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tiannasfanfic · 2 years

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Catharsis: Chapter 6

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Story Summary: (Updated Description) Based on true events, a reader insert story. Please read at your own discretion. After four years, an abusive relationship has finally come to an end. What should be a mostly happy time soon turns sour when the ex begins stalking you. Not knowing what to do, or who to turn to for help, you try to deal with the situation on your own. As things continue to escalate, it doesn't take long before its affecting all aspects of your life. Your coworkers suspect something is up, but it isn't until Adrian Chase witnesses everything first hand that they learn the truth.

Chapter CW: Psychological abuse in stalking, though it’s more like mentions for this chapter rather than full out depictions like in the previous chapters. But that slow burn tho. 😉

Chapter Word Count: 1,651

Tag List (comment to be added): @pansinspace @uncle-eggy @pretendfan @alicefallsintotherabbithole

Chapter 6: (Crossposted to AO3)

Movie night was uneventful, but fun. Chris brought more pizza and beer. While you all had a couple of cans each throughout the night to relax, no one seemed willing to go much beyond a comfortable buzz. While you all weren’t necessarily waiting for something to happen, you were all in an unspoken agreement to be ready in case something did. While you knew you wouldn’t be very useful in any situation that could occur here, at least you would be clear headed enough to provide a good witness statement.

Eagly perched himself next to you on the back of the couch. Eagly always liked sitting by you whenever there was food around because he had figured out a long time ago that you were absolutely weak to animals begging for food. Leota and Keeya’s dogs were the same way. Once animals figure out who they can easily con food out of, they never forget. And so, you always kept a small bag of Eagly’s favorite chips nearby, that way he wasn’t eating even worse than he already was. Whenever he nudged your head with his saying he wanted a bite of pizza, you gave him a chip. Eagly was fine with this.

It was an early night for you since Monday morning had a start time of 6am. Aside from Chris and Adrian, everyone always got to work by 8am. Harcourt never could get the two of them to work on time, but since they were the muscle, it usually worked out. Chris was still over when you went upstairs but was gone by the time you got up. Adrian was asleep on the couch when you came downstairs. He was shirtless again and sprawled out on his back with a pillow over his face, the sound of soft snores floating up from under it. His jeans had sagged down a bit around his hips, showing off that V cut below his stomach muscles that disappeared into his jeans. You couldn’t help but admire the view for a minute before quietly slipping out of your apartment to go to work. You may have been a wreck mentally, but you certainly weren’t dead.

Everything was quiet until Wednesday afternoon when you got a text from your ex.

“Hey. I need to come get the rest of my stuff at some point. What’s a good day for me to come by?”

That was a surprise. You wanted advice before answering though.

You got up from your desk and went to Harcourt’s office, where she was trying to reason with Adrian.

“That was probably a one time thi- Y/N! Good timing!” Harcourt said, relief and exasperation in her voice. “Would you please tell Adrian that actually needing a chainsaw in this line of work was probably a one-time deal and we don’t need several backups?”

“But what if I need the chainsaw and someone else is using it!” Adrian protested.

Harcourt stared at him. "We’re black ops, not a landscaping company.”

“Harcourt does have a point,” you said, and Adrian pouted. “We’d probably be better off getting a weed eater.”

Adrian scoffed.

“You couldn’t use a weed eater to kill somebody, Y/N,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You could use the wire as a garrote maybe, but that’s it.”

“They make weed eaters with saw blades,” you said.

Adrian’s head snapped up in your direction, his eyes wide. “Say what now?”

You found yourself reminded of the war propaganda videos from the movie version of Starship Troopers. ‘Would you like to know more?’ Adrian would now be rapidly clicking the ‘Learn More’ button. That mental image made you bite back a giggle.

“Well, they’re not saw blade, saw blades,” you said. “The ones I’ve seen are made of plastic and look more like tiny chain saw blades that spin, but they’re made to take care of really tough weeds and brush.”

Adrian looked like he wanted to kiss you. He looked at Harcourt as he pointed at you. “Can we get one of those instead?”

Harcourt, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to kill you. “Absolutely fucking not!”

This seemed like a suitable time to steer the conversation off onto something else before Adrian also had you convinced the team could really use a weed eater with saw blades. He could be convincing when he wanted to be, and his logic wasn’t hard for you to follow. Most of the time, you found yourself agreeing with his insane ideas, even though you usually kept that to yourself.

“I think my ex may finally want to settle things,” you said, holding up your phone.

Harcourt and Adrian listened as you read them the text. Harcourt looked amazed; Adrian looked smug.

“Huh,“ Harcourt said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “This seems pretty sudden. I wonder if it’s some sort of a trick.”

“Fuckhead knows he’s done,” Adrian grinned. “I think I made myself clear this weekend.”

“Wait, what?”

You had assumed Chris would fill Harcourt in since he told her everything, whether she wanted him to or not. Not this time though. Everyone that knew seemed to be doing their best to be discreet about everything, which you really appreciated. You had been doing a lot of thinking and realized this whole situation was helping you weed people out of your life. A lot of people who you thought were your friends weren’t, and the people you thought were only your coworkers had your back better than anyone else. It was not the flip you ever would have expected, but, then again, nothing ever happens like you expect it.

You both filled Harcourt in on what happened over the weekend. That was when you found out what exactly Adrian had said Saturday night.

“What a fucking little chicken shit,” was the first thing that had gotten your ex’s attention.

But it was the second part that damn near killed you.

“I knew Evergreen was home to some dumbass inbred racist hick cocksuckers, but I didn’t know we were home to such gigantic limp dick chicken shit assholes like you, too.”

That definitely explained your ex’s reaction. Adrian always had a sixth sense on knowing exactly what to say to piss someone off. Your ex was no exception to this. The words Adrian had chosen were a sure-fire way to get under your ex’s skin instantly and Adrian had gotten exactly the reaction he wanted.

Harcourt listened to it all with a look of amazement and even cracked a grin a couple of times. With her now filled in, the two of them helped you respond.

“Saturday after four is the only day I’m available. You can stop by any time after that,” was the reply.

“I mean a day when you’re at work. I’d rather not see you or your new boy toy.”

Adrian turned all the shades of red at that one as a dopey smile came to his face. Harcourt briefly took over your phone.

“No, you may not come another time. The locks have been changed. You will have to come by on a day that my schedule allows. You may come by Saturday after 4pm to collect the remainder of your belongings. That is when I’ll be available to do it.”

“Why the fuck did you change the locks??? I never came by without telling you!”

“That’s how he’s justifying his behavior?” Harcourt asked, sounding a bit stunned. “By saying he always told you he went over there?”

“I guess that’s what he calls coming over at all hours while I was home,” you said. “That's his version of telling me, just showing up and walking in.”

Adrian grumbled, twirling a knife in his hand. He’d been doing that ever since you read the first message to them.

Harcourt ignored that last message in her response and continued on.

“Just so you are aware, this will take place under the direct supervision of my coworkers, Emilia Harcourt and Adrian Chase. I will not be alone; they will both be there.”

“Why you and not Chris?” you asked her as she handed your phone back to you.

“Since your ex chose to involve the two of us, we should leave it at just the two of us unless he decides to drag more people in,” Harcourt explained. “If the situation is dying down, which his change in attitude could be an indicator of, I don’t want it to escalate if all he wants to do is grab his shit and go.”

You nodded, understanding. “And introducing a new person into it, especially someone like Chris, might make it worse and he go back into fight mode.”

“Exactly. Chris’ heart is in the right place, there’s no denying that, but his eagerness to help could make things worse.”

“Didn’t he used to say ‘peace at any cost’ or something like that?”

You had read everyone’s official files after you were brought onto the team, but you couldn’t remember the exact phrasing of what Chris’ old motto was.

“Yeah, something like that,” Harcourt chuckled.

“I can handle anything Fuckhead has the balls to try,” Adrian said, still twirling the knife. Then he tossed it without looking at an old dartboard that had come with the office. It hit dead center of the bullseye. “Let’s not tell Peacemaker any of that though. He’s still my BFF and I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

Despite widespread belief, Adrian did know when it was a better idea not to escalate a situation.

Sometimes.

Luckily, this was one of those times.

The final response from your ex came in right then, finalizing the plan.

“Whatever. I’ll be there Saturday.”

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thingstotellthem · 1 year

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My mom is telling me she is finally going to take me to look at job applications after a whole year of me begging but I can't help but feel like she purposefully chose now, after she made it so I am stressed about what will go on in the house. Stuff like who will babysit my baby sister? Is my dog going to be okay or is my mom going to act on her threats towards him if he upsets her? Are my family actually going to start cleaning up after themselves or will that fall onto me after I get home from any future shifts?

I have been wanting a job and to get out of here for so long but I am absolutely terrified and stressed about what home will be like that I am unsure if I should even get a job if these things may happen.

Just the thought of them is making me feel immense panic but I know I will probably never get out of here if I don't get money to be able to leave. I don't know what to do

im so sorry to hear that youre in such a stressful situation. i think the only advice i can give you is to stick to your goal, which is making enough money to get yourself out of that house. this is something youre doing for yourself- for your mental, physical, and emotional well being. dont let your mother make you feel like you should be worried about things that should be her responsibilities entirely. if you end up coming home from work and find that your family members havent been cleaning up, its okay for you to say that youre too tired or preoccupied to clean up for them. youre making a path for yourself, and thats whats important. i understand the concern you have for your sister and dog, and i wish i had advice for you regarding their safety, but unfortunately i cant think of anything, so if someone has any thoughts they want to share, please feel free to do so. good luck! ♥

#actuallyabused #emotional abuse #parental abuse #parent mention #animal abuse #anon #♥♥♥

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scoopsgf · 2 years

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i’m really just ranting here but i absolutely hate it when the argument “dean was actually a good boyfriend” comes out.

a. he basically controls every aspect of her life. Getting jealous over your girlfriend doing a simple school project with another man is not normal. Watching her while she does said project like a creep even after she insinuates multiple times she’s uncomfortable with it is not okay. Instructing her on what he’d like her to do 24/7 as if she’s his obedient pet dog is ridiculous.

b. Not sure how to put this feeling into words but i really can’t entertain how rory has to apologise for everything she does: “please don’t be angry”. It seems like it becomes an automatic reflex for her to assume he’d be pissed at anything she does. Even losing a simple bracelet could possibly set him off. I genuinely think the scenes i’ve watched with them in are 90% dean yelling at rory one way or another.

not a huge fan of season 4 onwards but how did she end up being his “other woman”. Personally i thought he overstayed his welcome - season 3 was when the show should have ended his storyline. I mean, his character only went from urgh to wtf.

no bc anon you are absolutely so right for this. like the glorification of dean in the series is something that never fails to put my teeth on edge. it’s so frustrating to see and hear lorelai putting him on this Perfect Boyfriend Pedestal and continuously taking his side over rory’s. i don’t know if it started out as her trying to play devil’s advocate when rory came to her for advice on relationship stuff, but by the end it had grown beyond that into something very toxic. like lorelai telling dean that just because he and rory broke up doesn’t mean they (lor and dean) did has always rubbed me the wrong way. what happened to solidarity? why does she treat him like he deserves pity when he’s the one who ended things both times?! and you’re right, he definitely overstayed his welcome on the show (i think because the actor had a contractual obligation to fulfil, but still?? why make the contract for that long?). by season four his presence in the show was obnoxious and his character came across as, for lack of a better word, really pathetic. like, he’s a nineteen year old dude moping around in an arcade and sneaking around behind his wife’s back—his wife, who he never should have married and he knew that, but did it anyway. lindsay tried so hard to be everything he wanted and he gave absolutely zero shits about the effort she was putting into their relationship. then he goes and manipulates rory into thinking that things with lindsay are over, essentially corners her in her bedroom and talks her into sleeping with him. say what you will about rory’s part in this situation, but I just… I have a really hard time viewing the whole thing as fully consensual (and let’s be honest it probably wasn’t even good). like… i don’t know. it doesn’t at all feel like the special and romantic first time rory always wanted, it feels like a guy looming over her begging her for more than she’s willing to give, and a girl who feels lost and still hasn’t healed from jess leaving (because she had to put all that heartbreak in a tiny box and hide it from lorelai), who’s come to equate love with people who stick around. as in, not jess. not christopher. anyway, yeah, her being reduced to the ‘other woman’ is so rough and hard to watch. she deserved so much more than that. not to bring rogan into it, but both logan and dean had a habit of reducing rory to this thing they couldn’t let go of, but they never prioritized her and they treated her like a side piece. it’s such bullshit and anyone who supports either of those ships is honestly short a few marbles.

#asks #anon #gilmore girls #rory gilmore #anti rogan #anti dean forester #sorry i got drastically off topic #this is so unorganized

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the-pope-is-in · 3 years

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upcoming works

if anyone here has read/enjoyed my fics , I just wanted to post my ENTIRE drafts to let you know what’s coming next (I can’t promise I’ll get around to all of these, but if there’s any you want me to prioritize , just let me know)

in no specific order

Legolas Greenleaf (LOTR) - based more off of the movies than the books. oc is half elf half sorceress and she goes on Bilbo’s adventure .. eventually meeting Legolas in mirkwood and then fighting with him in the battle of five armies. after the battle, she finds him again and begs him to take her with him because she doesn’t want to go back to her old life again. they go on a bunch of adventures. oc is besties w aragorn.

Lemony Snicket (ASOUE) - as in his entity as a character in the series, not the author himself (more the tv show than the books even though the books were my ENTIRE childhood) ((the author’s actual name is daniel handler and he’s a lovely person)) anyways,

my advice for you first and foremost is to never fall in love with a writer

especially if that writer is a prominent member of a secret organization

especially especially if said writer is committed to uncovering and documenting the sad lives of three orphans, the children of a past lover who has died tragically

my name is odessa denouement and I am begging you to put this book down and go read something more pleasant, such as the littlest elf or a story that doesn't involve pain, suffering, and a general lack of morals

odessa and lemony meet when their VFD missions overlap and they’re forced into a number of highly dangerous situations together. features a tragic ending.

Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood (HP) - because we all know they were in love. probably their last years of hogwarts into the second war. focuses a lot on percy going to the dark side. probably pretty angsty.

Will Turner (POTC)- oc is Jack Sparrow’s daughter. she’s super cool. raised by pirates. best parental relationship I’ve ever written (I usually go for the really shitty parent trope, but this time their relationship is rlly soft and makes me happy) anyways, she falls in love with will turner and it’s hot.

Beatrice and Phillipa (HP) - cute lesbians in gryffindor (golden trio era). should probably read my bill weasley series first because it’s a spinoff. would probably be their fifth year to sometime around the end of the war. main focus would be bea’s shift to the dark side.

