The writers know what they are doing. If you were in Lances situation wouldn’t you hide? Wouldnt you want to avoid talking about your insecurities? I would do this same thing Lance is doing. He’s not ready to open up, he doesn’t get overly mad like Keith and admit he has walls built up because unlike Keith, Lance doesnt want to admit it. It takes more than a few months of outerspace, in a ship with 6 other people, and a few missions for Lance to want to talk about his family, his inferiority complex, and such.
Just give him a chance.
Jeremy Shada even said Lance was going to grow.
Trust them. I know it’s hard. But try.
I could go on and on but I dont have the energy right now.
There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland. Riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!
The Coruscant underworld, also called the lower levels or undercity, were the levels underneath the surface structures of the planet Coruscant.
the underworld was a world of its own, with hundreds of levels built on top of each other. Undercity dwellers often had to breathe toxic fumes from millennia of urbanizations. sunlight did not reach the lower levels leaving them in a perpetual state of darkness illuminated only by artificial lights and advertisement holograms.
The underworld, containing a vast population of the poor and criminal, was a dark and violent place. There were numerous establishments for entertainment and criminal activity alike. Those who wanted to disappear to hide from the authorities or to conduct illegal transactions could blend in despite the presence of the underworld police, a division of the Coruscant Security Force.
My hollowed eyeballs
Sink deeper into my bones
Looking inward at my own flesh
I see the little god in me
Budding outward, and I
Breathe out to feed its unformed petals
The stem lengthen and strengthen
Through these black lashes
jutting out in arches
Like golden half-moon structures
Leading to the starry city
A mini divinity sitting on sunflowers.
Breathing in the fumes of my tea
I find my center in the corner of a wall.
One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume.
Your car jerks, wheels skidding on the ice beneath the freshly fallen snow. Driving on ice wasn’t something new to you. You drop your gear, slowing your engine and brake slowly. Just like your dad showed you. The bottom of the hill is approaching, slowly, steadily. There is no one driving along the cross street and you figure you’ll go ahead and coast through the intersection. It was only another couple blocks until you were home. Suddenly you jerk forward, head hitting the steering wheel, you car goes careening into the embankment that goes to a sewage run off canal. There’s a flash of red and you see a large truck skidding past your car as you slide into the canal sideways. Everything happens so fast you aren’t sure if you’re right side up or upside down. There’s a loud crunching, something hits you in the back of the head, glass shatters and you are jarred to a very sudden stop. The world is spinning, your head hurts and your leg feels like someone is sitting on it. You glance down and there is blood all over your jeans.
“Hello?! Are you awake?!” someone, a man, yells from far away.
You can’t see anything, vision spotty and snow covering your windshield. You look to your left and see your phone beside you…on the window. The car is on it’s side. “Help!” you yell but you can’t help but feel like it’s not quite loud enough. “Help! My leg!” your voice is weak and you start to cry, tears burning your eyes, pain and frustration getting the best of you.
“I’ve called for help!” the male voice shouts, still quite far away. “Are you hurt?!”
“My leg….my leg,” you sob, voice cracking. There’s a bitter sweet acrid smell permeating the air and suddenly you can’t breathe. It was suffocating, sickeningly sweet. You knew that smell. It was antifreeze leaking from your car. Your heart races, you’re scared that this is the end. This was how you died. In a flipped car, asphyxiated on chemical fumes and bleeding to death. You pass out, the smell and the pain in your leg overwhelming you.
The entire house seems to be
packed from top to bottom. There are people dancing in the living room, people
mixing drinks in the kitchen, and couples connected in lip locks lining the
stairs. The bass from whatever rap song is pouring through the speakers shakes
the house and you’re almost certain that the cops will be there to shut you
down at some point in the near future but you can’t really bring yourself to
Johnny’s hands are on your
hips and his lips occasionally brush butterfly kisses along the exposed skin of
your shoulder as the two of you mingle with a group of friends on the back
porch. Everyone seems to be in a good mood, the party is in full swing, and the
night is just getting started. But every time his fingers brush along the
sliver of exposed skin at your hip, you can’t wait for the party to be over.
You know that he’s trying to
get you back for your teasing earlier in the morning. He’s trying to get you
back for the peeks of lingerie and the promise of a spectacular birthday gift
(only to later find out that it was concert tickets, which he was still excited
about but he’d gotten his hopes up for sex). But you also know that neither of
you are the most patient of people. The teasing can only last so much longer
before one, or both, of you snap.
