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#I originally planned a 4 minute piece
flyingfluse · 6 months
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AZIRAPHALE SONG
Did anyone ask me to write a song about Aziraphale? Nope. Did I feel the undying need to spend every free second of the last two months doing it anyway, loosing my sanity in the process? Absolutely. So here are the lyrics for Aziraphale Alone, a 8-9 minute classical music/musical inspired soliloquy of our favorite angel, diving into his brilliant and confused brain after the season 2 finale. Enjoy!
(note: I plan on posting a version that is less explicitly romantic, especially without a certain section in this song, for people who view their love as ace and don’t feel comfortable reading their ship in this light)
Aziraphale Alone
Heaven. Aziraphale is alone, lonely, exhausted. And a bit annoyed.
Endless white, so blank, so bright.
This place is unbearably dull.
No colours, no smells, no ringing bell
As the door opens to the shop of Mr. Fell.
No vintage wine, no books, no Sondheim!
No trace of humour or wits.
No Sundays in Parks, no clever remarks
And no dinners at the Ritz.
Aziraphale fondly remembers his time on earth with a certain someone.
At night my heart's turned into rivers of ink,
When there was magic in the air.
And in the blink of an eye I would sink
Into the depths of a warm yellow glare
Building a home, fragile yet quaint
With a good fortune to share
A place with the pleasure of no self-restraint
Where stars are made in the most fervid of flares.
Our timeless dance is enchanting the shop
No miracle could compare.
(reluctant) Then the music stopped. The curtain dropped.
(woeful) And no nightingale sang in Berkeley -.
(Composing himself) You and I have spent millennia working on opposite sites.
And truly I as a dutiful angel was meant to resent and despise
The foul fiend demon Crowley supposedly one of the worst of his kind,
But the meanest, most hurtful deed you ever did was uttering those lines.
Music picks ups speed. Choir joins in as well as the full orchestra.
(getting more and more irritated) How could you dare to simply declare
the absence of our song?
When I was right there, one half of the pair,
of the us you claimed you long to be!
But apparently so
there's so much I don't know!
As if I hadn't learnt a thing
seeing how they burnt your wings,
casting you down below!
I may seem naive, but there's one thing I now understand
That we can't achieve peace, when our castle is made of sand.
Our lovely reprieve has finally come to an end!
For there will be another storm we can't take cover from.
We must act now there's no time for laments!
And there was a solution how we could reduce any
risk of losing what matters most,
So then how could you choose to leave me and refuse
the chance we could have used to finally depose
The faulty regime, heaven's design
is flawed, I know, I am not blind!
That's why we need to find a way to make it right
For heaven's the root of truth, goodness in light.
Still certainly better than the other side!
There may be exemptions to the rule,
But hell is still callous cold and cruel
With torment and torture as daily routines.
Do you think I haven't seen
How you have suffered all these years?
How you have struggled to fight the fear,
That's lingering in your eyes, when you try to hide
your kindness behind a shady guise.
You say you're not nice, a demon who's wily
Wicked, vicious, who always lies.
You can fool everyone and yourself,
But I know your goodness far too well.
Your heart and decency break quietly, secretly
straight through the ceiling of what is allowed!
You act when something‘s wrong, knowing you could be gone
right when the graveyard yawns and hell breathes out.
(Softly) Can you blame me for wanting to see
You smile like you did back then,
When stars filled your eyes with wonder and glee.
I just want you to be that happy again.
You‘ve grown so gloomy, weary and tired.
So I tried to bring you the sun,
(hurt) But you‘ve clarified that‘s not what you desire.
I don‘t even know why I’m stunned,
I guess I was the silly one.
He remembers what followed after their argument.
But then you pulled me in, caught me by surprise,
Warning sirens were howling above.
But shock and confusion would quickly subside.
One glorious moment it all wore off.
One ardent touch and the world fell away
And with it the looming and intricate veil
Of pretence, apprehension, prejudice and pride,
I get lost in indulgence that we’ve been denied.
My hands wander up as my thoughts wander down.
The taste of your tempting lips lets me drown
Deep in your divine, deserving embrace,
Your sweet velvet wine, I could drink it for days.
A ravenous craving I’ve tried to control
To selfishly savour your body and soul.
The music crescendos, getting faster and faster.
Oh how I wish we could just run
Away and paint our own shade of grey.
A fervent mix of blue and red,
Two parts of a painting that finally connect.
You take the wheel, full speed ahead,
Home, to a place where we will forget
The watchful eyes and silent threats
and at last-
Stop!
You‘re going too fast.
(Broken)
Endless white, it shines so brightly through the open blinds.
I shakily stand on this earth we were send to and
can't understand just what I should do.
These quarrelsome queries that I've grown so wary of
haunting my mind like ghosts in a tomb.
How to follow my heart with the song of the lark
bringing back bitter sweetness I‘ve tried to discard?
I just try to be good.
I need to be good.
Why is that so incredibly hard?
And maybe I’m where the problem lies, a
pathetic excuse for an angel for sure,
Destined to fail, disloyal, a liar,
Too soft, too scared and too insecure.
(Overcome with love) But you‘ve made a change, you helped me see
That I am worth the effort of
Risking paperwork to save me from quandaries,
That me being there is more than enough.
You‘re so much kinder than everyone else,
So how come that you are the one who fell?
Even though I have been also defying them,
so terrified of losing her love.
Can’t tell, what’s right or wrong, now that you're truly gone,
how can I move along in the above?
Still, my faith in god stand, I know she’s got a plan
So ineffable even to those who attempt
To end life here on earth, erase progress and mirth
It just can’t be true that all this was meant to be!
(He stops. Shocked. Scared.)
(slowly) Asking questions that’s how it starts,
First the fall, then falling apart.
Can it be that it’s hell I am running towards?
But maybe just maybe her divine intent
has always been for me to thwart!
(With growing conviction) God can’t be where the problem lies,
But there’s a blaze scorching the management board.
It’s said that you must fight fire with fire,
And I was the one given the flaming sword!
I can’t just turn my back and run,
I’ll get that book, take out my gun,
Won’t shoot past the ear, but aim for the head,
a moral argument they won’t forget!
I will make a change. I will make them see
We don’t need more floods but simply a dove!
Don’t they know heaven’s supposed to be
A place of kindness and love?
And you, my dear, left me no choice
But to walk this path alone
Like water off ducks, this picture of us,
Slid right through my fingers, turning to dust.
I left my home, lost all I loved
Though one thing I couldn‘t stand
Even if nothing lasts forever
I cannot lose my best friend!
You’ve rescued me so many times,
all part of our little dance.
And now that the music has picked up its pace
it’s my turn to take a stance!
I get it now! You won‘t come back,
but I won’t wait till they attack!
Got some things to suggest,
This time I won‘t stand still!
I’m a guardian angel and protect this world I will!
(Quieter, gentler, but with equal resolve)
Protect my world, I will.
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trupowieszcz-moved · 3 months
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MUSIC COMMISSIONS!
This is your chance to get something original!! I can make a theme for your OC, or for a specific scene you have planned for your rpg campaign, or maybe you're doing a video game or a film project and need some soundtrack for it - in any case, please consider commissioning me!
BASE PRICES:
- making a vocaloid* say something funny – $5
- simple arranged leitmotif – $15
- full theme, up to 4 instruments, 2 minutes max – $40
- more complex projects (longer with more motives/instruments/tracks) – $50+
*Gumi or Miku
You will need to tell me:
What the music is for
What vibe do you want it to have
What style it should be in (so for example provide other music pieces that you feel would fit)
Whether you have a deadline for it - short deadlines might cost more!
Prices may be adjusted based on the specifics of the commission or if you're Polish like me (in which case i don't have to account for currency conversion rates etc)
Payment only through Ko-Fi (Stripe, not PayPal - I can also accept a regular bank transfer if all else fails, but I don't use PayPal, sorry) or BLIK
youtube
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val-cansalute · 3 months
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PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch. 5
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ch. 1
ch. 2
ch. 3
ch. 4
ch. 6
a/n: 😪 banners by cafekitsune and saradika-graphics
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Snow still lays thick upon the soil once you’re gone. Along its boundless surface, specks of silver glisten, basking in the gentle glow of the moon, smothering the town’s bustle.
“You sure?”
The wind is cruel, lashing auburn locks erratically about Ellie’s face, numbed by the frigidity. In spite of the burning cold overtaking her limbs, her grip on the straps of the saddle tightens and her eye contact with Tommy turns ever so slightly hostile,
"Tommy, it’s been less than a day. She can’t be far. You comin’ or not? ‘Cause I’m doing this with or without you.”
He looks back at her wordlessly with a furrow in his brow, piercing through the tense silence laced with the distant bustle of Jackson,
“Alright… Let’s set off quick then.”
“Okay.”
Something compels her to silence, an impulse to keep her lips sealed over restless secrets. Maybe she knows that going after you is illogical, that it was a choice you made on your own. But she can’t bring herself to indulge in those realisations – all she knows is that she has to find you; there is no hesitation. Thankfully, the urgency in her tone was explanation enough for Tommy.
With a rushed onset, they split up to cover more ground, venturing onwards into the overrun territory encompassing Jackson with eyes vigilant, searching for signs of you, but seconds turn to minutes, and minutes turn to hours of vacillating between trot and gallop, losing sense of direction and fragments of determination to the exhaustion that mutinies her mind.
Thank god the hoofprints come into view when they do - as if by magic or a blessing, the impressed snow shows itself clear as day, juxtaposing the sea of white bordering it,  darkened by dirt and grime. Ellie perks up with desperate intrigue so she pulls the reins and crouches down beside them, muttering to herself,
“Huh, what do we have here?”
And then her heartbeat quickens in anticipation of relief,
“She's close.”
Verily, she follows, the tracks guiding her further into the dense vegetation with senses working overtime to accommodate the fact that it is winter and hordes are rampant. She fucking prays you didn’t run into one, but the forest is deafeningly silent, seeming to hold its breath tonight.
She’s fast on your track; in this moment, the path is hope, a lifeline steering her along.  Every now and then, a rustle of leaves, or the distant echoes of infected throw her mind into disarray, but she scans the area rapidly, shaky grip tightening on her firearm, before pushing on.
Just under an hour, the prints become faded and scattered, and the apprehension makes her stomach twist before she lifts her head to greet the destination - a desolate clearing.
“Fuck me.”
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Dim moonlight hangs over Ellie and Tommy’s exhausted figures. The night has been relentless. The trail resulted in nothing more than wasted time and the discovery of a empty clearing, devoid of any sign of you.
Frustration and fatigue etched on her face and lingering in the air around her, Ellie kicks at a loose stone on the ground like a little kid, the full regret of having set off hurriedly with no real plan or navigation overcoming her. They’ve gotten nowhere.
In a see-through attempt at remaining pragmatic, Tommy pats her shoulder and states with a tone of reassurance, though it’s betrayed by the wearied rasp in his voice,
"We'll figure it out, Ellie. We just need to rest for a bit and rethink our strategy. She couldn't have gotten far."
But Ellie's resolve is fixed and her jaw is set in determination. It’s too late to turn back now, she knows that.
"I can't rest, Tommy. Every minute wasted is another minute she's further."
He sighs heavily with complete sincerity, running a hand through his unkempt hair.
"Ellie, she’s probably asleep right now, or some shit. And pushing yourself like this won't help anyone."
Their intermingling voices rise, threaded with increasing aggression until the tension has thickened beyond salvaging, and the rift between their convictions seems insurmountable in the darkness of the night.
Finally, unable to find common ground, Ellie announces,
"I'm not waiting. I'm going to keep searching. You wanna go back? Fine."
And, without waiting for a response, she takes off, leaving her horse and Tommy, who mutters quiet cusses into the heavy stillness of the night. She moves with purpose, the flashlight attached to her backpack tearing through the darkness.
She refuses to let the ache in her feet claim her; every step she takes echoes the silent plea for you to be found. Even as the hours wear on, Ellie's determination refuses to wane in spite of the fatigue gnawing at her bones. She can’t let herself think, she can’t let herself dwell, she has to keep searching, even if she can’t tell herself why.
However, the moon, as always, gives surrender to the encroaching dawn. Ellie's flickering hope of finding you dims as her steps grow heavier and her eyes wearier, and the first light of sunrise bleeds into the sky from the horizon.
Eventually, shattered and running on sheer god-like willpower, Ellie stumbles upon a vantage point, and stands over the landscape, large enough to swallow her whole millions of times over, like she’s the last person on Earth, staring into the face of impending destruction.
But it’s just dawn, and the overcast warm glow showers upon her as the realization that she has been searching through the night hits her. The screeching thought of you inevitably having gotten hurt plagues her mind. Deep breath, in and out, she lets the weight of it all settle upon her weakened shoulders, yet there’s still no time for rest.
The search is far from over.
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You strain your neck to squint up at the skeletal structure that has born the brutality of the post-apocalyptic world, barely making out the details past the overgrown foliage seeping out of its broken windows and destroyed walls.
You enter with caution and heightened senses, searching for any signs of danger. The creaking floorboards beneath your feet shatter the palpable silence in the damp air.
Shifting through the shadows, your senses remain sharp and attuned to the slightest noise, scanning the objects illuminated by the dim light of dawn filtering through the cracks in the abandoned building. Shadows loom outstretched along the corridors.
In a shadowy corner, a man is crouched over a bag, and you watch him with a racing heart before you emerge, your silhouette a silent spectre against the dilapidated walls.
Your eyes meet for a fleeting moment before you both jump into action instinctively, but you swiftly disarm him. The struggle is brief but intense, and he is overpowered, because, if there’s one thing fear has taught you, it’s that each movement has to be calculated and purposeful.
And when he’s on his knees, trying to plead for mercy, when he’s scraping pathetically at the scruples of humanity left in your soul, you remain resolute - just don’t think. Your grip is firm as you subdue him.
A few blows leave him incapacitated, and you leave it at that because you have never been able to succumb to gratuitous violence. He lets out a muffled groan with his cheek pressed against the cold stone floor.
Swiftly, you bind is wrists and ankles taut, ensuring he can’t pose a threat before confiscating his meagre supplies and rifling through them. Food, water, anything that could sustain you on the journey ahead, you take, and then you drop his bag my his side and arise.
You turn to leave, but you glance back at the man over your shoulder, meeting his eyes with a solemn expression. You haven’t done this in a while, not since you arrived at Jackson, and your penchant for showing no mercy has been buffed down.
There’s so much you have to beg your mind to steer itself away from, beg it to not to linger on the helplessness in his eyes as he looks back at you, or how you would’ve slit his throat without a doubt when it was just you and Soren.
With the stolen supplies secured, you walk through the entrance. You have to convince yourself of one last thing.
Mercy takes on different forms.
Out into the muted light of dawn, the air is brisk, and the horizon enlightening drags the worry of not making it out of the treacherous night you endured off your shoulders. A new day. A momentary respite washes over you; you’re only a little scathed.
With the first light of dawn illuminating your path,
“Only an hour or two away …”
It is a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but it’s enough for someone with your past.
Mounting her horse, the familiar weight of the saddle grounds you as you set off once more into the unknown. The rhythmic, muffled thump of hooves against the snow-blanketed floor, and the shadow of the horse and rider stretched long over the ruins, a lone traveller navigating the remnants of a world.
You ride on, your mind numb to the thought of returning to Soren. Back to the old house, to the doorstep where your heart lies dormant.
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Crestfallen, the fruitless landscape stands before Ellie, as if to mock her hunched over figure, bathed in the warm hues of the noontime sun. She has been traversing since the wee hours of the morning after stopping momentarily to map out a journey in her relentless pursuit of you, trying to stay determined, but the urgency that keeps her moving forward is dulled by the incessant pangs of hunger and the desperate struggle to keep her eyes open. Doubt creeps in as the vast emptiness erodes her resolution.
Just as thoughts of turning back infiltrate her sleep-deprived mind, a faint sound carries along a whistling gust of wind, drawing her fading attention. Pained noises, barely audible, leave her instantly alert, and Ellie follows the source of the sound with a subtle limp in her step. Though her senses are sharpened by the urgency of the situation, everything still seems blurrier and muffled.
Guided by the haunting echoes, she carefully weaves her way through the silent surroundings, every step weighted with anticipation, into a derelict building.
She approaches cautiously, entering a room where the sound is amplified and she comes face to face with the source: a man, bound and gagged, his eyes shut as he lies, weakened by his restraints. Without hesitation, Ellie kneels beside him, pistol pressed to his pained temple, her gaze unwavering,
“Who did this to you?" she demands, her voice edged with a fierce determination. His eyes fly open, looking up at her fearfully.
“Shit! Some fuckin’ girl – I don’t know!”
“… When did she leave?”
“Like ten minutes ago! I haven’t got shit, she took everything! I’m begging you, please untie me!”
She stands, contemplating it for a moment, before she kicks him over so that he can contort his body into a sitting position, eliciting a sharp groan. He wasn’t tied up beyond hope of managing to undo the knots, you made sure of it,
“You can figure that out on your own, I got shit to do.”
