration fight the week prior. Everyone was being very polite about it.

“Wellll…” Renji drew out. “I mean, no, that healed up fine. Very clean cut, Senbonzakura, as always. But, uh, while I was at the Fourth, the topic of my burnt-out kidou ducts came up. Captain Unohana thinks she can fix ‘em. And I’ve decided to, um, let her try.” “Oh,” said Rukia. Her chest was filling up with a lot of strange feelings. “Oh.”

[mysteriouslypalecollective]

I found a really old fanfiction I wrote about the dream SMP more specifically C!Tommy. And I wrote one chapter so here it is

===============================

Found family

This story starts off with a boy named Tommy. He is a blonde boy with curly hair and a white streak. His hair was long and put in two small spiky pigtails in the back. He wore a big comfy blue sewn sweater with a ruined red and white shirt peeking underneath it. He had long baggy tan pants. He had a devil tail peeking beneath his sweater. He had small red horns. His face was covered in scars and on his cheek was a smile.

“ELLLO?” He called out his tone was a bit weak and scared. The voice that answered was not recognized by the young boy. The voice shouted “hello” . It almost sounded like a young adult. The boy was startled and jumped. He then looked at the person "Who are you?” said the blonde boy.

“Hi, my name is Wren. What's your name.”

The person now known as Wren was a young adult presumably female but it was hard to tell they were reasonably tall they had a bandana over their hair and it looks like little goat horns poking out from underneath they had go to ears and hoofs which were nicely paired with a with cargo shorts and a cardigan a yellow cardigan with a black t-shirt underneath.

The blonde haired boy quickly tries to think of a fake name “My name is…Uhh…Umm. My name is…Uhh, Jack.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you Jack,” Wren said with a smile.

Tell me was cautious he has to be cautious he gone through so much already he couldn't risk it after dream killing him bringing him back to life having people portray him in going through wars and going through so much he couldn't risk meeting a stranger in them taking advantage of him he was just so tired and so sick of it and didn't know what to do. He missed his parents but his parents had been nothing but garbage to him ever since he was born. Philza had treated him well but those are now distant. Having to kill his own son was brutal and traumatic for the entire “family”. But now he couldn't go to phil, he couldn't go to anyone they were either dead or were betraying him or had replaced him entirely, he was just alone and he didn't know what to do and he didn't want to open up to a random stranger at least not immediately, he didn't know them yet.

“Are you planning to kill me?” the kid bulleted out

Wren immediately steps back very surprised by the sudden question

“Why on bloody Earth would I do that!” they responded in shock and also slight fear.

“My bad…I have just had some…not so great experiences with people and I am a bit…um…you know.” He shrugs and looks away. “I've been through shit.”

“Are you going to therapy like, at all?” Wren asked, quite worried about this kid's mental health and physical health at that matter.

Tommy nodded, explaining how he goes to Puffy's for therapy whenever she is free. But most of the time he bottles of his emotions and doesn't burden them on anyone else unless they pri.

“I'm glad you're going to therapy but please “Jack” don't bottle up your emotions. It's a stupid way of coping and it doesn't work. It just leads you to a bad mental state where you fall apart, not a fun time.”

Wren does this whole little speech on how bottling up your emotions is bad and you should talk to people you trust and she just they just kind of get into the zone on talking about this mental health issue and Tommy's just there watching it listening and realizing that this person is genuine and probably isn't a piece of shit.

Tommy sighs, takes deep breath in and decides to tell them about all of the not very fun things that he's done and he's had to go through and just tell someone because if someone's going to go throw this trouble until you why you shouldn't follow up your feelings you have to make them regret it by trauma dumping.

“Well…um…you see….”

The boy sighs and mumbles.

“I’m a child soldier.

“Oh honey, “Jack” I'm so sorry”

“No need to apologize…” He says quietly. “The worst has already happened to me…nothing worse can happen…”

“That’s what I tell myself at least…”

“It still means you went to shit that's not good like that's rough and really sorry you had to go through that and are still going through that” Wren looks over at the boy with empathy and compassion, desperately wanting him to have a good childhood and wanting to give him a good life.

He shrugs and smiles awkwardly.

“Well…it’s my life.” He mumbles and sighs.

“Not much I can do about it…I just…it is how it is I guess.”

“Can't you just leave?” Wren asks

He laughs and says. “Where am I going to go? I have no money, no education and no way out of where I am.” He chuckles and shrugs. “You think people would just let an orphan child soldier just get away that easily?”

“You could pick a direction and just keep going, find a nice spot where you have access to fresh water and Good soil and start making a home. I guess I don't know. You just shouldn't need to go through that shit, just leave that to the adults you shouldn't have had to go through that. You shouldn't be going through that when you're a kid it's not okay” Wren tries to convince him to just leave this behind and get a good life free of pain.

“So you want me to make a home alone in the woods? And what? Eat berries?” He laughs nervously and shakes his head. “First of all, I don’t have the survival skills to live off of what I can find around me and second of all, I am still wanted by the army. I was not supposed to get out and they are looking for me.”

Wren looked at the blonde haired boy with so much desperation and love and just wanting him to be okay Wren had barely known the kid and they'd already got an emotional attachment to him.

As Wren stared at Tommy, Tommy stared back. Tommy didn't take Wrens staring as a threatening thing more as a vague interest. Tommy was starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable with the staring thing, he felt like Wren was looking at him and trying to pick apart his trauma and how his brain worked. Almost like a science project that no one bothered to finish.

“Umm are you ok with hugs? It's fine if you're not. I don't want to set off a trigger or anything. I just thought that you might have wanted one.” Wren explained

The boy shrugs. He doesn’t mind not getting hugged.

“I appreciate it anyway…uh…can you promise me one thing?”

“Sure, what do you need me to promise?”

“Can you please not tell anyone where I am?” He is serious and seems to be begging.

“Of course, I'm not going to tell any of the information you tell me to a third party. I know I sound like a government official or something but like I swear I won't tell us all unless you want me to because I don't want to make your life worse.” Wren explained.

The boy smiles. “Thank you.”

Then he seems to be thinking of something.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure what is"jack”?”

“How old are you?” The way Tommy said it was very abrupt and to the point it was not jumping around the topic it was very direct and immediate in the way he said it it was slightly drawing to Wren but they did appreciate the forward nes.

“Oh, umm 20-21 ish. I kind of stopped keeping track a while ago." Wren says this with a smile and a shrug.

“Hmm…” The boy thinks.

Then he asks with a serious tone.

“Did you have a normal childhood?”

“Well damn straight to the important questions it is then my gosh. Not that I mind it just shocking how forward you are. But all in all yeah I would say I had a pretty good childhood compared to yours. Because what you went through is horrible and I'm really sorry.”

“Can you…can you explain what it was like?” He asks. “I don’t understand what a normal childhood is supposed to be like….” Tommy looks sheepishly to the ground trying not to make eye contact and more interested in my feet now because hooves.

“…I can't… I don't it's hard to describe what a good childhood is like it's complicated all childhoods are different and what you may see is good can also it's everything's a mix that and no matter if you have good or bad there will always be ups and downs of the best I guess the best way to have a good childhood is least what my childhood at least I had to parents loved me and it was nice then there was other things that can't control like non-family people and illnesses and there's always things that will make something shity and will endorse trauma or a bad memory at least there's never a perfect child there's better ones but yeah at least kind of want my childhood was like if that made any sense.”

As Wren says this they start to tear up a bit just thinking about all of the shit that the kid in front of me had to go through for his childhood damn he's still in his childhood the things he's going through just broke wren's heart.

The blonde haired boy just nods kind of taking in what Wrens saying and also kind of not his family is chaotic and messy and not necessarily blood and it's just hard to relate for him so he's just kind of sitting there for it standing there trying to take in what he can and understanding what they're saying. He thinks back to Phil and what it was like when they were all together with Wilbur, Phil and techno. It was nice and his eyes but nice it was comfortable not necessarily perfect but comfortable he missed those days he missed when everything was comfortable not necessarily perfect but he didn't always fear for his safety and scared as he could shot in the heart with an arrow or blown up or beaten to death again. he missed those days. Then he thought about mothers. He had never known a mother, at least not a mother who cared about him enough or one that stuck around long enough.

He sighs and smiles and says.

“thank you for the insights….. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure!”

He seems a bit nervous and whispers.

“What’s…um…a normal relationship between a mom and a child is supposed to be like…?”

It's it's kind of like you look up to them and they look up to you and it's kind of this weird sense of loving both ways of and you can get upset at them but they stop and talk you through what's happening and you have each other I am sorry about the bad explanations”

Wren starts to tear up a bit again.

The boy seems a little shocked by their answer and stares down at the ground.

“I never…I never had that. My parents were…not the best to say the least. I probably should be more specific I do mean my birth parents not my family”

The boy sighs and asks. “Do you think my parents loved me…”

Wren was cut off guard by the sudden question. they were more trying to process the thing that they said before about not having great birth parents but then this kid hit them with that bombshell! When the two were shocked to speak for a second just trying to compute all of the information that they had just been given.

“I-i don't know your parents so I can't make a good judgment on their character. all I can say is did you feel loved?”

Tommy shakes his head looking at the ground.

“From the little bit I know about your birth parents I don't think they may have loved you but it didn't show through and so and if you're not in touch anyway you should give them any time of day it's your childhood was shity and I'm sorry that you had to go through tons of trauma and are still going through more things. I'm so sorry because it's shity and you don't deserve that.”

The boy looks down and mumbles.

“Thanks…”

“Do you want a hug?” Wren offered

The boy pauses and then looks up at you.

“Yes…please…if that’s okay.”

Wren open star arms in an embrace with a warm smile on their face.

The boy walks into the hug.

He was shaking a little bit.

“Thank you…”

“You're welcome kid.”

He starts to sob a bit.

“I…I thank you…this is…really comforting…”

“You can stand my arms as long as you need. Can I ask you a question?”

Tommy teary eyed Wren's shoulder muttering something along the lines of “yes” through his tears.

“Is Jack your real name? Or is that just the name that you picked so you wouldn't have to tell me your real one?”

The boy goes silent. After two quiet seconds he says.

“No…Jack is not my real name….”

“Can I know your real name or is that too much?” Wren asked.

The boy looks at them with a bit of fear before quickly shaking his head “No…I…I can’t tell you.”

Wren sighs and then and then says “that's okay I'm here for you.”

His shaking slows and he mumbles.

“Can we not talk about my past anymore?”

Wren just nods not wanting to pry into the child's trauma.

The boy sighs and says.

“Thank you…uh…and thank you for letting me hug you…you are very comforting.”

Wren starts to sway while holding on to him trying to lull him into sleep.

The boy closes his eyes.

In a soft voice he mumbles.

“I like this, I've never had this before not for my parents or anyone really”

Wren just continued to sway, basically rocking him into sleep like a baby. thinking over things whether to say stuff or not eventually they decided to ask something.

“Hey kid, do you want a new parent?”

______________________________________________________________________

Tommy stops. There was a long break after that

[reneesbooks]

sunday scene

uh. i've been feeling a little insane about birdie lately. so have this scene from the ending of witch of the west.

Emilia sets a cup of tea down at Birdie’s elbow, next to the one that must have gone cold now, if Emilia is back already.

“You need to take a break.” Emilia’s gentle words are laced with worry; the faint bitter aroma of the tea suggests it’s laced with dreamroot. “You’ll only drain yourself at this point.”

Birdie’s vision swims with runes. “Maybe that’s what I want.”

“Birdie.”

She closes her eyes, flinching as the bloodstain on the kitchen floor crowds her mind’s eye instead. Fabin’s snarling words. His bloody hands.

“Birdie.”

Her breathing is too fast, hyperventilation crawling into her lungs. Runes are still swimming through her head, her overworked brain finally translating the passage she’s been staring at since Emilia brought the first cup of tea.

A sacrifice of the killer, to restore the life that was taken by the one that took it.

She opens her eyes and slams them shut again. Blood is dripping from her fingers, running in rivulets down her wrists. Her hands soaked in phantom gore. The moons have the sickest sense of humor.

“Fuck you,” she whispers through gritted teeth.

Emilia sets her hand on Birdie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.”

Birdie slams the book shut and grabs the dreamroot-laced tea, throwing it back like shots with Jack. “I’ll take a break if it gets you off my ass,” she says, just to be biting, but it only comes out cracked and tired.

“You sound like Fabin,” Emilia says, sadly.

Birdie stumbles to her bed, collapses on the pillows. “Fuck him too.”

When she opens her eyes again, there is moonlight shading the floor silver-purple. Her body is weightless as she lifts to her feet and drifts forward to the window. She feels power shiver to life under her skin as the light washes over her.

The spellbook is open again, to the page with the answer. The secret to making the spell work.

“Fuck you,” Birdie growls again, teeth bared in a snarl. She picks up the book and hurls it as hard as she can through the window. Glass shatters, falling to the street below. Her soundproofing spell snaps with the breaking glass; Jack and Arthur will probably find the book in a minute.

She doesn’t care. She clutches her hair and pulls as hard as she can, screaming until some of the weight on her chest lifts. She whips around and flings a bolt of magic at her bed. The wood splinters and shatters, her shredded sheets fluttering to the floor. She can feel tears on her cheeks as her desk implodes, jagged pieces collapsing into a pile of books and spilled ink. Either Jack or Arthur is pounding on the door, the rhythm pounding in time with her heart as she crumples to the floor.

Moonlight is cool on her face. She can hear Arthur picking the locks. Silver light flickers off her skin, the magic still responding so easily to her call. As it always does, at is always has—except for him.

“Fuck!” she screams at the floor, her fingers clutched around her hair again. The boys are still at the door, Jack slamming his fist against it and shouting her name while Arthur struggles with her enchanted locks. It’s all a cruel fucking joke, the people she was meant find. All of it decided for her, prophesied when she was just a child with no real power despite all the magic in her blood. Her prophecy dragging her along, even now as she kicks and screams and wishes it was different.

She raises her eyes to the window. The dark sky beyond, the moons staring in at her.

“Please,” she whispers.

the raedoran cycle taglist (ask to be added <3): @k--havok @theharpywrites

[pakeithpsy]

Creativity: A Life Wasted

I think I know what my problem is now.

I don't actually enjoy art, or writing, or animating, or designing games, or ANY of the creative process.

What I ACTUALLY enjoy is just having ideas and then hyperfixating on them for ages, fantasizing about how cool they would be until I inevitably get bored with them.

I like coming up with new ideas and ruminating on their possibilities more than I do actually acting upon them because I'm a pathetic failure of an adult who was never once challenged or defied by his peers and now I'm completely unprepared to actually do the work because it no longer makes me happy.

I'm just a complete fucking joke. I don't deserve to call myself a creative. I'm no better than all those AI douchebags who want all the glory of being an artist with none of the effort, and even they have more fucking drive than I do. Goddamn Christian Weston Chandler has more balls than I do - at least they actually fucking MADE something.