Notes: swearing, flirting, implied smut, fluff, Bucky is a hopeless romantic.
A/N: With courting comes gifts! And restraint. A lot of it.
If you would’ve seen how Bucky beat himself up over making you doubt his motives, all doubt would’ve left your mind. When he returned home after dropping you off with a chaste, lingering kiss to your cheek and a soft bid goodnight, he rested his back against his closed front door and let his head thump back against it.
With a groan he closed his eyes, wondering how he could’ve been so damn stupid.
Request: Could you make one with Yoongi being some sort of demon/vampire boss that every one is super scared of but then there is Y/N, Yoongi is in love with her and everyone is always super impressed how Yoongi always surrenders and softens when something is about her? He’s super protective and wants to please her in his own way, thank you for doing this i love you
Summary: Demons are merciless, demons are ruthless, demons can’t hold nothing dear to them. Yoongi is the leader, the king of the demon world. He is feared as he is respected, no one expected him to bring a human girl as his lover, you. You fell in love and now you are in the midst of adjusting to the demon world, its custums, and its dangers. But everything is worth it if is for him, the demon king that lives between shadows and that would turn hell apart to protect you.
You were wrapped in the blankets with a book on your lap and the tv on to have it as background noise, but none of it really distracted your mind of Yoongi and Sonya.
You didn’t want to be the typical dramatic girlfriend, although thinking yourself as a girlfriend fell short in what you thought you were. You were his lover, his partner. So you didn’t understand why he hadn’t mentioned meeting his ex, if you could call her that.
You thought it was the shock, it wasn’t like you hadn’t known he had had other women, but seeing him with one of them, in the same room, coming alone from who knows where made you scowl with anger. In the past he had told you women who crossed him had suffered the consequences, a threat to you that should have driven you away from him, but here you were. He hadn’t told you he was in good terms with at least one of them.
The worst thing was he wasn’t coming. Staying still and waiting wouldn’t be something you’d do although you were forcing yourself to do just that, you thought about going wherever he was just to make yourself present, but then you also thought about leaving, but as you didn’t have any other place for the moment you had to stay. That fact made you even angrier, maybe you should just call Anji or Yuri to go out for a moment, the day was ending and going out just like that would be more than imprudent but you truly wanted it.
You thought that if he wasn’t coming in half an hour then you’d go out, at the moment you weren’t considering if you were overreacting or not, you just thought about how wronged you felt. They had heard them, people or other demons, had heard them having sex. It made you crazy imaging it.
You were contemplating the few clothes you had with you, you hadn’t even gone shopping but then it wasn’t like you had the mind to think about that, the door opened and he came in, he seemed surprised to see you but you ignored it, drifting your eyes again to the few pieces of clothing hanging in the closet.
-What?- he asked unceremoniously but you ignored him again. -Y/N- he pressed and you didn’t hear him coming, only noticing him when he was standing beside you. -Are you going out?- You nodded. -Care to tell me? Haven’t you have enough for one day?-
You huffed. -The nerve-
-What?- he asked again. -Why are you angry?-
You rolled your eyes at him, you thought Taehyung would have told him about it, or Jungkook or even Jimin, but they didn’t so maybe they were on your side, or maybe they just didn’t care about some stupid jealousy problem.
-Why didn’t you tell me?-
-Tell you what?-
-You meeting with you “ex”- you crossed your arms. Yoongi stared at you for a moment, you were breathing heavily, fuming, but he just stared at you, all over, and after what you thought was too long and you were thinking what to say to him he chuckled, he actually chuckled.
Summary: You and your best friend Taehyung have recently got into the same
university in the capital of Seoul. Hoping that this was your year to finally
admit your romantic feelings towards your said best friend, uni seems an
exciting prospect. But of course, the future never really goes according to
The next few days were trying. Confusion and pain swallowed
up your thoughts as you watched Taehyung try his best at being overly happy,
smiling widely whenever you caught his eye but his face dropping solemn as soon
as he thought you weren’t looking. Jungkook was also doing his hardest to pull
you out of the mess of your worries, but you sunk deeper every time you saw
Taehyung’s pen stop midsentence in class, his eyes blank as he stared at the
desk, or when you brushed his hand slightly with yours when you were walking
together, and he’d subtly recoil at your touch. He was fragile, and it only
strengthened the urge to pull him close in solace.