With a sense of exhilaration, Ellie jogs out and circles to the back of the building, her eyes scanning the snow-covered ground for any sign of movement where she notices a fresh set of foot and hoofprints, meeting at a point along the line where they become one trail of hoofprints, a delicate dance littering the frozen canvas.
Hope surges within Ellie as, once again, she follows the tracks. She has to move fast; you have a horse and she has only her feet. The air is tense with anticipation, but she somehow manages to power through the all-consuming exhaustion and hunger with the promise of getting closer to the elusive figure she seeks.
The sun dips lower on the horizon; the bitter cold forgotten in the warmth of purpose.
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Nothing is left of your house but the gnarled bones of the home it once was. The memories of all you left behind seep through the cracked walls – the good and the bad, a silent witness to the passage of time.  You hold your breath captive in your tightened chest and push open the door, its rusty hinges protesting your return with a shrill creak.
The air is thick with dust dancing in the slivers of dim light that manage to pierce through boarded windows. Everything surrounding you, once thriving and familiar, is now reduced to mere echoes, whispers. Your fingers gently trace the life left in the fray, your gaze sweeping over the remnants of all you lost to the destruction. There’s nothing but blood left to salvage, to hold onto.
You lay in the centre of what used to be your bedroom, save for the actual bed, beside the shadow of the place where Soren used to lie, but there is no reprieve. You can’t look at it, your gaze pointed to the damp-stained ceiling, rust-coloured organic forms scattered across it.
If there’s one thing you can trust to remain a constant in your life, it’s that memories flood your mind no matter when or where you are, unbidden and unwelcome. Here, you can let them play out wholly, succumb to the deserved guilt that you cannot let yourself escape.
Trace the mustard outline of the leakages in the wallpapered walls with the movement of your weary pupils, stop trying to battle the thoughts as they influx from the depths. Turn your head to look at the ruined wall – no matter how hard you scrubbed, droplets of what once was his blood, and his blood only, taken over by that cruel evil, seeped through and infected it just as the clicker infected him. They still burn as hot and bright as they did that night, staring back at you.
You had been splayed out on the floor, over tattered blankets, similar to now, waiting for Soren, who had heard a noise beyond the gate. The worry was becoming an annoyance, so you got up and ran out into the night to find him, further out than you usually would on your own.
You should’ve stayed. Never should’ve wandered. It was your fault he had to fight off that clicker, the scar etched into his back for all eternity, evidence of your fatal error. Even though you made it home with adrenaline pumping through your veins, the nagging sting eventually became an undeniable ache, and from that point, Soren was already dead.
He begged and begged, eyes glassed over for the first time since your mother died, but your pathetic selfishness left him shrinking beside the new force overcoming his body, till he became what he prayed he would never become.
Then, and only then, did you do it. Coward that you are, bashing his obliterated skull over and over in the haze, blood and brains sent adrift, consuming all the surfaces they landed on, your mind, body, and soul, for the rest of your life, and anything that lies beyond.
There’s a violent shift and you jolt back to the surface, gasping for air like you were drowning with sharp, shallow, greedy breaths.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Ellie's urgent voice cuts through the remnants of the memory.
"I got you," she whispers, a breathless relief in her voice. You, disoriented and still caught in an intersection between past and present, struggle to hold back the already fallen tears and even in spite of the glaring truth that you came here wilfully, the sight of her brings sweet relief.
“Ellie-”
“Shimmer.”
“Huh?”
“The horse’s name is Shimmer.”
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maya1525 · 15 days
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SUCK ~ & ~ F*CK 😋🍾
✩ Featuring Yuji Itadori / Ryomen Sukuna ✩
18+MDNI
Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Yuji Itadori / Ryomen Sukuna
WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving oral, unprotected vaginal sex, cream pie, sex in front of others, language, rough sex
Word count✩࿐4k
Summary✩࿐This is based on my original post: SUCK ~ GUESS ~ F*CK. But you know ahead of time whose dick is in your slutty mouth. Itadori drew 4 of Hearts♥️
A/N✩࿐I like this combination; Itadori as a sweet-simp-gentleman 🥹compared to Sukuna as a possessive and sex hungry monster. I felt like it’d be hot having Sukuna show you off on his dick, clearly demonstrating his prowess. 😈😮‍💨 When Sukuna speaks in Itadori’s mind his words are in red. Feedback is highly appreciated, I love reading your comments! 😙💖
“The game is quite simple.” Gojo stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “You’re going to be blindfolded and will have to guess which man's dick is in your mouth. If you guess incorrectly, the man gets to choose which position to fuck you in. If you guess correctly, then you get to choose the position. To keep things interesting, you’ll suck dick for three minutes and get fucked for seven.”
You nodded your understanding as you sat on the large and cushy futon in Gojo’s apartment. He had planned on fucking you alone tonight, but your boyfriends wanted in on the action, plus they thought it would be a good idea to invite two of their friends, Mechamaru and Noritoshi.
You felt your cheeks warm up with excitement, never in your life, you’ve felt so deeply desired before. Everyone’s eyes were on you, especially because you wore a revealing teddy one-piece. Satoru bought it for you, and it complimented your figure perfectly. He even put a stunning custom collar on you, with a diamond-covered ‘S’ on it.
You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed to be this exposed in front of Noritoshi and Mechamaru. You were familiar with both of these men, but you were still getting used to human Mechamaru. Muta was on the leaner side compared to your boyfriends, he had sharp features and a large and noticeable scar on his upper cheek. While Kamo on the other hand always seemed like a strong and serious leader among his comrades. The thought that he yearned for you just as much as your boyfriends made you wonder what he would be like when he fucked you. The thought made you anticipate his turn.
While you thought about those two men, your eyes were subconsciously drawn to both of them. Noritoshi sat on the far side of the sectional, his heated gaze stared you down hungrily. Beside him sat your boyfriend Megumi with a starved look in his midnight blue eyes. Next sat Itadori, he eyed you with such desperation, that it looked as if he was going to jump off the couch any second to get to you. Next to him sat Satoru smugly, his eyes gleamed playfully in your direction. Beside him was Muta, he eyed shyly with a faint blush on his face. To his left sat Yuuta and Inumaki, Toge was leaning into the couch comfortably, his violet-colored eyes sparkling over your stunning body with admiration and Yuuta had a similar look of awe on his face.
“Ok Y/n, I’m going to put this on you if you’re ready,” Satoru murmured, his gorgeous blue eyes gleaming down at you, while he wrapped his black blindfold around your eyes.
You were shocked at how you couldn’t even see small streams of light through it. You had always assumed that it was sheer fabric and that Gojo could slightly see through it, but you were mistaken. Satoru’s amazing Six Eyes technique is one to behold, he certainly is the strongest jujitsu sorcerer.
“OK, now that her eyes are covered, I’m going to hand each of you a playing card. Whoever draws the highest card gets to go first.” Satoru explained nonchalantly, as the sound of him shuffling the cards expertly made itself known in your ears.
After a short moment of listening to each man shift on the couch to get their card, Gojo spoke. “Now let’s reveal our cards.” You heard a few small sighs of excitement from some of the men, and you also heard some hisses of displeasure, assuming that they would have to wait a while until their turn.
You heard someone come near your face and hastily brought the tip of his dick to your soft lips. You gave his cock a loving kiss and welcomed him in your mouth sweetly. You slurped him hungrily and made sure to swivel your tongue all over his rod. You were able to taste his precum leaking from his tip. So you lapped it up like a hungry kitten. Your ears picked up on a faint groan of delight from the man above you. You couldn’t tell if it was Yuuta or Itadori though. You beckoned him down your throat expertly, earning another sigh of satisfaction.
You held him lodged in your throat briefly, and then you pulled him out and sucked him sweetly. With your free hand, you simultaneously jerked him off in your mouth as you slurped on his rod. Then you burrowed him down your throat again.
This man carefully cupped your face in his hands while you deep-throated him. You removed yourself from his horny dick and traced your tongue all over him seductively. You licked him like a lollipop, making sure to coat him up in your saliva. You even made sure to give his balls a good licking. His slick dick arched yearningly against your cheek while you worked your tongue on his nuts.
Itadori was rendered speechless at the sight before him. You sucked, licked, and kissed him so perfectly. He wanted to pull you off his dick and immediately return the favor.
Let me face fuck her!
Sukuna’s irrational voice belted in Itadori’s head.
Then the timer went off, getting your attention. You felt him step away from you, leaving your face a wet mess. It wouldn’t hurt to guess him again, soon enough you’d be bound to get it right, “Yuji?” You asked while you felt him lower the fabric from your eyes.
“Correct!” Itadori beamed down at you with a playful smile, the way his lips curved upward was contagious, and you couldn’t help but grin back. He pulled his shirt off and threw it to the side casually.
“Can you fuck me while I lay down? I’m feeling a bit tired.” You asked smoothly, batting your pretty eyelashes up at the pink-haired man.
“Of course, baby! Let me take care of you.” He hummed as he guided you onto your back. Your legs dangled off the edge of its cushions and Itadori kneeled between your thighs. His warm brown eyes gleamed at you dreamily. He rubbed the head of his dick against your slippery entrance, then he slowly inserted himself into you. Even though you were already turned on and ready to go, his gentle approach melted your heart. Once he was fully inside you, he paused and groaned out in sick pleasure. “Ohh… you’re so fucking wet.”
Itadori placed both of his hands on your plump breasts and faintly groped them. He softly moved his dick in and out of you, but quickly became impatient. “C-can I fuck you rough?” He muttered pleadingly through his narrowed eyebrows, he was clearly holding himself back. Itadori saw how aggressive Megumi was with you, but he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries.
You smiled wryly at him, “What if I said no? And you had to go slow and gentle?” You teased with an arched brow.
That fucking tease, let me have her right now.
Demanded Sukuna in Yuji’s head, but Itadori ignored him and shoved Ryomen to the back of his mind.
“Then I’d respect that, I’ll treat you like a delicate flower if that’s what you wanted,” Itadori murmured while leaning forward to kiss you faintly. “But it would be so hard to restrain myself, especially from you.”
With that being said, your pussy automatically clenched around him desperately. Feeling that, Yuji flashed you a smug grin, “I think I know what you want.”
“Oh yeah?” You said with an aroused look on your face.
“Yeah,” Itadori smirked while brutally plowing his rod into your cunt, earning a sexy moan from you. “You want me to dick you down good, that’s what- you want.” He shoved his cock into you again, this time extra deep.
“Mmm hmm.” You whined while wrapping your legs around his toned waist.
You didn’t have to tell Itadori twice. It was as if a switch went off and he rabidly pumped himself into you like a wild animal. Moans fell from your lips with every thrust, Itadori leaned down and made out with you ravishingly. You loved how special he made you feel.
You instinctively clutched onto his shoulders as he railed you, knowing that you’d leave faint scratches on his skin. “Oh, Yuji!” You whined as he brought his hot mouth down to the crook of your neck. You sucked on his skin hungrily.
You forgot how powerful Itadori was, each time he collided his hips against yours, your whole body would ride up the futon. Eventually, your head dangled off the edge due to Yuji’s mighty thrusts. While writhing in pleasure, you accidentally made eye contact with Satoru. Your teacher observed you both with a lustful look in his eye. Yuji is finally getting a piece of the action he thought humorously.
Yuji then grabbed ahold of your slim waist and dragged you back down hastily. He put his hands back on your boobs as if they belonged there and continued to plow himself into you. With each mighty thrust, he would gasp quietly for air. Which fired you up even more, his little sighs were just too hot.
Itadori looked at you with such admiration, as sweat shone on his face. You’re just so incredibly gorgeous and to top it off you had a beautiful body. He adored your sweet personality and how you interact with others. After this, he plans on asking your boyfriends if he could be the fourth.
Fuck, asking those weaklings if you could be her boyfriend. Just take her for yourself you pussy.
Itadori ignored Sukuna’s. He needs to focus on cumming soon, otherwise, his turn will be up before he knows it. He pounded into you with a sense of urgency now, making sure to hit that pleasurable spot up inside you. Small cries of delight came from your lips as you pulled him closer and kissed him feverishly.
“Cum in me.” You murmured against his hot mouth.
Those words alone sent Itadori over the edge and he pumped himself into you a few rough times before losing it. As his dick hit your G-spot, you came in union with him. Both of you shuddered in pleasure as you covered his rod with your release. He shot his clear sticky liquid into you profusely, you could feel his length twitch while he emptied himself inside you.
Right on cue, the timer went off and Itadori pulled his head from the crook of your neck. You looked up at him contently; but right before your eyes, Yuji’s kind brown eyes gleamed a ferocious red. Tattoos formed on his face and shoulders and the energy in the room shifted into an all too dark and familiar one.
“S-Sukuna.” You were pinned underneath him and had nowhere to go, you felt like cornered prey.
“I’m back for more darling.” Ryomen purred lowly, he then licked the shell of your ear seductively. Being so close to the King of Curses, caused your entire body to shiver with fear.
All the other males who sat on the couch watching this ordeal unfold before them jumped up and were ready to defend you.
“Get off- ahh.” Inumaki’s cursed speech was a futile attempt against the King of Curses. All Sukuna did was shoot your boyfriend a glare and Toge started coughing up blood.
“No, don’t hurt them!” You cried out from underneath Sukuna’s ripped body.
Ryomen looked down at you cockily, “Oh? And what if I do-“
“You won’t be able to.” Interrupted Satoru. “Cause, I’ll end you. Right here, right now.” He warned venomously.
Sukuna whirled his head to look at Satoru with a challenging smile, “Calm down Honored One,” he sneered, “I was only joking. I’m just here to have some fun with the girl. I’ll let the brat take over once my seven minutes are up, got it?”
“Only if it’s ok with Y/n.” Gojo retorted with his arms crossed.
Ryomen looked down at you with a sadistic smirk, “What do you say Y/n? Wanna enjoy me sober this time?”
You quivered nervously underneath him, the night you shared with Itadori and Sukuna was a hazy one. You were heavily intoxicated and can only recall bits and pieces of what happened. You remember getting fucked rough by Sukuna in the bathroom. You recall enjoying it, even though he was incredibly scary. The encounter was a bit fragmented though… but then again, the following day you woke with brutal scratches and bite marks all over your body. Which Inumaki was not a fan of and he told your other boyfriends in the group chat that he didn’t Yuji near you ever again.
Despite the drama, Itadori was permitted to come and to strictly keep Sukuna at bay. But it seemed that was out of his control…
“You have my permission. Only if you don’t make me bleed.” You stated trying to sound stern, but your voice wavered with fear.
“Deal,” Sukuna said with a sharp-toothed smile.
Gojo’s glowing blue eyes looked at Sukuna coldly, “Very well, your timer starts now.”
“Excellent. Now let’s get this shit off of you.” Ryomen grunted while aggressively ripping off the one-piece teddy you wore. He tossed the dainty fabric to the floor, “I’ll keep the collar on you, just because it has an ‘S’ for Sukuna.” He said lowly, while Satoru rolled his eyes to himself.
Ryomen lowered his hot mouth down to your neck. Being so close to this malicious curse felt wrong and your body instinctively squirmed with panic. His hot mouth bit down on your neck and sucked roughly, he was claiming you as his in front of everyone. Sukuna maintained his gaze toward your boyfriends while marking you, daring them to challenge him. He made sure not to break your fragile skin, his large hands clasped themselves in yours possessively. He pinned both of your hands above your head and pulled away to admire the conflicted and flustered look on your face.
Ryomen could tell that you were noticeably shaken by terror, and the look of fear in your gorgeous eyes made his cock ache for you. “It’s ok to be scared in my presence, you have every right to be.” He taunted while keeping his ferocious gaze on your pretty face, he clasped both of your wrists in his left hand and brought his right hand down to your chin. He cupped your face gruffly and forcefully placed his lips on yours. His kiss felt incredibly intense, and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. This was so wrong, but it felt as if your body was getting drawn to his darkness. You involuntarily fell under his spell and kissed him back hotly.
Knowing that Gojo was here and moderating the situation helped ease your nerves, “Yeah, just surrender to me.” Sukuna growled against your lips while you felt the tip of his girthy dick deliciously rub against your entrance. A small mewl fell from your lips and into Ryomen’s mouth, he smirked cockily. “Good girl.” With that being said, he rammed himself into you greedily.
“Ahh!” You screamed out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, you tried to rip your hands out of his grasp and crawl away, but he held you firmly.
“Mmh, don’t think you can go anywhere…” Sukuna growled menacingly. You were able to feel his dick twitch inside of you with delight. He stretched you out similarly to Gojo’s dick, but it was the sheer and brutal force behind Sukuna’s thrust, that made it sting. “Now, let’s show them who you belong to.”
In a flash; he stood you up, turned you around, and bent you over. His hands roughly gripped the slim of your waist and he bullied his monstrous cock inside your slick cunt. He vigorously pounded himself into you, each thrust had incredible tenacity behind it. Despite his roughness, your pussy squelched around him in satisfaction. “That’s my little slut, I knew you missed me,” Sukuna grunted out from behind you.