FP Jones (Riverdale) - gotta preface this one with the fact that I hate riverdale as much as the next guy (sorry riverdale fans) I mean . the show’s insane. BUT FP is what got me through it. so this is the story of him and jughead’s mom in the 80s , then there’s a time jump to the first or second season. going to be short but cute.

Steven Hyde (that 70s show) - NOT played by d*nny m*sterson. anyways, oc moves to point place from nyc with her mom (who kinda sucks -yes, we’re back to the shitty parent trope-) falls for hyde and it’s rly angsty. at some point she lives in hyde’s old house but i’m not sure exactly when bc idk what season I want to start the season on. she’s also best friends with jackie because I’m in love with jackie.

Regulus and Marlene (HP) - umm so to be completely honest I don’t know what the plan was for this one. the only thing it says in the draft is “marlene is a slytherin”. I think I was high when I made it. but I feel like there’s some sort of potential there so we’ll see what happens.

Remus Lupin (HP) - either wolfstar or a slytherin oc or maybe regulus I don’t know. I have some ideas for scenes, but no specific people or genders or really any details at all. I just know I’m in love with remus and want to write about him and his sweaters.

Jesse Pinkman (Breaking Bad) - oc and jesse keep meeting by chance. first it’s because she’s staying at his parent’s house out of necessity (ep 2), then it’s because she’s Jane’s roommate, then it’s at Jane’s funeral. they keep saying they’re parting ways. that they’ll never see each other again, but it doesn’t work. one way or another, they’ll end up together.

Minerva McGonagall and Pomona Sprout (HP) - one of my fav ships ever. would start in their sixth year and there would be a few major time jumps over the course of the story. very soft relationship.

Peter Parker (MCU) - oc has powers over the elements. recruited to the avengers by tony stark. in the process of said transition, hydra attacks her family and oc is filled with rage. throughout the story, she lives with different members of the avengers (she moves around a lot) and she and peter have a friends to lovers sort of thing.

Daniel Desario (Freaks and Geeks) - charlotte’s been friends with the freaks since she was a kid. she’s been on-again-off-again dating nick since middle school, she has mixed feelings about kim, ken is her favorite person ever, and she is hopelessly in love with Daniel. when lindsay comes into the picture and things shift dramatically, charlotte finally has the chance to shoot her shot.

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) - word for word what I have in my drafts:

ummmmm so we've got a main character named ummmmmm sophie or phoebe or something and shes like blonde and short and only three months older than reid and sup super smart like with math and science and stuff and she graduated early and has a doctorate and is smart and stuff but doesnt really tell anyone and looks kinda sloppy and has a really relaxed attitude and we love her - she almost dropped out of high school because she was bored but then agent gideon was like dude come on ill give u a job (or something?)

oh and her parents and little brother died in a fire when she was eight only her older brother survived and they are super close she loves him so much but she has some trauma from constantly being sent to foster homes where nodbody wanted to keep her bc shes difficult and also like watching her parents die so she has a HUGE fear of fire and an irrational fear of big dogs

ANYWAYS starts off with her at her house and she's just hangin she has a cat and she's making herself dinner and she's one of those super cute single bi girls who likes her plants and her music and her science bookstore

friends in college story (an original work) - okay so I wanna go to film school (I want to be a screenwriter) and this is an original script I’ve been working on but I might adapt parts of it to a story. basically it’s like a dark academia sitcom where a bunch of liberal, progressive kids go to this rural, ultra-christian college for different reasons and find each other and become the ELITE friend group. obviously it would have a better name than the “friends in college story” although now it’s sort of growing on me

the new tragedy (an original work) - “sometimes i need to remind myself that you existed. You were real, you were so real. your hair was real, your crooked smile was real. the way you couldnt talk in the morning before you’d had your coffee, or how you could never get to sleep at night without an episode of whatever show you were obsessing over in the moment. oh my god. you were real.

she looked like death. the guy, not the concept. sallow skin and dark, sunken eyes that absorbed all of the light and trapped it, holding it hostage and never letting it out. when she smiled, the light poured all over her, like she was taking a shower in it. when she frowned, she looked like a storm cloud. I loved her. I loved her so much.

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rosesvioletshardy · 4 years

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can we do it? - billy/four - chapter 3

chapter 3 is here and i’m surprised i’m still writing this story despite y’all don’t really read it (not really begging you guys to do so but it’s your choice) but it keeps me sort of busy until i get called into work and start school.

also this isn’t edited btw

summary: one team, seven people, two lovers, things are about to get crazy and zero and four don’t know if they can do it with everything that is going on

masterlist

# of words: 2,246

warnings: angst?, language, fluff?

taglist: (message or inbox me if you want to be tagged)

The next few days were a blur for everyone. Seven has officially met everyone but questioned as to why there were only six of them instead of eight and why they skipped six. Zero did the part and explained it to him despite One wanting her not to tell him and everyone could still see that she was grieving. One gave Four a talk about him and Zero and he felt more guilt than he could imagine. He didn’t know that One had practically forced her to say that they were only friends but even then she still wouldn’t talk to him. Not after the way he treated her. It was his turn with Seven to talk about what they do and talk about One. They were sitting in another trailer that wasn’t really occupied that he used to watch his shows that were filled with dvds with Wally the dog and the Beaver show One loved so much playing in the background. Four was sitting in a chair throwing random cds after seeing what they were as Seven asked him a question.

“Hey, what do you know about One?”

“Well, for starters, he loves Wally the dog. He’s obsessed with this beaver show. I think he’s an orphan now that I come to it actually. We got a little bet on it if you want to put some money in. He really got rid of every evidence about his existence that even Zero can’t find, but I think she knows.” he told him

“This is an interesting crew you got here, bro. How many missions have you guys run?” he asked

“Counting Florence? Uh, one.”

“One what?” Seven asked eyeing him confused

“Actually, no, there was, um this, like, mini-mission, so maybe one and a quarter. It was in Sicily. But Florence? Absolute shitshow. I mean, if I wasn’t there, probably more than one of us dead. That’s all I’m saying” four said turning to face him

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I don’t fuck around”

“You realize I just buried myself in front of my family and friends?” “Yeah, One told me about that. Big military funeral. Guns popping, flags. It was pretty cool. At my funeral, there were only five people there and two of them left before the end. It is tough watching your mum cry at your grave. I feel like mine is still cursing at my grave for it. Love that woman, I do miss her, but you get over it. Anyways, this mission. I got a good feeling. I got a really good feeling about this mission.” Four said with a proud smile

“Yeah. how come you can’t find this guy?” Seven asked looking at a picture of Rovach’s brother

“I don’t know. Zero can usually find anyone but she’s been off since the last mission and isn’t in the right headspace for it. I tried telling her to take a break but she isn’t listening. To me or the advice. The only thing she said was that Americans caught him a few years back.”

“Americans?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Zero has something to do with it? Maybe Two as well, she has some sort of training that seems like it would tie into it. Not sure but that’s all she said and won’t tell me anything else without One’s permission.” Four told him as seven went and sat next to him

“What’s going on between the two of you? Are you guys dating? Did you date in the past? What is it?”

Four didn’t know how to answer the question because he still wasn’t over his feelings for her and neither was she but the two couldn’t be together and she wasn’t listening or talking to him. He sat there quietly as he tried to figure out something to say.

“Well, there isn’t anything going on between us because One has this rule that none of us can hook up and if we do, it basically has to be if we are undercover, with someone else, and it’s the last thing we need to do.” “But what about two and three? They seem like they’re hooking up.”

“Yeah I don’t know why he’s all up in our business when he should be paying attention to them but I think it has to do with the fact that we almost kissed and I guess he saw us. Which is really creepy if you think about it now. Also, maybe because he sees her as a little sister and he doesn’t want to get hurt again.” he said before finishing what he was talking about Rovach’s brother

“Back to what I was saying. The Americans caught him years back and gave him to his brother. The bald looking fella. You like him though, One?

“I mean, I guess I didn't really get to know him that much and we mainly talked about me. Feel like he was an asshole when he was younger.” Seven told him

“Yeah he's definitely an asshole, but a likable asshole, no?”

“No.”

“Well, out of all of us, probably likes you the most.” four said

“What about Zero? She seems to be on his good side and close to him”

“Yeah she was the first one recruited and knows most of her past. Thinks of her like a little sister. They’re like twins but not twins. They’re both good at hiding their trails and finding people and all that. From what I’ve heard they actually had a run with each other when she used his tech to find out all this stuff on American politicians that almost got her arrested before all of this. They both realized how helpful this stuff is since the government doesn't help anyone.”

One knew all about her past and he wondered if that was why he didn’t want someone like her to be with someone like Four but he didn’t tell either one of them that to make sure there wasn’t going to be drama between them.

“So you guys aren’t together? Even going behind his back and trying to secretly date?”

“No it’s too risky mate, and plus she said she only sees me as a brother and a friend”

“Damn. I haven't even known you guys a whole week and I think the two of you would’ve actually been good together.”

As they continued to talk, Zero walked past them and overheard the last of their conversation and how Seven liked her and Four together. It made her a little red until she remembered what One said and she continued to walk to where she was going.

They haven’t done much besides try and figure out where the four generals were and figure out a plan as to who was going to get the information out of them. Deciding it should be Three and Two since they have the most training and are more qualified for it they got everything ready. Four and Zero have started to talk again and are slowly reforming the friendship they had before. He tried to make it look like he wasn’t hurt by the fact that the first person he liked didn’t like him back and that he wasn’t threatened about dating her.

The day of the mission had everyone feeling nervous. Even though they had gone over everything they still felt like something was bound to go wrong like what happened in Florence. They had packed up everything they were going to need while in Las Vegas after finding out who is in charge of handing off Rovach’s brother. After gathering in their “Batcave”, Zero started to list off everything that was going to happen when they get there and how they all needed to be careful

“Listen, there are pretty much cameras covering every single inch of Las Vegas. You have to be careful about what or who you decide to go as or else they’ll have your face plastered on the news within the minute. Rovach set the four generals up in the penthouse and there’s going to a party, so be careful of who you injure.” zero told them

“Don’t worry, I used to be a hitman. I got this.” Three told her as he started packing everything

“Didn’t you almost shoot Four before Florence?” Five asked smirking remembering the memory

“Nearly took my ear out. Couldn’t hear anything out of the left ear for almost a week” Four grumbled

“I paid you back with the spaghetti carbonara and the many beers.”

The rest of the group couldn’t help but smile and laugh while One let out a sigh at the group he had created and how they were acting like children.

“This means that you can’t fuck up and you have to choose wisely. Even though she’s going to be staying, Zero is going to keep an eye on all three of us at all times and stay in communication with us. Who knows what they’re going to do while they're there.”

“Please I’m a grown man. I can handle my shit. I know what i’m going to be though”

“Don’t think that’s how the expression goes. Don’t handle you shit, flush it down the toilet like a grown ass man. You have to disappear. One more thing, just because all three of us are going to be doesn’t mean any of you can do shit.” One said mainly aiming at Zero and Four as their eyes darted each other for a split second

Now, we’re done. Leave and get ready.” He finished

The rest of the night was just them getting everything prepared as Zero made sure every form of communication was connected to each other was hooked up with one another and her computers. The group disbanded and went their separate ways back to their trailers before Four stopped in his tracks wanting to talk to Zero. He waited until everyone had left the room before he talked to her. Why he wanted to talk to her was so he can make amends but he didn’t know if she would talk to him or even want to be alone with him so he decided he wasn’t going to do anything and left her alone. Before he left, he took one last look at her and the way she was focused on getting everything set up. Yeah, he knew people as quick and smart as her, but he never has met anyone who was just as kind as her and would rather deal with other people’s problems rather than take on her own. She has been like that since she was a child, always had this maternal instinct to make sure everyone’s needs were put first. Maybe that was why she was so reserved and didn’t talk much of her own life that night and she made sure he didn’t feel uncomfortable when talking about his past life. Rather than hanging out with the crowds and going to parties throughout high school and college all the time, she would focus on her studies, only going every now and then.

Gathering up her stuff and the papers she had, but stopped as soon as she saw Four turn around and she didn’t stop him in time as he skated off back to his trailer. She let out a sigh and walked back to hers. It took her awhile to get adjusted to her new life and she still wasn’t used to how they lived. They had everything they could’ve asked for, yet it still didn’t feel like home for her no matter how many things she had with her from her past life. Turning on her music and getting ready for a bath to relax, she heard a knock on the door interrupting her quiet time. Setting everything down on the sink, she went back to the front. Opening the door she saw Four standing there with his hood up and hands in his pockets waiting.

“Hey”

“Hi”

The two stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before she remembered to invite him in instead of standing outside.

“I’m sorry, please come in.” she gestured moving out of the way letting Four step in. He looked around her place and noticed everything she talked about with him about herself and from what he saw that one time looked like everything she’d described. Vinyls were neatly stacked, fairy lights were hung all across, monitors that covered one corner of the room, and pictures of family and friends everywhere. He thought it felt right for her and more her style. The two of them walked over to her bed and sat down in quiet for what felt like forever before Four spoke up.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything wro-” she tried to tell him before getting interrupted by him

“Yes I did. I treated you like shit even by not talking to you and just overall being me” he said

“But you didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, it’s my fault I'm the one who had to hide away their true feelings and then forced to say something I didn’t want to say.”

“Zero please, cut the b-” Four started to say before he felt lips on top of his.

At first, he was shocked until he loosened up and kissed her back. Their lips began to move together in sync as his hands moved to cup her face as hers snaked around his neck.

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skarsgard-daydreams · 3 years

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Hii i don't know if this is something you want to answer but I love your stories and how you write them. I have a hard time writing sex scenes even if I really want to write them (it happens no matter the pov) Would you be open to share some advice on how to write this kind of scenes? Totally ok if you don't want to, of course! I thought It would be good to ask someone that I like reading that kind of stuff from (sorry for the mistakes, not an english native speaker)

Thank you for this question. I'm so glad that you enjoy my writing enough to ask it! As I have said before, I was an English major, and I studied Writing in grad school, so I LOVE to talk about this kind of shit. Like, I have written essays on Cormac McCarthy's punctuation. So if you ever have questions like this, absolutely send them my way. I will spout off my thoughts until you beg me to shut up.

I have to admit that I'm new to writing sex scenes actually, but I rely on a lot of the same techniques I use elsewhere in my writing. The subject matter just happens to be sex. Looking at it as just another scene helps me feel less intimidated.

I tend to write very mechanical first drafts. She did this. He did that. She did this. Sometimes it seems so technical and tedious, but when I go to back in to revise, I start to focus on adding detail in a few different ways.

First, I want to incorporate as many of the five senses as possible. Wherever I can, I will include how things taste, sound, smell, look, or feel.

