i just.. . can’t get over sign of the times. there is so much feeling in it - hope, desperation, strength, vulnerability, pain, love, bravery - and all of it is so palpable, i feel like i can taste it in the air while the song’s playing. he pulls you in at the very first note and tangles you into his soul with every note after that. the energy in his voice just. it washes over you, wave after wave, like an ocean of electricity and emotion.
“let’s keep this between the two of us.” Azriel and Feyre?
“Let’s keep this between the two of us, okay?” Feyre mutters to Az as he slips, unobtrusively into her bedchamber and she jumps to her feet, hurrying to meet him.
The shadowsinger just nods, ever dutiful to his High Lady’s every wish.
“No-one saw you come up here, did they?” she can’t help herself asking anxiously, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting Rhys to burst through the door at any moment and catch them together.
Azriel just gives her a flat look that implies he’s insulted she would even ask such a thing of him. Perks of being a super spy, she supposes.
“Alright, I’m ready,” she says, holding out a hand in invitation. Azriel grips it tightly and they winnow into shadow and darkness. They emerge moments later onto the pleasantly warm Velaris streets, pleasantly bustling but not overly crowded, something neither of them would have appreciated.
They set off together, Azriel quietly leading the way while Feyre follows, smiling and nodding at some of the people they pass who wave greetings to her. “Thanks so much for this, Az,” she puffs out, checking her bag to ensure she brought her purse with her. She doesn’t usually, typically relying on the convenient credit she has in most stores, but she doesn’t want Rhys to have any inclination of her purchase today. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s no trouble,” he says, leading them down into a quiet, shaded street and walking to the very end, a small store tucked into the corner. “I live to serve at the High Lady’s pleasure.” She squints up at him, one eyebrow raised, and he smirks. “And entertaining as his last birthday was, I understand it’s not an experience you want to repeat.”
“No,” Feyre groans, burying her face in a hand at the shame of it. She has many talents and she loves her mate dearly, as Azriel knows, but gift buying has never been her strong-suit. And the bastard has a habit of finding exactly what she wants every single year without fail. Just once she wants to get him something absolutely perfect. Fortunately, she has a secret weapon in the form of Azriel.
“Really though,” she grumbles, pushing into the shop after him, “Who’s allergic to strawberries?”
“Rhys,” Azriel hums simply in that way that implies he knows everything in the world and that nothing could ever surprise him.
Well, he had been surprised last year when Rhys had taken a large bite from one of the chocolates she had delightedly given him and then promptly started choking. The shadowsinger hadn’t been expecting that. Unfortunately neither had she.
“And Keir,” he adds as an apparently innocent afterthought.
Feyre blinks, startled, looking round at him. She supposes it’s not too odd, Keir and Rhys are related, even distantly. Still, “I suspect that comes from the list you have tucked away somewhere that details every known method of killing that bastard; not a concern for the steward’s meal choices?” She muses lightly. That tugs a small, dark smirk out of Az.
Azriel leads her to the back of the shop then stops in front of one of the small, dusty glass-fronted cabinets to let her see what he’s picked out for her. She opens her mouth to point out that the display is stuffed full of items, she isn’t sure which one he means, but she stops when she sees it, her face lighting up in a smile. Hugging a rather startled Az she whispers, “It’s perfect.” And is relieved when he accepts the hug, smiling, patting her rather awkwardly on the shoulder to convey his acceptance of her gratitude.
Once Feyre has made her purchase and had it carefully wrapped up by the owner, who seems friendly with Azriel, well, as friendly as anyone can be with him, the two wander back out onto the streets of Velaris. Feyre insists on dragging him into a nearby shop and pressing a large amount of fine differently coloured balls of wool into Az’s protesting hands and then further insists on taking him for a quiet cup of tea.
She rarely spends time alone with the shadowsinger, he always seems to be out somewhere on some secret mission sometimes she doubts even Rhys knows about. That or closeted up in his room with Mor, enjoying the time he has with her. Usually she only has conversations with him like this when they all go to Rita’s and neither of them feel much like dancing for an hour or so.
