it sunk in


Summers in New York are a special kind of magic.  It’s idyllic to Nursey, to be able to spend the day with a book in Central Park, to spend five hours writing in a cafe down the block from his family brownstone, to go out with friends to a Thai restaurant that’s open until 2 AM and talk about politics, philosophy, and petty gossip in the same breath.  He tells Dex as much on one of their nightly phone calls.  Nursey was flopped down on his bed, having toed off his shoes and wriggled out of his too-tight skinny jeans and grinning while Dex talked about lobster trawling and how he had pocket money for the first time in forever. 

“It’s crazy,” Dex laughed. “I never realized that there weren’t any places to shop around here until I actually had cash to spend!”

Nursey could picture him, sunk into a worn out leather armchair and wearing a flannel that smelled like sea air, cradling the phone to his ear.  He idly thought about how strange it must be to live in the middle of nowhere, without the hustle and bustle of the big city to rock you to bed at night.  What was it like to live without a crowd surrounding you? Was it lonely, to be so on your own, so isolated?  Or was it freeing to have some space to yourself, where you could breathe?

“Can you see the stars in your town?” Nursey asks, seemingly out of nowhere, but Dex knows by now that Nursey’s questions always have their reasons, it’s just that Nursey doesn’t always give them at first.  He’s a poet like that.

“Yeah,” Dex says, his laugh coming through the phone.  Nursey can hear the soft exhale that means Dex is trying to be quiet, doesn’t want someone to hear. “I guess you don’t have stars in the big city?”

“None that aren’t on a billboard.” Nursey replies. Dex snorts. Nursey likes that, making him laugh loudly, without reservation.  It worries him, something prodding gently in the back of his mind as to why exactly Dex is so quiet on the phone sometimes, why he doesn’t want anyone on his end to hear him laughing.  Nursey rolls over.  He looks out his window, at the sidewalk, then up at the sky.  No stars to be seen.

“Y’know,” Nursey says carefully, “There are plenty of places down here to spend your money.” 

 He hears Dex’s breath catch on the other end, but he keeps going.  

“I mean, the flannel here is a little more expensive than it is in Maine, but I think it’ll suit you fine.”

Nursey tries to sound light, but his heart is caught in his throat for some indeterminable reason, and it only falls back into his chest where it belongs when he hears Dex say yes, he’ll come down.

They talk for a little while longer, making plans. Dex’ll come down in a week, spend a week in New York with Nursey while his uncle’s lobster trawler gets repaired, and then drive back up to Maine.  Nursey offers to fly him down, but Dex blanches at the offer, and Nursey quickly lets it drop. If Dex wants to take the scenic route, that’s fine by Nursey.  When the pair hang up, it’s light outside.  It isn’t the first time that they’ve lost track of time and talked through the night, but it’s the first time that Nursey hasn’t felt tired afterwards. 

Later that day, Nursey falls asleep in a hammock at Central Park, a poem about gold crescendo and silver muting sailing through his mind, the book of poems heavy on his chest.  There’s a grin on his face. Oh yes, he thinks.  Summers in New York have a special kind of magic.

“We’re going to go home soon,” James began. “And if the change is agreeable with your siblings, you’ll stay in Loxley’s room. I’m sure Summer wouldn’t want to share a room with you. You’re grounded, and that includes your phone. I expect you to study very hard for these exams, Faye, and think very seriously about where you’ll end up after school, because you won’t be staying home without paying rent.”

Faye opened her mouth to argue, but James sent her a scathing look. Clearly, beneath his disappointment, he was furious with her. She bit back what she had been going to say and sunk further into her seat.

Your Fault [Jongin x Reader]

Rating: T+15

Warning: violence

Word Count: 1197

Mafia Reaction: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII

Mafia One Shots: Junmyeon | Chanyeol

Originally posted by guccimxmi

Jongin held your hand as he Smiled at you.  His other hand on the wheel as you sat in his car outside of the diner you worked at. It was currently 6:00 and he was keeping you from going inside.

“I have to be in there in 15 minutes.”  You looked out the window as one of your co-workers smiled waving at you.  

“But that just takes you away from me, which I don’t think I like too much.”  Jongin raised your hand kissing each knuckle as you giggled.