Second, I want to convey how the character is feeling internally. This might be an emotion, like love, or it might just be the physical sensation of building toward a climax. Either way, it's useful to add in metaphors or similes to try to convey the feeling. If you ever hear someone try to describe an orgasm, or the build up to one, they often use metaphors to explain it. I think metaphor is much more interesting and evocative than a mere technical description.

Third, I try to stick to the principle that every action has a reaction when my characters are being physical. This means that when one character does something, the other should have a response. That's what good sex is, right? It's two people improvising off each other and not just one person acting on another as they don't react.

Fourth, I try to convey a sense of time and pacing in the way I construct my sentences or paragraphs. For example, if I want it to seem like things are happening fast, I might summarize actions rather than write them out, or I might utilize a run on sentence to describe what they're doing so that the string of words doesn't stop. If I want to slow it down, I will try to accomplish that with a longer sentence that might slip into metaphor or emotion or a description of their surroundings so the reader spends more time inhabiting a moment.

Fifth, I try to replace adverbs wherever possible. Rewrite your sentences so you don't have to use an adverb. Eliminate the word "just" and try not to let your character only "seem" to do things. Scrutinize each word in a sentence and decide if it earns its keep. Be ruthless. If you don't need it, scratch it. This is the single best piece of writing advice I have ever been given and I'm constantly trying to apply it.

As you can hopefully see, these concepts can apply to writing all kinds of things, not just sex. I think it's also very helpful to read a lot of other writers and see how they do it. I never would have had the confidence to try to write a sex scene if I hadn't done that. Never feel bad about needing to Google something or use a thesaurus, either. Those are really, really helpful.

At the end of the day, I want someone who reads my writing to feel something. Maybe I want them to feel moved, or outraged, or amused, or maybe I want them to just come away thinking, "That's hot." So I try to use all of the tools in my toolbox to evoke a feeling, and if I succeed in that effort even a little, I'm happy.

I hope this is helpful. Please forgive any typos as I am typing on my phone with insomnia at 4am.

P.S.

Two last rules for writing anything: give yourself permission for the first draft to be utter dog shit, and remember that the more you practice the better it gets. I wish I could say it gets easier, but writing is always hard.

#asks #writing #writing advice #english major rants #thank you sweet anon #you kind of made my day with this question #advice

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josephthropp · 4 years

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Steven Universe Future episodes, listed in order of least to most Steven Trauma featured

20. Why So Blue?

Glory be, there was actually an ENTIRE episode where Steven’s trauma pretty much didn’t manifest in any notable way. This episode was nice enough to let his trauma play second fiddle to Lapis’ trauma, since no other episode was gonna step up to the plate and let him enjoy himself. Astounding. All he has to do is be a little sad that the Lapises all gotta fight. Cake walk compared to the rest of these.

19. Guidance

There’s definitely a bit of the old trauma starting to brew here, with feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty about his future starting to crop up in Steven. There’s one pink moment, but it’s used in a very superpower way, and not in an anxiety way. Overall, it’s mostly wacky hi-jinx, with the tough stuff still being pretty light compared to the rest of the season.

18. A Very Special Episode

This one’s kind of hard to quantify the trauma in, since you could argue it really is just about Steven overbooking his schedule. On the other hand, you could look at that as him starting to overexert himself in an effort to please everyone in his life and feel needed. Also, this episode might not be canon, or was just a pre-recorded PSA. Either way, let’s just put it here.

17. The Future

This one is also kind of hard to quantify, since it’s the only one that takes place after Steven has actually acknowledged and begun to work on his trauma. He’s working through it now, and better as managing the anxiety and other symptoms that result from it. The effects of it are definitely still present, though. From here on out, though, the trauma gets a LOT more easily identifiable.

16. Bismuth Casual

No pink moments, no tears shed, but trauma is definitely here. Steven is bad at talking to humans, to the extent that he worries that his best friend doesn’t really like him anymore. The poor little lad even fails so badly at small talk he tries to refer back to a huge point of his trauma as a funny, relatable moment. How do you do, fellow teens? I too am torn into, literally. There’s at least a happy ending, but there’s some bumps along the way.

15. Snow Day

Have you ever felt that you couldn’t measure up to a younger, more innocent version of yourself from two years ago that your guardians seem to miss and like more? Steven has! Luckily, he has a full time job he can redirect all his attention to that is fully capable of distracting him from these problems he should probably examine. Doesn’t every 16 year old? Another happy ending, but you gotta cringe and wince at some stuff to get there.

14. Little Homeschool

We got the series starting off strong with Steven immediately getting back to his roots of expending himself in the efforts to help other people at the cost of his own mental health. Jasper won’t go to Little Homeschool. Amethyst tells Steven that he’s not responsible for her shortcomings. Steven reaches out anyway, even when it results in a physical fight that leads to him going pink for the first time while Jasper derides him. This early on, though, that part is still just his cool new superpower.

13. Bluebird

Strange that the only episode with an outside force that is explicitly trying to murder Steven is this low on the list, but here we are. More Steven roots, with a new gem that wants him dead. He knows it from the start, but is convinced to give Bluebird a chance. Things go well, until Bluebird tries to murder him. There’s a surprise guest appearance from Greg’s trauma, with the loss of his hair disappointing everyone involved. All in all, nothing like two of the same people that contributed to you CPTSD showing back up to really augment the stress it causes.

12. Rose Buds

If ever there was an episode that just exuded an absolute feeling of second-hand embarrassment, this would be it. This is most definitely not the worst case of Rose/Pink trauma from Future, but that doesn’t make it any less painful to witness. Like a horrible car crash you keep watching, in awe of the horror of it all. “I’m dying, I’m dying, I am dead, I am dead Rose Quartz!” Indeed. That’s the same way I felt watching Steven keep accommodating each and every Increasingly Bad Idea.

11. Prickly Pair

Remember when the Future intro was revealed, and everyone assumed the Cactus Steven was gonna be some low-tier villain accidentally caused by Steven’s powers? Gee, did we get suckered. Turns out the real villain was introspection all along! If that poor little cactus did anything wrong, it was doing whatever was taught to it by the only person who gave it any guidance; Steven Universe, Noted Trauma Victim.

10. Little Graduation

It was a bit of a toss-up between Little Graduation and Prickly Pair for which one had more trauma. Prickly Pair had no pink outbursts, but it also didn’t have much in the way of even the meager reassurance Steven gets in Little Graduation that things will be okay. One thing Little Graduation does have, though, is the low point of Steven losing his direction. The job he thought might’ve been his purpose only leads to him being sad when old faces move on. Just like his friends. Plus there’s the whole issue of being unable to process change that he himself didn’t bear witness to. When he’s pulling off to the side of the road with a half eaten pizza just to look at the stars, you just know Steven is going through it.

9. In Dreams

How do you be friends with someone when you’re not preventing the end of a world? What do friends do? The answer that Steven and Peridot come to is roasting bad television, but not until Steven’s damaged psyche is literally projected for Peridot to witness. If he can’t do what his friends want him to, Steven’s first instinct is to beg them not to leave him, even if he doesn’t have anything to offer them. He’s naught but a cute little problem-solving machine, after all.

8. Together Forever

When you plan a wedding at the age of 14 in the immediate aftermath of finding out your rebel mother was actually the same tyrant she rebelled against, you might start to look at marriage as a quick band-aid for serious problems. Worried that you, a 16 year old without a plan for the future, will be inexorably separated from your 14 year old girlfriend when she seeks early admission to a college across the country? Just propose, and live as a fusion once she accepts! If she doesn’t, that’s cool too. You can just have an immediate and sharp depressive spiral.

7. Volleyball

Remember when I said Rose Buds wasn’t the peak of Rose/Pink Trauma? Good news, we just arrived at that peak! If learning about the selfish things your mother did had a negative impact on you before, then getting another one thrown onto the pile while you’re already volatile is probably not great. Steven’s pink side is finally shown as a destructive force instead of the superpower its been thus far. That “scream that could crack the walls” that Volleyball mentioned is second only to a stomp that can damage the entire Reef.

6. Mr. Universe

Steven Universe has always been very upfront about showing Steven’s dual heritage as an integral part of him. Steven Universe Future continues this trend by portraying his human trauma in conjunction with his gem trauma. If life with the gems and your diamond powers is getting you down and out, Steven, fret now. Mr. Universe is here to show you that your trauma will have the same consequences in your interpersonal relationships with human family and friends, too!

5. Growing Pains

Okay, let’s say you’d willfully ignored the trauma for the entirety of the 13 episodes that came before this one. If that’s true, then you’re Steven, and Dr. Maheswaran is here to spell it out for you. Steven experienced trauma. This revelation leads to more trauma. You could make a case for this episode being number one on this list with the amount of traumatic incidents shown in the background during the diagnosis. Those are flashbacks, though. Traumatic flashbacks, but flashbacks nonetheless.

4. Homeworld Bound

Ooh, this traumatic venture has it all. Intrusive thoughts about murder, being faced with a reflection of what you’ve become, and hanging out with four people who all wanted you dead at some point. Double trauma when those same four people all seem to to be doing way better now, doing community service and living their best lives after you helped them out. Bonus round is rejecting the same life-changing advice you gave to one of them once upon a time.

3. Fragments

Jeez. A few years back, the Steven’s Knife episode jokes were just that jokes. Haha, he’s a funny kid that eats ice cream and only has a shield and bubble for defense. Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a joke where we pretended that he kept murdering people with a knife, since that’s obviously not a thing that would ever happen in the show? Ha.

2. Everything’s Fine

Honestly I don’t even know why I put this one on the list. It’s the only episode without trauma. Steven is fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. This is fine. The title literally provides us with the information that this is fine. I love that comic of the cartoon dog having breakfast in the burning house.

1. I Am My Monster

Slight error here. Regular Steven Universe Future episode contains an amount of Steven Trauma that ranges from average to severe. I Am My Monster contains nothing except Steven Trauma from start to finish. Therefore, it is a statistical anomaly, and should not have been counted.

#steven universe #steven universe future

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namemeagainivebeenlost · 4 years

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Don’t Join a Sorority

So a year and a half ago I joined a sorority called Sigma Lambda Alpha at my university (oh yea, we’re name dropping). I was excited at first but the whole thing was a shit show. They were unorganized, power hungry, immature, gossiping little girls all vying for attention, which was ridiculous, because this is a small school and a tiny chapter of a tiny sorority. Seriously, look it up, my sorority isn’t even the one that shows up first, it’s some honorary architecture frat by the same name.

Well the semester before last semester I had a bad break down, but I kept soldiering through my sisterly duties, because I made a commitment, right? And even when I needed time to study or rest, they still asked for more and I gave it.

Well the next semester (last semester) I told them I needed a break, I told them I needed to go inactive, just for a semester, so I could get my grades up and make more friends and get my medications put to rights to prevent anymore bipolar manic meltdowns. (You ever stayed awake so long you started hearing dogs in your room, scratching at the floor next to you and breathing on the back of your next, despite your bed being 4 1/2 ft off the ground and in a dorm room with no animals? You ever seen shadows in your room, disappearing into one wall, only to float through your window and stand over you for hours? that shit is fucking scary as hell)

They said no. They said I hadn’t been in the sorority long enough to take a break, even though I had medical evidence that said I’d need to go home often to see my doctor and get therapy (medical leaves of absence are totally allowed per our by-laws). And what girl did they send to convince me to stay a fully active member (despite the fact I failed all but 2 of my classes the semester before because of my issues?) the girl who I invited INTO MY HOME (because she was an international student and couldn’t go home for Christmas and I didn’t want her to have to spend it alone) and who told I and my mother (both of us suffering with BPD) that mental illness wasn’t real, medication didn’t work, and people just aren’t self disciplined enough. (And you know what? I forgave that, there was a culture difference and I can understand that.)

But then when I tried to explain to her why I needed to go inactive, just for a single semester! She told me I needed to stay there, I obviously needed people “keeping an eye on me”, as if needing to fake it for 2 dozen practical strangers wasn’t part of the problem. Then she said I needed to stop taking my moms advice, she said my mother never went to college and so she didn’t know anything.

HOLD UP

First and foremost, you shut your goddamned mouth about my mother. I can take you talking shit about me, about my dad and my sisters, but you DO NOT talk about my mother so disrespectfully.

Second, I have been through this kind of breakdown before, I know what I need to do to get past it, I know that I need my therapist and my medication and my family to support me. Her trying to tell me what I need was bullshit.

So I was forced to plead my case in front of the entire executive board and a woman I’ve never met who was on speaker phone. I barely know these girls, we run around but I don’t have an emotional connection with any of them except for one. They pressured me into detailing my spiral downward throughout the last semester, my history with this kind of illness, my, then brand new, diagnosis of bipolar disorder and subsequent cocktail of drugs to control it. By the end I was a sobbing, humiliated mess, begging them to just let me be for a few months.

They let the girl who didn’t believe in mental illness and insulted my mother walk all over them. I was required to log all my study hours (fair enough) but also only be partially inactive. I still had to participate in rush and volunteer and I was forced to go to multiple social events, when I told them I didn’t want to. Only some of this is common for inactive members, and I had more responsibilities added on which were untraditional. In the end, it would have served me better to just stay active, I’d have had less duties.

Then, as icing on top of all this, they had a secret meeting after I left about how to address my mental illness. They told all the execs and most of the other sisters to text, call or “run into me” at least once that semester. Not because they genuinely cared, but because they, and I’m almost quoting here, wanted to be sure that should I kill or harm myself, they couldn’t be held responsible.

Wow. Just wow.

So, insulted, disgusted, frustrated and feeling disrespected, I tried to bow out as gracefully as possible. My letter of resignation was concise, diplomatic and pretty short.

After that they told me they needed all my stuff with letters back, so I returned it all, even a gift from my aunt.

Then they told me I needed to return every gift my big or any other sister had given me. This included cross over (when we become members), big reveal (when we find out who our big is), and actual reveal (when we’re revealed as the newest sisters), which was all annoying but understandable. Then my big told them to ask me for any other gifts she’d given me back, birthday and Christmas gifts, along with a few souvenirs she’d brought me back from her summer trip, all of which had no sorority letters of any kind on them. I was a bit hurt but honestly I don’t care, I don’t want these gifts that bad, and I certainly don’t want those associated memories, you know?

So today I was supposed to meet with them down stairs in the dorm buildings main lobby to hand off the gifts and SURPRISE SURPRISE, no one showed up. I waited 6 minutes then went back to my room because I’m not wasting my time. (I tried texting the president multiple times before, during and after the meeting time, but she never answered, still hasn’t and it’s nearly 4:15 now)

My mom and I were discussing this hand off last week so I texted her and told her she was right about no one showing up despite our agreement, AND

MOM

She was so done with all their shit when I went back to school and they starting asking for personal medical histories and records that should be private. After that she was like “fuck em, cut em off, Hope” and she’s just gotten increasingly disgusted and infuriated by they behavior ever since.