It’s nice, though. Azriel has a quiet, oddly calming presence, even with the shadows darting around him, whispering, always whispering. There’s a comfort to being around him, a sense of safety, and an odd feeling that she could tell him anything and he would simply nod and understand. As a result, Az is the one she’s gone to more times than she can count when she’s had a difficult decision about the court to make that she doesn’t want to put on her mate. He inevitably listens to all she has to say and offers a few quiet insights that help her make up her mind. She values his opinion, and his friendship, more highly than she thinks he’ll ever know.
Not longer after they’ve sat down in a comfortable booth by the window, they’re both brought two teas and slices of cake that she hadn’t ordered, but that she suspects Azriel did, given that they’re both topped with liberal amounts of strawberries and that their arrival prompts a rare, mischievous smile to blossom across his lips.
Feyre nibbles at her cake then decides now is as good a time as any to bring up what she wants to, as well as have her revenge for this little dig about the strawberries. Looking slyly at Az over the rim of her cup she says innocently, “I’m sorry to take you away from Mor, I know you just got back, you must have been wanting to spend some time with her.”
Azriel just blinks at her, saying nothing, as he drops a lump of sugar into his tea. Then another. Then another. She’s discovered, from these little retreats they make to this place from time to time when they both need a little peace and quiet, that he takes an inordinate amount of sugar in his tea. He had confessed to her once, with a small smile, that it was his one and only weakness.
Finally, carefully, too carefully, Azriel says, “I’ll have plenty of time to brief Mor, later.” Yes, brief her, amongst other things.
“Mm,” Feyre muses, taking a small sip of tea, “Wouldn’t you rather have spent the morning with her than me?”
Azriel blinks, apparently genuinely bemused by this comment, “You’re my friend, Feyre,” he says quietly, sincerely, “I like spending time with both of you.” Damn. She really should leave the subtlety and intrigue up to Az as well as the gift choosing. And he’s too earnest and good-natured, there’s no fun in teasing him at all.
“Azriel,” she says quietly, a soft smile tugging at her lips, “I know.” He blinks owlishly up at her again, clearly implying you know what? And she just scowls at him because if she doesn’t get to tease him then she’s not playing games with him either.
A deep flush of colour burns into Az’s cheeks as he stares at her, “How?” he rasps eventually and she smirks smugly at him.
“You’re not the only one who can know other people’s secrets, Az,” she says with a grin, taking another pointed bite of the strawberry cake, which really isn’t half bad. She might have to bring Rhys here at some point, then she might have half a chance of finishing a dessert on her own without the High Lord’s spoon magically making its way over to her plate while he twitters about ‘mating bond equality’ and ‘what’s yours is mine, Feyre darling’.
Azriel’s face darkens at that and a low, protective growl rumbles in his chest, “Who told you?” he demands, hands curling into fists.
She starts in surprise at the sudden black venom in his voice and opens her mouth to say something when Azriel freezes, apparently realising how he’d reacted. The blush on his cheeks darkens and his wings twitch, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly, and she has her suspicions that he and Mor haven’t been together for long confirmed, based on his response.
“It’s alright, I understand,” she says quietly, and she does. That need to protect, to keep her safe must be heightened for the two of them after the amount of time they spent apart. She smiles, “And no-one told me, Az,” she huffs, a faint hint of playful scolding in her tone, “I can find some things out without the help of you and your spies, you know, I’m not blind.”
“Says the woman who didn’t notice for nearly fifty years that her mate is allergic to strawberries,” Az mumbles into his tea, but she notes the playful spark in his eyes and resists the urge to kick him under the table with difficulty.
Instead she reaches over and takes his hand, “I’m happy for you, Azriel. For both of you. You deserve this,” she gives his hand a soft squeeze and finally manages to coax a faint smile from him. “But why-”
“Didn’t we tell anyone?” Azriel supplies for her. She supposes he has to find some way to claw back his composure, the best way he knows how, making sure he knows everything she does. Mostly. She nods. He shifts uncomfortably, wings rustling in agitation at his back as he shrugs. “We would have, when we were ready,” he says quietly. “We’re just…Not.” She’s never seen him so discomposed before, he’s usually the picture of articulate eloquence. But Mor…She does this to him. “Not yet, Feyre, please-”
She gives his hand another quick squeeze, smiling, “I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone, Az, I promise.” He smiles, nodding his head, and thanks her.