In 2017 I applied to online art college, having spent my entire life drawing the wrong way. It was the wake up call I needed, because it made me realize I'm not an artist, I never have been, and I never will be and that I was completely unfit to live in the adult world. If I ever wanted to pass, I would need to completely unlearn everything I knew about art. Nobody ever taught or explained any of the elements of art or figure drawing to me - all my art teachers when I was in school never once explained any of this. I had spent my entire life drawing the wrong way and had it committed to muscle memory. All of this new information and the speed at which it was being fed to me was confusing, scary, overwhelming. Everything they said I had to do sounded extremely hard, tedious, exhausting, and just beyond any of my capabilities.

I ended up falling behind because the material was just so difficult and moving too fast I gave up on even trying because it just didn't seem possible or worth my time. I felt like I couldn't do it. I KNEW I couldn't do it. I had spent my whole life thinking I had a calling for art when in reality my peers were just coddling me to spare my feelings, never once asking me if I had a plan or helping me find the resources I needed or even just giving me the tiniest ounce of criticism that my dream was unrealistic. Everyone told me I'd grow up to be an artist or a writer or animator and I just believed them like a fucking idiot.

I nearly killed myself because I felt like such a burden on my family, wasting all their money on trying to help my incompetent ass when I was too far gone. I was holding them back from enjoying and enriching their own lives because all that time was wasted on trying to get me to make something of myself. All my life I had been a constant disappointment to them and to myself. I thought I was nothing but a bane on their existence - all their dreams, all their aspirations, their own chance at happiness, all gone because they had to give it up to take care of me, and I repaid them by being a lazy piece of shit who refused to change or grow up. I genuinely thought their lives would be better if I had never been born and they'd be happy to see me dead, no longer bound by the chains of my arrested development and constant failure. I was doing nothing but holding them back. "If I were dead, then Mom could find a job instead of having to stay home all day taking care of her incompetent adult son," I thought to myself. "Then my brother won't have to wait on me or put up with my crap, everyone will be able to afford nicer things now that they're not throwing all their money away on classes that I refuse to get anything out of."

Now I wish I had gone through with it, that way all the people whose time I've wasted would get those precious hours of their life back, and so I wouldn't have had to watch as the creative industry, the place I thought I belonged, get gutted and mutilated and stomped into nothing by corporate greed, leaving me no option but to go indie, an impossible task for trash like me. I have no following, no connections, crippling fear of socialization and failure, no money to hire help, no experience in running a production, no TALENT for any of this. No matter how much I try I simply cannot learn because I can't handle even the tiniest setback or hurdle. What a complete joke. What was I even thinking? The only way to get what I want is to change who I am, something I've been trying to do for years but every time I try I keep spiraling back and ending up back at square one.

A while back I took an animation class specifically for people with autism. I was far and away the best artist there (for what little that means). Everyone else's skill was on par with a third grader who just started using MS Paint. But did they care? NO! They were just happy to be there at all. They LOVED drawing, they were EXCITED to start using Animate and they dived right in. Meanwhile I was busy bawling my eyes out because I couldn't even draw a still image of someone throwing a simple punch. I couldn't do anything more complex than a simple bouncing ball because the thought of drawing anything more complicated overwhelmed me with fear. So even compared to other disabled people I'm a complete and utter embarrassment. Hell, just this week at another class I was frustrated because I couldn't even draw a fucking APPLE correctly, aka Basic Drawing 101. What was I thinking, trying to convince myself I belong here?

I haven't talked about it in a while, but I have a whole adult cartoon concept I've been working on since at least 2013, for the past decade of my life it's been my main goal to see it finished. I have a whole series bible, several episode outlines, a script for a full 30-minute episode, and a whole storyboard for a short pilot of sorts that I even got my friends to record voices for. I was hoping to pitch it to Adult Swim or another network and then work my way up from there. But I wasted so much time fantasizing about what it could lead to that I never stopped to think about what would happen if something changed. I didn't know TV and streaming would become so utterly fucked that pitching to them would become a losing game, especially for a lowly nobody like me who can't even crack a thousand views on YouTube anymore unless it's a vocoded Family Guy clip. And as for going indie, what's the point in that? It's an adult comedy conceived in 2013 with all the humor that would entail, and the minute people figure out the punchline of the short they're going to immediately decide that they hate it, it has no potential, and I'm a lazy hack without ever seeing everything else I have to show for it. I feel like the only way anybody would even give it a smidgen of a chance is if I were to spoil everything that happens later (i.e. the parts that aren't meant to be funny), but I don't want to have to ruin the surprise just to get people to care one iota about it. I want people to support it and care about these characters because they genuinely like what I've made and want to see more of their antics and stories, not because they check all the boxes in their list of requirements for what a "real" cartoon should be. Any passion I once had for the idea is gone because of factors out of my control, and what little passion I do still have is merely out of spite for shows that are pretentious and up their own ass with drama and lore and the mere thought of giving the middle finger to the mindset that animation only matters if it's angsty and unfun, not because I still believe in this world and its characters.

"WELL JUST MOVE ON TO A NEW PROJECT DIPSHIT." Okay. Fine. I have. I've got TONS of ideas for other things I'd like to make. But why should I when I have no faith in myself that I can even do it? Why put in the effort when my passion for art is dead in the water? Nothing I can do right now will get me any closer to fulfilling my dreams. I can't afford to hire a crew, I wouldn't know the first thing about directing, nobody's going to give me the money because nothing I can make with my current skillset would ever grab anyone's attention, let alone make them think it's worthy of financial support, and every attempt I've made at trying to improve myself so that I can make something more impressive always comes up stillborn because of my crippling anxiety and a lifetime of terrible habits.

Chris Wade, Pan-tastique, and Tracy Butler were all right about me, I just want success laid out in front of me without having to do any of the work and I'm an insult to creatives everywhere. A stupid, selfish square trying to shove himself into a round hole. A manchild who would rather fantasize about fame and admiration than spend a single fucking minute actually trying to fix himself because he knows he doesn't have what it takes. The literal definition of an AI chud who thinks all that matters is the idea and doesn't want to put in a single bit of effort, yet I continue to insist I'm better than them instead of just throwing in the towel already.

I'm sorry I ever wasted anybody's time trying to act like one of you. I'm not one of you. I never was. I'm just a mewling little wannabe who needs to go back to the mental hospital before he hurts himself or someone else, shielded from our deteriorating, rotted society where only scum succeed and good people suffer and basic survival becomes more and more unaffordable due to the ruling class never being happy with the billions of dollars they already have.

I just wish someone had the courage to tell me no as a kid. To discourage me, to shoot down my dreams, to tear my awful art and shitty stories to shreds figuratively and literally. Maybe then I could've saved myself before I crashed and burned with nothing else to fall back on. Maybe then I could've found a new passion, something that actually matters to me, something I can actually do and enjoy doing. Maybe then I'd be happy. I'd be someone surrounded with pride and accomplishment and a sense of meaning instead of a bunch of useless middle school-tier doodles and sculptures that I fantasize about destroying because I can't stand the sight of them and all the failure they represent. Someone who was proud of who he is and what he's done. Someone who could've found new idols to collaborate with instead of being constantly disappointed by a bunch of backstabbing Hollywood scumbags. Someone who didn't feel like a constant failure and can't even speak up to his own family or therapist because he's too fucking embarrassed by the idea of asking for help out of fear of judgment and everyone seeing how pathetic and vulnerable he is and would rather run to the arms of strangers who don't know or care about him since it feels less personal.

But no. It wasn't to be. Instead I'm a miserable loser who ruined his own life and will never make anything of himself unless he gets a complete personality transplant and should've just kicked the bucket 6 years ago when he had the chance.

[yourmidnightlover]

never go back

Summary: spencer notices how your boyfriend takes advantage of you and finally does something about it.

TW: titty sucking, oral (female receiving), cheating, dom!spencer, scratching, slapping (only one), cursing, choking, spencer dirty talk lol, penetrative sex, creampie. *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 3,724

A/N - i'm using noah as the 'other man' schtick in probably all of my future one shots bc i can't find it within myself to create a new character each and every time. so your douche of a bf will always be noah miller. if you ever get a nice bf i'll be sure to change his name but for now this is what we're working with. got it? got it.

masterlist

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

there are many things that people should go back to. schooling, maybe an old job, an old vacation spot.

your boyfriend was not one of those things.

mostly because your boyfriend sucked.

it was now a fact that spencer reid himself had come to believe quite a while ago and now, well now he had reason.

he had always felt as though you were too good for noah, similar for practically anyone in existence (himself included). he was always a complete ass to you no matter the circumstance.

there was one time the entire team had been back really late from a case that took a toll on all of you. it was emotionally and physically draining. the flight back had been delayed because of weather issues in the state you had been in, meaning you couldn't leave until days after it was solved.

any time you had gone to answer the phone, spencer would be able to see your stance and body language through the glass window. you had been apologizing for something you couldn't even control. you would narrow your brows the way you only did when you were being yelled at. you bit your lip the way you did when you were being made to feel guilty.

he was guilt tripping you for something you couldn't even control.

when you had gotten back it wasn't any better. noah had been giving you the cold shoulder. he was defensive when you asked what was wrong.

and that was only 3 weeks into the relationship.

after being together for 2 months, you had gotten flowers delivered on your desk. you assumed they were from your boyfriend, reasonably so, and went to go thank him. spencer saw the shock in your eyes when you saw your boyfriend huddled in the corner with some new intern. spencer saw the look in your eye change from sadness to anger in the blink of his own.

you took a deep breath, and walked away from the situation, completely missing the way he tucked the intern's hair behind her ear as he leaned in to whisper something to make her giggle. when you got back to your desk you threw the flowers in the garbage can, not even bothering to read the note.

it was pretty indirect, but looking into it he realized it was an issue that should've been addressed. every time the team would go out together, everyone was clearly invited. you would always decline because 'noah wanted to take me out tonight' or 'noah said he needs me, so i'll have to rain check'.

it wasn't because you were a bad person, the opposite actually. it was because noah was taking advantage of your kindness.

because any time you needed him, 'noah's out with the boys' or 'noah had to work late' or, here's a kicker, 'noah had a hard time at work'. as if you don't have a hard time looking at dead bodies while he just has to write up reports.

even when you got injured during a case, shot in the shoulder, noah seemed as though he couldn't have cared less. he wouldn't even go to your apartment to visit you while you were in recovery because 'noah didn't have time to visit'.

spencer could even recall when you went out with the girls one night, spencer being the designated driver, that you had told them how 'noah didn't want you to dress too provocatively so you had to wear something more modest'.

now, spencer doesn't care all to much about what you wear because, frankly, it's none of his business. but now that he heard how noah cared oh-so-much, he decided to wrack his brain for the 'provocative' outfits you've worn. there was not a single one that anyone should make a comment about. you looked stunning no matter what you wore, so you'd grab any man's attention no matter the clothing on your body.

but spencer? he made sure to never be that much of an asshole to you. he made sure to make up for him being an asshole.

he would grab you some morning coffee like you always had before you had a boyfriend. he would make sure to tell you that you looked lovely when you were able to go out with the team. he would visit you when you injured yourself and were lonely, he even stayed back for a few days with you to help you get through it.

hell, he was the one to get you the flowers. you had been having a rough week and spencer thought it might cheer you up. he had gifted you a bouquet of 12, blue chiffon flowers because those were your favorite.

but this was his breaking point. you had come to his apartment, once again in the middle of the night, talking about noah fucking miller cheating on you.

he had done it once before when he was 'out with the boys' you decided to stop by when he said he'd be back, wanting to just be the amazing girlfriend that you are. so when you walk in and hear your boyfriend moaning along with another woman that isn't you, you immediately run back out. you run back out and drive all the way to spencer's.  

and here you are again. spencer wasn't mad at you, it was noah he was mad at. he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

spencer had always liked you, no, he's always loved you. everything about you. how could he not? you're perfect.

but loving you how he does and seeing you being used as a toy to fuck for a certain noah miller not only made his heart ache but also made his blood boil.

spencer wasn't an idiot. he had heard the way the old morgan had referred to women. the thing is, noah is way more of a fuckboy than the old morgan ever was. and that scared spencer to pieces. he knew that you would only be missing out on team outings just to get fucked by a douchebag. he knew that the only reason said douchebag wouldn't visit you was because you couldn't fuck. he knew that the reason said douchebag was cornering that intern was to fuck her, too.

so when you arrived at spencer's place, this time you weren't crying. you were furious. you were angry and upset, as was spencer.

"he did it again, spence," you breathed out as you paced across his living room floor. "i was supposed to meet him in a few hours but i was going to surprise him and i caught him with another tramp! i didn't even confront him. i just- i just left!"

"cheated? noah?" he asked as if he didn't believe it at first, not wanting to seem like as much of a dick as noah.

"yes! cheated. god! i am so ANGRY!" you ran your hand through your hair, a grunt leaving your mouth. "and... and frustrated! and... UGH!" you sighed aggressively.

"and what?" spencer asked as he stood up, slowly making his way to you. "what else?" he said, his hand now brushing that stubborn strand of hair behind your ear.

"i-i'm..." you trailed off, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit how much you loved spencer. but you thought he'd never love you like that. not since you helped him through jj getting married. he really thought she was it for him, at least that's what you'd come to think he believed. over the years you had grown so much closer and grown such an attraction for each other that the other person knew about. it was ironic, truly.

"say it, y/n," spencer leaned over you, his lips ghosting over yours. "i need to hear you say it."

"god, just kiss me," you said, your hands flying to the back of his hair to push his mouth to yours.

there was no hesitation from spencer to give you everything he had. his hand on the side of your face remained there as his other hand drifted to your waist to pull you closer to his body. your tongues met fervently with covetous, passion, and longing yet with just gentle firmness that felt protecting and as if it was how everything was supposed to be.

"please, spencer," you quietly whispered once you unlatched from one another.

"please what, princess," he asked, his hand running through your hair.

"i just... i need you," she pleaded with him, her hands still tugging gently on his hair. "please," you put your foreheads together, breathing in each others air as you silently begged him to help you in any way that he could.

"i'd do anything for you," he whispered so delicately as if the entire team were standing right beside you. "you know i'd do anything for you."

"then do something," you demanded.

spencer took action by kissing you just as intensely as before, this time his hands went to your ass. he grabbed your thighs to signal for you to jump, once you did you wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you into his bedroom. he set you down just in front of the bed before you began to undo his shirt, him returning the favor by undoing yours.

"god, i've wanted you for so long," he growled, nipping gently at your earlobe as he laid you back on the bed. "lift your hips," he ordered, you obeyed his every command. you always would. "good girl," he praised as he ran his hands down your now bare waist.

"please," you begged, your hips bucking up to get any source of friction. "spencer..." you trailed off.

"i know, princess. i know," he said before climbing on top of you, connecting your lips with his once again, this time much more eager than before if that were possible.

as you arched your back, he took the opportunity to unclasp the hook on your bra. you shrugged it off your shoulders to allow him to throw the bra somewhere else in his room. he finally took a breath, removing his lips from yours to admire the view in front of him.

