#edit: i realized that the tone of the text might be a bit.. confusing

[adiluv]

♡ JOHN DOE + PROMPTS 12 / 32. ˚⊹꒷

﹕₊˚ʚ🍫ɞ・[word count] total ─ 1632; prompt 12 ─ 972; prompt 32 ─ 660.

﹕₊˚ʚ🖤ɞ・[warnings] yandere character [technically, no yandere behavior demonstrated], not edited/proofread.

﹕₊˚ʚ🍷ɞ・[adi moment] second part of the event! these prompts were requested by @/arthurswine, and were the ones that i accidentally got all mixed up. i can’t remember if the valley has an airport or not [i tried to look for info but just didn’t find it], and i just assumed it did - please only quote me on that if i’m right - but i hope you enjoy! ꒰ㅅ´ ˘ `꒱

this is a part of my 200 follower / valentine's day event! you can view the event post here!

♡ prompt 12 / long distance. ˚⊹꒷

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Your day is relatively average when your cell phone starts to ring. It’s completely unexpected, too, with you lounging at the gas station’s counter (another slow day, it seems) when your ringtone breaks through the dull humming of the refrigerators. You're shocked to find that the contact displayed on the screen doesn’t belong to Doe, but is instead one for a friend that you were close with outside of the Valley. There’s a soft smile on your face as you tap the accept button and raise the device to your air, but the subtly sweet mood is broken when you hear their panicked voice.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・It’s somewhat difficult to understand what they’re saying, considering how fast their talking and the deeply worried tone in their voice, though you’re able to understand enough for you to decide that you’ll have to temporarily leave the Valley. So, that night, you find yourself sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with your dusty suitcase as you pack in any essential belongings, with Doe watching over the scene with a look of confusion plastered onto his face. Doe would try his best to stay calm while you explain the situation, with his worries being (mostly) dissipated when you emphasize that you’ll only be out of the Valley for a week or two - max. Even if he’s still a bit sad when he realizes that you’ll be gone for Valentine’s Day, he’ll support you wholeheartedly and even try to help you pack.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Sure, it sucks that the plans you two had made are essentially canceled, but there was plenty of time to do something together once you get back. He won’t try and force you to stay, nor would he want you to stay out of your own will (he understands that you have a life outside of him), though you can most certainly expect a lot of clinginess and melting at the airport. He might even try to sneak past security and follow you to the plane so he can have just a bit of extra time with you before you’re gone, though all of his attempts would be much too obvious to succeed. Instead, he just ends up desperately leaning over the barriers and waving like he’d never see you again - a sight that brings red to your cheeks and a slight chuckle to emerge from your throat.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Luckily, the flight itself ends up being mostly uneventful, with the plane only having a small turbulence on the way to your old home. You end up passing out for most of the trip, and you’re greeted by loads upon loads of text messages from Doe when you finally disembark and check your phone. It doesn’t help that his texting style is very broken up and erratic, either, with each sentence being split into at least two or three separate texts. Your friend, who was waiting for you at the airport, is incredibly concerned to see them, and you end up explaining all of the things that happened within the Valley. They start staring at you like you’re crazy before you even finish. A quick facetime with Doe does end up confirming everything, though, and you take the opportunity to introduce him to your friend. It takes some time for them to warm up to each other, but they’re at least acquaintances by the time you hang up.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Oh, and all of those text messages from Doe? They aren’t a one time thing. He’ll text and call you as though it’s his last day on Earth, as if it’s the only chance that he’ll ever have to talk to you for the rest of his days. While it’s incredibly endearing at first, considering the genuine happiness that’s apparent in his tone when you answer his phone calls or respond to his texts, it does start to become a bit too overbearing - more so with the differences in time and the fact that Doe doesn’t have human needs in the same way that you do. You end up having to explain the concepts of different time zones to him, as well as the fact that it’s too overwhelming to be texted every second of the day, both of which being concepts that take some time for him to grasp. Once he understands, however, he’ll do his best to lay off of you a bit, something that you appreciate. He’ll also do his best to take care of the apartment while you're gone (which he does surprisingly well at, considering his messier disposition), and you show him some outside movies and scenery.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・You do something similar of Valentine’s Day itself, taking him all around your old home and showing him all of the different places that you had used to visit. You show him your favorite café, your favorite park, even the old place that you had used to live, all while telling him about the differences between life in and outside of the Valley. His eyes are practically glued to the screen as you walk around, with him musing about how ‘strange’ your world was as he looks on at the different scenes. The decorations sitting in all of the storefronts can’t help but catch his interest, either, and you pick him out a few things to bring home as gifts. Doe also gets you some things for the holiday, all of which ranging from somewhat normal to things that look… Well, bizarre would be an understatement. (His grip on the phone is incredibly shaky due to how excited he is, so it might just be that.) You both end the day by watching some movies and shows until you pass out, and Doe is quick to join once he notices your soft breathing. Maybe not the Valentine’s Day that you were expecting, but it wasn’t all that bad.

♡ prompt 32 / dancing. ˚⊹꒷

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Even though it would be absolutely hilarious for Doe to somehow magically be a good (or, let’s be honest - even decent) dancer, there is no way you could ever even convince me to consider the idea of him not having two left feet. (That statement is metaphorical, but there’s definitely a chance that one of his previous false bodies did actually have two left feet.) Even so, I do also believe that Doe would be incredibly interested in the idea of dancing with you. I mean, it’s romantic, it’s cliché, he’s probably seen it tons of times in rom-coms - of course he’d be interested in doing it with you! And on Valentine’s Day, no less? It would be a dream come true for him!

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・That’s exactly the reason that he practically jumps into your arms the moment that the suggestion leaves your mouth, staring at you with a lovestruck expression and pupils so wide that you can’t even see his trademark yellow sclera. Considering all of the long and honestly underpaid shifts that you’re working at the gas station, the two of you would probably just end up falling over, although it wouldn’t do anything to hinder him in the slightest. Instead, he’d just end up springing back up to his feet and pulling you back up as well, asking what kind of music you’d want to dance to.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Depending on your own personal experiences with dancing, you might find the situation to be a learning situation for the both of you. And, sure, Doe is much more obvious with his confusion about the entire topic, but it’s much easier to excuse him constantly stepping on your feet when you remember that his body isn’t his real one. Besides, he doesn’t say anything when you step on his feet, although you do your best to ignore the fact that it’s not out of politeness and instead out of the fact that he can’t exactly feel it.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・When it comes to his music taste, Doe would genuinely just be fine going along with your preferences. (He’s mostly just happy to have the opportunity to even dance with somebody in the first place, especially somebody that he loves, like you!) Of course, he would indulge you if you really wanted to know. I personally imagine that Doe would prefer softer, almost jazz like songs - ones that sound like they’re from the 1900s. (It’s hard to describe the genre, but think about Frank Sinatra like songs.) I like to think that it would fit, especially when you consider the eldritch-like abilities that he has, and the connection that those kinds of vintage-like songs have to the eldritch genre as a whole.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Truthfully, the worst thing that I could imagine happening (besides the accidental toe stepping) is you bumping your hip into the side of your table a couple of times. Really, dancing with Doe would be a pretty peaceful situation, and you just can’t help but be glad to not worry about something insane happening, moreso when you start to consider just how much manages to happen to you on a day-by-day basis. To be frank, such a peaceful situation was exactly what you needed.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・And luckily, there’s nothing crazy that comes along to ruin your time with him, and you’re totally free to savor the time you two spend dancing around the living room of your barely big enough apartment. Such a totally peaceful situation is incredibly rare to come by within the Valley, and although your time there has managed to get you accustomed to some of the daily weirdness, it’s hard not to notice the extra tension that’s released from your shoulders. You’ve managed to work out some of the bigger mess-ups by the time you’re ready to call in quits, and you and Doe end the dance session by watching TV and leaning into each other. Truthfully, you might just ask him to dance with you some other time.

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#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆ #꒰🧾꒱﹕events ⋆ #john doe game #john doe mortisfox #john doe visual novel #scopophobia studios #mortisfox #john doe #john doe x you #john doe x reader #john doe fanfic

[damianogender]

comment i saw on ig under a post that basically said that both sides are guilty and there are no unbiased sources. i found the highlighted part very helpful as it is informative and easy to grasp so asked the owner for permission to share it.

#the last sentence is also important but i forgot to highlight it #free palestine #palestine #gaza #savesheikhjarrah #gazaunderattack #edit: i realized that the tone of the text might be a bit.. confusing? so id like clarify a few things #this in no way justifies or lifts the blame from israel even a little bit. it just means that this all started bc of england #and englands role doesnt end with what is mentioned in the text. england -and the us- are the ones who birthed & fed this war. they still do #i dont think a holocaust survivor could imagine approving of israels actions. what happaned was imperialist powers inflicted conflict + #between palestinians and newcomer jewish people through lies propaganda etc which eventually started working resulting in the sides getting+ #more and more polarized and radicalized. palestinians didnt want to lose their country & jewish people didnt want to be opressed again. #and when you stop listening to the other side and start believing they want you dead etc you've got a war in your hands #(speaking for the majority of the people) the sides having different religions and cultures didnt help ofc #then you know what happened after that. same as whats happening today like imperialist powers funding and supporting israel etc etc #so maybe when the war first started the israel side wasnt fully zionist and maybe some or majority of them were misguided #but if you are still on israel's side you are a zionist. no exceptions. israel was in no way entitled to that land and they still arent

[beelsnack]

Obey Me! Boys Taking Care of a Sick MC

In honor of me no longer having covid, I decided to write down how I mentally coped with having the plague  some headcanons about our boys and a sick MC. Because I’m all about the hurt/comfort life.

-----

Lucifer: “You should be resting.”

The human scowled. Of course Lucifer was standing guard at the bottom of the staircase.

“I’m just going to get some water,” their voice sounded like sandpaper against wood as they spoke. They felt like the living dead, and judging by the cool stare Lucifer was giving them, they looked it, too.

“No, you’re just going back to bed.” He caught them by the elbow as soon as they were within reach. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water to your room for you.”

“Lucif--” their complaint was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. The force of it made them double over, and they clutched at their chest with one hand while the other went to cover their mouth. Demons couldn’t catch human illnesses, but old habits die hard.

It wasn’t until their lungs stopped trying to eject themselves from their body that they realized that Lucifer had sat them down on the bottom step. He was rubbing slow, soothing circles on their back, a rare look of concern in his dark eyes. “Easy now, my dear,” he murmured as they caught their breath. “You’re shaking, are you chilled?”

“...Just a little,” they wheezed. They must not have sounded very convincing, because Lucifer quickly removed one glove and gently pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.

“Your fever has come back.” In one quick, fluid movement, he had taken the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around them like a blanket. “Go back to bed, now. I’ll bring you water and something to bring your fever down,” he spoke softly, like raising his voice would trigger another coughing fit.

It was too bad they were too sick to appreciate Lucifer’s soft side.

Mammon: “…A’ight, that should be everything.”

Admittedly, he might have gone a bit overboard. But, could you blame him? He’d never nursed a sick human back to health before!

…Okay, so Lucifer may or may not have let Mammon use his credit card to get stuff for them. And he may or may not have taken a few liberties. It was for the human though!

“Mammon, holy shit,” they mumbled, poking their head out from the blanket burrito they had cocooned themselves in. “Is there anything left at the convenience store or did you buy them out?”

“Shut it.” he set the last six-pack of Gatorade (well, the Devildom equivalent of it, anyway) at the foot of their bed. “Ya’ weren’t specific, so I just got one of each!”

Their room looked like a doomsday prepper’s bunker. Cans of soup, a myriad of flavors of instant noodles, a portable heater, the works. Maybe they should have been more specific.

“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mammon sounded vaguely annoyed, but underneath the gruff tone he spoke with, his concern was obvious. They had given him a scare when they first came down with the flu two days ago, temperature so high that they ended up collapsing on their way to RAD. He had been fussing over them since. They weren’t even sure if he had slept.

“...Just one more thing.”

“Yeah?” he perked up like a dog waiting for an order from its master. “Whaddaya need?”

Instead of speaking, they wiggled their arms free of the blankets and held them out. For a moment, Mammon just stared at them in confusion. When what they were asking for finally clicked, his face grew so hot they could use it as a space heater.

“What are you, a little kid?” he grumbled, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as he climbed into the bed with them. They settled themselves against his chest, sighing contentedly. Sleep had taken over in a few heartbeats.

“...Get better soon, you hear?” they didn’t, obviously, and Mammon took the opportunity to gently pat their head, like they so often did for him. “If you’re gonna be all cute and stuff, I want ya to be conscious of it.”

Leviathan: “You know, I really thought you would take longer to go through all of these.”

The human looked like a whole new person compared to the last time Levi had seen them. They were sitting upright, although they looked ready to slide back down into their previous coma-like state any minute, and the number of blankets wrapped around them had been reduced to just one instead of three. They managed to shoot him a weak grin as they handed over the manga he had let them borrow.

As much as Levi loved staying locked away in his inner sanctum, it was only an enjoyable experience if one’s source of entertainment was also locked away with them. And he couldn’t, in hood conscience, let the human die of boredom instead of dying of illness, so he had ventured out of his lair armed with his collector’s edition box set of I’m A Scholarship Student At An Obscenely Rich School and Now I Have To Work Off A Debt Because I Broke A Vase That Belonged To A Host Club!

That had only been a few days ago, but this morning he had gotten a text from them saying that they were finished.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do, Levi.”

“Pretty sure you could have been sleeping, but okay.”

They stuck their tongue out. “I couldn’t put it down.”

“Right?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, clutching the box to his chest like it was worth his weight in gold. Actually, knowing him, he probably paid his weight in gold for it. “I definitely bawled my eyes out at the end. You have to watch the anime next, the music really brings the scene together. And, like, I’m not usually into pastel themes, but the color scheme actually really fits the mood, and - “

Somewhere in the middle of Levi’s overly-excited info dumping, the human’s eyes had slipped closed. By the time Levi realized he was geeking out, their breathing had evened out and they had slumped against the headboard.

…Oh. They looked really cute like that.

“Sheesh, c’mon, normie,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bored you to sleep.”

He set down the box on their nightstand and, very carefully, so he didn’t wake them up, inched them down to lay were laying against the mountain of pillows they had. Once they were settled into a position that wouldn’t give them a crick in their neck, he pulled the blanket up to their chin.

“There,” he nodded to himself. “You rest up, because you and I are going to have an anime marathon, and I won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in the middle of it.”

They mumbled, but otherwise stayed unconscious. Levi had definitely seen this in an anime before. His heart was pounding somewhere around his throat, but he wasn’t getting this opportunity again any time soon. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to their forehead.

“Seriously, get better soon.” he murmured. “I don’t like seeing you sick.”

Satan: His leg was falling asleep.

He had been sitting in the same position for at least an hour, and if it were anyone else he simply would have shoved them off and went about his day. But, how could he push the human away when they were curled up like a kitten in his lap?

They had been complaining about being bored, since they had been too feverish to attend RAD for the past few days. So Satan, always the man with a plan, had arrived in their room ready to binge watch his favorite crime drama. Even though he had seen this show at least eight times, he still found himself getting absolutely sucked into the plot. So much so that he didn’t notice the human starting to nod off until they landed against his side.

“Honestly, you could have just told me you were tired.” he muttered, gently rearranging them so their head was resting in his lap. They made a small noise in their sleep, but otherwise remained unconscious.

It was so rare that the human was still. They seemed to have an endless source of energy, able to be embroiled in all of the shenanigans that tended to happen around the family without absolutely disintegrating. To have them finally at rest, even sick, was quite the treat. Satan couldn’t quit help himself as he reached down to pet their head.

Well, if he was going to be stuck here until they woke up, at least he had a good show to watch.

Asmodeus: “Asmo, I can bathe by myself.”

“Yeah, no, don’t even try it.” Asmo shook his head as he ushered the human into his bedroom. “You passed out in the shower the other day, darling. This is the only time I’m grateful for Mammon’s snooping, because you might still be there if he hadn’t heard you fall.”

They subconsciously touched the sore spot on their shoulder where they had collided with the wall. The pain blended in with the rest of their body aches, but the bruise certainly didn’t.

“Besides,” Asmo sat them down on the chaise lounge. “A nice, hot bath with some quality oils will rejuvenate you like nothing else. Now, go on, strip.”

When they gave him a clearly unamused look, he just laughed. “Not while you’re sick, darling. You know full well being with me requires you to be at peak energy.”

With a sigh, they began peeling themselves out of their days-old pajamas. Admittedly, they did feel like a bath would help them feel a little better. They were pretty sure they read somewhere that the steam from hot water would help clear out all the gunk in their chest. And if anyone knew the intricate rituals of bath time, it was Asmodeus.

While they were stripping, Asmo had made his way over to the Grecian temple that was his bathtub and turned on the tap. After a few moments of running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he stood and began browsing his impressive collection of bath accoutrements. “Hm, let’s see, let’s see…here it is!”

Asmo turned around, holding up the little bottle like he had just found buried treasure. “Eucalyptus, to help clear out the lungs. It’s good for muscle aches, too!”

With a flourish, he put a few drops into the water. “Alright, ready. Can you get in yourself or do you need my help?”

“I’ve got the flu, not the plague, Asmo.”

“You. Fell. In. The. Shower.” he punctuated each word with a poke to their cheek before holding out his hand to help them. Although they grumbled, they were still feeling kind of weak, so they allowed Asmo to pull them up.

“There, now, easy does it,” he spoke softly as he guided them to sit on the edge of the tub. If this were any other situation, they would be painfully aware of the fact that they were completely naked in front of the Avatar of Lust. But, the fragrant steam rising from the water was beginning to ease the ache in their chest, and Asmo’s soft hands had begun massaging their shoulders. They barely even noticed when they were fully seated.

“You’re not coming in?” they murmured sleepily as Asmo sat himself along the edge of the tub. He just laughed.

“Next time, darling. Now, you just relax and let me take care of you.”

Beelzebub: The phrase “don’t have much of an appetite” just didn’t make sense to Beel. How could someone not want to eat? Maybe he was a bit biased, being the ever-starving Avatar of Gluttony, but still. Humans needed lots of nutrients to get better when they were sick, right? He was pretty sure that was what Satan told him.

Beel scowled, scrolling through the eighteenth listicle about foods to eat when sick. Honestly, he was making himself hungry, but he was starting to get the general idea. Looks like he’s making them some soup.

The kitchen was separated into “human” and “demon” sections, after the one time that they almost used cyanide instead of salt. Human cuisine took less time and involved less magic, so Beel knew his way around the human spice cabinet. Making the soup was the easy part, making sure it got to its intended recipient was another matter.

Climbing the stairs to the human’s room felt like a Herculean task, but he did it - mostly. He may have taken a few bites here and there. But he had purposely put more in the bowl than he knew they would be able to eat, so it was fine, right? He knocked on their door twice, listening to them shuffle around before they finally called out weakly that the door was open.

“I brought food.” he said, shutting the door behind him. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”

They poked their head miserably out of the blanket burrito they had wrapped themselves in. A thin sheen of sweat covered their forehead, but they were shaking, which meant their fever hadn’t broken yet. Did humans always take this long to get better? Another question for Satan.

“I’m not really hungry, Beel.” they mumbled, voice thick and gravelly due to the sore throat they had. “You can eat it.”

Shaking his head, Beel sat himself down on the bed beside them. “I had some already.”

“Have some more.”

“No, I made it for you.” his stomach growled, completely undermining his words. “It’s basically just broth, you can drink it.”

They wiggled around for a bit before they managed to extract themselves from the absolute cocoon they had made. “…What kind of broth?”

“Just chicken, I promise.” he laughed. “I wasn’t about to try to get you to eat a Devildom recipe.”

Finally, they got themselves into a sitting position, but even that seemed to wear them out. They flopped against Beel’s shoulder, and he definitely didn’t like how hot their skin felt against his. Their breathing was ragged as they tried to get the energy to sit up.

“Here,” Beel dipped the spoon into the broth. “I’ll help.”

“I’m not a baby…”

“No, but you are really weak.” he replied gently. “Let me help you.”

He could feel the urge to protest vibrating through their body - their independence was definitely an endearing quality of theirs. But, eventually they must have come to the conclusion that a content of tenacity between the two of them was going to take longer than simply waiting out their illness. With a huff, they opened their mouth and let Beel feed them.

“Oh, wow, this is pretty good.”

“I’m a good cook if I don’t eat the ingredients first.”

Belphegor: “I thought humans slept a lot when they got sick.”

The bags under the human’s eyes were almost as intense as they glare they gave him. When the rest of the brothers had begun arguing over something stupid, Belphegor had taken the opportunity to bundle them up and whisk them away to the peace and quiet of the attic. His intent had been to take a nice long nap with them, but apparently their lungs had a different plan.

“We should,” they groaned, sounding like their throat was made of sandpaper. “Every time I feel like I’m going to fall asleep, I start coughing.”

“That sounds counter-intuitive.”

“Tell me about it.”

Belphie rolled over so that he was lying on his side, facing them. “Well then, you picked a good nap partner.”

They blinked blearily up at him. “Why is that?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He reached out, tugging them towards him until they were settled comfortably against his chest with their head tucked beneath his chin. Although he wasn’t the tallest of the brothers, he had enough height to basically surround the human. “Can you hear my heartbeat?”

“I’m too tired for you cheesy lines, Belphie.”

“No, seriously, just listen.”

He could practically hear them roll their eyes, but they quieted down. Once he was sure they were synced up with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump of his heart, he began to work his magic - literally.

