#me when i cry about my friends being far away then realize i can visit them in fun locations with the $$ i have from living in a cheap state

[gideonisms]

The thing is I DO work late where I'm free from the phone and the job DOES get done and I DO take my whiskey neat my coffee black and my bed at 3. Now if he added a verse about receiving smutty art in his DMs from friends who live in various far flung locations we would really be the same person

[nr1chaedickrider]

???

i got this idea MONTHS ago, i got finally motivation to continue this small drabble, read on your own risk, toxic!namochaeng (chae is kinda the nice one in this?), innocent!reader, idk if what happens here is 100% consentual, thigh riding, exhibitionism,use of drugs (im not an expert on this topic so dont cry if this is unrealistic) stay away from drugs pookies and also maybe this is the only time ill write something like this idk idk! im experimenting with my writing style

It was stupid, it is stupid.

Maybe you're just stupid for listening to Chaeyoung when she said "Come visit us in our apartment, I got something we can use. Unless you're scared."

And actually, the goal was just to make new friends at the university, but you didn't think you'd be standing in front of the door of an apartment that's quite far away from the university. A pungent smell hits your nose and you frown. Should you really be here? Was it really a good idea to be standing in front of an old apartment at 11 pm where three women you hardly know live?

But you can no longer think about it as Nayeon opens the door for you, a grin on her lips.

She yells through the apartment,

"Chaeyoung! She really came!" Nayeon lets out a giggle, the only thing you can make out is Momo in the background, you think that's her name, giving Chaeyoung $20.

"We made a bet, looks like she's about $40 richer now," Nayeon says, pulling you inside before slamming the door. She runs to Chaeyoung and gives her $20 too, you think you've never seen her so happy.

"Do you want to join us too? Or would you rather stand there?" she says and laughs, Momo laughs too, Nayeon takes a sip from her beer. You shake your head and walk over to Chaeyoung and sit down on the floor. Now it really hits you.

A joint, four lines of cocaine, and a few cans of beer are on the table.

"Oh," is your only reaction as you stare at the substances.

"I'm Momo, we're not in the same class but I study sports," she says, an actually nice smile on her lips.

"You already know Nayeon, you two have English together right?" Chaeyoung asks, you nod and Nayeon immediately starts laughing out loud.

"Don't be shy dear..." she holds the joint to her lips and slowly takes a drag, she exhales and a small cloud of smoke forms. She looks at you and holds the joint out for you to take a drag.

"Ehm... I-"

"Are you telling me you've never smoked a joint before?" Chaeyoung asks as she looks at you both, Momo just quietly sips her beer. You nod and look at the floor, Chaeyoung laughs a little, but then pulls you onto her lap and takes the joint.

"I can show you," she says, and at that moment it feels like she's the normal nice girl from your art class who you might have a little crush on. You nod.

"I'm going to take a drag and blow the smoke towards you, you inhale it, okay?" You nod again.

You watch as her plump lips touch the joint, she takes a puff, and as announced, she blows it towards you, you inhale it and cough, Nayeon pats your back to help, Momo comes closer.

Only now do you realize what the situation is actually like, you on Chaeyoung's lap, on her bare legs because she's only wearing shorts, Nayeon so close to your right, Momo to your left. You feel yourself blush and everyone starts laughing at the sight of you being so confused.

"Try it yourself now..." Chaeyoung says and hands you the joint, you look at her, then at the small joint between your fingers.

"I don't know..." you say and look away, Nayeon grabs your chin, but somehow so gently. She lifts it up so that you're forced to look atleast to one of them. Your eyes fall on Chaeyoung. Nayeon comes closer and whispers in your ear,

"You don't want to let us down, do you? We're your friends." she whispers, but loud enough for Momo and Chaeyoung to hear, both grinning and nodding.

"She's right, we don't want anything bad for you, a little fun never hurt anyone" Momo says, you look to the cocaine on the coffee table.

"What about this...?" you ask, Chaeyoung laughs.

"I don't know if we'll get to that today" she says, you nod slowly.

You take the joint between your fingers and bring it to your lips, slowly taking a drag, your eyes water slightly and you have to start coughing as little puffs of smoke come out. Nayeon caresses your back, Chaeyoung your thighs, her cold hands on your warm body sends a shiver down your spine.

"Well done," she says, you feel yourself getting a little dizzy, but you try to ignore it.

"See, it wasn't that hard," says Momo, taking the joint out of your hand as she takes the last puff.

You suddenly feel a finger on your skirt, you look at Chaeyoung and see her smile, again the one she usually only showed in class when you were working together. You smile slightly too as you relax (you're not sure though if its because of the smoking or because you feel safe..),

Nayeon's hands are on your waist, she moves you back and forth on Chaeyoung's lap, you hold a hand in front of your mouth to keep your voice down, Momo starts kissing your neck, her lips moist and soft.

"Don't hide your moans, pretty girl.." Chaeyoung says, taking your hand away, she lets you hold it as she tenses up her thigh, adding extra stimulation.

Momo's hands move down to play with your tits through your thin shirt, your nipples getting hard immideatly, making Momo let out a breathy chuckle.

Nayeon keeps her attention to rocking your hips back and forth on Chaeyoung's thigh.

"You're doing so good" Chaeyoung says as she watches you, the praise making your head even fuzzier than it already is.

You feel your body going a little limp, hoping that is normal while smoking. You moan quietly while holding onto Chaeyoung's hand, your body twitching when your clit hits her thigh in a certain angle.

"Are you close baby?" Nayeon asks, you nod as your grip on Chaeyoung's hand gets tighter, making her giggle a little. Nayeon begins to move you faster, like a little toy with no ability to move on its own.

You bite your lower lip as your moans get louder and you feel yourself getting closer, Momo praising you as she pinches your nipple and kisses your neck, biting it a little to leave marks.

"I'm-" you start saying uncohorent things as you cum onto Chaeyoung's thigh. Twitching and gripping her hand until you slowly stop moving and fall down on her chest, passing out immideatly.

"We should've been friends earlier.." she says and the other girls agree with a smirk, looking at the untouched cocaine.

[echobx]

I feel like high school sweethearts jj maybank fic would be so cute if you need jj ideas

author's note: okay so,,, bc this is so close to the OC!fic I've been working on for over a year now, I'm gonna give you HCs also bc my brain isn't letting me write at the moment

you meet in detention, you're first time in detention, JJ's not so much. he knows his way around, how to sneak out especially and when he proposes the idea you decide to just do it, to follow him out.

from that day on he will always try and get you to move more out of your shell, be more poguey than you have been ever before.

he doesn't even realize that he's falling for you until a guy from the football team asks you out on a date.

JJ tries to convince you to not go, but he doesn't have a good enough reason, because surely being in love with you won't convince you to stay.

but the date goes well, and you don't know why you hate that it does. maybe you would've liked it more if it went horribly.

JJ introduces you to the Crew after knowing you for just a month, and they all welcome you with open arms.

so when you come almost crying to Kiara about how weird everything feels, and she has a hard time to not laugh in your face for how oblivious you are, it all starts to dawn on you.

but risking your friendship with JJ? you aren't sure if it's worth it.

and when John B dares him to kiss you in a game of Truth or Dare, he can't find a good answer to not do it, and you can't either.

when you officially start dating, nothing changes much. sure you go out with him, and your alone time is now split into friends stuff and making out, but other than that it's the same.

you have a few rough patches, especially while in school because people start to make up rumors of JJ cheating on you, and even though you know he would never, it still gnawes on your ego.

college is better that way, although the distance doesn't feel so good either. but you get through it with weekend visits or fully focusing only on JJ when you are on break and can go back home.

and at your graduation dinner, JJ finally decides to propose, not having wanted to pull your focus away from studying if he had done it earlier, he says.

of course you say yes, he's the love of your life after all.

the ceremony is rather small, just your family and friends, at the beach.

and when you find yourself pregnant JJ takes care of everything, even going so far to be the stay at home dad for the first two years, and then the next two because two kids are better than one.

he does everything in his power to let you have the family and the carrier you always wanted.

and there isn't a single day that you ever regretted skipping detention with him.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

[pixiecactus]

so when talking about gendrya, many people get the assumption that both of them are loners that simply attracted each others company, which is not true at all, arya stark is truly the socially inclined one of all of the starks. she is a charismatic little girl that cares deeply for others, no matter their social standing, if you're good to her and the people she cares about, she will be good in return to you and care for you fiercely and that's one of the things that make her so special to me. now gendry, yeah, he's a loner true and through, i love that he simply does not have patience for anyone trying to bother him (ex. by talking to him) we, of course don't know much of how gendry's life was prior to ned's visit in agot. what we do know is that his mother died when he was very young, so he can barely remember her, we don't know how much time he spend as an orphan child surviving alone in flea bottom before varys paid tobho mott for his apprenticeship, but we can assume by a comment tobho made, that the other apprentices mocked/bullied him, so he didn't seem to have any friend before arya.