No matter how many times you told him that he didn’t have to
put on a front, he continued to say that nothing was wrong. But he talked too
much, too quickly, and he never quite met you in the eyes when he said he was
okay. Instead, he let his pale orange hair shadow his face, bottling up his
emotions once more.
“He just doesn’t seem to understand that it’s okay to be
upset,” you whined, digging your toes into the carpet and letting your arms
flop to your sides in defeat.
You were round the boys’ house, but the only people there
were you and Jungkook, as Jin and Namjoon had gone home for the weekend and
Taehyung was nowhere to be seen. Sitting on the sofa with only a few lamps to
light the room and a film playing in the background, it was the perfect setting
for romance. However, once the topic of Taehyung came up, you couldn’t stop yourself.
“I really don’t want him to be suppressing how he feels. Tried
and tested that one, and I can confirm it
doesn’t work. Obviously, I’m not going to force him to talk to me if he
doesn’t want to, but I wish he’d stop pretending.”
“You know, you don’t have to be Taehyung’s personal carer,”
grumbled Jungkook, helping himself to a third plateful of food from the array
of dishes on the coffee table. Although he kept his expression blank, you’d
come to recognise the signs of his different emotions. They weren’t obvious,
but his ‘pissed off’ signals were a fire in his eyes, the slight straightening
in his back, and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, all of which he was
showing at that moment.
Stretching out your foot to the other end of the sofa where
he sat, you prodded him with your toe to get him to look at you. “Hey,” you
said softly. “I’m sorry for talking about Tae. I know you wanted to have a
As you spoke, your phone buzzed in your pocket as someone
tried to ring you. Reading the caller ID and seeing Taehyung’s name, you looked
up at Jungkook to check his reaction. He knew who was calling, as Hoseok and
Yoongi were both working, and you didn’t have anyone else who would be checking
up on you.
Jungkook’s eyes flashed with annoyance, his deep brown
irises seeming to grow darker. Not wanting him to get more worked up, you let
your phone buzz until it ran out of time and cancelled the call. However, just
as you were about to put your phone away, Taehyung tried again and your phone
went off once more.
Knowing that something was up, you decided to answer and deal
with Jungkook afterwards. “Yeah, I’m here,” you said as a way of greeting.
“I need to talk to
you,” he said bluntly. There wasn’t any urgency behind his voice, but it
was the most pensive you’d heard him for a while. Gone was the usual happy
façade, and at last, he seemed to have given in.
Jungkook was staring at you fixatedly, and you tore your
gaze away, as if looking at him for too long would agitate him further. “Um,
sure,” you stammered, cradling your phone to your ear. “Uh… can we talk later?
I’m busy at the moment.”
“Okay. Please call me
“I will, I promise.”
After hanging up, you peered at Jungkook, expecting to see
him looking more relaxed after you’d rejected Taehyung’s offer, but instead,
his neck was red and he looked ready to cry.
“Guk?” you said worriedly. When he didn’t respond, you
scooted up the sofa so you could hook your arms around his shoulders in
comfort. However, he remained unflinching and didn’t acknowledge your touch, with
his face remaining passive and unreadable while his eyes filled up with tears.
He took a large sniff before turning to you, and finally you
could see the hurt and anger under the blank mask he wore. “I can’t deal with
it anymore,” he stated flatly, without a trace of warmth in his tone. “If you
want to make this work, then you’ve got to stop whatever you’ve got with
Taehyung. I really like you, Y/N, and I want you to look at me. Not Taehyung. I need all of you.”
The hopes of a romantic atmosphere were dashed as you felt
Jungkook’s possessiveness seep into your skin, but his words wriggled in your
chest as they hit home. Jungkook didn’t deserve your wavering emotions, but at
the same time, you knew you were unable to give him your full attention.
“Jungkook,” you swallowed, watching him pull at his bottom lip with his teeth.
“I need more time. To get over him.”
“How much more time?” he questioned, his voice growing
louder. “It’s getting ridiculous! You need to stop being selfish, because I’m
done with it. Make up your mind, Y/N. You either want me or Taehyung, and you
can’t have both. I’m tired.”