He lifted your waist in the air and walked over to Noritoshi. He practically railed you over top of him, you felt him grab your hair harshly and force you to look into Kamo’s slate-gray eyes. “Tell him you love my dick.”
Your cheeks flushed at his demand, “That’s mean. I- ohh…” Sukuna deliberately came in contact with your g-spot, “shouldn’t.” You finished your sentence with a breathy sigh.
“Don’t care.” He hissed in your ear, “Do. It.” Ryomen ordered as he viscously pumped himself into you.
You shook your head in retaliation, “No…” you whimpered meekly.
“Defying me will get you nowhere. Perhaps, you need a little inspiration.” At lightning speed, Sukuna’s muscular hand aggressively gripped Noritoshi’s throat.
Kamo was taken aback by the massive wave of dark energy coming off the curse in front of him. Having his hand grip Noritoshi’s throat, there was nothing he could do but freeze. His muscles were at a standstill still even though he wanted to fight back.
“Stop it!” You cried, bringing both of your hands up to Sukuna’s forearm. But he gruffly grabbed your thin wrists and pinned them behind your back.
“Say it, and I’ll stop.” Grunted Sukuna as he continued to push himself into you.
Kamo couldn’t breathe and he hated that his body wouldn’t let him fight back. All he was able to do was stare at your fear-stricken face as the King of Curses claimed your body as his.
“I-I love his dick.” You muttered under your breath, not looking at Kamo, as your body jolted from every thrust.
“No! Say it right. Say my name.” Sukuna threatened you, squeezing your wrists and Kamo’s neck forcefully.
“Ow!” You whined in response to the sharp pain, “OK! I love your dick Sukuna!” You moaned out and just as he promised, he briskly let go of Noritoshi’s throat. Kamo gasped in air immediately, he wanted to detest him, but his soul and body knew better than to provoke Ryomen Sukuna.
“Way to go! Now was that so hard?” The curse cooed against the back of your neck in approval, “Now let’s do the same thing to each of these weaklings.”
Before you could respond, Ryomen brought you over to Megumi, who was glaring daggers at Sukuna. The King of Curses paid no mind to him and continued to blow your back out over the top of your boyfriend. “Tell him you belong to me.”
“But he’s my boyfriend… ahh!” You cried out in hot sick pleasure as Sukuna deliberately fucked you at a faster speed.
“Say it. Unless you want him to suffocate too.” Ryomen barked sternly while leaning forward to leave a fat hickey on your shoulder, purposely overtop Megumi’s. You squirmed with pleasure underneath his molten mouth.
You didn’t want Sukuna to harm Fushiguro so you obediently said, “I belong to Sukuna-ahh!” You cried out in bliss. Why did his dick have to hit all the right places inside of you? You found it hard to be mad at the monster, because of how good he made you feel.
Despite the harsh words Sukuna was forcing you to say, Fushiguro couldn’t help but love how adorably horny you looked. Your boyfriend simply looked at you with a small smirk on his face and knew that you’d apologize and make up for it back home. He tried to lean forward to give you a reassuring kiss, but Ryomen harshly ripped you out of Fushiguro’s grasp. You were now hovering over Satoru, who couldn’t help but admire the fucked-out-look on your alluring face.
“Tell him my dick is superior,” Sukuna smirked at Gojo over your petite body. Satoru cockily rolled his eyes at his words, that was obviously a lie.
Getting railed so pleasurably made your brain go foggy, you felt as if you needed to please the Sukuna. You were his little slut now and did what the King of Curses wanted. “Sukuna’s dick is… mmh. Superior. Kiss me…” You were able to feel your fourth orgasm bubbling up inside you, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last any longer. Satoru smiled at your request and kissed you passionately, his hand cupped your chin lovingly. But before you knew it your body was bouncing in front of Mechamaru.
Kokichi wasn’t a fan of this public display of degradation, but calming the noticeable hard-on in his pants was out of his control. He couldn’t help but get turned on while watching you take Sukuna’s dick so perfectly.
“Tell him my dick feels better.” Sukuna groaned in your ear, enjoying the way your pussy sucked him in effortlessly.
“Sukuna’s dick feels better.” You whimpered overtop of Muta, while your pleading eyes met his. Kokichi couldn’t help but blatantly check you out while having your petite naked body so close to his. Having his cock in you felt so long ago, and he wanted to have another go at you.
Up next was your sweet Yuuta. He was worried about you at first, but after realizing that you were enjoying Ryomen’s length, he was content with watching your pretty face contort with pleasure. While observing this scenario unfold, he too struggled to calm his boner.
“Tell him my dick is all you need.”
“Sukuna’s dick is all I need… mmh yeah.” You gasped out in ecstasy, Sukuna bounced you on his cock scrumptiously, and everyone was able to hear how noticeably wet you were, and that shifted the energy in the room back to how it was earlier. The hostility toward Ryomen was long forgotten and the other males enjoyed the show he put on with you.
Yuuta’s gaze met yours lovingly, “You’re so pretty.” He cooed with approval.
Lastly, you could barely hold yourself up in front of Inumaki, Sukuna released your hands and you pulled in your boyfriend for a heated kiss. “Tell him you only want my cum in you.”
“I only want Sukuna’s cum in me.” You whined under your breath, and speaking of, “Just make me cum already.”
“Oh? What makes you think you can give me orders?” Ryomen sneered from behind you, giving your ass a brutal slap. You cried out in a mixture of pain and enticement. He knew that he was pushing on seven minutes real quick. It was time to finish. His hands gripped your waist securely while he ruthlessly smashed himself into you. You were beyond exhausted and found yourself falling victim to gravity. Sukuna picked up on this and hoisted you up, so your feet weren’t even on the ground. Each powerful thrust sent his dick bullying against your cervix, making you cry out. Inumaki pressed his lips against yours tantalizingly while Sukuna demolished you aggressively. You couldn't hold it back any longer, and drenched Ryomen’s rod with your cum.
“Your pussy is too fucking perfect… you’re mine.” Groaned Sukuna as he emptied himself nice and deep inside of you.
Your lips were glued on your boyfriends, while you felt Sukuna’s dick shoot his continuous strands of seed in you. He twirled you around with his cock still lodged up inside you and pulled you close to his chest. He pressed his lips against yours passionately, “If you need a good fucking, you know where to f-“
Suddenly, the timer went off, and Sukuna’s fiery red gaze transitioned to Yuji’s soft brown one, just as promised.
“Oh, sorry about Sukuna. I have a hard time reining him in whenever I’m around you.” Itadori admitted sheepishly, running his hand through his pink hair. “I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you.” Yuji gave you a gentle hug and then pulled his spent member from your damp core. As soon as he pulled out a few streams of clear cum came running down your thighs.
You could barely stand, so Itadori swooped you up and gingerly set you down on the futon. He helped you put the blindfold back on. You smiled at his gentle treatment toward you. Now there are only two guys left, Toge and Yuuta.
Next
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theearthwassoup · 1 year
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4 and 5 from angst 3 from fluff wanda x reader angst with happy ending maybe reader thinks wanda is cheating on her because she’s distant and hiding things but really wanda is just planning to propose
yellow rose, diamond ring
a/n: hi! Thank you so much for this request!! Angst, angst, angst, i could read/write it all day lol, also so sorry for the late post
word count: 1.7k
warning(s): miscommunication | mentions of cheating | insecurity | happy ending
4: “don’t lie to me” 5: “am i not important to you anymore” 3: “i can’t imagine a world in which i don’t adore you”
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You were getting tired of this, tired of the pain, the distance. Leaning against the counter, you stared aimlessly at the smooth marble, a hint of your reflection staring back at you. Wanda left about an hour ago for some work meeting but by the way she smiled at her phone and walked out the door with a wistful look in her eye, you knew she wasn’t going to work. She had been acting like this for a while now, taking forever to answer your texts, not answering your calls, running late for your dates. Combined, her actions sent a sinking feeling into your gut and you bit on your knuckle to keep your sobs at bay.
Maybe you had done something wrong? Was there something you said that pushed her into the comfort of another’s arms?
You realized she had forgotten that tonight was movie night, a somewhat sacred tradition of your relationship. The bowl of cold popcorn sat next to you on the island, taunting you. You debated knocking it on the floor but instead decided to pick it up and eat a few popcorn pieces. You made your way over to the couch, where the end tables were covered in sweet snacks and soda cans that would fuel the two of you through your marathon. Collapsing on the couch, you curled into your blanket and continued to shove popcorn in your face. You turned on the TV and started watching old reruns of the original Star Trek. It was far from the marathon of Sandra Bullock rom-coms you had planned but it lifted your spirits a bit. You were starting to actually get invested in the plot when you heard your door open. Wanda was smiling at her phone, biting her lip as she did when she was excited. It made you feel suddenly freezing and you tightened your blanket around you. Wanda looked up, her happy expression fading away into one of confusion when she saw the TV on. Making her way to the couch, she looked at you, scrunching her eyebrows.
“You started without me?”
Her voice almost sounded hurt but you brushed it off. scoffing, you refused to look at her, merely raising the volume of the show. Wanda raised one eyebrow at your actions, even more confusion taking over her. After a few minutes of Wanda staring at you and you pointedly making the effort to not look at her, Wanda came to stand in front of the TV, turning it off with a flick of her fingers. You were about to protest when she looked at you sternly.
“What’s going on, Y/N?” Her voice was soft, worried, but it did little to comfort you. You knew that this was the start of the conversation you dreaded to have. When she tells you of her lover, the person she’s been leaving you for.
“I should be asking you that.”
You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth, making Wanda do a slight double take.
“Wha-”
“Where were you tonight, Wanda?”
You noted the slight panic that alit in your girlfriend’s eyes and it took everything in you to not release the tears gathering in your eyes,
“I told you, baby, I was at a meeting?”
She answered like she was asking a question, fiddling with her hands, a nervous habit of hers. You stood up, blanket dropping to the floor as you glared at her.
“Don’t lie to me.” You seethed out, traitorous tears falling down your cheeks. Wanda gasped, taking a step forward, hands reached out to comfort you. But you stepped away, shaking your head.
Wanda’s heart rate increased, panic and confusion gripping her heart. She didn’t know what was going on, why you were acting like this, why you were looking at her with such pain in your eyes. All she wanted to do was gather you in her arms and hug you so tightly that whatever was antagonizing you would disappear from your mind. But you weren’t letting her near you, keeping your distance in a way that sent fear shooting through Wanda’s heart.
This wasn’t how she wanted the night to go, this isn’t what she planned.
“I-I can’t take anymore of this Wanda,” you choked out, more and more tears streaming down your cheeks and staining your sweater, “You’ve been so distant, hiding things from me, lying about where you’ve been going. It’s been three weeks of this Wanda, three weeks of me wondering what I did wrong.”
Wanda’s eyes widened and she replayed her actions in her mind, grimacing at what she found. She had been distancing herself, unbeknownst to her conscious thoughts, putting you through what she imagined was emotional hell. Wanda opened her mouth to speak but you continued.
"Wondering why you've decided I wasn't enough, Wanda. Who-who did you meet that took all your attention? You were late to movie night, Wanda! We never miss movie night. It's-it's like you forgot all about me," you spoke through your sobs, wrapping your arms around yourself as a protective shield. Wanda tried to intervene, desperate to explain herself, to salvage what little of her perfect night was left, but then you whispered the words that completely shattered her.
"Am I not important to you anymore?"
Wanda powered forward, wrapping her arms around you as your head fell against her shoulder, tears painting her own shirt. One hand cradled your head as she grasped you tightly with the other.
"Y/N, oh my love, you could never not be important to me."
You continued to cry, confusion and weeks of emotional hell swirling like a storm in your mind. You pulled back from her shoulder but made no move to leave Wanda's arms, a motion she took with a flicker of hope. Swallowing, you asked the question at the forefront of your mind.
"Is there someone else?"
Your voice was broken and hoarse, scraping against Wanda's heart as it broke into pieces. Part of her felt angry you could ever believe she would stray to another but another part of her mind screamed at her, how could she not? look at how you've been treating her these past weeks!
Wanda sighed, cupping your face in her hands before maneuvering you to sit on the couch as she knelt in front of you, hands tangled in yours.
You were frozen with anxiety and fear, your heart beating loud and fast, your eyes wide as she rose her head to look at you. While you were expecting guilt and apologies, all you saw was an endless ocean of love, with an unspoken apology shining in her eyes.
"Y/N, there's no one and will be no one else. You're the one for me and I fear I messed up what was supposed to be a hopefully core memory tonight."
She took a deep breath, pausing as she continued to look at you. You realized she was asking you if she could explain. Shakily, you nodded, a thousand thoughts in your mind but doubt was no longer one of them. The pain of being cheated on was still present but it was conquered by the truth you saw in Wanda's eyes and heard in her voice. Wanda smiled, equally nervous, before continuing.
"The reason I've been distant, lying about where I've been, hiding things from you is because I didn't want to ruin it but," she laughed without humor, angry at herself, "It seems I already have."
You squeezed Wanda's hands, making her look at you after she had stared at your joined hands, self-deprecation clear in her eyes. You looked at her, confused but no longer crying.
"Ruined what?"
Your soft voice made Wanda spill a few tears down her cheeks. She unclasped one hand and gestured around at your living room, the TV, the popcorn, the snacks.
"You love our movie nights, you always put so much effort into planning which movies to watch, which snacks and drinks fit the 'aesthetic' of the movie. I thought that tonight would be a perfect time than ever, considering your choice of movies," Wanda took a breath before reaching into her pocket to pull out a small black box. You gasped, your heart now beating fast for a completely different reason.
"During 'The Proposal' I was going to well," she waved the box a little in the air, "propose. And then hopefully spend the rest of the night watching movies with my fiancée, I even had a little speech-"
"Ask me."
You interrupted Wanda, whose eyes shot up to meet yours, widening. You smiled, lifting your chin in false bravado to cover up the rapid jittery feeling flooding your body.
"How would you know if you ruined anything if you don't ask me, Maximoff?"
Wanda's mouth opened and closed and you giggled at the resemblance of your girlfriend to a fish. After concluding you weren't joking, Wanda settled herself on one knee, opening the box and taking a deep breath. You gasped at the ring, the band and stone straight out of your fantasies.
"Y/N, love of my life, these past years have been the best of my life and I am eternally grateful to have met you. I can't imagine a world in which I don't adore you. I would love to call you my wife, so-"
"Yes!"
You blurted out before slapping a hand over your mouth, laughing at yourself.
"Sorry, sorry, continue!"
Wanda smiled at your happy expression, glad to be rid of the horrid tears she had caused.
"Will you marry me?"
You shot forward, wrapping your arms around her neck, causing Wanda to tumble to the ground, barely missing the ottoman. You nodded as Wanda pressed kisses into your hair. You sat up, straddling Wanda's legs as you plucked the ring from the box and slipped in onto your ring finger.
"I guess.."
You spoke faux nonchalantly, laughing as Wanda raised her hands to tickle your sides.
"You guess? Gee, thanks for the enthusiasm!"
You laughed, swatting her hands away. Wanda laughed too before sitting up so you were in her lap, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.
"We still need to talk about what I did."
She whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded in agreement.
"We will. But for now, let's enjoy being engaged by watching Sandra Bullock movies."
Wanda laughed at that, picking you up to drop you on the couch. As you cuddled against your fiancée and listened to the opening music of While You Were Sleeping, you felt the tense atmosphere of the past three weeks melt away and your future with Wanda shone bright ahead.
a/n: I hope this was good! thank you for reading!!
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fanauthorworkshop · 10 days
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Introducing the FAW Summer Asynch Session!
Many people have mentioned that the times I lead the spring and fall workshops aren’t accessible for those with busy/unpredictable schedules, but they would still like to participate in the workshop and join the FAW community. To address that feedback, I’m running an asynchronous summer session. An asynch session doesn’t have a set meeting time. Instead, you’ll read up to 2 pieces presented each week by fellow participants, write them crit letters, and participate in discussion over Discord. 
The only required* meeting is an individual 30 minute Zoom call with me any time during the two weeks prior to the start of workshop. We'll use that time to go over the syllabus together and I can answer any questions you have. You'll book via Calendly once I send the welcome email.
*Optional for previous participants
Participants of the workshop receive:
Attendance in a 4-6 week asynchronous course during which you’ll provide feedback to your peers and workshop one piece of your own work, up to 6,000 words.
Access to the Fanauthor Workshop Discord server, an active community where we host weekly accountability meetings, writing sprints, a twice monthly short story club, and other events.
A 15-30 minute pre-workshop consultation with me to go over the syllabus and any questions you have.
A 30-45 minute post-workshop consultation with me to discuss the feedback you received, come up with a plan for revision and/or publication, or anything else you’d like to discuss regarding your writing.
Open enrollment option in future workshops.
Timeline
Applications close: June 14
Syllabus calls: July 1 - 12
Workshop begins: July 15
Workshop ends: Before August 23, depending on the number of participants
Cost
The recommended amount is $150. If you’re experiencing financial hardship and unable to pay, or can't pay the full amount, please let me know.