(i'm going to talk only about their acok interactions, because i swear i tried to summarize their entire friendship until the end of it, but the formating choice i made was starting to get old and just the idea of going through asos for this post is turning my brain into mush, sorry. and yeah this post is really long and if i don't post it now i never will)

so yeah, that's why is so important to me that gendry the introvert loner was the first one to pay attention and talk to arya the extrovert social butterfly. so here's a summary of gendry's actions through acok, because is wonderful to see him going from being a loner child who seemed to hate everyone to... still a loner child that seemed to hate everyone except for arya, who is his only friend.

gendry paying attention to a small child being bullied, instead of minding his own bussines.

gendry noticing that the small child can hold their own against the two bullies, which it is impressive, but he still wants to help them, and starts shouting their opponents's next moves as a warning.

gendry observing that arry, which is the small child name, seems to have a penchant for putting himself in dangerous situations, like talking to and bothering three chained criminals, gendry trying to interfere and get the small child away from them.

gendry entertaining arry's wish to fight him.

gendry realizing that the gold cloaks are after him, but what is even weirder, it's little arry thinking they are actually looking for him.

gendry accepting half of a rabbit's leg to eat, because arry decided to share his food with him.

gendry watching arry taking care and doing his best to be nurturing to an orphaned little girl... could be arry a girl all of this time?

gendry founding himself in a group, with arry, the two boys who bullied her (she's a girl, alright) and the orphaned toddler who is never far from arry at all.

gendry hearing yoren telling him to escape with the other children, founding themselves surrounded in flames. gendry seeing hot pie and lommy, but there's nowhere to find arry and the toddler clinging to her leg.

gendry deciding right there that he will be going back to find arry.

gendry finding the both of them soon enough, he takes the crying girl away from arry's small figure and tells her to run, please.

gendry ignoring the chained criminals calling for help. he needs to get arry and the little girl to safety soon.

gendry watching baffled how arry puts herself in danger to free the criminals from their cage before the flames consume them.

gendry being left with no other option than escape with the crying girl, who is clinging to him and with not arry at all.

gendry carrying lommy greenhands, since the boy took a spear through the leg and can no longer limp and gendry getting tired of listening to hot pie and lommy's voices.

gendry deciding than when he has to go looking for food with arry, it's a good time to offer her the chance to escape the both of them, alone.

gendry trying his best to convince arry to abandon the rest of their group, it's plain to see that the both of them are the only ones with better chances at surviving. and having a little girl crying all the time it's starting to get in his nerves.

gendry telling arry that he knows she's a girl.

gendry taking the piss out of arry for trying to deny she's a girl. gendry deciding that he's going to continue mocking arry for the cock she does not have.

gendry wanting to know more about arry, starting with her real name. she must have a girl's name, right?

gendry swearing to protect this girl's secret, his first friend, as his own.

gendry wanting to die when realizing that little arry, actually is arya of house stark, a highborn lady.

gendry laughing when arya kicks him in an attempt to get him to stop to calling her "m'lady"

gendry getting caught by the mountain's men.

gendry knowing that arya and hot pie made it to harrenhal, but barely seeing them.

gendry reprimanding arya for being so careless as to scream "winterfell" and possibly revealing her identity to hot pie. gendry lying to hot pie to protect arya.

gendry recognizing that arya has shed the "arry" identity completely. gendry calling arya "girl" because harrenhal is not a safe place at all to call arya by her own name.

gendry picking fights with arya, when she comes with the initial plan to set up the fall of harrenhal, because it doesn't matter at all whose lord he's serving. gendry losing hope of ever leaving this damned place.

gendry refusing arya's plan to escape harrenhal. arya being sure he will accompany her anyway.

gendry not forgetting the swords that arya asked him for.

gendry following arya, once again, as they escape harrenhal.

[bomberqueen17]

Big Easy

I am on vacation this week in New Orleans. There are many reasons for this but mostly they're not about me. I'm just here for the ride. Hilariously the one thing I found on on my own that I was like "oh i gotta do that while we're here" is also the thing that has been recommended to me by literally everyone i've spoken to including the Lyft driver from the airport, which is the WWII Museum, and conversely the more people recommend it the more I'm like :/ I might not enjoy this that much. WWII history was a childhood hyperfixation of mine but I've found the shit I was into about it is not the stuff other people like about it. This museum features a movie narrated by Tom Hanks so I feel like it's going to mm emphasize the bits I don't care about a lot. BUT I am going to go and I am probably going to devote a whole day. The upside of this is that probably Dude will not be deadly bored by it. He does tend to have the issue of not being into what I'm into sometimes... but this will probably be fine.

My hip is doing okay, the one I've been physically therapizing for ages? But what's popped up is that as the bad hip heals, the "good" hip starts giving me trouble-- I have prettty bad sciatic nerve problems on that side, and I didn't notice them so much because the cartilage tear on the bad side hurt enough to distract me. But lately it's like-- a little electric current of Badness inside the back of my right knee. No fun. But I've been doing physical therapy exercises for about fifteen weeks now (I just counted), three times a week, so I'd damn well better have seen some improvement LOL.

But mostly I can walk around, and I have a better idea earlier on whether walking is going to be good for me or not, so idk it's progress.

So far I have had a few bites of a shrimp po'boy (in the Atlanta airport, where we ordered something else and the waitress didn't hear us and just brought better food, no regrets on our part), some amazing gumbo, a bit of really good crawfish etouffe, and a really good Hurricane cocktail, and have seen the steamboat Natchez going up the MIssissippi with a brass band playing on it. Oh yeah there was a live band at the baggage claim? Apparently there were Many Doings in the French Quarter last night because of Cinco de Mayo, our Lyft driver was explaining they'd barricaded a bunch of the streets and she was delighted they'd moved one barricade because otherwise she could not have dropped us at our hotel. But by the later evening when we were out and about it wasn't quite so crowded but there were police cars and sirens and apparently some kind of disturbance a couple blocks away from our hotel. We kept walking because whatever it was was Not Our Business.

I'm mostly here for the food. I brought mostly me-made clothes. I was wearing a nice button-up shirt to fly in, and i sat at the gate during our layover and hand-bound two of the last three buttonholes on it (I'd cut and overcasted them at home but ran out of time). Relaxing and chill, honestly.

There are a couple of fabric stores I want to visit but apart from that I have zero agenda. Maybe Dude came up with something. I think he's mostly been researching restaurants.

I did not expect this, though: I know the names of so many of the places here from the news coverage of Katrina, and when I saw the Superdome in person i started crying, and had to explain to the driver that I'd been an airport bartender during that time and so had been stuck in front of huge TVs with 24h live coverage, and I'd had a bunch of online friends living there and I didn't realize until this moment how much it scarred me, so I could only imagine for the people here, and she talked about how she'd been a cleaner in an apartment complex at the time (I'd sussed that she was my age or older so I figured she'd remember it as well as I do, because to my shock that was 20 years ago now) and how many people had just left and never come back, had abandoned their possessions and just never came back for them because the power didn't come back on for two or three months.

She said "Now I know, when they tell you to evacuate, you get the hell out."

She also complained that nobody knows how to act, because it's all tourists. Which, fair.

... Anyway, anyone with recs for New Orleans feel free to tell them to me, I'm just here for the food and the vibes.

[sournatromanoff]

favorite crime — elvis presley x reader

a/n: this is my first elvis fic, and i really hope y’all like it! i based this off of “favorite crime” by olivia rodrigo, if you wanna give it a listen while you read. I also imagined regular elvis half the time and austin’s elvis the other half, so imagine whomever you want, bb 😂

warnings: angst, cheesy use of lyrics as dialogue? let me know if i miss anything that you think i should put in the warnings.

word count: 1,244

It had been a year since Elvis came back from his service in Germany, and you had felt the rift in your relationship ever since. You had hoped that by setting up this dinner for the two of you, it could be fixed. But sitting in front of him now, you slowly began to realize that nothing can be mended with him. You watched as he grimaced at his gold watch, and your heart broke when you heard him speak.

“I have to pick up Priscilla from the airport. Could we have a rain check on this, darlin’?” You swallowed as you nodded, tears filling your eyes as he ran out to his car. You knew he had made friends overseas, especially Priscilla but you never thought he’d brush you off for her. You always thought the two of you were solid, unbreakable. But as you began to pick up after the untouched meal, you realized that your fiance had other thoughts in his head. He had another girl in his heart.

You sobbed as you put away the meal, humming softly to yourself to keep from breaking completely. You had lost your own appetite, thinking of what you would do when Elvis came back home. Would you scream at Elvis? Would you throw your ring at him? Would you just hide in your bedroom and cry until he notices? Would he notice at all, anyway? You had felt no reason to be upset at Priscilla, she was being a friend. The girl was sweet enough to even write to you when she wrote to Elvis. But he was too far gone, and you couldn’t do a thing about it. You knew how he was feeling, deep down. But you stayed anyway. You helped him break your heart, and watched as he buried you, all four of your hands bloodied.