So anyway, all that to say, I’m going to leave the crate with all the gifts in the very public lobby. If someone steals stuff out of the crate, whelp, maybe they should have showed up like they said?

Y’all, my momma don’t play games and I think it’s about time for me to take a page from her book.

#sorority #sorority life #college life #college #college drama #drama llama #some bullshit #hope rants about herself #personal #sigma lambda alpha #sigmalambdaalpha #SLA #ΣΛΑ

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damnthoseyes · 5 years

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Best Friends with CNCO

Full disclosure: I haven’t written anything in a VERY long time so I’m rusty as hell. Bear with me. Also, I learnt something while brainstorming for this: Erick is fucking difficult! It was really hard for me to come up with ideas for him for some reason.. And another thing: this is pretty long. Parts were pretty inspired and kind of got away from me. Anyway, here goes nothing

Caution: contains swearing. A lot of it.

Disclaimer: GIFs are definitely not mine

Christopher

Random giggle fits all the fucking time

Tickle wars

Going to restaurants and ordering way too much food, sharing everything then arguing over what was the best and worst

Food comas all the time

Constantly trying to get you to come out to clubs with him and Richard

Getting distracted by cakes in shop windows and salivating until you give in and buy everything

Pop punk sessions

Headbanging until you both have headaches

Him filming everything all the time until you want to throw his phone into the river

Always beating you at pool

Making faces at each other from across the room when you’re talking to other people

Literally acting like children all the time because you’re both grown ups

Unable to take anything seriously for more than 5 minutes

“STOP BITING ME!!”

Burying his head in your shoulder whenever he wants to laugh at inappropriate times

Having to drag him outside sometimes so he can experience some natural heat and be reintroduced to the sun

Half begging you to get food all the time and constantly complaining about being hungry until you stop whatever you’re doing just to shut him up

Constantly calling you a princess - sometimes affectionately and sometimes insultingly

Randomly singing all the time

Playing with his hair

Def-con one whenever he’s even remotely upset

“DALE”

Going “ay papa” at the same time in the same tone whenever you know he’s going to say it

Having to deal with his hypo ass

“How the fuck are you so perky?”

*coming over*

Chris: GOOD MORNING!!!

You: what’s so good about it? It’s 6am, why are you alive?

Richard

So many dirty jokes

Trading books

Him constantly trying to tell you how to dress and you flat out refusing to take his advice

Hard core car D&Ms

Random dance parties that go on for way too long

Slapping each other with random objects

Constantly trying to find activities for you guys to do

Having to stop him from buying entire stores

Threatening to leave him behind because he’s taking too long

Always trying to scare you then getting into a mini punch on when he really gets you

Always trying to lift you off the ground and cut off your breathing

“CAN YOU PUT A SHIRT ON FOR THE LOVE OF GOD?!”

Yelling at each other from across the room because you actually can’t be fucked getting up

Always swearing

Super protective all the time especially around men

Hunting for coffee at all hours

So many play fights

King and Queen of Pessimism

Calling him out for being short

“SO ARE YOU!! Leave me alone.”

Constantly shoving his phone in your face to show you pictures and videos of Aaliyah

Using her as a decoy whenever he says something to piss you off

Calling you whenever she’s playing with another boy and consulting with you on whether or not he should break it up

Having to remind him that she’s a baby and that if he’s like this now, imagine what’s going to happen when she’s a teenager

Him wanting to kill you for putting that thought into his head

“You think you’ve got problems, try having a kid.”

Never having a come back for this

Late night drinks after long days

*Seeing something unsettling*

Richard: *does that scream thing*

You: would you shUT THE FUCK UP?”

“Can you let go of my fucking ears?”

Yelling VAMANOS and clapping aggressively whenever he comes to pick you up and you’re not ready yet

Suffering from his death grip on your shoulder whenever he sees a gorgeous girl on the street

Zoning out whenever he’s talking about a girl

Richard: are you listening to me? I think I just found the love of my life!

He finds the “love of his life” at least twice a week

Nuzzling into his arm and trying to get his face whenever he has his head on a table because he’s tired or doesn’t want to deal with the world, just to quietly try to make him laugh

Zabdiel

Random cuddles all the time

Zabdiel: Are you okay?

You: Yeah, why?

Zabdiel: It’s ok, just cuddle

You: Get the hell away from me

Constantly having to pull him out of bed when he sleeps through your meeting time

You: ZabdIEL GET UP

Zabdiel: *grumbles*

You: I’m starving, GET THE HELL UP

Zabdiel: *grumbles*

You: Zabdiel, the world is coming to an end! You’re our only hope!

Zabdiel: *waves you away mumbling an mmhmm*

Falling asleep on you all the time

Naps for days

*Daily life*

Zabdiel: you really need to relax

You: you really need to shut the fuck up

Him trying to get you into yoga

In depth discussions on your travel plans

Always underestimating his size

Feeling very small whenever he stands very close to you

“Fucking tree”

Making him reach for stuff

Actual bear hugs

Stealing his clothes even though he’s supremely broad

Death stares all the time

Watching documentaries on the most random topic because he just wants to learn

“How do you say this?”

Having to pronounce everything at least 3 times

Scaring you out of your daze whenever he makes any kind of noise while you’re trying to concentrate since he’s usually so quiet

Resting his forearm on your shoulder to alert you to his presence because the world is tiny to him

Joel

Always going to musicals whenever good ones are in the city

Stealing his hats

Constantly trying to maintain conversations in various accents

Steering him away from pet stores and puppies on the street

Joel: PUPPY!!

You: No! Joel, no!! You can’t just take someone’s dog!

Joel: BUT I LOVE HIM

Netflix binge sessions

Stealing his clothes

“Step away from the mirror”

Constantly stealing food off your plate

You: GET YOUR OWN

Joel: ONE MORE

All the chocolate

Having to pull him out of shops because you’ve spent way too long looking at the same things

Making up games to kill time and getting way too competitive

Refusing to play board games with him because he cheats like crazy

Quoting dialogue from movies and making it sound like an unscripted conversation you’re actually having

Constantly trying to find new things to try and seriously criticizing them

*Daily life*

Joel: You look really pretty today

You: *suspicious* what do you want?

Joel: What, I can’t tell you you look pretty?

You: *raises eyebrows*

Joel: *sighs* are you busy tomorrow, I need a favour

*Waiting for him to get ready*

You: Your hair looks fine! Let’s go!

Joel: JUST FINE?!

You: Your hair is the most perfect thing in the universe LET’S GO

Erick

Constantly running jokes by you, never actually taking your opinion but asking for it anyway

Always sticking your tongues out at each other

Binge watching TV shows and getting way too invested

“Come on, mama’s boy!”

Cuddles all the time especially when he’s embarrassed

Having to defend him against the other guys when they start picking on him

Erick Colon Defence Squad

Nudging him back to reality when he goes off in his own little world

Always going to each other for advice

Saving each other from awkward conversations

“First one to laugh loses” competitions

Screaming matches whenever you play games because you both think the other cheats

Basically his personal photographer

Hugging you a little too tightly whenever he makes a joke at your expense

Stealing his beanies and actually trying to get away with wearing them in front of him without him trying to get it back

Him stealing your earrings all the time

Him falling asleep on your legs

Making funny faces at him whenever he gets too serious

*Every time you’re going out*

Erick: How’s the hair?

You: ...get the fuck out of the house

Mocking him when he tries to hit on girls

Letting him rant for a while just to see where he’s going to go with a particular topic

Making up random stories about what people are talking about on the street when you’re bored

Coming up with pranks and arguing over whose ideas are better

#cnco #cnco imagine #cnco fanfic #cnco preference #christopher velez #richard camacho #zabdiel de jesus #joel pimentel #erick brian colon #writings

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xiaosdinonuggies · 5 years

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Continuation from the story I started earlier. You can find it here if you wanna give it a read ^^ I do appreciate feedback. »»——⍟——««

It wasn’t until the next day that the exhausted hero woke up from the strain caused by the night before. She didn’t remember even going home, just remembered a loud scream before forgetting everything afterwards. Whatever had happened, she didn’t trust the so-called ‘ally of the heroes’, Iris. Looking around the room, she saw the begging eyes of a basset hound staring at her. It brought an instant smile to her face.

“Awww, Burrito. You’re cute.” She patted the dog for a moment before getting out of bed.

Once she slipped the fuzzy bunny slippers onto her feet, she realized that her costume was taken off and hanging up on the closet--fully washed and ironed. Two moments later, and older woman leaning on a cane hobbled into the bedroom. “Ms. West, you really should be careful when you jump through the windows. Someone could have seen you come crashing into the house, or heard you with all that noise you caused. Are you trying to hide your identity from criminals?” She tapped her cane against the woman’s arm with a frown. “You’re twenty-seven and have been doing this since you were a teenager. I’d expect you to know this by now.” “Sorry Nana.” In no way was this doting woman related to the young hero, but the two shared such a loving friendship that she couldn’t call the elderly woman anything different. She ended up leaving without saying anything else, just leaving a plate of pancakes on the desk before dipping from the room. Sighing, the hero went over towards the plate and plucked a few pancakes off the top before sitting down and opening her laptop. Someone had to have recorded last nights chase, the city was way too nosy to not have take a video of at least something.

Deciding to start with the common social media platforms, she opened up Twitter first and scrolled through it. When that struck out, Instagram, Facebook, and even YouTube were searched through. She found nothing, to her surprise. Checking the clock, it was well after 3 p.m. She’d been sitting there for almost four hours and came up with absolutely nothing.

Rubbing her eyes as she groaned, the thought of the dark web came to mind. Well....It wasn’t entirely a bad idea if the threat of being chased by Iris still lingered in the air. Besides, finding out who had shown up before she passed out was important. Maybe not just to figure out who needed thanking, but also because they might be in whatever trouble that was meant for her.

Still not wanting the dark web to be on her conscience, she tried seeing if perhaps a few others in the hero community could help her out. After all, most of the heroes with actual paying jobs had cameras all around the city. If she could get her hands on it...perhaps she’d know what happened last night. Sliding her phone from her pocket, she dialed the first number that popped up. It was only labeled with a leaf, nothing more. If anyone had gotten a hold of her phone, she didn’t want anyone getting much more than numbers. “What West? Everyone knows I’m on vacation in Paris. Its 2 in the morning, make it quick before I send a pipe bomb to your house.” The girl on the end of the line had definitely just been woken up and wasn’t too happy about it. “Sorry, sorry. I was wondering if you had any cameras set up near the dark side?” The dark side was usually what they referred to the rougher side of the city, rather than calling it something worse. “You couldn’t have called my brother--or either one of my sisters? Never mind...I do but you’re going to need the login for it. I’ll just text it to you. Goodnight and good luck with whatever you’re doing.” The line dropped right after that.

Just as promised, the login and link to the cameras was sent to her phone. While there was the feeling of guilt for waking the resting vigilante during her one month of rest, this was urgent. Besides, she was convinced the other girl’s older brother had some sort of weird condition that caused him to disrespect most the people he came in contact with. Weird.

The cameras were definitely more useful than the internet had been. The exact moment had been fully recorded from the time the canister dropped to when she was having trouble breathing. “Dear god, I look like I’m having heart burn or something. That’s attractive.” She stopped providing commentary for herself when a blur moved across the screen. After nearly choking on her own saliva, she replayed the whole thing just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

She threw her hands in the air. “That’s it. My career is over.”

The very petty-thief she’d been trying to catch since she was nineteen had taken a high-voltage hit to the back for her right after kicking her through the portal to send her home. That explained why she woke up in her bedroom instead of behind a dumpster. But why save her?

Throwing herself into full work mode, she politely asked Nana to make a large pot of hot tea since she’d be sitting there a while. As she started digging into any little thing she could find on Iris, the older woman sat behind her and offered advice every once in a while. The sun had set by the time she had actually collected enough that was considered useful.

It seemed that the government-sponsored company wasn't as heroic as the people they claimed to work with. Several personal blogs, including those of a small-time reporter, had gone into detail about community heroes going missing after talking with Iris. All of them had been approached in the same way she had, Iris claiming they mistook the hero for a villain or criminal and apologizing for it. However, there were never any sightings of the heroes in question once they’d been reportedly released.

Putting her cup of tea down, a frown worked its way onto her face. If heroes had been going missing, she couldn’t imagine what had been happening to them. Whatever Iris was doing must have been behind the larger heroes' backs, and probably wasn't anything legal if it was being covered up so well. Depending on what was actually going on in their facilities, they were likely treating their villains worse than their potentially kidnapped heroes. “ You don’t find any of this offensive?” Nana spoke up, raising an eyebrow from her own tea. “What do you mean?” “They went after you. That means they think you’re a nobody!”

------

Two hours had gone by and there was an open suitcase on her bed. Her costume was shoved inside it, along with anything else she could possibly fit. When she leaned over to zip it, a Scottish Fold hopped onto the pillows that had been forcefully pushed into the overflowing suitcases. This led to more stuff being somehow fit inside the case, mostly cat products.

“I mean if this goes sour, at least I have you and Burrito. You wanna go break a villain out of jail Simon?” The cat meowed back at her in response. “This is why I’m single. I talk to cats.”

Bringing the suitcase to a rather broken-down looking car, she said her goodbyes to the elderly woman before putting the two animals in the car and driving off. She’d reached out to another friend, getting a location of the Iris-owned facility in the city. It was near the emptier section where the rich bought huge properties for the sole purpose of not having to look at their neighbors. She supposed that would have been a perfect spot for them to set up, somewhere no one would notice anything sketchy going on.

It was well into the late hours of the night, maybe early morning when she pulled into the parking lot of a Dollar General with the lights off. It was about a half-mile away from the actual facility, but she didn’t want anyone seeing her car so close by and piecing things together. The cat was on her shoulder as she pulled a backpack from the trunk of the car and slung it over the opposite shoulder. Thus began the twenty minute walk towards the facility, and the poor performance of her attempting to climb someone’s storage warehouse.

Once she had gotten up there, she looked over the facility and started taking photos for later. It was only when she noticed a lone female agent standing off to the side while talking annoyingly loud on the phone. A grin twitched at the corners of the hero’s mouth. “You’ll do Karen, you’ll do.” Sliding the backpack onto the roof, she unzipped it and pulled out a brown wig similar to the Karen’s hair.

After fixing the wig to her head, she made quick work of knocking the woman unconscious and stealing her uniform, leaving a thin dark-colored blanket just to keep her body hidden. Thankfully this woman had a pretty plain face and always wore sunglasses, so it wasn't entirely hard to pull something like this off. After stealing the woman's ID badge and putting Simon in her bag, the nervous twenty-seven-year-old made her way to the front doors.

Nobody questioned her when she walked back inside, lifting her phone to her ear as if she were still talking on it. A few people rolled their eyes, as if this were a regular thing. ‘It kind of makes me wonder how hard it actually is to get in here.’