"god, you're so beautiful," he growled before placing gentle but eager kisses along the tops of your breasts, massaging the one his mouth wasn't on.

he pressed his knee between your legs, allowing you to buck your hips up to get that release you wanted so bad. you whined as he took your nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking past it rapidly as he occasionally nibbled on it gently.

"spen-spencer," you ran your hands through his hair, tugging gently on the roots.

"mmm," he sat his head up, trailed kisses up your throat. "god, i love you so much."

"i-i love you," you moaned, pulling his head up to connect your lips together. "i love you so so much."

"i'm so glad to hear that," he huffed a sigh of relief. "because otherwise it'd be awkward when i did this," he began trailing kisses down your body, leading down towards your center. "i'll show you what it's like to be with a man that actually loves and respects you, yea? show you what it feels like to actually be pleased by a man? what it's like to be with a real man?" he teased.

his fingers trailed around your entrance, gathering your arousal that'd been building for what felt like ages. he pressed gentle kisses around your pussy before finally connecting his lips with your clit, a low groan emitting from your body because of the contact.

"yes, please," you shot your head back, relishing in the feeling of the direct skin contact.

"hey," spencer slapped your thigh, your head shot back up to see him between your legs, a truly beautiful sight that you'd never get tired of. "eyes on me," he demanded before going back down on you, not breaking eye contact as he brought out sounds from you that you weren't even sure you could make. "talk to me, princess. let me know how it feels."

"fe-feels so good," you sighed, taking your breasts in your hands and massaging them. "i-i can-can't even think," you stuttered out, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.

you had felt so good as he sucked on your clit, succeeding in bringing you closer to the edge than noah ever has, but when he inserted two fingers into your entrance...

"oh my fuck!" your hands shot down to grab onto his locks, pushing him further into your body, a low groan leaving him.

his fingers didn't stop their work. he curled them at just the right spot, sending you flying over the edge. spencer used his free hand to grab onto your thigh to keep them from closing in completely on his head, still working you through your high. he placed a kiss on your clit once more before he brought his head up to you, connecting your lips passionately.

"could noah ever make you come like that? huh? could he make you feel so good you could barely even think?" he grabbed your chin in his hands, holding it in place to look at him as you shook your head the best you could. "no?"

"mm-mm," you tried to shake your head 'no' once more.

"did you think of him while i was going down on you? were you thinking about how he fucked that little tramp?" he asked harshly, you shook your head 'no' again. "oh, what were you thinking, princess?" he finally released your face so you could speak.

"ab-about how well you know my body. about how, how good you looked between my legs. about how much i love you," you replied quickly, knowing exactly what to say.

"right answer," he connected your lips once more. "what do you want, love?" he asked, peppering soft kisses along your jaw where his hands once held your throat firmly.

"you. i-i want you in-inside me," you swallowed, your hand finding his and pulling it up to your lips to press a kiss to it, then another, then another, then another. "please, doctor?" you used your best puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist.

"god, call me that again," he rasped lowly.

"what... doctor?" you took his hand and started sucking on his fingers, letting them slip in and out slowly and then moving onto the next.

"fuck, yes," he growled as he pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up at your center. "are you sure, princess?" he traced your jaw with the fingers you were previously sucking on.

"yes, sir," you nodded. "i'm sure."

you felt him slowly push inside of you slowly to allow you to adjust to his size. you had your suspicions of how big he was, but feeling him inside of you made it all much more real.

"fuck, you're so tight," he moaned into your ear quietly as he slowly pulled back out, going in just as slow.

"sp-spence-"

"wrong," he slapped your face gently, a whimper leaving your lips before he grasped your face to make you look him in the eyes.

"doc-doctor," you corrected yourself.

"good girl," he said, feeling your pussy clench from the praise. "oh you like that?" he felt it again. "maybe you just like hearing me talk, yea?" his pace began picking up slowly. "you like hearing how this pussy makes me feel? how tight... and warm... and wet it is?"

"u--uh huh," you nodded your head the best you could as he began thrusting much more rapid, hitting that special spot inside of you with each movement.

"it seems like you haven't felt this good in a long time huh? haven't had your pussy pounded like this in a while?" he asked as he was catching his breath.

"ne-never, doctor," you confirmed, hands reaching around his back and dragging your nails down, surely leaving scratch marks all down them.

"fuck," he growled. "noah never made you feel this good princess? never made you forget how to speak in sentences? never knew how to get you going like this?"

"n-no, no! never! god, never!" you cried as you pulled his body even closer to you. "i-i'm close, please!"

"you wanna come all over my dick, yea? you want to show me how much your pussy loves it when a real man fucks it?"

that was it to let that spring burst inside of you, parts flying everywhere. you cried his name as he worked you through your orgasm, holding onto his shoulders and hair to keep you grounded.

"cum inside me, please," you begged. "fi-fill me up."

"fuck, whatever you want, princess," he kept pounding into you at a rapid pace. "god, i'm gonna come inside you, and send you back to that scumbag of a boyfriend so he can see that you're mine now. so he can see what happens when his girlfriend is mistreated and fucked by someone who knows what they're doing, yea?"

"yea, yea!" you whined, nails digging back into his skin as he released his load into you, thrusting it gently back inside after.

"god, i love you so much," he moaned into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek by your ear.

"i love you," you replied, stroking his hair to help him come down, him still inside of you. he began thrusting inside of you once again.

"don't want any of it to spill out before you get to him," he felt you clench around him one more time. "you're very responsive, princess. i like that about you."

"it-it's just you, spence. it's always been you," you pulled him in for another kiss.

this one was full of passion but not the kind of eagerness. it was full of desire and longing, pent up emotions flowing out into one another fluidly.

"now let me go see my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend," you huffed as he pulled out of you, wincing from the overstimulation. "i'll see you later?"

"i'll see you later," he pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you gather your clothes.

driving back to his apartment, you felt rather giddy with yourself. should you have felt bad? absolutely not. he's a manipulative asshole who's used you for sex on numerous occasions, so he deserved the bittersweet irony of what was coming to him.

*get it, coming to him? lol i'm sorry i had to :)*

you knocked on the door softly, greeted by a rather chipper noah who grabbed your face as soon as he saw you, connecting your lips. his kiss was nothing like spencer's. his lips weren't as soft and tentative. they weren't plump and round, they were harsh and rough and unpleasant.

he quickly led you to the bedroom, not to your surprise. he sat down on the bed, you straddled his hips, acting as if it were spencer instead - which was pretty hard to do after knowing what he was like in the sack.

you felt his boner through his pants quickly after you got on top of him. then when he flipped you over and pulled your pants and underwear down, he was met with a surprise.

"someone's excited to see me," he chuckled before licking a thick stripe from your slit to clit, very aggressive to where it almost hurt to have the pressure. "god you taste so good, doll."

he continued at this for a while, inserting his tongue to your hole very once in a while and licking up yours and spencer's arousal with it. you faked your moans and whimpers as his ministrations became more eager, not really getting you anywhere.

after he was finished with your turn - no, he didn't even make you cum - he laid back on the bed as if he were waiting for you to get on top of him again.

"actually," you stood up from the bed, pulling up your clothes with you. "i'm done with this. we're over."

you watched his face as he took in the information just released to him. it changed from surprised and shocked, to confused, to disgusted, to angry and frustrated.

"what the fuck?" he sat up from the bed, a disgruntled look on his face. "you wait until after you cum to tell me this?" he walked over to you, arms flailing in the air.

"yea. i did. and by the way, i didn't cum," you informed him. "that's something you've never really been good at making me do. although i'm not sure how you've been able to convince me to do anything with the way you treat me."

"what do you mean? i'm a good gu-"

"shut up for one second, please," you rolled your eyes, running your hand through your hair. "i know you've cheated on me numerable times. i stayed because i thought that maybe there was a reason, but i've come to realize that i was just... settling with you," you shrugged.

"you've treated me like crap since this 'relationship' started and i'm tired of it. i know someone who not only treats me with respect and kindness, but can also actually make me cum. shocker," you chuckled.

"who is this asshole? what the hell-"

"i wasn't finished, sweetie," you spat out viciously. "he's not an asshole. you're the asshole. you're the one that's getting dumped. so this is goodbye," you turned around to walk out of his room before leaving him with one more thought. "how did his cum taste with mine?" you tilted your head innocently, smiling at his shocked face as he realized what you meant before walking out.

and you were never more glad that you didn't have to go back to him anymore.

taglist:

@muffin-cup​ @greenprisca​ @averyhotchner​ 

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Objections: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: you go to a wedding as the maid of honor for your best friend, so you have to keep things proper. But there's always room to have a little fun, right? (a piece for the Gangland Collab hosted by @semisgroupie)

wc: 2.5k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

Flustered.

That's one way to describe how you're feeling while everyone is running around and making demands. You're barely dressed when the bride - and your best friend - comes into your shared hotel room with a red face.

"Y/n, my shoes won't buckle!"

You stoop to help Mizuki silently, hoping she would calm down after your assistance. But then she begins to complain bout how awful the wedding rehearsal had gone the night before, where only two out of the four groomsmen had shown up. The best man had even sat the rehearsal dinner out, claiming to have a wicked hangover—a likely story.

"There," you state, standing up and pulling your blush-colored dress straps over your shoulders.

"Thanks, y/n. Don't know what I'd do without you."

And you carry Mizuki's flowers as she rushes across the courtyard to the church, her hands full of tulle skirt. And you adjust her veil when it slips off her hair a little. All the things her mother would have been there to do, you're there for instead. Because that's just who you are.

The groom and the groomsmen have already descended the aisle, and you hand Mizuki her flowers as her father approaches her in the church's lobby. His tattoos are covered by the long-sleeved suit and buttoned-up shirt, but you know Mr. Magahara would show his tattoos if he could.

"You're the best maid of honor," he mentions, and you smile, giving him a wink.

"Wouldn't give this up for the world."

As you walk down the aisle alone, you smile at all of the family members present on Mizuki's side, knowing each and every one of them by name and function. You take your place across from the groomsmen standing behind the groom and eye the best man - a tall, black-haired fellow - with curiosity. His black eyes flick to you for a moment, linger on your appearance in the blush silk, and then turn away just as quickly as if you no longer existed. But Mizuki is coming down the aisle, and you turn toward her, placing your best "I Want to Be Here" smile on your face.

The wedding vows and ceremony passes in a blur, and before you know it - she and her white-haired groom are wedded. As they leave, you walk back up the aisle beside the best man, secretly wondering why he couldn't just suck it up the night before, but you keep your thoughts to yourself as you wait for the golf carts purchased to take you all to the reception.

"Y/n, you and Geto will get in the next one," Mizuki claims and zips off, facing the crowd while her dress flies around her and Gojo. You turn to the man as he sits in the driver's seat of the white golf cart, and he pats the seat next to him. His cuffs roll up just a bit to reveal a red and black tattoo outline when he does so. You look back up at his face, and Geto raises a brow - noticing you noticing his tattoo.

"I don't bite..." he offers, shrugging. Other people are going past you and the stationary cart as you assess the Yakuza member, but after what feels like forever, you decide to get into the cart, and he starts it up before taking off at a crawl. "Often." Before you can respond, he floors the pedal down on the golf cart, and you scream, holding onto the side rails for dear life.

It would be just your luck. You're stuck in a golf cart with a bona fide crazy man who is in the Yakuza.

When he finally pulls up a the barn, you step off the cart, dizzy, but you feel no more inclined to throw up than you did before. However, Geto gets out of the vehicle and loops your arm through his, guiding you towards the repurposed barn like a gentleman.

"Wasn't so bad, was it? Maybe four-and-a-half stars out of five?"

"Out of ten," you mutter, earning you a hearty laugh.

_____________________________________________________________

You're six toasts in and a little unsteady on your feet when Geto turns to you, watching you eat the cupcake offered to you moments before. He places his hand on his chin, examining you in the dim lighting of the venue like he did at the church.

"What?" you wonder, mouth full of icing and cake.

"Just watching you eat that cupcake. Maybe I should've gotten one, yeah?"

"Yeah," you muse, sucking some icing off of your index finger. "They're fucking amazing."

"I bet..." You think you hear him groan in his throat, but you can't be sure, so your attention goes back to the people on the dance floor, and you thumb over to the crowd.

"You don't like dancing?"

"Eh," Geto shrugs, watching the groom sway to the slow song with his bride. "No one's ever asked me to dance with them before." You stand from your chair and offer Geto your hand, praying he wouldn't embarrass you by not taking it.

"Well, Mr. Geto, may I have this dance?"

The man looks at your hand, then back up at your face, as if you were joking. But you continue to stand there, palm up, until he finally takes it, leading you to the dance floor. He pulls you into a traditional slow dance hold - one hand against your waist, the other holding your hand out - and you look up at him, laughing.

"You can dance!"

"Never said I couldn't," he chuckles, smiling down at you. "Just said I hadn't." After a few moments of this, the song changes to something fast and exciting - definitely a song that makes you want to shake your ass a little. At first, the mafia member is caught off-guard by the song, but he dances along with you, mouthing the words to the song.

"You acted like you've never been to a party before," you mention, and he shakes his head, his banging flopping back and forth.

"Always rolled up in the back and watched the festivities."

Your entire perception begins to shift, and for some reason, your cheeks heat up under his gaze. It's the alcohol, you consider. It has to be.

But as you move closer to him and Geto takes your hips in his hands, you know you won't be able to escape this evening unscathed. The DJ changes the song to a sultry and seductive song, and you follow the beat, rolling your body under the firm grip of the hands on your body. Your fingers creep up Geto's suit and rest on his chest, eyes following and resting on his face. He leans down and exhales in your ear, and you tilt your head back, hair tickling the back of your neck.

"Fuck..." he breathes, and you stifle a moan when his hands creep up to the top of the back of your dress. "Y/n, I don't know if I can keep dancing with you like this... Makes me think about--"

"Don't," you whisper, feeling the need grow in your stomach. "Don't say it. We just met, and I can't... I shouldn't..."

"I'm renting a hotel room tonight and heading back into town in the morning," he adds, ignoring your plea. "Maybe we could..." Geto leaves the ending open, and you close your eyes, hissing as he grips your ass.

"You're making a scene."

The sound of Mizuki behind you is enough to startle the both of you into sobriety. You look back, and Gojo and Mizuki raise their brows at the two of you simultaneously.

"If you're going to fuck each other, don't do it here. Go on," Gojo smirks, jerking his chin at you. "Get out of here."

Neither of you needs any more permission to take off and go back to the hotel.

"Get your things and meet me on floor ten."

You fumble with the keycard as you stumble into the hotel room you shared with Mizuki. Nothing but the thoughts of being under Geto fill your mind as you throw your things into a bag and rush up to the tenth floor.

Geto is standing in front of the elevators and scrolling on his phone, his black jacket slung over his shoulder and tattoos on full display from his forearms to his elbows. Shit.