How to apply
Eligibility
Anyone over the age of 18 who considers themselves a participant of fandom and who is familiar with fanfiction may apply. A stable internet connection is also required. Submissions must be written in English.
Application requirements
To apply, you will need:
A brief cover letter discussing your fan history and goals as a (fan)writer (more specific instructions on submittable).
Maximum 1,000 words of your writing, either original work or fanfiction. This may be previously published/posted.
You can apply via submittable. Applications close June 14. There is no fee for applying.
FAQ and other info under the cut.
FAQ
Are there any content restrictions to what I can workshop?
The only restriction is word count (max 6k), with the following caveats:
If you workshop a piece in a form other than prose (for example, a script), your peers may not be able to offer constructive feedback on that aspect of the work. Participants are asked only to have a familiarity with prose.
Content warnings are required for each piece (if applicable), and participants who are uncomfortable reading certain subject matter may abstain from your workshop.
What is the time commitment of the workshop?
As a participant of the workshop, you'll be asked to:
Workshop any piece of your own prose up to 6k words, which will need to be uploaded no later than the Sunday prior to your workshop week. For example, if you sign up to workshop in week 2, your submission will be due July 14. Participants will have a week to read it and write their crit letter, and discussion will begin over Discord on July 22.
Read 2 pieces per week, write a 1-page crit letter for the author, and participate in the Discord discussion.
What are the benefits of being in the Fanauthor Workshop community?
We have an active Discord server open only to those who have participated in the workshop. Once you've completed the workshop, you'll have access to attend our weekly accountability meetings*, writing sprints, our twice monthly short story club, and other events we host.
*I'm working on figuring out an asynch accountability group.
You'll also have an open enrollment option in future workshops, where in lieu of applying again, you can pay a portion of what you intend to pay and secure your seat in the upcoming workshop.
I'll be working on rolling out additional events and benefits throughout the year.
Can workshop participants submit to OFIC Magazine?
Yes! Part of the reason I run the workshop is to inspire and promote the original work of fanwriters. You can follow us on tumblr @oficmag.
Who is running the workshop?
@bettsfic! In short, I lived a dreary cubicle life as a banker until I found fanfiction at 24. I loved it so much that I quit my job to get an MFA in creative writing. I loved the MFA so much that I became a writing teacher. I have some publications, awards, an agent, and 2 million words of fic on ao3. I don't have a book out yet but I'm getting there.
Currently I'm a writing coach and freelance editor. I also have a lowkey writing-related newsletter. And I've been answering writing advice asks on my blog for 10 years.
If you want an idea of the kind of writing activities I create, last summer I worked with @books on a workshop series which includes craft essays and some fun prompts.
If you're interested in my original work, my short story "Not If, When" is a good representation of my writing. For something darker, check out "Shut Up and Kill Me."
What is the workshop like?
Check out G's experience of attending the workshop. And here's some feedback from previous participants.
One final note: This is the first summer asynch session so there may be some hiccups. I've taught asynch classes before so it's not totally new to me, but there's still bound to be some pivoting when the workflow that makes sense in my head doesn't work super well in reality. It happens sometimes. I'm always taking feedback and trying to improve the workshop.
If you have questions about the workshop or application process, you can shoot me an ask, DM me, or add me on Discord (I'm bettsfic there too). Or you can email me at [email protected].
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fanfictionalraven · 1 month
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Piece by Piece Pt. 4
Title: Piece By Piece Pt. 4
Summary: Dean struggles with his looming decision.
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, original characters
Word Count: 3,288
Warnings: N/A
Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.
Read Piece by Piece Pt. 3 here.
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You finally manage to pull yourself up from the front porch steps and go back into the house. It was an absolute mess and you needed something to do. So you set about fixing your home. You set the shredded couch cushions aside, deciding to try and repair them later. You turn the coffee table right side up and return the magazines and flowers to their original spot. You struggle to pull the knife out of the wall and it finally budges, letting the bloodstained note fall to the ground. Crumpling it up quickly, you throw it away before dropping the knife in the sink. You’re in the process of scrubbing the blood off the wall when your phone rings. Dean. You close your eyes and put the phone to your ear.
“Hello?” You ask quietly.
“Hey, we’ve got them,” Dean answers from the other end of the line. You let out a breath and throw your hand over your mouth quickly.
“Are they okay?” You ask.
“They’re both fine. Tina’s unconscious so we’re gonna take her to the hospital,” he tells you. You nod, tossing the rag you’d been working with aside.
“Okay. I’m coming too,” you tell him, rushing to pick up your purse.
“We’ll meet you there,” Dean says before hanging up. You drop your phone into your purse before running out to your car. You fight tears as you fumble with your key, trying to stick it in the ignition. You stop and lay your head against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a minute to cry. M.K. was safe. Tina was safe. The monster no longer had them. Dean and Sam did and they were safe. You look over at the birthday cake still sitting in the passenger seat and smile a little. She’d get to have her birthday cake after all.
Once you’ve calmed yourself down, you’re finally able to get the car started. The drive to the hospital feels longer than it ever has despite there being little traffic on the road. Once you finally make it to the hospital, you park your car next to the Impala and, before going inside, you call Tina’s mom. It’s a difficult conversation to have. She’s your best friend and you hate lying to her, but you know you can’t tell her the whole truth. So you give her half-truths instead. She was taken by the killer but the F.B.I had found them. She lets you go, making her own way to the hospital now.
You rush into the emergency entrance and find Sam in the waiting room. A surge of panic rushes through you at the sight of him by himself. He stands when he sees you making your way over to him. He smiles, reassuringly, and places his hands on your shoulders, recognizing the look on your face.
“M.K.’s fine. Dean asked them to check her out too just to be sure and she didn’t want to go back by herself,” he explains. You sigh and nod before throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.
“Thank you so much, Sam. I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” you tell him. He lets out a laugh, returning the hug.
“She’s my niece, Y/N. You don’t have to repay me,” he says. You nod, looking up at him.
“Well, still. Why don’t you and Dean stay the night with us? A nice comfy bed, instead of the cheap motel I’m sure you’re planning to stay at. We’ve got birthday cake and I’m sure M.K. would love having you both there,” you say, trying to persuade him. He laughs again and nods.
“You had me at comfy bed,” he says. You smile then bite your lip.
“Will Dean go for it?” You ask. Sam smirks slightly and shrugs.
“Just have M.K. pout at him and he’ll melt,” he says. You raise an eyebrow but before you can question him…
“Momma!!” You hear M.K. call, joyously. You turn on your heels just as Dean steps through the door with her on his hip. She’s clutching a bear you’ve never seen before in one arm, the other wrapped tight around Dean’s neck. It was a sight you’d only ever dreamed of seeing. Father and daughter together at last. He sets her down and you nearly fall to your knees, holding your arms open for her. She bounds into your arms and wraps her own around you tight. You hold onto her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Momma, you’re crushing me,” she laughs.
“I’m sorry, Baby Girl,” you say, letting her go. “What’s this?” You ask, pulling at the bear’s hat slightly. M.K. smiles widely and looks back at Dean. He smiles and sticks his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor. “I see.”
“Well, Dean,” Sam starts. The older Winchester looks up at his brother. “Y/N has graciously offered to let us stay with them tonight.” Dean’s eyes widen slightly and M.K. spins around on him quickly.
“Please!! We can have birthday cake!! It would be the best birthday ever if you came over!!” She says, bouncing slightly. You watch in amazement as his resolve melts away instantly before he nods.
“Yea, sounds good. I love birthday cake,” he says with a wink. M.K. squeals and runs over, wrapping her arms around his legs again. You look up at Sam and he nods.
“Told ya,” he mouths. You bite back a laugh before rising to your feet. “How about – M.K. and I go back to the motel and pick up our stuff?”
“Okay!!” She says, looking back at Sam. You turn to Sam, pulling your wallet out.
“I know I’m starving and I’m sure everyone else is. Why don’t you pick up something to eat too?” You suggest, handing him some cash. He takes it and nods, before holding a hand out for M.K.
“Sounds like a plan. What should we get, Birthday Girl?” He asks. She runs to him, clasping his large hand with her tiny one.
“Bacon cheeseburgers!!” She says. Sam snorts and looks at Dean as they start to leave the waiting room.
“Who knew a love of cholesterol was genetic?” He asks. Dean rolls his eyes and tosses the Impala’s keys to Sam quickly. You watch Sam and M.K. leave and shake your head slightly. They both already loved and adored her more than you could have ever imagined possible.
“You okay?” Dean asks, pulling you from your thoughts. You smile at him and nod.
“I’m good. You know you didn’t have to get her anything,” you tell him, sitting in one of the chairs. He shrugs, falling into the one next to you.
“Didn’t feel right showing up empty handed tonight,” he says. You look at him and smile.
“So you were still planning on coming to dinner?” You ask him. He sighs and runs a hand over his jaw. Your smile falls slightly. “You’d changed your mind.”
“No,” he says quickly. “No, I didn’t change my mind. I was just starting to panic when you called. Look, Y/N, I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. And she’s got these huge expectations,” he starts. You reach over, placing your hand on his.
“Dean, it’s okay. I get that this is a lot to take in in one day. I really do,” you tell him. He nods and you bite your lip, watching him. He turns his hand over, interlocking your fingers.
“I’ve got so many questions and no idea where to start,” he admits. You let out a laugh and nod slightly. “What are we waiting for?”  He asks, looking up at you.
“Tina’s mom, Lily. She’s my best friend. I can’t just leave her daughter here alone,” you say. He nods and looks around the waiting room. There’s a long silence as Dean appears to be sorting his thoughts. His thumb rubs absentmindedly across the back of your hand.
“Did they know you were pregnant?” He finally asks. You shake your head, looking at your hand in his.
“No. I found out about a month before I graduated. I didn’t know what they would do if they found out so I kept it to myself. Met with my social worker after graduation and she tried to get me to give her up. Do exactly what my mother did. Told me it would be too hard to have a baby and go to school. We’d both be better off,” you tell him. He looks at you quickly and you shrug.
“Did you ever think about it?” He asks. You smile and shake your head.
“Never,” you pause and let out a laugh. “And it was really, freaking hard. I gave birth in the middle of my first semester of school and I was just about to flunk out when I met Lily. She started keeping M.K. for me and helped me study. She was a lifesaver.”
“You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone. If I had known, I swear, Y/N,” he says, shaking his head.
“I know, Dean,” you say softly. He looks at you and you’re surprised to find a sadness in his eyes. You reach up, placing your other hand against his cheek. He smiles a little when you do.
“Why didn’t you find someone else?” He asks. You smile at that.
“It’s not exactly easy for a single mother to get a date. I can’t just go out to have fun. I don’t even want to, really. And I’m not just looking for someone for me. He has to be right for M.K. too,” you tell him. “There have been a couple of men over the past few years. Good men that I thought would turn into something but they never did for different reasons.” He watches your face for a moment, as though he’s struggling to say something. He looks over at an empty chair as you watch him.
“You name her after Mom?” He asks.
“I did. I thought about giving her your last name but decided it would be easier logistically for her to have mine instead. But I did want her to have some part of you. I tossed around the idea of Deanna but I liked Mary better,” you tell him. He smiles and nods, a distant look in his eyes.
“She would have liked that,” he says. You smile and squeeze his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I like it. It fits her.” He brings your hand up and kisses the back of it lightly.
“Y/N!!” A voice calls from the door of the waiting room. You look up quickly and find your best friend, rushing towards you frantically. You and Dean both rise, his hand dropping yours before you pull Lily into a hug.
“I’m so sorry Lily. This is all my fault,” you tell her. She returns the embrace, shaking her head.
“Of course it isn’t!!” She says. She pushes you back by your shoulders. “How is she?” She asks. You look back at Dean and he smiles.
“She’s fine. She was unconscious when we brought her in but last I heard she’s doing fine,” he tells her, reassuringly.
“Are you the one that saved her?” She asks. Dean cuts his eyes at you briefly then nods, holding his hand out.
“Dean Winchester,” he says. Your eyes widen slightly. You hadn’t expected him to be honest about who he was. You’d expected the fake F.B.I. badge to come out and some old rock star’s name. Lily stares at him.
“Wait. Y/N’s Dean?” She asks, looking at you quickly. You blush at that and Dean chuckles.
“Guess you could say that,” he says. Lily bypasses his still outstretched hand and throws her arms around him. His eyes widen before he slowly returns the hug.
“Thank you so much, Dean!!” She says. He laughs lightly and shrugs as she lets go of him. She looks over his face for a moment before turning back to you. “You were right. He is gorgeous.”
“Lily!!” You gasp, your face heating up instantly. You catch Dean smirk slightly as he looks down at the ground.
“And M.K. does have his eyes,” she says. You shake your head and loop your arm through hers quickly.
“Dean, we’re gonna go find a nurse and figure out where Tina is,” you tell him. He looks up at you, still smiling, and nods.
“I’ll go wait at the car,” he says. You nod and fish your keys from your purse before handing them to him.
“It was nice to meet you,” Lily calls to him as you drag her from the waiting room. You stop at the nurse’s station and they give you Tina’s room number. You start to go down the hall when Lily pulls you back, stopping you. “Tee’s fine. Get out of here.”
“What?” You ask, frowning. She rolls her eyes at you.
“You’ve been waiting nearly 11 years for that man to come back into your life. And the fact that he’s here now, it’s like destiny or something. So go!!” She says, pushing you towards the entrance. You laugh and turn, hugging her quickly.
“Give Tina my love,” you tell her. She nods and hugs you back before pushing you towards the door again. You smile and walk outside into the cool night air. Dean’s leaning against the passenger side door. He stands up when he sees you coming over and pulls the door open. You stop in your tracks and he laughs.
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I made you drive?” He asks. You smile and shake your head.
“You don’t even know where you’re going,” you tell him, crossing your arms. He rolls his eyes.
“I’m real good at following directions,” he says. You let out a laugh then slide into the passenger side of your car, moving the cake to your lap. Dean closes the door before running around to the driver’s side.
The drive back to the house is relatively quiet. You give Dean turn by turn directions and he pulls into your driveway not long later. You both get out, you picking the cake up to finally take inside. He looks over the house appreciatively as you lead the way to the front door.
“This is nice,” he says. You smile and glance at him.
“Thanks. It’s the gold key with pink nail polish on it,” you tell him. He nods and looks at the keys still in his hand. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, allowing you to walk inside first. You hear him close the door as you walk into the kitchen, turning the lights on as you go. You set the cake on the counter then turn to the sink to wash the dishes that have been waiting since last night. “Sam said you had them check M.K. out too,” you call to him.
“Yea, wasn’t entirely sure I could take a ten-year old’s word on if she was actually hurt or not,” he says, walking into the kitchen. You laugh lightly and nod as he leans against the counter opposite you. “Better safe than sorry, right?” You nod, glancing over your shoulder at him. “She was right, naturally. Which she so delicately reminded me of before we found you.”
“Sounds like her,” you say. You run the sponge over a plate slowly and watch the suds slip around. “You didn’t have to tell Lily who you were, you know.”
“Well, I figured she’d get suspicious of some F.B.I. agent hanging around all the time,” he says. The plate slips from your grasp and hits the metal sink hard, breaking in half. You reach in to grab the pieces quickly.
“Ahhh,” you gasp, pulling your now bloody hand from the water. You’d managed to cut your palm on the knife you’d forgotten was in there too. Dean’s at your side instantly, wrapping a towel around your hand. “There’s a first aid kit under the sink,” you tell him with a sigh. He nods and you move out of the way, letting him get the kit out. He sets it on the counter then lifts you up onto it as well with ease. You watch as he works on your hand, holding it over the sink to keep the blood from getting on your countertops.
“Shouldn’t need stitches. It isn’t too deep,” he says, placing some gauze over it. He starts to wrap it up and you let out a laugh.
“You’re better at this than me and I’ve been medically trained,” you tell him. He smiles and shrugs. You bite your lip as you watch him. “You know, I’m not expecting anything from you.”
“What do you mean?” He asks, glancing at you as he cuts the bandage off and tucks the edge into the wrapping.
“You said that you introduced yourself to Lily because you’d be around all the time. I don’t expect that of you. I’m not asking that. I’m not asking you to marry me or move in or pay child support or anything,” you tell him. He laughs lightly, cleaning up the first aid supplies.
“I know you’re not,” he says. He returns the kit to its place under the sink before moving to stand between your knees. “Do you want me around?”
“Of course I do. But I’m not stupid. I remember the things you said about the life you live. And I know that what we had was just one night. I’d be certifiable if I thought you would just show up at my door and stay and we’d live happily ever after. That’s insane. But that’s not to say that our one night wasn’t special. I mean, I think we have a connection that we could possibly, maybe build a relationship on some day with some work but –,” Dean’s hand comes over your mouth, stopping you mid-rant.