Trying to be subtle while searching for something had no clue as the whereabouts to was incredibly difficult. She kept stumbling over the high heels, laughing and just blaming it on that ‘darn gravitational pull’. Eventually she tripped into another hallway. It was long, and only had one door at the very end. Deciding this had to be it, she picked herself up and made her way down the hall as quietly as possible. The door was made of steal and had tempered bulletproof glass in the corner. Even with the high heels, she was still too short to reach it.

Leaning on the door in an attempt to hear through it, she got nothing. Deciding to test her luck, she pushed on the door handle. Surprisingly, it opened. There was only one person in the room, so she shut the door and locked it. Hanging upside down in chains was the person she’d been trying to stop for years. She stared into his green eyes, only finding them full of fear. It was such a change from arrogant and mischievous that it shocked her to her core.

“I told you, I don't know anything. I don’t know who they are!” He started thrashing around to the point where she just pulled the wig and glasses off. There was a purple-colored domino mask replacing her usual one but it still looked enough like her normal costume to be recognizable. A net was covering her natural hair for the moment, so she wasn't too worried. “Sucky name?” He looked at her with confusion in his eyes. “You really shouldn’t be here. You need to go. They’re trying to find you.” “Yeah, I’ve got that. But I didn’t come all the way out here just to leave you behind. Also stop calling me that, my name is Origami.” She went over to the chains and started working at the lock while the cat climbed from her purse and went over to the barred window. “Exactly. Sucky name. I’ll stop calling you that when you stop calling me Cottontail.” Without warning, the chains unraveled and he tumbled to the floor head-first. “You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Grinning, she pulled the chains to the side and let them pile in the corner.

There was a clanging noise as the window and bars hit the floor. It made the villain jump a bit but Origami just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Simon do you really have to be that loud?” “Wait, you have a magical cat? All these years and you’ve never once brought your cat, who can apparently cut through metal rods, to any of our fights.” He stared at her, but she just shrugged and pointed to the open window. “Didn’t see the need to bother him for a skinny crook like you. Now climb out that window before I punt your fuzzy butt out of it for you. I don’t have all night.” He snorted a bitterly but obeyed, starting to climb out the window. “Funny. I don’t recall you ever having caught me.”

Once he had gotten out, she dropped next to him with the cat in her arms. “What’s next, hero?” He was referring to the large group that currently had their guns pointed at the both of them. With a bit of hesitation, she pulled three of the folded wolves and blew onto them. They grew and sprang to life, the six foot creations immediately taking action and beginning to make quick work of them. Almost instantly her chest tightened and her breathing became labored. It wasn't anything she couldn’t handle for the moment, though. Grabbing his hand, she pulled another paper creation out of her bag. Though, this time it was a butterfly. When it grew, it was only about four feet. Even still, it was enough to carry them off into the coming sunrise.

#writing #original writing #fiction #hero #hero x villain #villain #villain x hero #writers on tumblr #villains and heroes #heroes and villains #heroes

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heyyyharry · 6 years

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Blackout (from the Flatmate!Harry Series)

…in which there’s a big storm, and Harry and Y/N cannot leave their flat.

Warning: fluff, and (finally) smut.

It’s 4 AM where I live and I’m supposed to get up at 7, but I cannot sleep soooo.

Ben tells Y/N not to move as he carefully layers another coat of nail polish on his neighbor’s pinky, looking pretty proud of himself for how nice it turns out. Y/N giggles. She’s never actually paid attention to her nails, let alone painted them herself. She tried and failed miserably, thank God Ben’s here for the rescue.

“Oooh I love this color, Ben! Harry’s so gonna make fun of me for this though!”

“Knowing Harry, he would still swoon over you, I guarantee!”

Harry’s on the phone with Niall in the living room and has no idea Y/N and Ben are in her room gossiping about him.

Y/N holds both hands in front of her to admire Ben’s art work, then says happily, “I should practice nail painting on Harry.”

“You should definitely!” Ben chuckles. “But seriously though, thank you for doing this.”

“Doing what? You were the one who did all the work for me.”

“Inviting me over, spending time with me. It’s been a rough couple days lately. It’s good to spend some time with somebody who’s not yourself.”

Y/N heaves out a smile as she stares empathetically at her neighbor. Yes, the main reason she invited Ben over was because he’d been devastated over his fiancé cheating on him then breaking off the engagement right after, but that’s not the only reason.

“To be honest, I also need to spend more time with someone else other than Harry.”

Ben looks at her with wide eyes and the girl has to clarify right away.

“I love Harry, I do. I enjoy spending every minute with him, but I’m kinda afraid I’d scare him off if I started acting too clingy, which is very likely to happen.”

“I think you’re just overthinking, Y/N. It’s normal to spend a lot of time with him, it’s unavoidable. I mean, you two live together!”

Y/N rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively. “True. But I don’t know…Harry’s not used to having a serious girlfriend. And I just…I want to be with him all the time, but I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

“So you’re obsessed with your boyfriend, big freaking deal.”

“You don’t get it.” She shakes her head in response to Ben’s confused expression. “Harry rarely hangs out with his friends anymore. I don’t want him to feel like he’s obliged to spend every second with me. And I read it online that if you spend too much time with your partner, it’s more likely that one of you, or maybe both, will get tired of each other.”

“Let me stop you right there and call it bullshit!” Ben interrupts Y/N, holding his forefinger in front of her face. “Look, honey. Why don’t you just enjoy being in love and let everything happen naturally? I think you’re trying way too hard.”

“How can I not?” Y/N lifts her shoulders. “I...He’s the only good thing that’s happened to me in a long time...I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Everything happens for a reason whether you like it or not, so you should, I don’t know, go with the flow I guess? Relationships are unpredictable, Y/N, just be happy and enjoy every moment of it.”

Y/N doesn’t reply to Ben, she stays silent. He can only hope his advice doesn’t go over her head.

…

“I’m telling you, she’s been keeping distance!” Harry keeps his voice down, but he has to raise his head from the sofa to check if the door of Y/N’s room is still closed. On the phone, Niall remains very calm in contrast to his best friend’s anxious state. Ever since Harry got a girlfriend, Niall has somehow become his love guru though he’s not a lot more experienced than his best friend when it comes to a serious relationship.

“Have you guys been having sex?“

“No, in fact, we haven’t. We’ve decided to wait.”

“For what? Marriage or her finding a guy who would fuck her? The latter would be more likely.”

“Wait until she’s ready, you dick!” Harry throws his head back on the arm rest and blows up his cheeks. “But I guess you’re partly right, maybe sex is the reason, because she said she was afraid that I’d leave her after we’ve had sex. We’ve talked about it already, but I feel like she’s still worried somehow.”

“Would you though? Leave her, I mean.”

“Of course not! It’s never about sex when it comes to Y/N.”

“Then prove it to her.”

“How?”

“I don’t know!”

“Jesus, Niall, what kind of advisor are you?”

“The kind that’s just as clueless as you are when it comes to stuff like this? You should get more friends.”

Harry sighs into his palm and nods. “Maybe I should.”

The conversation is suddenly interrupted by the laughters coming from Y/N’s bedroom. She walks out soon after, followed by Ben. Harry quickly tells Niall he would ring him back, then ends the call just in time his girlfriend and their neighbor returns to the living room.

“I have to be at work, but I’ll be done at seven and I’ll pick you up.”

“Great!” says Y/N, smiling as she holds the door open for Ben to leave.

“You’re going out with Ben tonight?” Harry frantically asks as he sits up straight on the sofa. His girlfriend closes the door and answers him with a firm nod.

“Yeah. Girls’ night out. Aren’t you going out with Niall?“

“No.” He shakes his head slowly. “I thought we were going to a movie.”

“No…We said next week.”

“We said today,” Harry asserts. He cannot be more certain because he remembers correctly everything Y/N has ever said to him (well, maybe minus the parts where she asks him to do chores or buy something on his way home). “But never mind. If you already have plan, we’ll go next week.”

Y/N only opens her mouth to speak when the power in the flat goes off all at once and she screams so loud that almost sends Harry flying off the sofa. He quickly walks towards the nearest window to open the curtain for some natural light, only to find the sun is setting, and it’s still raining cats and dogs.

Scattered showers pop up throughout the entire day, and Harry’s been hoping the weather would improve, but seemingly it only gets worse and worse as the day’s coming to an end. Now the only things he can make out through the thick, white rain curtain are the dim street lights and headlights from the vehicles rushing home to avoid the upcoming storm, which was mentioned in the weather forecast.

“Guess your plan’s cancelled.” Harry turns to Y/N, smiling a little bit. She sighs, but looks rather at ease.

“I guess so.”

...

Ben texts Y/N to let her know he’s safe from the storm, but is now stuck at a supermarket somewhere for it’s impossible to travel in this kind of weather. Harry follows Y/N into the kitchen, using his phone as a flashlight so she can see in the dark. She opens the cabinet and mumbles a small ‘yes’ when she finally finds the candles she’s been searching for. She bought them a while ago despite Harry complaining they would be a waste of money, now it’s been proven he was wrong and she was right.

As Y/N lights up several candles around the flat, Harry looks outside from the window, the sight in front of him could be taken straight out from a horror movie. The howling wind is slamming against the glass with violent force as if its intention was to break it and intrude into their living room. The rain’s pouring down harder than a waterfall, lightning strikes here and there, lighting up the sky for a second before vanishing, soon followed by the cracking sound of thunder shaking up the whole room.

“Stay close to me, I’m fragile…” Harry begs, clinging onto his girlfriend’s arm, making her giggle.

“What happened to ‘be the Lois Lane to my Superman’?”

“I was very inspired after that Superman movie, okay?”

The candles turn out to be a great idea, because their flat has been transformed from a horror classic to a Christmas film, all cosy and warm, the complete opposite of what’s going on outdoors. Harry’s settled on the sofa with his laptop lying on his belly, there’s no internet so he decides to work on his essay until his laptop runs out of battery. Y/N’s sitting on the floor beside him. She’s trying to follow Ben’s tips to paint her toe nails, it’s much more challenging when you do it in the faded candlelight though.

“Need any help?” Harry chuckles as he notices his girlfriend’s trembling fingers trying to not fuck up. She doesn’t look up at him now that her entire attention is on the tiny brush.

“As if you can do better,” she says. Harry immediately closes his laptop as a result, and moves to join her on the floor, sitting with his legs crossed.

“Psst. Gimme that!” With a smirk on his face, Harry takes the nail brush from his girlfriend, then slouches down a bit to carefully finish the first coat on her toe nail. Y/N widens her eyes in shock as it looks perfect on his very first attempt.

In response to Y/N’s reaction, Harry tells her, “I used to paint my nails.”

“No way.”

“Way. I thought black nail polish gave me the rock star look.”

Y/N can imagine Harry’s nail painted black and the thought of him touching her with those hands alone is enough to get her off mentally.

“Let me paint your nails! It’d be so sexy.”

Her offer makes him snort. “I’m already sexy.”

“Even sexier!” she says, holding her hands together, big round eyes staring at him. “Please?”

He cannot say no to her, not after she’s pulled the puppy dog eyes and used that magic word on him. So Harry voluntarily gives her his hand and allows her to do whatever she wants with it, same goes with his heart. He is such a fool for her.

Y/N does struggle a little bit at the beginning, but with Harry’s guidance she's able to finish one hand, then she stops because she gets tired.

“Hey, I want a refund. Do both!”

“You can do your left hand on your own, should be a piece of cake to you.” Y/N giggles then gives his right hand a kiss. “Seriously though, I’m impressed. I feel like there’s still so many things I haven’t learnt about you.”

“Well...” Harry takes a deep breath. “Now since we have nothing to do, why don’t we play a game of Truth or Truth to get to know each other better?”

“Truth or Truth?” Y/N stares at him funny.

“Like Truth or Dare, but you can only pick truth.”

“Sounds more like a police interrogation to me!”

“You’re in or not, Y/N?”

“In. I’m in.” Y/N clears her throat, tries her best not to laugh and sits up straight. “Okay, I will ask you first, because you know about me more than I do about you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, Harry, when did you lose your first kiss and your virginity, and who did you lose them to?”

Harry presses his lips together as he throws his head back to look at the ceiling, thinking for a little while before he answers, “so I was fifteen when I lost both to the same person, an old friend of mine. Her family moved away a year later and I haven’t spoken to her since.”

Y/N furrows her eyebrows at Harry, clearly not happy to hear that answer. “What’s her name?”

“Olivia. Why?” Harry snorts, slightly amused by the obvious jealousy written on Y/N’s face. He loves to drive her mad, it’s been like that since the first time they met. “Told ya I haven’t talked to her in years, baby.”

“I thought I was your first real crush.”

“You are." Harry reaches out to stroke his girlfriend’s cheek and feels her soften all at once. “Ollie and I didn’t even date. We were kind of close friends, I’d known her since we were in middle school. We did it because we were just horny and curious, no romance involved, I assure you. Then she moved away and we lost touch.”

“Ollie and I,” Y/N mocks Harry’s voice, her arms crossed sternly in front of her chest. Harry scoots closer to her and pulls her onto his lap all of a sudden, making the girl squeal in shock. Still she doesn’t protest and eventually wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

“I hate her,” she whispers against Harry’s lips with her eyes shut. She has no idea how much he’s enjoying how cute she looks when she’s jealous.

“Don’t hate her. She’s a stranger now. You’re my girl,” says Harry, staring at Y/N deep in the eyes then presses his thumb gently against her bottom lip. “Aren’t you?”

“I am. I’m your girl.” He makes her so fucking weak it’s embarrassing sometimes.

“Now, my turn to ask.” Harry chuckles and Y/N suddenly remembers they’re in the middle of this stupid Truth or Truth game. The sexual tension has made it impossible for her to concentrate and she secretly praises him for keeping his cool.

“Who’s your first crush? I know it ain’t me.”

Y/N giggles at the pout on his face. “One of my classmates in fifth grade. I thought he was cute, always helped me with Math and shared me his food at lunch.”

“Lameeee. Hate him already.”

“We were kids!” Y/N laughs, fingers toying with the hair at the back of Harry’s head. “Have I told you about my first time having sex?”

“Yeah, with your prom date, right?”

Y/N nods her head yes. “I was so drunk, and heartbroken that my ex-boyfriend cheated on me a few days before Prom. Having sex that night was the stupidest decision I’ve ever made. Had I waited a couple years later, I could’ve done it with you.”

“You mean...”

The look on Harry’s face cracks Y/N up. She nods fast. “If it was possible, I would want you to be my first, Harry.”

“Oh...” is Harry’s response because he’s utterly speechless, his inner voice, however, is screaming with joy. She must trust him a lot to even think about having him take her virginity, which, unfortunately will never happen, yet knowing so makes him thrilled to bits.