“I want to make things work with you! But to do that, I need
to sort out my own problems first. I can’t just drop everything and live happily
ever after. It was never going to be that easy, and I thought you knew what you
were getting into.”
“Knew?” he spluttered, pushing you away roughly and standing
up. Veins stood out on his arms as he fumed, breathing heavily as he held in
the full force of his anger. “I knew that I would be helping you, but I didn’t
count on being your backup plan. You’re being completely deluded – all you need
to do is pick a side. Shouldn’t be that hard, even for you.” Without another
work, he stalked out of the room, leaving you on the verge of tears.
There weren’t even words to describe the remorse and despair
you felt after Jungkook had abruptly departed. Stunned into silence, you stared
at the dishes of food left on the side, growing cold as they lay there
neglected. What should you do now?
In your heart of hearts, there was only one real option.
There was no way that Jungkook would be happy until you’d sorted something out,
and nor would you. Although it killed you to hurt one of them, you had no
choice; you got yourself into this mess, so you couldn’t rely on Jungkook to
pull you out.
You rang Taehyung. However, as soon as you heard his deep
voice on the other end of the line, your throat cracked and hot tears rolled
down your face. “Tae,” you mumbled, your voice choked up. “I need to see you.”
Taehyung didn’t hesitate as he heard your distressed demand,
not bothering to question why you were suddenly upset. “Meet me at the cupcake
shop in 15 minutes,” he ordered. “It’s okay, whatever it is. We can talk it
through. See you then, Y/N.”
The last thing you wanted was for Hoseok and Yoongi to
observe what was about to happen, especially as they knew so much about
Taehyung without ever meeting him. You texted Yoongi on the way to the shop,
hoping that he’d check his phone as he worked.
You [4:45] having a chat with taehyung in
cupcake corner. Please pretend you have no idea who I am!!!
Taehyung had hung up the phone so quickly that you didn’t
get the chance to argue the choice of location, and as he still had no idea
about the dance competition, you could imagine how awkward introductions to
your new friends would be. You were there to sort things out, not create more
Yoongi [4:49] sorry, who is this?
p.s. I’ll have a coconut and mango cake ready
To your displeasure, Taehyung was seated at one of the
tables closest to the counter, right under the nose of the Hoseok and Yoongi;
the perfect distance for eavesdropping. However, you looked at Yoongi straight
in the eye as you walked up to pay, daring him to mention something and give
the game away. Keeping to his word, he calmly handed you the change and pulled
out a readymade cupcake as promised.
“What’s happened?” Taehyung asked concernedly, his eyes
filled with worry as you sat down with a defeated thump. “You’re going to get
wrinkles when you frown like that.”
He was trying to lighten the mood, but you ignored him.
“Jungkook said some things, and I’m realising that I’ve been in the wrong the
whole time,” you confessed.
“By the looks of things, I don’t think he said anything.”
You stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“Y/N, I’ve been friends with you for a while now. You have
that look on your face, like someone just died. Your eyes are red and
considering you were fine one minute and upset the next tells me that Jungkook
was involved.” He took a big drag of his coffee, but didn’t take his eyes off
you as you blinked furiously, trying to hold back any more tears that were
threatening to escape. “What did he do?” he questioned, reaching across the
table to rub your arm soothingly.
Taking a wobbly breath, you glanced round to check if Hoseok
or Yoongi were listening. Hoseok was on the other side of the room, preoccupied
with an electric whisk that didn’t seem to be working, but Yoongi, on the other
hand, stood nearby cleaning the counter. Although he had his head down, he kept
his body rotated in such a way that he could snoop in on the gossip.
Taehyung pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as you began
recalling the earlier events in hushed tones, so Yoongi couldn’t hear. “He got
annoyed because I’ve been messing with his emotions,” you blurted. “I knew I
shouldn’t take advantage of his generosity, but I did and it was a stupid
mistake to make.” You launched into detail about what happened when Taehyung
had rung your phone, but your friend wasn’t having any of it, and jumped
straight to the point.
“What did he say to you?” he interrupted, growing more and
more serious as you told the story, with his eyes growing hazy and his grip on
your arm becoming firm.
“I swear, it was nothing. He was right, anyway. I am deluded and I am selfish, but I guess I hadn’t really thought about it too much.