He notices you immediately and holds his hand out for your bag, then walks you to a room at the end of the hall. The plush carpet beneath you makes you a little unsteady on your feet, but you keep your composure and step into the room behind him. He sets your bag on the couch in the room, sighing and placing his jacket over it before walking over to where you are, still standing at the now-closed door in anticipation. He tilts your chin up and smiles, leaning in for a kiss without speaking.

And you give him exactly what he wants, pressing your back against the door as Geto runs his hands over your body slowly, deliberately. "You've been driving me crazy all night long," he muses, pulling away from you and tapping your nose with his index finger. "But now I've got you right where I want you."

"Wait," you murmur, head hazy, already drunk on his essence. "I don't even know your first name."

"Suguru," he whispers against your lips. "But I go by Su."

And before you know it, you're moaning that name over and over again, his head between your legs and hands on your thighs. You can see all of his tattoos from his back to his hips, and for a moment, you're lost in the intricate patterns and swirls and animals. Your hands are tangled in his hair, and he moans when you tug slightly on it, pushing him into your cunt a little more.

"Please, Su..." you beg, and he answers your request by sucking on your clit and flicking his eyes up to watch your face change. "Oh my god." Your rock your hips against his face, and he hums loudly, bordering on a growl while his tongue flicks back and forth. "Ah!" Your orgasm arrives faster than you thought it would, catching you off-guard and making your back arch.

Suguru grabs your hips and repositions you so he's still eating you out as you cum. And when you're done, he pulls away slowly, licking his lips and peeling his pants off.

"That's a good girl," he mutters, pushing your legs up and grasping his hard length. "You ready for me?"

"Yes, please," you whine, and Suguru slides his cock up and down your pussy before slapping it with his cock head a few times.

"Wet as fuck," he groans, then slides into you, barely getting his cock past your entrance before easing up. "And tight as shit. Damn, Satoru owes me ten bucks."

You're about to ask what the hell that means, but he slides back into you, and the thought evaporates. "Oh, Su!" The man slides back out, then in, gaining a few inches each time. His hips meet yours with a slap of skin, a rhythm he maintains as your own personal initiation begins.

"Keep those hips still for me, kitten." You obey, moaning in time with his thrusts and watching his cock pump in and out of you with a milky, white ring of your cum forming at the base. "Look at that... You're creamin' all over my cock." All you can do is moan in response, feeling your body flush under his gaze. Lithe fingers dance around your collarbone before sliding back down to your breasts, toying with your nipples carefully.

"Can we..." You gasp as he leans down and swipes his tongue across your breast, the sound of your moans and groans cutting through the static in your head.

"What'd you say?"

"Can we--" Another gasp is pulled from you when Suguru tugs your right nipple with his teeth, delivering a shock of pain and pleasure.

"You keep stopping mid-sentence, kitten. Spit it out." All this time, he hasn't stopped thrusting into you, and you frown a little, trying to recall what you wanted to say.

"Su, can we please -- ah!" Suguru drives a hand toward your clit and rolls it between his fingers.

"Baby," he chastises, smirking playfully. "Didn't they teach you to finish your sentences in grade school?" You huff in response, and Suguru laughs, pulling his hand away and leaning over you. "No, really. What is it, y/n?"

"Can you fuck me from behind, please?" Suguru's brows raise, and you swallow hard, feeling him pull out slowly.

"Be my guest," he encourages you, and you flip over, scooting to the edge of the bed eagerly. Suguru slaps each ass cheek once before entering you again. "Go ahead," he murmurs, and you bounce back onto his cock, taking control. You look back at the Yakuza member and bite your bottom lip, feeling your climax build.

"Feels so fucking good, Su," you whisper, and his mouth parts at the way you look. "So damn sexy..."

He slides out of you almost instantly, pushing you onto the bed and mounting you from above. "Trying to make me cum, huh? I know your little tricks. I've got something for that." He doesn't sound displeased at all, just a little surprised, but his reaction no longer matters as he pounds into your little cunt as hard and fast as he can, pushing your hips into the bed over and over again. A hand crawls up to your neck, and Suguru latches his lips onto your earlobe, traveling lower while he fucks you so hard that the headboard begins to shake.

"The h-headboard," you cry out, but Suguru pays you no mind, keeping you in place while he thrusts into your abused cunt until you tip over the edge, choking out a sound between a wail and grunt.

"Good girl," he whispers in your ear as your hand scramble to find purchase among the silken sheets and pointless pillows. "Cum for me... just like that." A ragged inhale triggers his climax, but you're still riding your high as he rocks into your cunt, filling you with his cum. You both lay on the bed, recovering with deep inhales and exhales, and a soft moan or two.

"Shit," you breathe.

"That was fucking amazing." Suguru stays inside of you but pulls you onto your side so he's spooning your body carefully.

"You're in the Yakuza," you whisper. "Does this mean I can never tell anyone about what we did?" Suguru laughs loudly, shaking your body as he holds you.

"Everyone watched you and I leave, I don't think there's any confusion about what we're doing. And even if they didn't Gojo will tell them for sure." You groan, but Suguru pulls you in closer. "Don't worry, y/n. I won't let them embarrass you. I'll make sure to let them see you with me on dates, too."

[crossguild]

i'm relistening to season one and while i understand the appeal of a found family narrative, the hephaestus crew is not one. they're SUCH assholes to each other. eiffel says 'yeah, mincowski?', but says her name correctly when he was called out on not showing her enough respect, meaning he's just been mispronouncing her name wrong this whole time even after he learned to say it.

eiffel stole a tube of toothpaste, threatened to destroy it, and minkowski turned the temperature of the room to negative 40 for several hours before hitting him hard enough to knock him out.

hera, minkowski and hilbert collectively decide that lying to eiffel by telling him there is hot water when there decidedly is not was a good way to manipulate him into taking a shower (which i get, but which is also a much worse way to manipulate him into doing something than say, being nice to him)

minkowski asks him for backup to handle the plant monster and eiffel, not taking her seriously, shows up with nothing, and minkowski then instantly calls him a moron about it.

minkowski calls hera a malfunctioning piece of software in like, episode 7, the same episode where eiffel says that he doesn't trust her as far as he can throw her. hera in 'am i alone now' wonders to herself if she might miss eiffel when he's gone and she goes 'lol, doubt it' , which should really give anyone listening to s1 of this podcast an idea of their relationship four hundred days into the mission

within the first three minutes of episode 12, eiffel calls minkowski confiscating his cigarettes a gestapo raid, lest we start feeling too bad for him. at this point, and honestly up through WELL into season 4, the only good thing i can say about eiffel is that he usually MEANS well but people are really out here imagining kepler as the privileged bigot?? when there's not a single example of him calling other people nazis?

there's not a single moment in the first 12 or so episodes where any of them demonstrate any kind of genuine affection, thoughtfulness or consideration for ANY of the others. nobody gets anyone so much as a coffee, which happens multiple times after the si5 shows up (pretty much exclusively between the si5 as well, except when kepler offers to get eiffel a cookie, which seems to be courtesy neither he nor anyone else ever extended on the hephaestus but which the si5 do for each other regularly), no one grabs an extra snack or pizza or any kind of food for someone else until the si5 shows up, but they sure HAVE done a lot of resource-hoarding and violence to each other.

they're all assholes who are stuck in the same place and forced to cooperate or die, which is a character dynamic i find fun and compelling, but which is not anything close to a found family dynamic. nobody 'finds' a family with a bunch of people they don't like, much less barely tolerate. not letting someone die is less of a friendship than a 'i don't wanna deal with a dead body' scenario

they MAYBE start to get there in season 4, and that's a BIG maybe, because it could just as easily be a 'coworkers start to hate each other less' situation. i've been avoiding relistening to s1 cause i thought it was boring my first listen-through, i actually forgot how viscerally mean, vindictive and petty they were to each other and i have to wonder if the reason people don't see anything wrong with it is cause they relate too much to that kind of behavior

again, cool if people like to imagine them having a found family dynamic!

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 10

The Darkling x Reader

*I’ve changed this part like 5 times so if there’s any inconsistencies I do apologize 😝

In a perfect world, you and Aleksander would have spent the day in his luxurious bed surrounded by his soft silk sheets. You felt an overwhelming feeling to open up to him, to tell him everything that happened to you since you saw him last, nearly a century ago, but life has a way to ruin perfect opportunities.

Wars didn't take breaks or vacations, they got more deadly as time went on and each side got more nervous as more people gave their lives to the cause. A solution was necessary and from your understanding, Aleksander still had the same plan as he did all those years ago he just had a different way to go about them. No doubt Alina was at the center of them.

You had business to attend to too. The first on the list was a meeting with the council. The King and his advisors were to be there to 'greet' you with open arms, but you were sure you'd have to put on a quick performance of your abilities to satisfy their curious minds.

Maybe that's why he gave me the shadows, to ensure my position. You quickly brushed off the thought. It didn't really matter to you why he did what he did. You had your shadows back. He claimed protection, but you knew there was a different reason behind it as well. It seemed too quick and too easy in your opinion but who were you to judge what kind of trust he truly had in you. You felt comfort that you always had piece of him wherever you went.

On a lighter note, you could finally wear a black kefta. The thought itself had you quickly leaping out of his bed and skipping to your chambers in a mere robe through the secret passages of the Palace. You didn't want anybody to see you leaving his quarters, not in the state you were in. You needed to grab a Healer and get rid of those very visible marks on your neck that Aleksander took his time creating. He intended to mark you as his own but jokes on him, you never wanted to belong to anybody but yourself.

Time passed and servents scurried in and out of your chambers, carrying information from here there and everywhere. You were already overwhelmed with tasks and your position wasn't even announced to the Palace yet. You were still the mysterious Grisha that served with the Darkling, not for.

Your vanity was covered in papers and reports in handwriting you had trouble reading and your bed had maps strung across it. Aleksander truly meant it when he said he would get you started right away and share his responsibilities as soon as he got the chance.

When the time finally came, you were escorted to the Grand Palace with Aleksander walking right next to you. The conversation was devoted to work and nothing else, Fjerdan intel, rumors of West Ravka and Zlatan, and upcoming skiff journeys but you didn't mind. You were damn good at your job, having started out in the First Army and then joining the Second Army had given you experience not even the General had, it's what made you the first pick when dealing with plans involving otkazat'sya soldiers, they respected you. I wonder if they will now.

You had spent 3 years in the First Army once upon a time. You came from a wealthy merchant family, a family full of drunks and abusers and cowards. You gave up the feeling of a full stomach and duck-feathered beds for the rations of the army once your mother admitted to you being a bastard and not worthy of the family name. What a shame. Look at me now.

You never knew what you could do, but a slip-up with a Tidemaker had you served to the Darkling on a silver platter. He was meaner then, more unforgiving. Your years spent with him after that had changed him, made him better in your eyes. You fell for him, hard, even though there was so much death and destruction in his wake. When you love somebody, it’s easy to see past all of the nasty stuff and focus on whatever is left of the good and Aleksander still had an abundance of if.

You could still remember his cold stare as he asked you what the hell you were. After pleading with him that you didn't know and his Heartrenderer confirming it, he whisked you away to the Little Palace where soon enough you had become his equal, if not his superior.

'I actually wanted to ask you something about one of the Grisha in the Palace. I seen her with Alina, red-hair, big blue eyes... she wore a white kefta?' You said as you wlaked down a mirrored hallway in the Royal building.

'Oh, that's Genya Saffin. She works for the King and Queen.' He said with an underlying tone of irritation.

'What does she do? She wears a white kefta so I'm just curious'

'She's a tailor. Member of the Corporalki. She should be wearing red, I know. But trust me the time will come' He ushered us both into a guarded room of glitering gold and pearly white walls. So tacky. I could make out the king slumped in an overdone throne-like chair.

'Moi tsar' you and Aleksander bowed much to your distastes. You hoped nobody had seen the brief look of disgust wash over your face as the Lanstov King rose and gave his advisors a raised eyebrow, signalling to you. A man wearing a navy uniform looked at you like a piece of meat ready to be devoured. I'm gonna throw up.

'Deputy General Y/L/N is it?' He took your hand in his own sweaty one gave it a wet kiss. 'You Grisha are always easy on the eyes aren't you?'

You took a step back and cleared your throat. 'Yes, Moi Tsar, it is an honour to make your acquantance' You tried so hard to keep your fists at your sides.

'And what can you bring to the war table, apart from the newest fashion' He let out an obnoxious laugh and his advisors followed. They all looked smug and spoiled. None of them had any idea what the real world looked like and yet had the audacity to sit this council. I'll show them what it means to be powerful.

Aleksander stepped away to the side and gave you a nod. You slowly unravlled your fist and plunged the room into darkness while simultanseoly blowing a strong wind throughout the space, letting papers fly in all directions and the fire go out. You relit it, and every candle in the room. The man in the navy unifrom got the runt of your powers, as you slowly medled with his heart until he breathed a worried laugh 'Stop it Girl'.

But you didn't stop, you carefully stared at the chair the man sat in and pushed it just enough for him to let out a yell. You accidently let out a chuckle that was meant to be in your head. You felt Aleksander move toward you 'All right, that should be enough' He said visibly amused too. You let it all drop.

'It's Deputy General to you' You looked at his fearful face that tried to cover by fixing his jacket and whiping away invisible dust off of his shoulder.

'I must say I am impressed. With the Sun-Summoner and... you, we will have West Ravka and the surroundings begging for our alliances.' He sat down on his chair once again and pointed to an empty one across from him and to the right of Aleksander, who unbeknownst to you had already seated himself.

'Please, Deputy General, do take a seat, we have business to tend to'

****

A painful 2 hours later you and Aleksander walked out of the Grand Palace. You had a headache and your hands hurt from clentching them so hard.

'I'm assuming you sitting the King's meetings for me is off the table now?' Aleksander mused and all you could do was give him a side-eye.

'I think I want to kill him'

'In due time'

You weren't even surprised. If he didn't do it himself you definitely would have taken one for the team. That man is unbearable; like a child in a grown man's body.

As you wallked into your home, Aleksander gently took hold of your wrist and pulled you in the direction of his quarters.

'Come'

Your head was pounding too much to say no so you obliged. The hallways were bare of people, not a Grisha in sight.

You reached his war room doors and walked in after him. He pulled out a map and laid it down.

'I've sent out a First-Army search for the Stag.'

You paused. The headache suddenly gone. Morozova’s Stag. He had tried once before and failed. The weeks following his failure sent him into a frenzy, he questioned Morazovas journals and almost burned them all, but you had gotten to him last-minute. You never doubted the stag to be real. You just never believed he would use it. He's powerful on his own unless- it's for Alina.

You audibly sighed and leaned your back against the table. Alina.

'Does she want it?'

'Does that matter?'

‘Of course it matters!’ You scorned but he stayed silent.

You turned to look at him and whispered 'What are you planning this time?' He had been dropping hints here and there, but so far there was no plan you knew of. 'I can't help you if I don't know the plan'

'No. You're better of not knowing anything. I can't lose you again' you turned you head and looked at his side profile.

