mini iggy

anonymous asked:

What do all of the other colonies think of mini iggy, do they come visit or is he hiding

Iggy:   “They think its cute, blah blah blah, all that stuff. No visits! I’m not in hiding anymore, I just tell them not to visit…. But sometimes they do visit just to spite me!”

America:   “then he hides”

Iggy:   *heavy sigh* 

youtube

Iggy Azalea - Work (behind the scenes) Ft. Mini Iggy

superman (dumb fucking magnets)

It’s been months since I’ve written for these two shit heads I love so much, and this happened.  It’s my entry back into actually writing.  Hope you semi-enjoy it. :)

Read it on AO3.

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“What’s eatin’ you, huh?”

Ian looks up from staring into his glass of water to acknowledge a concerned Fiona.  There’s four pills lined up behind the glass.  He told himself maybe if he obscured them, they would somehow seem like less of a hassle, but the water only magnifies them, makes them bigger than life. He’s not surprised Fiona wears a worried crease between her brows.  He was sitting at the kitchen table when she left for the supermarket an hour ago, looking at the same glass of water, the same pills – the same illness.  He still can’t take them, even after crying himself to. He blinks, his eyes red-rimmed and spent.

He clears his throat. “I broke up with Mickey earlier today,” he finally responds.

“What?” she answers shocked. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“That’s cuz I was too busy letting him get shot at.  Letting him get away.”

Fiona lowers herself slowly into the chair across from Ian, runs her hands through her wavy hair. “Jesus, are you ok?  What happened?”

“I happened,” Ian responds as he stares back down into his glass.  “And what is okay for me anymore?  I decided I don’t wanna take the meds.  I can’t Fi.  And because I can’t take the meds I told myself I can’t be with Mickey.”  He pushes the glass of water to the side, exposing the pills.  They’re small and unassuming again.  “But when I went upstairs to my empty bed, I realized what I did.  I told myself that maybe I could take them, work on making things right.”

“Taking your meds is the right thing Ian,” Fiona responds wearing her guardian hat, “but if you take them, take them for you.”

Ian looks up slowly until his eyes are level with his sister’s.  He wants to laugh in her face.  Just a few days ago, her words made him seem like he had to, and not for himself but for their own peace of mind.  His irises seem to shatter as a sadness breaks the glimmer in his gaze. “Thing is, I still don’t want to,” he says coolly, “so I’m thinking maybe I made the right choice after all.”

Fiona looks away, focuses her eyes on something other than her brother.  For such a tall kid, he seems wilted and small.  “Maybe,” she says lowly as she stands, “but I wonder how long you two will actually be able to stay away from each other.”  She looks back at Ian and offers him a small smile before quietly unpacking the groceries from their bags.

Ian remains at the kitchen table and moves his glass of water back in front of the pills.  He still doesn’t take them.  

He thinks of Mickey lying somewhere in the street, broken-hearted and cold.  

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