“Will you shut up for half a second?” He asks, smiling. You nod and bite your lip as he uncovers your mouth. His hand drops to your waist where his fingers rub slowly. “I went back to find you. It was a few years later. Sam and Dad had this huge fight. Sam left to go to college and I thought if he could have what he wanted, why couldn’t I? But you were gone and no one knew where you were or what happened to you. So, I went back to Dad and kept hunting.” You slide closer to him, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “You’ve always meant more to me than just some one night stand. That being said though, I don’t know if I can do normal.”
“I understand,” you tell him. He sighs and leans in, resting his forehead against yours.
“I feel like a freakin’ seesaw. I want to be around. I want to be there for M.K. And I sure as hell don’t want you with anyone else. But I don’t know if I can stay and that isn’t fair to you two. And coming and going feels worse,” he admits. You can hear a car pulling into the driveway and cutting off. Sam and M.K. back with dinner. You lean in quickly and press your lips against Dean’s in a short, chaste kiss.
“Just think about it. I know what it’s like to have you for one night then spend the next 10 years wondering where you are,” you tell him. He nods slightly and takes a step back as the front door opens. You jump down from the counter just as M.K. comes running into the kitchen, the bear still in her arms.
Read Piece by Piece Pt. 5 here.
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swallowtailcherry · 2 years
Note
Hii ,hi how are you? I Hope you're doing well, i want to warn you about an anon that gas been sexually harressing people on Tumblr and sending nudes of girls and boys, please stay safe.
And i know this Is a really sensibile topic, but....could you please make something for Jack the ripper or Poseidon with a s/o that Is searching comfort from them After getting harressed?
Feel free not to do this,bye stay safe and Remember to take care of yourself
Seeking comfort after being harassed {Jack the Ripper/Poseidon}
Thank you for the warning! Everyone please be safe from those people.
1. I am sorry for this, but I'll do the physical harassment (I know this is a sensitive thing for those who have actually experienced this, so I apologise for possibly bringing back bad memories.)
2. My first time writing about Jack, please be gentle-
3. I'm writing for both of them because I feel like it.
4. Long as frick so get a snack lol
Warning: mentions of murder.
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Jack the Ripper🔪-
One of your friends had dragged you to a bar one night, insisting you needed to get out more. You didn't have any plans that night but you still refused. After some convincing, you agreed to go.
A few minutes in and your friend is already gone, leaving you by yourself at the main counter. You only took a few shots, but stopped yourself after the 4th shot.
Suddenly, some drunk guy sat next to you, resting his rough hand on your shoulder. He tried so many times to get you to talk, but you just ignored him and walked out the bar. You began your lone walk to your home.
Just when you turned a corner, hands began to caress your sides. You thrash in the guy's grip but he just held you tighter. You took out a small pocket knife and stabbed his leg. You took off the moment he let you go, running inside your house and locked it.
You had a hard time sleeping after that.
The next day, you refused to get of bed, let alone the house. This worried some of your friends and tried to ask you why, but you kept quiet, which led them to ask the friend who took you.
"I do not know. They just left without even saying anything." That was all they said. They decided to drop it once they realised their question won't be answered.
The next night, while it was dark, you heard a knock on your bedroom window. To your surprise, it was someone who you grew close to, Jack the Ripper. Your first encounter was when he was injured and you, a kind hearted soul, took him in, unaware of who he was. He originally wanted to kill you but seeing how kind you were, the thought of killing you soon went away.
"Milady, what seems to be troubling you?" He asked, his mixed eyes staring into your soul. Your dropped your head down low, refusing to let him see your tears. You wanted to lie your way out, but Jack would be aware of it.
"I-I was forced to go to a bar and this disgusting man touched me and tried to-"
"What did he look like?" You looked up, seeing the man's face turn to his usual murderous expression, but it seemed more dark.
"W-well, he had black hair and blue eyes and looks a little bigger than you. He also had some facial hair on his jaw." You described the man the best you could. Jack didn't say anything and disappeared into the night.
2 nights later~
Sweeping the floors of your house with a headache wasn't the best idea. After finishing off, you rested yourself on one of your chairs. You felt a piece of paper under your hand and picked it up. It was folded neatly and had beautiful handwriting. You opened it up and read the short letter.
I apologise for leaving you in your time of need, but I had to get rid of the beast who tried to corrupt you.
You felt a presence in your room and turned around, spotting Jack, twirling a knife in his hand. Without a second thought, you jumped up and hugged him. Jack held his arms away from you, not knowing what to do.
"You didn't need to kill him." Your voice muffled by his chest. Silence filled the room after you spoke.
"It was entirely necessary. I refuse to let them take your beautiful colours away."
Tears been to fall out, staining his shirt. Jack lowered his arms, slowly wrapping them around your waist.
He always thought he'd never meet a kind person, until life decided to let him meet you.
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Poseidon🔱-
Being married to one of the most fearsome gods has its ups and downs.
One up is that you're the only one who can meet his gaze and live the next day.
One down is that he refuses to let you show affection in public to not ruin his public image in being perfect. (It does upset you, but you understand)
He sees you as his equal, so it isn't much of a surprise when another god stupid enough tries to have his way with you and he is informed.
This god won't leave you alone, even when you declined his invitation to accompany him.
"I told you many times! I do not wish to go with you!" You yelled at the persistent god following you.
It all started when he approached you and started a normal conversation. Then, he started getting a little too touchy with you, brushing his hand against your bare skin, his hands lingering on your shoulders and hovering over your chest for too long. That was enough for you to storm out and head back to your husband, the god you truly love.
"Come on, beautiful! I just want to know you better." The god exclaimed, grabbing your wrist. He pulled you closer to him, smirking victoriously when he saw your frightened face.
"I don't think she feels the same way." A familiar voice chimed in. The god froze in his spot, giving you the chance to wiggle out of his arms and step away from him. You felt relieved to see Heracles, his usual smile not present on his face and replaced with a menacing glare. The god trembled in his shoes and just took off to who knows, too afraid to even try to speak to the towering demigod.
"Fucking coward." You thought, watching the god disappear around a corner. You felt the demigod's hand on your shoulder.
"You should go back to Uncle. I bet he's missing you." Heracles' face changed to a more cheerful one, his smile exposing his pearly whites. You giggled at his sudden change and nodded.
"I should. Thank you for saving me!"
"No problem!"
With that, you took off to see your husband. Before entering, you took the time to stand up straight, take a deep breath and walked in. You faced your husband, slowly making your way to your throne next to his. Sea Blue eyes observed your form, noticing your slightly messy hair and increased speed of your breathing.
He knew these were your signs of discomfort.
"Who is responsible?" His chilling voice filled the silence. You felt exposed upon hearing his question and hesitated on answering. But you gave up.
"Just another god." You finally answered, your hands gripping the armrests nervously. You knew lying to your husband would be impossible.
"Come here." He demanded. You quickly complied, standing in front of him, unsure of his next demand.
"I said, come here." He demanded again, his eyes staring right in your own orbs. You swallow slowly, stepping closer to him. This was strange, he never demanded, let alone asked for anything like this. With hesitation, you wrapped your arms around Poseidon's waist. When he didn't push you away, you lowered yourself down to sit on his lap.
Crying was out of the question if it was for anything else, but after what happened, you couldn't help it.
Your quietly sobbed, tightening the hug. Surprisingly, Poseidon did nothing but sit there, listening to your sobs.
Poseidon will have to wait until he can deal with the living filth that decided to get his dirty hands on his wife...
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Writing the harassing part was really uncomfortable, but I pushed through to complete this :D
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foxgangfoxgang · 1 month
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Adore You 4 (Yandere! Sugar Daddy! Mingi x Yandere! Yunho x Black! Reader)
Do you tell him? How do you tell him? How do you tell the man who took you off the streets, has you living in a luxurious penthouse, sends you on endless shopping trips, and is practically catering to you that his best friend is a psychopath and possibly a murderer. You bite your nails worried about how Mingi would take the news if you told him, on one hand its the truth and Mingi should know the truth...on the other hand Mingi could possibly know and kill you for speaking up. That's probably what happened to the other women the Yunho mentioned.
The clocks hands seemed to drag as every minute felt like a year, the anticipation of Mingi arriving home felt like you were at the top of a roller coaster ready to go down the hill. 1 minute, 2 minutes, 3 minutes....you were about to go insane. Finally the front door opened as Mingi walked in hanging his coat. You jumped rushing up to him ready to greet him. Mingi looked to you and smiled gently...weird. You've never seen Mingi smile at you so warmly before, the only other time you saw him smile was when you two watched the news of the perv being exposed. The warm smile made you temporarily forget your main purpose of approaching him. "Your excited to see me" Mingi commented as he walked to the kitchen, "I am?" you blush as Mingi grabbed two oranges, he peeled one and handed it to you before peeling the other and savoring each piece of fruit.
You nibble on the tangy fruit as the silence comforts you both. Mingi cleared his throat as he looked to you "I was told that my...ex wife came here" Mingi began, oh yeah....Sara. Yunho had completely taken over your mind you forgot that Sara had came. "She did...she wasn't all that happy to see me" you said picking at the orange. Mingi frowned, he didn't like that his past was popping up, he didn't like that you now knew he was once married, would the arrangement you two had be soured by this fact, will Sara run you away...no, over Mingi's dead body will you leave him. "Listen...Sara is...a previous affair, if she comes by again let me know and I will handle her" Mingi's eyes turned cold, it scared you. The sudden change in tone and the cold look in his eyes made you back off from your original plan to tell him about Yunho.
"Anyway, we're going to cook dinner together, think of it like bonding thing" Mingi informed you. Cooking...you never learned how to properly cook, you either took leftover food from the soup kitchen or steal small snacks from the convenience store. "I...I don't know how to cook" you tell Mingi. The business man looked to you for a moment before nodding "It's ok Yunho's joining us so he'll help me out" your blood ran cold, Yunho's coming.
7pm would roll around as Yunho happily entered Mingi's penthouse, Yunho loved cooking with Mingi, it was a special bonding time for the two, it would remind Yunho of when they first met in high school. Yunho would see Mingi eating alone due to his asshole friends abandoning him their reason to leave was for Mingi eating slow, Yunho would join him for lunch from then on and those assholes leaving Mingi by himself suddenly disappeared. Yunho entered the penthouse holding a bottle of fancy wine. Clattering could be heard from the kitchen, Yunho giddily skipped to the area where he saw Mingi gathering pots and pans and you sitting on the counter watching him. Yunho’s mood slightly soured, he thought you would have gotten the idea to stay out of his way when he came over, guess you were more stubborn than Yunho thought.
“Yunho put the wine in the fridge and help me” Mingi called out. Yunho fixed his face and did as so “so what’s the plan tonight?” Yunho asked, Mingi pulled out ingredients “I thought about either kimchi fried rice or bulgogi” Mingi explained, Mingi looked to you “what do you want” you looked to the counter afraid to make eye contact with yunho or Mingi “um…how about kimchi fried rice” you said softly. Mingi took notice to your behavior change, “if you’re embarrassed about not knowing to cook it’s ok” Mingi smiled softly, the older man walked around to you grabbing your hand, Mingi guided you to the counter “here take out the kimchi and cut it in chunks” Mingi stood behind you as he grabbed a knife and guided you on how to cut the kimchi.
Jealousy bubbled in Yunho as he watched you two, how pathetic of you to pretend you don’t know how to cook to get Mingi to coddle you. Yunho prepped the rice as he watched you carefully cut the kimchi by yourself as Mingi cut up the green onion and garlic. “So… (Y/N), how’s life been since Mingi took you in” Yunho asked. You kept quiet for a moment wanting to choose your words carefully who know how Yunho will react. “It’s different, I didn’t have a lot of money before so I feel weird” you said quietly, Yunho hummed “so what did you do before meeting Mingi” you froze as did Mingi. Yunho tried to hide a smirk, the both of you were hiding something.
“I um…” you tried to think, “she’s a college student” Mingi blurted. Mingi wasn’t an idiot he knew if anyone were to find out that you were just some homeless women he picked off the street he’d be a social laughing stock. “Oh what do you study” Yunho asked. You look to Mingi who only nodded towards Yunho “n-nursing” you stammer out. Yunho refrained from rolling his eyes, nursing a typical answer, it’s easy to act as if you’re a nursing student given their busy and hectic schedule.
Yunho only hummed and continued to prepare the food, both you and Mingi let out a sigh of relief. The cooking would go by quietly as everyone was stuck in their own minds. Finally the food was ready, the three of you sat and ate the meal. “So Mingi, it’s almost time for our annual trip, do you have an idea on where you want to go?” Yunho said the smugness hidden in his voice. “Oh, I forgot…well we’ve been everywhere even visited some places twice…y/n where would you like to visit” Yunho could nearly break his chopsticks the way he gripped them in anger at the mention of you joining the trip. You look to Mingi and think, you’ve never been outside of Korea, you don’t know what the world is like, is it as cruel where you already are, or is it different being the arm candy of a wealthy man.
“Mingi she’ll probably be too busy with her school work to go on a trip” Yunho smiled his teeth feeling as though they may break with how hard he’s clenching them. “She can make up her work” Mingi said, Mingi was touched Yunho cared so much about your education however he felt bad lying to his best friend. “Now y/n where would like to go” Mingi asked again. You tried not to look at the glaring Yunho “uh, p-paris?” You say more as a question than an actual statement. Mingi smiled “Paris is perfect, you loved it when we visited right Yunho” Mingi looked to his best friend. Yunho forced a smile “ I did, it was such a great time for us” Yunho emphasized on the word us. “Then that’s where we’ll go!” Mingi beamed happy his two favorite people were going on a trip. Meanwhile both you and Yunho began to dread the upcoming trip with one another. One was for certain, only one of you would make it back alive.
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amadwinter · 13 days
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Making of Monday - How NOT to Write a Long Fic
Haven't posted one of these in a hot minute! Story time: sometime around 2021, I decided I was sick of having all these ideas for Star Wars fics and never actually writing them. So I decided to buckle down, and write a damn fic.
But of course that didn't happen. What I did instead was try to plot out a long, winding, action-adventure story, and to do that, I decided to study to study from the masters. Or master. I wrote down all the chapter titles for every Lord of the Rings book, and was planning on modeling my story based off a similar pacing.
But of course that didn't happen either. And I realized that I was getting nowhere fast. So, I took out a different piece of paper, and with no plan in place, just started jotting down thoughts.
Warning: terrible formatting and terribly inconsistent handwriting below the cut
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And as you can see, I didn't get far with unconnected ideas before I started planning once more.
Inspired by short fic I had just read, I wanted to write a long fic where a whole and hale Anakin Skywalker shows up on Tatooine some amount of years into exile. Seeing as how this was before the Obi-Wan Kenobi show came out, there was a lot of room for interpretation in canon. I could take ideas from Legends, make theories about what they were going to do with canon (and be extremely right about some of them), and just make shit up whenever I wanted to.
But immediately, I came to a question that I wanted an interesting answer to: where did this new Anakin come from, and how did he get to Tatooine? Time travel is simple, and not where I wanted to go. Something something Sith magic, yeah, whatever. Also not what I wanted to do. But dimension travel? Now, there was an idea.
Of course, because I am a planner, it couldn't be simple, now could it? It couldn't be just hand-wave the Force that caused it. There had to be a real, concrete, series of events that caused Anakin to appear out of thin air.
And thus began the Yeetverse.
A chain of 4 separate universes (plus 1 bonus one for my own torture amusement. And actually now with one more added on later!). A to B to C to D. It's far too complex for baby's first fanfic in a fandom, and yet the ideas would not stop flowing.
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Yes, that was all just written because I couldn't stop thinking about these ideas. It may not seem like a lot, but any brave soul who attempts to read my handwriting can see that there are many things going on at once. (And the only thing I blocked out is the ending to what was meant to be the first fic in this chain, the thrill of the fall)
But for all those ideas, all that planning...
I haven't even finished the first fic I truly tried to write.
I actually have so much of it outlined. I even wrote the outlines of the first 2 chapters of the original fic idea that started it all down on paper.
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But I haven't written more.
Why?
Turns out, I'm not good at writing long fics. Planning them? Yes. Finishing them? Hell no.
It will be 3 years since I came up with these ideas. I haven't given up hope yet that I might actually get around to writing all those fics one day, but one-shots and event fics have drawn my attention away.
Who knows; maybe I'll finally take another shot once I've finished up more of my posted WIPs.