“I love you. Why’s it so hard to believe?” Y/N asks quietly with her forehead pressed against his and their noses touching. Harry closes his eyes and heaves out a heavy sigh.

“Lately you’ve been keeping your distance so I thought...”

Y/N immediately pulls away then grabs his face with both of her hands. “No, no, no. Gosh, the only reason I’ve been doing that is because I want to give you space. I noticed that you rarely went out with your friends anymore, don’t want you to change your life completely for me.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Y/N, I rarely go out with my friends anymore because they either get completely wasted or find some random hookups. You don’t want me to do that, do you?”

She shakes her head rapidly without a second thought. Harry smiles at her contently.

“I don’t want to either. I have you now. Cheesy as this may sound, I’d choose staying at home doing homework with you over any party.”

And Y/N cannot stop grinning as she replays that sentence over and over again in her head. She says to him, “you turning into an anti social for me is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done.”

Harry places one hand on his left chest and pretends to be in so much pain. “You making jokes during my romantic moments is the least romantic thing you’ve ever done.”

“That makes two of us.” Y/N relaxes her shoulders and slides her hands from the back of his head down to his chest. In the soft candlelight, he watches her smile slowly fades away. She sucks in a breath then lets it all out. “I know I shouldn’t think too much about this, but I cannot help it...I’ve dealt with assholes my entire life, thinking that I’d be better off alone. And then you happened...and I can’t imagine losing you.”

“Baby...” Harry throws his head back as he secures his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer to him. “To be honest, I’m just as scared as you are, but looking back, my life kinda took its turning point on the day we met and it’s been a crazy ride but I’ve never been happier. Why don’t we just enjoy the moment and not worry too much about the future?” He takes her hands from his chest and holds them tight. “Right now, it’s just you and me against the world. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Y/N gives Harry a nod and leans in to reattach their lips, slightly pushing him down so he’s lying on his back and she's on top of him. Her fingers get lost in his hair whilst his find their way from her knees to her bottom then slide under her shirt, resting on her bare back after given a nod as her permission. This is the furthest they’ve gone in this relationship, but it’s not enough for Y/N. She wants him more than this. She has no idea what’s gotten into her when she straight off tells him, “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

Harry, still trying to catch his breath, stares at his girlfriend in disbelief. Was she drunk, he would blame it on the alcohol, but she’s sober, and this is so unlike her, the pure and innocent Y/N he’s always known. He cannot say he’s not enjoying this.

“You’re sure?”

“Do I look like I’m not?”

“Feisty.” Harry chuckles, placing one hand at the back of her head, bringing her mouth back on his own as he flips them over so he’s now on top.

“Do you want to move this to the bed?” he asks and she shakes her head. The only thing she wants right now is him.

“Good, neither did I,” he admits and closes the space between them again. They’ve been waiting so long for this, they cannot wait any longer, even just a minute. Though having sex on the floor is not exactly the romantic scenario they’ve expected, with all the candles all around them, it’s pretty close, they would say.

Harry and Y/N break apart for a brief second to pull his t-shirt off and hers soon follows, tossed away on the floor somewhere, leaving her half-naked in front of him for the first time. By the glow of the candlelight, he thinks she’s even more stunning, the shadows dancing across her features, accentuating the color of her hair. He parts his lips, wanting to tell her how beautiful she looks, but she’s already one step ahead of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathes and his eyes sparkles with passion.

“So are you,” he admires before coming back to her, pressing his nose to the dip of her throat and inhaling her, drunk with her scent. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Harry holds his breath, slowly tracing his fingertips across her skin as if she was made of glass, easily breakable.

The rest of their clothes soon come off, Y/N feels so vulnerable and exposed. This is not her first time having sex, why does it feel like it is? Maybe because of the way Harry’s caressing her cheeks, constantly asking if she’s okay, telling her how beautiful she is, the things that she didn’t get to hear on her actual first time. She’s so lost in him, completely infatuated by him. She believes she belongs to him, and even if she wanted to, she could never leave.

The rain is still thumping against the window, but all Harry and Y/N can hear is each other’s breathing and heartbeats. They’ve lost track of time as they kiss, two bodies kneading against each other. It’s all new to Harry, he’s never made love before, because he’s never been in love with anyone else. He knows this isn’t the first for neither of them but he wants to take his time with her, to make her feel good because she deserves that.

Y/N lets out a light moan when his fingers find their way into her heat and he has to audibly remind her to start breathing again. He lays kisses all over her face, letting her know how good she feels and how much he loves her. It doesn’t take too long for Y/N to start squirming and biting on her bottom lip as she feels her release building, but she wants to fall over the edge with him inside of her so she grabs his wrist and stops him just in time.

Harry withdraws his hand from her thigh and brings his fingers to his lips to lick them clean, the sight of it makes Y/N groan in desperation. She takes no time to bring his lips back to hers, tasting herself in the warmth of his mouth. It’s crazy how she hasn’t even reached her high yet and he’s already got her seeing stars.

Y/N pets Harry’s cheek as he pulls back and looks down at her.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” His voice almost breaks as he holds her close and she clings to the back of his head. “I don’t want you to leave.”

His last words nearly bring her to tears. With all the shitty relationships in the past she almost thought no one would ever love her for real, now he’s here, telling her she’s everything he’s ever wanted, begging her to stay, proving all her doubts and fears wrong. He’s like her knight in shining armor.

“I’m not gonna leave, not ever,” she says, and she means every single word.

"I love you,” he mumbles against her lips for the hundredth time, then lifts her legs to his hips as Y/N reaches down to take him in her palm, her sudden touch makes his breath hitch.

“Wait...Condom,” he murmurs as his eyelids flutter and Y/N quickly assures him that she’s on the pills. Without hesitation, she slips the very tip of him inside her, the tightness causes both of them to gasp.

She gives him a sly smile, holding his eye contact as she feels him slowly sink himself deep inside her. It takes her a while to adjust to this pleasing unfamiliarity. Harry thrusts slow and deep, causing his name to fall from her lips again and again. He holds her eye contact still, even though both of them are fighting to keep their eyes open. There’s no part of him that she cannot feel, and the feeling is just overwhelming. Harry’s eyes squeezing shut as he drops his head to her chest. She kisses his hair, fingers crawling down his back, letting the pleasure take over. The movement of his hips speeds up and Y/N feels the heat spreading through her veins.

“Oh God, baby, fuck,” Harry curses against her skin while lifting both of their hips to get a better angle. Y/N arches her back as uncontrollable soft moans fall from her lips. She feels his entire body tense as well as her own.

“I’m so close,” she says breathlessly and he pushes her hair from her face, slipping his hand between their moving bodies to circle his finger tips against her clit, causing her to suck in a breath and clings tighter to his shoulders.

“Let go baby,” he coaxes softly, his hips moving in time with his hand as he cries out when her walls clench tight around him.

Another moan escapes Y/N’s lips as she struggles to hold off her release. Harry speeds up slightly, goes a little deeper and harder and Y/N starts falling apart in his shaking arms. Harry’s mouth falls open, his brows pulled in and his eyes fight to stay open to witness her reaching her climax, repeating his name over and over again. He pushes though, even though his whole body is coming apart, and they both cry out until there’s nothing left they can give each other.

All out of breath, Harry flips them over so she’s lying on his chest and he wraps his strong arms around her delicate body. They lay there on the floor, their breaths gradually come in sync after a little while and Y/N’s obliviously beaming when Harry tightens his grip and holds her close. Those small flickering flames around them grow dimmer every moment as the wax melts down, but Y/N can still make out a smile twitching at Harry’s lips. He takes her hand which is resting on his chest and raises it to his lips.

“If you’re wondering, we had sex, and I still love you.”

“I’m not wondering.” She kisses his cheek, closing her eyes and sighing. “And I love you too.”

#so i kind of suck at writing smut #but i feel like this is necessary #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #flatmate!harry #boyfriend!harry #bestfriend!harry

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admirable-mairon · 5 years

Text

Update on my life and whatnot

Some of you have asked/wondered what happened in my life and just....... How I’m holding up.

Something that’s always worked for me is to simply write everything down in a long rant post, and so that is what I will do. Both for those who are curious, but also so that I will be able to put this down without having to worry about it bombarding me in every waking moment of every day.

There will be few happy things under the cut. TW for abuse (physical and verbal), trauma, threats of self-harm and suicide, mental illness, insults and harsh language. Despite all that, I promise that the post ends on a good note

Alright so where do I begin.......

Back in April I started going on Tinder and Her - Two dating apps. Not because I was looking, per se, but because I wanted to push myself out of my comfort zone and hopefully gain some form of confidence. I just wanted to try this whole ‘dating app’ thing out.

And well, it went........ It went better than I had expected. I met a person that I fell in fast love with, something that was ENTIERLY new for me. Sure, when I was together with my ex I loved him - and I still do - but I had never felt this intense... I don’t know. I had never felt anything this intense before. I both jot this down to this being my first ever girlfriend, AND the fact that I had gotten my diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder earlier the same year (a really short and simplified description of that would be a lack of intuitive nuance.Emotions are either really bad or really good - not in between on a spectrum).

Fast forward and as the end of 2018 was creeping closer I had moved in with them, I had gotten myself a dog (whom I love very much still), we had a bigger apartment than before, I only have one year left at uni, they started talking about marriage, etc.....

And then, on the 28th of December 2018, my life completely shattered. They threatened to hit me and physically forced me to not leave their presence.

For clarification, my ex, and abuser, is a gender-fluid lesbian whose prefered pronouns are They, which is what I will refer to them as.

So how the hell did it all come about?

Well - My grandpa died last summer, my grandma lives in a home now, and so my mother is cleaning out their old house. Naturally, she asked me and my brother whether there were any things, furniture etc, that we wanted to keep. I said “I’m interested in at least one of those” and left it at that.

As I told them when they woke though, around noon, they immideately grew..... Intimidating. Scary. Turns I wasn’t allowed to keep that piece of furniture, and the fact that it had belonged to my grandfather “didn’t matter”. I refused to take that kind of talk, especially first thing in the morning, and told them that the discussion was over. I didn’t want to talk about it.

Once again, I was not allowed to say no. They kept going, and seeing as they ignored my verbal ‘no’, I took up my phone to scroll around and show them physically that I wouldn’t keep talking about it.... At which point they reached forward to take my phone from me.

My rapist used to do that - my latest abuser - and I reacted on instinct, and took it back. Seeing as my nails are long I accidentally scratched them, which they used against me even as I tried to apologize.

“You’re lucky I’m not like you, or I would have broken up with you now, because you hurt me physically”

“I know - I’m sorry! I panicked when you tried to take my phone!”

“Well that doesn’t matter. I didn’t try to take it, I tried to push it down. I COULD have just taken it and thrown it to the other side of the room and into a wall”

Aka I should be happy that it wasn’t worse.

Feeling REALLY unsettled now I tried to leave the bedroom, but I wasn’t allowed to. They PHYSICALLY placed themself in front of me and blocked my path, towering over me and refusing to let me leave. They physically blocked the doorway, but seeing as I’m stronger and heavier I managed to push myself out through a surge of adrenaline, and I ran to the bathroom so I could lock myself in until it was safe.

That didn’t happen. They ran after me and forced the door open, not letting me tug it closed no matter what I did. At this point I was desperate and screaming at them to leave me alone, but they refused. I didn’t get a choice in the matter. So finally I screamed what had been echoing subtly at the back of my head for weeks:

“It doesn’t feel like you want a girlfriend - It feels like you just want a servant!”

And that is when they raised their hand in a clear threat to hit me. They did so twice, and I was deadly afraid at this point. I screeched at them to leave me alone and all they did was keep repeating the phrase:

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you always exaggerate?”

They also physically tried to shut me up by pushing a finger onto my mouth, and I was desperate and pumped with adrenaline at that point. But I wasn’t just scared - I was also angry. Beyond angry - I was blindingly furious.

I don’t remember why atm, but they suddenly started crying about the whole ordeal, and I quite frankly said that I didn’t feel sorry for them. I was furious, and THEY threatened me, not the other way around.

Things escalated further then. They ran into the bathroom and started tearing out every single box and cupboard and shelf - all in search for razors so they could cut themself. Realizing this, of course, I threw myself after them and used all my strength to pull them back. When they didn’t find the razors (and because I held on) - They ran into the kitchen and struggled to get to our kitchen knives. Yup - I’m talking about meat knives, vegetable knives, bread knives, etc.

I managed to pull them back into the living room at which point they calmed down somewhat. I said I would call the doctor - and they promised me dearly that they would jump from the balcony if I did. They later admitted that they deliberately struggled to force me to hurt them when I restrained them, aka they used my body as a tool to self-harm.

At that point I was just......... Exhausted. Empty. Drained. And so unbelievably hurt and betrayed. But our dog needed a walk, so I took him out and called my best friend meanwhile - telling her about the situation.

I want you to understand why I didn’t leave right at that moment - I had nowhere to go. Where WOULD I go?! Gothenburg is a hellscape when it comes to finding apartments or homes, I had already paid the rent for that apartment, etc. The only reason I didn’t leave then and there was because there were too many loose strings. There were couches I could sleep on, sure - but what about an apartment? What about my own room? Where would I live safetly?

During all this time, I also updated my chosen family in Denmark about what happened, to which the response was “We will get you down here. You’re in danger. We support you in everything you do”.

I decided to stay one more day at least. I planned on writing two lists - One with pros of staying and one with cons. That, and I needed to think...... AND we were going to see the Hunchback of Notre-Dame the day after. I had waited to see that show for FIVE YEARS and I was not going to miss it because my partner decided to be an asshole.

Fast forward to the evening of the 29th. The day had gone on...... Fine. But I knew from experience that I wasn’t actually feeling it. I had no romantic feelings, no love - no affection for the human next to me other than the barest form of compassion that is “I would really like you to not die”.

I wrote the list, I read it to them, because parts of it also came down to their reaction to being told what not to do.

Well - I wouldn’t be writing this if they had realized their mistakes, would I?

The immideate response to everything was to throw blame on everyone else, on me for making them mad, for provoking them, on their mother, on their illnesses and their autism, which I shut down immideately. I have mental illnesses as well as BPD, but that doesn’t give me the right to blame ABUSE on it and refuse to correct my behaviour.

I broke up with them then, though it was in..... more careful terms than I would have wished. I wish I had just said it outright, but it’s hard to dump someone you know? I am a compassionate person - I didn’t want to crush them further, especially cause they had threatened with suicide the day before. They begged me to stay, naturally, and said they would do anything to have me stay. However, when I brought up that I would like for her to go to the doctor, while I went down to my family in Denmark, they once again refused. They wanted me to simply sit at home, because she saw it as punishment.

After a lot of going back and forth I managed to convince them to go to one of our neighbours, their best friend, while I made some calls and sorted out my brain.