He brought his hand up to cup the back of their skull, fingertips tingling as he focused his magic their. They squirmed for a moment before sighing as the cool rush of Belphie’s special brand of sleep magic washed over them.

“I told you, being tired isn’t the prob - “

“Hush,” he murmured, letting them feel his voice rumble through his chest. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Belphie massaged their scalp like he was washing their hair, working his magic into their skin. Slowly but surely he felt them soften, the tightness in their chest easing. Finally, their slightly labored breathing evened out, and the poor human finally succumbed to sleep.

“About time,” he kissed the top of their head. “You need to rest if you want to get better, so let’s sleep as long as we like, okay?”

#seriously I just kept thinking about them taking care of my while I was sick #because even though I was sick I had to take care of my parents when they ended up getting it #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

A Guide to the Best Editions and Translations of Some Classic Literature

TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA BY JULES VERNE

IMPORTANT: Whatever you do, DO NOT BUY the edition translated by Lewis Mercier. In fact, NEVER buy any translation of ANYTHING by Lewis Mercier. Mercier’s translation is unfortunately the most “standard” and popular translation. This translation is said to have removed about 20-25% of the original novel, and also removes a lot of Verne’s original meaning. In short, it was a botched translation that somehow became very popular and accessible up until the 1970′s, but always still check for before buying. Barnes and Noble still has his translation lying around for sale.

If the name of the translator isn’t on the cover or back cover of the book, you can check the first few pages where they write the publication history. It might be in fine print.  Frankly, any translation that is NOT by Lewis Mercier is good. The pictures I have attached here are of the edition I bought published by The Franklin Library. It was translated by Mendor T. Brunetti. It also includes the original illustrations, which is cool.

THE HOLY BIBLE

Oof. This one can get really dicey. But I’ll explain it the best I can.  There have been dozens of translations of the Bible, if not hundreds. Not everyone uses the same one, especially evangelical groups like Pentecostals and Jehovah’s Witnesses. These more radical groups have willingly altered the Bible to further their views. So, a Bible that a Jehovah’s Witness holds is not the same Bible that a Roman Catholic priest holds.  The King James Bible (KJV, or King James Version) has often been considered the most popular version of The Bible throughout modern history. Many of the Bible’s most memorable quotes are directly taken from the King James Bible. It’s considered dignified, poetic, and beautiful. It’s also wrong. So very, very wrong. It’s quite possibly the worst translation of the Bible ever made. I grew up in Catholic school and even there we never once touched the King James Bible. The problems with the King James Bible include certain “theological biases” (i.e. implying Jesus appeared somewhere when he didn’t) and all-around bad translations (i.e. it says there were unicorns but the real meaning is supposed to say “horned beasts”) (see ReligionForBreakfast). The other annoying thing about the King James Bible is that quotation marks are not used. This can be very confusing for readers as it becomes unclear who is speaking.  If you’re curious to see how an exact literal translation of the Bible into English goes, check out the Interlinear Bible. It has the original Hebrew and Greek text with the English words underneath (or besides). You will quickly realize just how complicated translating the Bible is, as Hebrew does not have many words. The English prose in the Interlinear Bible therefore can read like gibberish.

If you want to read the Bible with as close to the original intent and meaning as possible while also being readable, then go for the New American Standard Bible. It can still be a bit difficult to read though. The current popular edition is the New Revised Standard Version. This newer edition from 1989 is considered the most neutral of all translations, as it does not hold any denominational bias. The translators even placed gender-neutral words, such as “people” instead of “mankind”. 

FRANKENSTEIN BY MARY SHELLEY

The original 1818 text by Mary Shelley has been given more spotlight as of late. The text that we are most commonly familiar with from 1831 had the story toned down because of course it would be scandalous for a woman to write about such things at the time. Mary Shelley had suffered critical outrage and pressure for editorial changes from her husband Percy for her original vision. For the 1831 edition, she was forced to edit the novel so that Dr. Frankenstein would be a more moral character, whereas the original Dr. Frankenstein in the 1818 text did not go through much moralizing. 

Penguin Books recently released an affordable edition of the 1818 text.

THE THREE MUSKETEERS BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS

There are numerous translations but I want to highlight the one I read by Richard Pevear. This made the story very readable while also remaining faithful to the story. Pevear didn’t censor Dumas’s original meanings at all like previous translations did for their time. I thoroughly enjoyed his translation and was lucky enough to get the hardcover of his first edition back in the day. My mom completely surprised me by buying that book for me, and it ended up happening to be the best translation. The best thing about Pevear’s edition is that it includes footnotes for archaic terms. The original hardcover of Pevear’s edition is difficult to find by now, but his translation has been re-released by other publishers. As of a few years ago, a new translation by Lawrence Ellsworth has been released. I have not read that one but have heard good things. The publishers of the Ellsworth translation have also been republishing ALL of the Musketeer stories to provide a series of consistent editions, which has always been rare for the Musketeer saga. 

HOMER’S ODYSSEY, ILIAD, and VIRGIL’S AENEID

First off, read these epics in verse form. I cannot believe there are editions out that written in prose form. I’m sorry but that should be illegal. I grew up reading Robert Fagles’ translation, which is pretty damn good and is the standard in schools. However, also look for Richmond Lattimore’s translation. Lattimore translated The Odyssey and The Iliad in the original rhythm that Homer intended. Fagles wrote in freeform for the sake of being easier to read. Both translations retain the original meaning, so it’s up to you really what you prefer. As for The Aeneid (Lattimore only translated Greek classics), go with Fagles.

DON QUIXOTE BY MIGUEL DE CERVANTES

Read the translation by Edith Grossman. That’s all I can say. I devoured that book in days. Grossman did to Don Quixote what Pevear did to The Three Musketeers. It’s just that good and readable. Ormsby is the second-best, being the most scholarly of all translations. The translation is the most accurate but the humor can be dry and doesn’t pack the same punch as Cervantes probably intended. The translations to avoid like the plague are by Motteux, Smollett, and John Phillips. SHERLOCK HOLMES BY SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

Surely, most people reading this have a copy of the Sherlock Holmes tales in one form or another. But which is the best?  Every text out there is the same no matter the publication, but I prefer to read the way it was originally formatted with all the illustrations. The automatic assumption people might have is that all the original Sherlock Holmes stories were published in The Strand Magazine. This wasn’t the case. There were several stories published in other magazines at the time, such as A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four, to name a few. Therefore, if you find an edition boasting to have “all The Strand illustrations” it probably only has the stories that were published in The Strand Magazine. More confusing yet, some editions do say “All the Strand illustrations” but also include A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four.  Keep in mind this magical number: 60 Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote a total of 56 short stories and 4 novels with Sherlock Holmes. If the copy you are holding does not add up to 60 stories, don’t bother. You might get a copy that comes in two or three volumes. 

#onreading #literature #translations #language #languages #mary shelley #bible #Christianity #catholicism #religion #don quixote #jules verne #twenty thousand leagues under the sea #alexandre dumas #frankenstein #the three musketeers #homer #odyssey #iliad #virgil #homer's odyssey #homer's iliad #books #book #classics #classic #classic literature #sherlock holmes #sir arthur conan doyle #reading

[sleepyboieraser]

The Things I Could Never Say Out Loud (Eraser Head x Reserved!F!Reader)

Chapter 1  ||  Chapter 2  ||  Chapter 3

A/N: I also post on Ao3 under the same name. Also, your Hero name is Levia.

Constructive criticism is highly appreciated! I hope you like this chapter!

(Unedited).

Chapter 2: I Stan All Might

     Your clone was still in the faculty room by the time lunch had rolled around. When Aizawa had returned to put his things away, your clone was sitting at your desk playing a game on your computer.

    As soon as the Erasure Hero entered the room, your clone immediately turned off the monitor and approached him. Aizawa made note that of the fact that she kept a somewhat respectful distance this time and didn’t try to grab his arm, as opposed to earlier.

    “So, I may have gotten a little carried away this morning.”

    Aizawa raised an eyebrow, “‘A little’?”

    Your clone rubbed the back of her neck. “Okay, maybe more than a little. But, I was serious about lunch. I promise I won’t touch you anymore.”

    Your clone stared up at the tall man, giving him her best smile. But when his eyes scanned the room, she frowned.

    He was looking for someone.

    Your clone continued to talk despite Aizawa’s wandering eyes, “I won’t say anything weird either, like how…”

    The faculty room door slid open again, a few more teachers entered, but you still had yet to appear.

    “…I’d let you tie me up any time, any where!”

    Cementoss and Snipe both looked in your clone and Aizawa’s direction in confusion, only hearing the last bit of what your clone had said. At this, Aizawa quickly clapped a hand over her mouth and sighed.

    “If I say yes, will you stop? Like, really stop?”

    Your clone nodded feverishly as Aizawa removed his hand from her mouth, her eyes seemed to sparkle.

    “Fine,” Aizawa gruffly agreed, “is there any specific place you wanted to—”

    The man was cut off when your clone suddenly let out a high-pitched squeal.

    “OH MY GOSH!” Your clone’s volume was near comparable to Present Mic whenever he used his Quirk, something that Aizawa didn’t even think was possible. “ALL MIGHT!”

    Aizawa followed your clone’s excited gaze and was surprised to find you standing next to All Might. Your hands were covering your ears as you, once again, glared at your clone. Meanwhile, All Might was looking between you and your clone, just as confused as Aizawa had been.

    “And here I thought Mic was joking,” All Might eyed your clone, taking in her excited expression.

    “I still can’t believe you’re actually here!” Your clone gushed, “I mean, I know you’re like a teacher and everything, but it’s still just so unbelievable!”

    “(Y/N)—” All Might started.

    “Call me Levia.” Your clone said cheerfully, though there an underlying firmness in her tone, “I find it annoying that the narrator keeps referring to me as ‘your clone’.”

    All Might blinked. “Err, okay? Levia, I didn’t realize you were a fan.”

    “Are you kidding? I’ve been a fan practically since the day I was born!”

    As Levia continued to fawn over the astonished All Might, you managed to sneak your way over to your desk. You set down your papers and turned your computer’s monitor on, wanting to get some work done during your lunch period… only to be immediately met with a high resolution picture of a shirtless anime character that looked suspiciously a lot like Aizawa.

    The text box underneath the character read,

MY FUTURE HUSBAND, SHOUTA ❤️❤️❤️:

Looks like you’ve been a naughty girl. I guess I should punish you, but you’re such a cute little masochist. I think you’d actually enjoy that, wouldn’t you?

    You heard a whistle coming from behind you.

    “Dang, (Y/N)!” Present Mic said with a grin. “What kind of games are you playing?”

    “Please keep your personal games at home.” Ectoplasm, whose desk was right beside yours, chided.

    It took everything in you to not rip the monitor off the desk and chuck it at Levia, who was still fangirling over All Might.

    “Hey, Eraser!” Present Mic called out. “Come take a look at this!”

    Okay, so maybe Levia wasn’t the only one you wanted to throw your computer at.

    While you scrambled to exit out of the game, Levia continued to praise All Might who, at some point transformed into his bulky heroic form, only seemed to bask in the former’s compliments.

    “I even have the limited edition pyjama set from your Young Age!”

    “Well as a super fan, that’s to be expected!” All Might laughed haughtily.

    Aizawa, having decided that Levia changed her mind about lunch, was about to leave the room. Maybe he could find an empty classroom to take a nap in.

    “And get this, I even have the super, ultra rare lingerie set from your Bronze Age!”

    All Might froze mid-laugh.

    “Though technically not ‘official’ merch, it was this huge thing at the time.” Levia explained nonchalantly, waving her hand. “It’s even considered a collector’s item! Man, the one time I don’t have it on me!”

    “That’s a shame,” All Might laughed awkwardly, though internally he was relieved, “I would’ve signed it!”

    A joke. Clearly a joke. But Levia visibly perked up.

    “Really? You still can!”

    “But, I thought you said you weren’t wearing it?”

    “Oh, I’m not.” Levia smiled sweetly at him, then pointed at you. “But she is!”

    Had Aizawa been eating or drinking anything, he would’ve spit it out immediately because, what. The. Fuck.

    “(Y/N),” he noticed the flushed look on your face as your eyes darted from your computer screen to his. What were you even looking at? “Are you really wearing All Might lingerie right now?”

    Your mouth opened, but no words came out. It suddenly dawned on you that everyone in the room was staring at you, including Levia who wore a smug expression.

    That bitch. You thought to yourself.

    You didn’t know which was weirder: the fact that nearly all the UA teachers now knew that you owned (and wore) All Might lingerie, or that you technically called yourself a ‘bitch’.

    You felt the blood rush to your face as a blush began to form.

    “I…well, um…” was all the confirmation Aizawa needed.

    Too many people were staring at you. Your stomach rumbled, though you couldn’t tell if it was from hunger or from the uncomfortable feeling of being stared at. The more you thought about it, the more nauseous you felt.

    “Please excuse me,” you muttered quietly as you ran out of the room, the game on your computer screen instantly forgotten.

    The room was quiet for a moment before Levia started blathering on about All Might again. “You’re so cool, All Might!”

    Realizing that Levia was nowhere near done praising All Might, Aizawa walked out of the room. If he was lucky, he could squeeze in a short nap with the time he had left of the lunch period.

    “You’re almost as cool as Shouta!” He heard Levia exclaim, no doubt unaware of the unintentional insult.

    Sure enough, he could hear a ‘poof’ followed by the sounds of All Might violently hacking a cough. Aizawa tugged his scarf up, hiding the small smile that formed on his face as he walked away.

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#shouta aizawa x reader #eraserhead x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #eraserhead #aizawa #reader insert

[imaginethatneathuh]

Warm (Cold P3): Technical Boy - American Gods

Third part of Cold and Cool. The last part, too.

Edited by the amazing and ever talented @dragon430. I immensely appreciate everything. She really pulled this one through (blame her for the length).

Word count: 5.2+ K

I- I tried. I’m not good at writing this kinda stuff.

Warnings: Arguing, fluff, angst, apologies.

•

What was he doing? He shouldn't be here, not in the slightest. He should not be here. Especially, if he wanted to save his dignity.

Technical Boy’s frantic tapping on the steering wheel of one of his cars was the only noise heard.

It wasn't the limo. He couldn't stand being in there without you. It felt… wrong, cold even.

Your apartment complex was right there. Directly next to him, and he could so easily just go inside. He still had the key you'd given him. You'd probably forgotten he had it as he rarely used it. That’s probably why you hadn't asked for it back. That or because you didn’t want to see him or talk to him at all.

That was a far more terrifying thought than any other he’d come up with.

To his right sat an old sweater of yours. Its age showed in the stains and rubbed off text on the tag.

You left it at his place one day. He, occasionally, kept it with him as a small reminder of you when he couldn't see you for a while. Over the past few weeks, he had slept with it several times, your scent calming his raging mind. What could he say; the idiot missed you.

Now, you were leaving for a wedding, a wedding in another country.

The god couldn't leave the states. He'd disappear if he tried. His only hope was that you hadn't packed and left for the airport already. Before you left, he wanted to see you again. He wanted, no, needed to say goodbye.

No. That’s too desperate.

He wanted to give you your sweater back.

Yeah. That's better. If he told you that, maybe he wouldn't have to say it.

Wouldn't have to say goodbye. Wouldn't have to accept that you might not come back. He could live in his own made-up world, one where you were still there, and the two of you were happy.

He knew you had been thinking about it. About staying gone, that is.

He couldn't stomach the thought of never seeing you again. He’d even be okay with you hating him forever as long as you stayed where he could see you. You had become the one person he never wanted to chase away, but he'd fucked that up, and now all you wanted to do was get away as fast as possible.

Looking at the apartment complex, Technical Boy bit his lip, the flesh raw from his gnawing. And he could already feel the pool of tears collecting in his eyes. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want you to see him like this. Didn't want weakness to be the first thing you think of when you see him.

But he’s never been so overcome with emotion. You did things to him. Some of those things he liked. Like how you were able to push away all his worries with a smile or how you could alleviate all his tension with a gentle touch. But, now, he hated it. All he felt now was the undeniable, ever potent feeling of loneliness.

•

Quietly, you tucked your toiletries into your suitcase. Patting the bag lightly, you sighed.

It would be the one, sure-fire way you wouldn't have to see him again. It'd be easier for you. No caving if he came to you, asked you to come back to him, to deal with him again. No, you weren't going to. No matter what.

That's what you told yourself, repeatedly.

If you left and didn't come back, sure, that'd be hard and you'd have to figure how to become a citizen but then you wouldn't have to see him. You wouldn't give in to Technical Boy's demands. If he ever decided you were worth his time.

It had been weeks, so that wasn't likely. Still, the thought stayed with you.

You sighed again and shuffled to your dresser.

In your heart, you wished he did want you and he cared about you but your brain told your heart to shut up. Said it was impossible and to move on.

A knock was heard from your door, the sound resonating through empty halls. Confused, as you weren't expecting anyone, you walked out of your room and to the door.

•

The young god breathed heavily and tapped his foot nervously. and bit his lip.

'Come on,' he thought to himself. 'Come on. Come the fuck on. All you gotta do is hand them the sweater back. That's all you need. That way, you know they're okay, and we can get on with our life. And- and they can, too.'

He wanted to be more than that. Much more.

The god wanted to be with you again. To treat you better than he had before. He wanted to show you his love.

Quietly, he swore to himself that if you gave him a second chance, he'd take you wherever you wanted. A 5-star restaurant with cuisine from all around the world made by the best chefs the US had to offer? Done. A trip to Hawaii to swim with the animals and go scuba diving? When do you want to leave? Mountain climbing in Alaska? He’ll get the gear. A romantic night out, ending at your place or his, maybe even a super expensive hotel for the hell of it? As long as it was what you wanted. He’d let you pull him under the stars for a night, as long as you smiled. Even if you just wanted to relax at home with him, he’d do it. He’d power down his phone and take care of you until you fell asleep. If you asked, he’d rub your feet or give you a massage. As long as, by the time you slept, you were relaxed, he’d count it as a win. As long as you were happy, he’d do anything. He’d treat you as he should have in the first place, like a monarch.

He had been so cold and cruel to you before. The god had gotten so used to pushing everyone away that he did it to you, too. The walls he built around himself, the technological armour, prevented the one person in the world he wanted to lower the drawbridge from being able to get across the moat. The white lies he told to keep you with him for as long as he could, the yelling and ranting for hours on end, the never asking about YOU because he already knew everything.  They all did more harm than good, the yelling in particular. Now, he would make sure to do better. To be better for you. No more lies of any sort. He’d tone down the rants and find other ways to get out his anger. And, of course, he’d make sure to ask about you and how you were doing rather than assuming or ignoring. He’d let you in, too. Properly this time, not just in the forms of rants and yelling. Anything you wanted answered, even the stuff he was afraid to describe, he would tell you. The god wanted a relationship that worked not what the two of you had before. He never wanted to lose you again. If you gave him the chance to fix your relationship, he would, and he would keep it that way if you did, too.

To get you back, he would even beg. Hell, he already wanted to beg you to come back after the wedding and try again. Maybe even beg you to not go at all. The worst thought crossed his mind, though, was to not even beg at all, but to take you and hide you away so you could never leave him again.

Then he grew disgusted with himself. That was not the way to earn your affection. That was the way to making you hate him forever, something he might have accidentally done already.

Not to mention, there wouldn't be a point in kidnapping you if you didn't still care for him. All he wanted was your love, and taking you against your will wouldn’t get him that. He had to try to earn you back. That was the only way. So begging it is.

Ew. he couldn’t help but grimace at the thought. It wasn’t his preferred method, but if it got you to stay, he’d do it. He’d risk his dignity if it meant getting you back.

As the door opened, Technical Boy froze in place.

You. he knew you’d answer since you lived alone, but now you were right there, in front of him. And you looked perfect.

To be fair, he always thought you did. But, now, after not seeing you in far too long, you looked like the morning sun after a long night of darkness… absolutely stunning.

All previous thoughts were gone as he just stared at you. Your presence left him speechless, and everyone who knows him knows that’s a hard thing to accomplish.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, annoyance and anger lacing your words.

He noticed your defensive stance, something that made him gulp.

Unable to stop himself, he let the words leave his lips.

"Can we talk?" His voice grew in a near whisper, afraid that if he got any louder his voice would betray him. Hell, maybe it had already and he didn't realize it.

•

All you could think about was how small he sounded. Not weak, just scared. Like he didn't trust himself to speak. You had never seen him like this before.

The powerful god shrunk in on himself and looked down. He wasn’t able to meet your gaze, and you didn’t know whether to hate it or like it.

"I'm leaving for the airport soon," you said.

He nodded. "I know. For your cousin's wedding." After giving him a questioning look, he said, "You talked about it a few days before you--" he swallowed hard. "--before you left."

You took a wavering breath. It was hard to think about. The day you left him was difficult for both of you. And as great as it felt walking away, you collapsed as soon as you got home.

You were alone and the weight of your decision was a heavy one. Cutting off such a huge piece of your life terrified you then and still does. Now, you were a bit more confident and comfortable with yourself. You wouldn't let him hurt you again.

Even if he did seem like a wreck. For all you knew, he could be faking it. But, after you looked him over, there was no way he could be.

If you took the voice out of the equation, Technical Boy, a supposedly powerful god, looked like he was on the verge of tears, his eyes shining with them. His clothes, unlike what you had seen before, were plain black. And his hair lay free around his shoulders, splayed out and messy like it hadn’t been taken care of recently. That had never happened as long as you had known him. He never let his hair down nor wore plain clothes.

It hurt to see him like this. AS much as you hated to admit it. Desperation and sadness were not good looks on him. It was odd, unnatural, for him to be like this.

