#what a fucking idiot. all he had to do was get on meds & in therapy & admit he was wrong & he could have stayed with us
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people often assume when we all go out together that I'm my half brothers mom (I'm 20 years older than him) & that his parents are his grandparents & it's so funny bc I know it bothers them. old ass idiots
#my dad was 49 & his wife was 45 when they had him#the story behind his birth is actually extremely fucked up like everything else about their relationship#so my dad left her like a million times to try to go back to my mom (who kept telling him no unless he sorted out his issues) then he#would always run right back to her & she always took him back. anyways i guess he said smth along the lines of#''my wife (he was still married to my mom) will always be the love of my life bc shes the mother of my kids''#and...she went off bc & on fertility treatments without telling him. then shes pregnant & he is still saying he wants to come back to us#so she said he will never see their kid & her son from a previous marraige THREATENED MY DAD AT GUNPOINT#and said if you ever leave my mom again ill fucking kill yoi#so then the divorce was finalized & they got married & my half brother was born. rest is history#for the record i dont feel sorry for my dad at all it was his fault too. the fucking hypocrite was having sex before marriage#and he knew she was nuts & far too attached to her#what a fucking idiot. all he had to do was get on meds & in therapy & admit he was wrong & he could have stayed with us#but he needed constant validation & to be in charge of everything & thats what his new wife gives him. she converted to his cult & now they#raise my brother in it. and she just does whatever my dad wants & lets him treat her like shit. i would actually feel sorry for her if sh#if she werent such a fucking awful person. and she tries to be all nicey nice w/us despite being a literal homewrecker.#and doing things like telling my dad he cant spend more than 50 dollars per year on each of us#while having him buy her a third car & a 1500 dollar fur coat. lol#theyre so much better off financially than us that its unreal. my mom doesnt get a penny despite how much we are struggling#but if i want a relationship with my half brother i just have to pretend none of this is weird or wrong.#anyways i just hope he never finds out the circumstances of his birth bc god can you fucking imagine
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My newest project: These Bitches Need Therapy: Westeros Edition. Specifically the Dance of Dragons era.
A/N-This is meant for a female reader, but make the names whatever you want. You’re also 18 because its hotd and shit happens. The italics are you thinking. I own nothing.
CW: swearing, mentions of blood, death, and everything else that comes with medieval life
Part 1: Why me?!
“That was a fucking trip,” you say, turning off the newest episode of House of the Dragon.
If Viserys was my dad, I would’ve ripped him a new one. Who would allow their laboring wife to be cut open with no pain meds? All of is was for nothing and Aemma and their son died anyway.
And he marries his daughter’s best friend? This bitch is doing himself no favors, especially if he and Alicent have any sons. Rhaenyra’s claim to the Iron Throne would be challenged and if I remember the book correctly, would spark a bloody civil war.
I blame Jaehaerys for choosing Viserys over Rhaenys and I blame Otto Hightower for being a scheming, power hungry schlub. That being said, the episode was amazing. I can’t wait for the next one.
You get ready for the night and go to sleep with dragons and high born idiots filling your dreams.
————————–———————————————
the universe said: And I took that personally.
———————————————————————
You wake up sitting on the ground against the wall of a building, likely a butcher’s due to the smell of blood and meat coming from it. Two men in gold cloaks and armor walk past you and send a confused and disdainful glance your way.
Gold cloaks? Armor? Wait a minute.
You stand up and lean against the butcher’s, taking in your surroundings. People and horse drawn carts were moving at varying speeds down the thin pathways and dirt roads in front of you. They were in clothes that you had only seen in period shows and movies. Speaking of period shows, the smell was certainly accurate. The scent of excrement, both human and animal, was strong and nearly made you gag.
You look down and see that your dressed in the clothes you had been wearing before you sat down to watch House of the Dragon. Wait…
I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming. There is no way that I woke up in Westeros and in Flea Botttom no less. I’m definitely going to die, if not from disease or starvation or murder then from the fucking civil war that these aristocratic idiots will start in the future!
You reach into your jeans and find a piece of paper crumpled up in your front right pocket. It reads:
‘Dear (Y/N) (L/N),
You may be wondering why you are here. It is because you have knowledge that will be useful in these coming years. The future you have seen will come to fruition and many will die unless you do something. This was not done by accident. You have been given great power that can make or break kings and queens. Look in the bag next to you and find the small leather journal. Within it contains intimate knowledge and instructions that will help you in your assignment. The bag itself is magic and contains objects that may be useful to you depending on the situation you find yourself in. I realize that this is the last place that you want to be, but you are the only one who can help these people. They need an outside and frankly, modern perspective, especially the royal family. I will talk to you through the journal everyday to assist you. Just write the questions you have down at night in the back of the journal and they will be answered when you wake up.
Best of luck,
Lucia, Mistress of Fate’
What the actual fuck?
You notice the brown messenger bag. Fuming, you reach inside and find the leather journal along with a black hooded cloak, a ballpoint pen, a drawstring coin purse, and a sheathed knife. You open the journal and flip to the front page.
‘Make your way to the Red Keep and keep a low profile.’
This is so stupid! Why should I have to risk my life and conform to these inbred fucks? I should be in my bed, in my house, and in my time period. I shouldn’t be here because some lady wants to play God and throw me into this medieval hellscape. But, I’m going to die anyway so I might as well make my time interesting.
You pull on the cloak and draw up the hood. Better for these people not to see the sweatshirt, tank top, jeans, and sneaker combo right away. You sling the messenger bag over your shoulder and make your way over to the line in front of a food stall. The woman at the counter was selling skewers of meat, peppers, and onions. Food was food, so you get out the coin purse. You glance up and see a man looking at you in an unidentifiable, yet unsettling way. You take out the knife and attach the sheath to the loops of your jeans.
It’s your turn after five people. The woman looks confused at your clothes and opens her mouth to question who the hell you were, but shuts up at the copper coin you place on the counter of her stall and hands you a skewer. You silently nod your thanks and walk across the dirt road to a bench outside of what looks like a bakery, being mindful of the horse carts.
Biting into a pepper, you open the journal to the first page again. It says the same thing. You might as well get to walking. The Red Keep is a long way from where you are now.
————————baby timeskip————————
You’re panting by the time you get the to the Sept. You lean back on the outside of the Sept, grateful for the cool marble against your flushed, sweaty skin.
You look back up and see the Red Keep in the distance. With a huff, you push off the wall and stand upright to start walking again.
And not even a minute into the long walk to the keep, a slender body collides into you. Both you of you fall back in opposite directions; you into a pile of cabbage and the stranger, a girl after you looked closely, into the dirt road. A horse was galloping fast toward her, its hooves in the perfect position to cave in her skull. The rider wasn’t paying attention as he was more focused on trying to bring his mount back under control.
Welp. I guess I can cross ‘save someone’ off on my bucket list.
You scramble towards the girl and yank her off the ground by the forearms; apparently you pulled too hard since she cried out in pain. Her cry alerted some guards in the near vicinity. The guards had a sigil emblazoned on their armor, some kind of tower. However, you didn’t stop to dwell on it as you were busy trying to get the fuck away from them.
It didn’t take them long to catch up with you. They seized your elbows and hauled you the rest of the way to the Red Keep, likely to the dungeons for seemingly attacking a highborn girl.
So much for keeping a low profile.
——————time skip because I’m lazy————
You get tossed into a dark cell; your belongings had been taken from you, save for the journal. Minutes blur together as you wondered if this would be the way you died. At least your sweatshirt provides some warmth.
All of a sudden, the cell door bursts in and an armored guard stands in the doorway holding a flickering torch. You raise a hand to shield your eyes against the flames.
“On ya feet, woman. Can’t ‘ave ya late to ya own trial,” he said with a rotted sneer.
He fastened chains akin to handcuffs to your wrists and pulled you up to stand by your shoulder. He then grabs the chain connecting the chains and pulls you along behind him up the stairs.
While walking, you think back to the sigil on the guards’ armor.
A tower. Tower. Tower… A high tower? Yes, Hightower! Wait…a Hightower? Oh fuck me…
Your fears were confirmed when the guard left you in front of the man himself. Lord Otto of House Hightower, Hand of the King to King Viserys of House Targaryen, King of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, looked down on you with a well deserved glower from a cushioned stool. The king himself sat on the Iron Throne with a similar look.
And the girl you pulled out of the road is standing a little ways from them with some other ladies, Queen Aemma and Princess Rhaenyra among them, with an uncertain expression on her face. A girl you now recognize as Lady Alicent of House Hightower, daughter of the Hand, and future Queen Consort to King Viserys.
Lucia, if I lose my fucking head, I will find you and kill you, slowly.
A/N- If this gets 80+ notes, I’ll write a second part. Also, my inbox is open. Ask me things!
#newfic#house of the dragon#hotd season 1#self insert#y/n#dream travel#hotd rp#hotd x reader#young rhaenyra#rhaenyra targaryen#viserys targaryen#otto hightower#viserys x aemma#aemma targaryen#alicent hightower#young alicent#alicent x viserys#game of thrones#westeros#kings landing#shit hits the fan
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Unhinged S2 theories
Okay let’s get unhinged for a second. And take this to logical conclusions.
https://www.tumblr.com/misty-caligula/716477558946971648/this-is-my-big-one-for-s2e6-and-its-the-thing
I’ve already talked (a lot) about how I genuinely believe that someone is manipulating Lott, and that she’s been secretly taken off her meds.
So who? And why? At this point I’m leaning towards a theory that the cult is becoming self-aware, and is actively growing outside of Lott’s direction. I think there’s a inner circle below her (I think Lisa might be in it, I think that drum circle guy from ep6 is in it) that’s started to plot and scheme, that’s maybe more aware of Lott’s situation than we think, and is actively trying to push her to become the antler queen once more.
Do they NEED to know about what happened in the wild? No. Not necessarily. She could just be... an inspiring, powerful person they feel is not living up to her potential.
Or...
Did she blab? Did she break the oath? Did someone get access to her psych notes? Did someone learn things she’s said in therapy? Did she talk about specifics? While she was in Switzerland?
Or...
Did Adam ACTUALLY get more access to Shauna than we think? Was it a big misdirect to have Jeff blackmailing them... to cover the fact that Adam was genuinely a plant? DID HE ACTUALLY GET ACCESS TO HER DIARIES and we just ASSUMED it was Jeff???
Is moustache cop an incompetent idiot? Or .... is he not trying to get a conviction? Is he just trying to get into Shauna’s head? Is HE a plant??
Is WALTER a citizen detective who just wants to learn things about stuff...? OR is he a plant, a perfect connection for Misty, down to the showtunes.
THE SHOWTUNES THO okay so follow with me... Misty INSTANTLY picks up on the showtunes.
Misty’s SO sus on Walter from the first moment she sees him. She doesn’t miss much when it comes to like, facts and stuff, and she clocks him the moment she HEARS his voice. And he’s OBSESSED with her (like Adam’s obsessed with Shauna!) and okay so they’re so similar, so weirdly in tune, but Misty is uncomfortable because she doesn’t click with similar. The last time she did Crystal died.
Then they’re in the car and he brings out the showtunes and Misty smells a rat. She IMMEDIATELY clocks that he knows her too well, it’s just too much, too fast, and too big of a coincidence. And he tells her that he just really likes showtunes, it’s all just a misunderstanding, and she goes “Well I don’t even LIKE showtunes” and he CALLS HER BLUFF AND THEN SHOWS HER ONE HE KNOWS SHE WON’T LIKE.
HOW DOES HE KNOW??
It comes off as a good read, as a fun moment, but HE KNOWS HER TOO WELL AND SHE KNEW IT!
“Being a yellowjacket’s the least interesting thing about you” he says HE’S LYING HE’S A CITIZEN DETECTIVE, IT’S AN INCREDIBLY INTERESTING THING ABOUT HER!
“It was like 30 years ago” HE’S LYING HE’S A CITIZEN DETECTIVE HE DOESN’T MAKE THESE KINDS OF ERRORS, HE KNOWS IT WAS EXACTLY 25 YEARS AGO!!!!
And then and then he’s like, sending her messages after she’s already told him to go away which ISN’T LIKE HIM he didn’t even argue when she told him to fuck off AND the drum circle guy is like, PUSHING IT he’s like “Hmmmmm had a breakup??? hmmm?? what about that walter guy? hmmmm??” and like... as SOON as she mentions Nat they’re like “YOU KNOW NAT?? Please, tell us every tiny detail you know about this woman while we sit here and listen intently.”
*takes a breath*
I feel like I’m going mad. There’s too many data points and too many unanswered questions. Too many coincidences. And I think... that that is the point.
In the teen timeline nothing is as it seems, there is no solid grounding. You’re meant to be able to slip whatever your interpretation is onto the top of it, you’re meant to have your expectations both met and refuted all at once. You’re meant to question your own reality.
I mean....
Laura was ALWAYS going to die in that plane, right? Right? Then why did we think she wouldn’t?
The baby was NEVER going to make it. Right? Then why did we allow them to give us half an ep where we really thought it had?
Jackie was ALWAYS going to die and there were people who 100% were waiting for some twist to save her til the moment they ate her.
This show is just really really good at making us question what’s right in front of us in the teen timeline.
Why ... the hell... would we expect different in the adult? Why WOULD it be all just normal and easily explained coincidences? Why would it be just trauma responses and nothing more? Why CAN’T it be a malicious conspiracy? But then.. why WOULD it be a malicious conspiracy? Neither makes total sense, neither perfectly fits, I feel like we’re missing key information. And I don’t know about you, but it’s making ME feel paranoid. And I honestly think that’s the point.
Maybe the cult really IS a dangerous thing that’s going out of its’ way to destroy them all. Maybe its trying to bring back the antler queen, maybe Lisa is evil, maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe...
Or maybe it’s just putting 1+1 together and having trauma add another 1 without realising and getting 3. Because that’s the REAL shit, that’s the nightmare of being un-fun mentally ill, is that once you stop being 100% confident of your ability to perceive things accurately you’ll never get that certainty back. You’ll never trust another thing you think or feel ever again, and the moment you stop questioning your world it’ll make you panic and worry you’re missing something... Ask me how i know.
At this point I’m going to just say I do not know what’s Really Going On with the cult. I am 100% confident that Lott’s being manipulated. Beyond that? ... all I have is vibes and ideas and feeling adrift. I’m so impressed at this show for managing to throw me this hard and I’m unbelievably curious to see what else it has to offer.
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I’m so exhausted. This is long af.
Too long; don’t want to read: My dad ruined the weekend for me and my mom. I had an amazing night Monday with my boyfriend.
It’s was such a long weekend. My parents made the decision to stay an extra day, though I had plans and was out of town yesterday so they only got to see me for like 2 hours, so they just left this morning.
A little recap of the weekend. My mom was fine. Surprisingly not as many comments about my weight or appearance as usually. I’m always prepared for her own obsession with appearance (specifically weight) to come up — and usually this happens with comments about what I’m eating or drinking. That only happened once this weekend. Other than that my mom was fine. We would go shopping together and purposely bring their dog with us so that my dad would have to stay in the car and watch her while we shopped. Because my father is an asshole all the time. Like.. 24/7.. he’s just the last person anyone wants to be around for more than 5 or 10 minutes at a time.