All the things you did just to keep him by your side. All the nights spent awake talking while he was out of state. The numerous trips to visit him while he was filming. The hours spent by his side trying to talk him down when he was anxious. All the time and money spent on dresses, makeup, hair, so that everything was to his liking. And yet, here you are, picking up an untouched romantic dinner while he runs off to get Priscilla.

-+-

By the time Elvis came home with Priscilla, you had gone upstairs to get ready for bed. You put on your satin slip nightgown, braided your hair for the night, and walked to the bathroom to brush your teeth. When you had just finished rinsing out your mouth, Elvis walked into your shared bedroom, a frown smothering his face. “Why weren’t you downstairs when we came home? Priscilla was excited to finally meet you.” You began to wash your face of the day, trying to keep your voice steady as you talked to him. “I’m sorry, love. I just had a headache after dinner so I came upstairs early. But I can go say hi to her when I’m finished here if you’d like.”

Elvis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Goddammit, Y/N! I don’t understand your problem. I know things haven’t been perfect since I got back, but you don’t have to feign a headache so you don’t have to talk to my friend. Priscilla is a sweet girl. I don’t get why you don’t like her.” You blanched at his words. Under your breath you shuddered out, “I don’t have a problem with Priscilla.” He turned back to you. “What?” You blushed, speaking up to him. You finally voiced everything on your mind. “I said, I don’t have a problem with Priscilla. I think she’s lovely, and I’m really glad you’ve made friends while you were away. But I do have a problem with you forgetting about me and our relationship in favor of other people.”

You really had no problem with Priscilla being here, not at all. No, your problem was Elvis not telling you before leaving that she was staying over. Your problem was being pushed aside once again, even after defending him to your friends. After trying to reason that Germany must have changed him, and that he’d be back to the Elvis that held you for hours just because he wanted to feel you against him. The same Elvis who would smother your face with kisses before leaving the house, no matter how long he would be gone. The same Elvis who made love to you in a way that made you feel so seen, like a blind man regaining sight. But now it’s clear that Elvis is gone, replaced with an Elvis you’re not sure you can continue being around.

You continued when he didn’t speak. “Look at what became of us, Elvis. We haven’t had an actual date in over 6 months. You never told me that Priscilla was coming to visit. I tried to make us a nice dinner so we could finally spend time together, and you left to pick her up. I would’ve been fine if you had just let me know in advance that she was coming. I could’ve moved the dinner. Hell, I could’ve made extra so she could eat, Lord knows plane rides make people hungry. I’m exhausted having to try over and over to please you, and your focus is somewhere else. I haven’t talked to my friends in months because despite how you’ve been acting, I didn’t like how they talked about you. I gave up school to be with you. I moved an hour away from my family to live with you. I gave up so much, and you can’t even tell me when your friend is coming for a visit. You can’t be bothered to kiss me or hold me anymore.”

You sighed as you put your head back, finally letting the tears out. “I will stay in this house until Priscilla has left to go back home. I won’t stay in this room anymore, and once she’s gone, I’m officially leaving.” You take off your engagement ring, setting it in front of Elvis, seeing his face pale at your words. “The things I did, just so I could call you mine, Elvis. I love you, I do, but I can’t keep living like this.”

As you grab your things to put in a bag to take to a guest room, Elvis finally speaks back up. “Baby, please don’t do this. I’m sorry I made you feel like this, I am, but can’t we talk about this further? Please. You’re my girl. My li’l mama. Please, Y/N.” He reached for you, attempting to hug you, crying into your shoulder. You cried into his arms that were wrapped around your chest. “No, baby, please. We both let this relationship go a long time ago. I think we need to realize that. I was just trying to fix something that was far too broken to fix.”

You let him sob into you a little bit more, trying not to break down further yourself. Finally making him let go, you went for the door. “I think it might actually be better if I sleep in a hotel. I’ll come back for anything I missed in a few days.” Stopping at the door, you turned to look at your love one last time. “I hope I was your favorite crime. You were mine, baby.”

[divine-donna]

hello! can i please request happy-end headcanons for alicent, helaena and aemond? happy end headcanonds in terms of them being happy and in love and alive and dance of dragons is far behind them if ever happened. just what it would be like and how would they be in the times of peace with their s/o. TBH i'm just dying to read some proper alicent relationship headcanons where she isn't miserable. let me know if something is wrong with what i requested.

hi! of course you may! i do find it a little funny that you request head canons for alicent when she isn't miserable, mostly because it feels like i have written quite a bit of stuff where she is miserable. but i'm happy to provide!

idk if this is exactly what you meant? but i’m happy to redo these head canons.

preamble

choosing to defy the former hand of the king was...well, it was a choice. even with criston’s confession, the queen simply shook her head. standing by rhaenyra was tough, especially when she knew the truth. but when the crown sat upon her best friend’s head, a sigh of relief had left her. rhaenyra does something unexpected from a queen: sparing the lives of her brothers and sisters. do they challenge her claim to the iron throne? yes. but they were not going to do any harm, not when she had legitimate targaryen children with daemon anyways. the waiting, the anticipation, was finally over. and perhaps a simpler, much more joyous life lied ahead.

alicent hightower

the way she hugged you so tightly when you were walking through the godswood. you have never felt such a tighter hug, heard such a loud cry. and she pulled her face away before pressing that long, hard kiss on your lips. you were very surprised and your kiss back was a bit delayed. but when she pulled away, you asked about the celebration. we are free! i am free! she had said. alicent hugged you tightly and then asked you something quite big: go to oldtown with her. she’s taking her kids too. you’ll become their second parent. and yes, you’ve grown up in king’s landing. but alicent was your one and only, the stars in the night sky. you laughed and told her you would go with her. she just kissed you again. you two would go back and spend all your days reading while she laid on your lap and played with your fingers.

“i have only visited oldtown. but every time i have visited, it has never felt like home. and then i realized it was because i was without you. so (y/n), come with me. come with me to oldtown. we can spend our days amongst books and paper and it will be just us.”

aemond targaryen

perhaps he still is bitter. you could tell by the way he clenches his jaw and digs his fingers in his arm. but when he got his vengeance, there was nothing but emptiness. his anger and bitterness still remained. something was missing. and aemond realized how much his desire for vengeance had consumed him when he sees luke say that a dornish soldier had taken out his eye. there was a brief look of exchange between them before rhaenyra cupped his face and told him she was grateful he was okay. an eye for an eye after all. you’re surprised to see him that night and the way he hugs you, burying his face within your chest. he stays there for a long time before pulling away. he asks you to come with him to oldtown. that is where his mother is going after all. you laugh, tell him you can’t exactly leave since you had a found family at the street of silk. but he shakes his head, asking you to come. vengeance was unfulfilling. but you? you made him feel fulfilled. and at this point, who was to care about him being with you? rhaenyra being queen already broke the social norms. people would begin to care less after all.

“i love you (y/n). i love you and i want you to come with me. come with me and be my spouse. we can start a family, start anew. dare i say we can even mount vhagar and leave this wretched place.”

helaena targaryen

helaena had always wanted to travel the world. but as a daughter to the king and queen, she was duty bound. until the day rhaenyra was crowned. she was a princess, yes. but there wasn’t anything for her to really...do. and her mother was going to oldtown. so with her mother’s permission (and a paper signed by her sister), she decides to leave and explore essos. she immediately runs to you, someone working on research. and she asks if you would want to join her in traveling across the narrow sea, see essos, and help her pursue her research in bugs. there were so many she had read about but never seen. and the shine in her eyes made you melt. so of course you said yes! who were you to deny your princess a journey across the narrow sea?

“where shall we go first (y/n)? shall we go to braavos? or lys? where do you need to go to complete your research? we can always go somewhere that suits the both of us. i am happy just being with you.”

[freakshowtwopointoh]

Wait for Me - All I've Ever Known Part 6

I'm coming, wait for me

I hear the walls repeating the falling of my feet, and it sounds like drumming

And I am not alone, I hear the rocks and stones echoing my song

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I don’t know what came over me, asking Jordan to drive me to Sam’s grave. First off, it’s not like there’s anything there. It’s an empty wooden box. Secondly, I don’t even like going there with my family, and I rarely have the courage to go alone. Jordan and I were barely cordial at this point, why did I trust them with this? But visiting his grave had been on my mind more and more since the anniversary of his disappearance, and the question had fallen out of my mouth before I even realized what I was going to say. The only one more shocked than me by my request was Jordan, their brown eyes widening as they spun to look me in the eyes.

“I could walk, it really isn’t that far. Forget I said anything.” I said awkwardly, picking at my nail beds.

“No, no, I’ll drive you. Come on, before everyone else wakes up.” Jordan headed for the front door, not waiting for my weak protests. So that’s how I ended up on the back of Jordan’s motorcycle, sporting a massive black helmet, and clinging to their waist for dear life as we made the short drive to the cemetery. 