'But you need me. I'm powerful, I can lead an army'

'If anything happens you can take over for me then, Deputy.' He cocked a sad smile and left a lingering kiss on your forhead before he left you standing in the war room alone and confused.

Part 11

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal

[imthatchishiyasimp]

Loses and promises

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hi!!! I'm back hehe

It took me a long time to wrap my head around this idea, but I think I like how it turned out. I've been busy with work and I didn't get to post anything this week, I'm sorry.

Also: BIG THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT, THE LIKES AND REBLOGS AND FOLLOWS!!! I didn't, in a million times, thought you would like this THAT much. I really appreciate it, love you so much.

Without further ado, enjoy the read!!

TW: Blood, death and injuries are both mentioned and described

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knock on his door, hard and fast. Jumping in one foot, I try to keep my balance while I tie my trainer. I rest my back on the door to prevent the obvious fall, and I finish tying the shoe. Except the door suddenly opens and I fall backwards pretty fast with a little scream.

“What the fuck?” He says, catching me by the shoulders and stepping back. “What do you want?” The question rolls with scepticism as he turns me around to face me.

I arch my eyebrows and point my finger to my wrist, simulating the time in a wristwatch.

“Already?” Chishiya hums and crosses his arms. “I must have lost track of time. Have they already made the teams?”

“Yup, and guess who’s going to annoy you for the rest of the night…”

He makes a face that’s supposed to look bothered. And he sure is bothered, he hates having to deal with me during games. But I can see through that. He’s not the only one that hates pairing in games; I do too. Not only because he’s annoying and always acts like he’s the only one worthy of winning, but because I would hate to be involved in a heart’s game with him. I know he would do anything to survive, anything, even if it kills him. And I would too. And he knows it.

“We are leaving in a few minutes. Get ready, you lazy ass” I turn around and head to my room to finish getting ready. I hear his breathy laugh just as he starts closing the door of his room. I might need something to protect myself, or something to get rid of people. Who knows what we will be facing tonight.

The car is full of people and smells like alcohol, drugs and sweat. It’s disgusting and I try to get my face as far as it can go through the window.

“Will you stop moving? It’s pretty uncomfortable and I hate the smell as much as you, so either you make me a place in that window or I throw you off my lap” Chishiya says, calmly and quietly near my ear. My hair blows as his breath leaves his lips and chills run through my body, keeping me so still that it seems as if I turned into rock.

Indeed I am in his lap, and indeed I have been moving. But just because I want to breathe fresh air. Just because of that. Sure. No reason behind.

I laugh, in silence, but I laugh. There were too many people in need of refilling their visas, so we had to pair in greater groups. And I was so not gonna sit in the laps of the horny people overbooking the Beach. So , after a huge fight, I made Chishiya sit under me, in exchange of looking for white hair dye.

I move just a bit more to play with him and I feel him tense under me, his hands coming to my hips. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop” So I move to the edge and get comfortable on his knees, leaving him a small place on the window to put his face.

We watch as the city moves in darkness, leaving behind flashes of light holding game’s arenas. I can hear distant music and screams, gunshots and creepy sounds. Maybe it’s real, maybe it’s my imagination, but I would swear on my visa that they won’t stop when the sun comes up. It’s been so long that even when I close my eyes I can still listen to the people dying in their games. I try to silence them with other things, and sometimes it works, but I’m getting tired of it.

The doors of a forest garden awaits us as we arrive. It’s a closed part of the outskirts of the city, enclosing a private area huge enough to get lost wandering around.

The tables at both sides of the door have the phones and some weapons. There’s no limit entry and it looks like there might be enough phones for the lot of us. There are five other people alongside Chishiya and I. I only know two of them: Hiro, the cook at the Beach, and Ume, a bookish girl that’s always lounging in the silent rooms. The rest look kind of familiar but I don’t remember talking to them.

I get off Chishiya’s lap with a hop and take a phone off the table. It beeps with the facial recognition and just says to wait ten minutes to close the entry.

“Want to bet on the game?” Chishiya asks, nodding to the doors.

“Probably a physical, given that we are so far from the city. So I would say a spade one” I guess. It looks like we will have a big arena, and probably something to run from, if we take into account the weapons.

“Looks like your brain hasn’t died yet” He moves before I can get him with a punch.

“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED, THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 7 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE”

All of us gather at the entrance, some of us already with weapons in our hands. I’ve chosen a blade big enough to protect me and some small knives hidden in my top and trainers. I don’t like guns and they run out of ammo quite quickly.

“DIFFICULTY: EIGHT OF SPADES”

“GAME: LABYRINTH”

“RULE: YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO CONTINUE IF YOU DON’T PASS THE TESTS. YOU MUST START ALONE, BUT YOU ARE NOT FORBIDDEN TO PAIR ONCE STARTED THE MAZE”.

“CLEAR CONDITION: FIND YOUR WAY AROUND THE MAZE AND SUCCESSFULLY OPEN THE EXIT DOOR. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN YOU GET THROUGH THE EXIT DOOR”.

“TIME LIMIT: 2 HOURS”.

“AFTER THE 2 HOURS HAVE PASSED, THE MAZE WILL BE SHUT DOWN WITH NO EXIT”.

The doors open and we enter the maze. There are several “starts” written on the floor at the entrance of different passages. The walls are so high that I can’t even try to guess what’s at the top. It’s too dark to see more than a few meters from your hands, and the cold is starting to get annoying.

The seven of us position ourselves one next to each other on the central passages and we wait. No sound can be heard, no light can be seen. It’s creepy as hell. I look sideways and I spot Chishiya lowering his hood and lifting his sleeves. He totally hates running, but you can bet he’s gonna give it all.

“GAME START”

Without hesitation, I sprint into my passage.

I’ve been running non stop since the beginning, and this maze is big as hell itself. People always tell you to stick to the left or right and you will get to the end, and that I’ve been doing. But just when I could. There are so many traps around, it’s like they didn’t think we could survive this, so they threw everything they got.

From knife floors, poison ponds, holes… My feet are done for the day, my legs are bathed in blood from the knives and spikes, and I feel kinda dizzy because of the poison gas. But I keep running. The time is halfway gone, and I don’t think I’m even close to the exit.

I haven’t heard any of the other players since the start. I’m a bit worried, and I keep going back to their faces at the car, at the entrance and the moment I lost sight of them when I started running. Will I see them again? How many of them? Will someone make it?

I turn to the left and get thrown to the floor with a nudge on the nose.

“Holy fuck!” I scream in agony, holding my bleeding nose. I would bet my visa on it, it’s broken for sure. Oh God it hurts too much. My face feels heavy and it stings deep inside.

“Jesus, where the hell are you going without looking? Are you stupid? You could have met some kind of trap, idiot”

I look up and catch a glimpse of white hair. But just a glimpse, because the whole rest of Chishiya is covered in ashes. The bastard just stays there, looking down at me without offering a hand. Totally expected that, to be honest.

I get up and punch him straight in the chest. He howls and gets away looking angry. “You deserved that, you totally smashed your elbow on my face on purpose. You were just waiting there to punch me”

“What the fuck? Why would I?”

I study the situation and try to look for lies, but it’s a lost cause with him. “Shut up and start running, we have a long way to go”

So both of us pair up and keep on running together, helping each other in a few traps to minimize the damage. We still get burned and sliced, but we manage to stay together for a good twenty minutes.

Until we don’t.

We are on an empty corridor surrounded by bindweed. What I thought was going to be a calm and peaceful section turns into a nightmare. From nowhere, ropes start to come out and try to catch our feet, arms and trunk.

Both of us jump and get down to escape from the ropes, sometimes getting too close to the bushes and winning new bruises everywhere. The strength that these things have is incredible and intolerable. It feels as if my bones are breaking under the knots. I grasp Chishiya’s hand to keep from getting sucked into the wall, and he takes me out of it. His hand grips mine with a strength I didn’t know he possessed, and I dwell on the feeling of his cold and soft fingers around mine, enjoying the safety his presence gives anywhere he is.

Lost in his eyes, which are making sure I’m not caught into any ropes anymore, we get pulled away in an instant and Chishiya disappears from my sight into the wall, his eyes not leaving mine.

“No! You bastard! You don’t get to abandon me here! Come back!” I scream into the bushes. I slice the ropes with my knives and get away from that corridor as fast as I can.

My face still hurts from the nudge, and my arm feels funny. Both my legs are covered in bruises and cuts from the ropes and the falls. I’m a mess. Everything hurts. Everything is a mess.

I go back to the feeling of finding him. Maybe I didn’t dwell on it, but I felt safer, I felt relieved to have some company; I felt happy to have him there with me, to back me up and get me through difficult things. Will I see him again? Is he okay? Will he be there?

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You better be there when I get off this fucking maze, or I will search for you to cut you into pieces” I whisper to the night, running again, looking behind me from time to time to check if he’s behind me, stoping just before a turn to prevent another hit. He totally did that on purpose.

I step into a two paths corridor. Both of them are covered in darkness and I can’t say which one looks better. Not wanting to lose any more time, I take the right one, although it doesn’t take me long to return. The blood covers the floor and gets sticky when I step into it. I bend over to see what’s in front of me and gulp down seeing the body of Hiro full of insects eating him alive.

He’s whimpering in pain and coughing blood, moving just a bit, probably paralyzed. I don’t know when he catches me, but his eyes get full of tears and he mouths a silent plea, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the blood. I remember when I met him, asking for a bite of something after a run through the city and hungry enough to eat whatever. He made me a simple sandwich, but I swear it was the best one I have ever had. He stayed in the kitchen with me, talking about his life and asking too many questions. Ever since then, he’s always been there when I needed to disconnect from the games, from the people, from the world. Always with a smile and a new recipe to try.

Now all that is left is pain and suffering.

Getting as close as I dare, I whisper a silent sorry and goodbye before ending his suffering. I run away and don’t look back at all, his face and pain engraved in my mind.

When I get to the exit I almost scream in relief. It’s a big door made of small bars with a big “EXIT” written in red above it. The time is almost up and I can’t see anyone here. The place where I came from is not the only way of getting here, there are three more corridors ending in this place.

The thing is, the doors are closed, and they have a huge key hole in the middle. I look around and I spot a key shining on the top of the door. It’s hanging by a thread, laughing at me from up there.

I scoff, tired as I can be, and I stop in front of the door. Guessing from the place where it is, I must need to climb through the door and it doesn’t seem dangerous at all, but I still don’t trust it. Checking the time I decide that I can’t risk it on trying to search for another way of getting the key, so I grasp the bars.

The heat burns through me and paralyzes me in the spot. I feel as if my hand is going to come off right now. I let go of the door and caress the palm of my hand, blowing air as kindly as I can, tears streaming down my face of the pain.

“FIVE MINUTES LEFT”

“I hate this. I hate it so much” Curses leave my lips as I get higher and higher, once again at the door and burning my hands and feet in the process. I can’t feel it anymore, I just know it’s painful and it’s going to leave ugly scars. I grip the key and rip it from the thread and throw myself to the floor, not caring to limb down properly.

The floor meets my back and I roll over. I would have stayed there, I swear. I was done with everything. My whole body was hurting, my mind was going blank and kept screaming.

“Tsk” I hear some rustling near me and then a foot nudges me on the back of my head. “Are you alive there?” I moan in response and turn over, glaring at the clever smirk of Chishiya. “Do you mind handing over the key? I’m in desperate need of a shower”.

“I don’t know, would you mind stopping hitting me on purpose?” I mumble through moans of pain.

He sighs and bends next to me, placing his face just above mine, our noses almost touching. I can feel his breath, the quick rhythm it still has, the cold and the smell of sweat and toxic reaching me.

“For the last time, I did not hit you on purpose” He whispers looking straight at me.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I question. You won't ever know with him.

“Trust me, if I had hit you on purpose, I would have done it a lot harder”. His eyes hold that smart look, the condescending vibes all around him, but I think I can see worry and relief and…

“Oh fucking hell, yes! You guys made it! We are saved and alive and… Oh God, two minutes left, tell me you know how to open that door or I will kill myself right here” One of the guys we came with sprouts from a passage, holding Ume’s limping form and followed by another guy who’s gripping a tourniquet around his arm. I’m glad to see most of us are alive after that hell.

Chishiya takes the fey from my hand with caution to not touch the burnt parts of my palms and fingers. He quickly pushes the key into the lock and pushes the door hard.

I don’t know why, but I was scared of it not opening. Silly, I know, but after so many games with tricks at the end, I didn’t know what to expect. The phones beep immediately, and I struggle to get up to a sitting position.

“GAME CLEAR”.

“CONGRATULATIONS”.

Relief flows inside all of us, dropping to the floor and crying happy tears. Is it really a win? It doesn't feel like that anymore. I think I've lost some things inside those walls and darkness.

I thought I was hurting, but in just a second, all the injuries I have, start to really hurt and the pain makes me close my eyes and shake like crazy. I might need a whole week of rest after this.

Arms come from behind me and take me up. I’m lost in the sudden change of position and it takes me a while to realize Chishiya is holding me in a bridal style. He quickly gets ahead of the rest, not caring to check if they are following us, and heads to the place we left the car.

It’s a long way until we get there and I nod off a few times, resting my head and hiding in his soft tingling hair, taking his scent apart from all the other ones. I don’t dream at all, it’s all blank, but I wake up startled looking for Hiro or Chishiya, afraid they’re not here anymore. I get sad and I cry silently when I remember Hiro’s body and scared face, pleading for mercy; and I sigh with relief when I feel Chishiya holding me tighter after I wake up shaking, crossing our eyes and making me feel safe with just a look.

“Don’t ever disappear like that again. Don’t even dare. Promise me” I angrily say after one of my nightmares. He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t need him to. He just needs to know. I pretend I don’t see the almost imperceptible nod he does once I return to put my head on his chest.

The ride back is a blur. We have more space now that two of us are missing, but it’s heavy inside. I keep next to Chishiya, him holding me while I rest and sleep in between nightmares. None of us has said anything since we left the forest. We are all relieving our paths along the maze, the things we saw and the hopelessness we felt, the fear of being left there forever.

The sunrise marks our arrival at the Beach. People there are waiting for the cars still gone and they welcome us with joy and worry. We are rushed to the medical room to get checked up on, and although I try to walk there, pathetically I must say, I can feel Chishiya is ready to ame me in case I fall. He leaves once An puts me on a bed and starts treating my wounds.

But I know he will be back. He always comes back. He promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you liked it!! Give me some feedback and love if you might, I would love to hear from you.

As always, I'm still open to requests and comments. If you want me to tag you on the next post, do tell me!

Be safe and take care!!

[reignstormz]

| Lion & The Lamb |

INTRO; After hiding your secret crush on the hottest guy in school since freshman year, senior comes around and you finally come face to face with the Samoan, sharing an intimate moment together.

WORD COUNT; 2,300 (maybe, not sure, had some issues, pretty short)

WARNINGS; Takes place in 1984, Bullying, Sweet interactions.