My dad on the other hand :/ He’s never happy about anything. Like he literally complained about every single meal and every single place we went. He kept making inappropriate and insulting remarks about every single stranger he saw. He’s just a terrible person. He’s always harping on about how I never graduated high school. I am 31 years old, y’all. I left HS in 2007! He still hasn’t let this go. He’s also a fucking idiot. He thinks that the reason I can’t get into another apartment is because…. I didn’t graduate high school… 15 years ago… (he doesn’t understand how literally anything related to finances work, bc my mom has treated him like a child for the last 35 years and she’s done everything but wipe his ass for him). Then there were all the comments about how trashy, dirty, ghetto, and shitty my apartment is (and .. yes my apartment isn’t the best lol— but it’s not dirty or trashy). He called me “fat” about a dozen times. Everything I ate, to him, was unhealthy, fattening, full of sugar, greasy, or “junk.” Despite the fact that the only time they saw me eat was when I had a meal with them… the same meals they were eating too.
On Sunday I went with them for breakfast and I didn’t realize the french toast I ordered was made with milk. I’m lactose intolerant. So it made my stomach hurt really bad and I felt awful the entire rest of the day. Well my dad doesn’t understand what lactose intolerance is, actually— he thinks it’s made up (he also thinks every medical condition I have is made up, unless he or my mom have it.. then it’s real.. but I’m lying about it if I have it.. sooo) — so he spent the entire rest of the day (that I was with them) telling me how I was sick because I’m fat and I eat too much greasy junk food. He kept telling me I need to lose weight over and over again. He does this stupid shit to my mom too and I know it’s made her disordered eating even worse.
And I don’t know how to explain (to y’all) that I am not really “fat” without it seeming like I’m offended to be called “fat.” I just need people to understand just how much my father is a delusional fucking asshole. He says these things to me because he’s mean. Not because I’m actually fat. I [now] wear a juniors XL (and a women’s med/large) since I’ve lost a little bit of weight since this summer (stress related mostly)… but if you asked my father he’d tell you I was a “fat unhealthy whale.” Btw my parents are actually fat. Like, they’re plus sized people. And there is nothing wrong with that, and I would never comment about their weight in a negative way BUT damn.. the projecting they do onto others. They’re always making the rudest comments about people’s weight. And I really want to say “y’all are fat too, stop projecting and go to fucking therapy.”
Every time they come visit I need like 2 weeks to recover. They (mostly my father) seem like they’re dead set on re-traumatizing me every time I see them. And now they’re moving here. Yep. He’s retiring and moving here in the spring of 2023. My mom says she’s getting up there in age and wants to be close to me. Idk if I’ll be able to put up with this shit all the time. The 360+ miles between us is how they’ve managed to avoid me going “no contact” with them. Since my dad is deaf (and he doesn’t have my number to text me) I only speak to him 1-2 times a year when they visit. I won’t let them bully me or guilt trip me into letting them be more involved in my life if it means they’re gonna emotionally abuse me again. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that.
On a brighter note: My boyfriend took me to see RAW live last night and we had an amazing time! It was so much fun. We ate really expensive food (it was $13 for 3 chicken tenders and a few fries! Omg lol) and I screamed so much my voice is all crackly today lol. It was a great time. He’s already planning to take me to a comedy show in December.
And now I’m catching up on orders I’m behind on because of my parents visiting.
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— ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ dirty valentine
☾ parings: adrian chase/vigilante x fem!reader
☾ summary: It has been fourteen months since you and Adrian Chase divorced. The divorce was sudden, and left both parties an emotional wreck. You were not a mentally stable girl. Everyone in town knows this. From your mental breakdown in the Albertsons to the multiple rehab visits, you were know as the towns crazy girl. No one knew exactly what was wrong with you, everyone had their own diagnosis — schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, psychosis. Whatever it was, Adrian Chase was the only one who could see you for what you truly were in his own, not mentally stable, way. You were perfect together. You cared and loved each other regardless of your own mental states. So maybe the divorce should have been seen from a mile away. No one knows exactly what caused the divorce, but it was filed fourteen hours after a domestic disturbance call was reported at your apartment. So, now, fourteen months later, and you are in the worst mental state of your life. You loved your husband, you really did, but sometimes he was so idiotic and could never fully see you. After the messy breakup, in which you stabbed Adrian with a steak knife in the arm, you weren't speaking to each other. Months with no contact, you begin craving Adrian Chase again. So, you do the only thing that can get Adrian's attention. You kill for him. You leave bodies in alleyways of his potential victims and always leaves a card — signed, your dearly beloved. Adrian refuses to give you the time of day, because why? He found himself a brand new girlfriend. Someone he works with, on Task Force X, and someone who won't stab him with a steak knife because he forgot to grab her meds from the pharmacy. So, he ignores your desperate cries for attention and pretends like these murders aren't happening. Obviously, the answer is clear. Your next plan? Kill his new girlfriend.
☾ warnings: mentions of suicide, graphic depictions of suicide attempts, graphic depictions of blood and murder, mentions of schizophrenia and medication, mentions of divorce, cheating on partner, depictions of domestic violence, & fucked up people being fucked up together. 18+ minors dni (i think that’s everything, if i forgot something please let me know!!)
☾ authors note: ahhh here’s the first chapter!! i’m honestly obsessed with this story and love the idea of adrian marrying someone who is… equally fucked up and horrible. anyways, i hope you all like it!
masterlist ☾ requests/talk to me
CHAPTER ONE, ACT ONE: Come Home, The Kids Miss You.
You haven't been doing well, recently. It's been one year, two months, thirteen days, and seventeen hours since you and Adrian divorced (not that you have been counting). You haven't seen him since. Not at the grocery store, not when you passed by Fennel Fields on your way home from therapy, and not even a word of Vigilante in the news. The divorce — well, it was kind of your fault — was messy. A long court battle where you were awarded alimony due to your medical conditions not allowing you to work. So, it was clear Adrian was pissed at you. Holding this ever looming presence of invisibility over your head. He knew you missed him and you knew he missed you — no matter what he says, deep down, you know Adrian misses you just as much. Anyone who knew you and Adrian knew that they were meant for each other. It was clear. They were both a little insane, but had big hearts that just wanted to be loved. So, they found love in each other. And it was beautiful. A beautiful love affair that ended in a bloody battle — how typical.
You had been diagnosed with schizophrenia at the age of fourteen. It was a genetic disease that your mother had given you (the only the that woman gave to you before she killed herself). It slowly got worse over time, leaving to mental breakdowns in grocery stores and you waking up in the woods covered in blood. Adrian, who wasn't always the most understanding person in the world, cared for you and loved you like you weren't sick. Maybe that was the downfall of their relationship. Adrian didn't know how to love someone like you, and all you wanted was to be held — something else Adrian had trouble doing. Since the divorce, it had only gotten worse for you. Your schizophrenia, which was usually tamed by various medications, was at an all time high. Four months after the divorce, you accidentally slit your wrists during a schizophrenic episode and ended up in the hospital for a week. They called your emergency contact — which was Adrian. He never came.
The killings however, only started until recently. One night in November when your homicidal tendencies were at all time high, you murdered a man on your way home from therapy — how ironic, you know. You don't remember why — or how — you murdered this man. It was all kind of clipped out of your brain like a corrupted drive. All you remembered was seeing a man exchange money with a boy in an alleyway, and next thing you know, you are standing over his body in an alleyway, blood dripping from the victim's pocketknife. Which led you to an idea. An idea you conceived in confusion, fear, and a bit of adrenaline. You wrote a note to Adrian. You knew that Adrian would find the body. There is no bigger town gossip than Vigilante. He knew everyone and their business. He'd find this body in two hours — tops. Hours before the police catch wind of a dead drug dealer in an alleyway. So, you left a note for your (ex) husband and walked home like you didn't just kill a man.
The rest, just happened. You felt a certain connection to Adrian while you were leaving surprises for him. You left him these gifts like you were leaving sacrifices at the altar. Like he was your god, and you were giving your prayers. So, you left his notes at every crime scene, knowing he'd read them. Your murderers hadn't gone unnoticed by the police, but they were quick to blame the murders on Vigilante. Who cares about crackheads and criminals dying? The police clearly didn't. You had a conscious, a weird fucked up one, but you did have a conscious. But the guilt you felt from taking another's life was not greater than your love for Adrian. No where near as close. He'd come back to you. He always had. And maybe, once he finally gets over his grudge against you, he will come home.
The last fourteen months have been hell for Adrian Chase. He got divorced, got shot in the kidney and spent two weeks in the hospital, had to get a new kidney, and he missed you. Call him crazy, it's nothing he hasn't heard before, but he missed his ex wife. Yes, you did stab him in the arm, but it's nothing worse than he has already felt and he missed you. He missed your smile, your laugh, and how you loved playing D&D with him. Christopher Smith suggested, after ten months of mopping and a murder spree, that Adrian get a rebound. So, after a string of one night stands and threesomes with Chris, Adrian decided he was ready to date again. Augustine Warren was shy, quiet, and worked with Economos with technical support and was also the teams official doctor. She always sweet to Adrian, and never laughed when the group would make fun of him. So when Adrian asked her out on a date, she accepted. Augustine wasn't aware of the complications of Adrian's ex wife. All that she knew was that Adrian's ex wife was a little crazy and the divorce was messy — how was she suppose to know that Adrian decided to keep the fact that his ex wife was now murdering people in Evergreen.
The first body Adrian found with the note attached — for my dearly beloved — he wanted to vomit. You had done a number on this man. You obviously had never killed a man before, because there was clearly signs of a struggle and the knife marks were jagged and messy. It reminded him of his jagged stitches in his left bicep from the knife that you had lodged there. He almost felt it sting. The man was found next to drug needles and an illegal firearm — at least you were following his code. It wasn't the body that made Adrian want to vomit, it was the note. Covered in blood and barely visible next to the body, Adrian pulled the note off the ground and shoved it in his pocket. The police will think this was another Vigilante murder — Adrian hoped that they would at least — because at the end of the day, Adrian would rather lose everything than to know that you weren't around. He wondered if it was his fault, that you went to such extreme measures to get in contact with Adrian. He wondered if maybe he would have just followed you, that this would have been stopped.
Adrian still was mad at you, however. He holds grudges, and he holds them for a long, long time. Adrian was still pissed that you stabbed him in the fucking arm, and the fact he has to shell out what little money he makes, to you. He loved you, he always will and he knew that, but it didn't stop him for having an everlasting burning fuel of anger in his heart for you.
Augustine and Adrian had been dating for four months at this point. It was nice. It was soft. It's what love was suppose to be like. Providing and caring for one another in harmonious bliss. However, Adrian couldn't pretend like he didn't feel a looming presence of darkness over his relationship with Augustine — the presence of you. It was a dark cloud that hung over their relationship. Something neither of them mentioned, but they both knew. The police were none the wiser with your murderers and blamed them on Vigilante. Augustine never mentioned these deaths — as she didn't necessarily agree with Adrian's methods of handling crime — and Adrian kept all the notes you had left him in a box beneath his bed.
The notes grew in length as the murderers occurred — fifteen now at this point. You would write about your day, and how much you missed Adrian. It was almost like letters. Adrian was conflicted. He knew he should stop you. He knew it is what he had to do, but he couldn't bring himself to even see you (because if he did, Adrian doesn't know if he will be strong enough to not collapse back into old ways). He enjoyed the notes. He enjoyed your ramblings of what you had for breakfast, how you are still clean — even after everything that has happened —, and how you are still taking your meds and seeing your therapist. At least you were still with him, partially.
It was December when he finally saw you again. Adrian was out at night, patrolling the town. It had just snowed a couple nights prior, and the snow was still melting off the ground. He was making his way around a popular drug area — that you used to frequent before you became clean — and was preparing to kill a couple drug dealers, but then he saw you. Your hair glistened in the moonlight and the butchers knife dripped blood onto the pavement. You were wearing his jacket. An old, warm one that Adrian had forgotten he used to own. Adrian was almost frozen on the pavement. Refusing to take a step forward and refusing to take a step back. Frozen at the sight of you. You placed the note on the ground and turned back around to see Vigilante on the opposite end of the alleyway — just looking at you. The knife clattered onto the pavement as it slipped between your fingers and you jumped at the noise. You always scared so easily.
"Adrian." You whispered out, just faint enough for him to hear his name spill out of your beautiful lips as you did many months prior.
Adrian carefully took some strides closer to you, hands placed on his gun at his hip. You closed the gap and she wrapped your arms around his neck. Adrian knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he hugged you back. You smelt like blood and sweat and the lavender perfume you always wear. He could feel you sobbing against his neck and how your body was violently shaking under his touch.
"Bunny. Bunny, look at me." Adrian said, pulling you off of his chest and gripping your small shoulders.
"H-Have you been reading my letters? I-I leave them for you, s-so you know how I am." You said, sniffling and wiping the tears off her face.
"What the fuck are doing? Really? W-why are you killing people?"
A stray tear rolls down her face, "I thought it would bring us together again. I-I'm not doing anything wrong. I-I'm just killing criminals."
Adrian began stroking your hair. He always did this, to calm you down, "I know, but, this isn't you. Y-you don't kill people, Bunny. You aren't like me. You resorted to murder in order to get my attention?"
"Let me see your face. Please. Please, Addy. It's been months, please," You were practically begging and clawing at the bottom of his mask.
Adrian hesitated. The mask was the only buffer he had between himself and you. Without the mask, Adrian didn't know if he could control himself. But your glassy eyes and your small pout made you irresistible. So, he obliged, ripped the mask off and placed his wire glasses over his green eyes.
You smiled so big and Adrian knew it was over for him. He could never resist her smile, "There's my pretty boy."
You brought your hand to his cold cheeks and he just melted against your warm hands. You always ran warmer than him, and he used to call you his personal heater, "I missed you so much, Addy."
"I missed you too, Bunny." You giggled at the nickname you missed so dearly. They stood in the alleyway, the dead body that you had just murdered only inches away, and stared into each other's eyes. Holding each other and reminiscing on happier times.
"I'm always going to love you, Adrian."
"I know. I-I'll always love you, too." You made the first attack to Adrian's lips. Adrian, against his better judgment, immediately kissed you back and it felt like four years ago when they were happy. It felt like those days where you and Adrian would spend all day in bed, just kissing and talking and having sex. Adrian couldn't deny that he felt something greater than when he kissed Augustine. Shit. Augustine. Adrian's eyes widened and broke the kiss off.
"C-Can we be together again? I-I miss you so much and I'm so sorry I stabbed you. I-I didn't mean it, you have to know I don't want to hurt you. I-I was just off my meds and the v-voices were coming back and—,"
"Bunny, I'm seeing someone else," Adrian turned his head away from you, daring not to see yours eyes diminish and your body tremble.
There was a fire that was lit inside of you that you could no longer ignore. Adrian kissed you. He said that he loved you, but he's still seeing someone else. Your body shook. Not because of your tremors, but because of the jealousy that was growing inside your stomach like a parasite. You did your best to mask the anger. You had been masking your whole life. Pretending to not have an unbridled rage burning inside of you was something you were used to.
"Wha— who?" Your glossy eyes still had that same spark, however love and longing was now exchanged with fury and jealousy.
Adrian still refused to look at you in the eyes. His head darting in every direction but yours, "Some girl I work with."
"Which job?" You knew the answer. You knew exactly what girl he was talking about. Augustine Warren. In the sparse times you had visited the headquarters, you remembered Augustine Warren very clearly. Beautiful red hair, quiet, polite, and the exact opposite of everything you were. Where Augustine was put together, you were a mess. Where Augustine was quiet, you were loud. You remembered times Adrian would mention that Augustine would patch him up on missions, and how your blood would boil at the thought of someone else touching your husband. Of course the only thing standing in your way now, was Augustine.