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negative-ease · 4 months
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cast OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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what's the opposite of the boyfriend curse?
gentleman's delight? gentleman's blessing? i tried to write about this a few times but i don't like how it's coming out, so, whatever.
it's about my partner (this sweater is for him) and his infinite patience and support. and seeing all of the bright and shadowy parts and sharp angles of someone and loving all of them because that's what makes up their whole.
anyway, i started making it for his birthday in early 2016. when i put it down, i had the entire back and the front up to the first 3 rows or so of the chart. it was still on the needles. it and all its many skeins and the terrible pattern printout survived close to 8 yrs and 4 moves without issue. miraculously i had taken notes on the pattern about adding 3/4" to the body length. i have no notes about why i did a provisional cast-on for the body pieces, which was a royal pain in the ass to take out this morning. (there is probably a better way but as usual i'd rather spend 25 minutes suffering and muttering than look it up.)
i'm really apprehensive about Finishing School for this one. he's so thrilled that i picked it up again and i really want it to fit and look right. the body pieces are blocking now --
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-- and then i'll sew the shoulders and do a short crew neck collar while the sleeves block. then i plan to review a bunch of my reference books before setting the sleeves and sewing the main seams.
fingers crossed...!
also shoutout to opening to a random page in that kaffee fasset book and being reminded that you can weave ends in as you work instead of doing them all at the end. OMG. i did this for the sleeves and it absolutely saved my sanity. i'm working on creating a really simple chart for an event but other than that i think i'm done with colorwork for awhile...
one more thing. when i was purling the (multi-ply) yarn was twisting the opposite direction which made the pattern look weird (in a bad way unfortunately). luckily the blocking has really helped this a lot but i'm really perplexed because the back, which i did originally, did NOT have this problem. my gauge hasn't changed since 2006 like it's not like i knit differently so what was past mo doing that present mo is not grasping?????
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greenishghostey · 1 year
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Dungeon Master meet Prop Master | part 3
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Drama Club!reader
Summary: The blossoming relationship between you and Eddie was still new but you were both already in too deep. Turns out that your friends love a little romance gossip too.
Warnings: I've decided that this series will be 18+ eventually, so please DO NOT engage or interact if you are underage. More fluff, friendship banter, swearing, a very vague understanding of the US education system.
Word Count: 5,236
Authors Note: So this chapter is a bit more dialogue-heavy and goes into friend group reactions to Eddie and specs' budding relationship and where it will potentially go. This was going to be the first half of one chapter but I felt it was better as a stand-alone piece.
Part 2 /// Part 4 (Coming Soon)
Friday at school was surprisingly busy, with most of your classes hitting the first assignment stage. You loved a long-winded, formulaic piece of homework as much as the next person, but your mind had been busy. Eddie kept your mind so fucking busy. Even your favourite classes were a little bit tuned out by the sound of a boyish snort, metal rings tapping a steering wheel and “specs”. You were in a near-constant state of fluster, removing your glasses to rub your eyes or pinch the bridge of your nose. Your mom had asked if you were sick while eating breakfast. She asked if it was a boy. God, she made it sound so juvenile. You were legally an adult. However, she was right on the money - not like you were going to tell her that.
You had a giggly, schoolgirl crush on a boy who was nice to you. 
But “nice to you” wasn’t doing him enough justice. He was exceptional to you. The closest thing to Eddie’s comfortable presence you could think of was Penny - the person who had been your rock since elementary school. Eddie Munson had achieved that astronomical status within, what, like, 4 hours? 
Fuck, if he actually did have a weird cult thingy going, you might just have to look into joining. Maybe he gave out welcome packages along with the Hellfire shirts. An introductory pamphlet and a complimentary goat skull or something. You could bring snacks to the ritual sacrifices. 
You had a study period before lunch and took the opportunity to be a hermit in the library, trying to power through as much homework as you could in an hour and ten minutes. 
English gave you an essay on The Crucible, which was convenient since you were already knee-deep in annotating the play for prop and set ideas. Colonial melancholy mixed with fire and brimstone was your current plan. Now you just had to add in a few notes about John Proctor’s inner demons and how Arthur Miller was, unfortunately, a “national treasure”. The usual English class spiel that Miss Samson would slap a lovely A or B on. If you found yourself feeling adventurous, you could even pepper in some gender commentary discussion points. 
Woodshop was the only assignment you couldn’t make some progress on from your little library alcove, which was a shame because you were strangely excited about it. The project was simple enough for early in the year, making a small storage box with divided sections inside and a hinged lid. But you had a potential plan for your box if everything went well. 
Eddie had a zip-lock bag to keep spare game dice in. He had shown you the polyhedral cluster fuck of colours while you helped with Hellfire redecorating. It was cute that Eddie had collected so many spare sets just in case someone forgot to bring theirs on a Friday. He explained that he tried to get a wide enough range of designs so that they would work for every class and race - whatever that meant. Such an extensive collection deserved a proper form of storage and display, so you planned to give Eddie, and his club, another donation in the form of a dice box. Originally, you were going to give the box to your mom to keep her funkiest, fanciest jewellery, but your dad beat you to the punch on her birthday. 
Mr Kennedy, your shop teacher, might even let you carve a pattern on the lid too - flames or a skull, something befitting the Hellfire vibe. Mr Ken always liked you because you were interested in his subject rather than seeing it as an easy grade for senior year credits. 
Giving Eddie a gift, regardless of how practical it would be, was maybe a little much. He had already lightly teased you for “donating” aged paper to Hellfire so they could have more immersive maps and in-game documents. But that was friendly and with good intentions - he did really want that brown paper. If he seemed apprehensive, you could easily pass the dice box off as a peace offering from the drama club. From one group of oddballs to another. 
You polished off the introductory paragraph of an essay on the Reconstruction Era. The name Ulysses had stopped looking like a real word after reading it so many times in your History textbook. The bell rang, and you heard shoes squeaking and doors slamming outside the library's silence. You and Penny always met at your locker before heading to the cafeteria, so you made your way through the halls, weaving between hoards of backpacks, denim and school spirit.
In your opinion, the lockers in Hawkins High were pretty shitty real estate. Too narrow, stupid stiff locks, and they always smelled weird. It was unlikely that they were cleaned out properly when the owners graduated. Some crumbs and a sticky stain had welcomed you in freshman year. You were playing Tetris with your textbooks when you heard your name being yelled down the emptying hallway, followed by an icy bellow of, “We need to talk, young lady!” Penny was always really good at projecting to the back of the room. It was one of the main reasons Miss Butler loved her so much. A ginger, permed head came bounding over to you at a rate of knots, skidding to an abrupt stop in her grass-stained tennis shoes.
“I didn’t do anything. You can prove nothing - Shit, are you okay?” You sniggered, watching Penny pant and lean against your open locker door. She must have bolted to you from across campus; her bangs were sticking to her pale powdered forehead. 
“Quit laughing,” she was clutching her side like she was in agony, “I ran from the fucking track field to get here as soon as possible. We need to talk. Now.” Penny straightened up, crossed her arms and fixed you with a stern look. This particular look was reserved for when you forgot to fill her in on gossip or when you stole chips from her during lunch. You hoped she had some of those little pretzel chip pieces in her bag.
“Since when did you know where the track field is?” You joked with a similarly pinched look on your face. It was a mystery as to why she seemed so miffed at you. Ben hadn’t struck out with the costume designer, Lily, again. No one in shop class had narrowly missed losing a finger. The Hawkins gossip pool was rather dry. What a shame.
Penny flapped her hands in your face, “Shush!” She snipped. It was like you’d told her she wouldn’t ever get that Oscar she always dreamed of. Like you had pissed in her cornflakes that very morning. “Munson does business out past the track field.”
Ah. Crap. You should have called her last night after dinner and told her about that. About Eddie and you. Whatever you and Eddie were. Friends? Acquaintances?
You felt your eyes widen, “Oh, forgot you were doing that today. How’d it go?” You asked innocently. As much as you wanted to play dumb, you couldn’t make it convincing. The warmth painted across your face, and your sudden interest in your locker shelf was a dead giveaway. 
“Well, a freaky little birdie asked me if I was “the friend of specs” and called me ‘Pennies’ the entire deal.” The nickname was sort of sweet. It was better than if Eddie had called her Penelope like her parents did. She would have slapped him with the weed baggie if he’d done that. 
“To be fair, a lot of people you know have glasses. Plus, he’s in our grade, even if he’s been around a while. Isn’t he in Home Ec with you?” You knew he was in that class with Penny. She talked about how out of place he looked in an apron with his hair tied back and without his heavy silver rings. Apparently, he was pretty good at cooking and could fix a jammed sewing machine in under a minute. She’d called him a “domestic demon”, in a nice way, of course. Honestly, you had started to wish you had given in to Penny trying to bribe you to take Home Ec with her. A fucking apron. 
“Yeah, and he’s Mrs Collins’ favourite. Now, stop interrupting me. How much do you think he charged me?” Penny pressed. The situation was beginning to feel like a bad cop style interrogation very quickly. You could sense where Penny was going - to be honest, you could read her like a children’s book. 
“You said it was gonna be like 30 bucks, right? Seems reasonable for illegal stuff.” For the ‘weed parties’, $30 was possibly even a bit too generous. Eddie could use a better business plan.
“Yep, that’s what Connor told me. But that’s not what happened.” 
Connor! That was his name. You had been so sure it was Keith for some reason. He looked like a Keith with his product-saturated hair and gym shorts that were too tight to be comfortable. It wasn’t even like he had anything to show off in the shorts. Now, Eddie, you could tell there was something stunning in his dark jeans. If only you’d had gym with him.
“Where are you going with this exactly, Pen? I’m hungry. All the good juice boxes are gonna be gone by now. You’ve stuck me with crappy orange.” You whined. The orange juice they had in the cafeteria was rancid. It was sickly sweet to the point of tasting like children’s medicine. Apple juice was the superior choice, but everyone in the school agreed on that too.
“He charged me 15 bucks! He smiled and was like, “ah, friend of a friend discount, don’t worry about it”.” Penny said in a mimicking voice, her eyebrows were almost in her hairline, and she was a few seconds away from shaking you down for information. 
“Oh.” 
Fuck. Well, now you would have to spill the beans about your wonderful little evening in the drama room. Part of you was itching to talk about it, and you knew that Penny wouldn’t be too judgemental of Eddie. However, you also wanted to keep it to yourself for a little longer. Hold the warmth of your meeting close to your chest and only have Eddie to share it with.
“Yeah. Oh. Firstly, when did you become chummy with Munson? Secondly, what did you do to get a 50% discount!?” 
“You wanna go scream it on the roof? Shut up. He came by the drama room yesterday, and we hit it off, I guess? He’s really sweet and gave me a ride home since it was dark out.” You said, leaning in close and tempted to slap a hand over Penny’s mouth because she was going to start shrieking eventually with this level of gossip.
“…Do we need to clean the room?” Penny grimaced, pulling away from you.
“Ugh! Jesus, Pen!” You swatted at her with your backpack. As if you would soil your beloved drama room. Eddie would have to, at least, take you on a date before you entertained that idea. Like a pay for your dinner and brush hair behind your ear before kissing you sort of date. The fact that that scenario had started to morph into a fantasy was mildly concerning, but it maintained a solid PG-13 rating.
“What? Excuse me for making assumptions based on fifty fucking percent!” Penny exclaimed. Thankfully the hallway was empty, but her voice still echoed off the rows of lockers. 
“We hung out, and that’s all. I swear on your hair.” You huffed. By swearing on Penny’s crazy, fiery mane of hair, she would know you were telling her the truth. You just really loved the hair. “What did you think I’d done anyway?”
“I dunno. Some girls say the other drug dealers around Hawkins asked them to flash their tits for a discount. Thought you might be going through a rebellious phase?” Penny wiggled her eyebrows. God, she really was gunning for you to let loose one day. “He is cute in, like, a funky way. His eyes are the size of my mom’s fancy dinner plates, though; it’s weird.”
You rolled your eyes at her, continuing to sort your locker, “Eddie’s not that kind of guy,” You stated firmly, “besides, you’d get too jealous if someone else got that much of my attention.” Easing the slight tension of the conversation with a little friendly jab. The “cute” comment wasn’t even going to be discussed or acknowledged. Penny huffed and slammed your locker closed once you gathered your lunch. 
The two of you continued the Eddie conversation. Penny needed to know every syllable that you and Eddie had said to each other. She needed to be able to visualise the interior of his van. Any speck of information was not a request but a necessity. As you had hoped, she wasn’t being judgemental in her pestering. Just being a concerned best friend. You had never expressed any real interest in a guy to her in the years you had been best friends - well, any guy that you knew in real life anyway. Robert Downey Jr in ‘Tuff Turf’ awakened something in you when you saw it during winter break. The movie wasn’t all that great, but you had learned that big brown eyes and endearing charm were “your thing”. An educational experience, if nothing else.
The “Eddie territory”, as Penny dubbed it, was new for everyone involved. No threats had been detected so far, but as you stressed to your friend, it had less than 24 hours. The one piece of information that you withheld was the promise of future Thursdays in the drama room. You were the unofficial Hellfire interior decorator now. 
The cafeteria was as you had expected, buzzing with life and smelled like really sad mac and cheese. Your eyes glanced towards the lunch counter and took note of the lack of juice. God damn it. You linked arms with Penny and started navigating your way towards the usual table - a mix of drama club juniors and seniors, their plus ones, and a few other “artsy fartsy” types who needed people to sit with. 
You slid into your usual seat quickly and swung Penny into hers with just a little more force than was necessary. That was for the implied flashing comment earlier. Subtle and immediate karma was a beautiful thing in your friendship. You dug into your sandwich, the chatter of the table fading to background noise in your mind. 
Your head was still unbelievably busy. Not even a turkey sandwich and tomato soup could put you fully back to normal. Penny nudged you with her elbow and pushed a zip-lock bag of pretzel pieces towards you. Like a little peace offering for her dramatics. But then she had to ruin it, “You only get five; I will count. My mom and sister eat them, too, so I can’t bring as many. Meaning you are on rations.” You were in the midst of your first real battle with emotions and hormones, and she was getting stingy with the goods. 
“Can I get the extra salty ones you don’t like?” You asked, blinking at her with your best puppy dog eyes. They were shit, but at least it guaranteed she would give in quickly just to make you stop. “Pleeeease, Penelope. Sweetest Penny-lope.”
Penny shuddered at the use of her full name and the silly nickname you used when you wanted something. It was like she was born as an 80-year-old woman and her parents just went with it. At least “Penny” was a cute nickname, very her. She turned her nose up at you and sighed, “Ugh! Fine, but if you take the kinda burnt ones, you’re not getting that Siouxie cassette back.” 
“Well then, you can kiss that Bon Jovi t-shirt you left in my room goodbye,” You threatened. Your fingers wiggled into the zip-lock bag to gather your pretzel rations as you and Penny dissolved into giggles and snorts. 
Lunch continued much the same after that. You and Penny tended to stay joined at the hip at the lunch table since drama kids were just strange. But it had always been like that. It was you and your beloved Penelope against the world. On the road to Broadway, or at least off-broadway, if you were being realistic. Lily, the club costume guru with the most impressive black springy coils you had ever seen, kept glancing over your shoulder, eventually meeting your gaze. 
You raised your eyebrows in question, mouth full of salty snacks, “Mmmm?” 
“Eddie Munson is, like, trying to stare through the back of your head,” Lily whispered, her blouse almost dipping into the cup of your thermos. 
You didn’t dare turn around. Not because you were embarrassed about people knowing the two of you were kind of friends, but because you would melt into the gross tiled floor if he waved. If the corner of his mouth so much as twitched into a smile, you’d flatline for a few seconds. Due to Lily’s observation, your heart picked up until it pulsed heat through your veins. God, this was the fucking pits.
Lily leaned in a little closer, her voice just above a whisper again, “Is he bothering you? Need me to go say something?” Lily Warren was quite possibly the sweetest girl in your entire grade. But, this was the one time you wouldn’t need her help when it was offered. Part of you wanted to go chat with Eddie, maybe make yourself known to his friends, like he was with yours. Minus the drug dealing, obviously. The distinct bark of his voice rang through the cafeteria, and several people at your table either grimaced, rolled their eyes or scowled in his general direction. It broke your heart to have the evidence that Eddie was like sunshine personified while most people around you loathed his existence. “If he messed with you, I swear to god.”
“No messing, I promise, but thanks, Lils. He came by the drama room yesterday for club stuff. Probably just let his eyes wander and remembered he knew me.” Your reply wasn’t entirely untrue. You didn’t think he had been staring a hole into the back of your skull like Lily had said; his gaze just tended to appear that way. “It’s just Eddie being Eddie.” You hummed, suppressing a smile. However, your heartfelt introspection was short-lived as Penny snorted into her can of Tab. 
-
“Eddie?” Jeff asked, nudging his friend in the rib, trying to pull his attention away from the other side of the cafeteria, “You good, man?” 
“Fabulous,” Eddie mumbled.
Eddie was off in a world of his own. He did that sometimes. It was similar to a robot powering down - his eyes glazed over, he sat straight as a rod and barely moved an inch. But this time, it was different; Eddie was deep in thought, putting all of his attention into a specific spot a few feet away from his seat. The drama club table. Jeff and Eddie had walked to the cafeteria together and were, surprisingly, the first at the table. The freshmen, Dustin and Mike, were probably still trying to get their bearings about the school or were still in that kiss-ass phase with teachers.
Jeff moved in his chair, positioning himself to try and catch a glimpse at what Eddie was honing in on. If it was a person, they could probably feel his stare like a ghost hanging on them. “Whatcha looking at the drama girls for?” There was a smugness in Jeff’s voice - Eddie didn’t appreciate the attitude, even if he was bringing it on himself.