"Y/N, can we please talk? I- I really need to talk to you. Please?" He asked, quietly hating how needy he sounded.

"You wanna talk now?" You scoffed. It may have come out harsher than intended, but it was definitely the tone you needed. "Now? After weeks of silence? After weeks of wondering if you even noticed? If you ever cared at all? Now, when I'm about to leave, is when you wanna talk?"

Technical Boy's mouth opened. But he closed it before he said anything, his gaze downcast. He shuffled forward, seeming cautious with his actions. "Can we not do this in the hall?"

You rolled your eyes, sniffling. Looking up, you tried to blink the tears away. "Go away. You've hurt me enough."

With that, you tried to shut the door.

His hand stopped it.

You didn't even try to resist it. It's not like you actually wanted him to go, but you also didn't want him to see you cry. Didn’t want him to see how much you were hurting.

"I know." His eyes met yours for the first time since you, stupidly, opened the door.

Those beautiful, baby blues that always seemed to storm and glow like they captured lightning. The ones that were always alive, always looking for a fight, now were dead. They looked like they had been beaten so black and blue they decided to just switch off like an old computer. It's like the world wasn't worth existing in.

Despite yourself, you pitied him. He was a god. You had seen him at work, seen his true skin, his true self. He was a powerhouse. To see him so defeated and broken by you, a very human and very mortal individual saddened you.

You fully opened the door. "You have five minutes," you said, turning your back to him and walking inside so he didn’t see the tear that rolled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away and sniffed. "This had better be good."

•

He stepped into your apartment, following you like a ghost. The sweater in his hands served well as something to pick at as his heart pounded in his chest.

Honestly, he didn't think he'd get this far. He thought you'd slam the door in his face immediately. The god counted himself lucky.

He trailed after you to your room as you continued packing. "Y/N?" He asked, softly.

"What?"

"I brought this back." Technical Boy gently set the sweater on your bed. "Thought you might want it back. You, um, you left it at my place a while ago."

The soft fabric always felt strange in his hands. Like it wasn't really there even though it was. It felt wrong not covering you like it was supposed to. It made him feel weird.

You, on the other hand, loved it. The fabric comforted you even on your worst days when the world felt like too much or not enough.

Your hands brushed over the fabric. Softening eyes analyzed the stains like you were double-checking it was yours. Slowly, you brought it to your chest and smiled.

"You had it?" You asked. "I thought you'd thrown it away."

Technical Boy looked away from you, rubbing his neck. "No, I kept it. It reminded me of you."

You walked over and pushed him.

It wasn't forceful enough to make him fall but enough to know you were upset.

"Why would you keep it? Especially after I freaked out about it."

He shrugged, kicking at the floor. The push felt like nothing and he knew he deserved it.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "Because you love it, I guess. You never really left anything behind 'cept for that. I wanted to, I don't know, hang onto you when we couldn’t see each other."

As he spoke, his voice became quieter and quieter like he was afraid to say it.

You turned away from him and refolded your sweater. "You can't fold for your life, just so you know," you said, trying to hide your feelings in the joke.

He lightly chuckled.

As you slipped the sweater into your suitcase, he pulled you away from it. "Can we talk face-to-face? That's why I came here. I just, want to get what I have to say out. Then, I'll leave."

Scowling, you sat on your bed, arms folded. "Talk."

"I'm sorry," he said, watching for a reaction. You didn't give one, much to his disappointment. "For hurting you. For making you feel like I didn't care. For not showing you I cared. For, well, for everything. I'm sorry for being a complete and utter dick to you." You snorted at that. It was true, but a severe understatement.

"I hurt you, I know that, and I am so fucking sorry." The tears that had been threatening to spill for what felt like ages finally fell from his eyes. But he quickly wiped them away. "Y/N, you are the most important person in the world to me. I'd do anything if it meant making you happy. If it meant keeping you safe, I'd gladly let myself die. I’d gladly kill whoever hurt you."

You bit your lip, gaze downcast, unsure of how to respond. Your tears threaten you at knifepoint, wanting so badly to spill over, but you wouldn’t let them. You didn’t him to see how his words affected you.

He took your silence as a sign for him to continue. "And if it meant getting you back, or at least having the chance to, I'd get on my knees and I'd beg. I'd beg you to forgive me." A god begging. Who knew? "No. I am begging you. Y/N, please, please give me another chance."

"I'm still going--" You tried to say something.

He interjected. "I know. I can't stop you from leaving the country. This is for your cousin's wedding for fuck's sake. You should go. But please, please come back."

He watched you for the longest time, hoping for some sort of reaction.

You just stared at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

Silently, he pulled his keyring from his pocket. The keys jangling against each other as he pulled one of them off.

Technical Boy took one of your hands, his own shaking slightly. He placed the apartment key into your hand and closed it. His hands still cradled yours gently.

"I really am sorry. I hope one day you can forgive me."

His heart hung heavy. Pain, more forceful than anything he’d felt before, flooded through him. Rejection is a tough pill to swallow. Wiping away fallen tears, he sniffled and began to walk out of the room.

"Drive me to the airport," you said, still sitting.

He turned, lips parted in surprise.

You looked up, eyes meeting his, with a mix of sadness, love, and determination.

"Okay." He nodded.

Did you really want to do that to him? Force him to say goodbye? Make him drive you to the place that would take you away from him? Break his heart like that?

Technical Boy thought it was only fair. He broke you, now you break him, tit for tat.

•

The key burned in your pocket. It had made its mark on your hand, too. A part of you wanted him to keep it, so neither of you would ever really have to say goodbye. The fact that he was ready to say goodbye, that he was okay with it, hurt. But it felt nice. Knowing he cared but was okay with saying goodbye if it was what you wanted.

Sitting in the car, an older one without all the bells and whistles, felt strange.

You weren't used to it. When he "drove", it was usually in the limo, so the two of you were in the back, a windowless back with no way to know what time it was. But, now, you could look out the window and watch as the world rushed by.

If you were in the limo, Technical Boy could keep it driving until you missed your flight. You wouldn't know until you left the cold car.

Now, despite the memory of the chilly limo, you missed the thing. In it, you got the feeling you get when you’ve been in the shower for a while and forgot what time was, the distant feeling of knowing it’s later but no knowing how much later. You yearned for those feelings and the brightness of the limo. It was familiar and safe.

Technical Boy's eyes stayed trained on the road as he tapped his fingers nervously against the steering wheel. Maybe he wasn't really ready to say goodbye either.

"Why didn't you bring the limo?" You asked the question plaguing your mind.

The god glanced at you. He swallowed hard and shifted in his seat. "Didn't feel right being in there without you."

Your heart swelled at that.

He turned the blinker on and got into the far-right lane.

You nodded in response. It’s all you could do.

•

The airport was packed with people bustling about. Loud voices from the intercom sounded with static and told people what was going on.

Technical Boy felt uncomfortable. This was not his domain. The others, the planes, this was a part of them. He shouldn't be here without a good, godly purpose.

But there he stood, the most important person in the world to him about to leave him forever with no god connection in sight.

Noticing his hesitancy, you gently took his wrist and walked with him inside the building. You weren’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

He patiently waited as you got your boarding pass. The god watched you smile and nod.

Oh, how he adored that smile. His only wish was that you'd smile at him again. Because of him. Not a polite smile, but a real one. He yearned for it.

Walking over, you set your suitcase beside you. "Thanks for the ride," you said, not meeting his gaze.

He nodded. "Yeah. Of course." He swallowed hard, breath shuttering slightly. "I suppose this is where we part ways, then.”

"Our final goodbye."

You can’t take it anymore. Unable to stop yourself, you let yourself seek those beautiful blues. If this was to be the last time you’d see each other, then you might as well take it all in while you could.

The two of you stayed quiet, gazing into each other's eyes.

Finally, your will broke, and you step forward. "But this doesn't have to be. We- we don't have to."

His eyebrows scrunched up. "I thought--"

"I want to come back." You interrupted, the ‘to you’ laced in your meaning.

Quietly, as he did earlier, your hand drifted to your pocket and pulled out a key, the key to your apartment. Taking his hand, you placed it on his palm and closed it.

Neither of you said anything, but you both understood. With not a second to spare, the call came for your plane.

You began to walk away, taking your suitcase with you.

Breathing heavily, he called after you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. His wonder-filled eyes quietly told you everything he was thinking.

"I- I lo--" He couldn't seem to get the words out. No matter how badly he needed to say them, his lips wouldn’t form the syllables.

For the first time, you really felt it. You felt how much he loved you. It wasn't fake or a lie. It was real.

You cupped his cheek and beamed. "I know," you said, gently. "I do, too. Always have."

Pulling away, you walked to where you were going to board.

The god let a giant smile spread over his face. You cared about-- No, you loved him. Nothing in the world could take that away. Nothing could sour his mood at that moment.

His gaze fell to the key in his hand. Where, before, when he looked at it, there was this never-ending pain in his heart, now, an overwhelming joy took its place.

You loved him, too. That's all that mattered.

Even if there was rising anxiety over the plane and all the ways it could end up crashing. But, plane crashes had a one in 11 million chance of happening. Hopefully, you wouldn't be that one.

•

You shut the apartment door with your heel, pushing your suitcase in front of you. You missed your comfy home in the short time you were gone. And the warmth of the space made you sigh in content. But what made you smile was Technical Boy mopping the kitchen floor.

You had only been gone a week and a few days, and he had already made himself relatively comfortable and familiar.

"Planning on living here if I didn't come back?" You asked.

His head shot up, and his face erupts in a grin. "Y/N!"

He reminded you of a puppy greeting its owner after they were gone all day. It was cute, almost to the point of being criminal.

He checked his phone and scowled. "Shit." He looked back up. "I had planned on picking you up. I'm sorry."

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't worry, I got a taxi."

You sat your suitcase on the sofa and rolled your neck, trying to ease out the cramps and aches.

"How was the wedding?" He asked, setting the mop back in the bucket.

"It was a wedding." Looking around, you found your home practically deep cleaned. "What's all this about? It looks like Mr Clean came through with a vengeance and a taste for germs."

Technical Boy laughed, his dimples and diastema showing. The cute gap between his teeth was ever endearing and you always thought the sight was adorable paired with his dimples.

Rarely did you see him truly smile. Not a pained one or a sarcastic one, but a real smile. One that reminded you why you put up with him in the first place.

"I wanted to surprise you," he said, shrugging. "Oh! That reminds me." He took your hand and guided you to the fridge. "I was planning on ordering dinner before I went to go get you, but I can do that later." He tapped the freezer door with his knuckle. "Open it."

You looked between him and the freezer, not sure if you should trust him.

"Please?"

Succumbing to your curiosity, you acted as Pandora and opened the box.

He watched as your eyes lit up at the sight of your favourite dessert.

You looked at him, grinning. "Really?"

He nodded. "I figured, I got a long way to go before I'm totally back in your good graces, so why not bribe you a little? Besides, you know I'd do anything to make you happy. Even have dessert before dinner."

You took it out, your smile growing bigger at his thoughtfulness. The amount of love you felt in this moment could rival all that Venus herself possessed.

"Thank you," you said."Now I feel bad. All I got you was a ring."

"You got me something?" Disbelief rang in his voice.

Setting the dessert on the counter, you pulled out a wooden box and handed it to him. "I saw it at a shop and thought of you."

“Are you planning to propose? We’ve haven’t been together that long.”

His joke made you roll your eyes in playful annoyance. “Open it.”

Inside was a ring made of gold and copper etched with the typical tech aesthetic design. Examining it closer, Technical Boy looked inside of the band. It looked like tiny “wires” braided together with TB & Y/F/I Y/L/I engraved into the faux wirework 

He gently rubbed the ring and smiled, his eyes twinkling with a new light they were missing when you left. "Something tells me this was a little more custom made than that.” He smirked, looking up at you coyly.

You just shrugged in response, not wanting him to know all the effort it took to get that specific design made.

"It's amazing, Y/N. Thank you." He slipped it onto his finger and rubbed it affectionately. "It's fucking perfect."

The two of you just smiled and gazed into each other's eyes. You now had the time to take in every part of each other. You couldn’t help but get lost in it.

•

The two of you spent the evening talking and eating. You talked about anything and everything, especially about boundaries and what you expected of each other in the future. Eventually, that conversation led to the most random of things. Like how often rabbits procreate and the plural form of ‘uterus’ (it's uteruses, by the way).You realized that once you actually talked with each other, with no walls up, the conversation felt natural and normal like you’d been doing it for years.

As time ticked on, Technical Boy checked his phone out of habit. "Fuck," he mumbled. "It's late. I should probably let you get some sleep."

"No."

He frowned, confused.

That wasn't supposed to be out loud but you didn't want him to go. Not just yet, not after you’d just been so open with each other. You’d never felt so known by him before. And it wasn’t something you were going to let go of anytime soon.

"I mean, why don't you stay over for the night? If you want to," you said, quickly recovering from the outburst.

He nodded. "Okay, yeah, I can take the sofa."

That’s not even close to what you wanted. "Why not just sleep with me in my bed? It's a lot more comfortable than the sofa."

A splash of pink grew over his usually fair cheeks. "Really? You're okay with that?"

You laughed. "I wouldn't have said you could if I wasn't."

He looked down, grinning before looking back up. "Okay, yeah, let's do that then. That sounds nice."

•

The muffled sounds of the bugs outside and the warmth of your room was an oddly relaxing mix. One that you wouldn’t normally think of as peaceful, but it did well to lull you into a tate of sleepiness.

Technical Boy shuffled and repositioned himself every once in a while, trying to get comfortable but to no avail.

Sighing, he looked sadly at you. "Y/N? Are you awake?" He whispered, not wanting to wake you if you weren’t awake already.

"You really like saying my name, don't you?" You mumbled not bothering to open your eyes.

He laughed softly. "It's a beautiful name."

He moved to his side and quietly watched. "I know this of gonna sound stupid," he said. " But, could we- could we maybe cuddle? I like being held. It helps me sleep."

Now that caught your attention. Opening your eyes, you turned your head to face him.

His loose hair framed his face making him look almost like an angel in the soft glow in the softt glow from the street light outside.

You opened your arms for him.

Without hesitation, he snuggled into your chest and breathed in your scent, hugging you tight.

You couldn't help but chuckle. One hand calmly played with his hair as the other was being held captive by the tech god snuggled up against you.

The god moved so he could listen to your heartbeat. The sound soothed him to no end, ot that he would admit it. Slowly, he started to drift to sleep with the rhythmic sound.

Before he did, he spoke softly. "I love you," he muttered. "More than all the technology and worship in the world."

You blink in disbelief but smile when his words register through your tired brain. "I love you, my angel," you said as quiet as you could, not wanting to disturb the peace.

He heard you still. Warmth flooded his chest and he smiled softly as he fell asleep, comforted knowing you're with him.

You placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. The sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his body in your arms soon had you drifting to sleep yourself.

#american gods #technical boy #fanfiction #american gods fanfiction #bruce langley #new gods #fluff #angst #arguements #apologies

[everybodyscupoftea]

so in one of the fics for frat!jj you mention the reader getting appendicitis. Could I request an imagine of jj getting worried and helping her through it and stuff?

anon! i was hoping someone would pick up on it and ask me, thank you :)

(warnings: cursing, appendicitis, not edited)

It all really went wrong when you and JJ were on a run about a mile and a half from the house. You’d been having pains in your side for at least four months, but they always went away and centered around you period, so you figured it was fine. Apparently not.

Mid-run, you gasped a few times, trying to fight through it. Normally if you just held yourself a certain way it would pass after a few minutes. It didn’t work, so you stopped, startling JJ. He pulled his headphones off and placed a hand on your shoulder, “Everything okay, babe?”

“I’m not,” you started, through gritted teeth, “my fuckin side.”

“Stitch?”

You groaned and hunched over, arms fully wrapped around your stomach. JJ made a noise of alarm and squatted down so he was face to face with you. He pushed a sweaty strand of hair away from your face, and you squeezed your eyes shut as the invisible knife in your side twisted.

“Fuck, this doesn’t feel right,” you groaned.

“Can you stand?” JJ asked, pulling his phone out.

You tried and shook your head after a few seconds, “Nope, new permanent shape.”

He laughed and tried to call someone, cursing when they didn’t answer. It started to lighten a little, and you tried to stand straight again as he dialed someone else’s number.

“Pope,” JJ started in a relieved voice, “thank fuck you answered, man. Hey I’m going to drop you my location and I need you to come pick us up, something happened.”

You couldn’t hear what Pope said in return, but he was yelling a little. Laughing hurt though, so you stopped that almost immediately. JJ looked over as you winced and he bit his lip, “Yeah, I think maybe we need the hospital so if you could hurry, it’d be much appreciated.”

“That’s expensive, I don’t need the-“ you started, only to be interrupted with another wave.

“Yeah right, hush down there.”

JJ held your hand, letting you squeeze it, until Pope finally pulled up. He threw his truck in park and jumped out, running over to the two of you. You glanced up at him as he put a hand on your shoulder, “What hurts?”

You motioned toward your side, “It’s like a knife is in my side and every time I move it twists.”

Pope made a face, “Could be appendicitis, do you still have your appendix?”

“Yeah.”

JJ’s face paled, “Okay, we have to go now.”

You slowly wrapped one arm around JJ’s shoulders and one around Pope’s, and they helped you limp to the car. It hurt so bad when you had to step up, but you pushed through, trying not to show too much pain to worry JJ. But he saw through you, “Quick ride to the hospital, okay hon.”

“Mkay, yeah.”

Pope drove quickly, and not particularly carefully, the few miles to the hospital right off campus. By the time JJ helped you out of the back seat, the pain was residing a little, and you sighed in relief. JJ looked over, “Still making it?”

“Yeah, it’s getting better. Might not be appendicitis, we could probably leave.”

JJ rolled his eyes, “Sit down, I’ll go sign us in.”

You huffed but did as he said, slowly sinking down into a seat closest to the door. The pain may be going away slowly, but you still didn’t feel like walking far. JJ filled out the paperwork quickly, only having to ask you a few of the questions, and before you knew it, you were being called back.

The nurse looked at you and asked you to stretch your arms out, what exactly was hurting, if you felt like you could pee, and on a scale of one to ten, where was the pain. She didn’t seem too concerned, so you started to relax.

“You’re going to be given a drink, it’s a sort of dye, we’ll need it when we x-ray you to check for appendicitis.”

“I thought it was unlikely that I had appendicitis,” your voice had taken a frantic edge as you suddenly realized what appendicitis would mean.

JJ stroked his thumb over your knuckles, “They still have to check, sweetheart.”

The nurse nodded and you shut your eyes tightly. Her tone had gentled when she spoke, “Let’s get you to a room and then we’ll you get you that drink.”

A new nurse brought a wheelchair into the room and you started to protest, “Wait, no I can walk.”

JJ sighed, half in amusement, half in frustration, “Baby, get in the wheelchair and let these people do their job.”

The other nurse shrugged, “He can carry you if you really don’t want the wheelchair. Doesn’t matter to me. You just can’t walk.”

You looked up at JJ, grin on your face and he rolled his eyes, “I’m not fuckin carrying you when there’s a wheelchair right there.”

Batting your eyelashes at him you pouted, “Please, J.”

He carried you. Following the first nurse who had a wide, amused smile on her face. When he set you down on the bed you looked at her, “He’s whipped.”

“That he is,” she agreed on her way out to get the dye.

JJ glared at you, “Now you have to behave.”

“Or what,” you challenged, wincing as another wave of pain hit.

“I’ll come up with something,” he told you, but it wasn’t the most threatening thing, the concern in his voice at the new look of pain on your face more evident.

You were incredibly thankful for your boyfriend. JJ held your hand while you slowly drank the dye, forced you into the wheelchair for x-rays, and called your mom when the doctor came into the room to inform you that it was appendicitis, and you needed surgery ASAP because it was on the verge of bursting.

“Have you had a surgery before?” the doctor asked, glancing through your paperwork.

Clutching JJ’s hand tightly, you nodded, “Yeah, wisdom teeth.”

“Great, so you know how this is going to work.”

“Mhmm.”

After that, everything moved fast. A PA moved you and JJ to an actual room, not in the ER, and you settled in to wait for the anesthesiologist. JJ helped you get all your clothes off and into the hospital gown. You groaned, “Wait I don’t want anyone to see me naked.”

JJ laughed, “Tough shit, baby. They’re going to have to.”

“Nooo,” you whined, half joking, half serious.

It moved fast from there on out. Surgery felt like a blink and you were back in the room, loopily talking to JJ who was filming you. After a few minutes of pointless conversation, he planted a kiss on your forehead, “I love you sweetheart, but please sleep this off.”

And you were tired, so you complied. When you woke up, your mom was sitting in the chair JJ had previously occupied and you looked around the room for him, confused. Your mom looked up from her phone and smiled, “There you are.”

“Where’s JJ?” you asked, one track mind in full swing.

“He had class, so I told him he could go. You’re getting out tomorrow morning, so he’ll stop by then.”

You pouted, “He didn’t say goodbye.”

Your mom laughed, “I’m sure he feels very bad. Check your texts, he might’ve sent you something.”

And he had, which made you feel a bit better. The rest of the day passed in a blur of pain meds and boring hospital movies and bad hospital food. By the end, you just wanted to sleep until you could leave because at least you didn’t hurt while you were sleeping.

You did look at your mom once and asked her, “Do you think this means the pain I’ve been feeling every month for the past few will be gone.”

Her mouth fell open and she leaned forward, “You’ve been feeling this for months?”