"Uh, the task force. H-her name is Augustine. The nurse." Adrian still refused to look at you while your heart crumbled and was replaced with fire. In the corner of his eye, he could see a single tear fall from your eyes, and Adrian wanted to run away.
"Oh," was all you said. It was all that you needed to say. Adrian knew that you never really liked Augustine, so the fact he was now dating her, was a crushing blow.
Gunshots were heard from a couple blocks over and Adrian slipped his mask back over his face, "I gotta go. Stop killing people, Bunny!"
Adrian ran off towards the sound of the bullets, as he always did. Running towards every fight like it was a birth right, like those shots were specifically meant for him. Your unbridled rage still hadn't simmered, and without Adrian there, there was no one to stop you from your next plan. You were going to fucking kill Augustine Warren.
#adrian chase#adrian chase x reader#peacemaker#adrian chase x female reader#vigilante#freddie stroma#vigilante x reader#peacemaker hbo max#adrian chase x you
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JJK: Roommates AU
List of all Jungkook fics under 'Roommates' AU:
* s - contains smut
* Last updated: 17/09/2023
D R A B B L E S
[drabble] by joon-ahh
Summary: “I fucking love you.” “Hang up, and tell me this when you’re sober.”
[drabble] by noteguk s camgirl!reader, PWP
[drabble] by ubemango s
Summary: Where u catch roomie!JK watching Overwatch porn.
Ghostly Intervention by army-author
Summary: The ghost that haunts our apartment is tired of watching our failed flirting attempts and has started leaving not-so-subtle hints for us to ‘just get together already!’
Give Me Back My Charger by hollyxqx
Summary: Jungkook is a little shit.
Haste by yoonia college au
Summary: “I wish I could hate you.”
“If you think I don’t feel anything for you, then you’re more stupid than I thought.” by gukyi friends to lovers
In the Frosty Air by gukyi college au
Summary: Two weeks ago you and your roommate slept together. Which would be fine, if you knew you both felt the same about each other. But you don’t. And now it’s Christmas, and Jungkook is still gorgeous and gentle and wonderful and here, and and you don’t really know what to do about that.
Love Me Like You Do by joonsmoonluna friends to lovers
Summary: Jungkook’s always been a little tongue tied around you, but it’s okay, ‘cause so do you.
More Than Friends by delightfulserendipity friends to lovers
Summary: Your bestfriend is completely oblivious to your love for him, and you couldn’t be anymore obvious.
Ours by koostarcandy
Summary: “Go on! Then leave!” + “How mad would you be if I kissed you?”
Red Carnations by persphonesorchid
Summary: Jungkook makes you watch a horror that scared you.
Shirts and Staircases [pt2] by thejooncrew s college au
Summary: Your shirt-stealing escapades come to an auspicious end when your best friend catches you in the act.
The Prettiest Sound by minisugakoobies s
Summary: Jungkook's just heard the prettiest sound in the world.
Your Light [pt2] by hongcherry enemies to lovers
Summary: Being stuck in the dark with your annoying roommate was not ideal, however, maybe it wasn’t so bad in the end.
O N E S H O T S
Anpanman by honeymoonjin s wc~6.6k / friends to lovers, fake dating
Summary: Your best friend Jungkook finally convinces you to seek therapy for your failing mental health. The only catch? The one therapist that’s within your price range is an alternative marriage counsellor, Jung Hoseok, and the only way Jungkook managed to get you an appointment was by saying the two of you were married. Will couples counselling actually be useful for your wellbeing, or will something that runs much deeper rise to the surface instead?
As I Told You by eleventoes wc~9.7k / enemies to lovers
Summary: Jeon Jungkook: junior, rising star quarterback, no.1 on the list of People You Cannot Stand. Also, your new roommate.
Bunnicula by baojinnie wc~5.2k / vampire!reader
Summary: “Do I scare you?”
Caught Me by jeongi s wc~13.5k / enemies to lovers
Summary: You hate your temporary roommate, Jungkook and it doesn’t help that he’s been catching you at the most inconvenient of times.
Cockblocked by mercurygguk s wc~15.8k / friends to lovers
Summary: In which a pair of best friends are hopelessly in love with one another but they’re both too dumb to realize, even when everyone around them are dropping hints every five minutes. Or alternatively; “You’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back.”
Cozy Thief by bratkook s wc~5.1k
Summary: A rainstorm knocking out your power is the small push needed for confessions to come tumbling out.
Days to Morning Glory by sketchguk s wc~20.6k / aspiring rockstar!Jungkook, med student!reader, exes to lovers
Summary: While you had lugged the baggage of your heartbreak and built a life for yourself in the city that never sleeps, Jeongguk had traveled the universe twice, living out of his suitcase before finally settling into the city of angels. But after five years, you both end up returning to your hometown, sharing a house that’s tainted with the memories of your past.
Don't Go by jkstompers wc~3.3k
Summary: You and Jungkook were simply roommates, nothing more than that. No matter how much you wanted to get to know him, Jungkook always left before you were able to get any deeper than two weeks into his past.
Extra Cheese, Please! by vankoya wc~9.5k / friends to lovers
Summary: Jeongguk dislikes three things: 1. Having his Overwatch marathon nights interrupted, 2. Dealing with drunk people while he is sober, and 3. Cheesy ramyeon. His best friend slash housemate slash insufferable crush is the drunk girl with an incessant craving for super cheesy ramyeon who interrupts his Overwatch marathon night, and ultimately proves that the aforementioned meal looks just as gross coming up than it does when it is first in the bowl. Luckily, there is always a silver lining. Even in the worst of situations.
Happy Birthday Loser by jungk0oksthighs s wc~8k / PWP
Summary: After three years of simping over your roommate, you give him one hell of a birthday celebration.
He Loves You, He Loves You Not by yoonpobs s wc~2.7k / angst, roommate!Jungkook, FWB!Seokjin
Heartbreak Trials by dreamyjoons s wc~13.8k
Summary: It all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.
“I can tell you’re stressed, let me fix that.” by solarwonux s wc~3.2k / PWP
“I gotta make sure you get home safe.” by taetaespeaches wc~3k
(I Think) I'd Have a Heart Attack by euphorajeon wc~4.9k / college au
Summary: Having feelings for your roommate is never not complicated, all awkward glances and (not-so) subtle avoidance. After weeks, you think you’ve buried them deep enough for your roommate not to notice. But Jeongguk digs deeper.
It Takes Two by junghelioseok s wc~29.8k / fake dating
Summary: You don’t need retrospect to tell you that dating a coworker was a bad idea. Two months after your breakup, he seems to have moved on to someone new—and quite happily, if his social media is to be believed. Meanwhile, the only new thing in your life is your roommate, Jungkook, who seems nice enough. Just nice enough to coax into coming to your company’s annual holiday party, and more than handsome enough to show off a little bit. Or, as it turns out, a lot.
Lather, Rinse, Repeat by btsrunmylife s wc~3.5k
Summary: Jeon “I’m too lazy to wash myself” Jungkook.
Laundry Day by jinjikook s wc~5k
Summary: Jeongguk always pioneered one household chore: laundry. Now why he had such an affinity for it, you had no idea. That is, until you come home and he lost track of time, causing you to stumble upon him in the midst of something strange and yet altogether intriguing.
Let's Play: Dirty by jungkxook s wc~10k / enemies to lovers
Summary: On today’s stream, watch as the king of gaming Jeon Jungkook gets totally pwned by some newbie player on Overwatch (he swears he was stream sniped)! To make matters worse, he can’t seem to focus anymore when you’re in the room but he promises that’s not because he’s in love with you or anything. Use code ‘jungkook’ on any game purchase through steam at checkout for 25% off so that Jungkook has something to feel better about!
Lucky, Lucky Girl by kth1fics s wc~6.1k / PWP
Summary: The joy of Jungkook having a grand ol’ time with his own personal karaoke night causes you, his roommate, to grow more and more annoyed.
Magic-8 by whatifyoulivelikethat s wc~14.7k
Summary: Jeon Jungkook wants to have sex. No one is surprised. But he has... reasons. Are they good reasons? Debatable. However, there's something in his way. A Magic-8 ball that seems to relish in cock-blocking him. Nah, it says. Hmph, well, guess what, ball? Like a criminal undercover, Jeon Jungkook is going to steal you and then there's no one and nothing to stop him from getting what he needs.
May 31 by jeonjeonggukenergy s wc~5k / college au
Summary: On the last day of your senior year living together, you’re still fighting your feelings for your roommate Jungkook. Before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed
Microwave (Mis)adventures by bymoonchild s wc~20k / enemies to lovers
Summary: Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.
* Obviously by ugh-yoongi wc~3.7k / secret relationship
Oh My God, They Were (Quarantined) Roommates by ot7always s wc~22.8k
Summary: What do you do when you’re quarantined for months on end with Jeon Jungkook - S tier cuddler, workout robot, and thirst trap extraordinaire? Fuck him, you guess.
* Once the Thrill Expires by alphabetboyluvr s wc~5.8k / angst, FWB, college au
Summary: Your housemate turned FWB takes another girl home after a night out.
Other Half by whatifyoulivelikethat s wc~6.5k / FWB
Summary: A PS4 nearly kills you. Your ex-boyfriend’s best friend comes to live with you for a while. Your black towels become fodder for box-bleach gone wrong. You hand ends up on Jeon Jungkook’s morning wood. Your lunch is interrupted quite rudely. “Can I have the other half of the egg?” Now you’re thinking, none of this makes sense, what kind of stupid summary is this?
Perhaps Love by mangowillow wc~12.5k / friends to lovers
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but Jeon Jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.
Piquant by kth1 s wc~12k / vampire au
Summary: Jungkook is your awesome roommate who also happens to be a vampire. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, even with the playful tactics he does to fluster you. Until you realize those quipping taunts meant more than he led on.
Proposals by pjxmin s wc~18.1k / friends to lovers, fake engagement au
Summary: You and Jeongguk propose at restaurants to get free food, but somewhere along the way you start to fall for him.
Scenes of Misguided Magic by wwilloww s wc~2.3k / ft KTH, magic au
Summary: Living with your two magic roommates means often exploding potions, spell mistakes, and strange ingredients. It doesn't mean sex magic. Except today it does.
Somnolent by forgottenpasta wc~3.5k
Summary: After spending one night in bed with you, Jeongguk finds out he is unable to sleep unless you’re sleeping with him.
Sparkle by btsmosphere wc~2.5k
Summary: Jungkook may have been planning a little something… a powercut is only a small barrier.
The Philosophy of Good Luck by kidguk s wc~7k / tattoo artist!Jungkook
Summary: “You told me I looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.
T W O S H O T S / S E R I E S
Blackout by jjungxkook s friends to lovers, college au
Summary: Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.
How to Get a Guy ² by taeshobipop s fuckboy!Jungkook, college au
Summary: Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He’s loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you’re absolutely bizarre. But there’s a silver lining — Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he’ll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungkook can continue perusing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn’t want to be the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?
Roommates by tayegi s best friend's brother
The Unbearable Lightness of Being... Something More by ggukcangetit s
Summary: When your best friend, Namjoon, asks if a junior from his business ventures class can live with you till his lease comes through, you don’t think much about it. But one month with Jeon Jungkook proves to be extremely difficult because of how little the boy says but how much he seems to topple over without much effort.
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so, quick disclaimer cause i dont want paula getting attacked for this:
none of the following is real. at least as far as im concerned. it is just a fictional characterisation of damiano, and i never want this to be damiano. dont take this too seriously, just enjoy the angst
warnings: suicide attempt (overd0se), clinical depression, suicidal intentions, fighting/yelling, hurt/comfort, self hate talk, a sprinkle of random psycology ive taught myself
so, lets just say that damia has clinical depression, inherited from his grandma that had dementia
it developed when he was 12, and hes lived with it ever since. with meds, therapy, healthy diets and excersise
må are on the end of (a) tour and the last thing they had to do was some interview
in that interview they all speak about their mental health, and he mentions for the first time his struggle with depression and how his career really enabled him to push through it a lot (giving a special thanks to the band and gio)
then on the ride home hes kinda out of it, he doesnt want to partake in conversation and he just huffs a lot
he ends up admitting he didnt like how he did at the audition and complaining about his mental health getting worse with the post-tour stress buildup
vic (equally stressed) kinda snaps at him and they have a really long fight about their feelings. victoria yells at him (in the heat of the moment) about how hes always self deprecating and bringing the others down, and she complains about damia stopping his therapy sessions cause now he always vents to the band, especially her
she just ends up telling him that she isnt "fully conviced youre actually sorry whenever you vent! you always shift the weight on us and then move on like you did nothing!"
of course, at the time, damiano just yelled back, something less strong cause he was kinda taken aback by vics words and they just hit a soft spot
cause damiano was always told to vent when he feels bad and he did it around the band cause he felt comfortable around them, and he always felt like he was burdening them with those stuffs even if they assured him elsewise and vic just proved everyone as liars by saying that
because of the stress and his mind not being clear he just takes it as granted and for the rest of the day (lets say theres like, 12 more hours till they need to start packing) he just bottles everything in and doesnt speak at all unless its to comment on something
vic takes it as him being petty and giving them the silent treatment so she doesnt call him out and stops ethan when he tries to
back at the hotel everyone is at their rooms (lets say they live in this hotel that has doors connecting the inside of the rooms, ive gone to one its chaotic and i loved it) and vic is talking to gio about how she feels bad and wants her to assure dami she didnt mean the things she said
giorgia and damiano call later in the night, and hes very casual about it
"hey, you feeling better?"