“Glasses girl has a cool sweater. Orange and black are complimentary colours, ya know,” what a bullshit answer. He was losing his edge, and it was all your fault. You had him making up colour theory facts. Black and orange only worked together when it was Halloween - and on you, but that was beside the point. 
Before Jeff could start an entire interrogation, the rest of the Hellfire club members arrived. Gareth and Simon were in the middle of a discussion about which spells Simon’s Cleric, Rothgär would learn once he levelled up - the favourite option so far was Holy Aura, so he could blind enemies with Godly light. Dustin and Mike were trailing behind the older boys, having two conversations at once. One was about the upcoming campaign that evening, and the other was about how much of bitch their chemistry teacher was - Ms Wheaton was quite the battleaxe, Eddie could remember all too well. He and Loise went way back. 
Gareth was the first to notice the uncharacteristic silence from the head of the table. No all-mighty knowledge coming to weigh in on the spell discussion, no greeting, absolutely nothing. Just Eddie looking almost a touch flustered and focusing so hard on his lunch that he was going to burst a blood vessel in his eye. Soon, each of the Hellfire boys noticed Eddie being… not Eddie, expressions morphing into concern and curiosity.
“You guys want a picture or something? An autograph, maybe?” Eddie snapped, taking an aggressive bite of his slightly bruised apple, his face twisting at the sour taste - Granny Smiths, man, he needed to start buying the other green ones. 
“Dude, are you sick?” Gareth asked, “You’re being quiet, and it’s fucking weird.”
“Yeah, usually we can’t get a word in when we sit down,” Dustin pointed out, “you were kinda weird this morning, too, when you picked me up.” 
Eddie had been super weird that morning. In a good way. In a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. His mind was still going a mile a minute because of that clumsy little wave you’d given him. Eddie was a fan of dramatics; anyone within a twenty-mile radius of the guy could see that, plain and simple. But, he never thought he would be in a position where he almost swooned, like some damsel NPC in his campaigns. You being friendly and talking to him like he was a person was pretty damn good, then you had to go and call him a “sweetheart”. His hands hadn’t been that clammy since the middle school talent show before he and the guys went out on stage. 
“You been looking at funky sweater gal all day, huh?” Jeff loved every second of that lunch period. 
“You’re on thin ice, Fulton,” Eddie mumbled, shooting a glare at his friend, who was still basking in his smug glory. That was when the absolute avalanche of questions started. 
“Shit, why didn’t you say, dude! Who is she? She hot?” Gareth immediately honed in on the mention of a girl. A potentially hot girl. Christ, he needed to get laid or just go on a date - something would be better than nothing. A handhold would probably do him a world of good. 
“Since when were you actually into girls around here?” That prodding comment came from Dustin. He was craning his neck in all directions, trying to scope out the women in the room. Like he knew Eddie’s type. Eddie didn’t have a type. “Nice to him” was all the type he needed. “Is there some goth or metal girl that’s new or something?” Dustin whispered to Mike, who shrugged his lanky shoulders. Eddie had slid down in his chair; teenagers were hard work. No wonder parents complained about them all the time.
Simon, the stand-up guy that he was, had decided to busy himself with eating and reading through his campaign notes, sniggering to himself when he re-read a good joke he had made last week - “every warlock requires his war key”. 
“Si?” Eddie poked at Simon’s book, “you get first rolls tonight. Your initiative is 20 from now until 10:30.” He and Simon shared a knowing smile and nodded. Always good to conduct business with him. 
“BULLSHIT!” Mike yelled. He tried to speak with a low bite to his voice, resulting in a wavering crack. Eddie used to do the same thing, thinking it made him cool, so he couldn’t judge the kid too harshly. 
“How is that fair?!” Gareth whined, eyebrows furrowing harshly. He was still trying to scope out the object of Eddie’s interest, though. That information was a teeny tiny bit more critical than Eddie’s piece of shit, made-up rules. 
“Cause I said so and because he isn’t about to go and bug every chick in here to see if I’ve breathed near her!” Eddie barked. 
He could sort of understand Gareth foaming at the mouth. Massive virgin that he was. Jeff just lived for gossip, which explained his enjoyment of the situation. But Dustin and Mike said they had girlfriends - they had no excuses. Were they both raised in a fucking barn? “Besides, there’s no fucking point in keeping it to myself now anyway.” 
Eddie was embarrassed. Eddie never got embarrassed. Especially not in front of his brethren and the underlings. It was just like in his van again, when you were being all cute and cool without even trying. 
“Knew I could wear you down. So, what’s her name? Where’d you meeeeet?” Jeff sang, resting his chin on his palms. If he started batting his long eyelashes at Eddie, he was getting kicked off his chair. 
With your identity about to be revealed, each of the boys turned to face Eddie, eyes wide with curiosity. Their depressing cafeteria macaroni cheese was going to get so soggy.
“In the orange polka dot sweater. Big glasses. She’s the prop girl for the drama club. I went to do Hellfire set up yesterday, and she was still doing drama-y stuff,” Eddie explained, gathering his friends closer so he didn’t announce anything to others in earshot. “To make a long dick short-”
“Dude, ew.” Jeff cringed. 
“To make a long dick short! We hit it off. Like really well. She made that sick prop sword I use as The Sun Strike-“
“Made it?!” Dustin, Mike and Simon gasped. The three of them were the characters putting in the most work to find the sword. Simon’s character was a cleric for the Sun goddess who blessed it, so everything worked out very nicely.
“Quit interrupting! But yeah, that’s what I said too. She handmade all of the weapon props in that one big box. How fucking cool is that?” 
“Is she cool with us using it?” Gareth muttered, a grimace worming its way onto his face. “I asked Janie in my math class for a pen, and she looked like she wanted to slap me.”
“Nah, specs is cool. Actually, she was super psyched that we named it and made it into the legendary slayer of midnight.” Eddie’s Dungeon Master voice began to creep up his vocal cords, “The bearer of brilliant fire. The almighty-“ 
There was a giggle. A little shit type of giggle. “So she’s got a nickname already?” Dustin sniggered, cutting Eddie’s dramatics short. He was having the time of his life seeing Eddie practically swooning over you. 
“Wears glasses, aka specs. Therefore, she’s “specs”. What’s the issue?”
“Nothing, nothing. Forget I said anything,” Dustin mumbled, a goofy little grin plastered across his face as he dug into his lunch. Eddie was used to all eyes being on him at the table - he thrived on the admiration and comradery that came from Hellfire. However, he was not a fan of the teasing. Sure, he would definitely be joining in if it were Jeff, who was into a girl, but this time it was him, so it made him feel flustered. It was uncomfortable being the centre of attention for a fluffy, fuzzy reason.
“Found her!” Mike whisper-yelled, shaking Gareth’s arm so he could laser focus in on you and your dotty sweater. The boys also noticed Penny, who was leaning on your shoulder with a big grin on her face. Gareth could swear he heard angels singing songs about her.
“Damn! She talked to you?” Gareth pressed. He tried to cover up a laugh since he knew Eddie would either kick him under the table or make his character’s life miserable in their session that evening.
“You’re on thin ice too now.” Eddie cursed, crossing his arms, “For your information, I also gave her a ride home. Might want to brush up on your game, Campbell.” 
“She willingly got in your shit box!?” Gareth wasn’t trying to push Eddie’s buttons, but it was almost too much fun. “Aw, she must like you.” Eddie was going to strangle the junior. However, he also wished that Gareth was right - sarcasm be damned. 
“Probably gave the poor girl a heart attack,” Jeff mumbled to Simon, trying to speak quietly under the cafeteria noise so Eddie wouldn’t blow a gasket. 
“Great to finally know what you guys think of me. Really! I’m touched.” Eddie scowled. Only a peppering of malice was in his expression; he knew everyone meant well. Plus, they were right about the van. It was well and truly a shit box. “I bare my soul to you people, and it gets thrown right in my face….” Eddie turned his attention back to his apple, which was now beginning to brown.
Dustin patted Eddie’s shoulder encouragingly. It was a sweet gesture. The teasing chatter had come to an end, but each of the guys still had a small smirk on their faces. It wasn’t every day that they were the ones able to get Eddie all riled up in that playful way that friends do. That brothers in arms do. 
“Eddie,” Dustin said with a genuine smile on his face now, “I saw a girl in that exact sweater putting a note in your locker when I went to the bathroom during History.” The sound of a chair strapping and clattering to the floor rang through the cafeteria - some cheerleaders passing by the table almost jumped out of their scrunchies.
Eddie had a general tendency to move rather sporadically and quickly. He bounced around a lot, mostly to burn off excess energy that usually struck him at around eleven every day. That being said, Eddie felt as though he was nearly breaking the sound barrier while running from the cafeteria to his locker after Dustin finished his sentence.
-
The little scrap of lined paper read, “I hope the set goes down well with your guys today. Let me know everyone’s thoughts on Thursday, please! Meet you at 3:30!” it was signed off with a small doodle of a pair of glasses. 
Eddie quickly glanced around him to make sure that the coast was clear. When it was confirmed, he started drumming his hands rapidly on his locker door. Soon, his entire body joined in on the celebration, and he was cheering through clenched teeth. No one needed to see him looking this type of ridiculous - it would ruin his long-established reputation. 
“Fuck yes, I’ve still got it!” He grinned, thrusting his fists into the air. Eddie was almost dancing his way up and down the hallway. Power sliding on his knees was actually sounding like a fantastic idea. He’d willingly take the friction burn to his kneecaps because you were meeting him on Thursday at 3:30 sharp.
Tag list: @fan-girl-97 @lunatictardis @eddiesprincess86 @kimmi-kat @strangerthings1983fan @moviefreak1205 @becca-alexa
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wcbweblog · 8 months
Text
WELCOME!
WHAT IS ‘WHAT COULD BE WORTH ETERNITY,?
What Could Be Worth Eternity?, or wcbwe for short, is an art/storytelling project of mine! I currently have a comic (very early stage) in-the-works, as well as some writing and other art pieces. In short, wcbwe is what I call the original universe that holds a number of stories and characters I want to share!
OH, SO THIS BLOG IS FOR THAT COMIC?
………not exactly, unfortunately. The comic is still very early in its production, and as the only person working on it, progress is slow going. I think taking the extra time will be worth it in the end, but I’m biased lol. As it stands, this blog is not specifically for the comic in the works, but when I am ready to start posting pages, this is where it’ll happen!
…ALRIGHT. THEN WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS BLOG? WHY THE COUNTDOWN, IF THE BIG PROJECT ISN’T GOING TO BE READY FOR A WHILE?
Wait, countdown? For anyone who doesn’t know, for about two months, I was doing a… daily, countdown on my main blog, and it ended today, 2023.08.28, the day this blog goes up.
To be honest – the countdown wasn’t for this. In fact I’m writing out this lil intro post the day it’s supposed to go up while at work haha! I am incredibly unprepared. The countdown was to something at work (that never ended up happening, to my knowledge), I think we were supposed to do some sort of… media blackout? Like I said, it didn’t happen, so it doesn’t really matter. But, well, a couple of my moots saw the countdown and got curious, and I thought ‘well I should do something on tumblr, too!’. So here we are. Art blog! Yup, this is an art (and sometimes writing) blog centered around the wcbwe universe. Right now the plan is to update every Monday, but that’s subject to change because I have no clue what my uni schedule is yet XD
YEAH YEAH COOL. GO BACK TO THAT COMIC FOR A MINUTE?
Ah yes. The comic. My pride and joy, should I actually manage to stick with the project. Like I said, it’s still very early in its production; only the prologue and first chapter have been scripted, and only half the prologue has been storyboarded. And it’s going to be a very long comic, so that’s not a lot. I’d prefer to have the whole thing, or almost the whole thing, storyboarded before I start making pages. If you want an estimate? I’d say it’ll be about a year or more before I can start posting pages.
OKAY, SO IF YOU WEREN’T PREPARED TO START THIS BLOG, WHY DO IT?
Well, there’s no time like the present! I need somewhere to organize my thoughts and concepts for the universe, story, and characters, and I’m hoping having a dedicated blog might motivate me to sort out my ideas haha.
*INSERT FANCY LIL PROGRESS BAR HERE*
Wow! What was the progress again? Not to worry! I’ll keep the progress updated here :]
scripted up to chapter 4
21/? pages storyboarded
0/? pages completed
IF THIS IS AN ART BLOG, WHAT KIND OF ART WILL YOU BE POSTING?
In short, anything wcbwe related! Digital art, traditional art, short writing things, animations, concept art, storyboard sketches, etc. etc. Anything I make that has to do with the wcbwe universe will end up on here eventually! Not all of it will be Quality Art TM lol
ALRIGHT, BUT WHAT’S THE STORY ABOUT?
I don’t want to get too into spoilers, especially since I don’t have most of the plot ironed out yet. Up until the comic’s production is further along, the main focus here will be on worldbuilding and designs. With that said – you might be able to put together pieces of the plot with the art provided! I’ve got a couple big pieces coming up that have some kinda major spoilers. I just don’t want to actually talk about the plot things until I know what I’m doing. With that in mind, some art might end up getting retconned in the final production. Though, there’ll be a liiiiiiiitle plot sneak peak at the end of this post. Very small :p (it comes with art!)
ASKS ARE WELCOME!
Idk haha, if you’ve got anything to say, or any questions, drop an ask! It might take me some time to answer or I might want to save it for whatever reason, but I’ll answer eventually! Oh – asks are exempt from the Monday Updates btw! I’ll answer them whenever I answer them :3
…oh yeah I should probably mention. C a t s. (also tags are in the. tags-)
Without further ado – welcome to What Could Be Worth Eternity? Let’s dive in.
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Arceli dies.
And then she doesn’t.
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dilf-din · 11 months
Text
Suddenly
Chapter 3: Autumn
Din Djarin x florist!reader
WC: 2800
Warnings: absolutely none, all fluff and domestic cuteness, no use of y/n but reader does have a nickname and is female presenting
A/N: I’m loving writing this little world and sad that there’s only one more chapter planned! As always, inspiration is Venus by Sleeping at Last. Enjoy 💕
Chapter 4
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Like a telescope
I will pull you so close
'Til no space lies in between
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It took longer than anyone originally expected, but your apartment was finally in working order. The innkeeper, Lindi, helped you move all your belongings to the stoop outside, and you were doing your best to haul them across town before the sun was too high in the sky. Once again you found yourself thankful for the scarf, using it to keep your hair from clinging to the sweat on your forehead. On what you thought was your fifth trip, you saw Din waiting outside your shop, leaning on his shoulder against the wall.
When he saw you, he jogged the rest of the distance to take the boxes you had double stacked in your arms.
“Moving day?” he queried, the weight doing nothing to slow him down like it had you.
“Yeah,” you huffed out attempting to regain control of your breathing.
“Is this it?”
“I’ve still got a few trips left,” you panted, hands fumbling around in your pockets in search of your keys. “Here, this way’s quicker,” you nodded your head into the alley, leading him to the back stairs that stopped at a wooden door. A small hand-painted “welcome” sign hung from a single nail. Din’s mouth turned up in a smile. He recognized your writing from the blackboard downstairs.
The door opened to a roomy space. The living room opened into a kitchen on the left end and your bedroom was walled off to the right. You had a sofa and two chairs delivered along with a simple table. A tv was set up in front of the window across from the sofa. There was a long, narrow patio in the very front that ran the length of the living room, it was visible from the window.
“These are just some books,” you directed him towards the bookshelf sitting in the small wall space between the kitchen and bedroom. He set them down gently, and Grogu hopped out from his place in the bag at Din’s hip.
“Hey buddy!” you greeted him, “Need a snack?”
He waddled closer to you as you pulled a bag of dried fruit pieces off of your counter to hand him one by one.
“I can go get the rest of the boxes if you want to start unpacking,” Din said gesturing to the piles of boxes already towering in every corner.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you started.
“I’d be happy to,” he said sincerely.
You gave him a smile as he made his way back out and down the stairs.
“Your dad’s a really nice guy, you know that right?” you said to Grogu as he smacked loudly. He nodded as if he understood exactly what you were saying.
“Buir,” he chirped.
The two of you worked on unpacking everything you had dragged there with you from Naboo. Dishes and cookware, books, and clothes filling most of the boxes, but you had a few stacks of trinkets that you decided would make it feel more like home. Grogu stacked books on the bottom shelf as best as he could while you hung a few paintings. Some figurines your dad had gotten for you on his travels plus a few family photos found their places on the clay shelves above the sofa. Din made the last few trips in no time all, piling everything in neat stacks by door.
“How can I help?” he asked, hands on his hips surveying the room that was admittedly in disarray.
“You’ve done enough, just sit down for a minute,” you urged. You were busy unpacking the last of your pots and pans and stowing them in a low cabinet.
He hesitantly took a seat at your instruction and groaned a little as he sank into the plush chair.
“Can I cook you boys some lunch?”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”
“It’s really no trouble. I have to cook for myself anyway. At least this way I won’t have leftovers,” you smiled.