“I mean yeah, but it always went away so I figured it was fine.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, “How does JJ put up with you?” You were a little offended, but honestly it was a good question.

That night, you slept restlessly, and eventually it was time to go. Your mom drove you to your dorm, and JJ was waiting outside it, one hand shoved in his shorts pocket, and one holding something. You slowly climbed out of the car and walked toward him, grinning.

“Missed you, loser,” you told him as you stepped into his personal space to rest your forehead on his collarbone.

“Missed you more, reckless,” he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Stepping away, you held out a hand for whatever he was holding and he took it, mistaking your intention. You shook his hand away, “No, what did you bring me?”

JJ huffed, “I guess that saying is true.”

“What saying?”

“Bitches get stitches.”

Your mouth fell open and you slapped his chest as he laughed, “It’s snitches, asshole.”

“You know I love you,” JJ told you, pulling you in gently for a kiss.

You huffed, pulling away, “Well I don’t know if I love you. You’re being mean to me and I just went under the knife.”

JJ rolled his eyes and led you inside the building, opening the door for you. You hesitantly followed him, pouting a little, until he said, “You know I’m about to baby the fuck out of you, so I think you can get past it.”

Which, fair enough. You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand, “I guess I do love you a little.”

“A little,” he muttered incredulously under his breath and you couldn’t help but laugh.

#frat!jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank request #sigma chi!jj

[squidlyskeet]

Joy Ride -.003

Pairing: StreetRacer!Bakugou x Fem!reader

Genre: TokyoDrift!au, Noquirks!au

Status: Ongoing

TW: violence, blood, firearms, eventual nsfw, 18+, mentions of anxiety and OCD disorders, grand theft auto, gang activity.

Summary:

It started with a simple question, “what do you say Y/n? You coming?”

After the sudden death of her mother, Y/n is sent to live with her estranged aunt halfway across the world in Tokyo, Japan. Weary of what this new adventure might hold for her, she decides to let loose the first night she was there, but how was Y/n supposed to know it would lead to a car chase? A car chase in the the passenger seat of a very angry, very hot, street racer’s super car?

A/n: I have not a clue what’s going on with my text seperator, and these are taking for E V E R TO POST. Don’t mind me, this is just a fic dump at this point. Also I just want to point out that BOLD ITALICS are meant to be words spoken in Japanese. I didn’t realize it wasn’t keeping the font when moving the chapters from my word doc’s to here, so I’ll go back through and edit them so they make more sense. ✌🏻-squidlyskeet.

═══☩══♛══☩═══

 “Oi. What the hell is this.” A stern voice gritted out from behind us.

  I didn’t understand a word but I knew it probably couldn’t be good. For some reason I felt like this was the infamous Bakugou.

 “Oi Bakubro, where were you man. The race is about to start.” The red head, Kiri I think, blasted back in Japanese.

  My confusion was spiraling as they continued their conversation. I still hadn’t turned around, and was debating how fast I could turn to leave and walk off without anybody questioning me.

   Ochakos attention was taken when Deku signaled her to come over to help with something he was fiddling with, and now I was stuck between two very heated men as they rambled back and forth in Japanese.

   In a split decision, I turned my heel and attempted to side step the man behind me. Figuring retreat was my best way out of this.

     I made it a few steps before I let myself breathe again but I was halted when I felt a firm grip on my arm and a menacing aura behind me.

 “Who the fuck are you?” The voice said, I still hadn’t looked in his direction, and if it were up to me I never would.

“Dude ease up, she doesn’t speak Japanese.” Kiri spoke, before anyone else could get a word in. I look at him in silent thanks, not understanding but would recognize the defensive tone anywhere.

“Tch. Look at me,” The voice, Bakugou, demanded.

   I gulped fruitlessly trying to wet my dry mouth, and decided to give in and just look at him. If I dwelled too hard on his blatant hatred, I was afraid a flip would switch and I’d be thrown into a debilitating anxiety attack.

    When I finally turned my body around to face him, that same slow motion effect kicked in as I traced his features with my eyes. His full lips were tight and slightly open, showing off his perfectly white teeth clenched underneath. Some of his pale blonde hair fell in his ruby red eyes, which were focused and narrowed on me. He was stunningly handsome, the kind of man you’d do a double take at to make sure he looked as good as the first time you glanced. Only to find out he was better looking.

     His body was lean and muscular, the tight fit of his tank top showing off his biceps and forearms. He was bent down, probably trying to intimidate me, and like the other two massive guys he was towering over me too.

 In conclusion, Bakugou looked like he was made of all hard angles. From his personality to his body, nothing but ice cold stone.

 I didn’t realize I was staring until his gravelly broken English spoke up again.

  “The hell are you staring at. Who are you?” His voice came out just as terrifying as before, but he relaxed his grip when I jumped back at his tone.

 Heat spread through my cheeks, I was ashamed I was showing such weakness in front of him. I wanted to be confident, especially with a man who looked like him.

I tried to sound confident.

 “I’m Y/n L/n, I’m Noel and Mirios niece.” I said, feigning any semblance of a steady voice.

“That’s funny cause last time I checked, Mirio didn’t have a niece.” He deadpanned.

  Damnit, I was hoping maybe throwing around titles would get him to get off my case a little. I just wanted to stand with Ochako and wait for the race to start, maybe have her tell me a little bit more about how all this works.

 “Well technically, no. I’m actually just Noel's niece but Mirio did tell me to call him uncle, so I’d assume he would be okay with me telling you that. Although this is my first race, so I’m not really sure how or what to..,” I trailed off when one of the guys in a lawn chair whipped around and stared directly at me, obviously overhearing my statement about this being my first race. “Oh no, I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

 Bakugou was standing in front of me, brows furrowed in annoyance and confusion. He was looking at me like I had sprouted a second head, and it was making me uncomfortable.

 “What?” I directed at him.

“For someone so damn shy, you ramble like an idiot.” He said flatly. At least he was no longer arguing about my identity.

  He turned his body slowly, completely losing interest in me and walking back to his car I somehow missed noticing at the front of the lined up cars.

“Oi. Who brought this Nav hoe over here? Someone get her away from the cars.” He yelled over his shoulder.

“Kaachan!” My head whipped to Deku, who stood from the ground, “Don’t talk to her like that, what if she’s actually Mirio’s niece? And you heard what she said. This is her first race.” He yelled back, the deep baritone intimidating, but leaving Bakugou unphased as he kept walking.

“Shut up you damn nerd.”

“Thank you Deku, but I can handle this.” I planted my hands on my hips. There were a lot of things I’d take from people, but degradation wasn’t one of them. My mom taught me that at least.

 “You can stomp around having a hissy fit like a child all you’d like Bakugou, but I was invited over here by Ochako and you don’t even know me. So don’t stand there and call me names like you do.” I was huffing in anger when I finished, but quickly calmed down. Immediately embarrassed by my outburst as I noticed every single one of the West side Riders were staring at me, jaws unhinged.

I was a little shaken when I noticed Bakugou had stopped walking midstep, hands clenched tightly at his sides.

Oh my, I think I’m in trouble.

 “Hey hey hey, everyone just calm down now. Y/n was it? Hi sweetie,” The yellow haired man from the lawn chair did an awkward walk run to place himself next to me. “I’m Denki Kaminari, hope this isn’t a bad time or anything, hah, but did hear you say…this is your first race?” He threw his arm over my shoulder, with a wicked smirk on his face.

Shit, I thought we were past that and that no one noticed.

“DAMMIT YOU DUNCE FACE.” Bakugou's loud yell brought me back to reality as the third degree was taken from me and placed on Denki.

    The other guy in the lawn chair let out a loud laugh, assuming this was the Shinsou Ochako was talking about, I pushed down a smirk when I put together that Denki must catch a lot of crap from Bakugou.

“What? Why does that matter?” I asked the man still leaning on me.

“Shut the hell up Denki, I swear to god.” Bakugou said, and Denki’s wicked smirk turned into a shit eating grin.

 Shinsou was full on laughing now, doubled over in fits of laughter at Bakugou’s expense.

“Because little flower, if you are who you say you are, that means you’ll be Bakugou’s Navigator tonight.” Denki’s eyes weren’t on me when he said it, they were on Bakugou. I was happy for it, because while the details didn’t make sense, the statement did. There was no way I wanted to be trapped in the car with an angry porcupine for however long it took to finish a race.

 “No she’s not.” Bakuhou’s gravelly voice strained out through his gritted teeth. He was facing us now, sharp features twisted up in anger and looking like he wanted to hit Denki.

  I looked at the others, Kiri was openly laughing now, Shinsou has been a mess of laughter since before the spat started, and Ochako and Deku had their faces turned away, mouths covered by hands, and chest heaving in silent giggles.

  “Yes she is, you’re the only available squad leader,” Denki stated, before sucking his teeth loudly and checking his nails. His eyes shot back to Bakugou. “That is, unless you want me to get Tenya on the phone and tell him he needs to come fulfill the duty as a squad leader. That’ll do just fine won’t it? Leave this adorable, defenseless flower in the hands of Tenya?”

  I didn’t know what Denki said in the second half of his rant, but it seemed serious enough that everyone, even Shinsou, stopped laughing. All eyes were turned to Bakugou.

   I thought for a second I saw his cold exterior drop and a look of panic flash across his widened eyes. But it was gone so fast I thought I imagined it.

  Everyone stood in tense silence for a second, while I wondered what was going on. It was starting to grate on my nerves how much I was actually left out of simply because I didn’t understand most of their language. It was my own fault, and I’d remember to pester Noel about it until she taught me a few words and phrases.

Bakugou’s shoulders visibly slumped out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look at him, his head still held high but the look of reluctant defeat across painted his features.

 “Fine. She can come,” he paused, pointing a finger at me and holding my eyes. “I want you and your gear ready before this race is even finished. When the winner is announced go back to East wall and stay there until I come get you. I’m going to prep until the second round. Don’t bother me.” With his final annoyed statement, Bakugou opened the door of his sleek orange car, shooting me one last look of disdain, got in and left.

   Bending down to put my hands on my knees I finally let myself breath normally. Relieved I could have a moment away from Bakugou’s heavy personality.

 I felt a hand rub circles on my back before looking up at Ochako.

 “I’m sorry, I really should have warned you before I brought you over here. I didn’t think he’d be happy, but I really didn’t think he’d call you names.” She said, apologizing genuinely.

 “I honestly can’t believe he caved, I guess all you really gotta do is throw around the boss’s name and he backs off that attitude of his.” Denki piped up from behind Ochako, retreating back to his lawn chair.

 “I really wouldn’t push him too far next time Denki. Sure he relents for the boss, but he has limits. You know he doesn’t like having a Navigator.” Kirishima said, injecting himself. His tone sounded scolding and disappointed. I’d be lying if I said it almost made me want to try to cheer him up.

 “That’s enough.” Deku commanded.

 “Hey, it’s not my fault that bitch left him for-.”

 “DENKI. I said that’s enough,” Deku’s firm voice cut over Denki’s antagonizing one. “Kirishima, go check on him and make sure he's okay. Denki shut the hell up from now on.”

  Without a word Kirishima pocketed his phone and in one smooth motion got in his car. Within a second he was gone too, all that was left was Ochako and I, Deku and the two bumble heads in the lawn chair.

   I felt really bad. That could have gone way better than what it did, and now I have to try and Navigate for Bakugou. Jesus, how am I supposed to tell Noel and Mirio.

  “Izu, I’m gonna go help get Y/n ready and then we are going to go watch the start of the race. I have my phone if you need me.” She yelled in Deku’s general direction to which he replied with a flick of his wrist practically dismissing her. I caught the look of surprise on her face, and watched it melt into anger.

Lord have mercy on that man's soul for later.

  “Alright Y/n, lets go get your equipment, and I’ll give you a few pointers.” She smiled back at me, warming my soul and easing some of my anxiety.

 Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad.

—————————————————

  It definitely was that bad.

  Round one just ended and Mirio won, I guess people bet on these things, earning Mirio a lot of money. I remembered leaning over the edge of the hip high wall of the parking deck, looking down over the road trying to spot the obnoxious yellow vehicle through the maze of buildings and sidewalks.

    My breath caught as the previously mentioned car shot around the corner in a wide arc and straightened out only to move so fast I could hardly see them. The next thing I knew a yellow flare was being shot into the sky and Mirio was being announced the winner.

Which lead me to right now.

 Mirio had just backed into his parking spot, and Noel was cheering about how fast he went in the straight shot.

  The thought brought me back to Ochakos mini lesson, ‘A straight shot is a part of the track where there are no turns, not even any curves. Drivers can make up the time they lost trying to drift around curves because they can’t go as fast. Now I’m going to show you a little secret...’.

   I was trying to memorize it in my head when Noel caught my attention.

 “What’s that stuff for honey, we were only racing once tonight. I don’t need another set.” She said, her brow furrowed in confusion.

 “Well you see, I uhh- ImetagirlnamedOchakoandshewantedmetomeethersquadsoIdidandthenImetBakugouandIaccidentlyspilledaboutthisbeingmyfirstraceandnowIhavetoNavigatrforhim.” I was breathing heavy when I was done, and Noel planted her hands on her hips.

    “I can’t fucking believe this, I’m sorry you what?” She demanded.

 “All I’m saying is I see why you wanted me to say this wasn’t my first race. Now I have navigate for the angriest man at this stupid meet. Is there any way out of this?” I said while pleading with my eyes.

 “Mirio.” She shot over her shoulder.

  Said man, turned to look around and abruptly left the conversation he was having next to his car.

 “Yes baby?”

 “Tell him what you just told me.”

“Uhg. I accidentally may have let slip that this is my first race to the west side team. Now I have to Navigate for Bakugou.” I was getting tired of repeating myself, I wanted answers.

 “Well I suppose it could be worse. It could be Teny-.”

“Mirio!” Noel slapped his arm.

He sighed before starting.  “I’m sorry little chick, there isn’t anything I can do. You technically are a part of the East side Riders now as long as Noel and I are together. Even if you don’t race, all family members are a part of it. It’s tradition. New members are initiated by Navigating for a different side's squad leader. It’s meant to be that way so a third person party can tell if the person is worthy of joining.

     This may seem like fun and games, and most of these people are irrelevant. But every person here who is on a squad has to either be ready to drive or navigate at a moment's notice. Usually under more stressful circumstances, but we won’t get into that. The reason you have to ride with Bakugou is because he is the only squad leader available without a permanent Navigator. I have Noel, and Monoma has Kendo. The south side is out of the question.” He shrugged as he finished.

That was a lot to process. Does that mean I’ll be a part of a gang or something? Jesus. What did I get myself into. All I wanted to do was have a few drinks and go fast in a car and now look.

  My god I’m a train wreck, and my stomach was clenching with every passing second.

  The gong sounded, and the announcer's voice sounded off through the speakers again.

 “Gear up, round two starts in ten minutes!” It sounded like he was screaming, but I couldn’t really tell with blood rushing in my ears.

  Noel has the bridge of her nose pinched between her fingers, her foot tapping on the floor. When she finally huffed and looked at me, I made it a point to look at anything that wasn’t directly back into her piercing cat like eyes.

  “Look at me,” I finally relented, and snapped my sight directly back at hers. “If you get hurt in any way, psychically, emotionally, shit even if he hurts your feelings. I’ll kill him.”

 As if on cue, the rumble of a motor popped over the bump in the entrance and maneuvered it’s way around the sea of cars. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know it was a burnt orange sports car with a fuming blonde in the drivers seat as the tires came to a screeching halt behind me.

  “Get in.” Bakugou’s deep raspy English left no room for argument.

  Noel nodded after me before reaching out to wrap me in a hug. I returned it thankfully.

  “You’ll do great.” She whispered in my ear before releasing me.

   I counted to ten before turning around taking a few steps to Bakugou’s passenger door. I looked through the windshield at the headrest only to find it bare, and sighed in relief. I was putting things together in my head, and as far as I could tell, some stitching on the headrest indicated a person belongs there. Permanently. And if it’s not your name, it’s not you.

  Man this is the worst walk of shame I’ve ever taken, and it didn’t help that Bakugou kept his eyes on me the entire time.

   I finally pulled open the door, standing back when I remembered the car doors opened up and not out. I slid in, taking in the interior of the car. It was leather, like real leather. It felt warm and nice on the exposed skin of my back between my crop top and jeans. I could feel there was no cushion though, probably just leather stretched over hard plastic meant to keep the bucket seat stable at high speeds. The color scheme was hunter green and orange with neons under his dash, lighting up the floorboards.

   I didn’t know much about cars but I knew enough to know that this car probably cost a lot of money. Whether he built it or bought it I had no idea, but either way it was a fortune. The dash displayed a screen bigger than a computer, and when I looked behind me there was no back seat, just six nondescript silver tanks. All neatly stacked in racks with hoses coming out of the tops and disappearing into the floorboard.

  “Shut the damn door.” Bakugou snapped at me, pulling me out of my inspection.

  I jumped when he spoke but quickly regained composure and reached for the door handle.

  “Tch. Not like that.” He reached across me brushing his arm against my collarbone and pressed a button on the side of the dash. I turned my face to the side to try and hide the glowing red that creeped up my neck while the door started closing automatically. When the door finally closed my blush burned hotter as I got a face full of what the inside of his car smelled like.

Heavenly. A perfect mix of sweet and spicy. Sandalwood, and gasoline. And something sweet. Was that..

Burnt sugar?

   Whatever it was, the smell mixed together in my nose fogging my brain.

     Without moving out of the way for other people in case they needed to get through, he pressed his foot down on the third pedal beneath the dash and shook the shifter in the middle before reaching behind my seat, obviously trying to find something.

   I stifled a giggle unsuccessfully when I caught sight of his shift knob. It was short, sunk down further into the center console compared to Mirio’s which sat higher. I was giggling though, because the shift knob was a grenade.

 “Something funny?” Another short jab.

“No no, I was just admiring the shifter.”

“What, you don’t like it?”  

“No I do, I was just thinking that’s a very Bakugou thing to have.” I replied.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean? I can’t fucking do this.” He growled out the last part in Japanese, thoroughly confusing me and shutting me up.

     Something for the second time tonight landed in my lap, the familiar straps indicating it was a seatbelt. Or, more accurately, a harness.

  “You have two minutes to attach that to the seat and put it on, after that we are going and you don’t want to be out of a seat belt for the exit.” The last part sounded more like a threat than anything else and it sparked my limbs into moving.

  He didn’t think I could do it, well I’d show him.

 But after a minute I realized the slots were different than the ones Mirio had, and instead of five points there were eight points of attachment. I fumbled to try and get them into the slots when I finally figured out how they went in. It wasn’t the most comfortable sitting arrangement known to man, sitting practically backwards and trying to fanangle the small silver pieces into their designated holes but I refused to ask the hotheaded blonde for help.

   Thinking about him caused my eyes to unconsciously shoot in his direction, he had a look of annoyance on his face and if you squinted hard enough you could almost see amusement.

 A sadist through and through. Gaining amusement out of my struggling.

     Finally I had the damn thing in place, and when I went to sit down back in the seat I heard a thump from the inside of the car on Bakugou’s side.

   Pulling the harness in place, and finally clicking the last buckle together I looked up to find Mirio leaning against the door and looking into Bakugou’s car.

  Bakugou kept his face and eyes straight, almost like he refused to make eye contact.

 “Are you all strapped in little chick?” Mirio had his signature smile while he addressed me with his new nickname. I actually like it, cute but at the same time platonic.

  “Yup.” I replied with a smile of my own, trying to ease his tension and my own with the false pretense.

  “Got all your equipment?” He asked, but this time his face was pointed in Bakugou’s direction. His eyes held a glare, but he kept his voice light as he spoke to me.

 “Yup look!” I reached down to the floor showing Mirio all my stuff. I was pretending at first, but this time around it was genuine.

 “Good. Have fun little chick. Don’t get hurt okay, your aunt will kill me.” He waved, and Bakugou revved his engine clearly ready to go.

  Bakugou was about to take off when just as he was about to put it in first gear to leave Mirio grabbed the steering wheel and leaned down, invading Bakugou’s personal space.

“If anything, and I really mean anything happens to her, I’ll string you to the side of the building and count the seconds till you stop breathing. You hear me?” Mirio’s voice changed when he changed languages, his tone was dark and menacing as he spat the words out.

   Bakugou revved the engine again, visibly clenching the grenade shifter harder.

“Loud and clear.” The Japanese words his only reply before he slammed the car in first gear and took off towards the exit.

—————————————————————

-.003 💥MASTERLIST💥 -.004

Tag list: @thatonegeekchick​  ☺️☺️

Word✌🏼-Squidlyskeet

#my hero academia #this took a lot longer than i thought it would #bnha au #mha #uhgggg #bnha fluff #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #tokyo drift #tokyo #bnha angst

[openheartchoices]

Five Times He Didn’t, One Time He Did (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Five Times He Didn’t, One Time He Did

Open Heart: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Olivia Summers)

Words: 4.3k

Summary: Five times that Ethan Ramsey didn’t kiss the girl and the one time he did.

A/N: I actually really loved writing this, and the idea has been in my head for a hot minute now. also this was written at like 3 am last night, so i haven’t edited yet. lots of love & happy reading!

**also, I don’t know if I’ve ever brought up a taglist, but I did (finally) start one, and it’s below. A few of you have asked to be tagged, so you’re below if you’ve asked! I started my tumblr about a month ago, and I am ready to start building onto my masterlist and taglist. Let me know if you want to be added now that I officially have one! **

aglist: @kaavyaethanramsey @nooruleman @missmiimiie @bellcat2010 @junehiratas @perriewinklenerdie @openheart12 @ethandaddyramsey

It was in the on-call room the first time.