They finish their tea and cake and then Feyre winnows him to Mor’s townhouse before returning herself to the House of Wind to finish up her preparations for Rhys’ birthday.
The next day, her mate is delighted by the delicate ornament of crystal Illyrian wings she gives him, after having spent all of the day before painting them, accenting the details until they’re a near perfect replica of her mate’s own.
Feyre notes the way Azriel’s scarred, gentle hand slides around Mor’s waist, squeezing, drawing her in close, just for a moment while no-one else is watching….But misses the way Rhys raises his glass of wine in Azriel’s direction while she’s chatting to Mor, thanking his brother for picking out the gift. Az nods and smiles. The two of them are content to keep this particular secret between themselves for the rest of their long eternities.
Prompt: There’s this comedian called Michael Mcintyre
who has a chat show and sometimes plays this game called “send to
all” where he takes the guests phone and sends a mass text out then reads
the replies out. It’s on you tube and hilarious but anyway i was wondering if
you could do something where the reader is an actress on the show and agrees to
play and he sends out a flirty text or something like that and she gets a few
funny replies from Evans, Fassbender, Macavoy, Cumberbatch and TOM HIDDLESTON Note: Okay so I went a bit mad with this one and did make a few adjustments, however 99% of it is what was asked for. This one is for the lovely @dohegotthesuperbooty - I’m sorry it took so long (I’m really behind!!) - for anyone who is interested, the video behind this idea can be found here.
You were stood at the side of the stage awaiting your cue;
it was your turn to appear on several British chat shows to promote your new
film. You were staring in a new rom-com opposite Tom Hiddleston; the two of you
had become very close over the last course of shooting the film, a fact that
had purposely been left out of the media.
The show you were appearing on was that of comedian Michael
McIntyre. All you could think about was his infamous game of ‘Send to All’. The
producers had prepared you for the game; however it was up to the host as to
whether or not you would be playing.
From centre stage, you heard Michael call your name. You
began to walk over, the crowd went wild. Walking over to your seat, you waved
to the audience. Once you reached the spot where Michael was stood, he gave you
a friendly hug and welcomed you to the show. The two of you took your seats.
Once the crowd had quietened down, he welcomed you to the show once again.
“So, welcome to the show!” He smiled.
“Thank you!” You said with a smile, “Thanks for having me, I’m a big fan of the
show but I never thought I’d be sat here!” You exclaimed.
The interview was going extremely well, you were laughing
and joking with both the audience and the host. Then he said those words you
really didn’t want to hear.
“So we have a bit of a tradition on this show.” Michael began to laugh;
everyone knew what he was going to say. “I like to play a lovely little game called ‘Send to All’ with my guests, are you up
for a go?”
You started to think, what options did you have? If you were to say no… well,
you’d only be forced to play to prove you had nothing to hide.
“Sure!” You said, a little too enthusiastically.
“Excellent!” Michael matched your tone. “The rules are simple, I’m going to
come up with a message to send to all of the contacts in your phone and we’re
going to leave it over the course of the show and then see who replies!”
“Great, can you just not send it to my mum” you laughed, as did everyone else
in the studio.
“Okay, I think I’ve come up with the perfect message”
“Oh no” you joked as you handed over your phone.
“Here goes…” Michael typed each word as he said it. “Hey, it… feels… like
we haven’t seen… each other… in such a long time…” Michael stopped typing
and looked over to you, he was giggling at the message he was typing. You on
the other hand were using your laughter to disguise how red your face had
become. “Why don’t we…” he continued to type “meet up… for a drink… or two?”
Michael turned to you once again, “Do you use emoticons?” he asked.
“Probably too much” you responded.
“Excellent, how about little kisses?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess, just one though. And always lowercase!” you added.
“In that case, I’ll add a little winking face and a kiss!” He looked up and
addressed the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have our text message!” The
audience cheered. “Okay, here’s the message…” he paused and cleared his throat,
“Hey, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in such a long time. Why don’t
we meet up for a drink or two [question mark] [winking face] [kiss]” he
laughed, as did the audience. You began to laugh but at the same time you were
slowly bringing your hands up to your face to once again, cover up how red it
was. “What do you think, shall we send to all?!” He asked the audience. They
went wild. “It’s gone, sent!” Michael turned back around and walked to his seat
to continue your interview.