I didn’t want to admit to myself-”
“He said what?” Taehyung’s voice was quiet, but the sort of
quiet that comes from extreme anger. A bad sign. “Jungkook was saying that to
“He called you deluded?” As he raised his voice, you became
aware of Yoongi standing stock still at the counter, his ears pricked up and
alert at your conversation. “No wonder you got upset. Even if you made a
mistake, he has no right to insult you. What an idiot!”
Taking a quick peek out of the corner of your eye, you could
see Yoongi trembling with a silent rage, his jaw clenching and unclenching as
he struggled to keep in his temper. Anything that hurt his friends wound him up
immensely, but you sent him mental pleads to stay mute and not say a word.
Looking back at Taehyung, you noticed that he too was
bottling up his true frustration as he faintly rocked back and forth in his
chair, holding back an outburst of anger.
“Tae, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal, please. I just
needed to see you to talk about something else. Well, it’s sort of related to
that. But you wanted to tell me something first. That’s why you rang?” You gave
Taehyung’s hand a squeeze in reassurance, and he obeyed your request and sat
back in reluctance.
“Well,” he sighed, “I don’t think my matter is important
anymore. What did you want to say?”
“No, you go,” you demanded.
“Seriously, I think you should. I promise, it can wait.”
Nodding in surrender, you took Taehyung’s hand and led him
outside the shop, past the inquisitive looks from Hoseok and Yoongi and into
the warm haze of the late afternoon, just so the two boys couldn’t hear your
next words. Taehyung looked confused, but you held up his hands in front of him
and focused on the writing of his shirt. The words were in English, and you
noticed a grammatical error of the sentence, but you didn’t point it out.
Instead, you fixated on the letters as you planned what to say next very carefully.
“We shouldn’t be meeting like this anymore,” you stated,
your mouth struggling to get around each syllable, as if subconsciously your
brain was telling you to stop talking. But you had to say it. You can’t have both. “We need to keep
our distance. Jungkook gets jealous, and it’s not his fault. I feel- felt, exactly the same, and it’s one of
the worst feelings in the world. I can’t put him through that, especially when
he’s tried so hard to be kind and loving. It’s the least I can give him. Do you
You should’ve stayed fixated on the lettering of the shirt, because
as soon as your gaze trailed up to Taehyung’s soft eyes and his quivering lower
lip, you felt as if you’d just slapped him. There was a silence following your
words, which was only filled by the sounds of the city and the biting whistle
of the wind that tossed around Taehyung’s hair. Your clothes billowed around
you and you could feel your cheeks turning pink from the chill, but Taehyung
“So, that’s it?” he said finally, a with a small hint of hesitation.
“You’re going to stop talking to me because your boyfriend gets uptight?”
“No, I’m doing this to get over you. I’ve spent way too long
having false hopes.”
All you need to do is
pick a side.
“You can’t end our friendship!” he exclaimed, letting out
huffy laughter incredulously.
“We need some time apart,” you corrected. There was a sharp
stabbing in your chest, but you dismissed it. I need all of you. “You ignored my feelings about you, even though
I spilled my one biggest secret that left me completely vulnerable to you. But
all you did was push it aside, and it killed me, Tae. So, I’m being selfish by
allowing for someone to love me. If keeping my distance from you lets me do
that, then I’ve got to try.” Your last sentence came out in a sob, the hurt
driving through your body in an unstoppable wave.
Taehyung was dumbfounded, but the forgiving look in his eyes
told you that he wasn’t going to stop you from leaving. Even if you’d told him
you’d blown up his house, he probably would’ve hugged you and told you it didn’t
matter. And that’s what was so toxic; he was loving and gentle, and you clung
to that because it made you feel comfortable.
“We’ve always only had each other, and it can’t be like that
anymore. We need to get out of this pit, before we get too deep,” you said,
with a finality that signalled the end of the conversation.
“I think it’s too late for that,” Taehyung admitted, his
voice cracking and his ears turning a bright shade of red. Going red out of
embarrassment was something you rarely saw, but you were in too much of a state
to think too deeply about it.
“I need to think about Jungkook – that’s the least he
deserves right now.” Bowing your head, you turned yourself away so you didn’t
have to observe the disappointment and the confusion written on his face.