"kinda, got in a fight with vic"
"oh, that must be bad"
"maybe"
hes just sheltered off cause he thinks he is also burdening gio with his vents
she just reminds him to take the medication later and calls him an idiot (which makes him smile) and they hang up with "love u"s and stuff
damiano is really just not doing well after the fight and he loses all energy that normally filters logical thoughts from the illogical and then it starts
who knows how long ive been burdening them
god what an ass, relying on my friends for my happiness
im sure if it was up to them they wouldnt pick me as their friends anymore
god i am so stupid how does anyone like me
he gets teary eyed and his mind just fucking launches it to 200% (cause what is the brain for, if not making you feel worse when youre sad?)
everything that hes ever done slightly wrong just appears in his mind and he just keeps finding more and more things to hate about himself
he looks down at all his tattoos and sighs cause it was getting ridiculous and he was running out of ideas to tattoo on himself, desparate to stay clean of self harm, never wanting to fall down that hole
his legs carry him to the small bathroom of the hotel room and he just stares at his expression in the mirror until he fucking hates it so bad, he just wants to punch it
deep breaths arent working anymore and he clings onto the sink, trying not to pass out
hes so scared and so done with himself, his hand finds way to the antidepressants and he just opens the bottle, emptying a good chunk of them on his hand
he stares right into them and his eyes are getting blurry, his breathing hasnt calmed and he feels lightheaded as his back hits the wall tiles and he slides on the floor as his knees give out
his empty palm covers his mouth and silences his sobs when he felt like he was choking on them, his head hurt a lot and his throat stung a lot
he is about to just get it over with, he is good at dry swallowing pills so it would be a matter of seconds
then he hears a knock at the inbetween door and he freezes, head throbbing in pain and eyes redder than than crimson
vic suddenly starts speaking, her voice hoarse cause she was crying too
before shes even started talking damiano wants to shove the pills in his mouth, down his throat, get it over with and cause eveyone the least amount of pain, he already had his note typed out, to the groupchat that had leo and giorgia in it, as well as the band, he might as well get it over with, the pills will take a while to absorb
victoria starts talking again and the pills are a mere inch away from his face
she just apologises for being a jerk, for saying those things that were, in fact, not true, saying that she wasnt ever thinking of those and saying them was just an irrational act if anger
she admits shes fucked up cause obviously damiano was feeling bad and she didnt want to add to it
she said she saw how he was spacing out a lot and his eyes were hanging low, and she heard one of his sobs earlier and wanted to speak up and apologise
damianos hand itches to pour the pills in his mouth but suddenly hes frozen, in a lot of pain, and he cant stop hyperventilating, as if vics words had stopped his breathing for a bit
he feels the sobs in his throat and he can feel the way his knees and thighs are burning from how he sat, he suddenly was aware of what he was doing and he just loses it again
his hand has a viscious grip on those pills and the other just tugs at his hair hard to try and fix his brain, he just sends out a string of cusses and kicks the tiles across, only stopping when the pain became too much because he opened his leg ona sharp part of the sink pipe and blood was running everywhere
he was on the verge of his anxiety attack mixing with a panic attack and he feels immobilised as his body hurts all over and he just cant do anything and he wants to yell and scream and cry it all out, but he cant cause he is in a hotel bathroom, with his bandmates sleeping next door and a lot of strangers that wouldnt be too happy and he wants to just punch something so bad cause theres nowhere he can take the energy out on
vic after hearing no verbal reply assumes damiano doesnt want to talk to her, or hes moving in his sleep, so she almost goes to bed, but she hears a very small, frail and fragile "vic please", his voice cracking and he sounded like he was heavily crying so she just pulls the door back from her side and she sees him sitting down on the floor, curled up in a ball, clutching something in his hand as he shakes so much hes vibrating at this point, his back is rising and falling really quick and unevely and victoria knows the signs of a panic attack when she sees them
she tries to get him to calm down but he is very far into it and probably the cramped space he got himself into wasnt helping
she basically drags him out of the bathroom and damiano opens his palm and just says "take" and "might change mind" and she just scoops them in her own palm and into their bottle again befores shes sitting on the hard carpet with damiano, trying to match their breathing, but it doesnt work cause victoria's picks up when damiano's doesnt seem to even out and she just hugs him very tight and establishes a breathing pattern by pushing his back down with every exhale and pushing his chest away with every inhale
they are both crying on the floor there, but they are breathing properly and vic couldnt be more happy she spoke up
damiano just curls into her and just repats "im sorry" until his eyes are teary again and he starts trying to swallow his sobs
vic rubs his back and says "im sorry too", not wanting to cause more conflict
they hug it out until damiano has stopped crying a formally apologises, with victoria butting in and saying "if anything i should be incredible sorry"
damiano finally speaks to her about what happened and it takes everything in her to not start crying again, apologising about everything once more
she succeeds and she helps damiano lay down, take the appropriate dose of medication and some painkillers before hes passed out in the bed, his arms and thighs twitching from the stress
she just bandages the cut on his leg and leaves the inbetween door open just in case
she just lays down on her bed and she falls asleep just as easy
guilt is eating both of them the next morning and damiano doesnt want to say he almost attempted the previous night, and vic feels terrible for giving him fake insecurities and driving him almost mad
they have a talk later than ends in tears and hugs and she and damiano stick to each other for the day to break the awkwardness that grew from the previous night till that moment
after they make it back to rome she makes him promise he will tell giorgia and the others, and says that if he doesnt, she can
guilt is still floating in the air but vic is proud of herself and damiano and helps him speak out and after the initial shock everyone is glad to still have dami around them and make sure to remind him every chance they get.
* a real heartbreaker* but seriously, it's so well written, the details (i'm scared) and all, i'm proud of you sofi!
THERE'S 8272738383 TW YOU DON'T READ if you feel like it'll hurt you
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Title: Here for you
Pairing: PJM x reader
Rating: SFW
Genre: fwb au meets hospital au
Word count: 1,475
Summary: after an especially hard day at work, Jimin tries to comfort you, except you don't seem to respond to his usual tactics.
Warnings: imposter syndrome, a penis wiggle, discussions of medical complications but no death, implied smut
A/N: Hi, all!! There’s a bit of medical lingo. Resident= a physician who practices under the supervision of an attending physician. Attendings= doctors who have completed a residency, and supervise residents. Med surg= medical surgical unit/floor of the hospital where patients are generally, but not limited to, those recovering from some type of surgery. PE/pulmonary embolism= an emergent medical condition where there is a blood clot in the arteries that supply the lungs.
Also, this was written as part of the ghostie drabble marathon with the prompt: Character A gets emotional easily. Character B does not. A catches B crying alone and realizes that they never learned how to comfort B since they were usually the one getting comforted. Please drop a line, anything you want, to let me know what you think!!
You feel like an idiot.
Head in your hands with your eyes squeezed shut, you inhale slow and deep to calm your stuttering breaths.
Inhale, pause, exhale. Repeat.
You refuse to break down while at work. Doctors didn’t have that kind of luxury and you can’t sit here forever (even if a small part of you wants to).
Hands braced on the cold, hard concrete of the hospital's dingy stairwell, you're ready to continue with morning rounds when the door suddenly opens.
Fluorescent light floods the dimly lit stairwell.
“Dr. Lee’s lookin for you,” comes Jimin’s concerned voice.
“Fuck,” you whisper at being caught crying like a scared first year intern. You swipe under your eyes, erasing any trace of wetness and avoiding Jimin’s worried gaze.
“Yeah, I was just- just going down for coffee. I’ll come right back up to med surg” you sputter. You’re nowhere near the cafeteria.
His dark eyes meet yours briefly. Two years of friendship and casual hooking up has him believing he knows you better than most. He knows when you’re lying.
You make a quick exit, pushing past Jimin, refusing to make eye contact. Heading down towards the cafeteria to keep up pretenses, you decide maybe you do need the extra caffeine.
Coffee in hand and hearing the death march ringing in your head, you dread meeting with your attending.
Dr. Lee is a stern, but fair, mentor. She scolds you harshly for your mistake and then gently reminds you that this case will stay with you for the duration of your medical career. She promises you won’t let yourself make the same mistake twice. You hope she’s right.
By the end of the day, you’re feeling wretched. Having worked 80+ hours this week has exhausted you mentally, emotionally, and physically.
You head to the staff changing rooms not noticing the figure following you. Angrily pulling off your scrub top, you pause at the soft knock at the door.
“It’s me,” comes the quiet of Jimin’s soothing lilt.
In your bra and scrub pants, you crack open the door and peer around him confirming that he’s alone. Opening the door wide enough to slip his lithe body between the cracks, you sigh. “What do you want, Jimin”
“You had a rough day. I wanted to make you feel better” he rasps, winding his arms around you and pressing his body into yours.
He easily crowds you against the door, one hand slithering around your waist, the other discreetly locking it.
Mouth slotting against yours, you part your lips wider to allow him to press his tongue to yours. You moan into his kiss, letting him tilt your head, deepening the angle. His hands wander the expanse of your exposed back, down your hips, and landing on the swell of your ass where he palms at the soft flesh.
He kisses you like it’s the last time every time. Ardently and enthusiastically, like he can’t get enough of you. It takes your breath away.
You give yourself a moment to enjoy his affection, sliding your hands under his scrubs to scratch lightly against the soft skin of his abdominals before pushing him back with a firm hand against his chest. You pretend you don’t feel the rapid thrumming of his heart under your palm.
“Not tonight, Jimin” you pant.
You can’t get fully out of your head and into Jimin. Not right now. He lets you withdraw from him with worried eyes.
The past two years have been hard, but your unforeseen friendship (turned fwb status in the last year) with Jimin has been a nice bonus. He made you laugh, he talked you up to the other nurses and your superiors, he made you cum, (he made your heart race, but you’d never tell him that). You were focused on completing your orthopedic residency and Jimin had hesitantly agreed that there were to be no strings.
You hastily finish changing, stuffing your scrubs into your bag and making for the door.
Before you can hustle down the hallway and away from the sterile white of the hospital, you’re stopped by a firm, yet gentle, hand around your wrist. With a light tug you’re falling right back into his arms.
“It’s not your fault. You’re a great doctor” he insists, holding you close and pressing his forehead against yours.
Word gets around fast.
You scoff, tearing out of Jimin’s hold.
Great doctor? A second year resident and you still feel like you’re flying by the seat of your pants. You don’t belong here.
“Shortness of breath, coughing, fatigue, recent surgical procedure, chest pain, lightheadedness when ambulating with physical therapy” you tick each off on your fingers. “Classic signs of a PE, Jimin, and I missed them all” you spit.
The nurse shrinks back at your harsh words. After two years of friendship- and in Jimin’s opinion, more- he’s never seen you like this. Jimin has always been the emotional one; tenderhearted and in need of comfort after rough days. He’s always turned to you for that.
“We caught it in time though. He’s gonna be fine” Jimin tries, trying to hold you closer.
Your brow furrows in frustration. He doesn’t get it.
“He could have died!” you burst. A patient could have died because you didn’t catch it when he threw a pulmonary embolism. “Stop trying to pretend you know what I’m thinking!”
At your venomous words, Jimin backs away. “I-I didn’t. I’m sorry. I only wanted to comfort you.”
Eyes tight and biting his lip, he takes one last look at you before retreating back to his unit.
You sigh, disappointed in yourself. But you have the next two blessed days off. Hopefully by then, you’ll have grown the nerve to apologize to Jimin for blowing up at him.
Washing up and throwing your dirty scrubs in the laundry, you curl into your bed, finally allowing yourself to cry.
On day two, your phone pings with a notification. You see that Jimin has sent you a snapchat.
Intrigued, you tap open the icon and-
Jimin is standing in front of his bathroom mirror- cheeks rosy, hair pushed back to expose his neatly trimmed undercut, ends dripping wet- covered only by a towel hanging from the base of his very erect penis.
He must’ve just finished showering as you clearly see the beads of water running down his exposed neck and chest in rivers to undoubtedly pool on his bright orange bath mat.
One hand is holding his phone, the other is waving into the mirror as he repeatedly clenches his pelvic floor muscles to make his rigid cock wiggle in greeting.
“Miss you,” comes his angelic voice.
He continues slowly waving, towel-covered cock bobbing in time with his hand as if purposely synchronized.
“I hope you’re feeling better today” he says earnestly with a goofy smile.
You cackle at his antics, feeling your mood boost instantaneously.
Eyes trained on his figure, you try to imprint this short video to the backs of your eyelids. It’s over as quickly as it began, video disappearing.
Reciprocating, you snap back a shot of your body covered in nothing but his oversized shirt. Then, you open your texts and arrange for Jimin to meet you in an hour at your apartment.
Waiting for his arrival, you pull out your favorite lube and some condoms in preparation.
When your doorbell rings, you’re already worked up and ready for him to pound you into your mattress.
Fixing your lips to his with a soft groan in greeting, you pull him towards your bedroom and pin him down onto the bed.
You’re both panting when you break away from his plush lips to kiss down the column of his throat.
Jimin purrs beneath you, unable to resist the soft pull of your lips against his sensitive flesh.
“Shit, I wasn’t planning on-” he pulls back from you, eyes glazed with desire. “I just wanted to be here for you and make sure you- that we- were ok.”
You stare down at him. “Jimin. I’m sitting on your half hard cock, trying to apologize, and you’re talking right through it” you chuckle.
He stops you as you lean in again. He’s serious.
“I mean… I also wanted to tell you," he looks shyly up at you. "You’re the only person I’ve been hooking up with,” he quietly admits. “I don’t want anyone else”
You gulp. Have you been stupidly exclusive this whole time?
“Same,” you whisper, meeting his excited eyes with your confession.
“So, then, this- you and me- it’s real?” he asks again with an endearing rouge to his cheeks.
You look into his hopeful gaze and can’t resist him.
“Ask me again after you take me out on a real date,” you agree easily as his eyes crinkle with happiness, beaming up at you.
#park jimin#jimin x reader#jimin fanfic#jimin fanfiction#jimin scenario#hospital au#fwb au#p3nis wiggle#btsghostiemarathon
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peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | three
A/N: Thanks again for your positive feedback on this mini-series! Please keep those canon questions coming as you guys know I loooove answering them to help build the canon! This one is a short one but it will be made up for by the last two chapters.
CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.
* * * * *
Brock and Grace were having fun. Actual, genuine, real fun. Whenever they were together, they were smiling and laughing and kissing and having a good time. They’d go out to eat at Vancouver’s best restaurants. They’d take walks in parks or along the seawall. They’d get coffee at cute little cafés and munch on bespoke cookies or donuts that would make Brock complain about extra hours in the gym. They’d invite Elias and Svea with them and it would be great, because they were great, and they’d all just be constantly laughing. Grace and Svea got closer – much closer. Elias and Brock were tearing it up for the Canucks. Grace and Svea would go to bars for a glass of wine before going to games together. They’d cheer and clap and sing along with all the songs being blasted throughout the arena.
Fun. Life was fun.
***
“How do I bite it?!” Brock was incredulous at the size of the cupcake Grace got him. It was bigger than his jaw could open. Elias and Svea were already ready with their damn phones to film him. “I can’t…” he tried to bring it up to his mouth.
“Just put the whole thing in your mouth!” Grace exclaimed.
“That’s what she said,” Elias mumbled, only to garner a disapproving mother look from Brock and a slap on the arm from Svea. “What! Isn’t that the joke?!”
“Don’t be crass,” Svea chastised before focusing her attention back on Brock. “Just bite the thing, Brock. Just…just stuff it in there,” he pretended to do the motion herself.
“Again, that’s what she said.”
Grace hit Elias too this time.
***
“You can get us reservations to Hawksworth?” Svea asked in shock.
Grace nodded casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world to get a reservation at Vancouver’s best and most exclusive restaurant. “The Gillespie’s own the Rosewood Hotel Georgia.”
“You do?”
Grace nodded again before sucking back on an oyster. “When do you want to eat there?”
“Oh, I – I don’t know. Can I get back to you?”
“Of course! Just let me know.”
“Wow Grace,” Svea said. “You really do have the world at your fingertips. Vancouver especially.”
Grace shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a blessing and a curse. I can’t go anywhere without running into someone that knows my dad or knows who I am and thinks they know me. It’s even worse when they knew my dad a long time ago and only ask about how he’s doing with his Parkinson’s now. Most of the time they don’t even truly care. And I’d trade it all in, every single penny, if it meant my dad never got Parkinson’s.”
Svea couldn’t imagine living that kind of life. She didn’t know how Grace did it – or Brock, for that matter. She would be a sobbing mess on the floor every single day. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive when I—”
“Oh God no. No no no – you don’t need to apologize. I just…” Grace paused, trying to collect her thoughts. “I know how fortunate I am, believe me. I just don’t think people know that – that I know I’m fortunate. But Parkinson’s – any chronic illness – it really humbles you. Most people don’t know what that’s like. And like, thank God they don’t. But they think they know.”
All Svea could do was nod her head and listen.