You spent the rest of the interview trying not to think
about the messages currently coming through to your phone. You had just about
removed the thought from your mind when Michael said “Right, well there’s just
one last piece of business we need to discuss before I let you go.” He paused
while the audience reacted. “Let’s read out some of the replies to the text we
sent from your phone shall we? Okay so the message we sent read ‘Hey, it feels
like we haven’t seen each other in such a long time. Why don’t we meet up for a
drink or two [question mark] [winking face] [kiss]’. Wow, okay so you’ve got a
fair few replies here!” The audience cheered.
“Better than getting none I suppose” you joked.
“Right, first up we have Chris Evans ladies and gentlemen! Wait, is this Captain
America Chris Evans or BBC Radio DJ Chris Evans?” he asked you.
“I don’t think I should answer that until you’ve read the reply,” you laughed
“no it’s Captain America Chris Evans” you smiled.
“Well Chris replied with ‘Dude, we aren’t even in the same country right now!
Count me in for next time though, we’ll all go out’ how nice is that! But what
does he mean by ‘all’?
“Yeah, he’s a good egg!” you smiled, “I’m guessing he just means getting the
old gang back together”
“Okay next up is… it looks like you’ve got the number of everyone who’s ever
been in a Marvel film here!” the two of you laughed as he continued to look for
the next reply. “I think we will go for this one next, James McAvoy.”
“Oh no!” you exclaimed as you brought your hands to your face, “This is going
to be a bad one isn’t it!”
“That depends what it means! It says ‘Are ye sure pal? You know what happened
last time!’ then there’s one of those laughing and crying faces. What happened
last time?” He questioned you.
You tried to contain the laughter, “nothing, nothing happened last time – at
least nothing that you’re all probably thinking anyway! All that happened was a
few of us had gone out and had far too much to drink, we all got a taxi and
when it was my stop James helped me out of the taxi and then after insisting I
was fine… I fell up the steps.” The audience and Michael laughed at your story,
you chuckled, after all it had been quite funny.
“Wonderful, we have time for just a few more! Who’s next?
‘Benny C’ is that who I think it is?” you nodded in response. “We have to read
this one! It says ‘Sorry not tonight, I’ve got my hands full. However you can
both count me in next time!’ At least he’s up for the next time, but what does
he mean by both?” he questioned you.
“Well a fair few people know I’m here
tonight, he probably just knows it was you” you smiled.
“Hmm,” Michael looked as you quizzically.
“He is Sherlock Holmes after all,” you added “all that detective knowledge has
to have rubbed off”
Michael agreed with you and moved on, “Okay, this is the last one now, let’s go
for the man himself, your co-star Mr Tom Hiddleston ladies and gentlemen!” The
audience cheered, some more excited than others as you heard several women let
out high pitched screams.
Your face turned the brightest shade of red possible; you could only hope that
he hadn’t said anything that would give the two of you away.
“Let’s see what he has to say shall we,” Michael cleared his throat, “’Darling,
we spent six months together making a film and I’ve seen you every night since
we got home. Shall I come and pick you up? x T’” Michael took a moment for
everyone to process the message he had just read. “Well, well, well! It looks
like you were hiding something after all. Anything you want to say?” He asked.
“No, not really” you responded, you could feel yourself getting warmer. You
were debating whether or not to address it, although Tom had practically
already made that decision for you and left you without a choice. In the end,
you decided it was best to talk. “When you shoot a romantic film you spend a
lot of time with your co-star and about sixty percent of that time you’re in
quite an intimate position.” The redness was starting to disappear from your
face, replaced only by a smile that suggested you were happily in love.
“Well ladies and gentlemen, it looks like the show is ending
on a lovely note! Thank you to all of tonight’s guests and I’ll see you next
Was Viktor Annoyed at Yuuri? (Or why Viktor Nikiforov was such a bully in Ep. 2 and 3)
You know how we can’t seem to read Viktor’s character in the early episodes? Is he on Yuuri’s side? Or is he really a bad guy?