“Yes, but a girl’s gotta eat.”  You leaned over kissing his cheek as he turned, catching your lips instead.  He smiled as he continued to kiss you. The feeling of overwhelming delight sunk in, along with a slight feeling of uneasy dread. Pulling away you frowned as he tried to coax a smile out of you.  

“Why so sad love?”  He moved a piece of hair behind your ear as he smiled.

“Not sad. Just slightly apprehension.”  You leaned over quickly pecking him on the lips. A smile back on yours. Grabbing your bag you opened the car door.  “Thanks for dropping me off.  Call you later?”  He nodded as you walked into the diner. Knowing his eyes were fully on you the entire time. 

It was close to midnight when the diner was almost completely Empty and it was just currently you, the cook, and a woman in her fifties named Ruth.

“Don’t you love him?”  She asked.  You nodding our head as you heard the bell over the door ring.

“That’s what makes me so nervous.  Usually when you get a guy like this, there’s a catch.  I’m just waiting for the catch.”  Smiling you turned around to get the three men menus.  

“How can I help you three this lovely bright morning.”  You joked as the one taller of the group smiled at you.

“Are you ___?”  You pointed to your name tag.  “Jongin’s girl?”  Your heart began to beat fast as you nodded.

“You know Jongin?”  

“Through rumors.”  Another one said as you wanted to take a step back.

“Can I get you started on anything?”  Suddenly one of them placed a gun on the table. You wanted to scream but he held up a finger silencing you.  

“Scream or say anything, and I will not only shot you, but old Ruthie there, and Tim the new night shift cook.”  

“Who are you?”  You stammered out as he smiled.

“Jackson.   This is Jr.  and BamBam.”  You wanted to laugh at the nicknames but he gun was still pointed at your stomach.  The bell over the door chimed again as you looked to see an out of breath Jongin and two others with him. BamBam turned and smiled at them.

“Jongin. So glad for you to join us.”  Jongin walked over slowly, the two others following.

“You brought friends Jongin.  Their cute! You should bring them around more often.” Ruth joked as Jongin nodded, smiling as to not to alarm her.  Tim called for her in the back as Jongin walked over, his eyes saw the gun, and his expression went from slight anger to pure rage.  

“Jongin?”  You asked as he quickly tried to hide his own fear.  

“Hello love.  It’s going to be alright.”  He kissed your forehead.  His two friends slide into the booth across from the three as Jongin sat on the end.  His hand gripped yours as you tried to keep your eyes off the gun.  

“What brings you three here?”  Jongin asked as the one Jr. looked up at you.  

“She has a very big price on her head.”  You tried to keep the tears in, and the shaking to stop, but you couldn’t.  Your head was spinning as Jongin gripped your hand tighter.  

“She has nothing to do with any of that.”  He breathed out as his one friend held his hand on other arm.  

“Jongin.”  He hissed as he tried to keep his temper at bay.  

“She’s worth more alive than dead.  Who did you piss off at F.T. Island anyway?”  Jackson asked, as you felt your knees begin to give out.  

“What do you want?”  The other friend asked.  

“So quick to get to the point.”  Jr. whispered as he pointed the gun to your head.  You couldn’t out in the whimper as the gun was visible to everyone.  

“We want a deal.”  

“What kind of deal.”  Jongin stood up, trying to block the path, but the other one pulled a gun out as well.  You saw in his waistband a gun.  You looked at his back, wondering who this man was.  Reaching in the back, trying to hide your movements, you slipped the gun out, and put it in Jongin’s hand.  Everything happened so fast, as Jongin, pushed you behind him to the floor as you scurried to the back door.  A couple of gunfire rang out as you ran into the kitchen where Tim and Ruth were both ducking from the noise.  Suddenly one of Jongin’s friends came in the back and picked you up.  

“Names Jongdae.”  He stated as he lifted you up off the ground and carried you out the back door to a waiting car.  He quickly got in the driver’s side as Jongin and the other friend bolted from the back.  Jongin slide into the back as the other got into the passenger side.  

“Jongin!  What is going on?!”  You yell as he held onto his arm.  “Are you bleeding?”  You asked as he shook his head.  