***
Whenever Brock sent a text that said ‘come over and watch a movie’ Grace knew what that really meant. But instead of finding it lewd, she’d slather on some raspberry chapstick and be on her merry way to Brock’s apartment.
When they were done, and lying in bed together, with her head on his chest and her hair sprawled everywhere, that’s when the talking would begin. “How’s your dad doing?” “Are the new round of meds working?” “Is he having more trouble getting up now?” “What are the doctors saying?” “How’s his memory?” “How’s the swallowing?” “Are the doctors recommending speech therapy?”
“When I quit dance, my dad was so disappointed,” Grace revealed one night as Brock was running his hands through her hair. “It was the only thing I was ever really, really good at. I wasn’t the best in school. I just didn’t get things the way other kids did. And when I told him the reason, he made me promise I’d keep doing dance in some capacity. I maybe wouldn’t do it super-competitively anymore with him driving me all around BC and flying me all over Canada and the US to attend competitions, but I’d still do it. That’s why I teach at the Goh Ballet. Like…I know I’m not the smartest girl in the world, but I like to think I have a big heart. And I just hope that people see that.”
“I wear number six because it was my dad’s number,” Brock revealed too, one night when they were alone. “I wanted…I wanted to make sure that if he wasn’t around, my career would still honour him in some way. I want that to be my legacy…like, everything I do, I do for my dad.”
Grace nodded. She completely understood. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who knows and understands exactly what I’m going through,” she said. “Do you think it was fate that brought us together at that meeting?”
Brock found himself nodding his head automatically. “Of course,” he said softly.
***
“I’m sorry we couldn’t have you at the house for dinner, Brock, but our chef is on vacation,” Eliza Carmichael, Grace’s mom, smiled from across the table as she sipped on her glass of wine. From beside her, her husband, Grace’s step-dad James kept perusing the menu, as did Grace’s two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo, who were seated at opposite heads of the table.
“Oh that’s no problem at all,” he smiled politely, grabbing Grace’s hand underneath the table and squeezing it gently before putting it in his lap. “I actually come here with the boys sometimes. The food here is amazing.”
“It is, isn’t it? James knows the head chef,” she said. “Grace tells me you’re a hockey player.”
It was at that point that James put down his menu. “Honey, he plays for the Vancouver Canucks. We’ve been over this.”
Eliza rolled her eyes playfully before picking up her menu. It was only at that point that Brock noticed the giant rock on her finger. It was the size of his eyeball. “Grace tells me you live in Shaughnessy,” he said, trying to make polite conversation. “I hear that’s a beautiful neighbourhood.”
“Oh, it is. Perfect place for the quiet life hockey player’s lead,” James joked. Brock forced out a chuckle.
***
“I love this song!!!” Grace exclaimed as the DJ began to play some old school Rihanna. She downed the rest of her drink and slapped the glass against the bar before grabbing Brock’s arm with one hand and Svea’s hand with the other, knowing that Svea would, on instinct, grab Elias’s arm and drag him to the dance floor too.
The club was completely unstuffy. There were no girls dressed to the nines, no four-inch stiletto heels digging into Grace’s feet, no people showing up just to be seen in booths with bottle service. It was completely unpretentious and that’s how Grace liked it. Considering her lifestyle and her wealth, it was actually how she liked everything. So when the DJ began playing pop songs, she couldn’t help but start dancing uncontrollably. To his credit, Brock did too. It was like he lost all his inhibitions and began moving his body in tune with the music. Even Elias and Svea did, and Grace knew how…well, quiet they were. This wasn’t their scene at all but they were having the time of their life dancing with each other, spinning each other around and moving to the beat of the music.
For at least a night, Grace could forget. She could forget how her parents used her to get back at one another during an awful divorce. She could forget her mom re-married an equally as nice guy as her dad but became more pretentious as the years went on and the wealth accumulated. She could forget that she made the decision to quit dancing professionally. She could forget her dad had Parkinson’s. For one night, everything was perfect. Everything was fun. Everything was how it should be.
***
“Fuuuuck, baby,” Brock groaned as he watched Grace climb on top of him, leaning forward so she could press his breasts up against his face. He immediately took the opportunity to place wet, open mouth kisses all over her breasts, kissing down to her nipples before taking them in his mouth. He could feel her grab his cock and lower herself onto it, sighing at the feeling of him filling her up. “Feel good?”
“You always feel amazing,” she smiled, her hair falling around her face. “That’s why I can’t stop fucking you.”
Brock chuckled, a cocky smile on his face as he reached up and brought Grace’s face down so he could kiss her and stick his tongue down her throat. “Ride me, baby,” he mumbled against her lips.
Grace began rocking her hips back and forth, her body moving so expertly and so in tune with Brock’s. Almost immediately, she began to moan, and Brock grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers so she’d have something to brace against. Brock was in a trance – as he usually was when Grace was riding. He was completely and utterly transfixed by her in every sense of the word, and in every way; from the hair on her head to the red nail polish on her toes.
“God, I fucking love you, Grace.”
The words had barely escape Brock’s mouth before he realized the magnitude of what he said, how he said it, and when he’d fucking said it. God, he was such a fucking idiot!!!!! During sex?! Really?! Way to live the cliché Brock Boeser! Way to be a fucking idiot and—
“I fucking love you too, Brock,” he heard Grace say, a smile adorned on her face. The both of them giggled, and couldn’t stop giggling for a while even though she was still riding him. It was miraculous. “Way to say it for the first time while I’m riding you,” she joked.
“I couldn’t help myself,” he said.
“You’re lucky I love you, because that’s such an amateur move, Brock.”
#brock boeser#brock boeser iimagine#brock boeser fic#brock boeser fan fic#vancouver canucks#vancouver canucks imagine#vancouver canucks fic#vancouver canucks fan fic#brock boeser blurb#vancouver canucks blurb#nhl#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl fan fic#nhl blurb#hockey#hockey imagine#hockey fic#hockey fan fic#hockey blurb#peaceful easy feeling series
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Shattered Hearts // Luke Patterson
Summary: The teenage years are supposed to the best time of life but not when fate has other plans for Sunset Curve. Not feeling well reader stays home while Luke prepares for the performance of his life at The Orpheum. Shit hits the fan hard and the fallout ensues.
Warnings: Swearing, death, hospital, cancer (type is not detailed) angst, and fluff.
Words: 2.3k
Requested: @lolychu
A/N: I didn’t go into detail about the kind of cancer because I didn’t want to, I want it to be as general as it could. I’ve never gone through it or had someone close go through it so it could be wrong and I apologize for that. Broken heart syndrome is REAL by the way.
Masterlist
Los Angeles, 1995
There are articles of some medical mysteries that can’t fully be scientifically explained, such as when someone dies in excellent health following the death of a loved one. The scientific term is takotsubo cardiomyopathy, but the world knows it merely by Broken Heart Syndrome. It was a day that was supposed to be the greatest of your teenage years, but the day couldn’t have gone any worse.
First, you woke up with an incredibly high fever and newfound bruises. Pain in a wrist out of nowhere but you wrote it off. You had plans, and illness wasn’t scheduled for the day. Your boyfriend and his band had gotten their big break, well their almost big break. Today was the day Sunset Curve would perform at The Orpheum, and you were gonna be backstage cheering them on.
Luke made his appearance at your house in the morning before early rehearsal, and you managed to convince him you were feeling okay. He went on to their studio, and your mother drove you to the hospital in fear.
Life was an asshole. While you waited for test results pale against the hospital sheets, an ambulance rolled in. Carrying three bodies that would go to the morgue for positive confirmation of death. You wouldn’t know for a full day, Luke’s parents too grief-stricken to call you and that’s okay.
“Mom?” You asked as her form caved in on the floor near your hospital bed, “Mom!”
Her eyes filled with so much pain brought you fear and concern. With a struggle, she came closer to hold your hand tightly and spoke brokenly the fate that would snatch you.
“Baby, you don’t have the flu.”
“That’s good? So just meds and we can go home?” You asked heart clenching as her eyes closed tight and you knew whatever the doctor had told her after pulling her out of the room wasn’t good.
Couldn’t be good with the slump in her shoulders, the pain in her eyes and the guilt coating her every word. Mom wasn’t a housewife; she wasn’t a flower in need of protection, but she never kept something from you. Always said it straight and as it is.
“Sweetheart, they’re gonna move you to another ward.” You knew deep in your heart the news had to be the worst because Mom wasn’t telling you the whole story. Finally, she broke down, “The doctors got the results back as soon as they could. The fever, the bruises, and the broken wrist have a reason. You have cancer.”
Cancer. A word that sealed your fate. It left you reeling in shock. It shattered your dream with just one single name. Couldn’t be seen but made its presence known. The coming hour was spent with the specialist detailing the type and a tentative treatment plan he wanted to initiate immediately.
A nurse escorted your mother out as the orderlies and nurses prepped you to be moved to a new room. Knowing you were in good hands, your mom walked to the main doors for fresh air only to be astounded at the sight of Mitch and Emily Patterson. Equally shocked, they came together.
“Emily?” Your mom spoke, looking carefully at the parents of your boyfriend. She wondered how the Patterson’s had found out, “Did someone call you?”
“No.” Emily spoke with a numb voice. Your mom took a step back, understanding that one could only react that way for one thing. Something had happened to the Patterson teenager.
“Luke isn’t here, is he?” Your mom asked, turning to look up at the tall building of the hospital, “Y/N, hasn’t had a phone. She only found out, but Luke hasn’t been with you-“
“The cops came,” Mitch spoke tucking his upset wife into his arms. He was equally as grief-stricken and bitter, but he had to be calm for his wife. They wouldn’t get anywhere if one of them couldn’t get answers.
Your mom gasped, “No.”
“I always knew that band-“Emily’s own sob cut her words off as her knees threatened to buckle. Your mom helped lead Emily into the emergency room before she jogged off to join you but not before turning to the Patterson parents.
“We’ll meet up. Discuss why we’re all here.”
Being told you had cancer and then informed your boyfriend died all in one night was the most painful thing you had to live through. It was weeks of screaming, invasive procedures and therapy sessions. Your father came from his business trip to Dubai as soon as he could and didn’t leave your side.
A painful six months rolled with cancer stealing your hopes and a fucking bad hotdog taking your dreams away. Nothing made you curious. Nothing felt worth living for.
Not the realistic watercolour tattoo your parents let you get of Luke’s blue guitar you loved so much. It seemed to have a terminally sick child made it practically impossible to say no to, so you got a tattoo of your favourite lyrics of Sunset Curve.
In pretty font, it said ‘When all the days felt black and white. Those were the best shades of my life’ just like it said in Now or Never. One of your favourite songs, you got the privilege of watching Luke create.
“Mom, can I have a popsicle?” You asked from your bed. Eyes barely open as she nodded off her chair, “My mouth is dry.”
“Of course.” She nodded, leaving the room with a kiss on your forehead. Both of you mumbling I love you just in case. You felt like your clock was close to the end, so every word had meaning.
It was a good day so far; you hadn’t had to press for more pain medication like the last couple of weeks. You had managed to turn to stare out the window at the pretty sky. Your eyes fluttered shut completely content that this was it.
Your mom returned to a room with doctors and nurses trying to resuscitate you with your father screaming. No one could figure out if it was the cancer or the broken heart syndrome that killed you first. Your death was a double blow to Luke’s parents the most, along with Reggie and Alex’s own parents.
Los Angeles, 2020
So much had changed since you died in 1995. Phones had changed, and buildings were torn down. You changed as well too. In relief physically, you had changed from the gaunt, skinny, pale patient to the girl you had been before the diagnosis.
Your hair now looked as healthy as it had been before you had cancer and you weren’t gaunt looking. You were looked just like you did a few months before you got diagnosed and you hoped so since you were dead. It would have sucked to be dead and beyond ugly.
“Do you think she went on to have a family?”
You kept your attention on the waves crashing the beach content to watch the waves doing the same movement they had since the beginning. You paid no attention to the group walking by. Not until one tripped over you landing in an awkward heap.
“Ouch!” The voice hissed. Your eyes flicked down to Reginald fucking Hastings’s blue eyes in pure shock. You scrambled away from the teenager with a sharp scream that pierced the ghoul group.
“Jesus.” You grumbled pushing the little sand that had stuck somehow to your body made of air.
“Oh my god. I think I just summoned Luke’s girlfriend.” Reggie hissed towards the equally astounded members of former Sunset Curve and current Julie and the Phantoms bandmates.
“No, you idiot we’re dead.” You spoke, taking a deep breath in, “After not seeing you for five years I thought you passed on. I’ve been travelling around America and Canada. Something felt like I needed to come home.”
“When did you die?” Alex questioned sadly when you were quiet. His sad blue eyes unable to leave your expressive face, he hoped somehow you had lived to your 90s and died to come back youthful.
“It’s wasn’t harm-“
“No, Luke. I don’t think I’ll ever positively know what happened, but the night you guys died my life ended as well.” You revealed sitting back, letting the three boys join you for an intriguing story to them. Luke wasn’t hesitant in grasping your hand in his, “Funny enough your bodies were being unloaded in the morgue while I was being told by my Mom, I had cancer. The battle was hard but short.”
“Cancer?”
“Our love story was destined to be tragic, whether it be cancer or a hotdog.” You told the teenage guitarist to experience in the afterlife to be gentle about it. The three boys flinched from the indifference, “Have you visited your parents yet? My parents are home for a few weeks.”
“My neighbourhood was torn down. Alex doesn’t know about his and-“
“-I’ve seen my folks once so far.” Luke finished playing with your fingers, “You say our love story was tragic, I say it would be tragic if we hadn’t had the chance in life that we did.”
You nodded your head, “Where have you guys been?”
All three boys took their chaotic turn in describing their last meal to Reggie tripping over you with the belief of walking through you. They were in a band with a lifer who made them visible to the public when playing music together. You told them that your parents would choose a destination from your dream travel journal; you would follow them on the adventures.
Slowly you met Julie who put up a distance as she acclimated to having the girlfriend of her crush around always. Julie couldn’t help the feeling of jealously when Luke focused on the teen ghost girl. She couldn’t even hate you! You were so lovely and welcoming to the girl with respect for boundaries, in fact, you were exactly the girl she would have been friends with. Julie loved Flynn, but she could be over the top and dramatic sometimes.
“Good rehearsal. I’ll meet you outside.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You nodded before walking through the white, painted barn doors.
Everything put away properly; Luke was quick to meet up with his girlfriend for their date. Alex noticed the stare by Julie. He had seen it for the past few weeks since you were introduced to the passionate musician with a beautiful voice.
“I’m really sorry, Julie.” Alex softly told the sad Puerto Rican girl yearning to hug the teenager but alas his ghostly body couldn’t allow it.
“Did I have an honest chance before she came back?” Julie asked. Her doe brown eyes bringing Reggie’s attention to the conversation at hand.
“No.” Reggie answered this time solemn with his blue eyes holding no mirth or childlike glee, “Luke’s been in love with her for years. She’s his all or nothing.”
“I didn’t have a chance between them, and I don’t want you between them either. It’s not a nice place to be even if I was mutually breaking up with his as well.” Alex soothed the live girl yearning to physically comfort her but alas that damn hotdog ruined everything.
“Luke also said when the first big payment came, he would marry her. He wanted to give her the wedding of her dreams.” Reggie unintentionally rubbed the salt in Julie’s wound on the topic of her tragic love story.