CAST; Y/N ( Yourself) Y/B/F/ N ( Your best friend's name) Roman, Jey, Jimmy, Naomi, and Galina Anoa'i. (Just a story, not saying Galina is anything like her character in this fic)

MINI PLAYLIST; Give Me Your Love - Pebbles/ Two Occasions - The Deele / Ready Or Not - After 7 / Rock With You - Michael Jackson / Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

🦋

NOVEMBER 9th, 1984

The sounds of teenage laughter filled your ears as you sat in the passengers seat of your best friend's car. You sighed, trying the best you could to block out the noise as you read your book that was sitting in your lap. It was a hectic, busy Friday night. Your school's football team had just won yet another game and everyone was at the Drive In Movie Theatre to celebrate, goof around, or get down to business. Typical things that high school students would be up to. You on the other hand, didn't go to the game and was only here because your best friend practically dragged you out of the house.

You were not so big into the normal teenage, high school experiences. You were very quiet, antisocial, and didn't have many friends. School dances weren't your thing, especially parties. Instead, your way of having fun was just keeping yourself company. You were one of the smartest, if not, the smartest girl in school; You were a straight-A student, and you loved to read. Reading brought you joy and gave you the opportunity to escape to a different reality. Many people labeled you as nerdy, but you could care less.

You were over people picking on you, and judging you, which was one of the biggest reasons why you were so reserved. You got bullied heavily up to 4th grade, and your parents decide to homeschool you until high school came around. They wanted things to turn around for you, but it was the exact same. The only difference was, you made one solid friend and you ate school lunch, something other than food from your refrigerator.

Currently, the theatre was going to show Prince's "Purple Rain" and you were in the car waiting for it to start with your best friend. She also happened to be a cheerleader. You met her in PE class, one joke led after another and you guys became very tight. You were kind of surprised that you two were friends since you were so opposite from each other, and from different crowds.

Y/B/F/N's turned her head to look at you. She sighed, rolling her eyes briefly before she snatched your book out of your grasp. You groaned with irritation, and turned as well to make eye contact with her, "Can you stop? You made me lose my place."

"Can you just have fun for once? Girl. We're at the movies and the first thing you want to do is shove your nose into a book." She shades, throwing your book into the backseat.

"I didn't want to come tonight." You stress to her, "I have studying and homework I need to do-"

"That's all you ever do." She cuts you off. "Come on, you've known how long I've wanted to see this movie. Just do this one thing for me, please?"

"So you want me to sit in a car for an hour?" You questioned. A smile slowly creeped onto her face, which quickly answered your question.

You sighed, unbuckling your seatbelt to get out of the car. She furrowed her eyebrows, "Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm getting snacks." You replied, and before you got out of the car she grabbed onto your wrist.

"Can you get some popcorn? Please?" She asked, with clear as day begging look on her face. You rolled your eyes and got out of the car before she asked for candy as well. Any ounce of candy in her system was a not an option, especially since she had to still take you home tonight. As you walked to the concession stand, you saw just about every single familiar face from school. You were so focused on not making eye contact with anyone that you accidentally bumped into another person in front of you, causing their drink to spill all over your white long sleeved shirt. A couple people who were walking by giggled and the girl you bumped into couldn't of been worse.

"Even those ridiculous glasses you wear still can't help you watch where you're going." Galina dissed, looking you up and down before pushing past your shoulder. Her best friend, Naomi, looked at you apologetically for a second before following behind her. You sighed, looking down at your ruined shirt and turned your head, glaring at her. You saw Galina and Naomi walk back to their car, where the the most popular guys in school happened to be. The twins, Jimmy and Jey Uso, were sitting in the trunk of the car while the guy you've had the biggest crush on for the longest was leaning against it.

Roman Reigns was by far the hottest guy you've ever laid eyes on. He was the captain of the football team, he was smart, and also very kind as well believe it or not. You've only talked to him once, and that was when your chemistry teacher paired you two up for a project not too long ago. Roman was nothing but sweet to you, but since you were extremely shy and quiet, you barely said a word to him the entire time. Not only that, you didn't want any rumors to get out that you liked him. You would get teased nonstop, and Galina, who happened to be his girlfriend, would go out of her way to publicly humiliate you. However, it was nothing new. She was the typical mean girl that everyone was afraid of; You, well you weren't afraid of her really, you just didn't have the energy to deal with her bullshit so you always held your tongue.

"What happened to my fruit punch?" You heard Jey ask Galina. She sighed, wrapping her arm around Roman's waist while he looked down at her.

"Some nerd bumped into me and got it everywhere." She replies, and Roman raised his eyebrow.

"What nerd?" He says. Galina nods towards you. Before you and Roman made eye contact, you quickly turned back around and hurried to the bathroom to try to clean yourself up. This night couldn't get anymore embarassing, you thought.

You stared at yourself in the mirror with a lost expression. There was no way you were going to get this stain out of your shirt. You heavily sighed, adjusting your slightly crooked glasses. As you let a hand fall from your nose to your chin in stress, a strand of your sleeve ended up getting caught on a piece of your braces.

You rolled your eyes, groaning. You hated wearing braces for a million reasons, but this was the main reason why you couldn't wait to get them off soon. They got caught into everything. You tried again and again to get the strand to untangle itself but it wasn't budging. Shit, you thought. Now you had no choice but to go back to the car so your friend could help you. So many things were going wrong tonight and all you wanted to do was just go home at this point.

You took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. As you turned the corner, you almost ran into someone else for the second time. You sighed, closing your eyes for a second before looking down.

"I'm sorry." You apologized, sounding a little funny since the strand was still stuck on your braces.

"Damn, you need some help with that?" An attractive voice said, that you immediately recognized. Fuck, you cursed in your head. You slowly looked up and saw the tall Samoan tower over you with a concerned look on his face. You nervously started to tap your foot and your heart began to beat very fast.

His facial expression turned into an amused one and he gently took the strand out of your hand to help you get it loose, "I'll take that as a yes."

Within a minute, he got the strand loose from your braces and you were finally able to rest your arm by your side. You shyly pulled your sleeve shirt down, "Thanks.."

He nodded with a faint smile on his face. Little did you know, Roman always had a thing for you as well. He knew you as the quiet girl in class, ever since freshman year. It was now senior year and you haven't changed a bit. You guys were in classes together but never spoke before, or even sat together until one project. He admired the fact that you were different; Girls threw themselves at him all the time, which made you think that you could never stand a chance but you were wrong. He loved the fact that you were extremely smart and had a head on your shoulders. You had a unique type of beauty that he adored; The glasses, braces, the infectious laugh and the shyness. Roman deep down has a weak spot for the nerdy girls, even though no one knows about that at all. People assume all the time of what his type is or who he was as a person, when really no one knew who he truly was. The only people that knew him best were his family, and Galina at one point but as time went on Roman wasn't happy with the person she's become.

Galina was practically Roman's day one, they've known each other since they were kids through a family friend. She was never like this intimidating, rude person that she was now. Galina actually use to be very sweet, but ever since high school came around and she started hanging out with certain crowds, that's when the popularity really went to her head. Even though it made Roman sad at times that she wasn't the same person she used to be, he was not afraid to let her know how he felt about it. She promised him she'd change, but she's so far gone that it's out of control. You can't make people change, they have to do that on their own and if not, it's time to let them go. Roman thought about doing that many times, but he just didn't want to hurt her, especially with the history they had. It was just hard all around, and you made it even more tough for him.

"Whatchu' doin here all alone?" Roman asks curiously, then looked down at your shirt subtly. He saw a huge red stain and his mind went back to Galina saying she spilled her fruit punch on someone. He couldn't really make out your face since you walked away so fast, but now he figured out that you were the person that she might of spilled it on. Shit, he cursed in his head. Roman felt very guilty.

You noticed that he looked down at your shirt, causing you to slightly cover yourself from embarrassment. Chuckling nervously, you say "Oh, um. I accidentally spilled my drink everywhere..so I came here to clean it up."

He knew that you were lying since he was aware of what happened, but he didn't push it. He's noticed a lot of people cover Galina's ass so they don't get on her bad side. Roman nodded, looking down and unzipped his black jacket that was apart of his track suit, "I got sum' for you then."

"No no that's okay," You kindly reject. You look behind him to see if anyone walks in on the two of you and your heart starts to race. Lord knows that no one can see you in his jacket. Especially Galina, if so, everyone would be on your ass. You didn't feel like dealing with that drama.

Once he took the jacket fully off, your eyes went directly to his arms. Damn, his biceps were huge. You were completely glued to them until Roman jokes out of the blue, "You know, if you wanna' feel them you can just ask."

You snapped out of it and you covered your face, trying to hold back a laugh while blushing. You looked back up at him with a smile on your face, "That's hands down the corniest thing you've ever said to me."

"At least it made you laugh." Roman says with a small smile on his face. You admire his gorgeous smile while you had one of your own, gently grabbing the jacket out of his hands. You couldn't help but take it after that. This reminded you of all the times Roman would crack the dumbest jokes in class just to get you to smile, since you were so quiet and rarely talked to him. It went over your head that he only did it to impress you.

"I should probably back to my friend before she freaks out." You say shyly, thanking him for the jacket before getting ready to leave. Roman didn't want you to leave since he was enjoying this moment alone he had with you, so he thought fast and quickly stood in front of you. Real smooth, Roman.

You looked at him weirdly and Roman's face turned red. He was going to say something but he completely forgot his train of thought, making you want to laugh. The look on his face was priceless. The both of you grinned at each other before you fell out laughing.

"Don't look at me like that, girl.." Roman said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck while you giggled.

"I'm sorry, but you should've seen the look on your face." You pointed towards his face, not being able to contain your laughter, making him laugh even harder. He had the cutest laugh, you could listen to it all day. Once you guys both pulled it together, you both stared at each other in a comfortable silence before he asked, "Do you mind if I can buy you some popcorn or something?"

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that Roman-"

"Don't worry bout' it, come on." He chuckles, nodding towards the exit. You smiled at him, secretly loving every second of this. Never in a million years you would've thought a crush of yours would go out of his way to do this for you. Roman was such a good guy; You were having such a bad night before and he instantly made it better.

You both walked out of door and to the concession stand. The entire time, you guys stood there goofing off and talking while you waited in line. As you guys were occupied in a conversation, you noticed that you were getting a couple of suspicious looks since you were wearing Roman's jacket. However, no one dared to mess with you or give you slick comments either since they were shocked that you happened to be friends with him. Roman wouldn't hesitate to defend you if they did anyway in a heartbeat, but they knew better. You've seen Roman on multiple occasions stick up for people who got picked on at school, and it made your heart beat even harder for him. If there was a way you could just tell him how you felt, you would, but there was just no way in hell that was possible.

"Thanks, Roman. Even though I really don't need all of these snacks-" You giggled softly, looking down at the bag of snacks he had gotten you. Even though you couldn't never complain about snacks.

"Shh." He joked, cutting you off and took the opportunity to sneak cotton candy in your mouth so you'd stop talking, making you laugh. Roman smirked, taking his thumb and wiped off your bottom lip a little bit.

A frog got caught in your throat again as he flirtatiously wiped your lip. You both gazed into each other's eyes for what it seemed like forever until you both heard the movie start. You cleared your throat, and from behind him you saw Galina, Naomi and the Usos stare at you while they were still at the car. The Usos looked at each other with dumbfounded look on their face, like they wanted to laugh but they knew Galina would kill them. Naomi softly smiled at the two of you, while Galina had the most pissed off look on her face.

"Hey..I'll see you at school?" You say to him, with a soft smile on your face but not too noticeable since you knew Galina was staring at you.

Roman simply nodded, returning the smile and just stared at you in awe quietly. You said your goodbyes before you went back to your friend's car.

"Damn, Y/N. I just said popcorn not the whole concession stand." She says, looking at me weirdly. Then she just blankly stared at you for a minute before her eyes widen, realizing what you had on.

"Bitch, is that Roman's Jacket?" She squealed, and you hushed her real quick before she got excited.

"I'll explain later, okay?"

Your friend alternated looks between you and the movie, giving you the side eye as she took the popcorn out of your lap, "This conversation isn't over."

TAGS; @gold--gucciempress @wwzentertainment @flawlessglamazon @nicolewoo @romanreignshairdresser @sassymox @pennysky @lemonjvicey @thandiwethagirl @haharollins @rollinshield3 @sheerbeautyreigns @zaddyreigns @brookethegamer @alination @vir-tual @reigns-5sos @wickedsunfire

[bill-y]

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part three: Click this, Rumtumtugger.

Part four: you're here, jennyanydots

Part five: Clicky dicky here, buddy

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Those words left my mouth without much thought. I wasn't thinking of the damned consequences at the moment.

Behind me was Kunal, an iron grip on my leg, bawling his eyes out. "Y/N! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T GO!" he pleaded, his cries getting louder by the second. 

My hand ruffled his strawberry blonde hair, messing it up. "Let go, Nal," I said in the calmest tone I could muster. He shook his head, tears running down his cheeks, I cleared my dry throat, gulping down nothing. My mouth was dry as if I just ate a handful of salt, which was honestly a luxury.

My face remained stoic, the moment I show a sign of distress I know the people in the Capitol would eat it up like good bread. It entertains them, our suffering entertains them. 

His hands slipped from my leg, gripping on my pants before he was finally taken away from me. "Up you go, Owl eyes," said Gale, his voice trying hard to remain steady. Beside him was Katniss, who was holding Kunal by the shoulders. She nodded, "Good luck, Y/n,"

I nodded, before looking back at the temporary stage. "Oh well, Bravo!" Effie exclaimed. "That's the spirit of the games!"

She was thrilled, finally seeing some action from this district. It made a pit in my stomach, I clenched my jaw. If only the roles were reversed, Capitol people fighting for their lives instead of us.

Oh, how funny that would be.

I strode to the stage, trying my best to look collected. The foreboding feeling in my stomach only grew with each step I took, my hands sweating as if they've just been dipped into water once I finally took my place.

"Do tell us your name," Effie said, her grin widening as she nodded, encouraging me to talk. It took all the will power I had to not strangle her.

"Y/n Greyback," I replied dryly, hoping it would set her off.

“I bet my buttons that was your brother. Don’t want him to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!” she trilled, making me clench my fists.

Her words were met with silence. No one clapped, not a noise can be heard. Even the ones who would usually bet on who would wound up as a tribute didn't do anything.

I held back a smile, a surge of hope flowing through me. This was the most rebellious thing they could do without getting punishment of any sort. Silence.

Silence doesn't mean fear or that we're cowards. It meant that we do not accept this, we do not condone.

Just as my father always said, one does not need to shout to make a change.

The next thing that happened was even more of a surprise. Maybe it was because I was a son of a "rebel", maybe they pitied my family or maybe it was because I talked to the mayor's daughter.

Just one, then two, then a group almost all of the crowd put the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.

My tense hands relaxed a sense of calm washing over me. We were united in a strange way, something I thought would only happen in my dreams.

"Look at him! Look at this one!" Hollered Haymitch, throwing an arm around my shoulder. His arm was quite heavy, understandable, he's a wreck. "I like him!"