As they drove, I couldn’t help but become acutely aware of the way my heart sped up being so close to Jordan. The smell of leather, cigarettes, and their cologne combined with the intensity of the wind in my ears and how my entire body was pressed against Jordan’s back was going to be the death of me. But once we clambered off of the bike and began making our way through the tombstones, I felt the sinking dread creeping up on me. The fear, the grief, all the unanswered questions. Feelings I usually forced into boxes and buried in the back of my mind. But around Jordan, I had begun to let go. Being alone with Jordan was like commiserating with a castmate in the dressing room after a play, especially now that they knew more about my secrets. So I could feel myself letting go, my posture (which was usually picture perfect) almost curling in on itself as we got closer to the location I had chosen - a tall oak tree a little separated from the others.

“I picked the spot.” I whispered to Jordan. “Thought he’d like the tree.” I didn’t expect them to say anything to that. I was grateful that they didn’t, quietly walking by my side.

When I found the spot where Sam’s marker was, Jordan made a show of putting in their earbuds, then leaned against the tree. They faced the other way to give me some privacy. I sat next to the small stone, focusing on my strongest memories of Sam’s face. Memories I kept locked away. The way his curls bounced when he was excited, the exasperated look he would give me when Luke was being particularly... Luke. The songs we would sing together, the inside jokes we shared. The million times he made me watch Waterworld. The way he never failed to make me laugh when I was crying. 

Tears started to stream down my face without me realizing it. "Where are you, Sammy?" I whispered. "Where'd they take you?" My shoulders shook slightly as I sobbed. "I miss you so much. Please, come back to me." I whispered quietly to the abyss. I rested my forehead on the cold stone, feeling waves of grief wash over me. Feelings of loss and anger and pain that I force down like bile, all coming up. I just let myself sob, feeling the weight of a whole year without my best friend crushing me all at once. 

And the fear. What if he was out there? Was he in pain? Or did he just die somewhere else? Some other way? Is he just rotting away in some forest somewhere? Is he lost or afraid? So many questions, no answers. And how was I supposed to do anything about it all alone? I didn’t even know where to start. I’m supposed to be some kind of fucking hero. I’m supposed to be smart. And my brother is gone and all I can do is sit around and cry, signing my life away to the corporation that uses us however they can.They feel entitled to us because they “made” us. Grief for Sam blurred with anguish at the situation I was in now, and the sickening realization at how helpless I truly was.

After a while, I sat up straighter, the sobs subsiding as I pulled myself together. I somehow felt lighter, and more fragile. Jordan threw a travel package of tissues at my head and I laughed as I cried, blowing my nose loudly. 

“Do you travel with those or did you come prepared?” I asked, chuckling. 

“I came prepared.” They said, feigning nonchalance. They were still leaning on the tree, gazing off into the cemetery. Jordan wasn’t one to shy away from silence, allowing me time to fully pull myself together. I stood up, brushing off my pants, and walking over to them. 

“Whenever I come out here with my family, they want to make it a big thing. Did you get the right flowers? Are we in the right clothes? Can the driver wait for us?” I sighed. “Sometimes I feel like fucking Truman. Always putting on a show, never really sure who it’s for.” I admitted.

“If it makes you feel any better, I could always tell you were faking it.” They said wryly, giving me a sideways glance. I laughed, a real genuine laugh, a little too loud for the somber atmosphere.

“It kind of does.” I said, smiling back. We just stood there in comfortable silence for a moment, appreciating the strange beauty of the cemetery in the fall. 

“What makes you think Sam is still out there somewhere? Is it some kind of sixth sense?” They asked me, keeping their eyes forward. 

“No.” I said, laughing lightly, and then I paused, taking a deep breath. “When Sam was suicidal, a couple of years before he disappeared, his biggest concern was us. His family, I mean. He didn’t want to ‘cause us any more issues.’” I put the last part in air quotes, a stray tear trickling from my eye. “It’s nonsense that he would just... disappear. But no one else thought that, so...” I gestured at the graveyard around me. After a long moment of silence, Jordan spoke.

“I always thought it sounded suspicious. But that’s not really what you say to a grieving friend.” They said finally. I laughed darkly.

“Luke and I have had multiple disagreements over this particular issue. Something to the effect of me ‘not knowing our brother as well as I think I do’ and just being ‘a silly little girl who can’t face reality’.” I scoffed. “It’s good you didn’t.” I found myself glaring ahead at nothing. Jordan shifted slightly. 

“I... think I overheard one of those fights.” They said sheepishly. “Not on purpose! Obviously.” They reassured me. “But it, uh, well...”

“That’s embarrassing.” I said, laughing awkwardly. “My relationship with Luke was complicated before Sam vanished, so that just made everything messier.” I explained. Luke acted like he was so much older and wiser than us, and was always willing to do exactly what our parents wanted him to. “Anyways, my family’s fucked, I’m sure your family’s fucked, because at this point, it’s a statistical miracle to be a supe with a good relationship with their parents, now let’s go grab some food.” I said, signaling the end of this little heart-to-heart. I smiled and made the trek back to their bike. 

When we made it back to the townhouse, Luke, Cate, and Andre were all lounging in the living room.

“Hey, nerds, we were gonna watch a few movies, pretend like we don’t have a shit ton of studying to do. Wanna join?” Andre called out to us as we came in.

“Emma will kill me if I don’t invite her.” Jordan said, pulling out their phone to text her. I didn’t know Emma well, but I knew she and Jordan went way back, and that she was a riot. She’s one of those people that you want to be friends with as soon as you meet them. She lights up any room she’s in, and makes everyone feel welcome.

Before I know it, we’re all crammed into the living room. I’m squished between the arm of this old loveseat and Jordan. Emma’s sitting on a pillow on the floor by our feet, and Luke, Cate, and Andre are all piled onto an equally old couch. I grimaced at the line up Andre had selected - a series of horror movies that looked to be particularly frightening. I toyed with the idea of coming up with an excuse to bail - I wasn’t looking for more nightmare fuel. I had enough of that in my real life, thank you very much. But I felt Jordan’s thigh pressed tantalizingly against mine and I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

The first movie went fine - The Exorcist. I mean, it was scary, but I was alright. Then came What Lies Beneath. The psychological nature of it was hard enough, but when Norman was holding his wife underwater, every muscle in my body tensed. I felt my hands begin to tremble and my throat threaten to close as the room spun around me. Laughter that I knew wasn’t real was echoing in the room and I couldn’t hear anything else. 

I tried to remember what Grace had told me to do. I started counting, knowing if I made it to a thousand, I could leave without drawing too much attention.

Flashback

“Listen, Mags, I know this is a lot, and you’re scared. PTSD is no joke - and while your therapist can give you tools, they obviously don’t know everything.” I clenched my jaw as she said this - Vought had made me agree to use Vought appointed counselors and I was prevented from sharing certain details with them. “If you’re ever in public and you start feeling an episode coming on, count to a thousand, and then excuse yourself to the restroom. By that point, you should be through the worst of it and be able to make it to privacy without alerting anyone that something is wrong.” I nodded, pushing down the torrent of questions I still had for her. 

Jordan must have noticed the change in my posture because they reached over and squeezed my hand, startling me and making me lose count. Fuck. I squeezed their hand back, trying to keep myself present. I focused on the feeling of the arm of the loveseat digging into my ribs, trying to force the sound of laughter away. I took a deep breath, realizing I had forgotten to keep breathing in my efforts to maintain composure. 

Their breath was hot on my neck. “You ok, little mouse? It’s just a movie.” They whispered softly. I nodded stiffly, keeping my eyes straight ahead. “Ok, then can you loosen up a bit? I’d like to keep my fingers.” My heart skipped a beat and I dropped their hand suddenly.

“Sorry about that.” I mumbled, the embarrassment bringing me out of my flashback slightly. I looked down and realized that I was trapped in my spot, cornered between Emma and Jordan. Every part of my body was screaming at me to run. I still didn’t feel like I could breathe right. Jordan looked back at me, concern etched in their face. I realized my hands were clenched in fists in my lap, knuckles white with the effort. Jordan picked up one of my hands, the one closer to them, and gently but firmly forced my hand open. They smoothed my hand, almost massaging my palm with their thumbs as they tried to soothe me. I took a long and deep breath, trying desperately to calm down. They interlaced our fingers, holding my hand in an effort to soothe me.

Finally, the credits began to roll, and people began cleaning up and saying good night. Everything felt far away, like I had turned the volume down on the world. I went through the motions, waving goodbye and getting up to go to bed. Once I made my way upstairs, Jordan cornered me in the hallway, the same way they did when we first met.

“You sure you’re alright, mouse? Need anything?” I shook my head but found myself stepping forward and wrapping my arms around Jordan in a tentative embrace.

“It’s been a long day.” I said quietly. They wrapped their arms around me, hugging me close.

“It’s been a long year.” They corrected. “You’re doing great. Sleep well, alright?” They said, before pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And I couldn’t keep a small smile off of my face as I nodded and went into my room. Maybe everything was going to turn out alright...

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edits by @barbieprincesshilton

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

159. closure

It’s the worst fight she’s ever had with Joel.

It’s absurd, really. They’ve been re-divorced for six months. He has a baby on the way. She’s working consistently again, and they’ve been doing the co-parenting thing successfully for a while now.

