#i can explain this entire chart cause i spent way too much time thinking about it

[mythtiide]

hot take

#i can explain this entire chart cause i spent way too much time thinking about it #fnati #monarchy speaks

[ahundredtimesover]

Inevitable (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected/protected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 7.7k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: I do love me some angst but I enjoy writing soft moments just as much. I hope you enjoy this one, too! Thank you for the appreciation for this story :) Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist (or if I missed tagging you)!

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##

The place that Jungkook chose is a little French cafe that has a light and airy feel to it, and you think it’ll help Jungwon feel a little less intimated. There also aren’t many people around, which is surprising for a Saturday brunch hour. 

You make out the table far back, by the glass window where you can see the flowers outside. Next to Jungkook is Jin, then Namjoon and Ara. The empty seats reserved for you and Jungwon are those in front of Jungkook and beside him.

You approach them, with everyone except for Jungkook - who just nods at you - standing up to give you a hug, with Jin spending more time than usual. With everything that’s happened, you didn’t realize how much you’ve missed your friends, too. They were collaterals of this whole ordeal; now you’re glad that you feel like starting over with them as well.

Jungwon stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist when Jin comes close. He’s an unfamiliar face so it’s natural for the little one to be shy and hide behind you, like what he usually does, but he loosens up when you talk to him and make him feel comfortable, so you excuse yourself because you want him to feel comfortable around Jungkook.

You find an empty chair by the wall and sit Jungwon there.

“Hey sweetcheeks, we’re going to meet some of Mama’s friends, okay? They’re new people but they’re very kind and funny,” you say, kneeling down in front of him. 

You get the brown backpack he’s wearing and take out his stuffed elephant, one of his many playmates that he likes to bring around. You place Mr. Choochoo in his arms, explain to him what you’ll do and that he can have some sweets later. 

“Okay, Mama. I want some cookies,” he says in his tiny voice. 

You tell him you’ll order some and pinch his cheeks, then you kiss his forehead, causing him to giggle, and you kiss him some more because you know this also makes him feel relaxed. 

Jungkook watches from afar, the pang on his chest reminding him of the time lost, and he wonders if he’ll ever be like that with his own son. Jungwon is at a critical stage where trust is being developed, and Jungkook wants to be someone whom his son can trust. 

The feeling in his chest grows as you approach them again. You give him a smile and help seat Jungwon next to his father.

“You remember the other day when you broke your airplane? Someone fixed it for you, right?” You ask.

Jungwon nods, eyes still focused on you.

“Good, because he’s here. Look,” you say, pointing to Jungkook. “He’s the kind man who helped you.”

Jungwon turns and looks at Jungkook, who returns his curious gaze with a grin. The little one is probably familiarizing himself with the man in front of him, as he nods and shyly smiles. 

“Hi, buddy. I’m Jungkook,” he says and waves. “What’s your name?”

“Jungwon,” he whispers.

“How old are you?”

He responds by raising his hand to show four fingers. 

“And when’s your birthday?”

“July 6!” Right as he answers, it registers to him, causing him to beam, the kind that reaches his cheeks and Jungkook’s heart is soaring. And just like that, the pang in his chest is gone.

You mirror Jungwon’s smile, knowing that’s enough of an icebreaker. He’s a sensitive kid who remembers kindness, and that day at the grocery, he saw it in Jungkook. You could chalk it up to some father-son connection if you like, but you also know that Jungwon tends to gravitate towards other gentle people, too.

The brunch goes surprisingly well, with Namjoon directing the conversations, knowing that it would still take some time to really settle into what was once familiar. 

Days like this used to be a weekly engagement filled with jokes and unfiltered comments and hand holding between you and Jungkook, but everyone seems to be careful, reserved, almost unsure, like the glass will break at any wrong move. 

Perhaps you’re all just giving this time for both father and son to be familiar and comfortable with each other. You know it will take a while but it’s something you don’t mind at all. 

Jin is talking about his recent trip to Japan and his new ideas for another restaurant and you’re engrossed in his stories, until soft laughter catches your attention. 

You turn to Jungwon, who’s laughing at Jungkook as he uses the macarons for eyes and makes weird faces, the latter pulling the sweets apart into smaller pieces and giving them to Jungwon who easily chews them. He offers Jungkook pieces of his cookies too, who dramatically devours them.

“My cookies!” Jungwon giggles.

You soften at the sight and excuse yourself before tears pour out and you will yourself to get it together in the washroom. You knew it was going to be a heartwarming proper meeting of the two but you weren’t ready for that kind of moment. 

For all his shyness, Jungwon seems to be really comfortable with Jungkook, who’s doing so well, too, letting your child take the lead, not forcing anything, and being his usual sweet self. 

Soon enough, brunch is over and you inform them of having to leave right away to make it to Jungwon’s dentist appointment in time. You place him in the car seat and turn to Jungkook, who’s now able to properly look at you, probably for the first time this whole day.

He opens his mouth to say something but his eyes lock in on your neck instead, a familiar piece of jewelry gracing the delicate feature. He stills and you’re confused, until you realize he’s looking at the necklace you’re wearing, the one with the moon and stars that he’d given you on your first year anniversary. 

He told you that it was because you light his darkest nights and you squirmed at the cheesiness, smacking his arm and threatening him of getting rid of it if he ever spewed disgusting shit like that again. He loved that reaction, but deep down, you both knew that he was telling the truth. 

It was that piece of him you could keep to yourself, one you didn’t have to share nor explain to anyone else. Out of everything you kept of your time together, the necklace was the only thing that didn’t make you break down every time.

You keep your thoughts at bay then nod at him and ask him what he meant to say.

“I’d really like to do this more,” he utters, eyes on your face now. “And not just on weekends. Whenever we can work out a schedule, that would be great. I mean, he and I have so much to—“

“Of course, Jungkook,” you cut him off, knowing he meant to say that there’s so much time to make up for and you don’t want today’s meeting to end on that note. “Let’s work something out, I’m sure Jungwon would love that, too.”

You exchange numbers, as well as awkward smiles, like you’re some teenagers saying goodbye on their first date. It’s a little refreshing though - way better than the last time when he was shouting and crying in front of you. 

Any passerby may think it’s the makings of a romantic relationship, but if they only knew. You loved this man, and quite frankly, you’re unsure if you ever stopped.

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” You finally say.

“Okay then. I’ll see you.”

**

It’s not lost on you and Jungkook that you’re both on very unfamiliar territory. 

During your time together, you’d had moments wherein you weren’t particularly fond of each other or weren’t in the mood yet had been comfortable in the silence. The tension was never overwhelming and you just let the moment pass until all was good again. 

The longest fight you had lasted for 3 days. Yoongi called for a celebratory dinner over his song making it to the top of the charts and you were ignoring Jungkook, who sat next to you talking to your other friends. 

It was  an hour later when he eventually pulled you in a hug, and whispered that he missed you and won’t be drinking banana milk for a whole week as punishment for accidentally deleting your entire midterm paper. You caved in then, laughed and deemed it punishment enough, and spent the rest of the night working on said paper in your dorm, a behaved Jungkook playing mobile games next to you.

When it came to both of you, no silence was too loud, no conversation was ever unwanted, and no moment was ever too tense and uncomfortable. 

Except for that time in your apartment. 

And maybe now, when you’re both seated in front of each other, Jungwon to your left and of all times, decided that he just has to finish coloring the butterfly from his art class. There are two seats that have been empty the past 15 minutes, and you and Jungkook have been engulfed in the most awkward silence there is, even with the background chatter of the restaurant you’re in.

Days after the brunch and official meet up almost two weeks ago, Jungkook had asked to grab dinner - you picked up Jungwon from daycare after you were off at 6PM and headed to the restaurant with Taehyung in tow, only to find Jimin accompanying his best friend. Two days later, the same thing happened, only with Namjoon and Jin that time. 

The Sunday after that, you had both Namjoon and Taehyung with you - because your brother wouldn’t confirm immediately and you needed a backup - as you and Jungwon walked to the park, only to find Jin and Jimin there as well. Everyone, of course, burst out laughing but neither you nor Jungkook found it funny. 

“What are we, your chaperones?” Jin had asked then, laughing at the whole situation upon realizing what you and Jungkook had both been up to, calling up friends to join you on the weekly father-and-son dates. “You’re both adults who can very well manage conversations, don’t you think?” Jin continued.

You and Jungkook had shyly stolen glances at each other, nervous to be caught looking at the other’s reaction, because Jin had been right. You can only wonder what Jungkook's reasons are but you were calling them up to accompany you because you don’t actually know how to carry a conversation with Jungkook anymore. 

You don’t know what to say that isn’t an apology, you’re nervous to talk about Jungwon and make Jungkook feel bad again for how much he’s missed out on, and you can’t really talk about yourself because this isn’t about you - it’s about your son and the relationship he needs to develop with his father.

Never mind the feeling of longing, of the curiosity over what made Jungkook come home, of the interest in his life in the US and how he’s been doing. 

Never mind that you want to hug him because everything has been overwhelming and Jungkook always knew how to make you feel better with his hugs and caresses. You don’t have that right anymore, you think. You don’t have the right to ask about his life after you broke his heart, you don’t have the right to miss him, nor to get to know him all over again. 

You need your brother and your best friend not just to carry conversations but also as support when you feel weak, as you observe Jungwon be so natural around his father. 

Jungkook had only introduced himself by his name but Jungwon had taken to calling him Cookie Monster since their moment during that first brunch. No uncle, no anything, and you hope it stays that way. 

Jungkook had also been bringing different brands of chocolate milk and you’d overheard him describe the taste and texture like a 4 year old would understand, and Jungwon had been asking you to buy each brand that Jungkook had introduced. 

You'd heard him ask your son about his favorite animals, what he likes to eat when he’s sad or happy, and what his favorite bedtime stories are. You’d felt your heart balloon in size at this, how careful and thoughtful Jungkook still is, how gentle and caring, and how careful, seeing as he stops himself from ruffling Jungwon’s hair or engulfing him in a hug. 

You felt like crying when you’d seen your son answer every question with enthusiasm then ask Jungkook the same things, too, and even more when he finishes coloring and tugs Jungkook to ask if he likes it.

It’s those moments that break and hold you up at the same time. It hurts to be reminded of what you deprived them of but it’s also comforting to see how natural everything has been for them. 

Jungwon is shy but gravitates towards those he connects with, that he feels comfortable around, people who are like him. It’s why he’s very fond of Taehyung, and why he runs to Namjoon to be carried on his shoulder or to be tossed in the air because your brother may be serious yet clumsy but he’s careful and gentle when it comes to your son.

You used to think that if you hadn’t been a single parent, Jungwon wouldn’t be as close to you, seeing your lack of gentleness. You’d only learned to be so because you’d treated him like a fragile being, out of the fear of what would’ve happened if the fetal distress wasn’t detected as early as it was. If anything, your son has taught you to be more tender, affectionate, more loving.

You cried so many nights in the room you shared with him, and you wanted to believe that his lack of crying as an infant was because he was giving you the time and space for it, that it was okay. He was quiet, barely caused trouble, and you also believed it was his way of telling you that you can depend on him not to make things too hard, too. You’d held him so tightly every night as he grew older, and he learned to do the same. 

In the moments that he'd caught you breaking down because of work or other things, he’d climb on your lap and hug and kiss you until you stopped crying. Like that one time when you randomly went on social media and saw the engagement rumors between Jungkook and Korean-American model-actress Maia Park. It was two years ago. It’s what also convinced you to finally, finally let Jungkook go and move on. 

Jungwon hugged you until he fell asleep, and you hugged him even tighter, as the hope of you three being a complete family died that day. Since then, you’d stopped checking social media and stopped religiously following the Dodgers’ games, only using them as background noise since Jungwon somehow found throwing and hitting balls amusing. Like father, like son, you used to think. 

You don’t realize you’d reminisced again until your phone beeps, the same time as Jungkook’s does. You’ve been in this restaurant for over 15 minutes and your friends are never late.

“Jimin says that he was asked to stay for costume fitting,” Jungkook says, reading the text message.

“Taehyung says that he tripped on a block and ended up splashing the entire paint can he was holding on his wall and it looks like the shape of a pretty tree and now he’s filled with inspiration and wants to repaint it,” you say in one breath, causing Jungkook to laugh at your deep exhale after.

“Hmm, very original,” he says.

“Very Taehyung, you mean. At least Jimin’s excuse is more believable,” you answer back.

“Well, they pulled the stops tonight, didn’t they? Reminds me of that time when Yoongi treated all of us because his song topped the charts. He said that he actually just had a minimal role and that wasn’t a cause for a celebration,” Jungkook shrugs. “You’d been mad at me for days and I kept complaining so they admitted setting it up so we could see each other.”

“Are you serious? All this time? I was so proud of Yoongi for that, kept bragging to my friends that he was big time because of that song,” you laugh, willing your heart to not go overboard with its beating because the most that Jungkook has spoken to you when he wasn’t angry, it’s to recall a memory of you together. 

“Well, they tricked us then but they’re very transparent right now.”

You laugh again and you pinch yourself for overreacting to not-so-funny statements. You hate that even after all this time, Jungkook still makes you feel giddy. Now, there’s just an added desire for him to pay attention, for you to impress him, a complete opposite of how you started years ago.

It’s silent for a while, and you and Jungkook turn to Jungwon at the same time, probably thinking the same thing that the kid will be your distraction but his eyes have been focused on the butterfly, and he’s not budging. Not even when you ask how he’s doing because he just replies with a hum and you know that’s code for don’t disturb me, I’m busy. 

“We should order,” Jungkook finally says, and it takes another couple of minutes before you both decide on what you’ll have. 

With no other source of distraction, Jungkook settles on making the first move.

“So… how are things? How’s work?” He asks, sipping on his glass of water like it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

“Good. I, uhm, work for an events management company so we do parties, fundraisers, bazaars, things like that. It’s a lot of work but my boss is very kind and lets me take some days off to compensate for working on weekends and stuff,” you respond, willing yourself to be more comfortable.

“Oh, so it’s not the marketing firm anymore, that’s great. Namjoon said you worked over 12 hours then and I can’t imagine how tiring that must be.”

“You talked to my brother… about me?” You ask, trying not to read into it much. You assumed they only talked about meeting Jungwon, but Namjoon never mentioned anything more and you wonder why.

“Yeah, I just, uh…” Jungkook stammers, trying to come up with an excuse but he knows you’ll see right through him.

“I just asked how things were for you during uh, the pregnancy, and after.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to know if there were any issues with Jungwon’s birth, you know? Wanted to know if he got everything he needed…”

You wince at the insinuation that you wouldn’t make sure that Jungwon would get everything he needed and Jungkook picks up on this and tries to save himself before it’s too late, before you think he’s an asshole for making such an assumption.

“I mean, of course he did. Not that I don’t think you didn’t make sure he got the best of everything.”

“I tried my best, Jungkook, and you’ve spent time with Jungwon. He’s doing well, I’d like to think that has much to do with how I raised him,” you say, your tone a mix of sadness and anger. You never had to defend yourself for how you raised your child, especially not to his father. But you also can’t blame Jungkook, especially when you’re the one who didn’t make him a part of your son’s life. 

“I know, he’s such a smart and kind child. I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t do your best. That came out wrong, I’m sorry,” he says, and you believe him. “I guess I just wanted to ask if there was anything lacking or that needed extra attention so I’d know what to compensate for, like medical bills or vitamins or other things?” 

He’s right, and it makes sense. It definitely has nothing to do with him asking how you were doing, how the pregnancy and the aftermath was like for you. 

“What about school? Other activities like sports or art clubs? Maybe he’s into music, we can enroll him in—”

“Jungkook…”

“Please don’t tell me not to help financially because you know I will. Not just because I’m obligated to but because I want to,” he sighs.

“Yeah, I guess we need to talk about that…” You say nervously.

“I can cover everything he needs. Does he need to switch to a better school? He’ll be in primary school next year, right? Are there other toys he wants? Maybe I can—“

“I’m doing perfectly fine in providing those, Jungkook. He doesn’t need ‘more’ or ‘better.’”

“I’m not saying you aren’t, I’m just saying I can help so that…”

He holds your gaze, knowing he can’t make you feel like he’s antagonizing you. When he asked Namjoon what you went through, he admits he wanted to feel some form of pity, as if to mask or replace the overwhelming feeling of pain and anger. Anything would’ve been better than those. 

After that, the feeling turned to sadness, to helplessness, like defeat, knowing there was nothing he could’ve done to make it easier for you, to make you understand that you didn’t have to do it all by yourself just because you made a decision all on your own.

Having spent even just a short amount of time with Jungwon, he knows that his son was very much loved, was given all the best things in the world and that’s because of you - you who refused to give him less, you who worked so hard and gave everything you could, running on the sheer amount of love you have for your child even if things were difficult. Jungkook doesn’t want you to feel alone, especially in providing for Jungwon. 

What Namjoon said hit him, how you only ever asked help if it was about your son, but never when it was about you. Jungkook knows you still wouldn’t, so he’ll make sure to ease the financial burden, the worry, the stress, the amount of time you spend taking care of your child that’s taken away from the time you spend taking care of yourself. 

Because he’s noticed - he’s noticed the bags under your eyes, the slight shaking of your hands that’s probably from the excessive amount of caffeine intake, your work phone that constantly buzzes even when you’re off the clock, your consumption of sodas that signifies your heightened stress. 

There’s a droopiness to your face, a mark of tiredness that’s laid permanent residence in your whole being. He doesn’t even wanna ask when the last time you had proper rest was. 

“I’m saying I can and want to help so you can have time for yourself, too,” he continues. “So you won’t feel the need to clock in extra hours or take extra jobs, so you can have actual time of not worrying about anything. I mean, kids can sense if their parents are stressed and they can acquire that...”

Your eyes widen at his statement again, causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration because he’s really not saying this the way he wants to, but then he also doesn’t know how to tell you these things without him sounding like he believes you’re not good enough for Jungwon. Because you are, more than he can imagine. 

“I’m terrible at this,” Jungkook says.

But you laugh. You laugh because he looks stressed and worried over what he’s telling you but you get him. Mad as he was a few weeks ago, you know he’d never harbor such terrible feelings towards you to the point of doubting your capabilities as a mother. 

You wish he means more, though, but you settle for this. He will help in all ways he can because he doesn’t want you to be too stressed out. Jungwon is at the age where he can pick these things up; your habits are things he can acquire and you don’t want that.

“It’s okay, I understand,” you smile, and it’s the softest one you’ve given Jungkook since he’s arrived. 

“Jungwon will be starting primary school next year so there’s this kindergarten I saw; they balance the learning with the arts really well and they do a lot of field trips and I think it’s a good transition to first grade.”

“That sounds really good. So that’s where you plan to enroll him this fall?”

“Yeah. It’s private though, and it’s affiliated with the primary school I was hoping to enroll him in next year, that’s also private. I was gonna get a loan from the bank and—”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. I can take care of his fees in kindergarten and daycare too, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s too much, Jungkook.”

“It’s not. You’ve worked too hard the past 5 years. You can take care of the other essentials because you know him best. Let me take care of the others, and vitamins too and check ups and stuff. Please.”

He’s insistent and you know he won’t budge. You also know it’s his right and obligation to do all this.

“Okay, then. Whatever I save can go to his college fund.”

“Which I’ll also be contributing to…”

“Yes, that’s correct,” you smile. 

The food arrives and the silence isn’t as suffocating. It’s a first step, deciding on the financial aspect of raising your child. You know there are many others, but there’s definitely one very important one to discuss.

Jungkook clears his throat and peeks at Jungwon who’s busy with his stew, mindless of the others around him, with you constantly wiping his cheeks and reminding him to drink his water. You turn to Jungkook with a curious gaze.

“When can we uh, tell him about me?”

Of course. When will you tell your son that Cookie Monster is actually his father? 

“Oh, uhm. Well. He’s definitely comfortable around you already. But I think it’ll take some more time. I don’t wanna rush him because it’s big news since it’s just been me and his uncle Taehyung and uncle Namjoon for a long time and…”

“No one else?”

“What do you mean, no one else? I mean of course there’s Jimin but they don’t see each other as much and…”

“You know what I mean,” he says softly, as if he doesn’t want to directly say it.

“Oh. Uhm. Well, I dated someone before but like, it wasn’t—“

“Did he want to be Jungwon’s father? Did Jungwon like him?”

“I don’t introduce men I go out with to Jungwon, Jungkook. I mean, the men know I have a son but I never introduce them.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you need to ask? It’s only you. It’s always just gonna be you.” 

“Has he asked about… me?”

“Just twice. He’s curious but he doesn’t dwell on it.”

Jungkook just nods, taking everything in.

“I always planned on telling you, Jungkook. I hope you know that. I just needed the right time, and I had to figure it out especially after your en…” You pause, hoping not to open this can of worms because things are already going well.

“My what?”

“Your supposed engagement with…”

“Those were rumors, ___. We were never engaged, never planned on it,” he corrects.

“So you two aren’t…?”

“We broke up over a year ago.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Relieved?” He smirks.

“Just thought that, you know, Jungwon will have another mother and he’ll call her like, Mommy or Mother or something and she might be more fun and gorgeous and—“

“Hey,” Jungkook interrupts your rambling. He chooses not to comment on your now glassy eyes, which stare at his hand that’s found itself on top of yours. He immediately removes it and calls for you to look at him.

“That’s not happening, okay? And if I did marry someone else, that woman will just be a stepmother by name. You’re Jungwon’s mother, the only one. No one will be more fun and gorgeous in his eyes, you got that?”

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Thank you.”

You decide to dial it back before your thoughts go elsewhere. “But going back to your question, let’s play it by ear, is that okay? He’s very attentive so he’ll maybe ask more about you one day. I also don’t want to rush him.”

“Sure, I mean. I don’t wanna scare him away too. We’ve been making progress.”

“I know! He’s very natural around you.”