Despite all the years you’d been friends, situations and circumstances had
changed; it couldn’t be harmonious forever. For so long you and Taehyung had
got along with no problems, but it was too good to last. Perhaps it was a
disaster waiting to happen, you weren’t sure. Out of respect, Taehyung bowed in
response, but the tears filling his eyes told you that he was far from okay
about the outcome.
But there was nothing you could do. Jungkook needed you to
be faithful, both physically and mentally. Although he didn’t tell you in the
most careful and gentle of ways, he got his point across: he wasn’t about to
fight for something that wasn’t available to him in the first place.
Taehyung kept his eyes upon you as you left, his eyebrows
upturned and his hair unkempt and scruffy as a result of his fingers running
through his pastel orange locks. You refused to look back, knowing that it only
took one glance to melt your defences. You couldn’t give yourself that
momentary weakness. Not again.
It put you at peace, knowing that you both had time to grow
without the other person there. But it was peace in the saddest way possible.
Lance and Pidge are on a planet with an atmosphere of poisonous gas. Pidge is hacking a computer system when Lance notices that her O2 tank had been hit in the battle and sprung a leak–its nearly empty. He tries to alert her, but she’s so focused that she tells him to leave her alone til she’s finished. Lance wordlessly hooks her up to his own tank, leaving himself to breathe in the noxious fumes. Pidge finishes hacking and turns to Lance excitedly. “We did it, Lance!” He doesn’t reply, and he’s ashen and listless. “…Lance?” Her eyes follow the tube that goes from her own breathing apparatus to… his O2 tank. Well, fuck.
he met her
in a sunlit meadow
flowers seemed to bloom in her wake
trailing her skirts like a wedding train
as she ran
straight into his arms
they wrapped around her reflexively
where his skin touched
the flowers wilted
his chin brushed the stalk
of wheat behind her ear
his breath hitched
the fumes of the Underworld
caught behind his teeth
she burned against him
—this child of life
with birdsong rosy in her cheeks
wreathed in the perfume of growing things
the sun’s rays curled about her shoulders
like apollo had draped them there himself
he could feel the roots of the dead
twining around his ankles
stretching eager fingers
toward the maiden, and he
he presided over the dead
it was not his job to deliver
death to them
her fingers looked like
fragile plant stems
but they dug into his robes
like the strongest roots
when he yanked back
she tore away fistfuls
of black fabric
that pooled over her hands
as souls did
her eyes were
fountains brimming over
they fell to the black carpet
beneath his feet
she reached a hand to him—
and took his, “please, take me away”
(he’d heard thousands begging
thanatos not to take them,
but never someone asking him to)
“why?“ spilled over his lips
but she shook her head,
chestnut ringlets bouncing about her face
“the flowers have eyes,” she said
“take me where none will grow”
hades met persephone
when she was running
from her mother
he saw the fear in her eyes
but not for him this time
she took shelter where
her mother’s creation could not
she took up residence
on death row
when zeus condemned her
he offered the pomegranate
he tasted the juice on her lips
when she kissed him
whispering “you saved me”
against his mouth
he could still taste the sweetness
beneath the blood
when he lied to demeter
and she hit him for “tricking” her daughter
eventually she stopped
running from her mother
running toward him
BREATHING IN FUMES / Chapter #2 / Fly on the Windscreen [Final] [For high res: click on the images, wait the loading of the previews, then right click > open in a new tab] » Listen the song ”Fly on the Windscreen [Final]” here. Second chapter of my new Faberry Comic.
I’m very sorry, it took me la lot of time even if this chapter it’s only five pages, but it’s not a good time for me right now, but I want to say that if I take my time it’s because I have not time or I don’t feel good. So, be patience. In the next more Faberry interaction and dialogues. Hope you like it.