I think what lent to the confusion is that there were circumstances that we did not know at the time. Now though, we know that Viktor came to Japan by Yuuri’s invitation, which Yuuri conveniently forgot, leaving Viktor in the cold – confused, alone and friendless, surrounded by strangers in mother-effing Japan.
I imagine that between meeting at the hot springs and Viktor falling asleep after eating, he had tried engaging Yuuri in conversation, maybe tried getting that old spark between them back. Yuuri, though, sober and thinking that that was their first “real” meeting, probably just stuttered and ran off and just generally acted evasive and odd.
…but Yuuri Katsuki just keeps going
What does he mean what? What is even happening??
Eventually, Viktor’s fuse just sort of shorts and before he could stop himself, he is asking Yuuri about his victory-katsudon and asking why he would eat it when
Lmao, the little shit.
If we go thinking Viktor is somewhat annoyed at Yuuri’s rather cold welcome, this actually leaves us with this wonderful thought: a pissed of Viktor Nikiforov is still adorably entertaining.
Look at this dork. He is caustic,
and is just downright merciless.
Given all that though, he also drowns his sorrows alone and gets himself shit-faced when it all becomes too much.
Viktor Nikiforov is basically your standard passive-aggressive girlfriend with a side of drunk Russian.
I can just imagine Viktor drunk-slurring in Russian at the locals of Hasetsu, lamenting about their insensitive golden boy who swoops in on unsuspecting world champions, makes them fall for them, invites them to Japan and then proceeds to act like nothing happened. Can you imagine the nerve of the guy? To hell with Yuuri Katsuki! He will pay for this. Viktor will choreograph the most difficult short program in history and make him skate it!
Good thing probably no one in Hasetsu can understand Russian.
I think this was also partly why he agreed to Yuri P’s demand to come back to Russia if he wins Hot Springs on Ice. Even if Viktor later seemed to regret it (which I talked about in
this meta), I think at that moment, Viktor thought that it didn’t matter much whether he stays or goes. Yuuri Katsuki was not what Viktor expected, and he no longer knows where he stands with the other boy.
Besides, Yuuri is confusing af okay. Really? Eros is katsudon? The program rings no other bells whatsoever?
Like bruh, you’re not even high??
One of my favorites is when Yuuri went like this
and it is so reminiscent of that adorable thing kids do when they want their favored person (like a parent or a teacher) to be proud of them (“so please watch me do this amazing thing okay!”). It is a sign of affection from Yuuri to Viktor, but just look at it from Viktor’s point of view. You seduce me, forget about me, and now you want my attention again – so many mixed signals, Yuuri!
Lmao, look at Viktor’s wtf face:
It’s like he doesn’t know what the hell is going on anymore and his soul just died a little.
One has to hand it to Viktor, though: he is not the kind of person who would sabotage a fellow skater by doing something awful at the start of their program. He reins himself in and somehow finds it in himself to encourage Yuuri.
Viktor also seemed to calm down at the end. He… forgives Yuuri? Here, I think – after seeing Yuuri figure out Eros.
Did he catch a glimpse of the skater he knew, or perhaps the boy he danced with at the banquet? Or did he see something else in Yuuri, nearer to that boy in that video who seemed to understand “Stay Close to Me”?
I think eventually Viktor decided to just become Yuuri’s coach for real because he is talented and worth it; whatever is between them can be settled on a later date, when he knows Yuuri more.
Really, it was a journey becoming Yuuri Katsuki’s coach - literally (because wow, how many hours is it from St. Petersburg to Hasetsu) and figuratively (because emotional and psychological stress is a thing, and this is why you don’t drop your day job because you met a cute boy at a party).
Hi Addy! I wanted to ask who are your favourite fandom writers and what do you like specifically about their writing style or their fics :)
alright! here are a few of my favorites (definitely not all of my favorites, there are too many for me to list all of them ahaha).
TheCellarDoor (@donotdialnine) - Okay aha i feel like I never shut about it, but I just really think Patri does pining and tension THE BEST. I always feel like I’m dying in the middle of the fic. ahaha particularly with Faking itand also Autumn At My Window.I particularly love how Harry and Louis are always so warmly written, also.
missandrogyny (@paynner) - I part of why I love reading missandrogyny fics because they have a lighthearted sensibility. @100percentsassy (another of my super favorite authors, lol) is always talking about how great it is when fanfics capture this sort of banter-y romcom quality, and I think paynner really does that so well!!! Everythings always entertaining and genuinely funny! i really loved to kill the mess we’ve made and I am very excited to read the cuddling fic this afternoon!!