“Doesn’t mind me when he’s coloring or eating, though,” Jungkook pouts.

“You’re not alone in that,” you laugh. “This one time, he was coloring this picture of a unicorn and I was trying to get his attention because it had been a long day and I wanted a hug and he shushed me and told me to be quiet. Like, this little kid really shushed me, huh?”

“Is he really as sweet as we believe him to be?” Jungkook laughs.

“Actually, when he was finished, he went to my lap and hugged and kissed me, told me not to be sad anymore.”

“Okay I’ll never doubt him again,” he smiles.

“And then there was one time, I baked muffins and I asked him to try so he was nibbling the edges, then the crown. And he was taking his time! And I kept asking if it was good and he was just humming until there was just the center left that had some chocolate custard and he ate it in one bite and was just smiling at me then…”

You pause at Jungkook’s longing smile, the kind where he’s happy but also wishes he’d been there.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…”

“No, no. Please. I wanna hear these stories. Don’t hold back. Don’t mind how I react,” Jungkook explains. “At least I won’t have to imagine how he was like growing up.”

Your heart warms at this, at the shift from the angry man the other week to one who’s now softening at the stories of your son, something that’s making you feel a hundred times better. 

Jungkook meant it when he said that he just wants to focus on what happens next. He’s spent so many sleepless nights thinking about the night of the break up, what went wrong, how different things would be, all the what if’s in your relationship, and in his relationship with his son. 

He has let himself feel all the negative emotions towards you and he didn’t like it, didn’t like that he could feel all that for the woman who’d been his world, his light, the love of his life. He doesn’t want to focus anymore on the time lost but on the time he can make up for, for the time that he now has. 

You indulge him, tell him stories about Jungwon, how he was a little late with talking and used to write letters from right to left, how you worried about this but how it was easily addressed, being that Ara is a developmental pediatrician and had taught you different practices to ensure his speech and cognitive skills are in tune with his developmental stage. 

You talk about his first steps, his first trip to the park, and how he’s afraid of the water - just like his mother, Jungkook says. You talk about how he likes fish so much so he doesn’t eat them, but that he loves vegetables and would only throw tantrums if he doesn’t get to eat sweets. 

And you talk about how respectful he is, charming in his own shy and soft ways but a fighter all the same, how he’s very smart and can do many things on his own.

“He really took the best parts of us, don’t you think?” Jungkook says, as he looks at Jungwon who’s coloring a ladybug this time. “Strong and independent like you, charming and cute like me?”

You burst into laughter. “You think those are your best qualities?” You ask.

“I mean there’s more and I could definitely list them all now but also, look at him! He’s so adorable, and he got that from me!”

“He is, and he did get that from you, I won’t lie,” you say, something that you always thought about, how the universe was cruel and wonderful at the same time for gifting you a child who looks just like the man you loved with all your heart, who reminded you everyday of what you lost and of, ironically, what you still had. 

“He has your lips, though, and those scrunched eyebrows when he’s focused,” he points out, and he says it with so much affection. “I’m sure there’s more he got from you and I can't wait to discover them all.”

“Me, too, Jungkook. Me too,” you say, ignoring the thrumming of your heart.

It’s Jungwon’s yawn that forces you and Jungkook out of your bubble again, not realizing the time that’s passed. You’re glad you had an early clock out today so at least it’s not yet too late and the little one can make it to bed on time. 

The dinner ends and Jungkook walks you and a sleepy Jungwon to your car, the silence a welcome one this time.

“So, I have a busy rest of the week so uhm, can we meet on Saturday? There’s a park with this cool playground near my apartment; I think Jungwon will like it there. We can have lunch after,” Jungkook says as you close the backseat door.

“Of course! Just text me the address and the time and we’ll be there,” you respond, liking this new dynamic between the both of you, texting each other on when and where to meet, freed up schedules and all. 

You both stand there awkwardly though, unsure how exactly to end the night, given that your friends had ditched you both. Your phones beeping saves you this time.

“How was it?” You and Jungkook say at the same time.

“They’re not even being subtle about it,” he laughs. 

“I bet they’re actually together right now, thinking of the best time to message,” you say.

“Probably not expecting we’d go on this long, too,” he mumbles, peering up to look at you with that shy smile of his, and you hope there’s no physical manifestation of how flushed you are right now.

“It was a good night. Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Thanks, too. So, uh, I’ll go ahead,” he says, then nods and turns away. It was a good night, and it was the first time that he felt comfortable, light. Like things were okay, like things are really going to get better. 

His mind goes back to weeks ago at your apartment - how he acted, the anger seeping through him, and how you looked - tears falling helplessly down your cheeks, a sight he’s never seen before, and one he doesn’t want to see again. He couldn’t hold you then, he didn’t have the mind nor the heart to. He’s not sure if he’s ready now, so he settles with words instead.

“___,” he calls out.

You turn around, not really expecting anything else, and for a moment, your heart stops beating.

He walks towards you with a shy look on his face, although his eyes avoid yours.

“I just, uh. I just wanted to apologize for that day at your apartment when I—“

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—“

“Just let me, please,” he interjects you this time, his voice soft, and a long breath escapes him. “I’m sorry.”

“I won’t accept it. You shouldn’t be sorry for the things you said because they’re what you felt. They’re warranted and—“

“Then I’m sorry for how I said them. That’s, that’s not who I am. You didn’t deserve that,” he stammers.

“I did,” you respond, and there’s a pang in his chest at your resigned tone. “And it’s okay. I would’ve reacted the same way.”

“I know I’ll never truly understand why, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for him.”

“He might’ve been unplanned but it doesn’t mean he’s a mistake. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” you say, meeting his eyes.

It’s a moment you share that needs no words, and Jungkook nods and leaves it at that because deep in his heart, he knows that Jungwon is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, too.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” He says.

You mumble an okay and head out, forcing yourself to stop smiling like an idiot the whole drive back home.

[To: Jungkook] We’re home. Thank you again.

[From: Jungkook] Alright! I had a really good time tonight. Sleep well, you two. Good night :) 

And with that, you don’t stop smiling like an idiot until you fall asleep.

**

You trip over trains and dolls on the floor, hastily putting them in the box that houses most of Jungwon’s toys. You place all the laundry in the washing machine, quickly fix your bed, and remove the clutter on the coffee table. 

By some not-so-great turn of events, you had a client schedule a 2PM meeting on a Saturday that you couldn’t turn down, which meant that you then had to meet your team at 11AM to prepare. 

You’re glad that Jungkook didn’t make a fuss about it when you called him in the morning, saying that you can’t make it to the park like you agreed to do. You trust him dearly but it’s still too early in the getting-to-know-you stage, so you’re not sure how Jungwon will take it if he spends the day with Jungkook without you. You expected him to reschedule but said his Sunday is full and asked if he could just go to your place instead.

“He and I can just play or watch cartoons, is that okay? I was really hoping to spend today with him but if it’s too much, that’s fine,” Jungkook said over the phone.

You didn’t have the heart to turn him down so you agreed. 

You tried to do whatever cleaning up you can manage because you didn’t want him to judge you for still being a little messy and you wanted everything organized while you focused on your meetings.

With Jungwon bathed and with snacks placed on the table, you think you’re ready for your guest, who should be arriving right about now.

The doorbell rings and it’s a familiar sight, but a welcome one. You lead Jungkook in, tell him it’s just a humble one-bedroom apartment and he waves you off. He settles the lunch he bought on the table - noodles and seafood pancakes, Jungwon’s favorites, you'd mentioned. 

“He’s in the room, I’ll go get him,” you say, and walk the several steps to your bedroom.

Jungkook looks around and takes it in. He was too angry the last time he was here so he didn’t pay much attention. It’s pretty clean, he thinks, and laughs at the thought that you probably did a quick clean up before he arrived since you’re not usually this organized. Or maybe that’s changed with you too, as with other things. 

“Hey, buddy,” Jungkook greets. He kneels and tells Jungwon that they’ll be spending time today while Mama works and Jungwon says he’s excited. He leads Jungkook to your not-so-grand living room and takes out some dinosaurs from one box, mumbling about them being in trouble, then opens another one. 

“Then Ironman saves them all!” Jungwon announces. 

The look on Jungkook’s face is unrivaled, the kind you secretly have been hoping for, hence why you deliberately kept this from him; you wanted Jungwon to be the one to reveal his undying love for the superhero. You’re surprised he’s never mentioned it before, but you also think that he wanted to show-off his toy collection first.

“You’ve been holding out on me!” Jungkook tells you. “He… We… We both believe in Ironman supremacy, ___. He’s really my—”

You nudge his shoulder before he prematurely reveals the truth, and you laugh at his expression and his wide eyes as he goes through the Ironman box because of course it has its own, as all the toys are delicately placed inside. 

Jungkook is in awe but really, it’s not much. They’re all just different versions of the same dolls and cars. You’ve tried to limit this because Jungwon will outgrow them at one point, but thinking about Jungkook’s continued love for the superhero, you think Jungwon actually might not.

The two get in their groove immediately and sit side-by-side, Jungwon introducing each of his toys because each Ironman has a different name. Jungkook indulges him and starts making sounds and Jungwon joins him until it’s just a chorus of pppshssss and bangbangbang and pfffffftpboom and you can’t help but laugh along. 

Taehyung always deemed those superhero movies to be too loud so he wasn’t into the toys either, and Namjoon would always end up explaining the science and ethics of superpowers as if his nephew is one of his college students, so for Jungwon to have someone who just gets him, even if it’s just about making sounds and making Ironman toys fly and protect the dinosaurs from a meteor, you’re happy that the little one is happy.

You leave them for a while and set the table, asking them over to eat with neither one standing up.

“Kids,” you call their attention, hands on your waist now. “Can we have lunch now please before Mama has to get ready for work?”

This feels so domestic and so real. You miss the way Jungkook’s lips form into a smile as you refer to yourself in third person and sound as if you’re reprimanding them. Since Jungkook has found out about Jungwon, he never imagined he’d actually get to experience this.

You clear your throat and it’s a sign for Jungkook that he has to follow, as the adult, so he gets the little one’s attention and brings all the toys on the table to join you three as you eat. 

It’s hilarious as they both converse with their toys and essentially leave you out but you let them, choosing instead to bask in this scene and the joy painted on both their faces. You wish this moment together wouldn’t end, though, but you also know that may be too much to ask. Jungkook is here to get to know your son, and that’s that.

You let them settle in the living room as you go from one meeting to another, stealing glances every once in a while just so you’ll have another memory of them bonding seared in your brain, for times when you need to feel better, when you want to feel happy. 

The rest of the afternoon goes that way. They go from saving the dinosaurs, to watching cartoons, then playing with blocks, earning them scowls and laughter every time those tip over and crash, creating loud sounds and distracting your work. But you smile immediately at their panicked and guilty faces, until they proceed to do the same thing.

It’s around 5PM when you finish, exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungwon surprisingly still has energy, but you see him forcing it because he wants to keep playing.

“Let’s go for an early dinner, yeah? I can order some pizza then you two can start preparing for bed,” Jungkook offers. 

You mindlessly nod from the dining table as you put away your laptop and notebook. “That sounds good, Jungkook. Thank you,” you respond.

“And maybe you can take a nap first while we wait. I’ll help him clean up the mess, too.”

You smile at this. Despite everything, he’s still the same thoughtful and considerate man you met all those years ago. You nod and head to them, kneeling in front of Jungwon who’s now sitting so closely to Jungkook.

“Hey, sweetcheeks. Mama’s tired so I’ll just get some rest, okay? You’ll be fine with Cookie Monster over here?” You ask.

“Yes, Mama,” he says, and proceeds to hug you and kiss your nose. 

“Okay, love you my little bug,” you say, and head to your room for a quick nap, not before you call out that Jungwon only eats cheese pizza.

**

It’s the knock on your bedroom door that wakes you, signaling that the food has arrived.

You head to the dining room, still clad in your leggings and pink sweatshirt, and Jungkook does a double take at your sleepy eyes, scrunched up nose, and messy hair. You’re still so adorable after a nap, but he shakes off the thought before you catch him with a silly smile on his face.

It’s Jungwon’s elephant and tiger stuffed toys having dinner with you this time, and unlike earlier in the day, there’s less theatrics and you all settle on small conversations, definitely tired but satisfied. 

Jungwon is busy munching on the cheese and the soft parts of the dough, Jungkook is watching him in amusement, and you’re watching Jungkook in awe, thinking of how he pulled through today, coming over to make sure that he got to spend it with his son, taking care of everything like the food and cleaning up because you were too busy and too tired to do so, even if you know he’s had a tiring week too. 

You never doubted his desire to get to know Jungwon but his patience and attention to everything have really surprised you. He listens carefully to the little one, asks what he thinks and feels, lets him lead and decide games and shows to watch, and talks to him like an adult. You wonder if he’d asked Taehyung or Namjoon for tips or he’d done some reading. But regardless, you appreciate it so much. You might not have had the start you wanted but it’s definitely going the way you want it to.

And as Jungkook giggles and wipes the cheese off Jungwon’s face, as he fills his glass with water and asks if he wants more, you see the affection on Jungkook’s whole being, you see the care and the warmth. You see the love. 

It’s familiar; it’s similar to how he used to look at you. And it’s this moment that you wish that he learns to look at you that way again. 

##

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

[romiantic]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒕𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒙 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌!𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ࿐ྂ

彡 ❛ 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 ❜

彡 𝗳𝘁. ryota kise

彡 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff with very little angst

彡 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

彡 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: suggestive theme at the end

彡 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: all characters are 18+. also can we talk about how BOMB this song is 🤧 y’all sleepin on this song fr

·˚ ༘ੈ✩‧₊˚ ╰┈➤ ❛❛ 𝙄 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘿𝙊 𝙄𝙏 ❜❜

❝ 𝐘/𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐘𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐔𝐏! You have two minutes till showtime.” Your manager, AKA, older brother, barged and announced to you like he didn’t update you almost five minutes ago.

You did your usual of sucking your teeth and rolling your teeth every time he barged in and interrupted your call, you replied with annoyance in your tone, “AJ I know! Can you wait a minute? Damn, so impatient for absolutely no reason.”

“I’m sorry who’s the one with hundreds of thousands of fans screaming their name and waiting for their ass outside? Me or you? Oh okay. Anyways, end yo little call with yo boyfr-”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You interrupted, becoming irritated with your brother and simply wanted him to shut the fuck up. A great manager and brother, yet way too uptight for his job.

AJ rolled his eyes and muttered something but you flipped him off and pretended not to hear him until he left your dressing room. You gave your attention back to your phone, giving a cheeky smile to the blonde boy on your screen. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a nervous look growing on you but from what you could tell, he was choosing what shirt to wear to his photoshoot. Leaving him to be seen with a no top on and a pair of denim jeans.

Though it was typical to see your best friend’s exposed upper body, it was a sight you never got used to. His well-toned body, results from years of playing basketball in middle and high school, making your face hot, adding on to the nervousness you were already facing from your upcoming performance. Along with the pearly white smile he flashed at you creating a sick feeling in your stomach, something that you made you clench onto it and try to ignore. Now was not the time to be drooling over your best friend, who interrupted your stare with a laugh and said, “Are you gonna keep staring or are you gonna take a picture?”

Of course, he’d ruin it with some cocky line like that, you rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth. “Boy calm down, ain’t nobody wanna was staring.”

“Your nervous face said otherwise.”

“Akekeke, don’t you have a photoshoot to go to?”

Kise replied with the same energy as yours, “And don’t you have a performance to go to?”

You held up a finger to a screen then crossed your arms, “Aht aht, don’t worry about me now. Worry about yo lil pictures with that famous ass Russian model.” You wanted to roll your eyes just thinking about the brought-up woman but it would make it seem like you’re being jealous for no reason.

Kise let out a small laugh, adoring the irritated look that was starting to creep up on your face. “Somebody sounds jealous.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff, “Oh please, like I would be.” You looked at the time on your watch and noticed it was about one minute until your performance. Your eyes widened at the time and hurried, you quickly ended the call with Kise, “Shit, fuck! I gotta go perform but I’ll call you back when I’m done.”

“And I’ll be waiting for you beautiful when you get back.” The golden-eyed boy winked at you yet you cringed and scrunched your face. “You’re so fucking corny Kise.” You hung up the call, grab any other pieces missing from your outfit, and headed out of your dressing room.

You traveled quickly around backstage, passing by many coworkers and background dancers waiting for you, to head into the small tunnel for artists to come out on stage. You stopped at the exit and gulped as you scanned the stage. An outside arena with hundreds of thousands of fans cheering your name, waiting for your appearance.

Usually, you would be at ease with concerts this large but for some reason this time is different. Unknowing the reason nor cause, you started to feel anxious, your hands mildly shaking and your throat going dry.

There was something in the back of your mind attempting to not make you perform, something telling you to not do it, it won’t be good, people will hate you. A voice there to influence thoughts, hoping that you would fall into the trap and just give up on singing. Though of course, you wouldn’t listen to that voice, that voice always lingered around whenever you were brought to perform, no matter where you were.

The only thing to distract you and keep you safe from that tiny voice is someone who you’ve longed to love. One who just settles your nerves, bringing comfort, and removing all anxious thoughts. One who would deem you as one of the greatest artists he’s ever listened to, maybe it’s opinionated but he loves you too much to disagree.

The now dawdling thought of his soft voice whenever he spoke or his flirtatious nature when you two joked around made a familiar feeling grow greater than before. Something replaced the anxiousness that was growing, a feeling that replaced the nervousness and calmed your shaky hands. Something that was the thought of Ryota Kise, he was like the medicine to all the pain you’ve suffered. A remedy to your anxiety, one of the many causes of the cheeky smile social media often sees you with.

Someone who you grew up and spent all your life with, always noticing how protective he was of you or the way he hummed one of your pre-recorded tracks that he was the only one to listen to. Celebrating one of your songs had hit #1 on the Billboard chart and the way he helped out whenever you hit writer’s block.

Every single thing, noticeable or not, made you grown to love the boy, starting from a platonic, playground friendship blooming to many years of trying to figure out if you are romantically in love with him. Growing familiar feelings of butterflies mixed with the thought of just wanting to cup his face and kiss him whenever he was around.

Just the ultimate feeling of wanting to be buried in the blonde boy’s arms and explain the blooming love for him made you want to sing the song you wrote for him. A new single that you never wanted to put out since you wanted only Kise to hear it, including that the song was your way of telling him what you felt all these years.

Though something changed your mind, something in your brain told you to tell everyone around you that you’re singing solo, no backup singers or dancers, only you on that stage. In this performance, you just had to do it yourself, nothing but you, the stage, and the microphone.

Everyone was confused by the last-minute change of plans but went along with it. They rescheduled it to where your first “official” song to start the concert with was right after your solo performance. You gave thanks to your team and took some deep breaths. You made sure your Bluetooth set was on and working properly in your ear, AJ handed you a mic and brushed off any wrinkling from your outfit and any smoothed out your hair. Uptight about his job yet made sure his little sister was looking the greatest for her performances.

You took deep breaths again, shook off any bad nerves, and walked on stage. The already excited crowd enraged and their volume expanded as they saw you stand before them. Everyone waving their signs that said, “I love you y/n!!” or “Y/N is so beautiful!” You waved to the audience and stopped at the middle of the stage, walking closer to the front of the stage as well.

You turned on the mic and tapped it to see if it was working, “Mic check one two, can you guys hear me?” The crowd immediately responded yes, you continued on to talk to them, “Okay good, have been getting technical difficulties with my mic and I really don’t feel like switching mics three times. Anyways, afternoon to all my lovely fans who made it out here or to those that are watching me live. I love you all and thank you for supporting me, I truly am grateful for every single one of y’all.” Everyone screamed out how much they love you and adore you, showing off their merch that they bought and waving the homemade posters.

You smiled at their response and cleared your throat as you introduced the song, “Thank you, I love you too. This first song is one that has been sitting too comfortably in my heart. A piece that came from genuine emotions and feelings I’ve tried to bury yet couldn’t no matter how hard I tried. It’s something that I never planned on dropping but I just felt like the world had to hear what I had to say. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it cause I did when I was writing this song at two in the morning before I snuck into the studio and recorded it. Was it worth it? Definitely. Now I may introduce to you, Not Another Love Song. A contradicting title isn’t it?”

You took a large breath in and out, you took a position as you waited for the beat to drop. As soon as you heard the familiar melody start, you sang, “I don’t wanna mess this up, could it be too much to say I’m in?”

The crowd lowered down and became silent to hear your new single, grasping the beautiful new lyrics you were singing and just vibing along with it.

You yourself were placing emotion as you sang, not noticing how proudly you sang the chorus or how you were smiling at the crowd the entire time. One thing was clouding your mind to even pay attention to those details, the same thing that more than likely pushed you to sing the song.

As you sang, the feelings for your best friend grew stronger, butterflies in your stomach, and the deprivation of his touch grew on you. Not even realizing how much you missed him until you turned initially to smile at AJ and your team yet saw a familiar face appear as well. You questioned it but then turned back to continue singing to the audience, only thinking that mind is playing games with you.

“I'm finna take my time, my mind, my rules. This ain't no crimе makin' love to you, though you ain't say this. But I had a hard time waitin' for you, boy. Like ooh, boy, you, boy. Got me where you want, just gotta say and it's on, it's like, ooh, boy, do you know you got me like where do you go when you're alone?”

As you sang, you noticed the crowd growing silent, their eyes widening, and their jaws dropping. You were utterly confused at was catching their attention, you turned to your team and your brother pointed behind, giving you a goofy smile as well.

You turned around to what was the cause of this silent commotion and right along with everyone else, your jaw drop and your eyes widened. The flirtatious, handsome model that everyone knew of was standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He walked up to you and smiled greatly, closing in the large gap between the both of you.

Seeing him walk closer to you made you want to say forget concert and sing the rest to him. Half of your feeling was already poured out, not even knowing he was listening to all of it. You didn’t think he would even be here since he had a photoshoot, not standing on an outside stage with a bouquet of roses and dressed in casual attire.