I called my best friend, to sort my thoughts out, I called the doctor to get advice and information on how their routines work, and then I called my ex’s father to explain the situation. He had the right to know that his child was heavily suicidal and that I wouldn’t be there to take care of it. Furthermore, I needed him to watch our dog just for a couple of days. Not forever, but just until I was in a safe place, and had made quite a lot of calls just in case we would have to sell him on.

I also packed my stuff that night, and bought my ticket for Denmark. But what does one pack when one is running for one’s life? I packed necessities, naturally, but also valuables I didn’t need, because they had proven to be violent so I had no way of knowing they WOULDN’T destroy my things while I was gone.

They soon realized what I was doing however, as I kept in contact with both the friend and their dad, and I was ORDERED not to go to Denmark, at which point I’m honestly proud of my reply.

“If you leave for Denmark, we are over” “Great. Then the relationship is over at 10.55 tomorrow morning”

All night I also had to watch over our puppy of course - The last night I would ever spend with him, and this is the part where I usually break into tears. Even now. I can tell the rest of it with a certain cold hate - I do not mourn my relationship, but I......... I mourn my little baby boy.

He had no idea that that was the last time he would ever get to see his favourite mommy. He had no idea that he would never get to sleep on my chest again, that I would never kiss his little head or nose again, that this time Mommy would never again come back once mommy left. I’m crying now that I write this. Only now, because I miss my baby boy so much - I love him....! But I can’t take care of a dog, I barely have a home, I don’t have the time because of my studies, and while my ex doesn’t have a lot of money, they have resources. And if they can’t take care of him, I contacted his previous owner to make sure that there was a safe place he could go.

I miss my Hanzo so much that my heart breaks, and seeing little dogs downtown actually physically hurt nowadays, because I know that somewhere there’s a darling boy who will never know where his Mommy went. He will never know how much I love him.

I had to leave though, and leave I did. I called my internship and explained the situation, I contacted Hanzo’s first owner, AND surprisingly, I called my mother. I guess no matter how much anger and disappointment I have towards her - When my life shattered I really really just wanted my mom. And for the first time she actually supported me in the way I needed. She was THERE for me! I wasn’t scolded for what I had done, I wasn’t blamed for my own abuse - She actually behaved like I’ve heard mothers are supposed to.

I healed rather quick after that, or rather I put myself together thanks to my family in Denmark. There was disney, and food, and DnD and just so much love and freedom. I wasn’t even SAD that I had left - I was just so relieved and happy and free! Like I could breathe again, even though I couldn’t pinpoint when I had stopped, you know? All through it my parents and friends back home did everything they could to help me solve the issue of the fact that I was now homeless. I am so privileged and happy to have them in my life - I had help and support where many might not have. Some might not have had the opportunity I did. Some might not have been able to run away, and honestly I can imagine few things that are worse than being stuck in that kind of prison.

Remember my earlier note about being seen as a servant? Yea - that was very confirmed. The Ex tried to contact me and give me orders all through that week - talking to me like I wasn’t even a human being. There were demands and orders and things I HAD to do, things I HAD to pay, etc etc. I was insulted, compared to abusers (ironically), and overall treated like I was a mere object and possession. I called them out on it and politely told them to stop using such a derogatory tone and treat me with some form of basic human respect. The excuse for that attitude was that “Well you don’t understand simple commands unless I say them in this way. Grow up. Respect is earned”

There was still the problem of moving my things out of the apartment, but through many calls, texts and the effort of both my friends and my family, I had help both economically and physically to move all my stuff out. We had been promised that the apartment would be clean and ready to be packed and moved, so to speak, as she was going to “switch back” to the smaller apartment.

However when we arrived it was......... I don’t even know how to describe how nasty it was. Unwashed dishes (MY dishes), rotten food and trash, dirty floors, dirty laundry and it was damn near impossible to move around in there. Luckily they weren’t there when we arrived, but I had my key, AND we had been in contact with the couple we had switched apartments with, who were now supposed to move into that... mountain of garbage. They had apparently also been lied to and used while I was away in Denmark.

When They - the ex - finally came, they threw a fit, and I literally nearly attacked them. Not because they were there, per se, but because they threatened my mother. They treated my mom just like they had that day, they were threatening and downgrading and kept telling my own mother that I was “A worthless excuse for a human being, and I honestly can’t imagine anything more nasty than your daughter”

This is where my mother grew in my eyes. If I ever doubted that my mother loves me, or is proud of me, it changed in that very moment. Because I got to see my mother - my daint little ladylike mother - stand up to my abuser and command the entire fucking room.

“You can think whatever you want, but there is nothing in this world I’m more proud of than my daughter, so take that attitude, stick it somewhere, and get out of my face so we can pack our stuff and finally get you out of our lives”

Let me tell you, those hours of packing were long. All the while, we had my abuser going around and at every possible moment they insulted me. Thanks to mom’s outburst earlier however, my hate for Them simmered down to a cool form of disgust, so I didn’t take any form of provocation from them. Not even when they sat next to me and just spewed insult after insult.

“What’s wrong with you?” “Dunno” “Like seriously - what’s wrong with you” “Dunno” “There has to be something cause you’re so pathetic that I almost feel pity for you” “Mhm. So this box of things is mine right?”

It pissed them off quite a lot. There was also a real threat from our side that if they escalated things or kept being threatening, we WOULD call the police. Let me tell you, there were some close calls - Especially when they dropped a box full of stuff on my mom’s back.

But then we could leave. We were done. I blocked them on my phone and I will never look back.

---

That................. Became a longer post than even I expected honestly.

But after all that - How am I doing now?

So. Much. Better.

Not only has my relationship with my mother improved, not only am I free to live my life and by my own rules, but I have also come to the genuine realization that I’m not single because I am not worthy of love, but because I’m WORTH waiting for something good. Until that comes along however, if it ever does, I’m WORTH being happy and living my life for ME!

I live in a room in my aunt’s place, and honestly it’s so damn cozy? It’s cheap and worth it, I feel safe, there are cats, my cousins are here sometimes and honestly my aunt and I get along great!

The only remaining issue is that of Hanzo, which I’m looking into more properly, ergo “Will I need a lawyer? Is my case strong enough?” - Not to have him live with me, but to have him live with someone who can afford bringing him to the vet, buy him food, and NOT having him live in a filthy home with rotting trash and food everywhere.

Overall I like to look at this experience like a REALLY nasty bout of having to clean out the shower drain.

Cleaning the shower drain is nasty, and it doesn’t matter how many layers of protection you wear - It’s still gross. It smells, and the filth can be hard to get rid of, especially if it’s sewage that’s been stuck for a bit and had time to grow. Even when the procedure is done and the clog has been flushed down the toilet, one feels rather nasty and grimy and as though one will never be clean. But ALAS! After a shower, or twelve, that nasty feeling is gone and now that the drain has been cleaned, the water flows freely - clean - and natural. And everything feels so much better.

My abuser is that clog, but they have been flushed away - Cleaned up, the water flows freely, and I feel like a new person.

I haven’t even taken my anti-depressants for a couple of days and felt NOTHING!

---

TL;DR: Even though this was my second abusive relationship, I’m safe and happy now. I love living - I love breathing - I love studying!

Even though flashbacks might occassionally haunt me - Even though words will occassionally come back to sting - I will not let them stop me in my life.

Thank you for reading <3 I’m done now <3 I promise

#personal #tw: abuse #tw: physical abuse #tw: mental abuse #tw: mental illness #tw: threat of suicide #tw: threat of self harm #tw: abusive relationship

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theartificialdane · 6 years

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Paris AU: I’m watching it burn

4+ pages of gooey hurt/comfort (though, let’s be real, mostly hurt) for my darling @imanationalphenomenon with a special dedicated to @talkaboutartassholes because Vitan finally talks.

“Fuck you!” “Violet-“ “No!”

“I’m home!” Violet closed the door behind her, bending down to unclick Asta and Noora, the two pugs happily running into the townhouse as Violet stepped out of her shoes and hung up her jacket, her cheeks red with the chill autumn air of New York. It had been a long day at work, but she was finally home, her atelie bursting with activity and Violet felt like she could barely keep up, her time split between trying to admin what had grown into a company and doing what she loved which was create. Unfortunately there had been less and less time to create lately, everything piling on top of each other faster than Violet could keep up.

“Sutan?”

Melati was gone for the week with her high school, their daughter almost begging to get out of the class trip to Europe, but for once Sutan had stood firm in front of their teenager and told her that Melati had to go, that it was good for her to spend time with her new classmates. Of course they had ended up on a compromise, Melati spending a long weekend in Paris afterwards, staying with old friends, but Violet couldn’t feel anything but joy for the fact that their daughter got to return to her home country, even if it was only for a few days.

“In the kitchen!”

Violet took her mail from the small table in their hallway, flipping through invitations to events. It had been ignored for way too long. She walked into the kitchen, the soft sounds of jazz and warmth greeting her, her husband standing at the stove, Sutan wearing a black turtleneck sweater with his sleeves rolled up and an apron, a pot of pasta boling.

“Hi.” Violet turned her head up, kissing her husband, Sutan smiling as he stirred the sauce. “It smells nice.”

“Tastes nice too.” Sutan grabbed a teaspoon, holding it to Violet’s lips, Violet tasting the perfectly spice sauce.

“Mmh. Very nice.” Violet sat down at the table, Sutan tapping along to the music, the invitations mostly just boring stuff she had no interested in participating in, even though each one got opened and read fully, her time as an assistant still in her, just in case she missed something.

“What are you doing wednesday for lunch?”

“Me?” Violet looked up. Sutan was standing with his phone, his glasses on his nose like he has just finished reading something before he pushed them back into his hair.

“Hmm. I’m not sure, why?”

“I have someone you should meet.”

“Oh?” Sutan didn’t often introduce her to people, or at least not anymore, Violet’s years in fashion meaning she knew her way around. “And who is this mystery person?”

“A business consultant.” Sutan uncrooked a bottle of wine, pouring a little in the sauce, as well as two glasses, the man walking over to his wife who took the glass, the two clicking their glasses.

“Okay?”

“Fame recommended him.”

“And I should meet him because-?“ Violet took a sip of her wine, the red slightly bitter on her tongue, but it was nice to have time to do adult things, to just spend time with her husband without friends or dogs or their daughter or work around. Just the two of them, enjoying a glass of wine and if Violet had anything to say about it, taking a turn between the sheets later, a whole new set of lingerie under her dress.

“I think your atelie needs it.”

“You think my atelie needs a business consultant?” Violet looked at her husband, her chest tight with surprise. They normally never discussed her business, her atelie and the work she did there something Sutan happily kept his nose out of, or apparently not so happily. “And that’s something you discussed with Fame?”

“In passing. With all the attention you have been getting lately, it seemed like a natural step.”

Violet bit her lip. What Sutan said was true, her atelie starting when they moved to America about three years ago, but it was her project, something she did to keep busy and to keep her mind straight, and yes the number of clients she was taking was growing, the assistant she had employed to keep track of what she was doing then getting more and more on her plate, but that wasn’t any reason to-

“So are you?”

Violet was startled from her thoughts. “Am I what?”

“Free? On wednesday. I really think you should meet with him. He’s very good at what he does. Better now than later, right? I mean, Vogue has expressed interesting in doing an actual full spread with you, and that should be managed right before the attention boom comes in. Fame also mentioned a media manager she has enjoyed working with, but I think we should start with the business side of thing-“

“And you asked Fame about all of that without telling me?”

“We both had time for coffee two days ago.”

Violet felt a sour taste in her mouth, the idea of her husband and former boss talking about her like that didn’t feel right at all. Not at all.

“You’re discussing my personal business with someone over coffee without my consent or knowledge?”

“I discussed something with a friend I care for and respect.” Sutan put his glass down, the man watching Violet’s face, like he was looking for something. “Fame is someone who has managed to build a brand,I think you should be grateful for her help.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

Violet stood up, quickly walking to the sink for any excuse to get up, throwing away the invitation she had no interest in, her back to her husband, the music that was like a smooth caress early now feeling like barbed wire.

“Violet, come on. Your business is growing. I mean, it’s Vogue. You can’t just do whatever you want anymore. If you ever want to be taken seriously by the industri you should-“

“Stop.”

“... What?”

Violet turned around, Sutan looking at her with disbelief in his face, and if Violet was honest, she couldn’t remember the last time she had so clearly told him no, the two of them so rarely fighting, this the closest they had got to raising their voices since moving to New York, unless arguing over what bathroom tile to choose counted.

“I’m sorry, let’s just eat. You worked hard on the food and-”

“So you’re not even going to try meeting the man I put time and effort into finding for you?”

Violet felt a stab of annoyance, her husband not taking the out she was giving him but instead digging his heels in even deeper. “I didn’t ask you to arrange anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” Sutan walked over, turning off the stove, Violet finally thinking it was over, but then he turned towards her. “Violet, I know you don’t like asking for help, but I’m your husband and I really think you should take this chance to-“

“No.”

“No?”

“You have no right to interfere with my work life!”

“I just want what’s best for you!” Rage welled up in Violet’s chest. “Well guess what? You don’t /get/ to decide what’s best for me! I do!” “Hey, hey, calm down, I didn’t mean-” Sutan reached out, gently touching Violet’s arms, his hands closing around them. “I just- Urh. Listen to me. Please. I know you don’t want to think about this, but trust me, you have so much potential to grow, and to do that right you need the right people.”

“I don’t want to grow.”

“Darling, you can’t keep a flower from blooming just because you’re afraid. I know you never planned to be anyones boss, but your company is growing and you can’t do that alone. Think of your career-” “Exactly Sutan. /My/ career, mine!” Violet pulled back, her husband realising her immediately and Violet almost wanted to step inside his arms instead, to not do this. “It’s okay to be scared, but if you just meet with him you’ll see he’s not that bad. I know how these things go Violet, just- Trust that I know more about this than you, and trust my advice-”

And there it was. “Fuck you!” “Violet-“ “No!” Violet could feel her anger snowballing, the words welling up inside of her like a volcano ready to explode. How dared he think he knew more than her just because he was older, just because he worked with models. He knew nothing about her work, and in this, he knew nothing about her. She liked her team, liked that it was small, liked that she only made what she wanted to make, and yes she dreamed of Paris and couture week but that was none of his fucking business.

“Fuck you! It’s /my/ company!” “You don’t have a company!” It was a blessing that Melati wasn’t home, Violet burning in a way she only did with her husband, her throat not closing up, no tears trying to press their way out. She was drowning, but in control, their years together teaching her that she was safe, even if all she wanted to do was fling a cartload of shit at her husband. “How dare you, I’m great at my job! I know what I’m-” “You’re an amazing designer, but a CEO you are not. Violet, please, you have more talent in your pinky than most designers can dream of achieving in a lifetime, but your atelie is a disaster waiting to happen, everyone agree.”