So it’s a shock when he snaps, “Do you know how much easier my life would be if you would just get out of it?!”

She stares at him for a long moment before turning on her heel and leaving his apartment.

She ignores him shouting after her, “I thought you were taking the kids!” Because while she loves Ethan and Esther, Joel’s words have left her feeling so raw, so defeated, that she can’t be the mother they need at this moment. Tomorrow, maybe, but right now she needs to get as far from Joel and any reminder of him as she possibly can.

Which, unfortunately, also means she can’t go back to her apartment.

She realizes this just as she’s about to raise her arm to flag down a taxi, and her hand stops, falling to her side. She clenches her fists. She wants to scream, to throw things and break down and throw a temper tantrum in the middle of Chinatown.

She ponders going to Imogene’s before remembering she and Archie are visiting family in Iowa. She could go to Susie’s office, but that’s going to be the first place Joel checks.

So she takes a deep breath and walks. She walks until her feet are too tired to keep moving forward, and she realizes she’s ended up at Washington Square Park, the site of the last major breakdown she had the morning after being dumped from the Shy Baldwin tour.

She collapses onto a bench and feels her swollen, blistered feet thank her for the reprieve as she squeezes her eyes closed and starts crying.

She covers her face in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees to support herself while sobs wrack her body. It doesn’t even occur to her to care whether people are staring. Let them. Her ex-husband basically just told her he wishes she was dead, and she’s lonelier than she’s ever been.

A figure casts a shadow over her, and she ignores it until she hears, “Based on your posture, I’m guessing that’s not the show corset.”

She laughs through a sob because of course he’s here, her guardian angel, showing up out of the clear blue. She drops her hands but doesn’t look up. “This one has been officially dubbed the my ex wishes I was dead corset.”

She hears the burning of the end of his cigarette as he inhales. “Yeah, I’ve got a whole drawer of those,” he replies.

He sits next to her, and all she wants is to curl into him, close her eyes, and breathe him in until she forgets everything else around them. But that’s not who they are. 

They’re just friends.

“So...” She sniffs, swiping her fingers under her eyes, trying to wipe away her surely fucked makeup before she looks at him. “You’re back.”

“I’m back,” he confirms quietly. “And just in the nick of time, it seems.”

“The nick of time?” She repeats.

Lenny taps the ash from his cigarette and it flutters away in the breeze. “To make sure you’re okay. Legend has it that you tend to get arrested when you’re in a bad mood.”

She scoffs a mirthless laugh. “Well, thank you for rescuing me, then.”

Silence falls, and eventually he passes her his cigarette, almost gone. “Last puff?” He asks.

She turns her head slightly, still unable to meet his gaze, and takes it with trembling fingers, inhaling gratefully when it touches her lips. “Thanks,” she says again.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She slumps back against the bench, her shoulders bumping his arm stretched over the back. He doesn’t move away though. In fact, he adjusts so that his arm is draped over her, and he gently squeezes her shoulder. She shakes her head and whispers, “No, I don’t...”

He nods. “Okay,” he replies softly, and he shifts a little closer so their sides are pressed together. “We can just sit here, then.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She looks at him cautiously.

His gaze is soft when he says, “You’re more important.”

She blinks quickly as more tears well up in her eyes, and she thumps her head against his shoulder as he soothingly rubs her arm.

[mothellie]

Jason & 💙🩶🤍🌻🌴

💙 What's a popular headcanon for them that you adore? Sub Jason. I'm sorry, I genuinely can't see him as anything else. I can get behind Sub Top Jason but that's as far as I can will myself to go. That boy is 9 times out of 10 a pillow princess.

🩶 What fandom universe would they just perish in? The first one that came to mind was The Last of Us, for obvious reasons. He'd think they were demons and he hadn't been sent to Heaven on judgement day and just take it lying down 😭 /lh /aff

🤍 Do they need therapy? Is that even a question? Yes. Expediently.

🌻 What song(s) do you associate with them? My main pick takes some explaining to most people, though you personally probably know the explanation already. False Confidence by Noah Kahan. This has been my go-to religious trauma healing song since 2019. This song perfectly captures my journey with deconstructing, the doubts I had towards the end and how I kept trying to convince myself that believing harder would cast that doubt away. 'Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see' feels so heavy for me because I would be at my old church every Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday just hoping for a sign that I wasn't doomed, only to never get a single one. 'Look at me all fucked up over someone I'll never meet' was my recurring thoughts when I realized I was queer, and how I knew this higher power I had put so much of my mental strength and willpower into believing would never love or accept me because I was just too 'broken' for him. I heavily project my history with religion onto Jason, because I see so much of myself in him. I can imagine him making the realization that he's queer in some capacity and it absolutely decimating the carefully-built safeguards he placed for himself so he always stayed 'pure'. I can imagine him being 10 years old at a religious summer camp in the middle of the woods being asked if he thinks he's going to Heaven and him being the only one in his group to say no. I can imagine him volunteering for every little event in the church because he thinks church is the only thing that gives his life any meaning. I can imagine him crying his eyes out at vacation bible school because he fumbled the words of a verse he swore he had memorized. All of the horrible things I experienced fit so well into his character that it's hard to separate my own experiences from my headcanons of him. I would love to write a fic for him at some point set to this song. I think it would heal me a little more.

🌴 What's their family like? Did they come from a good home? There's no way he came from a good home. I will say I go a few different ways for his family in general depending on the plot and everything, but my main headcanons are definitely the most projection-heavy, so a lot of it takes a lot of explaining. Jason's parents met when his mother was young, mistakes were made, and he was conceived. His mother being young meant that she wasn't ready to be a mother in any capacity, so she also made a lot of mistakes, met a lot of men that didn't treat her right, all of that jazz. But it never meant that Jason's mom was necessarily bad at being one, even if his father's feelings on the matter would suggest otherwise. Jason's paternal side of the family put the full blame of his conception on her, saying she ruined their son's life and didn't deserve the title of mother. It eventually culminated in Jason's father fighting for full custody without visitation rights, coaching Jason to lie in court about his mother to tip the scales in their favor. Then, once they got what they wanted, Jason was cut off from all contact with his mom. He was put into church at an early age and eventually got baptized when he was 11. His father puts up the appearance of being a stand-up man and a great single dad, but behind closed doors, his attitude towards his son is hot and cold. He goes from making Jason feel like they're best friends to making him feel like he's enemy #1 to a man who's simply 'trying his best.' Jason would struggle in school and the conversation would never be about helping Jason on his level, it would be about how much of a disappointment he is to those around him and how he's capable of doing better, just doesn't want to. I go back and forth on physical abuse being present in the Carver home, but I often lean on the fact that it's a not-zero statistic. Maybe not often, or even infrequently, but it's definitely happened.

-> In response to Long-ish Blorbo Ask Game !

[caffedrine]

Gilbert - Public or Private Persona – Which Do You Prefer? The Public Persona Event Summary

Do I ever know what I'm doing? You shouldn't trust me, or my suspect understanding of what's going on in my daily life, much less in Gilbert's world.

Accuracy is not guaranteed - you should definitely pick up this event when it reaches the English server.

Even though the three princes are on an extended visit to Rhodolite, Emma’s duties as Belle must continue. She is attending a party hosted by the domestic faction of princes in order to interact with the nobles to make her choice.

A woman bumps into her, spilling her drink on Emma’s dress. The liquid quickly changes the color of the fabric of Emma’s dress, making it clear that it is now spoiled. The woman apologizes insincerely, and the man escorting her smiles mockingly.  Emma realizes that this was done on purpose just as she recognizes them as a high-ranking couple. Emma gives the woman a pointed look, and the woman asks if Emma is trying to imply this is anything other than an accident.

Since Emma has become acquainted with Gilbert, this isn’t entirely unexpected. She was ostensibly under the protection of Leon as his date, but he had stepped away from the party to handle a separate matter. It has not gone unnoticed by her that this ‘accident’ occurred once Leon had left.

The woman suggests Emma leaves. Her dress is spoiled and unsuitable for this gathering now. The man offers to explain to Leon that she had to leave. Emma refuses, and the couple insists that she should really go, lingering in a ruined dress would reflect badly on Leon.

The people around them are pretending not to watch, but Emma can feel the sharpness of their attention. They are waiting for her to make a fuss and cause trouble for Leon. Emma decides to call this party a bust and try another time.

Suddenly the background chatter cuts off, and the atmosphere temperature drops several degrees. Emma doesn’t turn to look, but a feeling colder than the water dumped on her washes over her. The woman’s complexion goes white as she looks at something just behind Emma.

Emma doesn’t have to turn to look to see who it is. A cheerful voice from behind her tells the room that they don’t have to be so frightened, but he’s impressed that they’re so righteous. A hand is placed on Emma’s shoulder.

Just as Emma turns to face Gilbert, he leans over her to dump a glass of water onto the woman’s face. He immediately apologizes, it seems his hand slipped. Just as Emma is about to ask him what he’s doing, Gilbert throws the empty water glass at the woman’s feet, shattering it. The noise echoes in the silent room, and Emma thinks that he might be angry.