He handed you the roses and kissed your forehead, telling you, “Alone with you, away from the world, where else would I be when I’m alone?”

No response came from you, not even a single gasp or a sniffle to signify that you might cry. The way you responded to his presence was something that shocked the arena, everyone watching you on live, your team, and even the two of you yourself. Who would’ve thought you would be bold enough to grab his face and kiss him right then and there? You snaked your arm around his waist and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. He responded back by wrapping his hands around your shoulders and hugging you tightly, holding onto you to make sure you wouldn’t separate from him.

You pulled back from the kiss and smiled, softly combed his blonde hair, and expressed, “I love you, Kise.” Saying his name like it was something you’ve been aching to say, a name that you’ve buried away yet brought out today. A name that sounded so lovely and romantic when you say it.

Kise expressed as well, “I love you too y/n. I’ve always loved you and I will never stop loving you.” He kissed you again, he removed his hand from your shoulders and trailed around to find your hands. He removed your hands from his waist and instead intertwined them with his.

He felt you smile when he held your hand and smiled back. He stated in between kisses, “You know I’m staying on this stage to hear you finish that song right?”

“It’s fine, I need someone to do my next performance on anyways.” He looked at you and you did nothing but wink and mischievously smiled at him. Kise had a small idea of what he could expect but suppressed it to enjoy the soft moment he wanted between the both of you. A moment that he’ll never forget and a concert that will always be remembered for everyone around you.

彡 it’s like 5 am and I’m tired 🦧 the only thing that kept me up was the fact that I don’t have school plus I loveeeeee kise

彡 also the show olivia

彡 I don’t think I ever mentioned to y’all how much I love his ass but now is definitely not the time 😁

彡 I’m convinced if it silent black hair blue eye powerful men weren’t my type, cocky and flirtatious ones would be runner up

彡 anyways hope you guys enjoy + pleaseee listen to the song, I highly recommend plus ella mai is VERY underrated

bye babes, drink your water, stay hydrated, and remember that you are the baddest bitch on the planet 🥰 no matter what ANYONE says

𝐏𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝟏𝟖:𝟑𝟎 💗

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟣 𝗄𝗈𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗈. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

#knb x black reader #knb x black!reader #ryouta kise x black reader #ryouta kise x black!reader #knb fluff #kise fluff #ryouta kise fluff

[artsy0wl]

Maul: A Broken Evil Retrospective

On a Star Wars Amino I’m in, I had made an introspective on why I feel that Maul, while he is a villain is not whole heartedly evil, but broken.  I took from said Amino post, with a few needed edit tweaks.

Chaotic Evil

Of course given the fact he was a Sith and some of the decisions he’s made, I don’t completely want to negate that in this discussion. If we were to use the alignment chart (lawful good, true neutral, chaotic evil, etc), he would probably fit best in Neutral Evil. From my understanding, Maul would fit Neutral Evil as a lot if what he does has to do with benefiting himself. Even if that means using allies (i.e. Ezra initially) and potentially betraying them (i.e. blinding Kanan once the Inquisitors were dealt with). He’ll follow things as he needs and can be calculating when he needs (like his take over of Mandalore). He’s not spontaneous enough or lacks enough restraint to be Chaotic Evil (like the Joker for instance), nor is he as calculating and “lawful” to be Lawful Evil (like say Thrawn and/or Palpatine). With that said, I’d agree that Maul has a darkness/evil in him considering all of the things he’s done. Obviously, he’s not winning any hero points by killing people like Qui Gon and Satine or blinding and attempting to kill Kanan. 

Onto why I feel he’s broken.

Palpatine: Taken From a Young Age and Molded into what Sidious Wanted

Whether it be Talzin offering Maul as a child in Canon or his mother giving Palpatine Maul as a baby in Legends (Darth Plagueis), Maul was caught in a situation that he really didn’t have much control over. Granted, his life may not have been much better on Dathomir, given how the Nightsisters used their male counterparts, but there’s no telling what kind of life he could have had, had he not been handed over to Palpatine. Maul was molded into a weapon as Darth Sidious’ apprentice. And Maul spent most of his younger years being molded into what Sidious wants. Only to be “cast aside” when he is presumed dead. With Sidious being his only form of human contact/interaction, it’s fair to say that Maul feels a level of rejection/abandonment by the only person he had a bond with.

However, rather than having a level of depression because of it, he’s angry about it. For him that seems to be a common response, along with hatred and arrogance (the latter of which was used to explain how he survived the Phantom Menace). Sidious created a weapon out of Maul. And with that, a character with no real coping mechanism or knowing how to let things go.

A lot of, if not all of, Maul’s issues can be linked back to Sidious in some way. Sidious isn’t exactly Mentor of the Year material. Especially with Maul.  Though that could be chopped up to him being a Sith and very manipulative.  He wasn’t the kindest person to the Zabrak pre or post Phantom Menace (both in canon and Legends). Either way, a lot of Maul’s issues are a direct result of Palpatine’s involvement in his life.

If it weren’t for Sidious, Maul would have a normal life (or whatever that would equate to on Dathomir). He would have had his family, would have been more level headed and maybe less cocky, and he wouldn’t have enraged abandonment issues. The amount of grief, trauma, and hatred would be vastly different

Family: He Lost a Brother and a Mother

Let’s be real, thanks to Sidious, Maul’s lost a brother and a mother (two brothers when you count Feral, though he never got to meet him). By the time Savage came around in Clone Wars, we got to see Maul sort of build his character more than say the Phantom Menace (the novels did too, but I can’t say that everyone’s read them). We also get to see Maul exhibit more emotion where, again, the movie lacks as well as the introduction of his family, Mother Talzin, Feral, and Savage. And while Maul may not have been what you’d call an “affectionate” brother, he does care for Savage to the best of his ability.

Their deaths still haunted him years after the events of the Prequel Trilogy and Clone Wars. These deaths stuck with him psychologically to the point that he is still effected by it in Rebels. Which in turn, may have contributed some to him wanting Ezra as an apprentice (among other factors).

Torture After Loss

In Son of Dathomir after Maul tries to get back at Sidious, he is captured after his last battle with Sidious in Clone Wars (season 5). It starts off with Maul being interrogated and tortured by Sidious. He makes it through without faltering and escapes with the help of the Shadow Collective. That being said, we never really get to see where his mindset is. During Son of Dathomir, he gets a lot done, capturing Dooku and Grievous (taunting Sidious and working with Dooku to fight Obi Wan and a few other Jedi before escaping). However, we don’t get to see the mental toll Savage’s death here. Though with everything going on, I guess there wasn’t time.

Now the reason I bring this up, is because part of me felt like I should and the timing. Prior to Son of Dathomir, Maul had recently lost Savage. At the end, he loses his mother. The torture and the scheming in between shows how he didn’t catch a break. And while he was able to stay strong when he had to, they never really explored how the torture effected him, which one would think he would have been.

Obsession, Insanity, Arrogance: Maul’s Faults

I do feel like I address this point. I’ve already kind of touched on his anger and arrogance (synonymously with cockiness). While training Maul, Sidious didn’t consider how arrogant he had let the Zabrak become (according to Darth Plagueis, the novel). This has Maul’s Achilles Heel since the Phantom Menace. While having a healthy dose of pride never hurt anyone, a healthy dose, Maul dose not possess.

His obsession with getting Obi Wan and Sidious is another issue. This really only pops up after his apparent death in Phantom Menace. Because after that point, Maul finds out that he was replaced by Sidious (with Dooku) and that he was bested by a mere Padawan (Obi Wan). I feel like this obsessive tendency is a combination of his feelings of abandonment and having his ego damaged.

And of course, I feel like Maul’s roughly decade long battle with insanity really didn’t help his psyche. While his sanity was restored thanks to Mother Talzin and Savage, I do feel like that’s caused more harm than good. Something like that had to feel draining after getting his sanity restored. He was sitting on a trash planet and on his own. Along with not having anything from the waist down and forced to manage with what he had. Hatred may have helped keep him alive, but his psyche during those ten years didn’t.

He has a lot of internal conflict in an emotional and mental sense. Unfortunately, these negative emotions, obsession and pride especially, cause him more harm than good.

The Ezra Bond: Feeling a Need to Replicate a Connection, Even if He Approaches it Incorrectly

By the time Rebels rolls around, Maul is older and calmer (though still proud). Obviously, he still wants to get back at the Empire for what they (more specifically Sidious) did to him. And at first, Ezra seemed like someone that he could use. This is an element that is prevalent, however, not the only aspect of their relationship.

According to Sam Witwer, Maul’s VA, Maul did have a (platonic) fondness for Ezra. And on top of wanting to make Ezra his apprentice, Maul wanted to emulate a sense of brotherhood between him and Ezra. For example, his phrase in Visions and Voices when Maul says “...We can walk that path together. As friends. As brothers.” How he said it shows how he does miss Savage and wants that family back.

That being said, how he approached this connection could be seen as manipulative and more than likely one sided.  Sure, over the course of Twilight of the Apprentice, Ezra grows on Maul, to the point where Maul wants to make him his apprentice and has an appreciation for Ezra. However, his pride and lack of planning cause a rift between them and there was a lot of mistrust on Ezra’s part, not that one could blame him.

Subsequent episodes show that Maul is hellbent on making Ezra his apprentice through any means possible. 

Maul lost Savage and Talzin, and Ezra was one of the first few people to trust him in years.  I think it’s safe to say that, in Maul’s mind, Ezra gave him a sense of belonging or connection.

Maul’s need for a connection could be interpreted as him trying to find something good in life. However, manipulative tendencies and how he was brought up, hinder him doing that in a healthy and positive way. With Savage, he didn’t need to do anything as they both had a similar plan when they met (Savage being indoctrinated into the ways of the Sith). But subsequent relationships (i.e. Ezra), Maul is at a bit of a disadvantage emotionally and morally. 

Sure, he could relate to Ezra since they both lost people they care for because of the Empire (and by extent Sidious), but manipulation and harming Ezra’s allies hinder a smoother connection. Even if a force bond was eventually made. Ezra, arguably, could have been what he needed for what he wanted and a possible change/redemption/blank slate only for things not to entirely go as plan.

Could Maul Have Something Along the Lines of PTSD?

Now, I could do a mini theory about this as I’ve speculated that with another character before. It’d be an interesting way to look at Maul’s psychology. It’s one last little avenue I thought I’d address before closing this post out. Of course, it’s worth noting that I am not a Psychology major (as interesting as psychology is). I have, however, done some research.

I do believe that Maul, to some degree, may have PTSD. But instead of exhibiting panic/anxiety, depression or easily startled, Maul has more aggressive tendencies and is easy to anger. He still lives with the trauma of the death of his brother (and mother) and flashbacks of that and other events in his life, I’m sure he’d be effected by.

Conclusion

In conclusion, while I certainly think that Maul is no hero, his life experiences certainly effected what kind of person he became. Being raised as a weapon, abandoned, and tortured would bring any normal person way down. And because that was all Maul knew, I don’t think that entirely means he’s evil. Rather, he’s a character who’s been used and abused to the point that he’s mentally and psychologically broken. Unfortunately, that effects his life in ways that make him arrogant, hateful and obsessive. And when he tries to build bonds later in life, he doesn’t know how to in a way that, while laced in trauma, has manipulative and one sided undertones.

That being said, I feel like I should round out this introspective with a little positive. While he’s definitely been through a lot, Maul is pretty resilient all things considered. He’s cheated death and managed to live through a lot of abuse. The fact that he could keep bouncing back shows just hoe resilient and determined the character is.

#Darth Maul #Star Wars #Rebels #Clone Wars #Movies #Retrospective #Theory #Speculation #Discussion #PTSD? #Chaotic Evil #Maul #Star Wars Rebels #Star Wars Clone Wars #Zabrak #Prequel Trilogy

[toonformers]

Design number two, Optimus and Sentinel Prime, complete with height reference chart!

I redesigned Optimus but lets say for lore purposes, the technology for compressing Cybetronians to look humanoid has been developed even more and basically perfected.

But I wanna talk about Senti here, cuz there's some stuff to unravel here lol! So you may or may not remember (for those who don't know) when Naturae's life was destroyed, Sentinel scavenged the planet for survivors. No luck, he only came back with a seed and a note for Optimus from his lover, Shira, saying to take care of it and love it as Oppy loved her.

Sentinel wasn't very...keen to the idea of Optimus having an organic lover. However, he would help him go out with Shira and not be seen. He was willing to keep a secret, with the mentality of "This won't last long." And that mentality stuck with him, even after the news of Shira's death. Ultra Magnus' new law for all Autobots...

[Inside Fortress Maximus]

*Optimus is staring at the seed from Shira, and the note. He'd just compressed his body for the organic appearance and put on a vest with pants*

Sentinel: *slams door open* Optimus!

Optimus, surprised: Sentinel. I see you got the news.

Sentinel, angered: Yeah, I got the news. What have you done to your body? Why is everyone else supposed to do it?

Optimus: Ultra Magnus thought it would be a good way to appease the grief of others over the loss of Naturae and its people.

Sentinel, angered: Don't lie to me. I know you did this to mourn your little romance. What I don't understand is why you're making the entire planet do it!

Optimus: It's not my decision what Ultra Magnus passes as a law and you know it.

Sentinel, angered: But you very clearly influenced him. Don't deny it!

Optimus, annoyed: Fine, I won't. Happy?

Sentinel, angered: You still haven't answered why you want everyone to do this.

Optimus: ...The Naturians...they saw the world differently compared to us. Down to creation. They don't see machines or technology. They don't see sparks of energy or metal. They see life. What life is. What it can be. How it all connected. I want our culture to have that.

Sentinel, annoyed: Optimus, we are machines. We don't have reproduction or flesh or a fragile nature. We're beings who are forged. Built to last eons without a scratch. What differences us from any other machines is our sparks. That's what connects us. That's what makes us Cybertronians. The ability to have an AI so complex it's basically a soul. I for one and happy with that.

Optimus: Well, I'm not. I don't like this idea of "we're machines so we're better than everyone". Because we're not better. We have so much to learn. You especially.

Sentinel: *takes the seed away from Optimus*

Optimus: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

Sentinel: This is the problem. You spent way too much time around those organics. I should've separated you two as soon as I suspected your little fling.

Optimus, furious: It's not a fling, Sentinel! She was the one! Shira was the one I wanted to spend my life with! I loved her!

Sentinel, angered: You're judgment has been blinded! You didn't love her!

Optimus, furious: Oh, what do you know about love?! How could you know how it feels to have finally found the being you're going to spend the rest of you're life with, only for them to DIE and you living with the guilt FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE?! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW HOW THAT FEELS?!

Sentinel: *stares in shock and slowly gives the seed back*

Optimus: Thank you. Now please leav...Sentinel?

Sentinel, whispering: *approaches Optimus* How that feels? You mean how it feels to fall in love in the Autobot Academy? How you planned to confess your feelings after completing a mission that you were sure you were gonna succeed. Primus, with your baby brother and friend by your side, it's a guaranteed success. Then...she dies. Because the organics who lived in the planet you visited were hostile and numerous. You blame your brother for not letting you go back for her but deep down, you know. And you have to live with the fact it's all my.... *voice cracks* fault.

Optimus: Sentinel?

*Sentinel walks away silently*

[Hours later, with Ultra Magnus]

Optimus: ...and I haven't seen him after that. I thought maybe he'd gone to see you.

UM: No, I haven't seen him. It's strange. Sentinel is not usually the emotional type. I wonder where he could have gone.

Guard: *bursts through the door* Commander! An emergency! In the medbay! It's Sentinel Prime!

[At the medbay]

UM: Perceptor. What happened?

Perceptor: Sentinel Prime had locked himself in the room and repeatedly used the appearance compressor. I estimate he went in 6 times before collapsing and loosing consciousness.

UM: Primus.

Optimus, worried: Why would he do that?? Where is he?

Perceptor: He's undergoing some repairs. Unfortunately there have been some complications. Normally the compressor can be used once, twice for aesthetic purposes. More than that can damage the exoskeleton. Sentinel having gone in 6 times has caused himself severe internal injuries. Among them...his T-cog.

UM, worried: What's wrong with it?

Perceptor: It's been crushed to a scrap. And as you know, T-cogs are irreplaceable, due to its technology being mostly unknown to science. We've not yet mastered how to build replacement cogs. Unfortunately...Sentinel Prime's transformation ability...has been terminated permanently.

Optimus, shocked: No. Magnus!

UM, sad: Sentinel...

Perceptor: It seems he wanted to fully commit to the organic lifestyle. He didn't explain why. He only said "He needs this."

Optimus: I need to see him.

UM: Take us to him.

Perceptor: Very well.

[Sentinel's med room]

*Ultra Magnus and Optimus enter to see a thin Sentinel, trying on clothing. He turns and stares at his brothers*

Optimus: Sentinel! *hugs Sentinel, Ultra Magnus joins*

Sentinel: Heh. Didn't think you'd want to see me.

UM: Are you joking, you malfunction? What have you done?? Do you realize what this has done to you??

Sentinel: I know.

Optimus: Sentinel, why did you do this? You could've gone offline! Now your T-cog is gone! You'll never transform again! Why?? Why do this?

Sentinel: ...remember what I said earlier? About...the thing with...

Optimus: Yeah?

Sentinel: After that happened, I continued my studies like normally. And it's one of my biggest regrets, because I didn't take the time to mourn Elita One. I never fully recovered from the pain. Now you're going through the same thing I did. And instead of helping you during this time, I was mocking you. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. And...to help you get through this, I decided to follow Ultra Magnus' rule. While taking it to a much...further extent.

Optimus, surprise: Sentinel....

Sentinel: Let's make this clear. I....dislike organics. A lot. But if you think this is what Cybertron needs to progress and what you need to feel better, I'll do it.

Optimus: Senti...come here, you idiot! *hugs* Thank you. You look great.

Sentinel: I know. *smirks*

#transformers animated #transformers #tfa sentinel prime #sentinel prime #tfa optimus prime #tfa ultra magnus #tfa perceptor

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (11/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10]

Like every autumn in Costial, rain showers overstayed their welcome. Street gutters overflowed and children laughed as they jumped in the growing puddles. With the rain came the storms and lightning; loud cracks of thunder that streaked the moody sky.

Born and raised in California, Lexa couldn’t remember a time her bones had felt this cold. Couldn’t remember it because it had never happened. And she loved Costial - loved every nook and cranny - but she did not love the cold. The umbrella Clarke had lent her had bent in the mocking wind, her scarves were perpetually waterlogged, and her collars drooped sadly. If not currently living through it, Lexa would not believe this capricious weather if she heard about it on the news. It was ridiculous. Borderline maddening.

And yet.

Lexa had never loved a season more.

“Do you know that Wells could walk in any second?”

Lexa nodded against neck and shoulder, her mouth too busy charting a path toward Clarke’s jaw. She had somehow convinced Clarke to show her the cramped room at the back of the café; a perfectly innocent request that, once the door had shut, had ended up with Clarke perched on the desk with Lexa standing between her thighs. And what a fine place to be. Even if Clarke was oddly stiff against her.

“I can go…” Lexa offered, but Clarke dug her fingers in her back and shook her head.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Lexa smiled, her fingers wandering beneath the hem of Clarke’s sweater.

“Ah! Cold.”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa said as she pulled away.

Clarke grabbed her hands. “No, no, it was good.”

Lexa couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. “This is ridiculous.”

“Feeling me up is ridiculous?”

“No!” Lexa replied, eyes widening. “But my feet are still squeaking in my shoes, my fingers are icicles, and I know you think my lips are freezing because you flinch when I kiss you.”

“I do not flinch,” Clarke denied as she hooked her arms around Lexa’s neck. “I like your kisses. I like them so much I dragged you in here. I just didn’t realize I was dating a refrigerator.”

Lexa did not look amused. “Is it my fault this city turned into the North Pole overnight?”

Clarke grinned. “Oh baby, wait until we get to winter.”

Lexa softened at both the pet name and the implication there would still be a ‘we’ in winter. She’d hoped for it, of course, but they were still taking each day as it came and had yet to define what 'we’ even meant. There was no rush, however. They both knew where the other stood.

“You never called me that before.”

“Well, there was a counter and a tip jar between us before.”

Of course there had been much more than that between them. It was hard to believe Lexa now stood flush against Clarke with their mouths kiss-stained and their hands so eager to touch - even if the cold didn’t help matters. Lexa was still working on her in-depth report on the visions, but in recent nights Clarke had lied awake wondering about the meaning behind them too.

Clearly she had been nudged toward Lexa, and it had certainly precipitated things between them, but would she never have entertained the thought without it? Would she really still be wrapped up in her tepid routine if she hadn’t heard Lexa whispering her name while kissing a path down her body? A part of her wanted to believe she would have had the impulse to speak to Lexa regardless of the vision. Maybe it would’ve made things easier between them; and maybe it would’ve made them harder.

“I should probably go thaw somewhere,” Lexa said with a sigh.

Clarke shook her head. “You need a source of warmth. Why don’t you just have at it?”

Lexa laughed, her eyes crinkling with joy.

“I’m very serious,“ Clarke said.

“I know. It’s why I’m so happy.”

Clarke sat back, casually leaning against the wall the desk was pushed against. “Good. I intend to keep it that way.”

Lexa bit her lip. “Can I pick you up at closing time tomorrow?”

“I wasn’t aware we had plans.”

“I thought it could be a surprise. And I know I promised something upscale on our third date, but I think you’ll really like this place.”

“Third date, huh? I was supposed to assess if you have game by now.”

“And?” Lexa asked.

Clarke was quiet, enjoying watching Lexa stew for just a beat. They were both getting to be experts at this slow, simmering pace.

“You really like me, hm?”

Lexa arched a brow, her hands still dangerously high on Clarke’s thighs. “I’ve never stood in wet socks for anyone else before.”