“It's’ just a graze. I’ll be fine.”  Turning to you, he went to put his hand on your arm but you shoved him off.  

“No, Jongin.  What the hell is going on?”  

“They were from a rival gang.”  the one in the passenger side stated.

“Minseok, shut up!”  He yelled as he winced in pain.  

“Jongin, you’re not fine.  We need to take you to the doc, now.”  

“No, let me out.”  

“Please, ___.  I didn’t mean to hide it, I just didn’t know how to…to…tell you.”  He started to lose his sight.  You saw blood coming out of his side.  

“Jongin?”  You called as his head fell into lap.  “Jongin!”  

“Jongdae!”  Minseok yelled as he sped up.  

“We will be there in five.”  

When Jongin awoke, he looked around for you, but instead found the rest of his brothers.  

“Where is she?”  He asked, as Chanyeol stood up.

“You were shot in your stomach, you’ve been out for a couple of days.  Your lucky to-”

“Where is she?”  Kyungsoo looked up from his chair.  Jongin’s sister held his hand as he looked directly at his boss.

“She’s gone.  Once she knew you were in stable condition, she took off.”  Jongin tried to get up but was held down by his sister and Jongdae.  “We tried to offer her protection but she refused, saying she could handle it on her own.”  Kyungsoo stood up and walked to the bottom of his bed.  “I have men looking for her, but she already left her apartment and quit her job.  She’s in the wind.”  Jongin, laid back down, fighting back tears.

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Writing muse pops up to talk about my Brainstorm/Chromedome fusion!! Yay!!

Somewhere, in the back of or deep down in your processor, the pained shrieks of the mech in your grasp gave rise to small bubbles of regretful and guilty thoughts. Somehow those howling pleas wrung from his vocalized as your needles sunk ever deeper into his plating filled you with disgust and the urge to cease.

But you didn’t stop. You didn’t even hesitate.

Separate, you two were soft and kind, albeit very rough around the edges and a little frightening to witness at work, but you’d never hurt anyone. Never intentionally. But at the same time, between the two of you, the universe had not returned the affections of your easily-loving sparks, your once innocent and curious minds, and your gentle servos. Both of you had been so hurt.

The Institute.
The killswitch.
The briefcase.
Your needles.

There was a friendship born out of that mutual struggle, a harmony that was forged strong through comfort and held firm despite your insufferable attributes.

And now you’re together. Processors joined. Thoughts intertwined. Now you can actually feel each other’s pain, your furies combining, intertwining, overwhelming. But it’s mutual, and that’s what makes you dangerous. Pain is pain is pain is pain, all giving rise to rage but it’s the solidarity and the understanding of another that can make the rage to seem justifiable.

Maybe that’s why you don’t stop, your needles pushing in up to the hilt, the tips of your digits meeting his plating as he screamed his apologies too little too late. It was because his screams were being deafened by the voices going back and forth in your mind.

“It’s okay.”
“I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you.”
“He won’t hurt you.”
“I won’t let him.”
“I’m going to stop it.”
“I’m going to make it stop.”
“We’re going to be okay.”

The words are like an embrace, you welcome it because it’s warm like the tears always flowing freely from your optics and not the mech now silent and gray in your hold. It’s where you’re not a weapon or a tool or a storyteller’s favorite tragedy story.

Here, together, you are safe, and nothing ever has to hurt you again.


Finally take a break from binging on other video games and the first thing I draw is a depressing Prompto… ;_; At least he’s looking back on happy times!

appreciation for ben platt:

he was put on vocal rest 2 days straight before the tony’s. at the tony’s, he sang his pure and beautiful heart out like nothing had happened.
he named his whole cast and family and would’ve pulled a Bette Midler if he went slow.
he was so happy. he took his mom as a date. he got pie from sara bareilles and sunk down his chair when he was mentioned on stage for comedy. he was sweating like crazy but was such a beautiful angel.
He along with his musical won. He deserves so much and i love him so much.


Do not use or repost my art without my permission! Reblog instead!

TheMeatly: “Bendy is a cartoon character who came to life, seeking revenge and kills!

Me: *draws him in pastel, with red glasses and a heart tail*