RealName (@realname91) - I am just always super impressed by how emotionally believable things are in RealName fics. And emotionally complex, too! Like, people are screwing up and hurting each other sometimes, but it’s understandable as to why. My favorite of theirs is Big, Bright World, but I’m always trying to get everyone to readCold, as well. I mean the pining and the angst!!!! I went on a annie lennox listening tear after I read it.
juliusschmidt (@juliusschmidt) - I’m not sure how to describe this exactly, but I love it how Alex writes stuff that like, accurately reflects the world and all the problems in it. Like, realistically sexist teenage boy conversations or just subtle or not so subtle homophobia coming from character’s parents and friends. Also, I think Alex is very funny. I know I just recced her advent fic a little while ago, but also definitely readlittle wings on my shoes right away, if you have not!!
stylinsoncity (@alienproof) - I feel Chelsie always has like 3500 ideas that she’s working on and she tries so many different things and it’s amazing. I really love the Wonderlandsbecause there is so much emotion in it, i love the way Harry’s relationship with his daughter is handled. so good!!
okay, that’s it for now! Sorry if I repeated myself a ton ahaha i just love emotions, i guess!
1920’s killjoy AU, inspired by a post by @metallicdeceiver (with just a little bit of information on each person)
Gerard A. Way, known as Party Poison: The leader of the ex-mafia group the Killjoys, he’s one of the most feared leaders, but also considered something of a joke among the higher-ups. Some whisper that his scarlet hair is dyed with the blood of the ones who’ve crossed him; anyone who really gets to know him, however, knows that it’s just red food dye. Gerard’s not a very good shot, but he’s the quickest draw. He got his “Killjoy name” after one particularly infamous party, where he slipped cyanide into one of his own bootlegged drinks, gave it to one of his stronger rivals as a show of peace, and promptly poisoned him.
Frank A. Iero, known as Fun Ghoul: The hot-head of the Killjoys, it seems he has a gun or switchblade on him at all times. He’s constantly teased for his height (although there have been others shorter than him), but he makes up for it in the amount of fights he gets himself into. Frank, along with Ray, plan all of their so-called “missions”, and both of their cunning have made for quite a reputation. He devised his Killjoy name after the Italian word “fanculo”, meaning fuck you - it’s caused a riot once or twice, and gotten them into trouble more than a few times.
Michael “Mikey” J. Way, known as the Kobra Kid: Silent, underestimated, and put down as just the “leader’s baby brother” a lot of the time, he might be the most dangerous one out of all the Killjoys. He’s extremely proficient with a tommy gun, and isn’t too bad with a knife, either. However, he prefers hand-to-hand combat, and is much more likely to punch your lights out rather than stab you in the gut. Many are surprised by the fact that he’s the best negotiator, but he’s the one with the best communicative head on his shoulders; he’s talked the Killjoys out of numerous dangerous situations. There are multiple sources on why he came to be known as the Kobra Kid, but the most prevalent rumor is that he once set a family of cobras onto one of the more devious rivals of theirs.
Raymond “Ray” Toro, known as Jet Star: The one behind each and every action the Killjoys take. He’s Gerard’s right-hand man, constantly counselling and whispering suggestions into his ear. He’s also influential, being able to get them into almost every speakeasy in the area and then some. He’s known by many names: Strongman Toro, Silvertongue, The Real McCoy, but most know him as Jet Star. Much like Mikey, there are many sources on why this name has become the most famous, ranging from “He stepped foot on the moon, I swear to ya!” to “He’s the quickest draw in the city, even faster than ol’ Party Poison! He’s faster than any shooting star out there!”
No one really knows how they got possession of the girl only known as Grace - if anyone asks, they just shrug and say “Don’t remember how we got her either, to be honest with you.” She’s quite possibly more infamous than any of the other Killjoys; many call her the Killjoy’s Baby, as well as Little Bird, Giggle Girl, etc. A lot of the time they leave her alone, knowing that she’s hardier than she looks, and she knows that if she needs anything she just needs to get Dr. D, the owner of one of the nicest speakeasies around.