Julie learnt to deal with the pain of seeing Luke, so in love and happier than before you had reconnected. In her fashion, she had hidden a new box for her thoughts that was so well hidden the boys would never find it. It was filled with papers that progressively got less romance angst.
“I’m just saying,” Alex spoke, raising his hands in the air after another one of Luke’s emotional rants on the loss of things in death. Such as marrying you.
“Dude, we’re dead, and our ghost connections happen to either be our band, Willie or a very questionable sketchy vintage magician.” Luke snapped slouching on his couch sulking as you were spending time with your family no matter how oblivious they were to your presence.
“I’m ordained.” Willie supplied sitting next to the blonde drummer who had easily swayed from Caleb to the good side again. At the group’s looks of disbelief, he continued, “I was bored! Took some art classes too. It won’t be the average wedding, but you could still call each other spouse.”
“I can check local clubs for wedding dresses. Flynn can easily put together music and Alex can find a venue.” Julie piped up, avoiding the sympathetic look from Reggie, who still thought the teenager had feelings for his bandmate. She no longer did.
“You can use one of your rings on a chain as well. Maybe hold off on getting a ring until we get money from the band.” Reggie gave his input, earning himself a proud expression from Alex; an expression the drummer rarely was able to give his friend.
“I guess I’m proposing.” Luke beamed already thinking of ways to make his proposal special, not like being ghosts wasn’t already impressive enough.
It wasn’t the ideal wedding, but it honestly didn’t matter as long as the two of you were able to vow yourself to each other. It no longer mattered on the details other than you two.
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#luke patterson imagines#julie and the phantoms imagines#luke patterson x reader#charlie gillespie imagines#jatp luke#jatp fanfic#jatp#caitsy and ash productions
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It took me fifteen years, but I have finally realized the tragedy that is the treatment of Jacob Black in the Twilight Series. Hallelujah, I have seen the light. So here's a one shot of Bella making the RIGHT choice after the newborn battle in Eclipse.
Run to You
"You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know." (Haymitch, The Hunger Games)
-
I was exhausted. Worrying about my family and friends being hurt, or dying, trying to protect me was exhausting. Being a weak, defenseless human surrounded by supernatural creatures was exhausting. Constantly wondering when Edward would realize that I wasn't worth all of this trouble and leave (again) was exhausting. Not recognizing the person I had become; a person who was insecure and needy and selfish, was exhausting. And him. Trying to pretend that I wasn't in love with him was the most exhausting. And I didn't want to do it anymore.
-
I didn't get very far before driving became impossible. I just needed to make it a little bit farther, just get past the treaty line and then I could pull over to the side of the road. I could take a few minutes to pull myself together and everything would be fine. At least that's what I kept telling myself, but it was kind of hard to see how when the road was blurring in front of me. When I couldn't see anymore, I let my tires find the rough shoulder and roll slowly to a stop. My hands shook as I put my truck in park and then quickly, almost instinctively, wrapped around my stomach, as if trying to hold myself together. Well here we are again, a voice in the back of my brain said. How many times could a person's heart be ripped in half before it refused to heal? I slumped over on the seat and allowed the weakness I'd been fighting crush me. It was worse than I thought. Yes, I had been right to hide this. No one should ever see this. Also, I was pretty sure if he had, he never would have let me go.
-
I wasn't alone for very long - I didn't even jump when I heard the tapping on the window of the truck. I worked to see through the relentless stream of tears obscuring my vision. There was someone standing outside of the truck, peering in through the driver's side window, probably wondering what the problem was. A blurry glimpse of a bare chest and short black hair caused my heart to clench so hard I gasped before realizing that it was just Quil. He must have been on patrol with some of the other wolves and spotted my truck on the side of the road. I pulled myself up off of the seat and fought with the door handle for a second before I was able to get it open.
"Bella?" Quil asked "Are you okay?" He paused. "Right. Stupid question. Obviously you're not okay. Sorry. Um, shit. What can I do? Do you want me to take you to Jake... or some where else...?" he seemed to tack that last part on with some hesitation, but I appreciated the thought.
What did I need? There were so many ways that I could answer that question. Therapy probably. To stop hurting everyone that I cared about, absolutely. The ability to split myself into two different people, so that I could make both Edward and Jacob happy, would be helpful. But there was only one thing that truly mattered at that moment; the reason why I was here, crying on the side of the road.
"Jacob" the name coming out more like a plea than an answer to a question. And once I started I couldn't stop. The sound of "Jacob, Jacob, Jacob." joined the sounds of sobbing and shaky gasping breaths. I couldn't tell if Quil answered me or not, and after a minute of silence I wondered if he was still there. But then I felt an arm slide behind my back and a hand grip my hip before shifting me to the side so that I was sitting in the middle of the truck's seat. Quil slid behind the wheel and pulled me in to tuck against his side before pulling the truck back onto the road. Normally I would have felt at least a little embarrassed about essentially cuddling up to someone I hadn't really spent that much time with, but Quil was warm and I was so cold. I was so tired of being cold.
-
Jacob
-
I was laying in bed when I heard the knock at the front door. Well, knock probably wasn't the right word, it sounded more like someone kicking at the door in an attempt at knocking. The weird knocking wasn't the thing that I noticed the most though. Because what was really weird was that I hadn't heard a car pull up out front first, or even the sound of someone walking up the gravel drive to the front porch. Heightened hearing was one of the perks of the whole turning into a giant wolf thing, so I usually knew right away when someone came to the house. Dr. Fang must've really overdone it on the pain meds this time. He still wasn't sure about the dosage because of my higher than average metabolism and seemed to be going with the trial and error method. Although, if I had to pick, I guess a little stoned was better than being in pain. Or physical pain anyway. The drugs were doing absolutely nothing to stop the thoughts running through my head. Well, one thought, really, repeating over and over, like a broken record. Bella, Bella, Bella…
-
Billy must have let whoever it was in and by the time I had focused on trying to figure out who it was, my bedroom door was being pushed open. Quil stood in the doorway cradling Bella against his chest and for a second I had a flash of a memory. Bella being carried from the woods by Sam. The haunted look in her eyes. The broken sobs. This was entirely too much like that.
"Bella! What the hell happened?! Is she okay?"
"I don't know man. I was out on patrol and saw her truck on the side of the road. I asked her what was wrong but she just kept saying your name over and over, so I brought her here." Quil hesitated like he wasn't sure what he should do now. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to jump up from the bed and get her. But I was still on "bed rest" until the doc could be sure I wouldn't re injure myself. I ground my teeth together and took a deep breath, attempting to remain calm, "Well bring her here." Quil looked relieved to have some direction and he quickly laid her on the bed next to me before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
As soon as she was on the bed Bella curled into my side, still sobbing. I started to wrap my arms around her before remembering that the entire right side of my body was basically useless. I threw my head back against the mattress, cursing quietly out of frustration. Then settled for bringing my left hand up to start rubbing Bella's shoulder and back. "Shh, its okay. I'm here. What happened?" I had hoped that she'd look up, but when did Bella ever make things easy.
"Bells?" I tried again. Still nothing. This time I kept the cursing confined to inside my head. Or I tried to anyway.
"I'm losing my mind here Bells. You've just gotta talk to me. I'm suck here in this damn bed and I can barely fucking move and you're scaring me and I need to at least know if you're hurt. Did he hurt you?" I worked on trying to slow the tremors moving through my body. The doc would be pissed if I phased now and ruined all of his hard work. Plus Bella was freaking out enough and I had to keep it together for her. I still needed her to at least answer my question though, "Dammit Bella, just tell me what he did to you." Still no answer. She was trying to kill me with stress. That was it. That newborn hadn't finished the job, so she was going to do it. "Bella, I swear to god-"
Finally, she answered me, "He didn't hurt me," except that she could only get about one word out at a time, she was crying so damn hard. I waited for her to continue, to explain it so that I could understand, but she was quiet. Well, besides the crying.
"Okay, good, cause all of the broken bones might have made it difficult for me to kick his ass." I joked, hoping to make her laugh, or get angry, anything really as long as she stopped crying. But the tears kept pouring out of her eyes, soaking my shirt while she pulled in great mouthfuls air.
I sighed, "Bells?"
Bella whispered something against my chest, so quietly that I almost didn't hear her. But I was focused now and it sounded like she said, "They're leaving." It took me a minute to process what she was saying, partially because the pain killers made all of my thoughts sort of fuzzy around the edges. "They're leaving?" I repeated it back to her like a question, "Not 'We're leaving.'?" She just shook her head without picking it up.
"So, the Cullens are leaving. Edward is leaving. And you're not going with them." I said the words slowly, not to cause her pain, even though I'm sure it did, but because I had to be sure that I understood. That I wasn't missing something. That the tiny ray of hope that I felt starting to crawl out of the deep, dark corner of my mind where I had buried it wasn't just me setting myself up to get my heart broken (again). Bella sobbed even harder, her gasping breaths broken up by hiccups, as she nodded her head.
So, I guess the bastard couldn't handle the competition after all. I was surprised, I hadn't expected him to give up that easily. And there was the hope again. But I shoved it back down and tried to focus. Because Bella was still crying and making those ugly, broken sounds and it was my job to make her feel better. "Hey, shhh. It'll be okay, honey." I murmured before pressing my lips to the top of her head. My hand continued to rub up and down her arm and across her back. "I'm sorry. Was he mean to you? I didn't mean for you to have to go through that alone. I was thinking I'd be there. And I'm sorry he left you." Bella had gone still, but when she didn't say anything, I continued. "I mean, I'm not sorry that he's gone, but I'm sorry he hurt you. He's an idiot." And then Bella was crying again and I was failing miserably at the whole, making her feel better is my job, thing. "Shit, sorry honey, I guess that's not what you want to hear right now. But IT IS going to be okay." I stressed, because I needed her to believe me. "It sucks right now, but you've gotten through this before. And you don't have to do it alone. I'm gonna be with you the whole time, whatever it takes. Maybe this time won't be as bad because you kinda know what to expect. And I'll be good, I promise. No pressure. I'll be whatever you need me to be. And it'll be okay."
"Wait, stop," Bella interrupted my rambling. She took a deep breath and looked up at me, "Edward isn't leaving because he's mad at me for loving you. He's leaving because I asked him to. Because I'm in love with you." Her voice was all watery from crying and the tears never really stopped, but those words were still the most wonderful thing I'd ever heard. I couldn't have pushed back the hope now even if I wanted to (not that I did want to). Bella picked me. I hadn't realized until just then how much I had been preparing myself to lose. But she had really picked me. I wanted to kiss her and spin her around my tiny bedroom in circles and just show her how happy she made me. Except this wasn't like those stupid fairytale stories that Rebecca had always tried to read to me when we were kids. You know the ones; boy falls for girl, girl says no, boy is persistent, girl finally says yes, and they live happily ever after. Unless I missed the one where the girl was also in love with another boy at the same time and everyone involved got the hearts broken. Oh and one of the boys was a bloodsucking leech and the other turned into a giant wolf. Actually, there probably was one of those Grimm's fairytales that had something like that. But those didn't usually have happy endings.
No, this definitely was not a fairytale, because his girl was crying over another guy, which didn't seem like a great way to start a "happily ever after" even if it was her decision.
He wanted to talk to Bella about all of this. To figure out what she was thinking and where they would go from here, but Bella had gone back to crying into his chest and she had to be exhausted, so he would wait. He had promised to be good, afterall.
-
Bella
-
I don't how long I had been lying there, curled into the crook of Jake's arm, but it must have been a while, because he stirred a little and asked, "Hey honey, sorry, but it's getting late and I didn't know if there was somewhere you needed to be... or someone who was going to be looking for you..." he prompted. I managed to convey, after several attempts, that Charlie thought I was spending the night with Alice and that no one else needed to know where I was. He seemed satisfied with that answer and shifted to make himself more comfortable, while still keeping me tucked firmly against his side. I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head and say, "Then you should get some sleep."
He didn't say anything else after that. Just held me on the bed and let me ruin his shirt, staining it with salt water. Eventually, the sobs quieted, but the tears continued to flow steadily. It took longer than I thought it would for that smaller, broken part of me to cry herself out. It happened, though, and I was eventually exhausted enough to sleep. Unconsciousness did not bring full relief from the pain, just a numbing, dulling ease. It made it more bearable, but it was still there. I was aware of it, even asleep, and that helped me to make the adjustments I needed to make.
-
The morning brought with it, if not a brighter outlook, at least a measure of control, some acceptance. Instinctively, I knew that the new tear in my heart would always ache. That was just going to be a part of me now. Time would make it easier - that's what everyone always said. But I didn't care if time healed me or not, so long as Edward could be happy again. That's what had been missing the last time; the acceptance. It's what had kept me from moving forward. But this time would be different.
When I woke up, there was no disorientation. I opened my eyes - finally dry - and met his anxious gaze.
"Hey," I said. My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat. He didn't answer. He watched me, waiting for it to start.
"No, I'm fine," I promised. "That won't happen again." His eyes tightened in concern.
"That's great, Bells, but what exactly was that?" He asked.
I took a deep breath, just because I was prepared for this conversation, didn't mean it wasn't going to be painful.
"The Cullens are leaving." I repeated my answer from last night to make sure he had understood what I had tried to tell him while also breaking down. I could see the question in his eyes, so I answered it. "Yes, Edward is leaving too. And no, I'm not going with them." As I spoke I saw a hundred different emotions flicker in Jacob's eyes. The one that seemed to be winning was hope, but then it was like he caught himself and a neutral expression settled over his features. I hated it, he wasn't My Jacob, when he made that face. But I also knew that in this case, I had no one to blame but myself. My hindsight had become incredibly clear. I could see every mistake I'd made, every bit of harm I'd done, the small things and the big things. Each pain I'd caused Jacob, each wound I'd given Edward, stacked up into neat piles that I could not ignore or deny.
"I'm sorry." I pushed myself up, using my arm to lean on his chest so that I could meet his eyes. "I've made a real mess of things. I know I've caused you a lot of pain. But I finally realized I was wrong all along." At that, Jacob took a startled breath and looked like he was about to say something. I placed a finger against his lips, and he stopped. "Just let me get this out. I don't want there to be any confusion." His brow furrowed a little, but he waited for me to continue.
"I was wrong about the magnets," I explained. "I used to think about you and Edward as magnets; that you two were like opposite magnetic poles. I couldn't push you together no matter how hard I tried. But it was actually the two parts of myself, your Bella and Edward's Bella, that I was trying to force together. But they could not exist together, and I never should have tried." I could see the hope starting to win out in Jacob's eyes as he said quietly, "I knew you'd figure it out eventually." And the corner of his mouth twitched. "But still, you mind telling me how you figured it out?"
"It was the kiss, before the battle," I paused and made an effort to look stern, "which I'm still mad at you for, by the way. Threatening to kill yourself to make me kiss you?" I raised an eyebrow. At least he had the decency to look ashamed.
I didn't have to work to be serious this time, "You will never do that to me again, got it?" Jacob glanced up from beneath his lashes and nodded. That's how I was sure that he knew he had messed up; that and the fact that he didn't try to argue with me at all. I continued, "But that's not the point right now. The point is, that when you kissed me, I saw the whole thing - our whole life. And I want it bad, Jake, I want it all. I want to stay right here and never move. I want to love you and make you happy."
"So what's stopping you?" he whispered.
"I still love him, Jake, and I don't think that'll ever go away. That's not fair to you. There's probably someone out there much better for you." My heart broke a little as I spoke, especially when I considered how much it would hurt now, if he did decide that I wasn't worth all of this trouble.