Ethan found her bundled up, still in her scrubs and white coat, in a corner where she slept peacefully. The room was always cold, but it was even more so with the frigid winter weather outside. Olivia had been working a long shift that had truly exhausted her.

As he moved closer to her sleeping form, he realized he didn’t want to wake her up. He laughed lightly upon seeing her frizzy ponytail, strands of her blonde hair framing her sleeping face. Her mouth was slightly open, deep breaths coming out of it.

He felt guilty about waking her up, but he needed her for a case, and she hadn’t been answering her pager. Ethan knew why once he saw it laying on the table beside her. A nurse had informed him at the nurses’ station that she had seen Olivia go into the room, but she didn’t recall seeing her come back out.

He hesitantly started to reach down to wake her before moving his hand multiple times back and forth as he contemplated on if it was really necessary to wake her. Ethan bit his lip while trying to decide what to do.

Letting out a sigh, Ethan finally shook her gently, knowing she was going to have to get up eventually. “Olivia, hey. Wake up.”

She rolled over onto her back, her eyes still shut as she stretched. Sleepily, Olivia opened her eyes. Once realizing who had just woken her up, she darted straight up as rubbed her eyes frantically. “Hey, Dr. Ramsey! What do you need?”

“I needed to borrow you. We have a case I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Okay, sounds good,” she replied back, fake enthusiasm and pep in her voice in an attempt to act like she hadn’t just been in a deep sleep.

As she pulled her hair out of the mess it was in and threw it back up to look nicer, Ethan turned to her again. “I’ve been paging you.”

Her cheeks went red and her eyes opened wide. Olivia looked everywhere but at Ethan as she grabbed her pager that sat on the table. She sheepishly looked back up at him. “I must’ve really been out.”

“You lucked up that it wasn’t an emergency. You have to be more careful than that.” However, upon seeing the bags under her eyes, he sighed. “Just… try to get some sleep at home. Have you been sleeping?”

Olivia shrugged as she played with the sleeves of her white coat. “Somewhat.”

Ethan frowned. “Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

“I have a lot going on. My head runs a million miles a night.” Was all she said.

Ethan had a feeling as to why she hadn’t been sleeping. He had an even bigger feeling that it most definitely involved his recent decision to erase everything they’d ever had. He could feel the guilt coming from a mile away.

“Well,” he cleared his throat as sat beside her, “if you, uh, ever need to talk, you know I’m here to listen.”

“I can’t talk about my problems to you when you are my problem,” she whispered softly, looking into his eyes for the first time since he had come into the room.

Ethan could feel all the air leaving his lungs as he made eye contact with Olivia. The distance between their hands was only a few centimeters as Ethan slowly moved it over, their pinky fingers barely touching.

They didn’t have to say anything. The small, weightless touch of their hands together and the look they gave each other said everything. It screamed the three unsaid words Olivia wanted to tell him, and it was a clear definition of Ethan’s longing for the blonde doctor beside him.

He noticed Olivia’s eyes darting down to his lips as he found himself doing the same thing. They both wanted it; that much was obvious. However, Ethan knew he couldn’t.

Ethan broke the gaze, awkwardly staring at the floor and quickly stood up. “We, um, need to go to my office to discuss the case.”

Without looking back at her, Ethan went out of the on-call room before he could do anything he considered stupid and reckless. On the journey back to his office, it took all he had in him to not kick himself for what he was doing to her.

—

They were in the parking lot of Donahue’s the second time.

Olivia was pacing back and forth like a maniac when he found her. She was completely oblivious to him as her eyes focused on her phone as she frantically dialed a number.

Ethan watched her for a moment. She was wringing her hands together, something she only did when she was nervous, as the phone sat wedged between her cheek and her shoulder. Whoever was on the phone finally answered.

“It’s about time you answered the phone!” Olivia exclaimed. “I’ve been a nervous wreck since I got your text. What’s wrong?”

Ethan didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he was curious who was on the phone. Could it be a boyfriend? Was it Dr. Trinh? Was it a family member? He really didn’t know.

Olivia suddenly gasped. “Really? I’m so happy for you! But I really freaked out at your text. It sounded like you were being kidnapped.”

Ethan listened further as Olivia kept talking. “Send me pictures. I can’t wait to see her! I’ll be in to visit as soon as I can get time off. Give her lots of hugs from me when she’s here. Love you, Octavia. You’ve got this!”

Olivia continued her conversation until she finally said her goodbyes. Before Ethan could move from the place he’d been standing and eavesdropping, Olivia turned around and caught him.

“Were you listening to me on the phone?”

Ethan sheepishly shrugged. “You sounded worried. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were wringing your hands which is something you only do when you’re nervous.”

Olivia laughed. “Well, since you’re being nosy, my sister is in labor with my niece. She sent me a very urgent text, and I got worried something was wrong.”

“She’s doing good?”

“Yes. She said she should be here soon,” Olivia said with a smile. “I can’t wait. Octavia is going to be an incredible mom. She’s younger than me, but she was always the mom of us all.”

They sat on the bench outside of the bar, the music echoing from inside. “I didn’t know you had siblings.”

Olivia grinned. “I have a brother and a sister. I’m the oldest, Octavia is in the middle, and Oliver is the youngest. We’re all extremely close. Mom and Dad… it’s complicated with them. We had each other growing up, and that was all we needed.”

Ethan wanted to press further about Olivia’s parents, but he decided not to. Judging from the tone of her voice when she brought them up, he knew that probably wasn’t a topic he needed to bring up.

They sat in silence for a few moment, neither one of them saying anything until Olivia spoke up. “I should get back inside. Sienna will send out a search party for me if I’m not back soon.”

Ethan didn’t want her to go. He could sit there all night, but he knew he should get going, too. However, he was going home to Jenner, not back inside the bar. “I should be getting home. I hope your sister has a safe delivery.”

Olivia threw Ethan a smile that lit up the dark around them. The lights from the streets illuminated her complexion, making Ethan even more crazy about her. “Thanks. Goodnight, Ethan.”

“Goodnight, Olivia.”

She lingered for a minute, giving Ethan time to back out of kissing her, before finally standing up and giving him one last smile before starting her way back inside.

He wanted to call out her name, tell her to come back, and express how he really felt, but he didn’t. Instead of kissing her, he was watching her open the doors to Donahue’s as she disappeared inside.

“You are an idiot,” he mumbled to himself.

—

The third time was in his office when Olivia had brought him a muffin at the end of her shift.

“Knock, knock,” Olivia had said when she entered the room.

Ethan looked up from his pile of paperwork to see Olivia looking… not like the usual Olivia.

Her blonde hair had been neatly curled. She wore a long-sleeved, flared out red dress that ended mid-thigh with a pair of wedges and matching red earrings to go along with the outfit. She clutched a red purse in her hand with a muffin in the other.

Ethan knew she must had just gotten ready because he knew for a fact that her hair had been in a low ponytail all day, she had worn her scrubs, and there hadn’t been an ounce of makeup on her last time he had seen her which had only been around two hours again on the fourth floor.

However, he wasn’t denying that she looked stunning.

“I brought you a muffin,” she said as Ethan looked up at her in confusion from his desk. She was awfully cheery.

“Thanks?” He questioned. “Not that I don’t appreciate the muffin, but why did you bring me a muffin, Rookie?”

“One of the oncology nurses, Sarah, made some last night for her son’s bake sale today at school. She brought the leftovers with her and was kind enough to give me two. I ate one. This is the other. I thought you might be a little hungry. I know you’ve been busy today,” she replied.

His heart warmed at Olivia making a point to bring him something to snack on. He had, indeed, been extremely busy. Ethan wasn’t starving, but he was secretly thankful for the blueberry muffin wrapped in a napkin that she sat on his desk.

“I’d love to stay and talk, but I’ve got to get going,” Olivia said. “I’m supposed to be at dinner at seven thirty.” She glanced down to check the time on her phone.

That got his attention.

“Dinner?”

Olivia stuttered. “Yeah. I, uh, have a date tonight.”

Ethan bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from saying anything. He couldn’t help but feel the jealousy running rampantly through him. That explained why she was so dressed up. “Have a nice time.”

If Ethan had been paying attention, he would’ve caught the way Olivia’s face dropped at his nonchalance. He would’ve seen how the whole muffin thing was just an act to come see him. He would’ve seen that she still cared, and she wanted him to care, too.

She rocked back and forth on her wedges. “I will. See you tomorrow?”

Olivia’s hand was on the door knob, but she couldn’t bring herself to open it because she wanted him to know that if he didn’t want her to go, she wouldn’t. If he didn’t want her to move on, then she wouldn’t. All he had to do was say the words.

However, all Ethan said as finally looked back up at her was, “See you tomorrow.”

He noticed how she hovered at the door. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to jump out of his seat and tell her how he felt, yet he couldn’t. Their relationship would cost them both too much.

Ethan couldn’t risk that.

So he let her go out the door as she stopped in the doorway, looking at him a final time. Ethan couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He was completely absorbed in the moment. He didn’t say anything as she finally nodded to herself and shut the door.

He had screwed up.

What he didn’t know was that as soon she got into the parking lot, Olivia called off the date because she, too, was feeling like she had screwed up.

—

It happened a fourth time when Grey’s Anatomy got to Olivia a little too much.

It was a Thursday on the night shift when Ethan was violently pulled into a supply closet by a certain blonde.

“Jesus Christ, Rookie! You can’t just drag people into closets whenever you feel like- what’s wrong?” He immediately asked upon catching a glimpse of her face.

Olivia wore a sad expression on her face. Her hair was up in a bun as she crossed her arms over her light blue scrubs. She was looking everywhere but at Ethan. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have kidnapped you into the closet.

Ethan frowned, trying to read into what was going on. “Did something happen?”

“No,” she mumbled. Then, although Ethan couldn’t quite hear her, Olivia mumbled a few more words.

“What? You’re going to have to speak up.”

She sighed, her face turning red. “I was watching Grey’s Anatomy last night, and there was a shooting episode. I… I sobbed for a good hour after it was over. I just- if something like that ever happens here, then just promise me you’ll stay safe.”

Ethan thought she was joking for a minute, but looking into her eyes and seeing the worry in them, he decided she must have been completely serious. “Of course I would stay safe, Liv. I wouldn’t do anything to-“

Ethan didn’t get to finish his sentence before Olivia pulled him into a big hug. He wrapped his arms around her just as tight. “It’s just a television show. Don’t let it scare you.”

“It’s just different when you’re an actual doctor, y’know? I know a lot of it isn’t like what we do every day, but still. It hits different when this is your life. We don’t ever think that today might be the last day we ever walk into Edenbrook. I just can’t help but to replay that in my head,” Olivia mumbled into his white coat as she gripped it. “I don’t know what I’d do if something ever happened to you.”

She pulled back to look at him. Ethan noted she still didn’t look satisfied, so he continued to talk to her. “Don’t put those thoughts into your head. Yes, anything could happen, but we just have to live life as it is and not dwell on that.”

The two suddenly became aware of the close proximity to one another. They were so close that Ethan could spot the tiny freckles that darted along Olivia’s cheeks and nose. Both of their hearts were racing, each feeling dizzy from the other’s presence.

Ethan was so close this time to leaning down and closing the gap. It took everything in him to not give into her. It physically pained him to take back his arms and drop them by his side. It hurt him even more to see the disappointed look on Olivia’s face.

He cleared his throat. “You okay now?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I should get back to my rounds.”

As Olivia left the supply closet, not looking back once, Ethan couldn’t help but feel like yanking his own hair out.

Once again, he had let his pride become bigger than his feelings.

—

It happened for the fifth time when he found Olivia splurging in vending machine food.

He found her in cafeteria off to the side where no one was sitting at three in the morning. Ethan had to do a double take when he first noticed the hunched over form that held a book in hand with a Hershey bar in the other.

“What exactly are you doing?” He asked her once he got to where she was sitting, eyeing the various snacks in her lap that she had obviously gotten from the vending machine.

She looked up from her book and patted the cushioned seat next to her. He, of course, sat down and looked over at her.

“Reading.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. Olivia always had a tendency to have sassy remarks. “No, what I meant was what are you doing at three in the morning with a bunch of sugary snacks and whatever that is you’re reading.”

Olivia flashed him the cover. “I’m reading The Selection series. I’m on the third book, and I just bought the series a week ago. The sugary snacks are to keep me awake so I don’t fall asleep before I finally finish my shift at seven.”

“What is The Selection?”

“Kind of like a royal version of The Bachelor, but Maxon is far better than any of the bachelors on that show,” Olivia answered, popping a chip into her mouth from the opened bag on the opposite seat of where Ethan was sitting. “America obviously belongs with Maxon. I don’t know why there was ever consideration about Aspen.”

“I have no idea who those people are.”

Olivia and Ethan sat on the uncomfortable chairs in the cafeteria for a good ten minutes as Olivia explained every aspect of the series. She went into depth on the characters, their traits, the storyline, and her own personal opinions.

Ethan found himself even more interested in Olivia as he watched her eyes light up as she discussed the book and ate chocolate. His heart fluttered even more when Olivia announced she had started the series in the first place because of a fourteen-year-old patient that loved it.

Olivia told him how the patient, Jade, was a cancer patient on the pediatrics floor whose favorite hobby was reading. This was her favorite series, and all she did when Olivia came in was talk about it, so Olivia bought the books and had fallen in love with it just like Jade.

She explained that Jade was terrified of the hospital, and she was even more terrified at the fact she had cancer. Olivia was reading the series so that she had something to talk to Jade about to take her mind off of everything going on.

That was the moment Ethan knew she wasn’t going to be great at her job one day like he always thought because she was already an incredible doctor.

“That’s… really good of you, Olivia,” Ethan softly said.

She smiled. “If I can take her mind off the bad stuff for just a minute, it’s worth reading this entire series.”

Ethan noticed a smudge of chocolate stuck to the corner of her mouth. Silently, he cupped his hand around her cheek, his thumb coming down to slowly wipe away the tiny bit of chocolate.

“Sorry. You had chocolate on your mouth,” he mumbled.

Ethan didn’t remove his hand. Instead, it continued to rest on her cheek. Olivia didn’t bother to remove it, the open book still sitting in her lap. He could hear her nervously gulp from where he was at.

She had slowly moved closer on instinct, her hand coming up to rest against his that was on her cheek. They were close again, much like many other times that they both recalled. However, unlike the other times, Ethan was about to give in this time.

He didn’t get the chance to when his pager went off, startling both of the doctors. Ethan didn’t say anything as he stood up, removing his hand from her cheek. He gave her one last look before walking out of the cafeteria on his way to a whole other floor.

He knew it would only be a matter of time before he finally did give in to the blonde doctor that read her patients’ favorite books.

And Ethan wanted to give in.

—

The one time he did give in was when Olivia brought a fruit tray to his apartment.

A thump on his apartment door interrupted Ethan late at night. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, prying them away from his laptop where he was doing research work before he went to the door only to see Olivia standing outside.

He looked at her to see her standing in black, lint-covered leggings, a large sweater, and a whole fruit tray in her hand. Her blonde hair was braided, probably by Sienna, into a side braid that very much suited her.

“What are you doing at my apartment in the middle of the night with a fruit tray?” He questioned her.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you if you’ll let me in. It’s November, Ethan. I’m freezing out here.”

He opened the door wider and motioned for her to come in. She took off her shoes at the door before turning to Ethan. “Do you want to share this fruit tray with me?”

Ethan looked at her incredulously. “Olivia, it’s two in the morning. What are you doing with a fruit tray?”

Olivia shrugged. “it’s been sitting in our refrigerator at the apartment, and no one will eat it. I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I thought I’d see if you wanted to share it with me. I don’t like pineapple, and I’m just not crazy about watermelon, so you’re welcome to eat all of those sections. We have to share the grapes, strawberries, and blueberries.”

“Did it occur to you that I might have been asleep?”

“No because you’ve been working on some research. I had a feeling you’d be up working, and I was right.” Olivia sat on the couch, motioning Ethan to come sit next to her.

Jenner sat beside of Olivia, happy to see her to which she sat the fruit tray down on the coffee table in front of her to scratch behind Jenner’s ears and tell him what a “good boy” he was.

Ethan liked the sight in front of him. Olivia on his couch in the middle of the night with Jenner. The fruit tray was something that he hadn’t seen coming, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy her company no matter how many headaches she gave him sometimes.

“So,” Ethan drawled as Olivia held the fruit tray out to him. He grabbed a piece of pineapple and took a bite out of it. “How did your sister do when she had the baby.”

Olivia grinned. “She said she did good, and it didn’t hurt as bad as she thought it would. I’d show you pictures, but I left my phone back at the apartment. She’s precious. I can’t wait to meet her when I go home for Thanksgiving in two weeks.”

Ethan popped a grape into his mouth at the same time as Olivia bit into a strawberry. “That’s good to hear. How did your date go that night? I never got to ask.”

Olivia hesitated to answer, and Ethan clearly noticed her hesitation. He couldn’t help but worry that maybe it had gone great, and Olivia was about to tell him she had met the person she thought she was going to marry or something else extreme.

“I didn’t go,” she admitted, plucking at the strawberry she held in her hand, suddenly becoming very interested in it. “I, uh, called him when I got in the parking lot and told him I didn’t think a date was a good idea.”

“Why did you do that?” Ethan asked even though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“Because he’s a doctor, but he’s not the doctor I want. He’s not the one that lets me into his apartment in the middle of the night with a fruit tray in my hand because I wanted an excuse just to come talk to him. He isn’t the one that listens me to talk about books when I’m on a sugar rush. He isn’t the one who always reassures me.”

Olivia paused for a moment before she said, “He’s a nice guy, but he just isn’t you.”

She took the last bite of her strawberry to try and ease some of the tension. Ethan noticed her eyes looking everywhere except for at him.

With no warning, his hand came around to the back of her neck, pulling her in to finally close the distance in the way he had wanted to for weeks now. Ethan didn’t allow himself to talk him out of doing it. This was Olivia, and she was worth everything.

He could taste the strawberries on her breath as he moved his lips against her, capturing everything Ethan had wanted to tell her for so long. The kiss screamed that he was wrong. The kiss conveyed the message that he wanted her.

Olivia pulled back and smiled. “You taste like grapes.”

Ethan laughed. “You taste like strawberries.”

She suddenly got serious as she intertwined their hands. “What are we doing? Because I don’t want to play games, Ethan. I’m telling you that I want you, but I need you to be upfront with me.”

“I want you, too.”

This time, Olivia pulled him into the kiss, mustering up every ounce of love she held for him and pouring it into the kiss. Ethan reciprocated, letting his worrying mind finally leave him alone for once.

For the first time in weeks, Ethan hadn’t felt like he screwed up.

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey fic #ethan ramsey x olivia summers #ethan ramsey #open heart #open heart choices #open heart 2 #open heart fic

[clumsyclifford]

a future of stories, kiss you good mornings

here’s a cute little malum fic in honor of michael’s 25th birthday !! i am sadly not the editing or giffing type and my only real creative outlet is writing so i am forced to show my love for mr clifford by pretending he’s in love with his best friend because you know. that’s how we roll

big shoutout to @blackbutterfliescal and @devilatmydoor for rallying the troops so to speak lol and getting us all to celebrate michael’s birthday you guys are truly both wonderful and everyone in this lil community is so wonderful wow i love you all !!!!! yes i’ve been listening to a very cute love song on a loop for a little bit so maybe i’m being exceedingly sappy but that’s life. anyway enough from me

this is fluffy, fluffy fluff. it MIGHT be the fluffiest fluff i’ve ever written. no tws (i think) just fluff !!! something about malum just brings out all the fluff. if i say fluff one more time i might lose my mind so why don’t we all just dive into the fic okay cool

title from protocol by the vamps (don’t use the song as a guide for the tone of the fic adflkgjfhklmj) 

read it here on ao3

Waking up alone threatens to make this birthday pretty bad.

Hopefully it means Calum is making breakfast. Michael would kill for waffles. He blindly sweeps an arm over Calum’s side of the bed, but it’s cold. Michael snuggles deeper into his pillows, keeping his eyes shut for another minute in case he falls back asleep. He’d actually bet anything Calum is making him breakfast right now, because that’s Calum’s go-to birthday move, so Calum will come get him when it’s ready.

Time melts into nothing, and Michael’s not sure if he does drift off again or just float on the edges of consciousness, but after some undetermined stretch a quiet voice whispers, “Mikey.”

“Hm,” Michael grunts. 

Calum crawls into bed and presses a kiss to Michael’s cheek (the one not currently flattened against the pillow). “Happy birthday, babe.”

“Would be happier if I was asleep.”

Calum chuckles lightly and wraps Michael up in his arms. His embrace is warm and familiar, and much cozier than the pillows, so Michael burrows deeper into Calum’s chest. “Would it be happier if you had waffles and ice cream for breakfast?”

Michael perks up. “Ice cream?”

“It’s your birthday,” Calum says, a grin in his voice. “Of course we’re having ice cream for breakfast.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” Michael says, tempted by the notion of ice cream for breakfast. “It’s hot.”

Calum laughs outright. “Get up or the waffles will get cold.”

“How’d you know I wanted waffles?” Michael asks, brushing a kiss over Calum’s collarbone before pulling away to look at him. He’s smiling like he knows something Michael doesn’t, and he’s as charmingly adorable as he’s been every day since they met, but Michael feels a little extra in love today. Maybe it has to do with getting older. He’s officially closer to thirty than twenty now. His age can be rounded up. That’s a little bit insane.