Clarke laughed. “A yes would suffice, but-“ she sat closer again “-now I’m intrigued. Does this date involve not walking? Because my feet generally do kill me after work.”

Lexa brushed back the strand of hair that had fallen from Clarke’s messy top bun. “That’s fine, I’ll find a pumpkin to turn into a carriage for you.”

“Oh good, there’s still plenty of those at the patch.”

“So it’s a yes?”

Clarke draped her arms over Lexa’s shoulders. “It’s a maybe you can persuade me,” she said, tempting Lexa to make a move with a quick swipe of her tongue against her plump, bottom lip.

Lexa did not disappoint, her hand coming up to cup her cheek before she kissed her. Clarke was keenly aware that each one of Lexa’s kisses lasted longer than the last. Her journalist was hungry for affection, but she was eager to give it too, especially when she was encouraged. Clarke had come to the conclusion after Lexa had spent her time on her neck, adorning it with languid kisses while Clarke had lost herself to the sensation of her mouth against her skin. Yes, Clarke was particularly weak when it came to her neck - not that Lexa had needed the verbal confirmation - and there was more than one tender spot that made her whole body jolt with pleasure. Something about baring herself and being vulnerable. The point being: Lexa was a generous partner.

When she kissed, Lexa was so purposeful that Clarke felt like she was an instrument Lexa had practiced for a decade. She dipped her tongue inside Clarke’s mouth and changed the angle smoothly, leading their little dance with a smile Clarke felt against her own. Hands moved amorously up and down Clarke’s thighs; up and down Lexa’s waist and ass.

Clarke hadn’t been kidding when she’d said Lexa made her feel like a teenager. She hadn’t felt this bubbling giddiness in years, not since first everythings in high school at least, but she was glad for her years of experience when it came to keeping up with Lexa. She would’ve never understood the girl in her arms years ago. She did now - vision or no vision - and it gave her a thrill.

Sometimes Clarke wondered if Lexa was determined to compete with herself. To be better than what Clarke had seen - almost like she was jealous of the woman she’d become. And if she was like this when merely kissing, Clarke had already fantasized that she would be like this in bed, too. Clarke so far had kept the details of her vision to herself, but not out of coyness. How could she explain that she would choose kissing Lexa fully clothed in a cramped space over a thousand more visions? That it was actually feeling Lexa against her; their honesty and vulnerability that had fulfilled the ache she’d felt for years? It was too soon for words like that.

But she could show her. With her entire body tingling, Clarke could do nothing but chase that high. She deepened the kiss, this time the one pushing rather than pulling, the one brushing her nose over Lexa’s. Suddenly it felt like heat had risen in the room and her clothes felt too heavy. She couldn’t remember ever kissing like this before - like she could do it for hours and not tire. But something quickly changed when - unconsciously, she’d swear it later - she spread her thighs wider to wrap herself around Lexa. With her hands on her ass, she pulled Lexa closer, tighter, and when her breasts pressed firmly against Lexa’s, it was the start of something else entirely.

They stayed entwined like this for far longer than was safe in the back of the café. The door didn’t even lock, yet all Clarke could think was pulling Lexa until she was flush atop her on the damn desk. It was Lexa who moaned in her mouth, a sound so deep and sensual it had Clarke’s heart pound in her ears. But Clarke wasn’t prepared for Lexa suddenly grinding against her in a moment of desperation, and if they’d been naked she knew very well Lexa would be inside her by now.

At the mere thought, the jolt of lust through Clarke’s body was so strong she pushed Lexa away. Lexa, slightly dizzy from their kiss, staggered back.

“Um…”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” Clarke exclaimed with wide eyes as she sat up. “I - I don’t know why I did that.”

Lexa licked her bottom lip and looked at Clarke, taking in the way she breathed and how she tried to very unsubtly rub her thighs together. She swallowed thickly.

“Are you sure you don’t know?”

Clarke jumped off the desk. "That was- I should uh- get back to work,“ she said, avoiding her eyes.

Lexa stepped aside, waiting for Clarke to follow through. When Clarke finally looked at her, she closed the space between them with a smirk and guided her against the wall. Clarke drew in a sharp breath, her legs so weak she would have slid down if it weren’t for Lexa’s hand on her waist.

"You still didn’t say yes to our date…” Lexa pointed out.

Clarke cleared her throat. “Maybe you didn’t make a compelling enough argument.”

Lexa looked between them and smiled. “This is familiar.”

“The rooftop?” Clarke asked, glancing between Lexa’s eyes and her lips. She could barely think, let alone follow Lexa’s train of thought. God, how was she supposed to go back to work like this?

“The hotel,” Lexa replied before kissing her jaw and then her neck again. “Only, I couldn’t do this back then. Couldn’t have you like this.”

Clarke closed her eyes, each word pushing her dangerously close to begging for release. She knew she was wet; knew today would be more difficult than the other days. It was almost unfair, but a part of her liked the challenge. There was a thrill to it; to testing their willpower.

“I wanted to kiss you,” Lexa admitted, just as affected by their previous kiss. She was breathing hard too; her kisses more like nuzzling now. “I always want to kiss you.”

“We were both drunk. It would’ve been a mess.”

“What if you’d said yes?” Lexa whispered. “What if you’d come with me to the theater that night?”

Here in their little bubble, it was so easy to imagine a different world. A world where Clarke hadn’t said yes to Niylah and a world where Lexa had never been hurt in the past.

“We would have laughed like we did.”

Lexa smiled. “Yes. Then I would’ve asked you to dance.”

“I would’ve watched you play poker and been wildly impressed.”

“Oh?”

Clarke tugged at Lexa’s belt loops to bring her closer. “What can I say? Cards in the right hands get me going. I would’ve asked if we could comp a room in this ridiculously overpriced hotel.”

“We’d get the view on the mountains.” Lexa sighed, as if this fantasy seemed so much further now. “I’d try to give you the best night of your life.”

It was nice to imagine it all, but Clarke realized she didn’t regret it. They’d gone on their own little path. She kissed Lexa sweetly, but not without intent. It was much softer than their last, both of them aware the real world awaited.

"I like this better. I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Lexa looked at her like she hung the moon in the sky. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” And then, because Lexa was still waiting, Clarke smiled again: “Take me on a date, baby.”

-

[part twelve]

#clexa #clarke x lexa #f: a bit of clarity #w #we're getting there!

[yikesharringrove]

oh god okay feel free to ignore this if you want, idk? but um ive been really struggling with eating lately (like i just kinda panicked about the thought of eating?) and you're really good at writing all this kind of stuff so maybe billy struggling with eating after starcourt (for medical and mental reasons) and steve helping but still bring gentle and encouraging (totally okay if this is a sensitive for you or if you don't want to write it 💕)

This is pretty heavy.

Under the cut for medical stuff, disordered eating, talks of throw up (nothing graphic), me projecting.

The first bit under the cut is my medical story, so skip that if you would like.

Read on Ao3

-

So, oof. A little background. I spent three years misdiagnosed when I was young. I was so sick and in so much pain (one of my organs had literally died) that I couldn’t eat. If I did, I was in such severe pain I would throw up. I was 5 feet tall and weighed 62 pounds. If I had lost 2 pounds, I would’ve had an intestinal feeding tube. The doctors thought I just had an eating disorder from doing ballet. They would look at my chart, see another chronic illness I have, and blame my pain on that. They found what was wrong BY ACCIDENT and fixed it within a few hours in one (1) surgery.

So this is based largely on that.

-

He pushed the mashed potatoes around the plate.

“I thought hospital food was supposed to be like, bad. This is pretty alright.” Steve had wolfed down the plate he had gotten himself, not paying much attention to how the plate he had brought Billy was still full.

“Yeah. It’s okay.” He had taken one bite.

He felt fucking sick.

The thought of food, of something in his sore stomach, made him want to hurl.

“You’re not eating?” Steve’s eyebrows were scrunched up, concerned.

“Don’t feel too good.”

“Would something sound better? I could get you whatever you wanted.”

“Um, just like a ginger ale or something. Then I’ll try eating again.” That was his go-to. Ginger ale or Sprite, the carbonation helped his stomach enough that he could force some food down for a while.

Steve got him a few cans from the vending machine.

He ended up taking three bites of potato.

-

Steve made dinner when he finally got to come home.

They had decided he would move in with Steve, “live” in the bedroom across the hall, but they both knew he would be spending the most time in Steve’s room.

He had just made buttered noddles, nothing that would be hard on Billy’s weak stomach, but he had made the noodles from scratch.

And Billy was just staring at them.

“You feeling okay?”

“Just, uh, you know. Stomach’s kinda off.” Steve got him a can of ginger ale from the fridge, slid it to him with a bright smile.

The gesture was sweet, but Billy just didn’t want to risk it.

Every night he spent heaving into the toilet, it made his muscles seize and hurt. It made his throat burn for hours, made him feel like he was wasting away to nothing.

-

He always used the same hole on his belts.

He knew it was the right one from the way the leather was stretched a bit, the buckle leaving indents on it.

But that was too big now.

Did nothing to hold up his pants.

His pants that used to fit.

He tightened his belt.

Two notches. He was two notches thinner.

-

Billy could hear the blender when he woke up.

He was curious as to what Steve was doing, what the fuck he was blending up.

He came downstairs, found Steve with grocery bags all around the kitchen.

“Hey! I’ve been doing some research.” He poured the thick smoothie into a blender. “I think this might be easier for you to eat and keep down. There’s protein powder and some ginger, that should help keep your stomach calm, and spinach and some fruit and stuff.” Steve was fidgeting with his hands.

“Thank you.” Billy sat down with it.

Steve let him take his time, let him drink it in tiny sips.

He was about halfway through when he threw it all up.

-

Billy hadn’t eaten in two days.

But he also hadn’t thrown up in just as long.

Steve poked a plate of plain toast towards him.

Billy stared at it.

Steve sighed.

“Will you just, take one bite? For me?”

He took the smallest bite he possibly could.

Steve let him wait ten minutes before he pushed the toast back towards him.

They continued that until Billy finished the toast, waiting a while between each bite in order to make sure it wasn’t on it’s way back up.

He kept it down almost the whole night, until the pain in his stomach flared again and he was heaving into the large mixing bowl Steve kept next to the bed.

-

Billy was laying on the bed, curled into himself, clutching his stomach.

Steve had been behind him almost all day, rubbing his back, talking in a low soothing voice.

He left when there was a pounding on the door. He left the door open, Billy could hear Max’s voice.

“Jesus, Max. You’re a mess.”

“It’s, it’s raining. And I fell.”

“Why were you skateboarding in the rain?”

“I um, I remembered, whenever Billy felt sick, he liked eating lime popcicles, and I went to Melvald’s, and I got some.”

She sounded hysterical.

“Alright, thank you, Max. Thank you. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He heard them coming up the stairs, going into the bathroom on the landing he kept the first aid kit in.

They were in there for a while before Steve came in, talking in that soft voice he always uses.

“Billy, Max is here.”

It felt like a feat for him to roll over.

Her knees were bandaged up, and her face was splotchy.

“Hey, Shitbird.”

“You look like shit.” He huffed a laugh.”

“Feel like it, too.” Her lip trembled. He didn’t want that. “Hey, thanks for the popcicles. Can I get one? Lime, right?”

“Yeah. Lime.” Steve helped him sit up, gave him one of the popcicles.

It tasted good, and the cold was nice on his throat.

And he even kept the whole thing down.

-

Steve was standing next to Billy as they waited for the doctor.

He had lost nearly thirty pounds since he’d been home. His muscle was nearly entirely gone.

“Steve, just, play it cool.”

“I will not.” He had his pissed off mom face on, and Billy knew he had no qualms about yelling at a doctor.

“Steve, this is just, my life now.”

“No. I refuse to accept that.”

“You yell at Owens every time we’ve come in for the past four months, Steve.”

“And I’m gonna keep yelling until shit gets fixed.”

There was a rap on the door before Dr. Owens let himself in.

“You need to help him.” Billy huffed as Steve started in immediately.

“Um, good morning to you both.” Dr. Owens looked between the two of them.

“Billy can’t eat without throwing up. Look at him. He’s fucking wasting away.”

“Steve-”

“No. I can’t take it anymore. There is something fucking wrong. It is your job to fix it.”

Owens’ eyes were wide, Steve was on a roll.

“Every day, every day he can’t eat anything. He won’t because he’s in pain, and he’d rather not eat than throw everything up. And you need to help him.”

Owens was quiet.

“Let’s run some tests.”

-

Billy was in imaging within a few minutes. He had an x-ray done of his abdomen, and Owens ordered several blood tests.

They were in another room, Billy was having an ultrasound done of his entire stomach.

The tech was looking at his intestines, finding everything normal.

“Look, you’re already doing all this, can’t you just kinda, poke around?”

“I’m not sure-”

“Just kinda,” Steve made a vague wiggling gesture around Billy’s stomach.

She gave him a look.

But she sighed, moving the wand up his body.

“Huh?”

“Wait, what’s huh?”

“Um, excuse me.” She left in a hurry.

“Wait, you think they found something?” Billy’s eyes were side.

“If they did, and I was right, you’re never gonna hear the end of it.” Billy rolled his eyes.

The tech returned with an older woman, pointing at the screen and discussing in low voices.

And then the doctor was leaving again, and the tech was wiping his stomach.

“So, we’re going to prep an operation room. We’re going to have you in there as soon as we can.”

“Wait, what?”

“His gallbladder is infected.” Steve was fucking grinning when he turned back to Billy.

“So, I was right?”

“Steve, read the room. Surgery.”

“Oh, fuck.”

-

Steve was biting his nails.

The chairs in the waiting room were stiff and uncomfortable.

They were given the run down. Billy’s gallbladder had become infected. Probably due to the traumatic situation of his injuries and the many surgeries it took to put him back together.

It was almost completely dead inside his body, causing severe pain and all the vomiting. The doctor had explained that his rapid weight loss had probably only hurt it more.

They said it would take about two hours to remove.

Steve had been staring at the large clock as the two hours clicked by.

It was creeping up on two and a half, and he was getting fucking antsy.

He scrambled to his feet when a nurse called him back.

“You family?”

“Yeah, I’m his brother.” It was easier to lie. He needed to see him.

“He should be waking up very soon. It’s easier if there’s family. His surgery went well, the surgeons were able to remove his gallbladder with no other complications. He may be in pain and delirious when he wakes up, put that will pass, and we can give him more medicine if he needs.” They had stopped in front of a nondescript door.

Steve let himself in, taking the seat closest to Billy’s bed, taking his hand. His eyes were already blinking slowly. He smiled softly when he saw Steve.

“Pretty,” his voice was soft.

“Hey, Baby. I’m right here for you.”

“Thanks for, thanks for fightin’.” Steve smiled back at him, running a hand through his hair.

“Of course, Bill. I’ll always fight for you.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Billy smiled again. “You feelin’ okay? Need more meds?”

“Nah. Feelin’ good. Feelin’ high.”

“Yeah, they gave you the good drugs.”

“Good drugs.” He laid back in the pillow, his eyelids looking heavy.

“Go to sleep if you’re tired, Bill.”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna see you.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Steve kissed his hand.

#i was literally so skinny the doctor found out i had slight scoliosis just by me like standing there #yikes writes #tw disordered eating #tw eating #tw eating disorder #tw medical anorexia #tw throw up #tw vomit #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

[mca-attack21]

Mystery Bullet Part 3

This is the third and final part to this series, thanks for joining me on the ride! Part 1: Here  Part 2: Here

The phone rung a couple of times before Sherlock answered. “Awh John, you’re missing the fun.”

“She’s okay, just had a bad reaction to the antigens in the blood they gave her during surgery.”

“Did they give her the wrong blood?”

“They claim they didn’t, but that is the only thing that makes sense.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant! The bullets weren’t made of ice, they were made of blood. That explains everything.”

“I’m not sure I follow,”

“Think about it the bullet disappeared. She had a bad reaction to antigens. Ice wasn’t dense enough, but the blood would be perfect. Someone used human blood to create a projectile that when froze with liquid nitrogen and shot by pressurized air would resemble a bullet. It wouldn’t leave an exit wound and would dissolve. It also explains why she said the wound site was cold.” Sherlock explained.

“She’s awake now, you should come and see her. She’s asked about you,” John replied.

“I’m glad she is okay, I will come to visit when I have solved the case” Sherlock replied.

“Sherlock, she is still in critical condition, you do understand that right?”

“The auction is tomorrow, we are running out of time,” Sherlock answered before hanging up.

John wanted to call him back, but he knew that it was no use. He instead went into your room and sent Molly home for the night. When you woke up he explained what had happened and Sherlock’s blood bullet theory.

“Have you found the paintings yet?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The real paintings are still in the Museum somewhere. There is too much traffic, extra security, and outside security cameras for them to have been removed. None of the other security cameras were tampered with and no other guards were affected. It had to be an inside job because someone walked in and out of that well-lit room without drawing suspicion and left the same way. They had to be in there well before they actually shot the security guard. Between that and the looping footage, I would assume that the guard was in on the heist and then was double-crossed. Regardless, there is no possible way that the art was removed it is somewhere in that room. I called the art restorator that you met, he said that he would meet with me to check over the paintings. He wanted me to come in that night, but I told him it would have to wait. Oh my god, it was him!” you realized.

“How so?” John asked.

“He knew that I was on to him and he knew you and Sherlock wouldn’t be home. He had access to the facility and no one would question where he was going. He has worked at the gallery for a while and would have had plenty of time to plan everything out.” you explained.

John was laughing and pulling out his phone.

“What?” you asked.

“You are insane, that is what. I need to get normal friends,” he answered. 

“Is everything okay?” Sherlock answered.

“Yes, but you need to go to the museum, I’ll meet you there.”

 “Why?”

“Because Y/n solved the case and we need to go pick up the paintings and culprit. I’ll explain when we get there. Call Mycroft.” he said and hung up.

“Okay now, you are going to lay here and rest. No exceptions. Sherlock and I will come by when it’s over and we will see what we have to do to get you out of here. Is there anyone you’d like me to call?” he asked.

“Nope, I think I’ll take a nap. Be careful,” you answered.

Sherlock and John went to the museum. It didn’t take them long to discover where the real paintings were being hidden. They then went to Dr. Argonza’s office, to no one’s surprise he wasn’t there. They did find a cryogenic dewar which could have easily been used to store the blood bullets. There was an airbrush and pipe that Sherlock was sure could provide enough velocity to cause the injuries. The entire rig would easily fit under a coat and be hidden. Sherlock filled his brother in and together they came up with a plan to switch the duplicates back with the originals and wait for Dr. Argonza at the auction where they would pick him up.

Convinced that not even Mycroft’s men could screw this up, John and Sherlock prepared to leave. John had them stop by the flat to pick you up some spare clothes for your return trip. He was surprised to see that Sherlock had cleaned up the blood and everything from his experiments earlier that day. He was glad that this was almost over and that things would soon be back to normal. 

When they arrived at the hospital they were told visitation hours were over and made some type of excuse using their “badges” to get passed the nurse. John led the way to your room and Sherlock followed. They were surprised to hear talking from your room. That surprised turned to concern when they realized that your door was locked.

Meanwhile:

You were tired and understandably so. But how were you supposed to get any sleep when nurses were constantly coming in and poking and prodding you. This nurse was different, you hadn’t seen him yet. He came over and prepared to inject another medication into your IV. 

“I had my last round of medication an hour ago,” you spoke confused.

“This is a post-op Antibiotic, Doctors’ orders,” he said nonchalantly.

“Which one?” you asked painfully forcing yourself to sit up to get a better look. 

“Carbenicillin? That can’t be right. I have a severe reaction to Beta Lactums.” you explained.

“Hmm, it doesn’t say that in your chart,” he replied before injecting it in.

You immediately tore out your IV and tried to hit the Nurse call button, shouting for help. 

“Shut up! Shut up!” he shouted coming over and placing his hand over your nose and mouth forcefully. You tried to fight against him but your body was too weak and the fear was taking over.

“If you would have just stayed out of it, none of this would have happened. I didn’t want to kill you, but you’re too much of a liability now,” he explained.

You were beyond scared now tears running down your cheeks. You fought against it with everything you had but it was too much. The burning in your chest took over and the black circles grew. 

That is when Sherlock and John burst through the door. Sherlock ripped Dr. Argonza off of you and threw him on the ground. You gasped and struggled to breathe. John had him at gunpoint until security was able to collect him. Even then, he waited with him until Mycroft showed up with his men to take him away. Back in your room, the nurses had kicked Sherlock out so they could thoroughly check you over. You were understandably a mess and demanded AMA forms. You gave them no choice and fought through the pain to remove all of the monitors that were hooked up to you. You sat up sheepishly and started putting on the clothes that John had brought. The nurses tried to reason with you, but you weren’t having it. That is when one of them decided to let Sherlock in to see if he could talk any sense into you.

“What is it that you think you are doing?” he asked concerned.

“I’m leaving. Are you going to help me?” you replied clutching your head.

“Y/n, you can’t leave. You need to stay here and let them take care of you, you’re in no condition to go home” he tried and then he saw something that shook him; you started crying. 

“I can’t stay here, please don’t make me stay here” you cried.

He felt like he was entirely unequipped to handle this situation and wished that John was there.

“It’s okay Y/n, everything is going to be okay. Just lay back down.” he tried.

“I want to go home Sherlock, I’d rather die there than stay here,” you sobbed. 

He went over to your side and did something that was very rare for Sherlock, he gave you a hug. 

“I was so scared” you revealed.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s over now,” he soothed. 

“I can’t stay here, Sherlock,” you added.

“I know, we’ll figure it out. Just relax,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,”

“You have nothing to be sorry for Y/n, just lay back down until John returns,” Sherlock instructed taking a seat next to you. It wasn’t long before you fell back asleep. And shortly after that both John and Mycroft walked in.

“What is all this?” John asked referring to you sleeping in your clothes and not being hooked up to the machines.  