"No." Jacob shook his head. "I'm exactly right for you, Bella. It would be effortless for us - comfortable, easy as breathing. I'm the natural path your life would have taken...." The corner of his lips twitched, forming a small smile. "If the world was the way it was supposed to be, if there were no monsters and no magic..."
I could see what he saw, and I knew he was right. But I needed to make sure he understood fully. "He's like a drug for me, Jake. When I was with him, he was the only thing that mattered. I was ready to give up my life for him. But it's different with you." The corner of my mouth turned up in a wistful half-smile. "Like having my own personal sun. Not a drug, but air. You're healthier for me. So I'm choosing to have the life I want. I'm choosing to stay with Charlie and my mom. I'm choosing to have the chance to change and grow. I'm choosing to stay human. There's still a lot that we need to talk about and I'm going to need time. But I think you were right before when you said that if we had enough time you could help me be happy again. So I'm going to try. I'm going to try to stay here with you. If you decide you still want me, all things considered."
I only had to wait a second for his answer, and then I only had another second to appreciate the breathtaking smile that split his features, before he pulled me to him and crushed his lips to mine.
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#i can super easily see wwx being into engineering or physics #i think a STEM field is a fair translation of wwx's 'prodigy in revolutionizing the application of spiritual laws'#maybe he meets pre-med!wen qing #and her little brother's chronic health condition makes him start thinking about how his engineering#can be applied to the medical field #.......for some reason i keep landing on something like physical therapy for jc though? #something that's about helping people in super practical ways and in which he can hide behind a gruff no-nonsense exterior #and getting people to push through pain for long-term healing #oooooh that would mesh well with wen qing's doctor studies and wwx's curiosity #in applying engineering to medical fields #'wei wuxian you idiot you designed a machine so streamlined that you forgot a human is supposed to fit inside it' #'wei wuxian if you tried to make someone with a fresh amputation walk with that contraption you're going to forever fuck up their spine'
Okay so I’m going off my own tags on a reblog of @valdrift’s amazing art about JC and WWX being STEM majors because I can’t stop thinking about it, and would I let a complete lack of knowledge about majoring in engineering, physical therapy, or medicine stop me?
Jiang Cheng was originally an econ major (and secretly hating the shit out of it) because his parents he expected to go into accounting for the family business, but then there was a major accident that took his parents, left him in a coma, and from which Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli walked away unscathed in that weird way that freak accidents sometimes manage
Wei Wuxian donated an organ to save Jiang Cheng while he was comatose, which eliminated all possibility of WWX going professional with...something, idk, but WWX is like, hey, WORTH IT
(Jiang Yanli wanted to, but she has a chronic health condition makes her ineligible)
JC is Not Happy when he wakes up (“THAT WAS YOUR DREAM HOW COULD YOU GIVE THAT UP FOR ME” - “UM, BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FUCKIN BROTHER????” - “YOU MEAN BECAUSE OF YOUR SURVIVOR’S GUILT”)
WWX majors in physics because he’s always wanted to prove some specific European and American physicists wrong, and why not rewrite some theories in the process? It’s a Monday, he’s got nothing else going on.
(I just realized that if WWX had a YouTube channel it’d be like Olan Rogers’ stories)
(Also I just love WWX being like, “Making everyone question everything we know about everything? Hold my beer, Lan Zhan.”)
Anyway JC has to go through physio and it sucks and it’s hard and he hates everything and he’d probably give up on it if he had just a slightly smaller crush on his doctor (Lan Xichen) and if he didn’t know his doctor would make Sad Faces at him for doing so
(Nie Mingjue is his physical therapist, because imagining those interactions makes me laugh)
Jiang Yanli takes over the family company even though everyone expected JC to do it because a) JC honestly hates the idea, and b) the only reason it was JC and not JYL was because of her parents’ ableism around her health, not because she wasn’t perfectly capable of making it work and work well, thank you very much
Which means JC doesn’t have to feel guilty about not wanting to step up there and instead focus on what makes him happy, which is...a New Concept
Then all the tags listed above happen and in the end we have a joint venture of between WQ, WWX, and JC creating new mobility aids that are more comfortable for long-term use and way more affordable (or download the blueprints for free and 3D-print your own!)
LWJ majors in Chinese lit and suddenly what WWX thought was the most boring possible subject ever is Very Sexy when recited by that lovely deep voice, oof (”Fuck, just shut up, I don’t need to know what you two do in the bedroom!” - “Pfffft, didi, like you wouldn’t shoot off like a rocket if Xichen-ge read a dictionary to you in That Voice” - “SHUT THE FUCK UP”)
#mdzs#xicheng#wangxian#[/waves hand] so that happened#look my degrees are in philosophy and religion#i considered going into mortuary science because i'm cool with corpses#no pun intended#but my point is that i know Nothing of any the subjects relevant to the above#challenge accepted i guess?#jukebox fic
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You know, I don’t talk about things like this on here, but it’s time.
I am so incredibly angry, and disheartened, and exhausted.
You guys don’t know this, but I’ve struggled with an anxiety disorder (and a panic disorder) my entire life. It started when I was 7. I’m now 29. It’s been a while.
It affects things like eating, traveling, socialization, general happiness, shopping, loud situations...honestly, there are more things that trigger my anxiety than things that don’t. I live in a constant state of stress and anxiety.
Most people don’t understand this. They think they have felt anxious or get stressed in certain situations, so they expect me to cope in the same ways they do. But they don’t understand it. Let me break it down for you.
I’ve had four breakdowns in my adult life. Why? Who the fuck knows? Once it was from travel. Once it was from partying too much. Once it was from a fight with a friend. It can come from anywhere at any time. And, when this happens, I am out of commission for a YEAR. I’m not shitting you.
I lay on the couch and try to breathe through every waking second. I can’t see people. I can’t go to the store. I can’t work. I panic when the sun comes up, and I panic when the sun goes down. I panic when it storms or the lighting is a little off.
These breakdowns destroy my life, and I have to build it back up. It’s a nightmare, and I live in constant fear that the next panic attack could be the one that destroys everything I have fought so hard to build.
Anxiety has manifested itself in physical symptoms for me as well. I have had TMJ for thirteen years from grinding my teeth. I have a specialized form of eczema on my hands that is stress induced. My muscles are so tight that a massage feels like agony. I’m exhausted all the time.
I have done everything right, guys. I’ve been to therapy for two decades. I’ve taken my meds, on time, every day. I’ve meditated. I’ve studied Buddhism. I’ve challenged my fears and survived them. Still, this is my life. It is joyless.
And now, I have a job that I love. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and I’m so good at it, you guys. It pays me (almost) like I’m a human. And you know what? I had to lie to get it.
When I was interviewing, my boss told me that we have quarterly retreats all over the US for teambuilding. He asked if that would be a problem, and I lied. I did. I said, “No problem.” You know why? Because it ticked off every other box I had. It’s remote. It pays enough. It’s my dream. I thought, “I’ll figure something out before I have to take one of these trips. I’ll get better. I have to.”
Well, it’s here. The company has announced that they’ll tell us where we are traveling to within two weeks. And guys, I am so defeated. I am so angry. I can’t tell them who I am because jobs don’t give a fuck about mental illness.
If I had an illness that manifested physically, you know, besides the sweating, shaking, hyperventilating, vomiting, eczema, headaches, malnourishment, and exhaustion, then any job would be happy to accommodate my illness. But they can’t see it. It doesn’t show as a broken bone or an open wound, and it doesn’t receive the same treatment.
I spoke with my dad about it today because I was so deflated. He said, “I don’t want you to use this as an excuse.” And you know what? I apologized to him like a fucking idiot. I apologized. For being ill. THAT is how deeply ingrained shame and dismissal of mental illness is. I feel like shit because I’m sick, but I’m not allowed to be sick.
I’m stuck in this loop of self-hatred. Why is my life like this? Will I ever actually experience joy? I don’t think so. I really don’t. It’s been so long and nothing has changed. I feel hopeless. I won’t harm myself because it won’t fix anything, but God do I feel like it.
I’m tired of being punished by myself and the world at large. I deserve more than minimum wage and shitty jobs with no chance to progress and grow. I am talented and driven; I’m just ill. I can’t quite do everything everyone else can, but that doesn’t mean I’m useless. I have value. I am so fucking tired of throwing myself into tailspins to make the outside world happy and destroying myself in the process. There has to be a space for us. Someone, make a space for us. It’s literally a matter of life and death.
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Vent post, I don't even know what to tag this for content warnings. I just can't stand doctors anymore I can't do this I hate this
First there's no more digital appointments because apparently the pandemic is over and I'm the only one who didn't notice, so I had to go all the way there to see that asshole in person and stay in a waiting room with a bunch of people
The psychiatrists available through my health insurance keep changing and there are less and less of them, so I went to a neurologist, and he said he only prescribes adhd meds to children because adults understand they have to control themselves and slow down their minds. He recommended meditation and when I said I already do meditate there was no part 2 to his brilliant plan to just fix my mind myself.
He did end up giving me a prescription for my adhd meds just this once, I was actually surprised, but not not the antidepressants, so I'm gonna try to see a psychiatrist again.
I once had a psychologist tell me to "just focus" before I got my diagnosis. I could have killed her. That's brilliant, why didn't I think of that. I do know I should focus, and I also knew I shouldn't have suicidal thoughts and for some reason just knowing that didn't make me better. The meds helped. The adhd meds helped me focus, and the antidepressants helped stop constantly wishing I was dead.
I know that medication shouldn't be the be all end all, and that you have to put in the work and develop healthy coping mechanisms and all that. And I do my best to do all that and no doctor has helped me with that AT ALL. At most I got some vague suggestions that I meditate with not even any recommendations on how to start and maybe got told to exercise.
I did all the research for techniques to help by myself, listening to other people who deal with the same things, even though I worry a lot about getting misinformation, but it's not like there's anyone else to help me.
I think I should probably go to therapy again and that could he helpful, but therapist I went to for the longest, mentioned above, pretended to respect my sexual orientation only to start trying to cure my asexuality months later (well, she was probably doing it the whole time, but I was an idiot and I trusted her), she didn't "believe in diagnosis" or labels in general I guess. After I was diagnosed and started taking my meds she wanted to help me so I "wouldn't need them anymore, and could stop taking them" even though she had a fucking year to treat me before I started taking them and her best attempt to help me was to tell me to just "go there and focus".
After that, whenever I try to start therapy again on the very first appointment they ask me about my romantic life, and when I say I'm not dating anyone they tell me "that's important" so I just panic and don't show up again.
I actually think I improved a lot recently, and it definitely started with the meds, but I also got fired, and that sucked, but I think not working there anymore helped a lot. But I have much less work now and that's not sustainable, I'm not getting enough money and my parents are wasting their money on a 25 year old when they don't even have their retirement all set
I'm gonna move to a different state soon,but I don't know exactly when because there's a bunch bureaucratic bullshit to figure out, so I don't know when I need to get an appointment there instead of here, when I should be setting them up well in advance because it's been hard, and how I'll even get a doctor there since my insurance is for my state only
I can't even complain to anyone about it because the doctors' opinions will just confirm the idea that yes I shouldn't psychiatric meds, I should just live healthier and yes my asexuality is a problem that should be treated because there's something wrong with me, and I'm so tired, I'm so angry
Just give me my prescription and I'll figure myself out. No, I don't particularly wish psychiatrists would actually pay attention and ask questions and try to research things to help me any more, just give my prescription and let me go. Just don't make me prove that I actually have ADHD and that I'm not just trying to score meds every time I have to get a new psychiatrist AGAIN
#there are whole paragraphs of this nonsense that are in the wrong place I don't care anymore#what do I even tag this god#vent tag#if anyone wants to block that that's the general one#tw: suicidal ideation#tw: medical#that's a pre-existing tag medical what I don't know#mental health#aphobia#is adhd denialism a thing#adults have it but they can just fix because they know better seems like denialism to me#he thinks adhd meds are dangerous but gives them to children and not adults#wtaf#I do feel better writing it out#ask to tag any other content warnings
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Cute
Pairing: Bucky x Reader (2,6k words)
Description: Bucky has a crush on you that he can’t seem to ignore and Alpine is causing some trouble along the way.
Prompt: "Wait, did you just call me cute?" (/w Bucky)
For: @coffee-with-bucky‘s challenge.
Warnings: Nightmare, awkwardness, slight angst, fluff, not proofread
M A S T E R L I S T
A white furball was sitting on the coffee table in front of a big dark figure, early in the spring morning.
„Meow!“ Alpine voiced her opinion.
„What‘s wrong, baby girl?“ Came back from Bucky‘s voice.
„Meow.“ Her left paw went forward and tried to touch him.
„You want to be pet?“ „Meow.“ His hand came closer and she pressed her head against it.
„Rrrmeow.“ His hands both reached to scratch behind her ears.
„Yeah, you like that, needy furball.“ He chuckled.
She advanced towards him, putting her paws on his chest and booping his nose with hers.
„You‘re a sweet girl, aren‘t you?“ She licked the tip of his nose.
His smile was so giant, it was almost scary if you‘ve never seen it before.
„God, you actually look cute when your face shows emotions,“ you commented in the door frame.
He chuckled and stopped shortly after, „Wait, did you just call me cute?“
„Yeah. Happens when you‘re not looking like the death himself.“ You grinned at him.
His face was back at its usual asshole resting face.
You sat down very close to him, seeing Alpine sit down on the other side of him.
„You look good when you smile. I like that look on you.“ You smiled behind your mug.
„Meow.“ „Look she agrees.“
You reached out to squish his cheeks together and make him chuckle, which you succeed in.
„Stop.“ He grumbled and grabbed you. You, dodging it by throwing yourself against him.
„Darling!“ he threw you a stern look and you giggled, coming back up right in front of his face, seeing a smile vanish to a slight blush on his face.
„Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,“ you mumbled.
„No, no. Not at all.“ He looked down at his hands. God, he had such a crush on you, but he couldn‘t and shouldn‘t. It wouldn‘t work, he couldn‘t even hold a conversation. He was glad you even felt comfortable around him.
„Meow!“ Alpine pushed her head into his side very hard to make him move towards you.
„Alpine, no.“ He mumbled and got a protesting meow back. She was determined.
„What is she trying to tell you?“ You dipped your head to the side.
„Uh, just, nothing.“ He was so weird all of a sudden.
The furball licked her paw and then put it up in your direction before dipping her head to the side with a purr.
„Did she just...alright, wow. Can you understand us?“ You got closer to the cat but got an almost arrogant stance back.
„I ask her that all the time.“ He chuckled nervously.
„Did she mean kissing?“ You were thoroughly confused by what she had just done.
„Um.“ He looked away, blushing profusely.
Your eyes got big, „She did.“
„I need to go.“ He mumbled, grabbed the protesting cat and booked it.
-
It was your free day, until it wasn‘t. The team that was out on a mission came back in a hurry. With a baby.
„You two stay here, keep her safe. We need to find the organization trying to hurt her.“ „Where is her mom?“ „Gone. Just keep her safe. We need to go.“
And Steve and the others were already out of the compound again, leaving you with a baby in your arms.
„Friday, put the security level up.“ „Will do.“
When you came back into the living room you saw Bucky watch his favorite show without even noticing you.
Alpine made a leap off the couch to come towards you and loop through your legs.
A coo made the giant man raise a brow and turn around.