Gilbert notes that Emma looks especially pitiful now, all drenched in water. He assures her that she’s still cute though. He is the only one who doesn’t seem to mind the oppressive atmosphere that makes it difficult to breathe, much less talk.

Emma asks Gilbert what he’s doing here, and why he came to the party. Gilbert admits that he was curious, so he wanted to stop by and take a quick look. At the party? Nope, he was hoping to see how Emma looked in her dress. His sweet words seep into Emma like poison.

Emma has no doubt what he said will only support the rumors of her and Gilbert’s alleged relationship. Gilbert doesn’t seem bothered by this and turns his focus from her to the woman who had been harassing her. Gilbert tells the woman that he will listen to her as an apology for ‘accidentally’ dumping water on her. After all, she must have wanted to get his attention if she went so far as to dump water on Emma. The woman assures him that she absolutely does not want to do this.

Gilbert tells her that he hates liars, and even though it’s not directed at her, Emma can feel a sudden murderous intent emanate from him. The woman starts to cry. Emma realizes that she should have stopped Gilbert at the beginning, but she was too afraid.

Gilbert explains that Emma is a friend of his, so he would like to know why she’s being bothered. If the woman won’t say anything, he can’t guarantee that anyone in this room will live to see the sun rise the next morning.

The pressure was so strong, Emma was close to hyperventilating. Still, she tells Gilbert that he’s already heard the story, this was just an unfortunate accident. Gilbert turns to her and asks if she’s lying.

Emma insists that it’s up to her, as the person on the other end, to decide whether or not this is an accident, and she has. Right now, all she can see is Gilbert’s red eye. She meets and holds the gaze of Prince Gilbert; the World’s Calamity and the Trampling Beast, for an eternity as she waits to see if she will live or die.

Gilbert suddenly reaches out to touch her cheek and notes that Emma’s dress is wet. She should hurry and change before she catches a cold. Emma tells him that she’ll do that later, and Gilbert insists that she do that right now.

Emma is reluctant to leave Gilbert alone in this room of nobles and asks him to come with her. Gilbert asks if she seriously just invited him to help her change her clothes. She’s a lot bolder than he was expecting, but if she wants that kind of relationship with him . . .

(This is the 'Does it Hurt to Have a Bad Brain' expression)

Okay, fine. Emma will leave BY HERSELF but begs Gilbert not to do anything to the people here. Gilbert reminds her that they were just bullying her, and Emma tells him that she doesn’t care about that. Gilbert complains that she’s so nice it makes him sick, but he won’t hurt anyone here.

True to his words, the murderous aura Gilbert was emitting begins to fade. Emma reminds herself that Gilbert isn’t a liar, so the people are probably safe. Emma leaves.

Emma notes that whenever Gilbert gets that murderous aura is when she is in danger. She wonders if it’s a coincidence.

She quickly changes and returns to the party, where all those people who had been so cold to her earlier were suddenly friendly and considerate. Gilbert had left, and Leon had also returned by then though he looked noticeably upset. Emma wonders what Gilbert did while she was gone.

After the party, she returns to her room, tired and sore. Gilbert casually greets her from her couch as Emma starts taking off her shoes. She stops as she realizes something is different and focuses on Gilbert, who is reading the romance novel she had left out. Gilbert asks if this is the kind of story Emma is into, an evil emperor changing his ways for the love of a village girl.

Emma asks Gilbert why he’s in her room. Gilbert closes the book, probably losing her place like the true villain he is. Gilbert explains that he’s here so that she can thank him.

Smiling as sweetly as ever, Gilbert stands and approaches her. Feeling villainy flow from him, Emma backs away until her back hits the wall. Gilbert places a hand on either side of her, trapping her. He tells her that she can’t run away from this.

Oh no! What should Emma do?

To be continued in Gilbert’s Private Persona

[alara-kahya]

"Things end, that's all. Everything ends, and it's always sad. But everything begins again, and that's always happy." - 12th Doctor.

Self Para: Post break-up, 3 days later. Involved: Jayden Cross (deceased), her mom & Kian. Mentions: Nate Donovan & Emiri Tezel. Location/s: Cemetery & her home. Triggers: Death, grief, heartache.

"So, yeah, that's it. Sorry to come and bring bad news, I just... Well, selfishly I guess I thought it would help." Sighing as she sat on the ground in front of Jayden's grave, she tucked her knees into her chest and decided to just wallow for a minute. It was day three since Nate had walked out and aside from this right here, she hadn't told anyone. Not her mom, not even Emiri. What was she supposed to say? "I don't know how to talk about it with anyone else, or maybe I'm just scared to." Yeah, that felt more accurate. Alara had worked so incredibly hard over the years to shape herself into a strong and confident woman, it was difficult for her to show that she was still capable of being hurt. "I know what you'd say, I even know what you'd do, you would hug me and tell me to call my mom. Actually, you'd probably call her yourself. You can't beat a hug from your mom." She chuckles, saying something that Jayden used to say about her mother. Honestly, he was as close to an adopted child as her mom had, it broke her too when he died.

The soft laugh soon turned into a sniffle and before she knew it, she was choking back a sob and desperately wiping at the tears that spilled over her eyes. "How did I let this happen again," she puffed out a breath, still somehow laughing between crying, though it was far from a place of amusement. "I did what you always wanted me to do and I took a chance. Now look at me, right back to square one and you're not even here for me to say it's all your fault." Joking, but the words only made her miserable. "I feel like a fool, I really thought if I just kept patience, he'd find his moment and talk to me. Now I'm wondering if I should have pushed harder? And then I hate myself for thinking this could be my fault, because it isn't, is it? I gave him everything, and it just wasn't enough, how am I supposed to accept that? How can I when I don't understand." Groaning, what she does understand now is why she chose to come here and talk to a headstone over someone who could actually support her. Emotional and manic wasn't her best look, she wanted to try and vent a lot of it out before she turned to her family and friends. "It just hurts, it... yeah, it hurts."

The ache that swirled all around her insides only rippled outwards until it felt like even breathing in was painful. "I'm so lost without you, Jj, I miss you so much. So much." It wasn't fair. A thought that she seemed to be thinking a lot lately. Nothing was ever fair and she couldn't stand it. "You don't know what I'd give to go back, even if it was just to see you one last time." She lost herself when he had died, that much was clear to everyone who loved her, but what a lot of them didn't realize was that she never truly recovered. A part of her was still lost, still trying to claw it's way back but it never would. There was an empty space there in her heart that belonged entirely to her best friend. Sighing, she swiped more tears away and climbed up to her feet, staying crouched as her brown eyes lingered over his name. "Love you. I'll be back in a couple days, I'll bring beer." With a sad smile and a soft hand pressed against the cold stone, she takes a deep breath and turns to leave. Hopefully looking a little less blurry-eyed by the time she got home to greet her mother.

"Hey," calling out as she drops her bag at the door. "Sorry I'm late, work ran over and then I got talking to Jay," a statement that wasn't out the ordinary, it was never unusual for her to visit the cemetery just to keep her lost friend upto date on her life. "That's ok, sweetie. Little man is all tucked up, he's just waiting for a hug," her mom smiles, though she can't help but eye Alara with mild suspicion. "Everything ok?" Hard not to notice bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks when they were right in front of you, but it wasn't just that. It was something Kian had told her while they ate dinner. That he heard his mommy crying in the middle of the night. "Yeah, I'll go give him his hug," shying away from her gaze, she knew she couldn't talk about it right now, not while her son was waiting for her.

Making her way up the stairs, she does her best to rub the mascara away and go in his room with a warm greeting. "Hello my beautiful baby. Sorry I missed dinner." Walking over to sit on the end of his bed, her smile actually reaching her eyes just at the sight of him. "That's okay, but nanna made me eat sweetcorn," he pulled a blegh face and shuffled out his covers to envelope his arms around her. An action that had her eyes stinging with a fresh set of tears as she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "I didn't tell her sweetcorn is on the no no list now." Chuckling, she kisses at the top of his head, and holds him tight, finding a warm comfort that only he could ever really provide. It almost made her unwilling to tuck him back in, but she did, somehow resisting the urge to just lay down with him. "Mommy?" Innocent eyes peer up at her as she strokes his hair. "Are you sad?"

The question made her heart hurt, she never wanted to be sad in front of him but she should have known, he was always very perceptive. "I'm a little bit sad, yeah. Missing your Uncle Jayden a lot today." It wasn't a lie, and she obviously wasn't going to tell her four-year-old child about her breakup. "It's okay to be sad sometimes, as long as you know how to make yourself happy again, and I do, so don't worry." Nodding, she wasn't sure that part was quite true, not as things stood. "How do you do that?" He asks, making her laugh softly. "Well, I just look at you and all that sadness goes away. You know what I always tell you, I'm the luckiest mommy in the world to have a baby as kind and loving as you. But it's late, so close your eyes and dream nice dreams. I love you." Leaning forward to kiss his head, she waits for him to say it back and gently leaves the room, door ajar just how he liked it.