Din hesitated a beat before answering, “I can’t take my helmet off.”
“That’s okay. I’ll shower and get out of these sweaty clothes to give you some time, I probably smell like a bantha,” you joked.
He chuckled and nodded, “Okay, thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do. Helping someone move is no small feat, much less with that sun beating down,” you grabbed your remote off the counter to turn on some kids’ program for Grogu. He hopped up on the couch and snuggled into Din while you chopped some veggies and greens to make some quick dumplings.
After a few minutes, Din stretched his arms behind his head and got up to take a look around. He ran his gloved fingers over the wooden carvings from your father.
“Is this a dewback?” he asked in picking up the small creature and turning it over in his hands.
“Oh, yeah!”
“I’ve ridden one before.”
Your eyes went wide.
“A friend taught me,” he said fondly, taking note of your expression.
“I’ve never seen one. This is the farthest I’ve traveled,” you commented, flipping over the dumplings to sear on the other side.
“You never left Naboo before?” he asked, closing the distance between you and leaning onto the island. It felt so casual and intimate in contrast to his gleaming armor and blaster peeking out from under his cape.
You shook your head, “No, I always dreamed of traveling, seeing the stars, but our whole family lived on Naboo, so my mother said she didn’t see the point. The ride here was exhilarating,” you said wistfully.
“Is there anywhere you’ve particularly wanted to go?”
“I want to see it all, woods, oceans, deserts. Naboo was beautiful, but I know there’s so much more out there,” you commented, scraping the pan’s contents onto a platter with a small ramequin of sauce for dipping.
“I’ll have to take you one day. Anywhere you want to go, I’ll do it,” he said feigning boldness, but his heart was pounding so hard in his beskar he was afraid you’d be able to hear the dull echo.
You couldn’t help the heat that crept into your cheeks at his words, only doubled by the firm hold of his hands on yours as you passed the dish to him.
“I really like you. THAT. I would really like that,” you stammered. Laughing nervously, you excused yourself to your room. Behind the solace of your closed door, you sank onto your bed with your head in your hands. He was too sharp to not have noticed your slip up, but Maker, how were you supposed to feel? He had spent the better part of a year sweeping you off your feet with kind gestures and gifts and company and lengthy conversations, walking you home almost every evening that he wasn’t away on a hunt. The two of you had stolen small touches here and there, lingering hands on forearms mostly. The one time he had wiped paint off your nose so delicately when he stayed late to help you re-decorate your window display still burned in your mind.
You hoped a shower would clear your head, wash away these feelings you knew were off limits. The slightly cool water felt so good against your sweat heavy skin, rinsing away the sticky layer that had clung to you since early in the day. Having him in your life, even just as a casual companion is something you were more than happy with. You’d have to be careful to stamp out the parts of you that longed for more. His religion, his whole way of life, those weren’t things that allowed you to hope for a future with him.
You stepped out of the shower feeling emotionally and physically exhausted. You noticed the ache in your arms as you ran a towel over your head to roughly dry your hair. You noticed the ache in your heart as your hand reached for the door to re-enter the living room dressed in a matching light grey linen outfit with the scarf hanging loosely around your neck. You took a deep breath and faked a smile sliding the door shut behind you.
“How was it?” you asked taking note of Grogu settled on one of the couch cushions with heavy eyelids and a full belly.
“Delicious, thank you. I’ll have to learn how to make those, he really enjoyed them.”
You smiled while you grabbed the dish you had set aside for yourself, hesitating for a moment as you surveyed the empty seating options. Not wanting to seem off, you chose the seat directly between Din and Grogu. The two of you chatted while you flipped through channels to find something to watch. Grogu was fast asleep by this point, tiny snores erupting from his open mouth. Before you realized it, you were nodding off too, eyes drifting shut and head bobbing unsteadily. You tried to prop your neck on the back of the cushion but found it to be uncomfortable. Din lifted his arm to create a cavity against his chest that your sleep heavy body willingly leaned into.
“Hold on,” he said quietly, shifting quickly to unsnap his chest plate and rest it gently against the table. You felt the warmth of him under your cheek, only separated by his shirt now. The embrace of sleep swallowed you whole in an instant with the comfort of him so close, the smell of gunpowder and leather flooding you, his steady breath, his arm draped around you. You committed each frame of this moment to memory knowing full well you would play it on repeat each night like an old beloved song, familiar, comfortable, full of love.
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The hazy glow of early evening bathed your living room in a dull blue light like a little bit of the sky had leaked in through the window. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting quickly to the dimly lit room. Grogu was still snoring softly, from the position of the sun you could tell that not much time had passed.
“Good morning, mesh’la,” Din’s soft voice teased when he noticed you stirring.
For a moment, you hesitated, the warmth of his embrace holding you in place like gravity itself. The thought of pulling yourself away made your bones feel like lead. He gave no indication of expecting you to move, his body just as relaxed as when you had first curled into it. Steady heartbeat, steady breaths, all caged under the broad chest you found yourself pressed against. Your own senses quickening while your thoughts raced against your heart, the two pounding in your ears. Desire and reason, longing and logic going toe to toe.
Your mind started to drift, wondering what his lips would feel like pressed against your own, whether the palms of his hands were rough with calluses like yours or smooth. You wondered about the shape of his nose and the feel of his hair, whether or not he had a beard. And his eyes, oh his eyes. Surely they were warm like his voice with wrinkles at the edges from all his hidden smiles.
He must’ve felt your heart rate increase from where your chest was connected with his.
“Is something wrong?”
You bolted up not wanting to give yourself away.
“No, no, I was just thinking.”
He brushed his fingers along your shoulder lightly, his arm still outstretched behind you keeping his body open to you should you choose to succumb to the unspoken call of his cells to yours. “What are you thinking about, cyar’ika?” his voice came out low and smooth.
“Things that’ll get me into trouble,” you whispered with a sad smile.
“Tell me,” he almost begged, “I want to hear you say it.”
It felt like a knife in your heart. Was he getting off on torturing you, dangling himself in front of you like a prize you would never have. Surely he wasn’t that cruel, was he? You withdrew farther away from him sinking into your own body and wishing you had a shiny suit of armor to shield your face from him, keep him guessing.
“I overstepped, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” he said standing up and walking to the window to create even more distance between the two of you. The sound of his cape caught in the wind of his quick movement the only perceptible noise in the otherwise dead air, tight with some unnamed tension.
For the second time tonight, you buried your head in your hands.
“Din, what is this? What’s going on with us? Just tell me now because I can’t stand hoping for a future that will never happen,” shocked by your own boldness, you did your best to hold a firm look on your face, afraid that, at any second, your lip would quiver and give you away.
He stood frozen. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was just a statue, a wordless wall of metal reflecting your own insecurities back at you.
“If you’re going to break my heart, just go. Do it now,” your voice wavered, “Because I can’t sit here week after week and wonder what it would be like to kiss you and laugh with you and go to other planets with you knowing you’re just going to end up with some Mandalorian instead of some nameless florist from Naboo.” By this point you had rounded the coffee table to stand face to face with him.
You stood resolute even though inside you were trembling. You wouldn’t break and say anything else until he responded. You stated daggers into his visor waiting for an explanation.
“All this time you thought I was just toying with you because I was bored? Or that this was meaningless? Cyar,ika,” his voice came out like velvet as he took a step closer to you, “I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t my first priority. The reason I’ve been hesitant isn’t because you aren’t a Mandalorian, it isn’t fair to keep you waiting her for me while I’m off hunting for weeks on end. That’s not the life you deserve.”
“I would gladly wait for you, I do. I’d do it over and over again. But I’m still not a part of your creed,” your voice faltered again and you cast your eyes downward.
He took another step closer and tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, “Cyar’ika, I don’t care that you aren’t a part of my creed. That’s who I am, not who you are. You don’t need to be a mirror image of me to catch my eye, you did that all on your own. I can be with people outside of the creed, I can date them, court them, I can even kiss them,” he whispered the last part in a low voice leaning even closer than he was before. The front of his helmet ghosted over your forehead and you closed your eyes in reverence at the nearness.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” you whispered back.
His hands went behind your head to undo the knot of the scarf that hung around your neck. He folded it carefully and your breath hitched when you realized what he was doing as he gently tied it over your eyes. You heard a hiss and a soft sound indicating he had placed his helmet on the cabinet next to you. The soft leather of his gloves cupped your jaw, his thumbs running gently over your cheekbones.
“Ready?” his low voice falling on your ears for the first time without the mask of the modulator, and your knees nearly buckled. You nodded, leaning your cheek farther into the touch of his hand. His lips met yours tentatively, like he was afraid you would break. The two of you exchanged soft kisses for what felt like hours, but in reality was closer to a minute. He nuzzled his nose against yours pressing one final one to your lips before pulling away.
“I don’t stop now I might never.”
“I see no issue with that,” you smiled against his lips drawing a chuckle from him. He released his hold on your face to set his helmet back in place.
“You can open your eyes,” he spoke once again through the modulator. You pulled the scarf off and looked at him wistfully. Your lips swollen from the touch of him, cupids bow slightly irritated from the scratch of his scruff.
“Mesh’la,” he breathed quietly, hand cupping your jaw once more.
“Are you going to tell me what that means?” you smiled raising one eyebrow.
“Beautiful,” he whispered back, tilting his helmet to press against your forehead once more.
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Mando’a translations
Buir: father
Mesh’la: beautiful
Cyar’ika: sweetheart
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Taglist: @harriedandharassed
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bestworstcase · 7 months
Note
Hello! You've mentioned being a NanoWrimo veteran, and I was wondering if you had any advice for planning out your writing for the month? I was going to do an outline beforehand to prepare, but I'm not sure if that's authentic to the NanoWrimo spirit.
i am i’ve been doing nano most years with wildly variable success since i was fourteen. my best advice is:
start writing now.
not your actual nanowrimo project necessarily and not the 1.6k and change daily you’d need to ‘win’ but start writing every day right now. if i’m going into november from a dry spell i like to start with a daily goal of minimum 100-200 words for a week and then at the end of the week, set a new goal of a few hundred more than daily average. rinse repeat until you’re in the habit of writing a decent chunk every day. THE POINT OF THIS is to avoid hitting the “”two week wall“” which is a thing that happens because writing 1.6k+ words in a day is pretty easy but writing 1.6k+ words per day every day for a month is really hard if you don’t, you know. train for it.
you will get the most value out of nanowrimo if you think about it as a writing marathon. it’s difficult because it takes a level of endurance and discipline that you probably do not have unless you’re already a prolific daily writer.
outlining is in the spirit of nanowrimo and has always been part of the culture; some people outline extensively (‘planners’) some don’t (‘pantsers,’ as in writing by the seat of your pants), many fall somewhere in the middle. the only hard rule if you want the, like, pure nanowrimo experience as it was originally conceived is: don’t start writing the actual story until 12:01 AM on november first. you can have anything from zero plan to minutely detailed scene-by-scene notes for the entire novel locked and loaded, but on day one you open a blank document and start writing.
another thing i’d really recommend is trying to write over that 1.6k daily baseline. an extra 340 words per day for five days will net you a free day and those are nice to have in case you hit a day where you can’t write for whatever reason. it’s a lot less stressful to bank up extra words ahead of time than to miss a day or two and have to catch up.
if you don’t already have a process for turning off your inner editor, start trying to figure one out now. the temptation to delete and rewrite a paragraph dozens of times will bite you if you indulge it. try things like hiding your text so you can’t read it (set font and page to the same color, or use wingdings), try sprinting apps like write or die, stuff like that. you are trying to complete a rough draft. it’s okay for it to be rough.
lastly, use the time between now and november to figure out warm ups that work for you. these are quick, simple writing exercises separate from your wip that you do before every writing session. here are some that i like:
set a timer for five minutes and write continuously, stream of conscious, without stopping until the time’s up.
set a timer for five minutes and write a loose synopsis or ramble about the scene you plan to write: what happens, who’s in it, what subplots is it advancing, what pieces of foreshadowing or set up do you need to work in, what’s the emotional tone, etc.
pick an object in the room. spend five minutes describing it in exhaustive but simple detail. think “this cup is a tall red cylinder. it’s made of glass. there’s about a half-inch of clear glass at the bottom. the red is bright and saturated, firetruck red. it’s sitting on my desk with sunlight falling through it, casting a red shadow. there’s water in it with three ice cubes. the cup is about six inches tall.” <- you want a stream-of-conscious list of observations, basically.
use a random [name/setting/plot] generator and write 2-4 paragraphs of something stupid based on the output. just the silliest or most overwrought or edgiest grimdark or saccharine bullshit you can spew out.
take the last five hundred or so words of your last writing session. read them over. open a blank document and transcribe them word-for-word (or nearly, if you can change a word here and there without breaking stride). the idea is not to edit, but to write out a decent chunk of words quickly, without thinking much about what those words are. (i like to do another warmup and then this one and then just keep going when i hit the end of the chunk i’m transcribing.)
the idea is to preempt writer’s block by giving yourself 10-15 minutes of no thoughts head empty rapid-fire word vomit to get your brain on track and ready to go. warming up before your writing sessions will dramatically reduce the frequency of sudden creative paralysis when you sit down to write.
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Text
Fic Roundup!
Febuwhump (@febuwhump) is over, and Bad Things Happen Bingo (@badthingshappenbingo) is nearly complete! Here's a quick roundup of how it went...
Your favourite fic:-
This is probably between I Love You / Sole Survivor which got the biggest reaction on Tumblr, and A Fair Price To Pay which had more love on AO3. They're at the opposite ends of the scale in word count (300 vs nearly 10k) but I guess what they have in common is how much you all love Crosshair and want him to be redeemed :)
My favourite fic:-
Despite it being a massive stress which I barely finished on time, posting at five minutes to midnight, I loved writing Adrenaline Crash! My favourite phrase was 'the crepitus of broken bones' and I was really pleased with the ending where I described Omega 'digging her fingers into the cracks in Hunter's armour' - yes, I meant it literally and metaphorically!
The one I want to write more of:-
There's actually a couple of these fics I want to write epilogues for - Presumed Dead and A Fair Price To Pay are the main ones. But I'd also love to do a rewrite of Human Weapon / Worked Themselves To Exhaustion (also known as the Birthday Cake Fic) with more time to develop my version of the Batch living happily on Pabu, and featuring more of the characters for Omega to interact with!
And now for the stats:-
Total Word Count This Month - approximately 40,000 Longest Fic - A Fair Price To Pay, 9675 words Shortest Fic - Left For Dead, 135 words New Followers - 11! (I'm so excited to have you along and I hope you've enjoyed the stories!)
Future Plans?
I'm going to go write those epilogues, and then it's back to my WIP fic Pieces Of The People We Love! If you enjoyed the Cadet Batch stories I've posted for Febuwhump, this is where to find more of it - Part 3 should be coming soon :) I have three more squares to cross off of my Bad Things Happen Bingo square: Kick Them Whilst They Are Down, Self-Surgery and Going Into Hiding. Got an idea you can donate? Drop me a fic request, because in the short-term I have wrung my imagination dry ^^;
Lastly a huge thank you to everyone who has followed, reblogged, commented, and liked my fiction this past month. Re-reading the tags on the reblogs was great when I was feeling unmotivated, and it's so fun to know you've enjoyed reading my stories as much as I've enjoyed telling them! Thank you for all your support! <3
And a quick summary of everything I've written in the past month:-
Bad Batch - Cadet Batch Day 21 - Unresponsive / Asthma Attack Day 25 - Lightning Strike Day 1 - Helpless / Caught in a Snare Day 14 - Blood-Stained Tiles / Ice Pack Day 24 - "I'm doing this because I care about you" / Victim Blaming
Day 26 - "Help Them" / Compelling Voice
The Bad Batch Day 2 - Solitary Confinement / Bruises Day 4 - Obedience / Conditioning Day 7 - Suffering in Silence / Chronic Illness Day 8 - Found Footage Day 16 - "I love you" / Sole Survivor Day 18 - Too Weak To Move / Bundled Up In Blankets Day 23 - Presumed Dead
Day 5 - Rope Burns / Bound & Gagged Day 12 - Semi-Conscious / Over-the-Shoulder Carry Day 19 - Please Don't / Adrenaline Crash
Day 11 - Time Loop / Cabin Fever Day 27 - Left for Dead Day 28 - "No... not like this" Day 29 - Not Allowed To Die Day 15 - A Fair Price To Pay ("Who did this to you" / Tortured for Information) Day 22 - Human Weapon / Worked Themselves to Exhaustion Bonus BTHB Fic - Elusive: A Stardust Conspiracy Fanfic ("I know you're in there somewhere" fight)
Other/Original Fiction Day 10 - Killing in Self Defence (Mass Effect) Day 9 - Last Words Day 3 - "Bite down on this" / Dissociation Day 20 - Truth Serum Day 13 - "You weren't supposed to get hurt" / Scar to Remember Day 6 - "You lied to me" / Angry Mob Day 17 - Human Shield / Impaled Chest
12 notes · View notes