The scent of alcohol from his breath was strong, or maybe he just smelled of alcohol. "Lots of. . ." He paused, trying to think of a word.

I cringed as he slightly swayed around, trying my best to not touch him. "Spunk!" he declared triumphantly. "More than you!"

He released me, staggering to the front of the stage. "More than you!" He declared once more, pointing towards the camera.

Was he talking to the audience? Or maybe he was addressing the Capitol. I wish it's the latter, that would be funny.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue, he fell down the stage, knocking himself unconscious in the process. I snickered slightly, my face scrunching up right after.

Thankfully, the cameras were all pointed towards him, watching as they whisked him away into a stretcher. I took this moment to glare back into the distance, watching the scenery.

There was the hill that me, Katniss and Gale were just at. It looked so peaceful, contrary to my day.

"What an exciting day!" Effie warbled, trying to fix her tilted wig. It looked ridiculous. Why would Capitol people, no, why would anyone wear that?

It looks ugly, like a beaten up squirrel. Though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't eye-catching, though, beaten up squirrels are also eye-catching. “But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our next tribute!” she continued, putting one hand to the second bowl.

Her fingertips grab the first slip it encounters. I hoped it wasn't Gale or Katniss. I didn't want to kill them, not that I'd ever stand a chance.

Katniss was extremely skilled with the bow, she could probably shoot my head from miles away. Gale, on the other hand, was strong, compared to him, I had the strength of a broken twig.

"Peeta Mellark," She read. Oh no. Why him? Of all the people in this district. His father just "introduced" me to him this morning, not just that, I knew him.

I watched him make his way up the stage, I had a clear look at him this time. He had a stocky build, medium height,  ashy blonde hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the situation registered on his face, though you could tell that he was alarmed by the way his blue eyes looked.

Like a prey knowing it'd be hunted.

Despite this, he still manages to climb up the small flight of stairs calmly.

Effie Trinket then asked for volunteers, but no one spoke up. He has two older brothers, I've seen them. But one is probably too old to volunteer, and the other just wouldn't. This was standard family devotion, what I'd done was a radical thing.

The mayor began to say the same old words he always says every reaping day. I couldn't help but think, why him?

I remember it all too well, that day, it was raining up a storm, the wind was howling. My mother and my brother were left at home, I was tasked to find food for us since my mother couldn't bear to show her face to the district.

How could she? Her husband has been executed for rebellion against the Capitol. One of the peacekeepers found weapons under his possession and he was killed. He managed to convince them to spare us, though sometimes I wished it hadn't worked.

Within a week of his death, we began to lose money, and therefore, food. Nobody wanted to help us, nobody wanted to associate with the family of a tyrant.

Shame, the family name bared shame. My mother didn't have the gall to go out and sell any of my father's things, my brother was too young to even understand what was going on.

I was angry. How could they have just taken everything away from us that easy? Who gave them the right to do that?

But at that moment, I couldn't afford to sit still and wallow in my resentment. That was a luxury I couldn't afford. not many could afford it either.

Starvation was a fairly common thing in district 12, though the amount of covering up the peacekeepers do no one a favour and fools no one.

There I was, a boy who wasn't even old enough to be registered into the pile walking around in the harsh weather, stripped away from my dignity and whatever money we had.

I found myself in the Mellark's bakery, being told off by the baker's wife, who was tired of having brats from the Seam paw through her trash. I would've screamed back then, but I didn't want the Peacekeepers called on me.

So I left without another word, sitting at a tree for some sort of cover from the harsh rain.  I remember the snorts of the pigs beside me, and that was when I realized I'm no better than cattle; the people of Panim were no better than cattle.

My knees buckles as I collapsed onto the wet grass, shuddering from the cold and the harsh reality. Maybe I had gone insane then, but I vaguely remember talking to the pigs, ranting to them.

They didn't listen, they were too busy rolling in the mud. Looking back, I find this extremely funny, but maybe that's because I don't want to pity myself.

I didn't even notice a boy until the pigs actually rose to eat the pieces of bread thrown at them. I stared at him for a long while, mainly because of the burnt bread, the crust was scorched black.

But a red mark on his cheekbone caught my attention. Had they hit him for burning the bread? My parents have never hit me, I couldn't even imagine what that would feel like.

He took one look at the bakery as if checking if the coast was clear before he turned back to the pigs. Though instead of feeding the pigs he tossed the loaves of bread to me.

I watched him walk towards the bakery and closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. All I could do was stay silent, before shoving them up to my shirt, muttering a broken thank you as I ran home.

The loaves had cooled by the time I got home, but that didn't matter. We had something to eat. Mother looked at me, relieved I didn't die. She hugged me, apologizing.

I didn't care though, we had food, that's what's important.

And for the first time in weeks, we had a proper meal.

I was thankful, the fact that he'd probably burnt the bread on purpose never occurred to me until I crawled onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. An act of kindness, someone still cared.

It was as if spring came overnight, fluffy clouds, blue sky, the warm sweet air. At school, we would always catch each other's gazes. I felt a tad bit bad, his cheek was swollen and his eye had blackened.

I couldn't come up to say thank you, instead, I watched him from a distance, contemplating whether I should. When I went to fetch Nal, out eyes met once more, I was about to mouth a thank you until Nal tugged my shirt.

He handed me a dandelion. He's always loved flowers. His love for it made me realize how I would get the food we needed. All that time I and my father spent in the forest won't be for nothing.

To this day, I still feel as if I owe my family's life to him. I had honestly given up, but he gave me something. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread and the dandelion, both gave me hope.

Maybe if I had said thank you all those years ago I wouldn't be feeling so guilty now. I could always say it but something about thanking him whilst I'm practically holding a knife against his throat seems dishonest.

The mayor finished his speech, telling us to shake hands. His were as warm and firm as those loaves of bread. He squeezed me as if reassuring me. Or maybe those were just nervous spasms.

We turn back to the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.

There are twenty-four of us fighting in that arena, as grim as it is, let's just hope someone kills him before I'm forced to. I don't wanna kill the reason I've survived all those years.

Word count: 2026

Tags:

@nin3s

Sorry for the late update my exams are next week and im rushing to finish my requirements at school. :"

[wastelandnarry]

Georgia - hes

summary: He never should of told her, never should’ve let her see inside at what was troubling his mind. Now he’s singing Georgia on his mind. 

author’s notes: inspired by Georgia - Vance Joy. I have wanted to write something with this song for the longest time and I thought it matched a Harry scenario perfectly! I hope you guys enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of food, breakup, angst. 

masterlist || request ||  join my taglist

Harry watched her from the window as she walked through the crowd. His eyes had caught hers once or twice during the night already and he was convinced that he'd lose his mind if it happened again. The party had been a distraction for him, a way to get his mind off of the stress of his upcoming film and maybe even just to let loose for the first time in months. He'd been nursing the drink in his hand, the soft pink liquid in the glass swirling with whatever edible glitter that had been added in. If he was being honest, he'd only grabbed the drink after having watched her grab one for herself and smile to herself when she took a sip. She was electric, the people around her hanging onto every word that left her, something Harry watched from a distance, hoping that eventually the courage would kick in and he'd be able to walk over to her.

She was, after all, his ex-girlfriend. 

Georgia had come into Harry's life all at once and he wasn't too sure how he'd managed to convince her to date him. She was kind and bold, always knowing when to reassure him on the days when his confidence was low. She was giving and had a laugh that Harry could listen to on repeat if it was ever possible. Georgia was something to behold and Harry had somehow managed to be loved by her. Their whirlwind of a relationship had started one night after they'd run into each other for the fifth time at the coffee shop near Harry's studio. He'd been up for an ungodly amount of hours and needed a caffeine kick. He was convinced that he looked more like a mummy than an actual human and just his luck, Georgia had been sitting in her usual seat. 

She'd been typing away on her laptop with the steaming mug of a vanilla latte, the one Harry learned she always got, cooling off next to her. Her eyes had been focused on the screen in front of her, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as Harry thanked his luck that she hadn't spotted how out of it he looked that day. That was until the barista called his name out and her eyes shot up, meeting his in the loud and bustling shop. Her kind smile, the one that Harry would remember long after their occasional run-in, had left Harry breathless as he rushed over to grab his drink. 

"Early morning?" her voice, which Harry decided was the best thing he'd heard all morning, said as she walked past him when she walked past him to throw away the banana peel she'd been holding onto, "You don't usually pop in until much later."

"Oh, so you've noticed me?" Harry asked and chuckled, trying his best to mask his embarrassment as he pulled down the hoodie that had been covering the unruly curls on his head. 

"Hard not to, considering everyone in this place goes quiet the second you walk in here. Which I should thank you for, gives me a moment of peace and clarity," she nodded and chuckled, "Georgia, it's nice to meet you,"

"Harry,"

"Yeah, I assumed."

Waking up most days, the sun was barely peeking out behind the clouds and Harry had always felt the pull his bed gave him. If he didn't rub his eyes and stretched out his back, he could almost hear the mattress whispering, "come back to bed, Harry," which was all he wanted to do. But he was an adult and his latest movie project had called for some very early morning call times. So there Harry was, waking up before the sun even made it's presence known to the world, sliding on some comfy joggers and his favorite hoodie to shield him from the morning cold. 

"Bub," Georgia's tired voice whined out from his bed, "Too early, don't go."

"I'm sorry, bug, I've got to head out soon, shooting early today and tomorrow," Harry sighed, looking over at the lump in the blankets that was his girlfriend, "Go back to bed, yeah?"

"Wanna kiss," she yawned and peeked out from the blankets, her tired eyes meeting Harry's in the dim-lit room. 

Harry smiled, his feet padding against the wood floors as he made his way over to her side of the bed. Harry had asked her if she'd wanted to move in a few weeks before, which had resulted in Harry's place being filled with pieces of her and him mixed in with one another. His hand found a spot on her hip, rubbing a pattern onto the exposed skin as he leaned down to press a kiss onto her lips. He knew it was dangerous. The kisses shared between the two of them usually ended with moans and whimpers being let out into the room and Harry really couldn't afford to be late to filming. But Georgia's soft lips on his pulled him closer into her, and the bed, and he found himself with that same pulling feeling his mattress would give him back when he was alone. 

"Have fun today, yeah?" Georgia breathed out, her forehead resting against Harry's as they both took in one last moment together. 

The drive to the set, which was usually when Harry drove in silence and tried to get into character, was filled with soft music. Harry's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he hummed along to the playlist his phone had been playing for the past couple of weeks, a mix of his favorites, Georgia's favorites, and songs that reminded them of one another. Harry had been stopped at a red light when a song he'd picked for the playlist started playing, his smile growing as he heard the opening strums of the guitar. 

"...I could easily lose my mind, the way you kiss me will work each time, calling me to come back to bed singing Georgia on my mind..."

Walking back through the front door, something Harry had done more times than he could count, after his tiring day at the studio, he hadn't expected to be met with Georgia dancing around the living room. Music floated through the house; one of Georgia's favorite things about his place, which she'd told him late one night in bed, was how great the acoustics were and how the music just sounded better. Harry watched as her she danced along to the beat of her favorite song, one which had been on repeat for the past two weeks. His heart swelled and his tired body seemed to spring to life as he watched Georgia turn and face him, her eyes wide and filled with innocence at behind caught lost in a moment.

“Harry!” she said excitedly and rushed over to pull him into a tight hug, one that Harry happily returned, “How was it?”

“Was okay, darling, not as entertaining as that dance though,” he teased, his lips finding her forehead, “What a nice show to walk into.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” she mumbled and rolled her eyes, “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Dinner has been filling, the wine shared between Harry and Georgia making them both warm and fuzzy. They’d cleaned up, humming along to the song that was playing from the living room, and before they knew it they were both laying on the couch taking one another in. Harry had found comfort between Georgia’s thighs, his body slotting in between hers as if they were made to be, his lips exploring the softness of her own. Harry could’ve kissed her for the rest of his life if he tried, he might’ve already been doing that. He always seemed to lose track of time whenever Georgia was in his arms and her lips were on his. The wine certainly hadn’t helped, their movements clumsy and slow as the took each other in and explored their bodies together. It wasn’t until he felt Georgia’s hips push up against his, both of them letting out a groan, that he slowly pulled away. His eyes opened to find a view that had been so heavenly to him in the past couple of months since their relationship had started.

“What is it…?” Georgia asked, her chest rising and falling with the panty breathes she was taking.

“You just…you’re breathtaking,” he whispered, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face, “I don’t deserve your love,” he mumbled.

Underneath him, Georgia was the definition of breathtaking. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated, taking over him and leaving Harry with goosebumps on his skin, almost as if she was touching him all over and yet not at all. Her lips, which Harry has been attacking not too long ago, were plush and pink, a sheen of their shared spit still covering them. Her hair had been tousled and no longer framed her face while she laid on the couch, it was poking out in different directions and she might’ve called it horrendous at that angle but Harry loved it. He loved everything about Georgia, she was the one who could make him lose his mind.

“Oh please,” Georgia laughed and shook her head, turning to press a soft kiss into Harry’s palm, “I could never and would never want to love anyone else, Harry.”

“Yeah?” he whispered, fear flashing across his face for just a second before it was gone without a trace at the feel of Georgia’s lips on his again, “I love you, bug.”

“I love you more.”

Georgia was leaving. Her business trip would take her away for almost a week, leaving Harry with a pain in his chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he’d try to push it. He walked her through the train station, holding her bag tightly in his hand as they strolled hand in hand towards the platform. Harry’s heart raced as he felt her lips on his for the last time in a while, his throat aching as he watched her board the train and walked out of view until she found a seat near the window where she could wave goodbye. He wasn’t used to this, being the one who would wave off their lover, he was always the one who was leaving. But as the train screeched and sped off, leaving Harry alone on the platform staring at the brick wall ahead of him, he couldn’t believe Georgia had done this for him countless times.

He’s gone back home alone, the passenger seat next to him feeling cold and he found himself pouting when his hand was met with the feel of leather instead of the softness of Georgia’s thigh. He’d stayed by the phone most of the evening, watching for any updates that she might send on her journey to a city far away from Harry. He had no idea how she did this every time Harry had to leave for a tour or for a movie project, she’d only been gone for a few hours and he’d found himself walking aimlessly around the house, waiting for a sign that she was okay. It was horrible, the waiting and the anxiousness that came with it all.

By the fourth day, Harry had realized just how much he’d taken Georgia for granted. He missed her like crazy. He missed the way she always curled up next to him in bed, how her hand always found his in the middle of the night and gave it a squeeze to show him she was still there beside him. He missed her soft voice and how it sounded while she was on a work call and Harry was in his office or reading through a script. He missed the way her arms would wrap around him and how she would hide her face in his chest, leaving kisses on his skin until he laughed and peppered her skin with kisses. By the fourth day of Georgia being gone, he realized just how hard it must’ve been to be with him.