“We’ve been together seven years, Michael,” Calum says, rolling his eyes. “You think I don’t know your favorite breakfast food?”

Michael smiles, melty and warm inside. “Love you,” he says.

Calum kisses him. “Love you too. Now get up. Waffles.”

—

Calum is suspiciously happy. Michael points this out through a mouthful of ice cream-soaked waffle, and Calum just cocks his head. The smile doesn’t waver. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re, like, dancing,” Michael says. He swallows his food. “There’s no music and you’re dancing.”

“So you’ve never danced without music?” Calum raises his eyebrows.

“I’m just saying, it’s suspicious,” Michael says, shrugging. He leans forward on his elbow, resting his face on his palm. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“So what do you want to do today?” Calum prompts, still swaying back and forth a bit. Michael wonders if he even realizes he’s doing it; it’s like there’s a song playing that only Calum can hear. Something’s making him light on his feet.

Michael wishes he knew what it was, so he could make it happen every day. Seeing Calum in such high spirits is doing wonders for Michael’s disposition. It’s fun to be in love, Michael muses, knowing that someone else’s mood can be just as instrumental in setting the tone of the day as Michael’s own. If Calum’s energy is anything to go by, today is shaping up to be incredible.

“Nothing,” Michael says honestly. He’s been gazing at Calum for a minute and answers a little late, but Calum has just been letting him. “Just want to relax.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Calum says, smiling airily. Michael makes a noise of protest, but he can’t fight the silly grin.

“If you knew, then why’d you even ask?”

“I had to make sure!”

“Yes, Calum, you know me better than anyone else on the planet,” Michael says wryly. “Are you satisfied?”

Calum’s smile grows. “I got you a birthday present.”

“I should hope you did.”

“It’s a bit non-traditional, though,” Calum continues. “As birthday presents go.”

Like there are traditional birthday presents? Michael wrinkles his nose in confusion. “Okay? Are you going to give it to me?”

Calum hesitates. “Do you want it now, or later?”

“Is this a weird euphemism? Are you just asking if I want to sleep with you?”

“No!” Calum snickers. “No, it’s not. It’s a real thing. I…I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Michael promises. “I mean, you knew what I wanted for breakfast and what I wanted to do for my birthday, so I can’t imagine you got me a birthday present I’d hate.”

“Yeah, this one’s a bit of a commitment, though,” Calum says. “Like, the thing is the present, but it’s also not.”

“What about instead of being really cryptic, you just give it to me?” Michael suggests. He has total confidence in Calum. If the present is something Michael doesn’t like, Michael will eat his shirt.

“So you want it now?” Calum says. “Don’t want to finish your waffles first?”

“Well, you’re kind of building the suspense here, love,” Michael says, grinning and shaking his head. “Just give it to me when you want to give it to me.”

“No, I mean. Okay. I have to go and get it.” Calum shifts, then says, “Finish your breakfast and I’ll go get your present and then I’ll give it to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Michael says, amused. Calum sidles past him, dropping a kiss to his temple as he goes, and leaves. Michael chuckles to himself and takes the last few bites of his waffles — which are delicious, of course, fluffy and warm and not too limp or too crunchy. Calum’s only mastered a few culinary arts, but one of them is breakfast. They work well like that; Calum knows how to make Michael’s favorite category of food.

While Calum is retrieving the enigmatic birthday gift, Michael turns his phone over on the tabletop and finally starts reading through the myriad messages previewed on the lock screen. Luke and Ashton had both texted at midnight exactly, so there’s nothing new from them this morning, but basically everyone else Michael has ever met is wishing him a happy birthday on every single social media platform he has. Just then he hears Calum’s footsteps behind him, and he flips his phone facedown on the table again. 

He can get to the birthday messages later. He will. But they’re not going anywhere, and Michael wants to spend this time with his boyfriend, his best friend, his favorite person.

Also, he’s dying of curiosity about the birthday present.

“You done?” Calum asks, gliding back into the room with grace. Michael eyes him; he’s hiding something behind his back but it must be small, because Michael can’t see it. Obligingly, he lays his fork and knife across the plate and pushes it away from him.

“I’m done,” he confirms. “Present time?”

Calum rocks back and forth on his feet. “Okay. But you need to be standing for it or else the effect is ruined.”

“The effect of the birthday present?” Michael says drily, but he doesn’t argue, just gets to his feet, mirroring Calum’s stance by linking his hands together behind his back and giving Calum a cheeky smile. “How’s this?”

Calum shuffles backwards a bit until there’s just about one arm’s length between them. “Perfect. You’re perfect.”

He inhales deeply, exhales, and then falls to one knee, holding out in front of him what he’s been concealing behind his back: an engagement ring.

Michael’s hands fly to his mouth. 

“Oh,” he breathes into his palms. “Calum.”

“Let me talk first,” Calum says, smiling up at Michael, and then he laughs a bit. “I don’t know if you can tell that I’m really fucking nervous. I’ve tried to be really cool about it, because I can’t see why you’d say no, but still — I’m scared as fuck. But I’m going to let you save your answer until I’m done talking so that even if you say no you still get an ego boost.” Michael laughs shakily. Tears glaze over his eyes, and as he blinks them away one slides down his face.

Calum pulls the ring towards him, still gazing up at Michael. “So…where do I start, Michael Clifford? My best friend of at least ten years, my boyfriend for the last seven, my favorite person to fall asleep next to, the only person I’d ever learn to cook for. I mean, I never really learned, but I would. I will.”

“You don’t have to,” Michael manages, somehow laughing even though he’s definitely also crying.

Calum giggles, and it’s obvious he’s also trying not to cry. “Let me finish, I’m trying to propose!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Anyway, I just…I just love you so much, Michael.” When Michael blinks again, a vain attempt to clear his blurring vision, their eyes meet, and Calum’s words have never been more obvious from the expression on his face. “I…before us, I thought that I got it. Like, I thought I knew what it meant to be in love. But —” He shakes his head. “I so, so didn’t. I thought that sometimes love hurt, but with you it never does. Seven years, Michael, and it’s never hurt to be in love with you. You are one of the — no, fuck it. You are the smartest, sweetest, sexiest,” — Michael breaks out with another laugh — “most driven and charismatic person I’ve ever met, and you shine even when you think you don’t, but especially when you do. I swear there’s nothing I love more than to see you onstage. It’s like watching a fireworks display. Fuck, that’s really cliché. Shit, I thought I’d get through this before I started crying.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand, cutting off a stray tear as it slips down his cheek. “That’s probably a good sign I should wrap it up, then. So, uh, Michael Gordon Clifford with the worst middle name in the history of ever, will you marry me?”

“Yes, of course I will,” Michael says breathlessly, holding out a hand to help Calum up. “Of course I’ll marry you, I fucking love you.”

Calum’s smile is so broad it almost makes his eyes disappear completely. “Thank God.” He takes Michael’s hand and staggers to his feet, and Michael throws his arms around Calum, too overwhelmed for words, though he knows he doesn’t need them; Calum’s said it all, and anything he hasn’t said he definitely already knows. 

Calum kisses Michael’s neck. “Technically I haven’t even given you the present yet.”

“Calum,” Michael says, leaning away so he can see Calum’s face in its entirety, all the dips and curves and creases and the laugh lines and the deep brown of his eyes and every inch. “You’ve given me the present every day for the last seven years.”

Calum huffs, lips pulled upward, and he draws Michael into a kiss, one that’s doomed from the start for the way neither of them can stop smiling long enough to turn it into anything real. 

“That was cheesy, but I just proposed, so I’ll let you have it,” Calum murmurs against Michael’s mouth. He laughs. “Oh, fuck, I love you. Can I give you the ring?”

“Yes, please do.”

Calum fumbles with the ring box until he extracts the ring, then takes Michael’s left hand and slides it on. “Beautiful.”

“It is,” Michael says reverently, gazing at the crystal and then holding it up so he can see Calum at the same time. 

“So?” Calum says hopefully, tilting his head. “How would you rate this birthday present?”

Michael does a double-take. He’d completely forgotten his birthday in the excitement. “Ten thousand out of ten,” he says, and kisses Calum sweetly on the lips. “You’re going to have a lot of trouble topping this for my 26th, though.”

Calum just laughs, like he knows what Michael knows: that the promise of spending every birthday for the rest of his life with Calum is a gift Michael will keep receiving every year, and nothing could ever beat that.

#mgc25 #michael clifford #calum hood #malum #malum fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #really waited til the last second here didn't i #WELL! important thing is i got it done #the love song i was looping was thanks for choosing me by lucy spraggan #and yes. i do want everyone to listen to it #because i love it #it's like. it's such a good love song. one of the best love songs ive ever heard honestly #oh shit i have to go do my laundry #okay! posting and leaving #for some reason posting fic on tumblr is SO STRESSFUL #i hateeeeeeeee #oh well !! that's life #omg okay stress stress POSTING NOW BYE

[whittakerjodie]

The Pocky Game ( 13th Doctor X Reader )

Prompt: Yaz, your wingman, has a list of ideas to get you together with the Doctor. The Doctor stumbles upon it and is quite eager to try a certain one Requested by: my own gay self 

A/N Surprise I’m not dead i’ve just got TWO multichapters going and this hit me out of no where. Shoutout to the ‘Thirsting for 13′ GC for helping me with ideas. 

Words: 1.6k

   It was an abnormally quiet day in the TARDIS. The companions had been sent home so the Doctor and you could do some much-needed repairs- “The doctor and you” meaning she was doing the repairs and you were handing her tools and talking into thin air. She was on her back, digging upwards into the console with her tongue between her lips. You were rambling about what might happen if a Silence and a weeping angel were in the same room together, but your attention was all dedicated to her. 

   You were far from ashamed to admit how hot her current look was. Even the dorky steampunk goggles that hid her stunning eyes from view seemed like a gift from the gods to you personally. Briefly, you wondered what would happen if you leaned over and kissed her senseless right then and there. Would she push you away? Or would she pull you in for more, forgetting about everything else she was doing? God. 

   Your phone pinged. You only ever used it to contact the companions, so you were 33% sure who it was. Yaz’s name flashed across the screen along with the text: 

How’s it going?

    It ended with at least five winking emojis, and you shook your head, chuckling. Yaz was more than aware of your crush on your fellow timelord, a result of many impromptu rants. Since the first time you’d freaked out and accidentally let slip how much you adored the way her face scrunched up and you really wished she’d stop for your sanity's sake, Yaz had become your wing-man. 

It’s going, You texted back. She’s messing with the TARDIS, not doing much else. 

Boring 

Trust me, I know. 

I’ve got some ideas i’ve put together

DON’T LAUGH very serious business going on here. 

  A few minutes later your phone pinged again and you opened the link she’d sent you. It was a google document of all things, and you raised a brow when you saw that all three companions were currently editing it. They must’ve realized you had arrived, because Ryan and Graham quickly logged off. The document contained three separate lists, all ideas for getting you and the Doctor together. 

“What're you smiling at?” 

   You yelped and jumped back, hitting your head on the console with a loud thud. You dropped your phone so you could rub at your head, groaning in pain. The Doctor tsked and cupped your head, grabbing your phone for you. 

“It’s just-” you hissed again, trying to think of an excuse. “It's.. a list of fun games?” 

“OOOO!” She cried. She flung her goggles off her head and her face scrunched up excitedly. She turned your phone over, scrolling through the document. Heart pounding, you lunged forward to rip it out of her hands. She looked offended, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What’s the ‘Pocky Game’, then?” 

   You shrugged, trying to pretend like everything was normal. Inside, however, your nerves were on fire and you needed to get away from her to offset the urge to give her the biggest smooch in the universe. 

“Not sure… I’m off to take a shower, see you soon!” Clutching your phone to your chest like she’d rediscover the companions plans, you scampered down the hall. Behind you, the Doctor curiously stood up off the floor and brought up a computer screen to begin her research. 

_______________

   When you were calmed down, you made your way to the library for some light reading. You weren’t surprised to see the Doctor on one of the couch, but your curiosity peaked when you saw that there was no book in her hand. She was sitting criss-cross, a red box in her lap. 

“Doctor?” You asked softly. She turned and your heart soared at the excited look in her eyes. Someone call the shadow proclamation, you thought to yourself I��m pretty sure it’s illegal for her to be this cute. 

   She patted the couch beside her, opening the box in your lap. The label read ‘pocky’ the foodstuff Yaz had mentioned in the document. You plopped down on the cushion, folding your hands in your lap. 

“I’ve done some research” She whispered excitedly. She opened the inner package and pulled out one of the “Pockys” . It was a long wafer stick, the majority of which was covered in chocolate. “Seems fun.” 

“The Pocky game? What do you do” 

“You get a friend, you being my friend” You hoped your wince wasn’t obvious. “And one person holds the Pocky in their mouth at the end, and the other holds on to the other end with their mouth” 

You froze. She… she wanted you to hold that in your mouth? While she held the other end of it?

“Here lets try '' She placed the chocolate end in between her lips, and your breath hitched as she cupped your face, bringing you towards it. You hesitantly took the other end into your mouth, facing warming at the closeness. You could feel her breath on your skin, soft and warm. It sent your mind into a whirlwind You didn’t want to talk with food in your mouth. Apparently the Doctor didn’t mind. 

“Both of us bite down, until it's almost gone, and whoever pulls away first loses” To showcase her point, she bit down on the snack, bringing her face significantly close to yours. You gasped in surprise, and she watched you expectantly. 

   Slowly, you took your bite, heart beating out of your chest as the two of you grew closer still. You took your turns rather quickly and you were overwhelmed by how fast you were approaching her lips. Two more bites and you could easily press your own against them, fulfilling a dream that plagued your mind for far too long. You took a bite. 

Millimeters away. She waited a moment before swiftly taking her bite, and for a moment you thought she really was going to snog you senseless. Then, your end of the pocky fell out of your mouth and she jumped back, arms shooting into the air. 

“YES! I won!” She cheered. You stared at her in disbelief, your lips still in position for a kiss. How- How could she do all that and not kiss me? 

“Rematch” You demanded. 

“Oh, I don’t know Y/N” She teased, waving another pocky in the air. “I think I’ve just begun a winning streak” 

   You groaned and pulled her hand towards you, shoving the end of the wafer into your mouth to begin the second game. No way was she getting away this time. Unfortunately for you, she’d been right in claiming that her winning streak was just beginning. She won the second game, then the third, then the fourth, and so on until you were nearly steaming from the ears. You could swear she was tugging on the pocky to make you lose. 

   The last pocky was pulled out of the package, and you were determined to seal the deal. Your bites weren’t slow anymore. The two of you quickly sawed through it. You nearly lunged forward with each bite, lips tingling as if they were magnetically attracted to hers. You needed them, badly. 

   Just when you were about to claim them, she tugged. She honest-to-god tugged. You groaned in frustration, pulling back and flopping back into the couch with your head in your  hands. She was laughing, celebrating her win. 

    You felt like punching the couch beneath you. How was she that cute and oblivious? She seemed to notice your frustration and sat closer to you. 

“Y/N?” She asked. She pried your hands from your face, peering down at you with soft eyes. “I can get another box, if you want to try again.” 

   You looked at her hands, which were still holding yours. She really was ridiculous, wasn’t she? Fuck it. 

  You used your joined hands to pull her downward, smashing your lips against hers. She grunted in surprise and for a moment she was so tense you almost cut the kiss off to apologize. But then she was towering over you, leaning in with all her weight. 

   The position was a little awkward, but being able to finally kiss her like you’d always wanted to made up for anything and everything that had ever inconvenienced you. Your lips met again and again as if every second they were separated was a second wasted. 

“Damn your competitiveness” You whispered against her lips. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” 

She blushed and you fiddled with the sleeves of her shirt. 

“That list of games… Yaz created it so I could finally get together with you.” 

“Yeah?” She whispered excitedly. You grinned; she looked like a kid that had just opened a Christmas present. “We don’t need games for that… you can kiss me anytime you’d like” 

You blinked at her tone. It was like she was pointing out something obvious that only you didn’t know. Part of you felt irritated; she was always acting so oblivious and goofy and here she was, telling you that you could’ve been kissing on her all this time? 

“Doctor.” You grumbled. She nodded, leaning in closer. “I’d like to kiss you now.” 

Her lips were back on yours before you’d even finished the sentence.

#13th doctor x reader #13th doctor imagine #jodie whittaker #doctor who #13th doctor #doctor who imagine #wlw imagine #thirteeth doctor x reader

[windhamsrotunda]

STU GRAYSON X PARKER, (@lancearcherinrippedjeans / @luciddrreamss) BRODIE LEE X SHAR - LET ME LIVE THAT FANTASY PART 2

A/N - I WORKED REALLY HARD ON THIS FIC, HOPE YOU LIKE IT PARKER!!

(Previous Summary - Shar and Parker win a meet and greet to meet the Dark Order of AEW. Obviously, it's obvious that Parker has a crush on Stu, while Shar has a crush on Mr. Brodie. What will happen next?)

Rating / Genre - Romance / Smut.

Warning(s) - FLUFF AND SMUT!!! // STRONG LANGUAGE (17+)

Word Count - 2,038

(PREVIOUSLY)

Shar fell over, and Parker had to catch her. "DAMN SHAR!." She yelled, as Shar was basically smothering them with her 117 pound weight. "You good?" A random dude asked, Shar was laying ontop of Parker. Awkward…..

Once Shar and Parker got home, they decided to make dinner for themselves. Since Parker's mom and dad were not there, Shar spoke: "Hmm, wonder why Brodie hasn't texted me yet, he directly told me that he would text me right away." Staring down at her phone in her hand, Parker made a pfft sound and sarcastically said: "Just don't worry about it, now please help me with these lasagna noodles." Sighing, Shar got right on top of it. Her small hands carefully handled the lasagna noodle box, ripped it open without any effort and poured it into the boiling water that was in the silver pot. Parker was distracted at first, because she was looking at Stu Grayson's shirtless photos on instagram, casually scrolling through her newsfeed. Heavy breathing erupted their lips as their eyes were fixed on Stu Grayson's ab's. "You okay?" Snorted Shar, now stirring the pot of noodles. Parker stood there, buried down deep into her phone: "Yeah---- it's all good homie." She replied with a slight beat red on their face, drooling a little. "Lemme guess, Stu again?" Guessed Shar, very concerned of how the lasagna will turn out.

"Oh. My. God. SHAR YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!" Parker pointed repeatedly at her phone, shoving the phone at Shar to see the picture of Stu gripping a towel over his waist. "What the—-" "NO QUESTIONS!" She erupts, startling the living shit out of their friend Shar. In result, Shar's baby hands were now covered in pasta sauce. "DAMN IT." She yelled, groaning,  yet again trying not to mix into a laughing matter. She had to sprint outside so quick, that Parker yelled once more: "FAM WHERE YOU GOING? IT WAS JUST A PICTURE!" Shar ducked down into the bushes, she grabbed out her phone, then admired the shirtless picture of Mr. Brodie Lee; well, she couldn't blame her friend Parker for erupting like that! What if you find a----- "Shar!" A voice called behind her, it was Parker, of course. Standing right behind her, Shar turned her head slightly, and a grin crept underneath her face. "Yessss?" "FAM, WHAT IS IT?" Parker's curiosity bellowed in their voice, Shar crouched down lower in the bushes. Eyes glued onto her phone, she wastes no time but to search through her messages. Still no text from Brodie! Thought her.

***A week later time frame, 10:00pm***

Parker and Shar were now doing homework online, helping each other out. Despite that they were one or two grades separate from each other; That didn't stop them from helping! "Hey uhm, Shar could you please do me a favor and get me an iced tea out of the fridge?" Favored Parker, yawning a little bit. "Of course love." Replied Shar, getting up and walking down the stairs to get the iced tea Parker asked for. "This is my chance." She thought, a devious smile played upon her face. Looking in the direction where their friend had gone, she opened Shar's phone. "Let's see… contacts… here it is." She muttered to theirself, shooting Brodie a quick text pretending to be Shar: "Heyyy.. wanna hang out Saturday when you're free?" She waited. A quick text back from Brodie read: "Yeah. Let's do it." Perfect! Laughing to theirself, Parker closed the phone and put it down before Shar could even notice.

"Here you are, I am so sorry it took me this long." Shar had entered the room with two drinks in her hand, a Mountain Dew for her and an Iced Tea for Parker. "Thankk you," said Parker as Shar set the drinks down next to the two of them. Smiling in return, she twiddled with her mechanical pencil, jotting down notes as quickly as she can. "What's the function?" Inquired Shar, helping Parker out. They were working on Math work, of course. "Ummmmmm." A long umm escaped her lips, facial expression puzzled. "I believe it's Y?" She questioned, "Correct! Good job!" Shar patted her friend on the back and gave a smile once more. "Thanks fam." Sipping straight out of the straw, Parker yawned again. "Shar, can we finish this all tomorrow morning?" Questions them for approval, Shar nods in agreement. "Yeah, we sure can do that." She agreed, then gently closed the MacBook that still had a tab opened. 