“She doesn’t want to stay here. She signed AMA’s and tried to leave.” Sherlock informed.

“Well she doesn’t get a choice, she needs to stay and be looked after,” John replied. 

“You know, I have never seen her cry before today.” Sherlock whispered, “She literally said that she rather die at our flat than to stay here.”

“We can’t take care of her in this condition,” John reminded.

“Mycroft, do you think that I can cash in a favor?” Sherlock asked acknowledging his brothers’ presence for the first time.

“You are running low on those, what do you want this time?” Mycroft returned.

“The VIP suite here until Y/n can safely check out,” Sherlock replied still not taking his eyes off of your sleeping form.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said as he exited the room.

“We almost lost her three times today John,” Sherlock realized.

“She’ll be okay though, and that’s what counts,” John reminded.

The next two days were spent in the VIP suite of the hospital. Sherlock refused to leave your side even though you told him it was okay. The Art Gallery covered the entirety of your medical expenses as compensation for you saving the auction. When you were finally allowed to go home, you were ordered to take it easy for a week. Sherlock refused to take any cases during that time, which was quite out of character. This mystery was one of the few which never made it on the blog, and that was okay.

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock bbc #sherlock benedict cumberbatch #sherlock imagine #sherlock imagines #sherlock series #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes imagines #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes series #john watson #john watson imagine

[dippedanddripped]

Debbie Harry doesn’t believe in harbouring regrets. “I have made many, many errors, but nobody leads a perfect life,” she reflects down the telephone from New York. “So, should I regret anything? No. It is a waste of time. It really is a waste of time.”

Dial back to the turn of the 70s and the life that Harry led before fronting Blondie – prior to her image being burned onto the retina of popular culture – was colourful to say the least. “I was so desperate to live life,” she says of her time spent hanging with the outcasts and artists of downtown New York. “I was jamming in as much experience as I possibly could and I don’t know if I could have done anything differently. I learned a lot.”

The old Bowery music venue CBGBs has long passed into music folklore as the place that called the likes of Television, Patti Smith, and the Ramones their house bands. It was also where punk and new wave progenitors Blondie cut their teeth before they sashayed into the wider world with the protean panache that would make them a household name. Classic singles such as “Heart of Glass”, “Call Me”, “Atomic”, and “Rapture” have been responsible for more worldwide rug-cutting than an industrial carpet tool. To imply that they were merely a solid singles band is to do them a cardinal disservice, however.

And although they’ve always cocked their attention to the things ahead of them, Harry and her Blondie cohorts have spent a lot of time looking back just lately. Harry’s long-awaited autobiography, Face It, hit the shelves last year, and Blondie co-founder and one-time partner Chris Stein published Point of View: Me, New York City, and the Punk Scene, a photography book featuring personal snaps taken during the band’s pomp in the 70s and early 80s. “We can’t keep on touring and doing club dates the way that we used to. It would be physically impossible,” Harry concedes. “Living through this pandemic has certainly made us take a long look at the value of what we’ve got with our body of work.” Asked if it is a process of attempting to frame their legacy, she admits it’s something that they “have to do”.

This deep-dive into their canon has culminated in a mouth-watering archive set, Blondie: Against the Odds 1974-1982, slated for release next year. Coming in four formats, it promises to include extensive liner notes, “track by track” commentary by the entire band, a photographic history plus rare and unreleased bonus material. The group will also go out on the road – coronavirus permitting – for an autumn Against the Odds UK tour with Garbage.

The artist born Angela Trimble was put up for adoption only a few months after she was ushered into the world in the summer of 1945. A loving New Jersey couple took her in, rechristened her Deborah Harry, and raised her as their own. She grew up in a suburb that she “never left”,  was voted best-looking girl in her high school yearbook, and oscillated within a social circle that consisted of “many of the same people” throughout her childhood. “I was somehow shy within that,” she recalls, “(but) somebody once said to me that being shy was an ego trip and a light went on in my head. I thought, ‘Oh, uh-huh, let’s have none of that!’”

Harry travelled by bus as a curious teen to nearby Greenwich Village, imbibing the febrile inner-city atmosphere. In 1965, she graduated from junior college with an associate of arts degree and New York’s allure became too enticing to resist. She decamped to the bright lights of the city and made ends meet with a succession of odd jobs, including secretarial work for the BBC, waiting tables and an infamous nine-month stint as a Playboy Bunny.

The period was a traumatic one, too, with Harry enduring an ex-lover-turned-violent-stalker and a near-miss with serial killer Ted Bundy (although Bundy’s identity is contested by others). In her memoir, she writes candidly of the time she was raped by a man wielding a knife while on her way home from a concert with Stein. Music offered a vessel for her creativity, and she spent time as part of girl group The Stilettoes and folk ensemble Wind in the Willows before her meeting with guitarist Stein which set the foundations for Blondie. Their classic lineup was completed by Gary Valentine (bass), Jimmy Destri (keys), and Clem Burke (drums).

“Somebody once said to me that being shy was an ego trip and a light went on in my head. I thought, ‘Oh, uh-huh, let’s have none of that’” – Debbie Harry

Although they self-identified as punks, the parochial and nihilistic mandate as promulgated by the genre’s militant diehards never fit Blondie comfortably. The group looked outwards from the moment they started, drawing inspiration from their cosmopolitan city. Their sound was a melting pot pulling at the seams of culture’s fabric, and they would weave their own patterns from it.

Harry agrees that their eclecticism was down to good fortune in coming from the “metropolitan area of New York” where they ingested “a lot of musical influences”. Taken as a whole, their catalogue bears this out. Blondie never stood still musically – yet never sounded like anyone else – and they loaded their songs with more hooks than a fisherman’s trawler. 1976’s punchy, eponymous debut married surf-rock textures with 50s girl-group sensibilities, and their palette had expanded exponentially by the time of seminal third album, Parallel Lines (1978). Eat to the Beat and Autoamerican followed, by which point they could boast flirtations with disco, rocksteady, funk, hip hop, and more within their enviable output.

When asked to pick one track that encapsulates the essence of Blondie, Harry opts for their 1981 US number one single “Rapture”. “What happens in ‘Rapture’ is very comprehensive,” she says. “It took a form of music that was, or still is, very modern and can be very political. Rap and hip-hop songs back then didn’t have their own songs. Rappers would just rap on somebody else’s music. (‘Rapture’) was crafted specifically for that rap. Until then that hadn’t been done. It was a breath of fresh air.” It stands as one of the things in her career that she feels “very good about”.

Blessed with the sort of features that could sell sand to the Saharans, Harry’s appearance caused a stir from the band’s earliest days. “That’s part of showbiz,” she says to me, trying to downplay it. “We always had an eye for that, the entire band. We always had an idea of making a look that represented our sensibilities and links to British pop and mod.” Maybe so, but it was Harry alone who was immortalised by Andy Warhol in one of his iconic silkscreen prints, and who posed for era-defining photographers including Robert Mapplethorpe and Anne Leibowitz.

Did the disproportionate attention she attracted ruffle feathers within the Blondie camp at the time? “Yes and no,” Harry remembers. “We were all happy that it was working. I suppose there was a certain amount of competition or jealousy but ultimately, no. I think that’s a better question for Clem or one of the other members in the band. Of course my relationship with Chris was so close that he was very happy about everything.”

The band’s wheels eventually came off after their muddy and unfocused sixth album, The Hunter, dashed against the commercial rocks in 1982. They had to abandon their subsequent tour after Stein became gravely ill with a rare autoimmune disorder, pemphigus vulgaris, that proved extremely difficult to diagnose. Blondie had no option but to bow out of the public eye, and they broke up quietly.

15 years later, with Stein fully recovered, the group reconvened and released a critically acclaimed and commercially successful comeback album, No Exit. They even topped the UK charts with lead single “Maria”, but faced tussles with erstwhile members at the time too. Former bassist and co-writer on “One Way or Another”, Nigel Harrison, and guitarist Frank Infante attempted to sue the rest of the band over their omission from the reformed lineup. And when Blondie were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2006, Infante grabbed the microphone to express his ire publicly.

Fast-forward to 2020 and the settled iteration of the band are working on a new album with John Congleton, who produced 2017’s Pollinator. Does Harry have a formula when it comes to songwriting these days? No, as it happens. “When a phrase or a sentiment makes me respond emotionally or physically, I write it down and I save it,” she explains. “At a certain point, I’ll sort of review things. A lot of times I like to just work with a rhythm track. Just a drumbeat or some kind of drone-y rhythm, a groove. Other times people will give me a rough sketch of some chord changes – an idea that they’ve got. I seem to work in a lot of different ways.”

Thanks to her effortless chic and timeless looks, Harry’s relationship with the fashion industry has been a mutual love-in since forever, and she recently announced a revival of her partnership with ethical fashion designers Vin + Omi – the duo responsible for her profane ‘STOP FUCKING THE PLANET’ cape worn at the Q Awards in 2016 and throughout Blondie’s Pollinator tour. They have teamed up for a new sustainable clothing line entitled HOPE, and her enthusiasm for the project is palpable. “I love Vin + Omi,” she says. “They are so creative and adventurous. They have this desire to prevail and do things that are smart and modern in terms of recycling and making energy count. I think that is brilliant.”

As a fledgling bee-keeper, the plight of the bees is also something close to Harry’s heart. It was one of the reasons why 2017’s Pollinator was, well, named exactly that. “You’re either being stung by a bee or you’re going to eat its honey,” she chuckles softly, marvelling at the absurdity of the contrast. “But bees and water are two issues we cannot escape from. We should be concerned with finding better ways of living, using our resources in the best way possible.”

Help is coming, she hopes, through the election of Joe Biden, who is “firmly attached” to the idea of helping the environmental cause – and she believes his ideas can help the economy, too. “I’ve been saying for quite a long time that solar and wind power are renewable (energies) that can create jobs,” she says. It’s a far cry from her feelings towards outgoing President Trump and his “daily infusion of bullshit” and “thunderstorm of endless diatribes”.

“One of the most exciting things about rock’n’roll was that it was about breaking the rules, and (‘WAP”) is certainly a part of that. It’s titillating and aggressive and it is part of what is exciting about popular music. The nature of what we try to do is to shock and entertain at the same time” – Debbie Harry

What strikes you when you speak to Harry for an extended period is not only her warmth, but her unexpected humility for someone so staggeringly famous. I reference a Bob Dylan BBC interview from the 80s in which he observed with sadness how his fame had the ability to change a room’s energy and how he missed seeing people act naturally around him. She paws the comparison away, saying she’s nowhere near famous “to the degree of Bob Dylan”, whom she calls “such a megastar”. This could sound like false modesty coming second-hand, but in person it feels like a sincere statement, even if it is a little bewildering coming from an international icon. She will concede, however, that she has “definitely noticed and felt something like that” and has often wished she could simply be “a fly on the wall”.

There is also an inquisitiveness that makes the conversation a more two-way affair than your quote-unquote typical ‘interview’. She fires questions back at you, not as a deflection tactic, but to expand and explore a topic further. This happens when conversation turns to Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s ubiquitous “WAP”. A recent interview had her fangirling over the track, but Harry’s feelings no longer appear to be as clear-cut and she wishes to discuss the song further. “I love it and hate it at the same time,” she now shares. “One of the most exciting things about rock’n’roll was that it was about breaking the rules, and (‘WAP’) is certainly a part of that. It’s titillating and aggressive and it is part of what is exciting about popular music. The nature of what we try to do is to shock and entertain at the same time.” She pauses. “I don’t know. Everything is revealed and maybe sexual explicitness has come of age.”

Pushed about what she dislikes about “WAP”, she says she would “hate it” if any young girl or woman was hurt by the song’s message. “I think that, in a way, men have to know that women think like this, and that there is this component,” she says, “but I would hate it to mean that everyone should be treated like this. I don’t think anybody should be hurt by sex”.

Harry has long championed the LGBTQ+ communities. When she refers to her dearly departed friend and Hairspray co-star Divine as a ‘drag queen’ in Face It, she acknowledges the term in some instances is no longer accurate or politically correct. I suggest that it can often seem as though the evolution of our language is speeding up in the digital age – by necessity, of course – and ask her if online culture fills her with concern when it comes to using the right terms. “Yeah, (because) in many cases it can be a slip of the tongue, especially for an old dog like me! Things do move so very, very quickly. It is hard to keep up,” she observes. “Fortunately, I have a lot of godchildren!”

Speaking of younger generations, Harry likes to think she’d have coped with social media if she were coming up today, but is thankful that she had her “dark cocoon” in which to “bloom out of”, a place where she was able to “ripen”. “When you’re under the harsh glare of constantly being analysed, that shapes you whether you want it to or not,” she says. “It’s a germ or a seed that’s planted in your mind. It can take surprising turns and it can affect your growth. For good or for worse, who knows?”

“When you’re under the harsh glare of constantly being analysed, that shapes you whether you want it to or not. It’s a germ or a seed that’s planted in your mind. It can take surprising turns and it can affect your growth” – Debbie Harry

One thing that remains is her fierce level of self-criticism. “I always want to do better,” she declares matter-of-factly. “I’ve always been very critical of everything. I hear things or look at them and say, ‘Oh God, it should have been that (instead).” Maybe this hypercritical inclination is what still drives her forward. “I honestly don’t like resting on my laurels. I like working and I like creating. I always beat myself up about not being more creative or more prolific.”

When looking at the bounty of projects she has lined up, no one in their right mind could put Debbie Harry and laurel-resting in the same sentence. Aside from the new album, archival set and fashion project, the paperback edition of her autobiography will be released with a brand-new epilogue in April of next year. (Just don’t ask her what’s in it – “I don’t remember what I wrote. I’ll have to look it up!” she says with a laugh.)

The signs are that the musician is done looking into the rear-view mirror, though. Time may be passing, the tide may be higher, but Debbie Harry is doing more than merely holding on. Her eyes are locked to the future and she’s positively thriving.

Blondie: Against the Odds 1974-1982 will be released next year; Face It is out now via Harper Collins

#debbie harry #blondie #Vin + Omi #ethical fashion #explicitness #music blog

[infizero-draws]

BLS talk about your backstory hcs id love to hear all of them 🥺

aaaaaaa okay so here are all of the ones i have so far. this got pretty long so it’ll be under the cut:

sonic: two moms: bernie and aleena (from archie and underground respectively) they were the leaders of the first war with eggman (eggman is old dude, he’s definitely been doing this for way longer than sonic’s been alive). sonic spent his childhood years in the rebel’s base, but he didn’t like being cooped up so he would often sneak out. 

eventually one of eggman’s cameras caught him running around super fast (similar to the first ep of underground) and so he wanted to catch him to use his powers and stuff. so he got sent to live with his uncle chuck in knothole in order to hide/be protected. unfortunately this would be the last time he would see his moms, as they would go MIA after a mission to eggman’s base and would be presumed dead. he lived with his uncle until he was 8, when chuck was captured and roboticized :(

he wandered by himself alone for a while before coming across sally and the rest of the satam freedom fighter crew. by this point he was going by his uncle’s nickname for him “sonic” full-time, although he wouldn’t realize why until a bit later. when he was like 11 he and sally dated for like.. a few weeks before they were like uh. this isn’t working. this was also both when they realized they were trans. i have a comic about this which you can find right here!

sonic left knothole to start fresh, eventually coming to south island where sonic 1 takes place, around age 12-13. (eggman realized he was presenting as male now and switched pronouns - he may be evil but he respects his nemesis ok, it’s basic human decency) sonic proved to him that even though his moms may be gone, he was gonna continue their fight and put a stop to his plans!

(also: he later finds out that his moms didn’t die! they didn’t want to put the rebels in danger after their mission and went into hiding. they went to uncle chuck’s place after a while but found no trace of chuck or sonic, and fearing the worst, simply went back to their hiding place and started a life there, adopting two kids (sonia and manic!!) sonic saves their house from being attacked by badniks and then he’s like WAIT- they catch up and he meets his new sibs and it’s great!!!)

(bonus: sonic gives his old dress to amy near the end of the classic days, which is the one she wears from adventure 1 and onward!)

knuckles: (these are based on @bbgatile‘s knuckles headcanons) he had two moms, but then a disease wiped out the entire echidna population, leaving only knuckles, who managed to survive due to not having hatched out of his egg yet. he had never met another mobian or anyone other than the normal animals on angel island prior to meeting sonic and tails.

tails: i dont remember where i read this, but i saw someone come up with the idea that radiation or toxic stuff or whatever from chemical plant zone is what caused his two tails, which i thought was an interesting idea. i dont have any hcs really on what his life was like before meeting sonic, but it’s definitely not like his parents in the archie comics. i also hc he met sonic when he was around 5. yes that would mean a 5 year old was going on all these adventures but listen. this is sonic. why wouldn’t he be doing that kind of stuff at 5

amy: agggh i dont really have any family hcs or whatever, but i hc that amy was a little troublemaker as a kid, leading to her nickname of “rosy the rascal”. i also have no idea about the whole cd nonsense of her being from another dimension or timeline or whatever, but i think that makes her character a lot more interesting, so when i come up with backstory stuff for her, i definitely want to incorporate that!!

shadow: shadow’s backstory is obviously pretty well explained in canon but for additional stuff, see my development chart and ARK fic!

blaze: i have a whole fic of blaze basically just explaining my backstory for her to sonic over on AO3 called “tell me something nice”!!

silver: i definitely am a supporter of the idea that shadow is silver’s father. again, i have a comic (excuse the weird old silver design) sort of explaining this right here!!

rouge: i dont have that much for her either, but i hc that rouge grew up in a very poor household and began stealing just to survive, but she got addicted to the thrill of it. combine that with her love of jewels and all things shiny and you’ve got a masterclass jewel thief on your hands

that’s about it!! sonic is really the only who i’ve planned fully, everyone else is a little more vague. i’d love to hear other people’s hcs too!!! thanks for asking!

#asks #not art

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Non-Sequential [Ch. 14]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 2,600

A/N: Hey. Remember when I said I was on a break. LMFAO. I guess when inspiration hits, it hits. 

Chapter 13

Everything hurt. Her body. Her mind. Her heart.

Even the distant, muddled beeping was giving her a migraine.

Why couldn’t it just end?

Y/N was done fighting. She was in too much pain. She just wanted it all to be over. Surely Steve would forgive her. Surely he’d understand. She wasn’t strong like him. She wished she were, but that wasn’t her reality.

“You coming back to the living, kid?” A voice muttered.

Why did they sound like they were underwater?

Y/N urged her eyes to open and even that hurt. The white room was blinding – even with all the lights dimmed or turned off.

After a minute of wincing and blinking, her eyes finally managed to adjust to the room.

She looked over to see Tony sitting in a chair next to her bed.

“Where – Where am I?” Y/N asked, trying to look around the room for clues. It felt familiar but also new at the same time.

“You’re in the medical wing of the compound,” he answered promptly.

She relaxed at that.

“You showed up in the middle of Heathrow Airport a couple of days ago. Caused quite a scene actually. Soon as I got word, I flew you back here.”

What really happened was Tony had a fit at the Royal London Hospital. They tried to tell him that he couldn’t take Y/N. That an investigation needed to be made for the mysterious, naked girl who showed up out of nowhere, in one of the biggest airports in the world. The words ‘terrorist’ and ‘national security’ had even been thrown around. But Tony wasn’t having it. When he saw how beat up Y/N was… he couldn’t trust just any doctors to help her.

It didn’t help that the Avengers had been disbanded just days before. That his entire life and family had just been broken. He couldn’t lose any more people. So Tony caused a scene and regretted none of it.

Y/N eyed Tony then, finally taking him in. That was when she saw the bruises and cuts on his face. He’d been in a fight, that was obvious.

Her exhausted and recovering mind slowly processed everything.

“Tony,” Y/N said slowly and carefully, “where is Steve?”

Tony covered his mouth and his eyes looked heartbroken as they watched her. But he didn’t say anything

“Tony,” she repeated more firmly. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” he finally answered.

“What’s happened? What did I miss?” Now she had a million questions.

“Battle lines were drawn and sides were chosen…” Tony hesitated. “And Cap…Well, Cap didn’t pick me.”

Y/N was breathing heavily as she realized what he meant.

“The Accords,” she muttered.

“I always knew that war buddy of his meant a lot to him. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he chose him over me.” He shook his head.

“Can’t you find him, Tony?” Her voice shook as tears began to form. “Please, I…I need him. Please, Tony.”

Tony squirmed in his seat, already knowing he couldn’t give her what she wanted, what she needed, what she was begging for.

“He walks into this building and they won’t let him leave.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“He’s a criminal now, Y/N. He refused to sign, broke the law, and then busted our – his friends – out of the most secure prison in the world.”

Tears were sliding down her cheeks now.

“He’s left me. Now he’s left you.” Tony added bitterly.

Y/N wanted to say he was wrong. But Tony’s anguish was taking over her as well.

“Who’s still here?” She whispered.

But really what she was asking was, ‘Who sided with Steve?’

Tony shrugged and crossed his arms, pretending like he didn’t hate the answer to her question.

“Vision. Rhodey.”

Y/N tried not to gape at him. That was it? That’s all that was left of them?

Tony then leaned forward, balancing his forearms on his knees. “Wanna tell me what happened to you, kid? Who did this to you?”

Y/N didn’t like the sudden attention being shifted onto her. She turned away from him and leaned back into her bed, refusing to meet his gaze now.

“You’re not gonna tell me?” Tony challenged.

She didn’t speak.

“Do you want me to list all the injuries on your patient chart? The docs said you’re lucky to be alive. You were a breath away from death when they found you at the airport.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair as he rubbed his face. “I’m not gonna let that go.”

But Y/N couldn’t talk about it. It was all in the past, literally. There was nothing anyone could do to make it better. It happened and there was no justice that could be served. That was the thing about the past, it just kept haunting you and you could never go back to fight it off.

Y/N didn’t want to talk about the torture. She didn’t even want to think about it.