You both had been out on a date when you got into a fight and you had said some nasty things but so had he. Not to mention, you had a good reason to be angry.
You got out of the car before it even fully stopped and and slammed the door shut, making Jimin grip the steering wheel tightly, in efforts to control his anger. He couldn’t though. He stepped out of the car as well and ran after you and closes the door behind him once he enters his apartment.
“What is your problem?!” He yelled at you, clearly angry with the way you were behaving. You turned around sharply, with an incredulous look in your eyes.
“What is my problem? Are you seriously fucking asking me that, Jimin? We were out on a date after god knows how many months and you got your ‘rumoured’ girlfriend along?! What the fuck is wrong with me?! No, Park Jimin, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled back.
Jimin took a step closer to you, eyes red due to his efforts to keep his anger from taking a form which he might regret. “What the fuck, y/n? You know there’s nothing going on between us! She wasn’t feeling too good, and she wanted me to be there for her. You already know how hard things are for her right now, her career’s taken a hit after the news of the scandal broke out. She is not feeling okay and-”
“What about me?” You asked him with pure disbelief written on your face. “Did you think about how I felt when my man was being linked to some other woman? Or is she the only person you’re concerned about?”
Jimin let out a frustrated sigh, he was dangerously close to losing his temper. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous y/n. What you’re going through is completely different from what she is going through. You don’t know shit about our business, you wouldn’t understand. How can you be such an insensitive….bitch? You just walked out of the restaurant while we were having dinner. She must be feeling so awkward. Is this the way you should fucking behave?”
The only thing you could see was red. “Yeah? what about how I’m feeling? You don’t give a shit how I’m feeling, do you? All you’re concerned about is her.” You let out an angry scoff. “Well, you listen to me you asshole. Do whatever the fuck you want with her. You’ve clearly shown me who you care about. Go. Get out. Go to her and ease her awkwardness. Just let me tell you one thing though, whatever little plan is in her mind, it’s clear to me. Crystal clear. I’m not being fooled.”
Jimin frowned in anger and confusion. “What plan…what do you mean?”
“If she was that concerned about getting her career back up, she would be avoiding you at all costs right now, Jimin! Why would she accompany you to a public place? If you ask me, she planned this and she wants this rumour to be perceived as tru-”
You head snapped to your left as you stood there in shock from the impact of his slap. You didn’t bother to stop the tears. You just turned back to look at him with wide eyes.
Jimin stood there shocked looking at his hands, his breathing heavy and shaky, eyes shining because of unshed tears and his hands shaking. He finally turned to look up at you and let out a broken cry as his hands reached out to soothe you but froze as soon as he saw you flinch.
“No, no..” He stepped forward and fell down to his knees.”I-I didn’t mean to do that, y/n..I…I love you.” He said through his cries.
“Step away from me Jimin.” You finally brought your hand down from your cheek, you face blank. “We’re done.”
“NO!” Jimin was suddenly on his feet, your hands in his own, sobbing uncontrollably at the thought of what was going to happen. “No, please, y/n d-don’t leave, okay? Honey, I love you, I SWEAR! I am so sorry, p-please don’t go, hm? Please-” More cries “Don’t leave me, please y/n I swear I won’t ever, ever meet her again. I’ll do everything you say, just don’t leave me. Oh god y/n please..” He fell to his knees, your hands still in his own, looking at you with eyes drowned in tears.
You looked at the man you loved, begging you on his knees to stay and even if your sub-conscious mind was screaming at you to take him back, you couldn’t. You knew your soul wouldn’t forgive you, if you forgave him and let yourself be okay with what he had done. He had just…hit you.
You yanked your hands back and he let out another cry. Without turning back you picked up your purse and walked out of his apartment, leaving behind a sobbing mess of a Jimin crying out for you.
Then and maybe forever.
YAAAAAAAAAAS I’m such an angst-whore I luuuurve it.Tell me how you liked it babies.
*Hitting someone is not acceptable at all. Please don’t ever give this pain to someone. Treasure your partner and if you can’t, then leave them. Don’t ever, ever trap them in an abusive relationship. Stay blessed my babies. 🤘🏻