NOTES: - You can use all the drawing in the pages as icon if you want without ask me. - Please don’t post it on Facebook, PLEASE. - Ask me if there will be any problem or questions.
see you at the next chapter … that I hope it will come soon. patronustrip
anonymous said: heyy could you make a jugheadxreader with 16 & 77?
prompt: 16- “you make me feel like i’m not good enough” & 77- “i can’t.. i can’t lose you”
chapter song: medecine // joji
y/n’s shoulders slouch in disappointment as jughead walks past her without any greeting.
y/n jogs up to catch up to him, panting because of the lack of exercise, “h-hey jug! what’s up?”
jughead keeps walking, looking straight as he strolls to the exit.
she hadn’t talked to him properly this past week, the jason murder was solved, so why keep secrets when relationships are supposed to be about trust?
on the other side, jughead has been hiding something and he never wanted her to know that something is happening behind the scenes with betty. betty cooper.
he honestly had never planned for this, in reality, he had fun playing with y/n’s emotions and he didn’t like it.
jug had never expected to turn out this way, playing with girls hearts? he’s getting himself into some really deep shit.
they respected each other’s personal space for they are both just introverted teens who needed a getaway with their thoughts and emotions, but jughead not saying a word to y/n for a week didn’t make her anxiety any better.
she had never felt anything like this. her stomach flipping upside down, her legs feeling weak, her head feeling light. she felt as if she never met to everyone’s expectations, she didn’t want to be claimed a people pleaser but she y/n doesn’t want to be involved in drama that lasts for a whole damn year.
y/n stops in her tracks, watching his broad silhouette shrink from a distance.
“jughead, are you sure you’re not with y/n.” betty interrogates jughead, making the beanie-clad boy scoff.
being at the blue & gold meant more quality time together and hiding things that aren’t meant to go out into the outside world yet.
“why would i cheat? i swear, i’m not a liar.” he laughs, kissing her nose.
little did she know, he is lying. and he’s still with y/n.
“hmm,” his eyebrows raise, “fine, i trust you.”
“he’s literally so dreamy and the way he talks is so soothing, it’s like- music to my ears!” betty exclaims, daydreaming of the boy she had been working with.
“are you sure he’s not with y/n? it might cause drama.” v skeptically asks the poor girl, unaware of their on-going relationship.
betty nods furiously, answering with, “jughead reassured me they weren’t.”
ronnie mumbles under her breath, “oh boy.”
as soon as the conversation ends, y/n comes into the room calmly.
“yo, what’s up?” she asks the two girls, they shrug and talk about their days as per usual.
the noise of the television entering as white noise to y/n’s ears, waiting for a reply from her beloved.
she had never felt so deprived of waiting for something that she knows won’t come back to her.
‘this is hopeless.’ she thinks to herself, rising up from her sitting position ad leaving her phone on the coffee table.
she heads out the door, hoping for a
—somewhat— relaxing walk outside.
the subtle evening breeze hits her face, making her squint a bit.
the sound of silence was always her way to flee from anything, really.
the trees rustling quietly as the wind blew them away. people have ways of relaxing, being alone or with jughead was always her escape.
the dim lights coming from houses at night made it more relaxing, the scene becoming more subtle and safe in her little idle town.
she gets closer she gets to pops, the neon lights define her face creating shadows in the features.
whilst passing by the window, seeing friends & families bonding over dinner she spots someone sitting in the back of the booths or rather two people sitting together.
y/n cautiously turns over to the window to see her acquaintance and beloved, on a date.
now you may say, ‘they’re probably just hanging out, ya know?’ nope, i don’t think feeding your friend fries while fiddling with each other’s hand is just a friendly thing.
her thoughts and emotions clash in her mind, creating a breakdown and the confidence to face them, through the window.
‘are you fucking serious?’ y/n mouths, making betty and jughead’s eyes widen in shock.
she furiously makes her way back, her chest heaving from the stress. jughead scrambles and slips out apologies to betty cooper, the girl he had been dating behind y/n’s back.
“y/n, wait!” jughead exclaims, chasing after his, now, ex girlfriend.
“was this really all a game to you, forsythe?” he cringes back as he hears his real name dripping from her mouth.
he soon regains his confidence as fast as he can and mumbles, “don’t call me that.”
“what have we become? huh, jughead? was i just a dummy for you to get what you really wanted? was i just a practice target?” y/n breathes out, obviously fuming about the scene she has just witnessed with her own two eyes.
“i-i’m sorry,” he places his hand on her shoulder but she resists, his hand falling back to his side.
“you know, you make me feel like i’m not good enough, even the from the fucking beginning of all of this i’ve never felt so- so pathetic!” she growls back, tears streaming from her face.
“y/n i- i’m sorry. but i just- i can’t.. i can’t lose you.” jughead’s words fill with guilt and sorrow for the girl he had just broken.
“if you don’t love anymore, say it,” his head snaps towards her, tilting his head, “just fucking say you don’t want me! stop lying, it’s pointless.”