She just wanted it to go away.

“Y/N…” He tried to urge.

“Please, just leave me alone,” she snapped before he could say anything more.

Tony eyed her with concern. But she didn’t see because she refused to look at him. So he did what she asked and he left her alone.

————————

“She is your…?” This time, T’Challa wanted to know her rightful title.

Steve squinted at the question because no word felt right to him. Y/N was more than his girlfriend. Lover felt cheesy. The idea of soulmate felt right, but that word felt hokey and too misused to be correct.

“She’s my…everything.” Steve finally muttered hesitantly.

Steve had left Wakanda to rescue his friends from the Raft. During that time, T’Challa had become king, defended his throne, and drove his country out of a civil war. 

Steve had returned when T’Challa informed him of Bucky’s recovery, all thanks to his little sister Shuri.

Steve had expected it to take months to cure Bucky’s brainwashing. But Shuri managed to do it in a week. “I would’ve fixed your white boy within days if it hadn’t been for Killmonger,” Shuri had told Steve with exasperation.

T’Challa nodded slowly. “I see.”

He watched the captain closely. T’Challa was wise and observant. He could tell how broken Steve was, how hard he was trying to keep his emotions down. 

Knowing that Y/N was hurt was destroying Steve.

“You cannot go to her?” T’Challa asked carefully.

“They’ll get to me before I get to her. What good would I do her in jail?”

T’Challa nodded slowly and then cleared his throat. “So, we bring her here.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “What?”

“We will retrieve her and bring her to Wakanda.”

“Your Highness, you’ve done more than enough for me. I can’t ask that of you.”

“You did not ask, Captain. I am offering.” He gave him a small smirk. “Wakanda has revealed itself to the world because I want to help those who need it.” Then his face dropped slightly. “She will not receive better medical care anywhere else.”

“She’s…enhanced.” He finally confessed.

“How so?”

Steve rubbed his face. “She travels through time. But she can’t control it. She thinks it’s like a disease. It controls her instead of her controlling it.”

T’Challa doesn’t seemed phases by it. “Perhaps we can help her.”

Steve sighed. “You will be breaking into the Avenger’s compound.”

“Or I will be welcomed,” T’Challa offered with the tilt of his head.

But when he watched Steve’s reaction, there wasn’t the level of excitement or relief he was expecting.

“What is it?” He asked.

Steve shook his head. “I can’t stay here with her. My team…they’re being forced on the run because of me. I can’t just abandon them. The world still needs saving. With or without the Avengers, I can’t sit back and watch bad things happen.”

T’Challa understood his reasoning. He reached forward and gripped Steve’s shoulder. “Then Wakanda will watch over her while you do what you must.”

“T’Challa… I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

The king smiled. “Captain Rogers, not ever good deed is a debt that needs to be repaid.”

——————

Y/N had been in a complete haze for over a week now. They put her on strong pain killers. So strong that she was barely coherent. But she didn’t care. She was glad something finally made the pain stop.

Except now she knew something was off. She wasn’t groggy anymore. She was fully alert. It just felt like she’d woken up from a very, very long nap.

But she quickly realized she wasn’t at the compound anymore.

“By now, you’d think your western medicine would’ve figured out a way to make painkillers without all the drowsiness.”

Y/N stared at her wide-eyed. A part of her wanted to panic. She wasn’t in a familiar place anymore. This woman – no – this teenage girl was a stranger.

Y/N’s eyes started looking around the room, trying to find something she could use as a weapon. Instead, she realized she was in a place that felt like it was straight out of a sci-fi movie. And that was saying something with all the time she spent around Tony Stark. The tech looked both foreign and ahead of anything she’d seen at the Avengers’ compound.

“Who the hell are you?” She finally asked in a monotone voice, as her eyes still took in the room.

“Oh! Right!” The girl had stopped tapping away on a holographic screen and practically bounced to Y/N’s bedside.

“I am Shuri. You’re in Wakanda.”

Y/N blinked rapidly. “What? Wa-Wakanda?”

Shuri smirked confidently. “Not what you imagined, right?”

“H-How did I even get here?”

Shuri winced a little at the question. “We may have… Well, we stole you.”

The Wakandan princess then proceeded to explain everything that happened while Y/N had been in the past and recovering. She went into much greater than detail than Tony had, giving a third party perspective instead of being so close to it.

“So…” Y/N began, after remaining quiet and listening for half an hour or so, “Steve had you bring me here. But he’s not actually here.”

She didn’t bother hiding her bitterness or irritation. And despite Shuri not knowing her well, she heard it loud and clear.

The princess dipped her head and held a somber look. “It is very clear that he loves you very much. I know he wishes for nothing more than to be here. But he had to help your friends.”

Y/N clenched her jaw. It was obvious that Shuri’s words did nothing to dissipate her anger.

Shuri decided it was best to change the subject. “Would you mind telling me how you sustained these injuries?”

“Yes, I would mind,” Y/N snapped back.

Shuri seemed to have anticipated such a reaction and just nodded slowly.

“Well, I am fully confident that, with Wakandan medicine, we will have you fully recovered in the next couple of weeks.”

Y/N blinked at her. A couple of weeks? The doctors at the compound were throwing months around when they discussed her long recovery.

“I’ll have someone bring you food soon. You must be starving!” Despite Y/N’s foul mood, Shuri didn’t let it hinder her own optimism and upbeat attitude.

Then Y/N caught a glance of a few guards standing just outside her room.

“Are those for you or for me?” Y/N asked.

“You, of course.” Shuri giggled.

Y/N eyed her. “Am I in some sort of danger here?”

“Of course not. However, my brother promised Captain Rogers that he’d protect you. And my brother is a man of his word.”

—————

The sun was nearing the horizon as Shuri approached the hut.

It was never hard to find Bucky. He didn’t venture very far from him his home. He took care of his farm and his animals, never even considered going into the city or visiting his new friends in the palace. They always had to come to him.

It was clear that Bucky liked the isolation.

No matter how many times Shuri promised she’d completely cured him of his brainwashing, it was evident that Bucky still didn’t quite trust himself.

She knew he sensed her coming. Once an assassin, always an assassin. 

He continued working, pretending he wasn’t aware of a visitor the moment she was 50 yards away - even with her being obscured by a forest of trees and bushes.

Shuri leaned against the fence that kept in all the goats. Bucky was feeding them.

“What brings you all the way out here?” He asked without taking his eyes off his task.

“She’s awake.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to hers. “How is she?”

“Physically? She will make a full recovery.” Then she frowned a bit. “If we left her in America, who knows what they would have butchered.”

Bucky looked at her with sadness. “And beyond physically?”

Shuri played with the chipped wood of the fence. “I do not know. We can help her with that, as well. But she has to want it.”

Bucky nodded slowly and looked around. “Why’d you come all the way down here to tell me? You could’ve easily sent me a message.”

Shuri’s brow furrowed. “I do not know what happened to her. She will not say. According to her chart, she was the same with the medical team at the Avengers’ compound.” Then she sighed. “But I have a feeling you might be able to help her better than any Wakandan medicine or doctor ever could.”

Bucky put his hands on his hips and looked at the ground. “I don’t think I agree with that.”

Shuri wasn’t completely surprised by his indifference. “You knew her once, did you not? Not like Steve, I understand. But you are not a complete stranger to her. I thought, at one point in time, you had even considered her a friend.”

“I’m not that man anymore. That was a different time.”

Shuri became very serious then. “Bucky, do you…” she breathed, “do you know what happened to her?”

He winced. Like him trying to think about it had given him a flash migraine.

“I might,” Bucky admitted. But it was obvious he was very unsure of himself.

“Then why are you so sure that you cannot help her?” Shuri argued.

“Because I haven’t learned how to deal with it either.”

Shuri’s heart broke at how anguished her new friend appeared. She knew not to push it any harder.

“Goodnight, Bucky. I know you enjoy your space out here, but I could always use some company in the lab.”

“Goodnight, Shuri.” He answered back with utter politeness.

As the princess started to make her way back to the palace, Okoye was waiting for her at the top of the hill just beyond Bucky’s hut.

“You sure he is the right choice for helping the girl?” Okoye asked, tone a little cold. Her even gaze stayed on Bucky in the distance. “He is a broken man, as well. He struggles helping himself. What can he do for her?”

Shuri sighed and turned back for one last glance at Bucky.

“It’s not just about what he can do for her. It’s about what they can do for one another.”

Okoye gave a solemn nod. “And the Captain… does he know of this plan?”

“It is his lover and his best friend. I do not see why he would ever disagree with it.”

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

Chapter 15

I feel like ya gotta tell me how ya feel after I just surprised you with this chapter. (Honestly, it probably surprised me just as much lol.)

#non-sequential #non-sequential series #non-sequential chapter 14 #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #marvel reader insert #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #steve rogers series #marvel fanfic #pre-serum!steve rogers #pre-serum!steve rogers x reader #pre-serum steve rogers x reader

[kaylathekittykat225]

Replacement // Roy Harper X Reader

Warning/s: none, I think?

Word Count: 3,247

Another Saturday, another update. This time, another one from my archives, Roy Harper! I don’t know what I will do when I run out of things I can easily post. But that is a problem for later me that I can deal with. Am still in a fluffy mood, because I am currently sick, and I when I am sick, I get clingy and want someone to hug and to hug me and yeah. All I got right now is my blanket, so we will just have to deal.

Here’s my Masterlist.

Enjoy.

—–

"How am I supposed to face him? I've been living his life for eight years now. What if he tries to kill me?" Roy let his mouth run, asking rhetorical question after question while you drove him to the hospital.

"What if Ollie wants him back? What if he wants to go back to Ollie? What if Ollie makes me-"

"Roy," you gently laid your hand on his leg, capturing his attention and his focus went to you. "Why are you so nervous about this? You've spent the last five years trying to find him and now you sound like you're about to meet the president." Your eyes flickered over to him, making sure to pay most of your attention to the road ahead of you.

He sighed and slouched down into his seat, "I just don't know what he'll think of me." His words lost in the wind blowing through the rolled down window, the hospital coming into view.

"If he's even half the Roy he was, in sure he'll get over it." You smiled over at him as you pulled into a parking space, hoping to yourself that this will all work out fine.

The two of you walked into the entrance of the hospital and saw an anxious and pacing Ollie waiting for the two of you. He spotted you two as you entered and briskly made his way over to you. "Roy, Y/N, thank goodness you're here."

"Hey dad." You smiled up at him, pulling him into what felt like a much-needed hug. "It's good to see you."

"I am too, Y/N I just wish it was under different circumstances. Mom says hi." You sighed, happy to smell his cologne again, not having seen him since New Year's.

"Tell her I say hi back." You pulled away from the hug, your dad turning to say hello to Roy. "Is he awake?" You pursed your lips, watching both your father and Roy shuffle from side to side.

"Yeah, he's this way." You two followed your dad down the corridor, Roy's hands were tightly holding onto one another before you slipped your hand between them, taking his clammy hand into yours.

"It's gonna be fine, babe," you whispered quietly before entering the room you assumed to be Roy Harper's...the other one.

Ollie opened the door for the two of you and you all walked into the room. The view out the window gave a perfect overlook of Star City, a view you've seen your entire life, from looking out your bedroom window to running across the roof tops of the City's skyscrapers. 

In the middle of the white hospital room, pulled against one of the stable walls was a bed and the millions of cords leading to a heart monitor, IV lines and a lot more, hooking up to a lot of beeping.

And laying on that bed was none other than an exact copy of the nervous man beside you.

Only he was younger.

And his arm was also missing.

"I told you I'm-Ollie?" His blue eyes widened to the size of saucers, but they weren't the eyes you knew.

They were different than what they use to look like. Colder, more shut off, scared.

"Hey Roy, how are you feeling?" Your father asked as he took one of the seats near the bed.

"I wish everyone would stop asking me that," he grumbled to himself, his thumb twiddling with the air, possibly dancing with an imaginary partner, his eyes darted around the room and never looking directly at his former mentor.

You swallowed the heavy feeling in your throats and turned to look at Roy, your Roy, the one you'd fallen in love with when he tripped over a statue of your grandmother when he tried to ask you out in a date. His eyes were alive and warm, and staring directly at the icy blue ones of the original Roy.

Oi all these Roys are giving you a headache.

Squeezing his hand gently, his attention was drawn to you, returning the pressure into your hand. "Now or never," he mouthed to you before he stepped out from behind your father, just enough to keep you hidden still behind his built figure.

"Oh, you're...you're the one who got me back didn't you?" He avoided the word rescue, still the same Roy you knew, never wanting to admit needing help, his eyes also avoiding his doppelgänger standing in front of him. "Th-thanks I guess."

You sighed from behind your dad's back, much louder than you intended, bringing Roy's eyes to look in your direction, "What, is there another one of me to show me?" Oliver's body shifted in front of you so he can look down at you, looking for an answer from you. 

You nodded your head and stepped out from behind his back, keeping Roy's hand in your own, you sucked your lip in between your teeth as you slowly looked up to see the other Roy staring at you in shock. "Y-Y/N?"

"Hey, Roy." You smiled sadly at him. His eyes absorbed as much of you as he can, running them up and down your body, stopping when he saw you and his clone were clasping hands. He scoffs and turns away, trying to cross his arms for only to be reminded that it was gone. 

"Great, so while I was on ice, you found another Roy Harper, the sidekicks formed their own team, aliens invaded the earth, and Ollie grew that dopey goatee?" You bit back a giggle, instead coming out as a snigger when you looked over to see your father's reaction. 

But hearing the word sidekick plucked an old string for both you and Roy, your Roy. "We try not to call ourselves sidekicks." You shifted your weight around, feeling out of place while your father argued for the dignity of his goatee. 

Grabbing for a familiar looking folder, you pulled up the medical charts to see what the doctors thought of the returned super. You flipped through the pages, easily able to understand everything from your years of practice of being on the medical team in Mount Justice and understood that he really was on ice. He hadn't aged a day since you last saw him, but he legally should be twenty-three by now, everything about him was the same as Roy, how could they be different, they were exact clones. 

"And what happened to my arm?! And now my clone goes and steals Y/N?!" Your breath got caught in your throat, honestly you felt so guilty about this whole situation. Setting the folder back on the table, you turned back to three men, all three were on you, almost expecting you to take over the situation. 

"Roy..." You took a seat in the very uncomfortable chair next to your used to be best friend, his eyes staring into your own, waiting for an answer. "I guess it's time," You wrung your hands together, your breath shaking as you thought how to best explain to him what happened.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

The two of you puzzle pieced everything together, you told him what he missed while he filed in what he last remembered. It broke your heart to see him look so heartbroken to hear eight years had passed since he went missing. 

He listened as everyone told their part of the story, your dad explaining how hard he worked, Roy telling him how he was grown and had no clue that he was a clone, while you watched him intently, being the brunt of the bad news. 

"So, you're saying...that you took my place, you've been living my life for eight years." Roy stared bitterly at the other one, who sheepishly looked down at his shoes. 

"Hey," You weaved your fingers between his, the contact sending a shiver down his spine as he looked between your face and his hand. "Roy worked tirelessly to find you, for the past five years he has been looking for you nonstop. To the point it almost drove him crazy." You muttered, looking at him briefly before looking back at the younger Roy. 

"Huh," Little Roy nodded and turned to look at your dad. "but not you, you gave up on me." 

"Roy," You hissed at him, tightening your grip on his hand, except the wrong Roy went to answer. 

Your Roy stepped forward, placing his hand on my shoulder, looking down at his clone. "Look, I don't want to be the cause of anymore arguments, I understand if neither of you really want to lay eyes on me again." 

You were about to turn back around when the little Roy beat you to the chase, "I don't know, but from what I see, the clone didn't do anything wrong. He didn't ask to be created, plus, he found me, so I can't blame him." Thinking the four of you had finally come to a happy understanding, you loosened your grip on his hand from death grip to comforting presence. 

"But I can blame you!" 

"Roy!" You pulled him back from attacking your dad even if he couldn't do much to him. "Dad, Roy, leave!"

"Y/N, if that really-" 

You stared back a the two of them with a glare that bested Batman's, "Out." The two grown men left, their heads low as they were kicked out by a twenty-two-year old girl. Groaning, you let your body fall onto the chair behind you, your weight pushing the piece of crappy furniture backwards some inches. "They can be so infuriating."

Looking back up at Little Roy, his new and unsaid nickname sticking with him now, you had hoped he would just talk to you, after all, you two were childhood friends. "Why are you here?" His voice was hushed, and his body shrunk as his mind churned and thought of the information he was just presented. 

"Because I wanted to make sure that you three didn't kill each other," You chuckled, hoping to grab some sort of reaction from him, nada. "I wanted to see you, Roy. Is that too hard to believe that someone cares about you?" For the first time since you arrived, a smile graced his lips, his eyes showed how grateful he was towards you. 

"You've changed," Roy couldn't help that his eyes took in your appearance, you were the same as he left years ago, but you looked older, your eyes looked like there was more wisdom behind them. But something caught his eye as you went to cross your arms.

"So, have you, Roy." You could feel his eyes just looking at you, all of you, and his eyes were curious, so many questions behind them. "Ask away my friend." You chuckled as he blushed at you finding him out.

"You can still read me like an open book I see." You nodded, waiting for him to go on. "How did you...what was it like with me gone?"

Biting your lip, you had to think before answering this one. "Honestly Roy, it was like you never left, yes you were missing, but Roy, the other Roy that is, was just like you. We never had a reason to suspect he wasn't you until we found the file on him being a project of Cadmus." 

The ginger nodded his head, he was expecting that answer, but it still hurt to hear it. "I see the ring. You don't have to hide it you know." Now it was your turn to blush, it was only a matter of time before he saw the gold band on your left ring finger. "I had been dreaming of doing that since the day I met you." 

You smiled at the memory, spinning the ring around as you leaned forward, twiddling with it while you thought back to the simpler times. "You mean when you insulted my mom or when I fell into my birthday cake." 

"How about when you gave me a bloody nose." The two of you were happily laughing about the time your parents thought it was a great idea to invite Roy to your birthday party, that day didn't end well, but it did lead to the two of you being fast friends. "It's still crooked from that, I don't think I could ever forgive you."

"Well obviously you did I mean you mar-" You cut yourself short, forgetting for that second that this wasn't your Roy you were talking to, but the other one. The one your Roy is based off. 

"I was going to ask you to go out with me as soon as I got back from that mission, that's why those goons got the jump on me, I was smiling like an idiot just at the thought of asking you and I was distracted. I had it all planned out, I was gonna swoop in and when you got home from school-"

"You were going to give me a teddy bear with a box of chocolates and be all romantic and ask me out." Finishing the story, you grinned at that memory as well. "He did that you know. At least, he tried. He ended up trip over my nana's bust, successfully breaking it." 

Looking up at Roy, he was staring down at the stump where his arm used to be, a frown on his face and his eyes sad and slowly getting glossy. "So, he really was me. An exact duplicate." 

You leaned forward and gently ran your fingers over his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb, "No, you two are very different people, he may have acted like you Roy, but no one can be you Roy Harper. You are the most talented, amazing kid I have ever know, pretty damn hot too." His face got warm under your touch, his eyes finally looking up to meet yours again, the glass getting thicker.

"So why did you marry him?" 

"Roy," you sighed and looked back at the door where you're sure your dad and other Roy were listening intently. "I can't ever say if it would have been you and I if this all never happened. That's in the what if universe, but I do know, that I love my Roy, he may have started out like you, but he is a different person. You will be nothing like him when you are twenty-three. You two may look the same, but I promise you, that there is only one of you, Roy." 

Roy slowly nodded his head, leaning into your touch while your hand still rested on his cheek, letting a few salty tears run down his face before he takes a deep breath and wipes his damp cheeks dry. "I think I better let you get some rest." You whispered quietly as you stood up to let him have his own time, knowing that was a big part of his processing things. 

"Wait," Roy grabbed hold of your hand, stopping you from getting to far. He noted the tips of his fingers were rubbing the smooth gold wedding band, but he ignored that, knowing this was stupid he asked anyway. "Before you go, Y/N, can I...can I...I wanted to..." He was at a loss for words. The woman he had always loved was married to another, to himself. 

"What is it Roy?" You sat back down, not letting go of his hand, letting him have your full attention. 

He gulped, finally having the courage. "Canikissyou?" His words came out a gargled mess, his mouth deciding to break, and his face went red hot, almost as red as his hair. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Working on calming him down, you ran your free hand through his hair, know at least your Roy became like a purring kitten when your fingers met his hair. 

Roy slowed down his breathing and tried one more time to ask, "Can I...kiss you?" He kept his eyes glued to his lap, examining the wrappings on his opposite arm, his fingers still interlaced with yours. 

There was an awkward silence in the air between the two of you, he waited for you to storm out and never look at him again, but he still felt your hand holding onto his. 

"Well how am I supposed to give you a kiss when you won't even look at me." His eyes slowly looked up to yours, a smile on your face as you moved to sit next to him on the bed. 

He leaned in a little closer to you and you leaned in towards him where the two of you met in the middle. You pressed a quick and chaste kiss to his lips, your experience in this field evident as he was totally shocked about what just happened. 

"That's right, I was your first kiss." You chuckled at his bright red cheeks, pressed another kiss to his cheek this time, chuckling at the young blushing fifteen-year-old. "If it makes you feel any better, you were mine too." You stood up as you gave his hand a final squeeze before letting it go, walking out the door.

Before you reached the door, you looked back at the ginger and smiled at him, and he smiled back. "If you need anything, I write my number down for you to use if you need to talk about anything thing. It's on your charts if you ever want it."

"Thank you, Y/N." He smiled at you again, his cheeks still dusted pink as you left the room. 

Outside you met your dad and your Roy waiting for you, "You guys should probably go easy on him if you want him to get accumulated to everything." Ollie nodded his head and turned back to a waiting doctor. 