As soon as he was out of sight, she has her hands pressed over her mouth, silencing the hiccup and quickly making her way to her room. Washing up and getting into her pj's, she's surprised when she sees her mom still here, waiting for her on the sofa. "Now that your baby is settled, let me settle mine..." Patting a hand on the sofa, Alara looks between her and the spot, wary, almost timid. She didn't want to break, but damn, it didn't matter how old she got, a mother's influence was always the instinctive way to run. And so, she grabs a blanket and walks over, settling herself closely by her side, head on her shoulder and arm around her front, allowing her mother to just be there and hold her.

"Jayden was never wrong about this, can't beat one of your hugs." Smiling as she sits up, she doesn't bother to hide the sad defeat in her eyes, instead, she just shrugs. "Nate and I are done. He'd rather spiral than lean on me. I tried, but... It's pretty impossible to fight for someone who doesn't want to be fought for." The corners of her eyes crease as she tries to say it with a calm tone. As soon as she hears her mom say she's sorry, she shakes her head, trying to tell her she didn't really have anything else to say, except maybe... "You know what the worst part is? I never forgot how crap this feels, I broke my own promise never to put myself back in a position where I can be hurt because... I managed to convince myself that this time, it wouldn't end with tears."

And in a gesture to her own, she scoffs a sad half-laugh and tries to swallow the lump in her throat. She appreciates that her mom gives her the time to talk without interrupting, the squeeze on her arm is comforting enough without making her feel crowded. "Maybe I'm just not meant to be in a relationship. Some people aren't, and that's fine. I was happy by myself, I can be that way again." Nodding, "Yeah. It's fine. I'm- I'll be fine." Maybe if she said it enough, she would actually start to believe it. "Alara..." That soft tone of a concerned mother had her sucking in a breath as she shakes her head. "Don't. Please, just don't. I don't need you to say anything." She practically insists, misty brown eyes lifting up to hers only to close with a shaky sigh. "Okay, sweetie. I won't. But you should go get me some pajamas because I'll be staying here tonight." Her mom says, lifting a hand up to Alara's cheek, hoping that she wouldn't protest. Truthfully, she didn't have the energy, and not being alone sounded far better. "Thank you."

[nullbutler]

cielois childhood friends au??

this au just came to me this morning but like...consider

When O!Ciel was a kid, he spent a lot of long days trapped in the manor, too sick to participate in his brother's adventures or accompany his parents. He was very lonely, of course, and isolated...that is, until a peasant boy from a neighboring estate appeared one day in his garden! That, of course, being Jim Macken!

So, O!Ciel and Jim become close friends. At first their relationship is sort of transactionary, as Jim originally came to the manor to steal some medicine to help his sickly brother, Luka. However, O!Ciel gets that to him, and eventually when Luka is better, Jim decides he ought to meet O!Ciel too. So together they hide in the gardens of the manor and, over time, become very sweet childhood friends. For most of their time together, Luka usually ends up falling asleep (it's peaceful, he's never felt fuller safe before, on the streets, and also he's like 5) so O!CIel and Jim form a particularly special bond...and O!Ciel's parents (as well as his brother) have no idea what he's actually up to!

Fast forward some time, and O!Ciel sees smoke rising from the hills. The canon anime events have taken place, and Jim's village is in flames. Jim runs to the Phantomhive manor and begs O!Ciel to help him find Luka. So, O!Ciel sneaks away from his parents and follows Jim into what best can be described as literal hell. There, they don't get far, but find Luka's body.

Ciel's parents - who realized he was missing and tracked him down - appear. They carry him away, despite his struggling, and he's incapable of telling them about Jim. The smoke from the fire has clogged his lungs and affected his asthma. He can't breathe, let alone cry...

This is only a few weeks before the incident involving the massacre and the cult. The story picks up at its original pace...until some 3 years later, O!Ciel gets a letter from a nearby count, requesting to pay him a visit. He agrees and...low and behold, standing on his doorstep is none other than Alois Trancy.

SO!!!! I have a lot of ideas for this!! Specifically about the boys reuniting and, maybe, Ciel having an innocent little-kid crush on "Jim" back when they were children. Since Ciel is so emotionally suppressed, the only way I can imagine him forming a romantic bond is if the feelings were actually pre-established from before his trauma. Before I realized I was gay, I used to stare at the girls (I'm generally a bit more sapphic leaning, agender nonbinary people lets go!) in my 4th-5th grade classes and think about how their faces were so pretty and "perfect" so I was thinking something kind of similar to that ("wow this peasant boy looks like he could model for paintings...anyway").

Also! Claude and Sebastian are just side-eyeing each other throughout this entire thing HAH

[fuck-you-official]

fuck you dad. fuck you for everything. fuck you for ruining my life. fuck you for being such a good respectable man when we all knew who you were. especially me and you. the both of us know that that facade is faker than the love you pretended to have for both me and mom. you only cared about yourself, and when something bad did actually happen to you, when your mother died and you expected us all to coddle you. the rest of them might've cared, but I didn't. not after the trauma you gave me at such a young age, i couldn't even process it and whether it was a dream or if you knew i wouldn't be able to differentiate that memory if it was real or not. id say fuck you to my mom for never noticing, but i've forgiven her. unlike you, she had something to grow and change from. you could only abuse the ones you love and say nothing or even deny it. she accepted her mistakes and knew she did something wrong but we all know that even if you did that for once in your life, who would ever forgive someone, even less someone they were supposed to love and trust, for ruining me and defiling me, selling my body out just to get yourself kicking. god save my mothers gut-wrenched soul for the fact that you manipulated her into making her believe every slippery lie that fell off your tongue, every excuse that you came up for yourself, every pin and pointing finger you threw at me to blame me. i love my mother so dearly, the fact that you would get angry at her for your own faults and whine like a man baby when she called you out on it makes me want you to take a nice visit to the ninth circle of hell. the years its taken me (and still taking me) to recover from your abuse. i can't ask for help easily, i can't speak up about my interests or thoughts without thinking of how people might think, i can barely stand in the same room next to an older man around your age without wanting to cry or shutdown. my mom can't even bring a man shes been talking to into the house without me shutting myself away and wanting him to leave. i love reading, but god forbid i try to imagine the image of big, rough, course hands without thinking that they were yours. you made me begin to form insecurities at the age of 6. i thought i was so ugly and weird because thats what daddy told me. you sexualized me so much, i began to question whether that was normal for most families. i asked friends at school, essentially asking "hey guys, does your dad tell you you're chest is growing in so well already or is that just me" and they were fucking concerned, and i didn't know better so i thought they were just judgemental. i thought everyone wrestled with their dad and tickled eachother and even did a little gropin here and there, hell everyone knows that tradition! /s

it's been 3 years since i moved. im forgetting your face, but im also forgetting my stepbrothers faces too. they were the one thing i loved about living there, i miss them both, and the fact you ruined my life to where i can never see them again makes me realize how much of a selfish prick you are. i hope all the fat in your body doesn't add fuel for the flames of hell you'll burn in. I've far moved on from the chapter of my life that had you in it, but are you ever really able to move on from an imprinted image in your mind that haunts you occasionally, reminding you why you're like this, telling you that you're the reason for both the cause and effect of your trauma? not really. when court decides to get off their ass and actually plan the court date for your charges, I will be there. and I'll be the last, sweet image you see before your soap dropping, bitch boy days in a cell. and when you die, ill cremate you so i can roll you into a joint and smoke you.

sincerely, the kid you never bothered to respect.

p.s wait till you find out how nicely they treat child predators in jail.

.

[abugeatbugworld]

Falling, Part One

part two

written with my friend @whiteswarmart in mind. this first part is more dot and flik-centric, but don't worry, you'll see more of dim in part two <3

also included a little nod to @little-piojo's headcanon about flik's hands because i just love that 🥺

“So when did you start flying?”

All eyes are on Dot as everyone waits for her to answer Flik’s question. She loves being in the spotlight, especially when her audience is a bunch of performers.

“Well,” she begins, spreading her fingers in a dramatic flourish. “The grasshoppers came to get their food and Hopper wasn’t happy, so me and the Blueberries went to hide in the clubhouse. That’s when I heard two of them talking about the plan to squish my mom, so I decided to go get help. But when I left, I ran into…into…”

Her pause is broken by a muffled cry from P.T. Flea, who hangs from the ceiling in a cocoon of Rosie’s web. Dot swallows, kneading her hands together as she tries to form her jumbled pieces of memory into a coherent story. The room is suddenly too hot and too quiet.

What was the question again? ‘When did you start flying?’

When I had to, or else I would have died.

Flik sees it immediately, the panic Dot can hide from everyone but him. A crease appears in his temple. He crosses through the sea of circus bugs surrounding her, then kneels down so their pupils are parallel and folds her hands into his. She can feel the calluses on his palms, battle scars from late nights in his workshop.

“Dot, what’s wrong?” he whispers, like they’re the only two in this crowded wagon. “What happened?”

What happened?