"You're getting tired?" Shar questioned, about to head to bed herself. "Yeah, might as well call it a night. Like I said, we can finish this all in the morning." Said Parker in between yawns; "Okay, so be it." She answered. "Goosenight, Mrs. Grayson." Head falling right onto the pillow, Parker replied with: "Good night, Mrs. Lee." Jokingly. As the night of November was howling into their window, Parker slept with one eye opened. Slowly maturely getting up off their bed, she grabbed Shar's phone again but this time silently and carefully. Shar was a heavy sleeper; anything could not wake her up at this time of night. "Brodie, can we video chat?" She typed into their discussion. A few minutes later, Brodie read the text. "Okay, give me a second Shar." He replies back. Gritting their teeth, Parker had something planned in mind. She put Shar's headphones in her ears carefully, then hooked it up to her phone on silent. "Brodie Lee" it said right on the screen, she automatically pressed: "Accept." "Hi." Said Brodie. "Fuck fuck, I gotta pretend to be her!" Parker thinks, then pushed the phone towards Shar's face, their hands adjusting as if she was holding the phone herself. "Eh…." Shar said in her sleep.

"You okay?" Asks Brodie in concern, looking upon Shar as her eyes grew weary. "Yeah I'm okay fam—- I mean, Brodie." Parker clenched her teeth, trying to make it sound like Shar was actually communicating with Brodie. At this time of night, Brodie had to be shirtless and laying in his bed, alone of course. She moved Shar's free hand back and forth signaling a "Hello". "Um, you're acting a bit odd. Is everything okay??" Inquires Brodie, concern washed over his face. "Yeah" says Parker, toning their voice into Shar's. "Ooookay.." says Brodie slowly, unsure of what is going to happen next. "Uh yeah I gotta go byeeee" She clicked the "end" button and gritted their teeth again. 

***THE NEXT MORNING***

Parker stretched and groaned, rubbing their eyes. She then realized that Shar was gone. "Fuck." She stared down at the end of Shar's bed, just now sitting up, she scrambled to her feet to find a note that says: "Went out with Brodie. Be back later on tonight. -Shar." Welp. She grabbed her phone off of her nightstand and began to text Stu asking: "Yoooo, Stoo. You want to come over?" He replies: "Of course! I want to come over! Where are you located?" "****, ***** Ville Street, come on over fam." Texting back, she set their phone down. While waiting on Stu Grayson to arrive, she posted her daily editing videos of the Dark Order; and in her drafts, was an official Stu Grayson video that was s*xual. 

Ever since she found that picture of Stu Grayson, she was basically thirsting over him as their emotions ran wild like a lion feasting over prey. "God I love you…." Parker whispered to her phone, kissing it, referring to Stu. Suddenly, the door bell rang. "Shit, man. That's probably him!" She said aloud, froze dead in their tracks and just now had realized she and Stu would be all alone together. Smirking, Parker rubbed their hands together and laughed aloud. "This is gonna be so great!" She gleamed in beaming joy, as she slipped on their vans, she darted towards the door, then opened it. In their own state of mind, Stu entered the house greeting Parker with a sly smile and a "Hi Parker". She smiled back and pushed their glasses up. "Welcome, Stu." "Where is that girl named Shar? I thought she lived with you?" He asked, seemingly confused. "Yeah, she does. But she's with Brodie somewhere." Parker informed Stu, "Anyways; what would you like to do when you're here?" "Fuck." Thought Parker, she was thinking with their crotch, like ever since she saw that one sexy photo of Stu; she couldn't get their mind off him.

"Hmmm… watch a movie?" Asks Stu, stroking his beard with his delicate fingers. Those delicate fingers, however, wanted to be on Parker. "Yeah!" She shook her head, feeling a bit daydreamy. But she shook it off to make it not seem obvious that she wanted to fuck Stu. "Sounds like a plan, sam." Stu smiled again, punching Parker slightly on the shoulder gently. Rubbing their arm, she nodded and he followed right behind her. "What movie?" says Stu, browsing through the movies crouching down. "LET'S WATCH A ROMANTIC MOVIE." She blurted out, Stu began to laugh. 

"You're so cute Parker…" compliments Stu in his glorifying voice, making them blush. "Awee… thanks!" She giggled, then they both went to the couch to put on a romance movie. During the movie, Stu had his arms crossed, scrutinizing the movie as Parker asked: "Can I snuggle with you?" He looked quite surprised, but said a quick "Yes" in return. Parker laid their head on Stu's shoulder, a tight grip on his arm muscle. This was going to be a great outcome of the movie time. It struck 11am on the clock, almost 12; so Shar shouldn't get back by later on tonight, thinks Parker. Stu moved his head over towards his friend Parker's direction, looking at them focused on the movie and eating some popcorn. "You want some?" She inquires, he said: "Of course." And grabbed some popcorn out of her hand, beginning to eat it. * A few minutes later*

***SMUT AHEAD***

A heaty scene came on the big screen, of course it was romantic, yet erotic. "Okay we need to like turn this off----" Stu cut Parker off with an index finger over their lip, smirking. "What? You're embarrassed of a little heat?" He cooes, starting to make a move that Parker had never imagined before. She blushed heavily, swooning. As his delicate fingers brushed up against her jawline, Parker shot their head up. Watching his every move that he made, she pushed him down onto the couch and without further a do, Parker kissed him long and hard. Breathing in between kisses, Stu was amazed at how Parker could blow him away. "I want you. And that's final." Stu grunted, switching Parker to the bottom, as he crawled ontop, he began to unbuckle his belt. "I'm gonna make serious blazing love to you, my sweet plum." 

All Parker had to say was the words: "Do it." Stu grinned, "I don't care if it's still morning, but I will love you. I'll let you live that fantasy." (Reciting from Lorde's Royals); Going slow without freaking them out, Stu trailed sloppy kisses down Parker's ribcage, and flipped them over. "You're sweet as sugar, hot as the sun." His Shakespeare recitings had impressed Parker, but Parker, on the other hand, had something in mind. "Wait." She stopped Stu, before Stu could fuck them, Parker let their hair down. "How about…." She trailed their words, into deep hot breaths; "I take control." "Show me what you got." A smile played upon their faces, Parker carefully took a piece of clothing off, like her top and straddled Stu. "God, fucking hot Parker." Stu moaned, smirking under that glorious sight he was seeing, "Mmmm…." She bit their bottom lip, taking Stu's pants off, no need to take his shirt off since he was already shirtless. Running their hands down Stu's chest, down to his love; Parker eyed him, a long loving eyeing, then began to quickly unfasten his pants and did the thing.

"OH FUCK! Feels so good!" Stu booms, as he was getting blowed, gripping Parker's curly hair and interwining his fingers into their hair. "I love you…." She sucked in between breaths, taking it to another level.

***TO BE CONTINUED***

#brodieleeimagine #stu grayson #aew one shot #aew fanfiction #aew wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling #darkorderimagine

[supertmntgirl]

Angel Dust x Fem!Reader Ch.3

Hey y’all, I’m actually early! The reason being is that I was actually able to get through the Disney College Program application process a lot faster than I thought I would. While waiting for my phone interview, I decided to knock this out right away so I could spend the rest of my time preparing for it. Anyway, onto the chapter.

Summary: After a sudden accident and some misspoken words, your new found friendship with Angel Dust may come to an unexpected end, or will it?

After that night at the bar, things kept getting better and better for you. In the following months, you excelled at work even though the studio kept bringing in more and more editors and technicians. Since you had been there for so long and you had so much experience, you were promoted to head of your department. This meant that you got your own corner office and a huge raise.

Not only did your work life improve, but so did your social life. Angel Dust had been able to bring you out of your shell like no one else had. Anytime there was an excuse to go out, whether it be to party, help Cherri Bomb defend her territory, or just to hang out. Angel would grab you by the arm and take you along with him. You didn’t mind though, every minute you spent with him was arguably the best time you ever had.

Vix started to get jealous of how much you enjoyed spending time with him. She even accused you of having a crush on the gay pornstar, which you completely denied. Even though you held no romantic feelings for him, you couldn’t deny the fact you two had a special connection. What that connection was, you weren’t entirely sure. But little did you know, that connection would soon be tested in a way you least expected it.

Early one evening you were in your apartment taking a long shower. There had been a lot of problems with a new payment system the studio started using that took nearly all of your time and attention to fix. Even with all the progress you made, you weren’t able to completely fix the problem which stressed you out to no end. 

You hoped that the hot water running down your body would wash away the stress from the day. An agitated sigh escapes your lips, realizing only half of your stress was gone. Turning off the running water, you step out of the shower and grab a towel from the nearby rack.

‘Maybe Angel or Vix will want to do something tonight.’ you think to yourself as you wrap the towel around yourself. Opening the bathroom door, you walk out into your empty apartment. At least you thought it was empty, not realizing that someone was waiting for you.

“Hello (Y/n)~”

You scream loudly and stumble backwards a few steps. You turn towards the voice and see Angel Dust laying on your couch in a seductive way. You take a few breaths to calm down as Angel starts to chuckle.

“How the fuck did you get in here?!” you exclaim while pulling your towel around you tighter.

“You left one of your keys at my place. Thought I might return it.” he responds calmly while standing up.

“You could’ve just texted me you had it.” you point out, feeling your face burning up as Angel started walking towards you.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks while stopping right in front of you. You shudder slightly as his lower left hand brushed against your knee. 

“I didn’t know you had another scar.” he whispers in your ear while gently caressing your knee right where the scar was. “I wonder where this one ends~” He slowly drags his hand up your leg. You slap it away when he was just short of the end of your towel. You had gotten used to his flirtatious ways, even finding some of them to be rather adorable. But this was going way too far, even for him.

“That’s enough Angel.” you say quickly while sliding away from him to get to your closet.

“Aww~ what’s wrong? I thought you liked me touching you like that.” he says playfully as you grabbed a pair of pajamas out of your closet.

“When I was fully clothed and in public when it didn’t mean anything. It’s different here.” you respond while pulling the clothes close to your chest. You start to walk back to the bathroom when Angel grabs your arm, causing you to look back at him.

“It suggests us crossing a line that I don’t want to cross with you.” you say while trying to pry his hand off your arm.

“Come on (Y/n), don’t be cruel.” he purrs while gently pulling you closer to him, causing you to start trembling.

“Angel let go!!!” you yell as you ripped your arm out of his grasp. As you stepped backwards, you slipped on the puddle of water that had started to pool at your feet. You lost your balance and fell backwards, causing you to drop the clothes in your arms. Closing your eyes, you felt the hard floor as you landed on your side. Groan in pain, you grab your shoulder and slowly sit up.

“Oh fuck, I’m sor-“ Angel cuts himself off, making you look up at him. He was leaning over to help you up but he appeared to be frozen with a look of shock across his face. Slightly confused, you glance down to see what Angel had in his hand. Horror hits you like a truck as you realize it was your towel.

Looking down, you find yourself staring at your naked form. You feel tears forming as you fold your arms across your chest. One tear falls as you cross your legs to hide the remains of your former life.

“(Y-y/n) I-“ 

You cut him off by snatching the towel from him, not even daring to look up.

“Get out….” you mumble while covering yourself up the best you could.

“I-i didn’t-“ Angel started before you glare up at him, cutting him off.

“I said….GET OUT!!!!” you scream at him, causing him to stumble a bit before running to the door. He pulled it open and slammed it shut behind him. You hear his hurried steps getting further and further away. As soon as you couldn’t hear them anymore, you let the flood gates open as tears roll down your face.

“I can’t believe that happened….” you choke out while curling up into a ball. You didn’t even bother to get up from the floor, still caught up in the horror of Angel catching you at your most vulnerable. It was safe to say that you didn’t go out that night.

~~~~Time Skip~~~~

A week had passed since Angel had payed you a visit and you haven’t talked since then. You were trying to avoid having the uncomfortable conversation you knew you had to have, too frightened about what Angel now thought about you. You had planned on telling him you were transgender, but you didn’t mean for him to find out so soon in such a way. You were worrying so much about everything that happened, you had a hard time concentrating at work.

You groan in frustration as you made yet another mistake in the current project you were working on. Turning off your computer monitor, you push your chair away from the desk. Rolling your shoulders, you groan as you felt the shoulder you landed on pop. 

‘I need to talk to Angel before I lose my job….’ you think to yourself while cracking your knuckles to loosen up your fingers. A knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts.

“I don’t have time to look over your video editing Sai. Ask Ella.” you call out as you reached over and grabbed some papers out of your mail box.

You hear your office door creak open, making you sigh in annoyance. You look up at the door to yell at who you thought was Sai, only to find a bashful looking Angel Dust peaking his head through the crack.

“Not Sai….” he chuckles nervously. You didn’t share his forced amusement as you went back to the papers in your hands. Angel lets out a shaky sigh as he opens the door and slips into your office.

“Can we talk? About…ya know?” Angel asks while closing the door behind him. The door clicking shut made you look up at him.

“I’d rather not talk about this here.” you say quietly before putting the paper down again and pretending to focus back on your computer screen.

“We have the privacy. No one would try entering your office with the door closed.” Angel says reassuringly while taking a few steps closer to you.

“I said not now Angel.” you reply in a harsher tone then you intended to, causing Angel to flinch slightly. A few seconds of silence pass before Angel slams a hand down on your desk, making you look up at him.

“When can we talk then?!” Angel exclaims, starting to pace back and forth in front of you. “You blow me off for a fucking week and now that we’re actually in the same room together, you just want to ignore me.”

“That’s not it Angel….” you say gently while turning towards him.

“Then what is it then?!” he asks while leaning against your desk and bending over to look you in the eye.

“I was planning on telling you that I-“

“-Have a dick?” he interrupts you, causing your heart rate to increase as you felt your skin start to heat up.

“Please don’t say it like that.” you say with your voice shaking a bit, trying to keep your anger under control.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal outta this. I’ve had plenty of customers that were trans.” Angel says, causing you to give him a death glare.

“I’m not one of your customers Angel. I am supposed to be your friend, who you should respect enough to at least try to understand why this is so important to me.” you respond while slowly rising out of your chair.

“What’s there to understand? You’re transgender, so what? It’s not a big deal.” Angel states while crossing his arms. You freeze for a second, his words cutting through you like a knife.

“Not a big deal?” you repeat, causing Angel to roll his eyes.

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal.” he replies. It took every ounce of your self control not to let the flames slip out from your fingertips.

“You’re right, it’s not a big deal that I was born a male….” you start to ramble as your anger continues to build up inside of you.

“It’s not a big deal that I was bullied for being more feminine than all the other boys. It’s not a big deal that I had no idea who I was until I found out that I was a woman trapped in a man’s body at the age of 15.”

Angel watches as you start to walk around the length of your desk. 

“It’s not a big deal that I died because of others seeing me as a freak. It’s not a big deal that I have to spend eternity in hell being stuck as half man, continuing to feel as though I am pretending to be someone I’m not.” you continue, stopping in front of Angel who was now completely silent.

“If me feeling as though I’m trapped in my own body and thinking that everyone around me knows I am a freak. Then yes Angel Dust, it’s not a big deal that I’m transgender.” you finish, making sure to put the emphasis on Angel’s name to get a response from him.

“I-I didn’t….t-that’s not what I….” Angel stutters, causing you to huff in annoyance. You grab his arm tightly and drag him over to the door. 

“Until you figure what to say and how to properly say it, you and I have nothing left to talk about.” you say while opening the door and throwing Angel out of your office. You were able to see the hurt look he gave you before slamming the door in his face.

~~~~Angel’s POV~~~~

Angel stared at your office door for a long time, trying to process everything that just happened. You had just told him so many things that bothered you in life and in death, but that was barely the tip of the iceberg. Angel slowly stands up and rubs his arm gently. The fabric of his suit jacket felt slightly different than it normally did under his touch, even with his gloves on. He looks down and sees a scorched hand print on his sleeve where you had grabbed him. A horrible pain filled his chest as Angel looked back towards your door. He had just made you as mad as Chad did back at the bar. Just that thought alone made Angel sick to his stomach. He didn’t know what to say, do, or even think. He just started walking.

Angel didn’t pay attention to where he was going as he made his way out of the Porn Studios building. As he was walking down the streets, demons watched and catcalled him, but he didn’t notice any of them. He just kept replaying everything you said in his head over and over again. He was only vaguely aware of where he was as he walked into a nearby coffee shop. He walked towards the nearest empty table and plopped down. So many thoughts, questions, and feelings swirled around inside of Angel. But the one question that always came back more than anything else was “What now?”. Angel was forced out of his thoughts by a sudden back hand to the head.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” Angel mumbles as he rubs the back of his head.

“What the hell did you do?”

Angel looks up and sees a very pissed off Vix sitting down across from him.

“What?” he asks, still in a daze from his previous thoughts and from getting hit.

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with (Y/n) for the past 3 days. About ten minutes ago she said that she didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. When I asked why, guess what she replied with.” Vix responds, causing Angel to shake his head slightly in response.

“She said “Ask Angel Dust”. What the hell did you do to her?!”

Angel flinches at her harsh tone and slowly looks down at his hands. He felt like he was being put on trial, which he basically was. After a few shaky breaths, Angel tells Vix everything that happened that led up to this moment. He made sure to lower his voice at the more sensitive parts of the story. Once he was done, Vix could only stare at him in disbelief. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, which only made Angel Dust feel even worse than he already did.

“I didn’t think (Y/n) could get that mad at someone other than Chad.” Vix whispers while gesturing to Angel’s sleeve.

“What should I do?” Angel asked with his voice cracking, trying hard to keep his emotions under control.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do right now.” she responds, causing Angel to look down at his hands once again. Angel barely moves when Vix gently takes one of his hands into her’s. “Whenever she gets like this, it’s best to let her cool down before trying to talk to her again.”

“And when will that be?!” he snaps back, causing Vix to jump at his sudden mood change. “Sorry….it’s just that I don’t want to become someone who she can’t even look at without getting mad….like Chad.” Angel looks down at his sleeve and gentle feels the burnt fabric.

“That won’t happen.” 

“How do you know that?” Angel looks at Vix with misty eyes, causing her to squeeze his hand comfortingly.

“I’ve never seen anyone help (Y/n) open up more than you have. I’ve known her practically since day 1 and I’ve never once seen her as happy as she’s been with you.” Vix says while standing up and pushing in her chair. She goes to Angel’s side and gives him a one armed hug. “She’ll come around, just give it some time.”

Angel watches as Vix walks out of the coffee shop, leaving him alone. Angel lets Vix’s advice sink in as he thought of what to do next. Logically, it was a good idea to let you calm down a bit before trying to talk again. Plus, it would also give him time to think about what he would say once you did meet up again. But there was something in the back of Angel’s mind telling him that was a bad idea. He couldn’t help but feel that the more time you spent apart, the more you’d end up resenting him. Angel’s head told him to wait, but his heart told him to act now. As Angel debated at what he should do, his gaze slowly went back to his ruined suit sleeve. Angel lays his hand over your hand print, knowing exactly what he had to do. Angel quickly pulls out his phone to check the time. The bright screen told him that it was almost 8:30.

“She should be home by now….” he mumbles to himself while putting his phone back in his pocket. Angel stands up and races out of the coffee shop, heading straight to your apartment building. 

@hazbintrashftw

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #angel dust x reader

[camistired]

the peculiar one

chp. 1 // an emotional beginning

not edited

december 31, 2018

word count: 2671

song: alice by avril lavigne

—

On this particular humid summer day, I find myself asking the same question I always ask myself when I know it's not going to go anywhere good.

‘Why am I here?’

Four simple words that I usually used as an excuse to not move from under my comforter. Four simple words that I used to stay in room and read a couple of my mom's old journal entries. Four simple words that don't mean anything simple.

But today, they weren't going to do much and change my plans.

For the entire summer after I learned that I was able to attend public school again, I've been trying to work on getting a better habit of actually doing things and not being locked in my room. And today was no exception.

I lazily raise my head from the pillow and begrudgingly climb out of bed. I grab my towel off of my chair before trudging into my bathroom. I quickly strip from my sweats, baggy shirt, and undergarments before hopping into the warm water of the shower.

I don't know what I was going to do today. I knew that both Lila and Mar were going to be busy at work and the only person home was going to be Dannie, who usually minded his own business.

With a silent, frustrated sigh I began wash myself with body wash that was scented to smell like cherry blossoms. I don't know how or why I was attracted to the smell but I didn't do much questioning of it.

I stuck my head under the water, letting my purplish tinted silver hair get drenched with the pellets of the warm water. I wipe the water from my eyes, contemplating on whether to wash my hair or not. Deciding against it, I turned the water off and climb out into the bathroom. I wrap myself in my towel before walking back into the main part of my room.

I walk over to my dresser before pulling out a thin black and white plaid shirt, black jean shorts, and a grayish blue t-shirt. I started getting dress as I hum softly under my breath. I was slipping on my plaid shirt as three quick raps were heard at the door. I move to open the door to see Daniel, his face pale from the blood that drained his face.

“What's wrong, Danny?” I ask, slightly concerned for my brother. He quickly hands me his phone before running into his room, probably to get something.

I look down at the phone in my hands and look at the messages between him and Lila;

From Lila: hey, is Alex up? I've been texting but I'm not getting anything.

From Daniel: she's in the shower, why?

From Lila: it's about dad. his brain activity is working alarmingly unusual

they don't know if something is seriously wrong or if he's waking up

From Lila: hold on, let me call you

My breath hitches as I read the conversation. I quickly slip on a pair of high tops and practically ran down the stairs. Daniel was waiting patiently by the door ready to go.

I handed him back his phone as I turn to open the door only to be greeted with the face that I feel like is always judging me.

“Alice..! What a surprise... What're you doing here?” I force out in a cheerful tone. I never had much family that was around, and I should be greatful for Alice being here, but I feel like the person I read about and the person I see almost everyday is two different people.

“Lillian called and told me about Michael, so I'm here to take you guys to the hospital.” Her tone was strict and left no room to say no, but there was a certain tenderness behind it that would be hard to notice if you were anyone else.