Roy gently pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head and smothering you in his chest. "He asked me to kiss him." You whispered into his chest, your own actions shocking you as soon as you realized what you just did. Feeling his grip around you tighten, you knew he heard you. "And I did."

You could hear the deep sigh, the breath tickling the top of your head. "I'm not angry, but, why?"

"He's just like you when you came back." You looked up at your husband's face, studying it and seeing how much eight years has done to him, it was shocking to see especially with the younger him being on the other side of a wall. "Lost, confused. I just wanted to give him some comfort."

Roy hummed to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he slowly let you out of his bear hug. "Let's go home," he said as you linked pinkie fingers together, him gently pulling you down the hallway. 

"Home sounds good." You thought of Roy, both of them, they were the same person, but two completely different people. "Roy?" 

"Yeah?" He looked back at you, happily surprised when you met him with a small peck. "Hmm, nice little surprise."

"I love you, Roy Harper." You smiled up at him, something in you happily told you that this was him. 

Yes, that young fifteen-year-old pulled out of time was Roy Harper, there's no denying it.

But the man in front of you, your ginger, arrow shooting husband, he was just as much Roy Harper. But he was different. 

That's because he was your Roy Harper. 

#roy harper #roy #roy harper x reader #roy harper imagine #roy imagine #roy x reader #roy harper one shot #roy harper oneshot #red arrow #red arrow x reader #red arrow imagine #red arrow one shot #red arrow oneshot #yg #yg x reader #yg imagine #young justice x reader #young justice imagine #young justice

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Your racing heart (Julian Mercer x Fem!Reader)

Summary:  after fainting, you’re taken to the hospital and Julian is your doctor.

Author’s Notes: It all started when I saw this post  and my brain went ‘write this right now!’ Also, I thought Julian deserved a little love since he’s such a great character and canon treated him like crap. Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you! Thank you @caryled​ for being beta and all around great friend!

Warnings: fluff! Lots and lots of fluff! 

 You let out a long, annoyed sigh as you watched the big hand of the clock on the wall slowly make its way towards 12. You’ve been in that hospital for two hours and all you wanted was to go home, but your grandma insisted on bringing you there after the little incident this morning.

She said you fainted, but you only remembered feeling dizzy and stumbling on the front steps of her house after a long morning of doing chores under the scalding summer sun. If you did lose consciousness, it wasn’t for more than a few seconds, a minute at most. It wasn’t bad enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, much less getting a specific doctor to come in on his day off just because she didn’t trust anyone else to see you.

You tried to argue, explain that you were fine, that you didn’t need to a doctor, but there was no reasoning with her. No wonder your mother would always say you got your stubborn streak from your father’s side of the family and your grandmother was just proving her point.

After another ten minutes of staring at the wall since you weren’t allowed to use your phone while in the infirmary and your grandmother wasn’t allowed in, the curtain isolating your bed was pulled revealing one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever seen.

He was tall, with strong broad shoulders, but a slim frame. His hair was dark, curled a little by his nape and framed beautifully his kind brown eyes. When he flashed you a smile as he stepped closer to your bed, you felt butterflies in your belly.

“It’s Y/N, right? Cecily’s granddaughter?” he asked, picking up your chart. “I’m Dr. Julian Mercer.”

“Yes, hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air around you.

You shifted on the bed, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, which made you realize you were still wearing the old shorts and oversized t-shirt you had picked for tending to your grandmother garden and lawn. There were dirt and grass stains on your shirt and your hair still sweaty and in a messy ponytail. 

Why did you always have the misfortune of meeting cute guys when you were such a mess?

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He settled the chart on the bed and picked a penlight from his whitecoat. “So, you fainted?” Dr. Mercer asked, flashing the light in your eyes.

“Maybe. I don’t think I actually passed out. I just got really dizzy and fell down.”

“Do you know if you hit your head?” He inquired, pocketing the penlight again.

“I caught myself,” you replied, showing the friction burns on your hands and Dr. Mercer winced in sympathy. “It wasn’t that bad. They didn’t have to call you.”

“I don’t mind,” he reassured you. “Cecily’s one of my favorite patients.”

Dr. Mercer smiled at you as he took your wrist, his hand was a little rough and warm against your skin. His touch careful and gentle and your heart sped up. Held held onto your hand for a moment as he checked your pulse, his smile widening a little.

“Your resting heart rate is a little above average, but nothing to worry,” he commented letting go of your hand to pick up the blood pressure monitor.

All you wanted was for the ground to swallow you whole. Not only did he notice how nervous you were, he also knew why.

You avoided his gaze throughout the rest of the exam, replying to his questions monosyllabically, wishing the entire thing to be over so you could die of embarrassment in the safety of your grandmother’s home.

“Y/N, when was the last time you ate?” Dr. Mercer asked and that caught your attention as you thought about it.

The whole reason for you to come to your grandmother’s house this summer was to finish the first draft of your novel. You’ve been working for a publishing house for the last three years and finally got a chance to publish your own stuff, which had been your dream for so long.

So, you packed a bag and headed to the Hamptons to seek some inspiration and to stay with your grandma while your parents traveled Europe for their thirtieth anniversary.

Once you were there, you decided to help out with a few chores around the house: mowing the lawn, repotting some of her flowers, repainting the railing of the front porch…And maybe you skipped breakfast to get an early start and since you had dinner with your grandmother and she was always in bed by nine, the last meal you had must have been around six or seven last night.

“That long, huh?” he commented when you took a little too long to answer. “Give me a sec.”

Dr. Mercer moved away, only to return a few moments later with a wheelchair. He helped you to get on it and wheeled you through the hallways of the hospital until the two of you reached a vending machine.

“Peach or grape?” he asked, pulling out a couple of bills from his wallet.

“Grape,” you replied a little confused until he handed you a purple juice box.

“My favorite too,” he said with a wink that nearly made your heart stop, before grabbing a juice for himself and a package of saltines.

Then, he wheeled you to the hospital garden, parking your chair by a bench. Dr. Mercer took a seat by your side and opened the crackers, offering it to you.

“Low blood sugar and overheating can cause dizzy spells,” he explained. “So, make sure not to skip any meals from now on, ok? Cecily shouldn’t be worrying too much considering her heart.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied with a sigh, a little ashamed of your behavior.

All of this because you wanted to be done as quickly as possible and return to your book. Not only you gave your grandma quite a scare, you were making Dr. Mercer miss his day off.

“She really shouldn’t have dragged you here for this, Dr. Mercer.”

“Julian,” he corrected with a smile. “Truth is, I was glad for the call. I always feel like I’ve reached a new low whenever I’m watching daytime TV.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his awkward little chuckle. He was handsome and charming. That was an irresistible combination for you.

“That is bad,” you commented. “I’d think a guy like you would have better things to do in his day off.”

“I might’ve been avoiding running into my ex,” he confessed, giving you a sideway glance. “She’s in town with her new husband.”

“Bad breakup?” you asked, sipping your juice. You tried to picture a scenario where anyone would dump a guy like Julian and came up empty.

“No, just…” he sighed and shrugged. “So… Cecily told me you’re a writer?”

“Not officially, but soon. Hopefully,” you replied with a grin. This was the first time anyone called you a writer. In front of you at least. It sounded really good. 

“What’s your book about?” Julian asked, turning to face you, resting his elbow on the back of the bench and watching you with soft smile as you babbled about the general idea for your story.

From there the two of you talked some more about favorite books and movies and bands. Julian surprised you by being a fan of both romantic comedies and punk rock, which was a nice contradiction. And he teased you for loving trashy horror movies. It was light, fun and comfortable and both of you lost track of time, too involved on each other.

It wasn’t until one of the orderlies came around looking for you that you realized you and Julian had spent the last half-hour talking, oblivious of your grandma still waiting and other appointments Julian might have.

“I should probably take you back and discharge you,” he said, standing up and maneuvering your chair towards the door. “I bet you’re getting sick of this hospital.”

“I don’t know,” you said, feeling less nervous around him. “It has its perks.”

You smiled at Julian who smiled back as he wheeled you to your bed in the infirmary. He took out his prescription pad and wrote a quick note before handing it to you.

“That’s to avoid another dizzy spell,” He said as you looked over his vitamin suggestions and instructions to eat every three hours.

“And this is for when you need to relax… if you’re interested.” Julian flashed you quick smile as he handed you the second note.

He picked up your chart again and signed your discharge papers.

“Feel better, Y/N,” he said, before walking away.

It wasn’t until you were in the car with your grandma on your way back home that you looked at the second note Julian gave you and grinned at his phone number.

xxx

#something's gotta give #keanu reeves #fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #julian mercer #julian mercer x reader #keanu reeves x reader #julian mercer x you #keanu reeves x you #julian mercer fic #one-shot #prompt fic

[theparanormalperiodical]

The True Story Behind The Amityville Horror (1979) And The 9 Other Times Paranormal Evidence Was Used In Court

I can hear the birds singing.

I can see a brilliant blue sky as it bathes my small Kentish town in the year’s first rays of light.

And I can feel the first thawe of February.

F*ck off winter, and hello spring!

As I sit on my bed, looking outside my window at the resurrection of the once-green landscape of my hometown, I am reminded of the true meaning of this season: life.

The mating season begins for most small, furry creatures, daffodils stand proudly as the first flower to mark their territory, and, like, there’s something about Jesus but I don’t think that had that much of an impact on the world, did it?

But I’m not the first person who was eager to turn their back on winter - the season of death - and look forward to a brighter year.

I’m sure the Lutz family, having fled their family home in mid-January, were just as ready to quash their terrifying experiences that were only darkened by the brutal winter months.

“Lutz… I know that name.”

Unless you were only until recently within a cult and decided to turn your back on Almighty Zarp Goddess Of Destruction, you’ll probably have heard that surname before. But who were they?

Well, to jog your memory, they were a small All-American family who lived in a small All-American town known as Amityville.

Yeah, there you go, now you know where I’m heading with this.

(Or you read the title of this post.)

Amityville is a town in New York which set the scene for probably the most famous haunting the world has ever witnessed. And with several families undergoing intense happenings - from murders to manic paranormal activity - this house has earned its place in the history books.

Oh, and on the big screen, too; 16 feature films have retold the story, including one film which featured Mr Pool himself, Ryan Reynolds.

So, as your favourite paranormal blogger, I thought I’d devote an article to the insanity that was Amityville, and dissect how real the reality shown in the films was for the 2 families that once lived at 112 Ocean Drive.

And I’m not stopping there.

What made this haunting so iconic was how it planted its paranormal feet into the legal system as a result of the murder case the hauntings are linked to. But the thing is, Amityville is far from alone when it comes to legal courts having to deal with the supernatural.

There are actually 9 other prominent legal cases from which the courts have had to debate and discuss the paranormal.

And I’m gon’ tell you all about ‘em.

*Bangs gavel*

Before We Get Spooky, Let’s Summarise What The Films Had To Say About This Haunting

(And they’ve got a lot to say.)

Like I said, there are 16 films that claim they document the events witnessed by the Lutz family in their short stay. No, really, they were there for less than 28 days.

From 1979 all the way up to 2017, we have a variety of films that explore what went down in that house, and, given they are horror films, we also get a few laughs along the way.

Like the 1992 classic Amityville: It’s About Time, which sounds like it might star Vin Diesel in a Fast and Furious crossover.

Or maybe how in the same year Amityville: Playhouse and Amityville: Death House hit the theatres.

And even the rendition of the Amityville Horror from which the realtor having shown the new occupants around the house died in the driveway when he attempted to leave the property!

So, to cut out that crap, I’ve decided to just recap what occurs in the 3 most popular movies of this franchise:

The Amityville Horror (1979), The Amityville Horror (2005), and Amityville: Awakening (2017).

The Amityville Horror (1979)

Sharing the same title as the book supposedly based on the real events witnessed by the Lutz family, this film was the first to share the story of the DeFeo family and the following inhabitants of the house. . The film starts by showing us the final moments of the DeFeo family, from which some bloke kills all of ‘em. From there we bear witness to a new family moving into the home.

And things get spooky quickly.

A visit from a priest gives us the first signs of the supernatural as he  experiences a variety of attacks from beyond the grave, whether its swarms of flies to a blistered hand when trying to warn Kathy, the mother of the family, about. An angry spirit then tells him to ‘get out’, triggering his complete mental breakdown.

The paranormal forces then encroach on the patriarch of the famalam - George - leaving him to split firewood to keep the constant cold at bay. Unexplained events begin to haunt the entire family:

The young daughter of the family mentions an imaginary friend, and a pig with glowing red eyes is seen by her bedroom window. The doggo then becomes cray-cray about the basement which is later revealed to conceal a small, hidden room that has red walls.

Things then get weirder. George begins to wake up at 3.15am every morning to check on the boathouse, and Kathy has nightmares which reveal details of what down in the first scene of the movie. A quick trip to the archives later, and she deduces that this house is built on a Shinnecock (Native American) burial ground, and that a satan worshipper - John Ketchum - once lived there.

If that wasn’t enough, she discovers the story of the DeFeo family, and notes that Ronald DeFeo - the murderer - looks uncomfortably similar to George.

It all comes to a head when blood oozes down the staircase and Jody (you know, the sweet adorable imaginary friend who is actually a pig) is seen through the window. Oh, and George tries to kill everyone with an axe.

Kathy brings him out of his trance, and they both get the f*ck outta the house.

We are told that they didn’t return for their belongings.

The Amityville Horror (2005)

For this modern retelling of the original film, the scenes are re-arranged, the hauntings are more minimalist, and just a dash of Ryan Reynolds is added.

And is he playing Ryan Reynolds? ‘Course.

But the major difference between the OG and this icon is that the basis for the hauntings is explored in a much more artistic and developed way:

We see the Native Americans that were supposedly tortured and killed by some guy called Ketchum, and we even see Ketchum himself! Well, for a very brief moment; he simply recreates his suicide and spews blood over Ryan Reynolds George.

This possesses him, and causes him to try and kill the rest of his family as they try to escape the house.

Kathy knocks Ryan Reynolds George out and takes him off the property to release him from Ketchum’s control.

Aside from the greater detail regarding Ketchum - that is, we discover that he was in a cult and was a reverend - we also see Jodie for the first time. No, she’s not the demonic pig we see in the first film. She’s a young creepy-ass girl instead.

What a trade!

The film ends just like the OG, with a title card explaining that they pissed off and never returned to the house. But once again, a divergence with the 1970s version is revealed. 

No, not the questionable hairstyles and cinematic style that looks like it was filmed with a toaster:

The final scene shows Jodie scream in terror inside the house as the furniture rearranges itself. She is then dragged beneath the floorboards by two hands, and the screen fades to black…

This confirms that this movie - alongside the later renditions of the story - don’t necessarily point to a specific haunting, but rather look at the house as the source of the haunting. In fact, they just skip out the DeFeos altogether!

This is down to the fact that the movies are directly based on the book of the same name which was released in 1977. Based off 45 hours worth of tapes from the Lutz family, this book wasn’t necessarily written with the family, but clearly had enough information to brew this highly controversial book.

The events charted in the book will be discussed later in this post.

Amityville: Awakening (2017)

The latest film in this franchise swaps out one famous face for another - Bella Thorne stars as a teen that moves into the infamous house with her family and brain-dead brother.

But instead of retelling the Lutz’s story yet again, it explores the power of the house as it slowly begins to possess the brother until he begins to carry out the murders that plague the house.

It is even revealed that the mother brought them to the house in the hope that the demonic energy would help the brother. But, with a gaggle of friends who know the story of the house - and even show the main character the 2005 film - they help her defend against the powers of the house.

The film ends with the sister dragging her brother out of the house and beyond the magic circle she drew, ending the power of the house over the brother after he begins murdering various family members.

The final scene notes that the main character is being questioned by the police, bringing us back to the main point of this post:

This haunting set itself apart by roping in the legal courts.

But how true were these films to the real claims made by the family? And what really happened on November 13th 1974?

What Really Happened At 112 Ocean Avenue?

Whenever someone mentions Amityville, someone gets sued.

Some guy writes a book? They get taken to court. Another bloke makes a film? Lawyers get pissy about the new details added in.

But obviously, this all started in 1974, when Ronald DeFeo killed all 6 members of his family at 112 Ocean Avenue. The courts definitely got involved then, and they are still are - he is currently serving time having been convicted of second degree murder in 1975.

The DeFeo’s deaths were rather peculiar though, mirroring an almost ritualistic scene; each victim was found lying in their bed, face down. At first he ran out of the house and reported that his family had been shot, only confessing days later that he was the killer.

The family had lived in the house since 1965, and thus spent a decade in what many presume to be a haunted due to the experiences of the Lutzes. Could this have caused the murders?

According to some, the paranormal forces could’ve been at the house before the DeFeos moved in as the insanity defense pedalled by DeFeo’s lawyers claimed that he heard the voices of his family plotting against him.

"Once I started, I just couldn't stop. It went so fast" - Ronald DeFeo 

I’m sure this mirrors the beliefs and actions of most murderers, but this sense of being out of control or maybe even not yourself certainly fits the bill of possession that the movies always pin on George Lutz.

The isolation of the George figure we see in the film and the voices heard throughout suggest this, but the DeFeo story is often skipped in the films and the books.  

Yet despite DeFeo’s confession, the murders are still bathed in mystery. The police were puzzled by the fact that the corpses showed no sign of struggle, and were confused by the sheer scale and speed that the killings would have required. On top of this, neighbours didn’t hear the shots despite the gun not having a silencer.

Even the motive was uncertain.

Sure, DeFeo did ask about his father’s life insurance very quickly following his death, but many didn’t think that was reason enough to kill one’s entire family.

DeFeo’s story has twisted and turned overtime, but one thing is for sure: no haunting is ever mentioned in this side of the story. 

None. Nada. Zilch.

This is why any retelling of Amityville focuses on the murders that took place there, but also tries to trace back the haunting to a satanic cause buried in the history of the house.

To this day the question still stands: what really caused the haunting of Amityville?

The book The Amityville Horror (1977) tries to answer this question, and charts each claim of the Lutz family. And unfortunately, it confirms that the films portray an uncomfortably accurate haunting.

The hauntings noted by the Lutz family are nothing short of incredible - however you interpret my use of that word..

The spooky goings-on reported include:

A priest being told to ‘get out’ and his subsequent telephone call warning the family to stay out of a room being cut short

George would wake up at 3.15am an check the boathouse - this was the estimated time of the murders

Flies would swarm the house despite their arrival in mid-winter

Kathy would have violent and detailed nightmares about the murders

The family members all began to sleep on their stomachs

Missy, the daughter, made an imaginary friend called Jodie, a pig with red glowing eyes

Green slime oozed from walls

Hoof prints similar to that of a pig were spotted in the snow

However, the most intriguing piece of the paranormal discovered at Amityville was that small room with red walls that was found in the basement - a room considered to be the source of the evil in the house. And, just like in the films, the family dog had severe reactions to it such as cowering and refusing to go near it.

It was only when they fled to a relative’s house and saw slime coming up the stairs towards them that they decided that they would not be returning to 112 Ocean Avenue.

Evidently the silver screen tapped into the nature of the hauntings, but the possession of George Lutz? According to the Lutzes, it only went as far as George noticing that he bore a resemblance to Ronald.

What about Reverend Ketchum? And the Native American burial ground?  

Doesn’t exist and didn’t happen. 

Well, okay, some bloke called Ketchum would have existed - this was a popular name for settlers from England. But there’s no evidence that he spent his spare time in a cult or murdered Native Americans there. And the Shinnecock Native Americans? Sure, they exist, but leaders claimed this was not a burial ground.

In reality, all we have is a chaotic level of activity.

Or do we?

The book has encountered a fair share of controversy, with most major details being overturned.

Hoof prints in the snow? It didn’t snow that day.

The red room? It was a closet, and it wasn't concealed.

The claims by the priest? He never said they were of paranormal origin.

"Nothing weird ever happened, except for people coming by because of the book and the movie." - The couple that lived there after the Lutzes.

The 9 Other Cases Of Evidence Of The Paranormal Being Used In Court

I love me a ghost.

The problem is, there’s a lot of ‘em.

You’d think Amityville was like the only case where the paranormal made their way into court cases, stamping the supernatural into legal files and sending shivers down the jury’s spine…

But unfortunately, that is not true.

It turns out that tales of haunting are actually clogging up legal archives. And no, I don’t mean cases where a woman would sneeze in the 16th century and they would legally have some right to burn her cause clearly she was a witch.

In fact, some of these mysterious mentions have founded laws!

“Alexa, play the Legally Blonde soundtrack.”

#1 - The Greenbrier Ghost

Woman dies. Husband acts suspicious. Husband acts more suspicious. Ghost tells mother the husband did it. Case closed.

No, seriously - that’s what happened.

Elva Zona Heaster was murdered in 1897 at the hands of her husband. Having broken her neck, he claimed complications with pregnancy killed her, and dressed the corpse to prevent people seeing the real cause of her death.

The grandmother was the first to become unsure of his story having washed the scarf that was tied around her daughter’s definitely-not-f*cked-up neck and being unable to wash out a blood stain. She began to pray, and her daughter’s spirit explained to her what occurred.

She even did an Exorcist and twisted her head round to confirm just in case her mam didn’t get the message.

She reported the sighting, and the deputies immediately questioned people of interest. The body was reinvestigated, and the husband arrested.

Boom. Ghosted.

#2 - The Hammersmith Ghost Murder

You’d expect most cases mentioned here to involve someone being murdered and their ghost being the problem, right?

This bad boy bucks the trend.

Its 1803, and we are in fair London town. A ghost is on the loose from, I don’t know, hell, and is wandering the streets. An armed patrol is in the area to protect the citizens when a figure emerges, wearing all white.

“Looks pretty ghosty to me, must shoot ghost” thinks one of the armed patrol guys. They shoot ghost, but ghost is actually a bricklayer.

F*ck.