She remembers running without knowing where she was going or who she was going to. She just knows that she has to tell someone else the words she wasn’t supposed to hear. They’re going to kill my mom.

Flik’s name has barely crossed her mind when she slams into a leg that wasn’t there before. Dot looks up into the eyes of the monster that has visited her dreams every night since the day she came so close she could feel the hot breath on her face and see his jagged teeth gleaming with spit. And here she is again, feeling the breath and seeing the spit dangling above her, and this time Flik is not here but Hopper isn’t either. There are no fingers wrapped around her middle or spiked nails pressing into her side, anchoring her within reach of those teeth.

So she runs.

The monster makes a grab for her and misses as she darts between the legs blocking her path. Everything after this moment blurs together. She remembers her heart beating loud in her antennae, her breath slicing her chest like cactus needles with every step. She remembers gray and green and a long slide down a blade of grass.

At some point during their chase Dot hurts the monster. She doesn’t know how it happened, but she hears his screams behind her and finds herself feeling a little bit sorry even as she keeps running.

Dot suddenly becomes aware of Flik’s eyes on her as he rubs the smallest of circles into the flesh beneath her knuckles. When did her hands start to shake?

The other bugs are watching her too, unsure how to help something that a joke or magic trick can’t fix. They have never seen middle-of-the-night, post-bad-dream Dot. They have never held her to their chest while she sobs herself back to a sleep that will only wake the nightmares up again.

But Flik has. He knows this Dot well.

“Take your time, Dot,” he murmurs, lifting his finger to catch a tear she hadn’t realized was falling. “Tell me about the monsters.”

She’s stuck at the edge of that cliff, staring down at the fog hiding the cracked riverbed miles below her. It’s the place where she watched Flik sail away on a dandelion, cheering him on even as her heart sank because she knew he would be too far away to fight off the nightmares. It’s the same place she sailed away on her own dandelion, only this was an accident and it almost carried her right into the mouth of a big red monster with wings that worked.

And now she’s here again and a different monster is coming and she’s pumping her wings and pleading with them to work and then her toes leave the ground and maybe just maybe she’s really going to fly this time —

— and then Dot hears the sound she hears every night in her dreams and the monster is here and he’s reaching for her and her foot is slipping and then she’s

falling

falling

falling.

Dot tries to remind herself the monster doesn’t win this time. The fact that she’s here is proof that her story ends in flight.

But right now, all she can remember is the fall.

“It was Thumper,” she finally says, staring down at her toes. Flik’s grip on her hands tightens. “He chased me and pushed me off the cliff.”

There’s a collective gasp from the bugs around them, punctuated by a roar that shakes the cardboard walls. P.T.’s cocoon swings wildly from the ceiling. Everyone turns to see Dim, who until this point has been trailing quietly behind the wagon, stamping his feet and tossing his head with rage.

“Nobody pushes my little sister off a cliff,” he snarls.

Dot giggles at this. She then turns back to Flik, who releases one of her hands so he can cup her cheek in his. The look in his eyes breaks her heart. She leans into his palm and lets another tear fall, hearing the words he doesn’t say.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there to keep you safe.

Dot reaches her own hand out and spreads her fingers across his cheek so they mirror each other. He smiles at this, and she smiles back.

“You can’t save me from all the monsters, Flik,” she says. “And besides…”

She leaps into the air, wings buzzing gloriously behind her as she floats above the proud gazes of her friends.

“This one taught me how to fly.”

Flik laughs for the first time since Dot got here. She’d forgotten how much she loved that sound.

“He sure did,” he says, then reaches his hands towards her. She tumbles safely into his arms and he carries her over to the yellow stick that lines that wall of the wagon, which Manny informed her is something called a “pen-sill” that humans use to write with. They sit down, Dot nestling comfortably into his lap.

The circus bugs seem to sense that this is a private moment. Francis clears his throat and mentions something about checking on a loose wheel. Heimlich rubs his stomach and declares that if he doesn’t find some leaves to eat soon he’s going to faint on the spot. The rest of them come up with various excuses to vacate the wagon, and soon the two ants are the only ones left.

Except for P.T., of course.

It’s quiet for a few minutes. Dot rests her head against Flik’s chest, suddenly aware of how tired she is. They have a long day of traveling ahead if they want to make it back to the anthill by nightfall, and now that their plans are made there isn’t much to do except sleep and wait.

Dot’s eyelids are just starting to flutter when she feels a soft tap on her nose. She looks up to see Flik smiling down at her. “You’re the toughest little seed I’ve ever met, you know that?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Don’t you mean rock?”

He chuckles. “Touché.” 

They turn to look at the pebble she’d found earlier that evening, a reminder to them both that growth comes slowly. Afterwards they’d tried to explain the metaphor to the confused circus bugs, but they were too hung up on the rock to see the bigger picture.

That was okay with Dot. It took her a while, too. And she kind of likes that it’s her and Flik’s secret.

Flik clears his throat and she turns back to him. He jerks his head towards the wagon’s opening, where Dim is still following behind them. The beetle’s eyes are narrowed at the ground and he’s muttering angrily to himself. Rosie is perched on the crown of his head, speaking softly into his antennae and stroking the tip of his nose.

“Maybe you should go talk to him,” Flik murmurs. “Before he decides to turn around and try to take on the whole grasshopper gang himself.”

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

WIP Treeskel? 👀

Treeskel is a Jaskel (with background Yenralt) season 2 fix-it fic where Eskel realizes what's happening right before he turns into a leshen and flees into the woods, where he spends the rest of his winter tearing apart all the various beasties that Voleth Meir sends after Ciri and Geralt.

After Yennefer and Jaskier come to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier feels out of place and unmoored without his lute. He tries to sneak away one morning, immediately runs afoul of a wyvern, and gets saved by a leshen. He strikes up a friendship with the leshen, who he quickly realizes is Geralt's presumed-dead brother. Eskel doesn't want the witchers to know he's alive, so Jaskier visits him in secret while striking up a friendship with Yennefer, repairing his friendship with Geralt, and trying to get the two of them to fix things with each other.

Snippet below the cut!

With a sigh, Eskel turns to face the bard and finds a pair of enormous blue eyes peering at him from the shield of roots he threw up around the human to keep him safe during the battle. The bard crouches there, gripping the roots—which is a strange sensation, almost like he’s touching Eskel himself—and watching Eskel’s approach with terror.

“Oh, gods,” the bard says, a waver in his voice. “Oh, fuck.” 

Eskel is used to humans being afraid of him, was long before he was turned into this. He tries to speak, but it’s been months since he said a word and his throat is filled with bark. What comes out is a gravely noise that sounds more like a growl than a greeting. The terror scent in the air sharpens.

“Listen.” The bard’s lips twist into something that’s probably supposed to be a smile, but his mouth is trembling. “If you’re going to kill me, may I ask that you do me the courtesy of just snapping my spine? I would very much prefer not to be alive when the rending of flesh starts, if it’s all the same to you.”

Eskel tries to speak again. The raspy noise he makes at least sounds somewhat human. He lets the roots caging in the bard fall away, expecting that to reassure him that Eskel has no intention of keeping him trapped. Instead, the panic scent only thickens in the air. The bard attempts to scramble to his feet, crying out as soon as he puts pressure on his left foot. He drops back down to the ground, shoulders heaving.

One look at his swollen ankle tells Eskel that it’s broken. Fuck, the bard won’t be getting up or down the mountain without help and they’re too far from Kaer Morhen for someone to hear him shout for help. Eskel won’t be able to leave him here.

Eskel takes a step towards him and the bard’s eyes go even wider, nearly popping out of his head. He tries to stand again, and one of Eskel’s roots shoots out of its own volition, pushing him back to the ground before he can hurt himself. His touch causes the bard to recoil, hands coming up to protect his face.

“Oh, Lebioda’s saintly nipples,” the bard whispers. “Oh, gods, no. Please, no.”

Geralt rarely mentioned his bard by name. He spent years trying to act like he didn’t give a shit about the kid, even after they’d traveled together for years. Either way, he was always “the bard” or when he was occasionally feeling sentimental, “my bard.”

A memory comes to Eskel, sudden and overpowering.

Geralt, turning the worst fucking sword Eskel had ever seen in his life over in his hands, looking sheepish. “My swords got stolen in Kerack. Fucking bard spent every crown he had getting them replaced.”

Eskel shook his head. “This sword couldn’t kill a fucking kitten, Wolf.”

“Well aware, but I couldn’t tell him that. He was so proud of them.”

“So you carried around a useless pair of swords rather than hurt your bard’s feelings?”

Geralt sighed. “He had them inscribed, Esk. What the fuck was I supposed to do?”

Eskel took the sword from Geralt, looking down at the inscription on the silver blade. Outloud, he read, “My dear witcher, now I’ll always be with you in battle, even when you make me stay at the inn. Your very best friend in the whole wide world, Jaskier.”

“Jaskier.” It’s the first word he’s uttered since the night he turned into a leshen. It scrapes out of his throat like a razor blade.

Ask me about my WIPs!