I sigh, knowing I couldn't argue much with the woman in front of me, “Alright, come on let's go.”

She has a small victorious smile on her face as she moves towards the car.

I sigh and look at Daniel who just shrugs and skips towards the car. I roll my eyes and close the door behind me and locking it before getting into the back of Alice's car, seeing as Betty was sitting patiently and bored in the front seat. The engine roared as she switched the gearshift to drive and pulled out the driveway.

As we drew closer to the hospital the knot in my stomach tightened and my breathing sped up into quiet tiny pants. I look out the window to, hopefully, calm my nerves. And, unfortunately, the silence in the car isn't helping one bit. I silently prayed for someone to say something before we get there, but something tells me it isn't going to happen anytime soon.

I felt a small pat on my leg and I look up to see Daniel looking at me with some sort of assurance. I smile softly at him and I rub his shoulder to try and reassure him that I'm okay, but I can tell it does little to nothing to comfort him.

I felt my phone vibrated in my pocket and I pull it out to see it was from Jughead. My nerves calm down a little, but not much. I open the text from my best friend;

From Juggy: hey are you not at home?

no one's opening the door and it's

locked

From Lexi: wowow you show up my

house without notice? and think

you can casually waltz into it like

you own the place?

From Juggy: yea, cause i know you

don't care

From Lexi: what if i was in the shower, eh?

From Juggy: didn't your mom used to make us take baths together when we younger?

From Lexi: we were two and we dragged mud throughout the house. she didn't care at that point

From Lexi: plus we're OLDER now. we might as well be dating if you walked in on me showering

From Juggy: uh-huh

From Juggy: you know you love me

From Lexi: sure

From Lexi: omg, im going to die

From Juggy: im missing the picture here, you're going to die from what?

From Lexi: i can't tell. it's either this thick awkward tension or my anxiety

From Juggy: im still very confused

From Lexi: im on my way to the hospital but im stuck in a car with Danny, Betty, and Alice

From Juggy: alright, i'll meet you there

From Lexi: huh?

From Juggy: idk why you're heading to the hospital, but your stuck in a car with two people you don't know if they hate you or not, so that tells me that it is important

by itself alone

From Juggy: so, i'll meet you at the

hospital

From Juggy: don't know when i'll get there, so good luck until then

The car takes a sharp turn into a free parking spot and before the car jerks to a complete stop, I already had my seat belt off and was sprinting out of car and into the building. I stop myself from going into the room and stop at the receptionist.

“Hi, I'm just double checking, but Michael Nelson is still in room 22-C, correct?” I ask as she checked on her computer for the correct room number.

She nods and looks at me, “Yes he is, miss. Go right ahead.”

“Thank you so much, have a good day.” I rush out before heading down the corridor to the right room that I've been in so many times. I stop at the door and I contemplate going inside for a moment. My hand subconsciously raises up and grasp the door knob before I can even think about what was happening. It was at that moment, I knew I didn't need to think much longer.

I twisted my wrist until I hear the door make a soft 'click'. I pushed the door open and took in the sight in front of me. Lila was sitting at the end of the bed uncomfortable looking bed, her words falling silent in my ears as she talks to the man laying down, who was being covered by a curtain in the room.

I walk in the bland room, the door closing softly behind me. I stalk towards the bed to be greeted with a pair of pale eyes that I'm so used to be closed. My breath gets caught in the back my throat as a small gasp echos through the seemingly empty room. His eyes lock with mine and in a blur of a second, my arms are wrapped around the males neck and quiet whimpers fall from my lips as small tears fall from my eyes.

The feeling of his arms wrapping around my waist to return the embrace made me completely lose it; crocodile tears, full on sobbing, and clinging on to him tighter - scared that the moment I loosen the hold I have on him, he'll leave me again.

I hear the sound of swift footsteps entering the room through my crying as I let out all of my emotions on this one man that I thought I had lost for the rest of my life. The feel the bed shift and more footsteps before the door closes. I'm suddenly pulled closer and I'm, now, laying on the fragile man you seems to not even give a care in the world that I'm laying on him.

For a moment, I felt like the little girl who laid on her dad all those years ago;

“Daddy..?” I coughed out as the toxic smoke filed out of the exploded glass from our previously beloved family home. A younger Daniel laid on the grass, silently asleep and unhurt. My dad had a cut on his temple and was breathing heavily yet very, very slowly.

I laid my had on his chest hearing his faint heartbeat. I prayed silently that he'd wrap his arms around me. Even with his skin basically burned from the fire, he seemed cold as ice. And I did the only thing I knew to do at the time.

I screamed for my dad. But he was to far gone to reply.

I don't even know how long even been laying there, but I've eventually stopped crying and he started running his fingers through my hair. I felt comfortable when I heard the door open and close. I realized that I was probably being selfish and slowly got off of him, wiping my eyes. I look up to see that Daniel and Lila had walked in.

They look at me and smile genuinely at me. Lila looks down over Daniel and ushers him towards dad. He walks over to him and hugs his torso. I stare at the fourteen year old as the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. I didn't even realize that my sister was standing next to me until she wrapped her arm around my shoulders, making me jump a little.

She chuckles softly and looks at me, “Jughead is waiting out in the hall with the Cooper girls. Want me to let him in?”

I stifle my laugh at the thought of poor Jughead standing in the hall with Alice and Betty. Okay maybe being with Betty, not so bad, but Alice is pretty bad. I nod at her as she let's her arm fall and goes to get Jug.

I shrug my bag off my shoulders and open it and see the worn journal sitting in there from the last time I went out to Sweetwater River. I pull it out and examine the torn leather. I look up and to see Daniel talking to dad about whatever, but the look on both of their faces made me smile softly. I see a mop of midnight hair under a familiar beanie in my peripheral vision, making me smile a little.

I turn towards him and I feel a bit more relaxed, especially knowing that he's here to help even when I don't need to ask. A part of me even felt giddy that he decided to come here instead of go to Pop's or something. Maybe it's just the relief that he came here without me even saying anything or even asking.

Maybe.

He wraps an arm around me in a side hug, which threw me off slightly but I returned the hug regardless. It was comforting to know that he was still by my side especially since we've known each other's practically since birth and he hasn't gotten sick of me yet.

Dad looked up and greeted Jug with a smile. My best friend returned the gesture before sitting in a chair on the side of the room were on. Soon we caught him up on everything.

His face fell solemn after we've informed him that mom was still missing and that the sheriff's office said they needed to step away from the case. It was still open – barely – and if they found new information, it would be added to it. However, they said that years ago. If they, or anyone, doesn't find anything soon, I'm sure they are going to close the case and it'll be an unsolved mystery.

Suddenly Lila's phone started ringing. She looked at the screen and smiled softly before answering it, bringing the speaker to her ear.

“Hey, babe. How's everything at the shop go-? What?” I watch her movements as she went from happy and calm to concerned and frigid, “Mar-Marlene! Slow down, I can't understand you.”

She turned towards me and Jug before turning forward again, “Okay, okay... I don't think I can go down there right now, I'm here with dad. How about I send Jughead and Alexandria there instead, will that be okay? .....Alright. I love you. Bye.”

I look at Jug and he shrugs, just as confused as I was. Lila hung up and turned towards us, “Something happened down at Sweetwater River. I hate asking you two to go, but I have to finish up here, then help Danny to get back home and go back to the shop– it's just a mess right now and I need someone down there with Mar.”

She ran her hand through her dark colored hair as she avoided looking at the males behind her. The worried line creased in her face made me sigh softly before nodding to ease her mind a little.

“Yeah we can go.” I can see the relief wash ovee her as I stand up and shrug my bag back over my shoulder as Juggy does the same. She engulfs me in a tight hug, mumbling ‘thank you’ to me before letting me go.

I walk out of the room with the raven haired boy after saying ‘bye’ to dad and Dan. Not realizing that after I left the room that mom's journal fell out of my bag onto the floor of dad's hospital room.

As we trudged towards Sweetwater River, the sound of sirens in the distance made me start to worry with each step we took towards the river I've began to love to find quiet. As we approach, we scan over the people which seemed to be the whole town.

I find Marlene, who is hyperventilating away from the crowd. I tighten my grip on my bag and jog towards her, not really caring if Jug followed me or not. I place my hand on her shoulder and she flinches, whipping her head towards me before she physically relaxes.

“Mar, what is going on?” I ask softly, removing my hand from her shoulder as the runs her hand through her hair.

“It's the Blossom's. Something's happened to Jason.”

And it was at this moment, that I swore that history may have just repeated itself.

#riverdale #jughead jones #jughead jones x ofc #angst #original fanfiction #betty cooper #alice cooper #original female character #slow burn #mutual pining #riverdale season one

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life (24/50) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1715 Chapter Summary: Marinette and Adrien are going back to school right after their secrets went viral. The video will go out after their school day, and Marinette isn't quite sure how today will go. Well, there's only one way to find out. Author's Note: Marinette is a ball of anxiety and it is way too relatable.

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Going Back To School

---

She just had to make it through one day. One day at school, then it's the weekend. Her Ladybug questions video is set to be posted right as school lets out so her friends could watch it, as she had no intention to talk to anyone today.

Marinette set her bag down and walked up to Mrs. Bustier's desk. "Hi, sorry I wasn't here yesterday. What did I miss? I couldn't find anything on the class website," Marinette said, quieter than usual.

Mrs. Bustier offered a warm smile. "Don't worry about it, Marinette. It was a simple assignment that we did in class, and we didn't have any homework. You and Adrien will be excused from the assignment," She told Marinette. "How are you doing?"

Marinette shrugged. "I'm dealing with it," She said. "Lots to process, and my online presence makes it harder, but Adrien and I made a video to post about it all," She explained quickly.

"That's good. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm a good listener," Mrs. Bustier offered, and Marinette nodded before heading back to her seat.

"Hey, girl," Alya greeted. "How are you holding up?"

Marinette didn't reply, only shrugged. Before Alya could say anything else, Adrien walked in. There were whispers as he walked past his desk and to Marinette, as she was sure there would be all day. "I saw your text. There's no need to worry today, everyone here is our friends. Don't worry about all the stuff online; it will calm down once the video goes out. We just have to make it through one day, and then we have the whole weekend!" Adrien reminded her, smiling at Alya, who watched closely.

"He's right," Alya added. "Just one day. And besides, they know now that if they mess with you, you'll throw them across Paris."

"And trust me, no one wants that," Adrien laughed as he rubbed his lower back.

"You're right, thanks, guys," Marinette nodded and got things out of her bag. "Just have to make it through the day," She sighed.

Every one of Marinette's teachers talked to her before or after class, trying to make sense of everything and letting her know that if she needed help in school not to hesitate to ask. She appreciated it, but it also felt weird that this was happening just because she was revealed as Ladybug. No matter how hard she tried, she could not shake the idea out of her head that her being revealed only put everyone around her in danger.

In science, a student brought a note to the teacher. Of course, it was a note for Marinette to go to Mr. Damocles's office. She should have seen this coming, but she was so focused on not attracting too much attention to her, that she didn't even think about the principal. As students murmured when she gathered her things, she tried her best to ignore it.

"Will you all be quiet about this?" Alya groaned. She sat at the opposite end of the room from Marinette, and frankly, she was tired of this. "We all know what happened, so be quiet. Watch Marinette's video that's coming out right after school and leave her alone," Alya said. Normally, the teacher would say something to her about how she addressed everyone, but she let it slide this time.

Marinette smiled weakly at Alya as she exited the room and started down the hallway.

"No, we are trying to keep the attention off of us," Marinette heard Adrien say as she approached the office. "Marinette and I made a video. One video is all she wants to do addressing this. We are not doing anytime more. Even if we did, Marinette and I would want to have control over it. We're not going to have our words twisted or put anyone in any more danger," Adrien argued.

Marinette knocked on the door, and the voices stopped. "Come in," Mr. Damocles called. She pushed the door open slowly with a confused look on her face. "Ah, Marinette, take a seat."

Quickly, Marinette noticed that Adrien looked rather annoyed but was trying to remain a respectful student. "Hey, Mari," Adrien greeted. "Making it through the day?"

Marinette shrugged and sat down in the other chair. "Alya had to address the class I just left," She chuckled. "But other than that, it's been okay. I can't wait for this video to go out, so people just be quiet."

"No one has really talked to me about it; I think they're scared I might cataclysm someone," Adrien sighed. "Like I would? Being cataclysm-ed sucks."

"Which is why I think we need to do an assembly," Mr. Damocles interrupted. "Students should know not to pester you two and to not go crazy over this, especially now that Hawkmoth knows who you are," He suggested.

Adrien groaned. "And I keep telling him no," He directed to Marinette.

"Yeah, it's not a good idea," Marinette shook her head. "My video goes out as soon as school ends today. People will see it, and they will know that it is the only time I'm going to talk about it," She explained. "I don't even want to be talking about it now."

Mr. Damocles tried to keep his cool. "You just said Alya had to address the class; we should do something, so the students aren't constantly thinking about this. Why not?"

"The same reason I have turned down countless interviews for TV, radio, and articles. I won't have control over it. If someone were to record something Adrien or I said, they could edit it to say something that isn't even true. It would only endanger us more," Marinette said, also trying to remain calm as she explained this to Mr. Damocles again. "I edit videos, it's easy to make someone say something they never did. I want to have control over what I release about Ladybug and Chat Noir."

Mr. Damocles blinked. "But-"

Marinette grabbed her bag and stood up. "If you don't mind, I was really enjoying what we were doing in science class today, and I would like to continue learning," Marinette said, staring at Mr. Damocles.

With a sigh, he gave in. "Of course. If you guys need anything or change your mind, let me know," He said. Marinette nodded once and walked out first, letting Adrien gather his things.

Right as the door was shutting, she heard Adrien chuckle and say something under his breath. "You don't fight Ladybug or Marinette."

---

Marinette and Alya walked out of school together as Alya asked about Marinette's day. As she was explaining the conversation with Mr. Damocles, Marinette felt her phone non-stop buzz. "Oh, the video is out. Can't wait to read the comments," She sighed.

"You don't have to," Alya reminded her. "But, you know I am going to watch it and post about it on the Ladyblog."

"I was counting on it. At least I know you won't trash me for being Ladybug," Marinette said.

Alya hugged Marinette. "Never!" She said. "But I've got to go do some homework and watch your video, and I'll text you later," She waved at Marinette as they split apart.

Marinette started her walk home, trying to avoid everyone she could. Now that she was revealed, all she wanted to do was turn into Ladybug and yo-yo her way home, but she held back. As she was getting lost in thought, she was pulled out by hearing her name called.

Swinging around, she was surprised to see Chloé walking towards her. "Chloé?" Marinette said suspiciously.

"Can we...can we talk? Privately?" Chloé asked, and though she looked confident, her words were definitely not.

"Sure?" Marinette said, but it sounded more like a question. Chloé nodded and led the way to her car. Marinette recognized her butler in the front seat, but it was like he wasn't even there with how quiet he was.

Marinette looked confused as Chloé opened the door for her. "I'll take you home, okay? This way we have a chance to talk, and I'm not holding you back."

Reluctantly, Marinette got in the car. Once Chloé got in as well, they started driving. "I'm honestly kind of shocked," Chloé started. "But I shouldn't be. I was thinking about it, about Pollen and Queen Bee- I've seen your Kwami," Chloé told Marinette.

Her eyes got big. "What?" Marinette said, her heart rate increasing.

"Yeah, it was like your first year of Ladybug. I found a red, bug thing on the road and took it. You told me it was a doll," She explained. "I didn't think about it until I saw the news, and realized that doll was your Kwami," Chloé admitted. "I should have put the pieces together after meeting Pollen, but it didn't even cross my mind."

"Did you want to talk just to tell me you should have realized it?" Marinette said in a quiet voice, getting more and more anxious as she felt her phone continue to get thousands of notifications.

Chloé shook her head. "No, I wanted to ask you...why did you let me continue to be Queen Bee?

Marinette was shocked that Chloé admitted to being mean to her, but was also confused that she finally did only when she found out about Marinette being Ladybug. "I don't know; it seemed to give you something good. You used it to help us fight Hawkmoth, and you were really serious about it all. Besides, once Adrien and I got to be closer friends, you toned it down a little bit. It was a few years back you were mean to me the most," Marinette explained. "I mean, sure there were those few months that you didn't get the Miraculous due to him knowing who you are...but I guess that doesn't matter much anymore."

"Really?" Chloé asked with hopeful eyes.

With a shrug, Marinette thought. "I mean, it won't be all the time. But like normal, when we need you. It all depends on what skill set we need; you know that," Marinette explained.

"Of course," Chloé nodded. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the car stopped in front of Marinette's home.

"Well," Marinette said. "I'll see you around."

"Bye, Marinette."

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries

#Miraculous #mlb #ml #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #miraculous fanfic #fanfiction #lilly writes #adrien x marinette #adrien agreste x marinette dupain-cheng #marichat #adrienette #ladynoir #ladrien #a recorded life

[leviathiane]

OH 41 👀👀👀👀👀

sajdkhbsfkd since you deemed fit to go Feral in my inbox ill Oblige 😘

…….However im realizing this is long as fuck and I went a lil unhinged myself bc i got Serious at some moments (apologies to everyone) so WHOOP stickin it under a Read More 

9) Read 

…….This is full of negative energy to ask Me of all people asjndbhfdnj YES please read. Read all the time. Read everything and anything you can get your hands on. Read to write the same way you listen to speak and watch to draw. Read and read and read and read and read. The first step to writing is reading. also who doesnt read……… who doesnt just hunker down and frantically absorb text like a starving raccoon………………………….

13) Less is more

This can go either way! Sometimes you need a little extra to whats going on, and this is largely dependent on the situation and style. Less is definitely more when it comes to action. However, less is not always more when describing the environment– setting a scene takes a bit more than just “they were there”, you feel? Unless youre going for vague to make a certain mood– again, it all ties largely into tone and style for most cases

17) Rules are made to be broken

LANGUAGE ISNT REAL. WE MADE IT UP. FUCK EVERYTHING. SHAKESPEARE INVENTED A SHIT TON OF WORDS AND NOBODY SAID ANYTHING. FUCK CRINGE, INVENT A WHOLE GENRE! STAR WARS AND STAR TREK AND LORD OF THE RINGS INVENTED THEIR OWN LANGUAGES, FREEFORM POETRY KICKS THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYTHING POETRY IS “MEANT” TO BE–– BEING ILLITERATE IS IN BABY. YOU ARE THE GODLESS TODDLER WITH A ROOM FULL OF LETTER BLOCKS AND YOU ARE MORE VALID THAN ANYONE WHO TELLS YOU YOU’RE WRONG! EAT THE CONFORMING LAWS OF LITERATURE ALIVE AND MOMMA BIRD THEM INTO THE MOUTH OF YOUR OPPRESSORS 

18) The first draft of everything is shit

FUCK THE FIRST DRAFT. do what you have to. my first drafts look like a groupchat with 13 people all trying to explain whats going on as theyre typing and none of them are reading the others texts. Write it drunk. write it at 5am and fall asleep on the keyboard. Write it full of spelling errors and wrong punctuation and characterization that will make you scream later because it doesnt matter. Bad writing can always be fixed, empty documents cant. Act like its an alien parasite you have to violently dig out of your stomach and stitch it up later– just get it out 

24) Don’t edit as you write

This one is also a big yes or no for me, since it works really well for some people and not at all for others. I lean more towards Don’t, since its best to just shove it all out before you try to perfect it– but sometimes that push to have a Perfect product is too strong to leave a typo or the wrong word or whatever mess was made. Do what works for you–– HOWEVER, do not do FULL SCALE edits in the middle of the draft. it will twist up your plot, and leave you frustrated and confused. Nothing stops progress like being forced to stop and reread your entire piece because it changed so much along the way you can’t remember where it was supposed to go. 

41) The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read

Yeah! Honestly, idk what to say for this but ….. yea h asknbhkdnsdkf. Its not a secret at this point that i write MASSIVE amount of OC-self-insert fic as a means to practice characterizations of canon characters, but hoenstly?? I find that stuff to be some of my best fic. That’s the stuff that I get lost in, because I know it’ll never be posted. There’s nothing more honest than what’s only for your eyes. There’s none of that panicked “will my readers like it”. No subconscious (or conscious) pandering for anyone except you. That stuff can be raw as hell. Ive tackled mental health issues i might NEVER touch in actual fics within stories i wrote just for me. 

44) Everyone has a book in them

I want to say yes, but I also need to have the disclaimer of do not take this lightly. In ratatouille Remy says anybody can cook but do i Look like gordo mcramsay? Everyone has a story, but not everyone has a book, if that makes sense. We are all capable of writing and publishing something brilliant, but its not something you sit down and just decide and do. Its the same mentallity with fic authors, in that people assume this is easy, fun work. It is not. writing is grueling. Sometimes It sucks. You do it over and over and sometimes are never satisfied, and more often than not you have to just live with it. People will hate or love what you make regardless of your skill, your ideas, your execution. All creative work comes at a cost. It takes time, and practice, and sleepless nights, and sometimes even the criticism you ask for makes you want to curl up and cry–– and thats not even mentioning criticism you didn’t ask for. Anybody can write a book– but good is subjective, and it takes so much more effort than popular media/culture acknowledges.

#depths' ask #response #ask meme #touchmycoat #did this......... did any of this make sense askjhbfjs #i literally came in from thinning the trees and just immediately did this so #it may be a lil incoherent #but when am i Not incoherent u feel #anyway sanjbhdfjnsdm #this ended up so much longer than i intended! i talk too much but this aint news lmfao #love u btich heres ur Juice