The British courts thus debate whether attacking or killing someone out of a misunderstanding counts as a crime. It officially becomes a part of UK law that stands to this day that such an act is not worthy of a sentence as if the crime was intentionally committed.

#3 - Stambovsky vs. Ackley

Also known as The Ghostbusters Ruling, this takes us to the other side of the Pond, all the way to New York. Oh, and this time we aren’t in the 19th century, it's 1991, instead.

The story goes a buyer bought a house that was widely believed to be haunted, but they weren't aware of these claims. Thus, they asked for a recission of the contract and claimed that this sale was fraudulent as they concealed the haunting to avoid lowering the sale price.

The courts - after much mocking and deliberation - finally came to the conclusion that legally the house was haunted, and therefore houses that are supposedly haunted must be presented in this way.

#4 - The Devil Made Me Do It Case

This case does what it says on the tin, and is even set to be the basis for the next instalment of The Conjuring franchise.

The trial of Arne Cheyenne Johnson has already been covered by this blog (that awesome post about The Conjuring 3),  but for those not up-to-date on all the amazing articles I do, I guess I’ll just have to fill you in:

The story goes that whilst clearing out a house they just rented, David Johnson encountered an old man - who we now believe to be a demon - that began to slowly possess him.

David was only 12 years old, so, to protect him, Arne (his father) asked for the demon to possess him instead.

However, it was during an altercation with their landlord, Alan Bono, that the demon reportedly influenced Arne’s actions and assisted in his murder. In fact, it was Lorraine Warren that was the first to go to the police and make the initial claim that it was the demon that caused the murder.

The legal team roped in lawyers who had worked on similar cases abroad, and exorcism specialists were encouraged to speak up and defend Arne.

Their efforts did not prove successful, however, and Arne was handed a sentence of 20 years. He only served 5.

#5 - Booty vs. Barnaby  

No, this isn’t the title of the next Cardi B album. Instead, it's another historic tale from my homeland.

Our story starts in 1687, when some bloke called Captain Barnaby is on holibobs in Stromboli. When he’s not busy shooting innocent animals, he’s watching his next door neighbour from London Town getting chased by a phantom into the mouth of an active volcano.

No, I’m serious.

The neighbour’s wife thought the story sounded ridiculous too, which is why she had him arrested for slander. But then 30 of his crew supported his claims, clearing his name, and leaving a rather peculiar tale clogging up our court records.

#6 - The Haunting Of Lowes Cottage, Derbyshire

For some reason, every person buying a house in the ‘90s was using the hottest new way to bag a bargain: just say it's haunted or somethin’!

And that’s exactly what happened in fair Derbyshire. The Smith family were keen to move into their new cosy ‘lil cottage, but the oozing walls, ghostly hands sexually assaulting family members, the pig faced boy and other strange occurrences were a cause for concern.

(Obviously.)

Having withheld payment for the property due to the events noted, they took the sellers to court, saying it should be reduced by £50,000. Even the vicar threw in his two cents, offering up the evidence which sounded a lot like a little house in a place called Amityville.

Ever heard of it?

The case was eventually thrown out of court by the judge.

#7 - Reed vs. King

Before the DeFeos were murdered, and before the Lutzes even made the mistake of telling their furniture movers to head to 112 Ocean Avenue, a court case regarding a haunted house first hit the legal scene.

Our story starts in Grass Valley. A family moved into a new home, but the estranged husband paid a visit one night, and murdered 5 of the family members and injured 2 others.

Many years passed, and the Reed family shacked up here. However, it was only when they were told of the true events that transpired that the new residents became concerned. Sure, no one mentioned a haunting per say, but they claimed that the house “retained an echo”.

Small bloody footprints, blood stains smeared on the walls - no, it's not the bathroom after I’ve emptied my Diva Cup - it’s what Reed began to see throughout the house.

Reed thus decided to sue the sellers of the house, claiming that they tried to conceal the murders to avoid a wowcher.com-esque deal. But, when the case went to court, Reed didn’t mention hide nor hare of potential ghosts - instead, the potential haunting was used against them to prove how ridiculous the claims were.

#8 - The Death Of Estefania Guitterez Lazaro

It’s been discussed, dissected, and even given a Netflix contract - the death of this Madrid teen in 1992 is  officially one of the most prominent cases of possession to date.

Despite slipping under the radar, this tale is known not for its rather simple story, but because it was the first modern-day haunting that was verified by police reports.

The story goes that Estefania died following a session using a Ouija board with her friends in school. When interrupted by a teacher for trying to contact the dead, Estefania became possessed. A strange vapour began to enter her mouth and nose, and from there her seizures and hallucinations began.

After her death in hospital, the family claimed there was a variety of paranormal activity occurring throughout the family home. From the picture of Estefania catching fire of its own accord, to unexplained noises and a rather slimy, broken crucifix, the police had seen enough.

A report was filed citing the unexplained events and confirmed it was the paranormal.

#9 - The Exorcism Of Anneliese Michel

This is one of the most tragic tales I’ve ever had to write about.

Anneliese Michel’s story has been detailed on this blog many-a-time, and has received its fair share of attention in popular culture, including in the film The Exorcism Of Anneliese Michel.

But the main reason it’s been recognised as possibly the most famous case of possession is because it brought the paranormal firmly into the legal courts. Due to Michel’s extremely weak state at the time of her death - including weighing only 68 pounds at the time of her death - the priests that carried out the exorcisms were charged with negligent homicide.

However, it's not the fact that they were charged that puts the supernatural spin on this case.

To fight their corner, the priests used tapes that recorded Michel’s exorcism to bolster their claims of her possession and had her body exhumed.

Their mere 6 month stint in jail was down to the jury’s beliefs that they didn’t intend to harm her, nor neglect her. And the suspension of their time behind bars confirms that their case was backed up by their claims.

But let it not be mistaken: the jury weren’t convinced that Michel was in fact possessed - they were convinced that Michel’s belief in her possession could only be alleviated by the priests’ actions.

*Bangs gavel* What’s your verdict?

Is the jury out? Are you pissin’ on my leg and telling me it’s raining?

Or are you still awake at 3am and waiting to see the glowing red eyes of little Missy’s childhood bestie?

If so, why not fill the rest of your evening with the rest of my awesome articles on real paranormal activity just like this... Don’t forget to hit follow, too, to get a new ghost story in your feed everyday!

#Horror Movies #best horror movies #amityville haunting #Amityville #the amityville horror #haunted places to visit #most haunted places in the world #haunted places #haunted house movie #the conjuring house #real ghost story #real scary story #the exorcism of emily rose #anneliese michel #ronal defeo #unsolved crime #unsolved mysteries #occult #satanism #the real conjuring house #borley rectory film #the haunting of hill house #the conjuring #the conjuring 3 #veronica #estefania gutierrez #Best horror movies 2019 #horror movies on netflix #stambovsky vs ackley #paranormal

[dekuinthelake]

Why I’m okay with people knowing I’m transgender

Firstly, I want to start off by saying that if you’re trans and for your own comfort and safety you don’t want to be “outed” that’s 100% understandable and you should not feel bad about that. We all need to move at our own pace when discovering our social limits and confidence. My journey will have not been the same as yours. I live in Colorado, a state that is fairly trans friendly and am a trans man, meaning I’ve most likely had a safer time than I might have elsewhere. Trans women have it especially difficult, and if you feel unsafe in a situation that’s up for you to gage. It doesn’t make you less valid or a coward or anything like that.

Just know that I’m writing this for you and other trans/nb folks. I want our choices to transition to feel like the right one, even when people who don’t understand are making you second guess.

Context:

From the time I was 16-23, I was immensely depressed. I dropped out of highschool because of an immense disillusionment for the future. Primarily, I believed I didn’t have one. I’d always been bad at school, so collage was out of the question. I thought I was too ugly to get married and so that traditional Mormon thing my mother specifically had impressed upon me, which was having kids obviously. Most people disliked me because at the time, I had an extremely aggressive and compulsive attitude thanks to being absolutely lost emotionally. I hated my body and my mind and was convinced the things I despised could never change.

Ironically, one of the thorns in my side was how I always wanted to be a man instead. I recall coming home from school some days and just curling up in bed and sobbing about it.

“If I was a boy, people wouldn’t make fun of my ugly ass body.” Something I felt primarily about my chest. Once I strangled a kid for pointing out my bra strap through a white shirt. No joke. I was volatile and pissed all the time because of dysphoria. Comments about being feminine quite literally triggered me growing up. Every violent fight I remember growing up was caused by someone making fun of me in relation to female gender.

Despite this problem being so obvious, my religious parents took me to Mormon operated therapy. The suggestions I was given by councilors was typically “Have you tried praying about it?” Or “Are you going to Young Women’s every Sunday?” For those of you who don’t know, in the LDS church, they separate Sunday school for age groups based on gender. In particular, they forced all girls to wear dresses.

Having that identity forced on me every Sunday against my will from a very young age caused me to resist in aggressive attitude. Hit a kid in the face with my bible bag once for telling me I should be in the kitchen.

Another unfortunate side effect of the Mormon upbringing was literally not knowing that trans people even existed. I recall seeing trans people (like with waiter we had once) and being a little perplexed but not too bothered. But no one had ever explained the concept to me until much, much later.

After I had dropped out, a friend of mine came out and at the time the concept was alien. I’d spent so much time in my life trying to choke down any hope of being a guy because of religion it seemed impossible to even change genders. But then a mutual friend between me and my trans one (who is now my roommate) explained to me in a car ride I still remember vividly about what testosterone does to your body. Bit of a side note, but the ‘micro phalus’ thing was something I straight didn’t believe and OH BOY LMAOOOO.

Anyway, with that information now tumbling around on my mind... I accepted my friend and continued to ignore my obvious feelings!

Life marched on. I sunk in to gaming addiction, depression, and repression. I think I first tried to kill my self when I was 20 years old. I had quit my job thanks to a car crash I got in to and sunk in to doing absolutely nothing but playing MMOs for months. Eventually I just convinced myself there was no possible way my life could anything meaningful or productive. I had a fairly unhelpful stay in a mental hospital. I got out, got a job at the Denver zoo as a janitor.

I coasted for a few years there. That job taught me a lot. People skills, how to work hard, how to care about the future... And one of my coworkers was a trans man. We didn’t talk much about his transition. Mostly we just talked about cool things at work and how shitty customers were.

I think that kind of interaction was so important to me. To everyone, him being trans was just natural. No one cared and he seemed pretty happy.

With that information I started to do a bit of research on my own. I’m not sure how many months of consideration I had before coming out subtly to my current roommate in a car.

At the time, pondering coming out to everyone around me and having to confront my body every day in mirrors I cleaned for a living became a sort of hell. I worked the 4am shift and had no one to talk to for the entire duration of my work day, leaving me with lots of time to watch videos and think. I mean I mentally battled myself to the point I was in a lot of pain. So I started taking pain killers, mood stabilizers, drinking, and smoking weed in excess. Since I worked in the dark alone, no one would know how fucked up I was. The primary wrench in me finally accepting my own needs was again that feeling of hopelessness. The process of transition seemed so intimidating. It’s expensive. It will take effort. What if I fuck this or that up?

Early 2017, I tried to kill myself again after months of tormenting myself. I remember when they put me in the ICU and asked for my name, I told them Mike instead of my now dead name. The nurses asked if I had a pronoun preference and I just couldn’t say anything at all. But the chart whiteboad hanging on the wall in front of my bed said “Mike’s”. Everyone who came to visit me saw this. In a way, I had forced myself to come out. My stay in the mental hospital provided the same information as the last, but this time I was more ready to accept it.

One of the exercises we did was write plans for the future. Before, I had left it blank. But this time? I had goals. One of them was to come out officially in a far less destructive fashion. My dad seemed to accept it but not fully support. Due to family tensions that were somewhat unrelated to coming out, I ended up moving out in Late September 2018.

Soon everyone in my personal life knew. I got laid off with my entire department at the zoo. I remember coming out to some of my coworkers based on how religious they were the last day. My next job, I introduced myself as Mike and even got a name tag.

At the end of 2018 I started on hormones after a battle to get ahold of a doctor. Since then, I’ve been a lot happier.

I’ve lost over 100lbs and started working out.

I’m currently working the highest paying job I’ve ever had.

I’m living in an apartment with people I really care about.

The people I keep around me accept my pronouns and are proud of me coming out.

I’ve grown a mustache I love so much I can’t bare to shave it.

The power of self actualization

In every respect, coming out and presenting myself in exactly the way I want to has improved my life. For me that included medically transitioning. It’s like I finally have something to look forward to. All the little changes make me excited and more confident in what I like every day.

Even minor things like clothing are now these exciting vehicles of self expression. I never used to buy things I liked since my parents controlled what I was and was not aloud to wear. And even when I got my own money, those standards forced upon me by Mormonism held me back. Every pay check has more meaning when I’m replacing the old life that I hated so much. I seriously love this tiger shirt I got.

I’m proud to tell people I’m trans because finally admitting to myself has improved my life and mental health and unimaginable degree. I went from wanting to die basically at all times to having excitement for what comes next. I’m enjoying activities that I never would have before. Going to gay bars and dancing has been so enriching for me and I absolutely never would have done that before when I was all angry and bristly.

Being trans can be such a possitive experience. It’s freedom. It’s being able to live your life comfortably.

I know there are a lot of people who don’t understand or don’t want to because of their upbringing... and if you are one of those people who managed to read all this, please know they if you’re anti-trans, you’re anti-freedom of expression, anti-mental health, and anti-social.

Coming out was like removing a clog from my life. I’ve FINALLY been able to start living. And that’s something I want people to know about me. I felt dead before I changed my name and pronouns.

By the way. I’m Mike. He/him. 25. And I’m not going to try and kill my self ever again because I’m enjoying my big trans life.👌

#long post #trans #transgender #pride #trans pride #guess this is my new years post #HAPPY NEW YEARS

[ethanfreakingdolan]

A Star In The Sky- Part 3

‘It’s just business’

a/n- apologies for the shitty lyrics, i’m a producer not a songwriter dudes. i do have a country version of the song recorded though...

“What? Bro why? She sounds great? Why the fuck wouldn’t you go back for seconds” Grayson nudged his brother in the ribs. Oblivious to the tears pushing forward in his producer's eyes.

“Yeah.” Y/N added, “why wouldn’t you go back?” She could feel Kyle’s eyes on her as she stared at Ethan. She couldn’t look away as she felt her heart in her throat. Ethan continued looking at the ground as he made up an excuse about the imaginary girl leaving town. Prompting a groan from his brother before they all attempted to return to their work.

~

The time came where they all decided to send Felicity out for lunch which prompted a bathroom break from Kyle and Grayson.

Leaving Y/N and Ethan alone for the first time that day.

The room was tense, to say the least, Ethan feeling incredibly guilty and Y/N feeling incredibly heartbroken. 

“I’m sorry,” Ethan broke the uncomfortable silence, “I really like you but I got home and I realised I can’t mix business with pleasure you know?” 

She got it. More than he realised, maybe she should tell him that?

“I get it, it’s just business.” It was, she knew they shouldn’t be doing anything because of how that ended for her last time. She decided to distract herself and check her phone to see she had a message from Kyle telling her he was going to distract Grayson by giving him a full tour of the studio. Leaving her with Ethan so she had time.

With a sigh, “I had a boyfriend,” she started, catching the attention of the man in her company, “He was a client as well though, everything was going good with us. We were going to move in together and everything, he was climbing the charts and we seemed unstoppable. Until I came home and found him sobbing on the couch over a contract. His management wanted him to enter a pr relationship, just as he’d mentioned about finally telling his fans about us. They thought this other chick would be better for his career than some random producer. He fought and fought to try and convince them I could be just as good but they weren’t having it. Said he could stay with me in private but publicly he would be with this random Instagram model.” Ethan’s attention was fully on her now intrigued as to where this was going and how it linked to their situation.

“We tried to make it work but it just couldn’t. I couldn’t handle seeing him all over this other woman no matter how fake I knew it was. I told him it was a fake relationship for his career or a real one for his happiness, and he couldn’t throw away the publicity he was getting. It was fairly civil until he next came into the studio to work with me and Kyle, and she came with him. She spent all day making comments degrading me, about me moving on quick, about how I’d downgraded to Kyle. Could not have been more wrong though, but my ex was laughing with her and I couldn’t take it. He made a comment about how me and Kyle had probably been at it the entire time I was with him and just lied about being basically siblings. I snapped and threw him out of the studio, we severed all ties and I refused to let him even work here with another production team. Lost his deal and with it, the multi-millions he was bringing in, caused massive financial damage to the studio and a lot of my higher-ups told me I was very close to being fired as a producer.” She was on the brink of tears reliving it all.

Ethan’s eyes went wide. He’d never expected that. He questioned if she could actually get fired from a company she owned, so she explained she’d still have had control over the company she just wouldn’t have been able to work there. In that respect, she was just another employee.

“They couldn’t risk losing me and Kyle though. They knew that if I went so would he and not to blow my own trumpet but we’re kind of the best team around here.” The pair both cracked a smile at her last comment. Ethan apologised for somewhat leading her on and then saying what he did in front of everyone. Promising not to turn out like her ‘sorry excuse for a human being’ ex-boyfriend. His words, not hers.

~

When everyone eventually returned to record things seemed to run a lot smoother. There was still some insults thrown between Grayson and Y/N but it seemed significantly more playful, she noted to ask Kyle if it had anything to do with the studio tour he was given. She couldn’t complain though, it was a nice change. 

They went over the takes they already had to decide whether they were done with the instrumental, moving on to the next part Y/N was surprised to see Ethan stepping into the vocal booth. He normally only did instrumentals. Grayson was the vocalist? The producer shared a confused look with her engineer before Grayson stepped in to clear the confusion.

“He wrote this one, said it was kinda personal and he wanted to do the vocals. He’s done them before and he’s actually good I promise.” Well, this was going to be an interesting track. 

“With the paintings on our skin                                                                                 And the colours in our hair                                                                                    There’s nothing that we didn’t share                                                                       

We had to let it go                                                                                                    We had to move on                                                                                                  With our lives

Let me go                                                                                                              Move on and let me go                                                                                            I don’t want you no more

So just let it go

With music in the air                                                                                              And love within your stare                                                                                      There’s nothing that we didn’t share

We had to let it go                                                                                                  We had to move on                                                                                                  With our lives

Let me go                                                                                                              Move on and let me go                                                                                            I don’t want you no more

So just let it go

With tears upon my cheeks                                                                                    And your mascara falling down in streaks                                                              What happened to the things we used to share”

Y/N, Kyle and Felicity were all taken back by the powerful voice that left his throat. His breath control was incredible and it was clear he knew his voice very well. Grayson was sat with a grin of pride on his face, always so proud of the talents his brother possessed and encouraging him to at least do more backing vocals. 

“That was amazing E, one more take just to make sure and I think we can all go home. Yeah?” Y/N announced through to his booth and they all agreed.

~

“Who knew Ethan was such a good vocalist? Like that really surprised us all.” Kyle tried to act natural on the way home.

“Just ask the question you really want to.” Seeing straight through his facade. 

“What happened with Ethan when me and Grayson left?” The tall man couldn’t hide his enthusiasm in finding out what happened. So she explained how she told him all about her ex and how he explained why he said what he did. Kyle understood as much as she did where Ethan was coming from, he was there to see what happened with her ex after all. He was the one who held her as she cried for days and had to force her to shower. She told Kyle she would rather not be alone at that moment because she was still kinda hurt about how Ethan handled things. After being her best friend for so long Kyle was aware that that was code for ‘we’re ordering takeout and I’m staying around yours tonight so get ready for some serious cuddling’.

That was exactly what they did. They ordered Chinese, watched a movie and then cuddled like they always do. 

“Ky? Why do you put up with me and all my baggage?” He was expecting this, she always gets like this after a hard day.

“Because it pays the bills” this earned him a slap on the chest, “I’m joking, I do it because you are amazing and talented, I am incredibly proud to call you my best friend, my sister.”

“I love you Ky.”

“I love you too.”

“I really do, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Kyle. Who else was there after all that shit with Xavier?”

“Hey! Do not say that fucking name in my apartment!”

Xavier Ward, internationally renowned singer/songwriter. The rest of the world was completely oblivious to the fact he was also an asshole.

 ~

The twins sat on their couch together watching some stupid sitcom Grayson put on. Grayson was harassing his brother about the imaginary girl from the night before. The older twin gave as truthful a description of the girl as he could without his brother getting suspicious.

“Hey what did you and Kyle talk about when he showed you around the studio?” Ethan spoke in an attempt to get the conversation off himself.

“Oh he was just telling me about all the different tracks they’ve worked on, did you know their last client before us was Xavier Ward? And they’ve worked on 30 different number ones over the past two years?” Xavier Ward. If he was the one before them then he was her ex. He never liked his music anyway but had to admit it was well made. Y/N and Kyle really were the best in the business. Grayson carried on talking but Ethan was just nodding along, too in his own head about Xavier to pay any attention.

~

After the twins had decided to call it for the night they headed into their own rooms where Grayson had some quality ‘alone time’ with himself and his hand, and Ethan busied himself stalking his producer’s ex-boyfriends Instagram. Thirty weeks deep into the singer’s social media he found the start of the photos with a certain model. Knowing what he did he could tell it was all for show, but as he scrolled back up he could see where it got more real.

He had to admit the girl was very pretty and she had a decent following, but Y/N was prettier to him and he didn’t care about her followers. Ethan decided he couldn’t stand to look at the man’s face any longer knowing what he did to the girl he slowly found himself falling for. He moved on to her own Instagram, which was fairly sparse. A few selfies, couple of pictures she’d taken with Kyle, one or two family photos from Christmases but nothing major. He wondered if she’d posted any photos with her ex and then deleted them. He followed her and without thinking turned on post notifications before plugging in his phone and going to sleep.     

Reminding himself one more time, it’s just business.

#dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins imagines #dolan twins x reader #ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan imagines #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan imagines #grayson dolan x reader