On the fifth day, Harry had called her after one too many drinks and told her how he felt. His slurred voice rambled on about how he never realized how unfair he has been to her and how she deserved a better relationship. He told her all about how he’d felt since she been gone and how he couldn’t imagine feeling like this every other month. He’d rambled on for minutes on end, his drunken truths interrupted only by the sniffles he’d get caught up in before returning to his original point. The one that Georgia had been trying to figure out for the past hours since he’s hung up the phone. The one that had left her in her hotel room, wiping away the tears Harry had brought on.

“I’m not good enough for you,” he’d choked out, “I leave and disappear for weeks on end and you just…you just wait for me to get back. Do you wait with the same hole in your chest that I have? Because I’d never wish this on anyone, bug, it’s horrendous.”

It had all happened too fast, the rambling and the tears and hit Georgia’s ears before she even had time to think of a response. It felt like seconds had passed since she’s answered the call, excited to tell Harry all about her advent ours day in a city she’d never been to, only to have her heartbroken. Then, as if some cruel joke was being played on her, time slowed down. Every ring to Harry’s dragged on and on until his voicemail message was heard and the line went dead. She’d spent the rest of her night listening to the droning sound, hoping that eventually Harry would answer and she could calm him down, show him the truth, and tell him that she loved him. But the phone was never picked up and the pit in Georgia’s stomach was filled with anxiety.

Arriving back at the platform where she had last seen Harry, her eyes searched the massive crowd of people, her nerves rose as she walked out of the station alone. Her cab ride back home had been silent, her fingers playing with the necklace around her neck nervously as she watched the familiar streets pass by her window, hoping that when she got home she’d be met with the sight of her lover. It had been two days since the call with Harry. Two days since she’d heard from him or even got a text back from him. She was used to the silence, it was something that happened sometimes when Harry’s job became bust and chaotic and he lost himself in it all. But this time around things were different and Harry had been promised at least a couple of weeks off to relax and regain who he was. He was meant to be at home with the people he loved.

Georgia was met with an empty house, the sound of her bag hitting the floor echoing throughout the large rooms. She’d walked through the whole place, calling our Harry’s name only to be met with more silence. It wasn’t until she walked into the bedroom and saw the small card on her pillow that the fear in her truly rose. She must’ve sat on the bed and read through the damn note a thousand times, her body too in shock to move and too anxious to accept that he was gone.

“It’s better this way, bug. You deserve someone who can truly love you the way you are meant to be loved. All I do is cause you pain, I’m barely here for you and I couldn’t even handle less than a week without you. I’m sorry, I wish things could’ve ended differently. I will always have you on my mind, Georgia. Love Always, Harry.”

Harry’s voicemail message, one Georgia had gotten to memorize by the number of times she’d had to listen to it, hit her hears again. Her hands curled around the note, wrinkling it and ripping the paper on one side. Her tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to steady her voice, her mind running a million miles an hour as she tried her best to keep down a sob.

“You left…y-you just left and didn’t even say goodbye to me. You didn’t even give me a good reason, Harry.” she sniffed, her eyes looking around the room that was filled with them both, “I knew what I was getting myself into when we started this. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy and there would be times where I wouldn’t see you for weeks on end. But I also knew that you were everything I wanted.”

Georgia had been warned about Harry when they first started seeing each other. She was told all the rumors about him and plenty of people had tried to scare her away from him and his world. But she knew there was more to him than just a pop star sensation, more to him than the act he put on both off-screen and on. He was kind and gentle and so caring. He was ambitious and inspirational, always wanting the best for himself and those he surrounded himself with. Harry was nothing like what the media portrayed and that had made Georgia fight for them to work.

“I know what your job is like, I knew from the beginning and I stayed, Harry. I stayed because I love you and I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted,” she whispered and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her sweater, “So please just…just call me back and we can fix this, yeah? I love you,” she sighed and hesitated for a few seconds before hanging up.

Harry, from his hotel room just a few blocks away, listened to the voicemail for hours before his eyes finally closed and he drifted off to sleep.

And then she ran into her at that damn party.

In the short span of the party, Harry had somehow managed to grab her attention and after another sip of the pink drink, they both found themselves walking off to the garden. She’d walked out first, her eyes meeting his while she passed by, almost as if giving Harry a sign to follow her. He’d taken one last sip of his drink, setting the cup down before he followed after her. She looked beautiful in the soft light of the garden, but then again, she always looked beautiful. It wasn’t until Harry’s eyes met hers, which were dull in comparison to the usual emotions they’d held before, that he realized just how much he had missed her presence.

“How have you been?” Harry asked, breaking the silence between them and instantly hating how her shoulders and jaw tensed, “I…I’m sorry about…”

“About leaving me with just a note and a shitty explanation?” Georgia asked, her eyes staring into Harry’s with a new emotion, anger.

“Georgia I…” Harry started, the lump in his throat growing as she shook her head and sighed.

“No, you had your chance to talk,” she frowned, “You has your chance to talk and call or even just text me, and did you? No! All you did was ignore me for four months and now you won’t stop staring at me at this party and it’s just…”

“I love you,” he blurted out, his eyes wide as he waited for her reaction, “I know I messed up but I love you and I haven’t stopped loving you since you spilled chocolate syrup on me during our first sleepover.”

“You can’t just show up after months and expect me to forgive you. You broke my heart, Harry! You left me and I couldn’t even stop you,” she whispered shakily, her eyes meeting his in the moonlight, “I just…I miss you so much and I should hate you. I should hate your guys but I just can’t.”

They talked more after that, both of them too tired from the stress and heartbreak of the past months to put up much of a fight. They talked until the moon was disappearing on the horizon and the music behind them both dimmed until it was just Harry and Georgia's voice floating up into the sky. They talked about everything, the insecurities they’d both had, the challenging parts of their relationship, and even the terrifying parts. They both moved closer to one another as the night went on, leaning into the warmth they both gave off until they had said everything they needed to say.

“Please just…can we try again?” Harry whispered as his hand found Georgia’s, his eyes meeting hers with a pleasing look, “I want to work this out with you, I want us to work.”

“I never wanted you to leave in the first place, Harry,” Georgia whispered, her forehead leaning against his as they both felt a pressure lift off their shoulders. Both finally feeling a little more like themselves for the first time in months.

Harry's personal life changed a lot after that party. He continued to throw himself into his work, leaving his studio from late nights recording and rushing on to the set of his latest movie project. Starring in movies had always been a dream for Harry, he got to immerse himself into a world and a life he'd never lived. It was so surreal whenever he walked on stage in his costume, it all felt like a dream. But his latest dreams in life include a certain someone by his side. They included Georgia, whose warmth and kindness brought Harry a bigger thrill than any of his projects ever could. The months apart had left both of them searching for one another in an ocean of regrets and words unspoken until that night at the party.

It was hard work, especially when he was writing and recording in whatever spare time he had on days after he was done filming, making time for his relationship with the love of his life was something he’d never take for granted again. He’d move planets for Georgia and he knew that she’d do the same for him. And maybe, just maybe, the ring that had been hiding in Harry’s bag would make an appearance in the coming months, to show his lover that he would always sing with Georgia on his mind.

taglist: @hrrypinks​ @matchacal

[rogueginnever]

Starve for the Role

Triggers: eating disorders

Not my gif

Tom is away filming, and has been for a few months. Without him here I start to get into bad habits. I go on runs and work out until I throw up with little I have in my system. My diet is water and to keep me alive a banana every other day.

Haz is coming over today. Tom didn't want me to be alone all the time so he has Haz check up on me every once in a while.

I scroll through my phone to see the hate comments Tom's fans send me everyday nonstop. I hear a knock on the door. I get up from the couch and go open the door to see Haz smiling without a care in the world. He walks in and gives me a hug.

"How have you been Y/n?" He asks walking farther into the house, I close the door.

"I've been ok." I say blankly. I walk to the living room. Him and I chatted for a while.

"Hey, can I stay here for the night?" He asks me out of the blue.

"Of course, is something wrong with your place?"

"No, I just get lonely by myself." He says looking at the floor. "So what is chef Haz cooking tonight?" He says excitedly, hopping out of his chair and walking to the kitchen.

"Oh no Haz that's not really necessary." But before I can finish my sentence he opens the fridge. He sees nothing but a few bottles of water. He goes to the pantry to find hardly anything. He turns to me and gives me a weird look. "I really only eat takeout when Tom's not here." He looks at the trash can to see only two banana peels. "I just took out the trash." He looks at me and then calls for a pizza.

The pizza gets here. Now I have to eat. Haz watches me take bits of my pizza until it's gone.

"Well I'm gonna go to bed, it's almost 10 goodnight." I go upstairs to Tom and I's bedroom, knowing that Has knows where the guest room is. I lay down and try to get some rest hoping that the piece of pizza doesn't affect my hard work at trying to lose weight. Then I feel nauseous, run to the bathroom connected to the room and throw up. As the throw up slows I start to cry. Why me? I think to myself. Why do I have to look the way I look?

The next morning I got up really early to go on a run. I get back and I see Haz talking to someone in the kitchen. The person he is talking to has his back towards me.

"Haz if you're going to have people over let me clean the house first." I say taking off my shoes. I look at the person who has now turned to face me and I see Tom. "Oh my God, Babe what are you doing here?" I say smiling and going up to hug him.

“I missed my girl.” he says, my phone starts ringing. I pick it up and hold it to my ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked my agent on the phone.

“Have you lost the weight for the part or am I calling them and telling them you don’t fit the requirements for the job?” he asks me with a stone cold voice. I walk away from the guys and go to the living room.

“I have three more pounds.” I informed him.

“I’m calling it off then, unless you can get those three pounds off in four day.” he says.

“No!” I look back realizing how loud that was. “No, I can get it down by then ok.”

“You better, I don’t want to be made a fool in front of good directors.” he says then the line cuts.

“Who was that Darling?” Tom asks from the kitchen.

“Just my agent sweetheart.” I say as I put my phone on the coffee table and walk back to the kitchen.

“Well I got to go home, bye guys.” Haz says before doing his bro hug thing with Tom and then hugging me. He leaves and Tom picks me up bridal style and sets me on the couch. I sit up and he sits on the coffee table in front of me.

“We have to talk.” my used to be smile fades. “I know you haven’t been eating.” he says looking in my eyes, but I look down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” my voice coming out gagid.

“I’m not mad, but I need you to look at me.” he says, lifting my head with his index finger. “Why?”

“I have to.” I said, tears threatening to drop from my eyes.

“No you don’t.” he whispers.

“Yes I do. I have to get this role or my agent is going to call off my audition. He told me I had to lose weight to get the part, so that’s what I’m doing. Plus with all the comments online I can’t take not doing anything about my weight.” I rambled until I realized I put too much on him and started to cry. He pulls me into his arms and lets me cry into his chest. He stands up carrying me to our room. He lays me down and puts the covers over me, he comes to his side of the bed and gets under the covers pulling me back into his embrace. Once I calmed down he spoke.

“Here is what we are going to do. We are gonna go shopping for some groceries and make a bunch of desserts like cake and brownies and feast on those. We are gonna get ice cream and eat it until we get tired. Tomorrow we are gonna call your agent and fire him, I can see if you can get a spot at my agency.” he tells me looking into my red puffy eyes. I just nod my head. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “You are fucking beautiful. Stunning. The fact that anyone could say anything different sickens me. Those are lies. You are god damn goddess of beauty.” he says, making me smirk a little. He hugs me one more time before we go to the store and go along with his plan. Of course it took time to grow your stomach back to shape, but it was worth the time and patience to Tom. We decided that we should both go back to filming his movie instead of me being alone in this big house. Letting Haz have a key to the house to feed Tessa.

[queenquinzel715]

~Floki~

           I was walking towards the great hall for the celebration of a great raid. The men just got back from a long year and a half raid in England. As I walked inside people were already drunk, and the thralls were walking around for men. I smiled as I walked to the table grabbing some bread. I looked around at all the people having fun, but I didn't see one smiley man anywhere. I've been looking for him all day since the men docked, but since Ragnar was gone I thought they were together. A slave gives me a cup of mead as I walk to Lagertha. 

           We've been friends since we were children. That's how I met Floki, it was when Ragnar and Lagertha had just started dating, and Ragnar came around one day with Floki. Floki really ignored me for a while, and just paid attention to craving. It wasn't until I showed him a way to do a ancient carving, I learned from my grandmother, that he actually started to notice me. I was too occupied with my thoughts when Lagertha waved a hand in front of my face. 

"Sorry. What was that?" I ask

She laughs. "Floki is coming." She points toward the door. 

             Ragnar and Floki are walking through the crowd, and Lagertha nudges me. Her and Ragnar had always wanted me and Floki to marry, but he was a free spirit. One day I wish he would marry me, but I don't think he ever will. 

"Hello ladies" Ragnar greets us as he kisses Lagertha.

"Hello Ragnar." I smile up at him.

I turn to Floki. "Hi Floki" 

"(Y/n)" He giggles. 

        We all start drinking, eating the feast, and Floki lays his head on my lap as we relax.

"So Floki.." Ragnar starts, but stops to drink. "When will you actually marry this beautiful woman? You know I've had a couple men asking about her." Ragnar smirks. 

       Floki grunts, throwing back his drink as he walks away with an angry scowl. I frown turning to Ragnar.

"Why must you anger him?" 

"Because he needs to learn what you deserve. He's just keeping you in his presence, but not in his hands." he snaps.

          Ragnar has always been like an older brother, but I can't force someone to marry me. I followed the way Floki went, but I couldn't find him. I walked around hoping to find him, but I gave up. I walked into my house to see a bag on the table. I open the beg to see a gold cup, plates, coins, and a knife. As I put the knife down I see something move to my left. I tightly grip the knife as I turn to see Floki. 

"I thought you would like those. I had this in there, but I.." He stammered walking to me. "I know we've been together for a long time, but will you be my wife?" He giggles holding up a ring with a big red stone on a gold band. 

"Are you sure, Floki?" I ask. "I mean, I know you don't want to actually marry me."

"I have realized Ragnar and Lagertha have been right all these years. You've been here when I come home, you help with the boats, and I can't help but smile when I think of you." He giggles.

"Yes Floki" I kissed him hard. 

~a week after~

            Today I finally get married, but I didn't think I'd be this nervous. Lagertha was helping me get ready, and kept telling me how beautiful I looked or how everything is okay. I couldn't stop the smile on my face. I had my white lace dress with sleeves that made me feel like a goddess, and Lagertha had a flower crown made for me. My hair was braided with pieces of flowers in them, and it was time to get married. Lagertha said Floki is losing his mind with worrying I wasn't going to show up. We laughed as we walked through the woods. I saw Ragnar smirking as we walked up, and Lagertha was walking me down the aisle.

"Thank the Gods you showed up." He chuckles. "He's been walking in circles all morning." 

            Everyone stops talking as we get ready, and I could see Floki looking through the crowd. As we walked toward him I couldn't stop myself from giggling at Floki's expression, he had this awe confused look. 

"You look like a Goddess" He gasps at me. 

"Thank you my husband." I smile. 

We say our vows, the blood rings, and Floki almost had to be pulled off of me when he was told to kiss his bride.