„What in the mother of-“
„They dropped her off and currently try to chase down the people wanting her for some reason.“ You shrugged and sat down next to him.
„You‘re good with children, right? I didn‘t have much family and I honestly have no idea what to do other than holding her. Help.“ You looked into his eyes helplessly.
„I haven‘t- Fine.“ He grabbed her out of your grasp.
„Friday? Do we know her name?“ „Her name is Olive.“
„Hey, I‘ll call you Lilly. Alright?“ He cooed down at the little bundle and got a little coo back.
The baby looked extra small in his grasp, but it also looked way more relaxed than with you. Her eyes got heavier and heavier the more he slightly moved her just right.
„Yeah, you probably had an exhausting day, baby girl.“ He smiled down at her.
That smile that was reserved for pets and children. That „I‘m not being judged“ smile.
„I‘d never be that good with children.“ You mumbled and had him look up.
„What? No, you‘re just not used to it. I think you‘d be great with children.“ „Really?“ „Yeah, you‘re good at taking care of people. Why not put that into a smaller version.“
He put down the little girl between the both of you on the couch and watched her sleep.
„Do you want children?“ You asked a little shy. That was a personal question to ask such a traumatized person.
„Yeah. One day.“ He smiled down at Olive and took her little hand.
„I think you‘d be a great dad.“ You smiled and saw him look up and blush.
„Um, thanks. Uh, do- Do you want children one day?“ He stammered.
„Maybe. Only if I find the right person.“ You shrugged and looked away.
„You will. I‘m sure of it,“ he answered as Olive already started to fuzz again.
Watching him be so good at this kinda made you think twice if you really wanted this one day. You felt like anyone would be more qualified at it than you.
„You got this, right? I- I think I need to just-“ You gestured towards the door before making your way out, leaving behind a confused Bucky looking at a baby in his arms and a cat that disapprovingly put her head back down.
-
He looked pretty beaten up after this particular intense mission. Two cuts in the face and a bullet wound in is side.
You sat down on his bed in the med bay, „Hey.“
„Hey.“ You got a soft smile from him.
„Do you need help with cleaning up those wounds?“ You asked reluctant.
„I mean, they only did the bullet wound, so I‘d appreciate it.“ He chuckled a bit strained.
You got everything you needed and sat down next to him again, moving his head how you needed it.
He frowned for a second before his expression eased at...whatever it eased at. You didn‘t notice the stare at your lips that kept him thoroughly distracted. It would be so easy for him to just go for it right now, but he shouldn‘t. He knew he shouldn‘t.
„Aaand you‘re all cleaned up again.“ You smiled at him and got a tiny „Thank you“ back.
„Anything else?“ You dipped your head to the side.
„What else would there be?“ He smiled.
„I could get you clothes to change into, make your hair less messy, get you some food,“ you suggested.
„Make my hair less messy. Please.“ He played the idiot in need, but he really just wanted to feel your hands in his hair.
You sat down behind him, started detangling it and sending chills down his spine. Then you started braiding little braids into it and he was sure that this was his undoing. And as you saw his shoulders relax you gave him a little scalp massage, letting him lose all the tension he was holding.
„God, I could kiss you right now. This is amazing.“ He grumbled relaxed.
„Wouldn‘t hold it against you.“ You chuckled as you sat next to him again.
„Is that so?“ He smirked.
„Yeah, well, I‘m pretty good, aren‘t I?“ „Yeah.“
There was this softness, this fuzz in the air.
-
Alpine came walking towards you in the very early morning as you wanted to get yourself some warm milk with honey to fall back asleep. Nothing she usually did. Normally she was always a step behind or ahead of Bucky. You frowned and crouched down.
„Is there something wrong, sweetie?“ „Meow.“ „I take that as a yes.“ „Meow.“
You made your way to his quarters in the compound and knocked at his door.
When there was no answer you pushed the slightly ajar door open.
„Where is he, Alpine?“ You looked down and saw her rush towards the bathroom door.
She scratched the surface lightly with soft meows. She was not a trained therapy cat but she sure as hell was one hell of a buddy. The bond they both had showed especially now.
„Bucky?“ You asked soft but nervous. Nothing.
„Alpine got me here. What is wrong? Please open the door.“ You explained and asked.
„Meow.“ Harder Scratching, paws reaching under the door.
„Friday? Can you please unlock this door?“ „Protocol: MHE. Door unlocked.“
You pushed down the handle slowly, letting Alpine rush in first before you could even see anything.
You only heard her purring before you saw her forcefully cuddle into a hunched figure.
„Bucky…“ You came towards him, sat down in front of him. Nothing. You reached out for his flesh arm to feel him. He was a little cold for his usual supersoldier warmth.
„Wait, I‘ll get you a blanket,“ you mumbled, coming back with a giant black soft throw blanket.
„Bucky, please talk to me.“ He didn‘t move the head leaning on top of one of his arms. Alpine in the small room between his thighs and his chest pushed against him.
She was purring and making biscuits on him as best as she could. Truly a good girl.
„James, at least pet Alpine. You don‘t have to talk to me, but she‘s doing a great job.“
A shaky breath left him before his free hand reached for Alpine and carefully went through her fur.
„Meow.“ She looked up at him. You just knew. She was verbally mothering him, kicking his ass.
„Thank you, Al.“ A deep, nasally and rough voice came from him before his face came up a bit so she could climb higher on his chest to be scratched.
„What happened?“ You asked softly again.
„Bad dream. Somehow you were a person brought in to make me comply and...you were killed by a drone strike somehow. God, I have a lot of gore in my mind, but that was horrible.“ You saw tears form in his eyes again and pulled him close.
„I‘m here. See? I‘m hugging you and I‘m here. You won‘t let anything bad happen to me, ever. I know that.“ You tried to soothe him.
He grabbed you, squeezed your arms, your waist, your hips, touched your hair.
„It looked so fucking bad. It was awful. I can‘t get the picture out of my head.“ He dug his face into the crook of your neck.
„Think about your favorite moment with me then. Or that mission where I accidentally shot Steve in his arm. Or when Alpine tried to tell you to kiss me.“ You chuckled.
His hands wandered up and down your body, relaxing both of you.
„You know, I really kinda want it. To kiss you, I mean.“ He stumbled over his words.
„What‘s holding you back?“ You whispered.
„My brain.“ His head came up and looked at you. You could see the troubled mind in his eyes.
„Then what‘s your heart saying?“ You asked pointing at it.
His face turned soft, „That you‘re cute.“
You went through his hair carefully, still a little concerned about him.
„I know, I should cut it off,“ he mumbled.
„Huh? No, you don‘t need to. I like you with any type of hairstyle.“ You offered him a soft smile.
„I want it short again. I don‘t wanna look like him anymore. Not after that dream.“ He shuddered at the mention.
„Now?“ You asked still going through it and saw him nod.
„Do you trust me?“ „I do.“
You got up, grabbed scissors and an electric razor from all over his bathroom, before taking his blanket away from him under protest of both him and his cat. The cat proceeded to lay down in the warm blanket pile shortly after.
You put his hair in three tails, cut them off while being watched carefully. His shoulders relaxed when that step was finished.
You proceeded to get all of his top hair up into a tail, helping with various products in spray bottles, cause you were definitely not used to doing this anymore.
Alpine jumped a little when the razor turned on, but when she saw Bucky visibly relax even more she rolled back into a furball on the blanket pile.
You shaved down his sides and back a decent amount. Not too much. You didn‘t want to make this look military style.
Then you continued with the top of his head. You didn‘t know which length would be ideal. Maybe not too short, but too long also looked off with his fluffy hair. You still wanted to indulge in playing with it though. Maybe about 3-4 cm / 1-2 inches long.
It took a while for you to figure out the way you needed to go about cutting it but you were finished with it in no time.
With soft brushes over his hair you got rid of any hair that didn‘t belong there anymore before making him stand up.
„WOAH.“ His eyes got wide as he went through his hair, looking at your quality work.
„You like it?“ „I love it.“ He looked at you in the mirror, seeing a loving shimmer in your eyes. Maybe he DID deserve you.
„We should go to bed. I only slept like 3 hours because of that,“ he mumbled and you nodded as you put out the bathroom light and closed the door behind Alpine. You padded after him, making him do a full stop and turn around a little confused.
„What?“ You asked rubbing your eyes and he really couldn‘t say no. So he did the next best thing coming to his mind, grabbed around your waist and let himself fall into his bed.
„Idiot.“ You giggled into his chest and climbed up a bit a few seconds later.
„Hey.“ He smiled up at you as you grabbed into his hair.
„Hey handsome.“ You smirked all tired before cuddling yourself against him and planting your face in his neckline.
Yeah, maybe he did deserve you.
-
In your routine of being half awake and grumpy you turned around to hit something unusual with your arm.
„Ouch.“ You heard next to you pretty monotone, then holding back laughter.
„Sorry, B.“ You pushed yourself into his grasp to fall back asleep.
„Darling, it‘s noon.“ You pried one of your eyes open to look at him judgingly.
„C‘mere,“ he cooed as he pulled you extra close.
„Didn‘t know you could show that emotion.“ You giggled as you gave him a little kiss on his cheek.
„Oh, believe me. There are a lot of emotions that are a you-only thing.“ He grinned at you and felt your hand pat up the side of his face to find the proper position.
„Show me another.“ You smiled up at him all sleepy. This was a now or in three uncomfortable weeks kinda situation. You were just enough in sleep mode for him to feel less awkward about making a move on you. So he reached for your face and finally went for that damn kiss that‘s been the topic of his life for weeks.
Your hand went through his new short hair with a hum, pushing him down for more. Yes, definitely the right decision.
#mine#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#james barnes#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#the winter soldier#captain america#mcu#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#bucky fanfic#text#angst#fluff#angsty bucky#bucky angst#bucky fluff#captain america the winter soldier
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AO3 Writing Tag
Name(s): Somedrunkpirate
Fandom(s): The man from uncle, The Witcher, Good Omens, Inception,
Where you post: Ao3
Tagged by @iamanonniemouse
Tagging: @theheirofashandfire (good luck lmao)
Most Popular One Shot (by kudos):
This year: You’re a dream, darling, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, T, 11k
There are two very important facts:
1) Aziraphale is dead.
2) None of this is real.
-----
Crowley’s throat tightens. “My angel,” he says. “My best friend. He’s dead, you know.”
Aziraphale blinks and then blood drains from his face. “No, no. Crowley. No. I’m here. I’m right in front of you.”
“I know,” Crowley says. “Isn’t it amazing, what a dream can do?”
Of all time: On The Matter Of Touch, Good omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, T, 9k
“On the matter of touch,” Crowley begins, waving his teaspoon in what he hopes passes for idle curiosity. “Thoughts?”
---
For two ineffable husbands, they don't really touch each other much. Here is a story on why that might be.
Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos):
This year: A Lover’s Lament, The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, M, 25k
So,” Jaskier begins, as casually as he can, “you are telling me, that in theory, if I were to be in love with someone — anyone — that person could well be in terrible danger?”
Of all terrible and ridiculous things that have threatened Geralt’s safety, Jaskier had never thought that loving him might be what will get him killed.
Of all time: Drowning Deep, TMFU (pacific rim au), Illya/Napoleon, M, 101k,
Don’t follow the rabbit. He knows this. Don’t fall into the rabbit hole of memories. You’ll drown.
But Illya lives there, deep in the past, it’s the only way he gets through the day.
Favorite story you’ve written so far:
This year: The Golden Ocean, TMFU, Napoleon/Illya, 85k
This story taught me to write for myself in the best and worst way. It is so hard to keep writing a prequel if it doesn’t receive a similar amount of feedback as the initial story. But I worked through it and got it done, for myself and my beta who supported me all throughout. And in the end, it’s probably my most original story I’ve written.
Of all time: A Lover’s Lament, The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, M, 25k
I think this story really shows how I’ve learned to become a better writer over the last couple of years. It’s densely packed with original lore, worldbuilding, fun character interactions and has a plot that reveals more about the characters on a second read. It also has an original female character that I feel is my first 100% successful 3d side-character who has a whole story of her own outside of the main ship plot.
Honorable mention: Cold Frost and Sunshine, TMFU, Napoleon/Illya, 50k
What initially started as purposefully the most trophy thing I’ve ever written (it’s a Hockey AU, for crying out loud), turned into an actual honest exploration of therapy and recovering from mental illness. I still get the occasional comment on it from people who said that the mental health parts really spoke to them, or that they even showed passages to Real Actual Therapists because it verbalized what they were feeling. This is the fic I always return to when I feel like my writing is worthless. Even the fic that I intended to have no deep value from the start, ended up being meaningful to people. It helps to remember that.
Fic you were nervous to post:
You’re a dream, darling, is a story where the main character experiences intense dissociation and believes his reality is a dream. I am very aware that this is an actual thing that people experience, and I wanted to make sure I was careful and respectful when handling the topic. I based the story on what I had researched and what I experienced once myself while having a bad reaction to medication + being high (really be careful with weed and adhd meds folks). I was so nervous to post it, and worried that I hadn’t trigger warned it clearly enough or something. But in the end I’ve received a lot of positive feedback from people who experience dissociation, and that meant the world to me!
How do you choose your titles?
Nine times out of ten the title is just kind of There, sometimes before I write it even. If not, I usually take inspiration from a line somewhere in the fic. Only once I needed to consult the poetry gods.
Do you outline?
Does daydreaming the story a bunch count as outlining? I usually have some vague ideas about upcoming scenes and possible endings, but for my larger fics those ideas get thrown out and I flail around for something else. I think Lover’s is so succinct because I had most of it already in my head when starting, whereas with Drowning Deep I had no clue what had actually happened to break the characters apart until like chapter three. So I guess it depends on the fic and whether I have to due to a big bang sign up or something.
Complete
51 fics (556k). This year: 9 (180k)
In-Progress:
The Angel of Greenwich: A good omens detective story set in the 1920′s, 22k.
In The Dark We Travel: Geraskier (the witcher) sci fi au, 28k.
They’re both on a hiatus because pandemic times are fucking with me, but I’m chipping away at them and could use the encouragement.
Coming Soon/Not Yet Started:
Tragic Superbat alternate universe shenanigans: Clark gets switched with Alternate Universe Clark, who has been in a relationship with Bruce for years. Bruce falls in love with AU-Clark while also trying to get his Clark back (who he is convinced still hates him).
Amnesia Jaskier with magical powers: Jaskier gets kidnapped and made into a powerful sorcerer, but the process removes all his memories. Geralt finds him completely dependent on the same mage that kidnapped him, and has to convince him that 1) Geralt is his friend and 2) Jaskier is not a dangerous monster, as the mage has convinced him. Very tragic all around.
Original femslash idea, Stern Orc Woman with golden heart and ADHD Monk. Can only end in chaos.
The Bullington Club: an original idea of a group of idiot lords looking for treasure and taking their longsuffering servants/guards with them on the ride. Aka that thing that completely got out of hand brainstorming with @theheirofashandfire
#writerly rambles#myfic#fic rec#geraskier#geraskier fic#geralt of rivia#Jaskier#witcher#the witcher#geralt/jaskier#witcher fic#Ineffable Husbands#Aziraphale#Crowley#Aziraphale/Crowley#Good Omens#GO#Good Omens Fic#Good Omens Fanfic#Good Omens Fanfiction#Ineffable Husbands fic#Ineffable Husband fanfic#GO fic rec#boi#i guess i did write something this year#sure did not feel like it
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