“i don’t love you, i-i love betty cooper.” he whimpers out in pain, creating y/n to sob quietly.
“say it louder, let riverdale know who you’re loving behind my back.” y/n’s eye’s roll, the tears still dropping and her voice weakening.
“i love betty cooper! i don’t love you anymore!” he yells at her as she simply nods, turning her back to him.
“i’m sorry, y/n.”
“good to know.” her tears cascading to the concrete, leaving jughead in disbelief.
I wish you would write a fic where Hanzo kicks down a door just to tell McCree that he's an idiot and he loves him.
SINCE YOU ASKED. :)
It’s incredibly late; McCree is almost asleep after spending a lonely evening watching old movies on his tablet. A few of the others had been having some drinks, but McCree had had a difficult mission and his arm was aching something fierce. Also, Hanzo hadn’t been there, and McCree didn’t think any gathering was worth attending if it didn’t result in Hanzo getting tipsy and draping himself all over McCree.
He was getting terribly mixed messages from the archer. With a little bit of liquid courage, Hanzo would talk to him all night and seem to be flirting – a hand on his arm, leaning in close to murmur in his ear, staring at him from across the room if they were parted. Then the next day he’d get the cold shoulder – glares at the breakfast table, grunted responses to attempts at conversation, and ignored requests to train together. It’s doing McCree’s head in.
McCree is taken aback when he suddenly hears a pounding at his door. His musing interrupted, he sits bolt upright and calls, “who is it?”
“Me,” a gravelly voice responds. It’s Hanzo. McCree sighs; he’s tired, and he doesn’t think he can deal with Hanzo’s hot and cold behaviour towards him right now.
“It’s a bit late. I’m not–”
The door bursts open and McCree stares at the shape standing in the doorway, his leg still out from having kicked the door down. Actually literally kicked the damn thing off its hinges.
“What the fuck,” McCree growls. Hanzo stalks in, glaring down at the door, which he lifts off the floor and props back into the gap. “Hanzo. It’s late.”
“You were not at the drinks,” Hanzo states. He’s swaying slightly; McCree guesses he showed up late and made up for lost time.
“Yeah, uh.” McCree rubs the back of his neck.
“I wanted to talk to you.” Hanzo sits down on the edge of the bed, McCree quickly shifting his legs out of the way. “You are an idiot.”
McCree scoffs. “Yeah, darlin’, we all know that. Was there something new you wanted to tell me?” He looks away; the smell of alcohol is strong on Hanzo’s breath, the fumes emanating from his entire body. He doesn’t want to have to deal with Hanzo’s alcohol-fueled affection right now.
“You are an idiot, and I love you.”
McCree blinks. “Uh. What?”
Hanzo growls. “You are an idiot and I love you. Must I repeat myself again?”
“But – you ignore me!” McCree bleats in confusion. “You don’t like me! You only like me when you’re drunk!”
“Yes.” Hanzo sighs. “I am only brave enough to show you how I feel when I am drunk.” He leans in close, the smell of sake strong enough to make McCree’s eyes water. “I am very drunk, and I am in love with you.” He clumsily bumps his lips against McCree’s, and McCree responds momentarily before drawing back, his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders.
“Well, uh, why don’t you just lie down here next to me?” McCree suggests. “Then in the morning, when you’re sober, you can tell me again.”
“Will you believe me then?” Hanzo asks, his voice petulant. He leans heavily against McCree, the alcohol obviously taking its toll.
“Yeah,” McCree says, “I will.”
“Mm k.” Hanzo rests his forehead against McCree’s shoulder and a few seconds later, he’s snoring. McCree sighs and clumsily shifts the archer around so he’s lying next to him, and switches the bedside light out. It’ll be interesting to see what happens in the morning.
It’s a beautiful morning. McCree stretches and yawns, rolling over to see how Hanzo is doing.
The bed next to him is empty, and McCree sits up, glancing around in confusion. He’s about to get up and go searching for the man when he hears the sound of retching from the bathroom. He winces and waits a few minutes until it sounds like Hanzo is done, then slides out of bed and knocks on the bathroom door.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I am alive,” comes the pathetic sounding reply.
“Still love me?”
There’s a pause, then Hanzo replies. “Yes. But only if you get me some water.”