“... Everyone? Everyone who?”

“I might have discussed this with Raja and Bianca as well. Darling, you have no business plan, no real marketing strategy, no media managers or customer service-” “My clothes speak for themself!” “Because you /won’t/!”

Violet felt like she had been slapped.

“You’re killing yourself with the stress of trying to be someone you’re not. Violet, you could be so much more, you could- You’re so talented, and you need someone to manage your options who’s more than just an assistant.” Sutan wiped his hands in his apron, clearly beyond frustrated. “You need a team, and I have to insist you meet with-” “Fuck you.” Violet didn’t even recognise her own voice, the words coming from her loud and clear, dripping in venom.

“Fuck you.”

#paris au #paris fics

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michaelskinkyshit · 5 years

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https://www.reddit.com/r/BDSMcommunity/comments/4vsqxz/extreme_dirty_talking_and_you_a_guide_v30/

One day...

It struck me just how much I enjoyed talking dirty. It wasn't enough to just describe what I was going to do, or listen to how great I was, I wanted things to get extraordinarily nasty. Honestly, subs who can please me on this front have been few and far between and I believe it is the responsibility of the top/dominant/sir/ma'am/domme/daddy/mommy/master/whatever to educate and train (at appropriate times).

For this 'lesson' I'm going to use a less dominant voice; I’ll write so that if you don't like my kind of dirty talk, the advice given will still be applicable, as well as applicable to both top and bottom roles.

From previous partners (both vanilla and kinky) I've enjoyed hearing about everything from random thoughts ('There was a cute guy on the train to work today and I wanted to lift my skirt up and tell him he should use my ass in front of everyone') to deeper desires that we would never do ( 'I'm so nasty I want you to watch dogs use me.' (for the record, I'm not into zoophilia, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't find that previous statement hot as hell). I love hearing about how my partner has had X sexual partners, and how I'm number Y, and she enjoys me the best. The best dirty talkers find a way to spin their words so they aren’t lying and can still justify saying ‘you’re the best, my favorite’ et cetera.

When it comes to dirty talk: don't restrict yourself or second guess what is valid; sharing is caring, experience is the greatest teacher, knowledge is power.

But, why dirty talk?

If I boil it down it goes like this: two parts. Part one: this kind of dirty talk serves the ego. And it does it in two ways. First, it lets me know what an amazing Dominant I am. Second, you saying these things is 'slutty' and 'dirty.' Now, not only am I an amazing Dominant, but this slutty girl (slutty implies high-experience and demanding libido, things that other males value) not only wants/desires/needs me, but chose (choice being sexier than force or coercion) me to be her Dominant.

Second: it clarifies things. If we’re playing that means I trust you, the words coming out of your mouth give me information that I accept and boom, I know more about you, furthering the connection, and my arousal.

Also, people are perverts, and so when perverts find each other it should be a celebration! Share, share, share. It lets us perverts know we aren’t alone in the world. When you confess to anyone that you have similar thoughts about fucking those random people you see, or that watching Star Trek gave you an idea for an amazing porno, it turns people on! Things like that bring us together through common ground, that we can then fuck on. On top of not feeling alone, mutual understanding is incredibly erotic, as I somewhat mentioned before.

Now my brand of dirty talk is all about degrading and humiliating my bottom, not in the sense of making her dumber or embarrassed, but in the name of legitimizing her alleged 'slut nature.' My goal is to take that allegation and turn it into a fact, a reality, that we can prance and frolic around until there are no more bodily fluids left. Think of dirty talk as a verbal certificate of proof.

We’ve covered my personal interest, and my ideas of general interest. Now we come to the actual how to section of this guide. It’s broken up into two parts. The first are the four rules, start with number 1 and once you feel you’ve mastered and taken all you can from it, work your way down the list.

Rule No. 1: Say Anything

We all have to start somewhere whether it’s ‘that feels good,’ ‘fuck me,’ or ‘use this filthy fuck slut!’ you’ve gotta have a base of what to say. Think about this, write things down you can say, find porn where there is a lot of dirty talk (I’d recommend stuff with Jenna Haze if you’re a girl, and for a guy... James Dean is pretty good) and copy them.

Now that you have this: practice! My favorite time is either when I’m masturbating, in the shower, or masturbating in the shower. Any thoughts of ‘I’m an idiot talking to myself’ that come up, ignore them. Focus on your end result, your goal: you want to be better at talking dirty, this is how you do it. Who cares how you get it? Just get it.

Another train of thought to follow is Dan Savage's gonna do, doing, did.

1) Say what you're gonna do (I'm gonna fuck you!) 2) Say what you're doing (I'm fucking you so hard!) 3) Say what you did (I fucked you so hard!)

Rule No. 2: Repeat

Now that you have some ground work (or maybe you are working off your partner who already has) it’s time to make things stupid-easy. Just repeat the premise of whatever they said. Do this until you feel you’ve mastered it, but it will seriously help you up your game, as well as not have to devote a ton of mind power to constantly being fresh which is hard for beginners.

An example for subs

I say to my sub: 'Are you a stupid fucking slut?'

her answer:

'I'm a stupid fucking slut.'

If you’re a dom and your sub says:

‘I love fucking your cock, sir.’

You respond:

‘I know you love fucking my cock, slut.’

For dominants repeating, I’d recommend providing whatever variation you can on it, at the end of the day, you do you.

Rule No. 3: Escalate

You’ve got a base, you have repetition in your tool box so you can use that when you need to. Now it’s time for escalation. You want dirty talk to go to eleven. This is hopefully as easy as the repetition, and can be combined as well. Using the example from repetition, I say to my sub:

'Are you a stupid fucking slut?'

her response:

'I'm the stupidest, dirtiest slut you've fucked.'

Escalation doesn't have to be exact. Now, the dom example:

I love fucking your cock, sir’

The dom’s response

You live to fuck my cock, slut, you need it every day!’

Rule No. 4: Variation

Try not to, though we all have favorites, repeat too much. Don't use a word or phrase over and over and over and... well, you get it. Variety is the spice of life and also the spice of extreme dirty talk. That said, we have favorites. For me it’s the title slut, and the modifier little. Switching things up, weaving in and out, creates a symphony. I don’t think many people want to hear the same key on a piano played over and over.

Rule No. 5: Creativity

By now you've gotten into the swing of things and no longer need your partner to guide you or give you something to repeat.

Time to get creative, step outside your box (vagina joke) and see what you come up with. Go back to those pornos or sit down with your partner. Real talk: you're probably going to spit some shit that sounds pretty crazy, but honestly sometimes that's the best shit to spit. The whole dog thing is pretty extreme--and was shocking--but I totally dug it.

Creative wise, or even just building basic dirty talk, you'll want to start with these categories.

Confess:

Revealing a secret, whether it be one from the past, or present. Or just making a blanket statement is cool too.

Sub Example:

See the whole guy-on-the-train example from earlier as a confession, or this basic statement: 'This stupid slut needs your cum in her filthy holes.'

Dom example:

‘I’ve wanted to use you all day, little slut.’

It’s a simple statement, but you’re still confessing something. Confessions don’t have to be big or grandiose.

Request:

Beg, plead, desperately (or confidently) request something.

Sub Example:

'Please, please, please, I need your dick in me. I don't care which hole, just use me like the filthy dumb cum dump I am.'

Dom Example:

‘Now, will you please get on your knees like a good girl, bend over and show me those fuck holes.’

Demand:

The opposite of requesting, but equally as exciting.

Sub Example:

'You better fuck me like the nasty whore I am.'

Dom Example:

‘Take my cock down your throat right now, slut!’

Compliment:

Who don't love themselves some compliment?

Sub Example:

'I fucked all the guys at school but I like you the best.'

Dom Example:

‘You have such a perfect little ass, and I love the way it serves me.’

Worship:

This is, to an extent, just an extreme version of compliment. Worship is defined as:

the feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for a deity

Try and take that on when you worship, appreciate that person as a goddess/god.

Reluctance:

Something I recently discovered and really turns me on.

Sub Example:

'please don’t tell anyone what a slut I am.’ ‘Why is this making me so wet?’

Dom Example:

‘I shouldn’t be fucking you, but you’re such a slut...’

They meld a bit with requests, confessions, et cetera, but that’s okay. Combine and see what you get. (Credit to u/01291987 for sub examples)

Resistance

This can be sarcasm, or playful banter, or flat out resistance as a means of escalation. I personally don't enjoy this in my dirty talk, but if you enjoy playing with or as a brat, this is a major piece.

One thing I enjoy in my dirty talk is having my sub speak from the third person. 'This slut, your fuck-toy, cock-toy, she, her, it.' Sometimes she'll use her title: 'Slut wants to have sex. Will you please give cum-pig your cock?' But, even if it's 'Mmm, Jane is such a nasty cock toy' I still go crazy. This is due to objectification, which I find to be a huge turn on. Doing this all the time can be a bit old, but 50 to 70 percent of the time, that seems to be the golden ratio.

Never take action out of fear, and never avoid taking action out of fear. Brain storm with friends, use word games. Creativity is kind of strange in that it can come at strange times. Don't judge yourself for being weird. Jump in, or take baby steps, whatever works for you.

And like everything in life, if you want to get better at something: practice.

All the best!

Edited for formatting, added Dan Savage's sage advice, spelling cause grammar hard...

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nerdy-flower · 6 years

Text

@sinunamor IT IS WRITTEN

Sorry for the heckin long wait ;^; here it is! Ernest Growing Up Part 3/3! (For now~)

(Ernest curses a lot and it’s a little sad at the beginning, otherwise it’s G)

It isn't working.

In spite of everything, Ernest came out of college doing kind of okay. He had an alright resume, a little pocket of savings, some furniture. Better than some kids he sat next to at graduation, for sure. He gets that coveted first apartment to himself- literally a room and a bathroom. The water pressure is like a dog lifting its leg and peeing on him and the neighbours are obnoxious, but it was his. He was paying rent! Utilities! Insurance, even! Life was looking up! Was.

He stayed in the city he went to school in, With his Pop's new condo a half hour away, it didn't feel so far. They'd have dinner all the time. Pop would give him tips on places to go and things to see. At one point, he says he wouldn't have moved here if he didn't know Ernest was staying. Ernest didn't have a great answer for that, tongue sudden;y stuck. They get froyo anyway.

His shit job became two shit jobs and then one again, then two, then three very briefly, then one with occasional paid-in-cash online ads stuff. Maybe illegal? Only in a tax law way, so whatever. He busts his ass- well, some of the time. Sometimes he half-asses it and gets paid anyway, other times he gets fired, depends on the place. What it comes down to is that he never has enough money. All the Gen Z-targeted personal finance advice blogs are shit, too. “Get a roommate!” For where? The cupboard under his kitchen sink?

Actually, in his postal code, someone might take it. But they'd be just as broke as him.

Even now, he feels spoiled and pathetic. Plenty of people just had to make do, they didn't have a Dad to send cheques in the mail, a stepdad to order them groceries online, a Pop to full-on spot them rent money. He tries and tries to make it work and he /can't./

Finally, he picks up the phone. “Dad?”

“Ernest? What's the matter? Is everything-”

“Can I come home?” With his stuff, he means, with the furniture he can't use anymore and his rejected debit card and-

Hugo makes this little noise, a very parental click of concern that sticks right in his chest. “Of course, always.”

Lucien drives him because he's been working solely off his laptop and following Pablo around the East Coast. Ernest isn't a hundred percent on what he does, but it's enough to pay for a rental van and a premium streaming account so commercials don't interrupt their drawn-out silence on the way back North to Maple Bay.

“Do you need to be an asshole about this? I said I was sorry, okay? I'll pay you back as soon as I get money, /god./”

“All I asked,” Lucien drawls, smartass as always. “Is if you wanted me to buy you a bagel. So I'll just buy your least favourite one and we'll carry the fuck on, shall we?”

Ernest officially hates everything forever, but mostly himself.

Dad and Damien welcome them home with big, awkward hugs and lots of understanding when he wants to go to bed straightaway and they left his room the way it was and /fuck/-

Pics or it didn't happen, as the young adults say. If no one sees him crying and hugging his teddy in his mid-twenties, it never took place.

His dignity drops a few more points the next day when he has to beg and plead with his Dad not to tell Pop.

“What if he goes to your place and you're not there?” Hugo insists, hands soapy from washing the dishes. “He'll be so worried!”

“He always calls or texts first, always,” Ernest thrusts another dried plate into the cupboard and balls his fists together. “I'm not gonna pretend forever, honest. /Please/, Dad, just a few more days, that's all I'm asking. It's my thing to tell him, anyway!”

“Okay, okay,” Hugo holds his hands up in a peacemaking gesture. He tucks some overgrown hair behind his ear- shit, he's gone even more grey. His dads are going grey and he can't afford his own Netflips account. “I won't tell him, but if he calls and asks, I'm not going to lie. Alright?”

“Fair enough,” Ernest sighs through his nose, tucking the cutlery away in brooding silence. Goddammit, he's too old to brood. This sucks.

Hugo watches him a minute before draining the sink. “Have you heard from Carmensita? She's back in town, you two should meet for coffee or something. Get your mind off things.”

Ernest swings his head around, barely listening to the second half of the sentence. “She's back already? I know she was talking about it, but- yeah. I'll text her.”

He does, and they meet up, later that day because his schedule is open indefinitely. He waves to River and Crish, doing something with multiple types of sportsballs in the Cahn family driveway and thankfully too focused to do more than wave back. Carmensita comes strolling out of Mat's house in a flower-print romper and jogs up the sidewalk to him and he's never, ever been so happy to see someone.

Except that time he got lost at Disney World, but we don't talk about that.

“There's my favourite human!” Ernest laughs as she hops up to hug him. He insists he never got taller, she got shorter, but she still gives the greatest hugs. “No more braids, huh? That's a big change.”

Carmensita giggles and teases her fingers through her mohawk, her sides shaved down to thatches of brown fuzz. “I just got it done, do you like it? It's pretty different, for me at least.”

“I love it,” Ernest scratches one side of her undercut until she playfully bats his hand away. “Nah, it suits you. Makes you look cool and smart, like you're gonna mess somebody up but with your know-how instead of your fists.”

“Overly specific, but I'll take it.” Carmensita grins, a flash of snarky white and he feels like he can stand up straighter. They wave again at the over-active River on their way across the cul-de-sac, and 'Sita leans in to him, talking behind her hand. “You heard about Ashley and Mary, right?”

“Yeah, I sure did.” Ernest glances across the street, almost feeling eyes on him from Mary's house. Which used to be Julian's house, but then Julian and Damien talked and agreed to sell it to Mary shortly after her divorce so she could get out of Damien's spare bedroom and have enough space that custody would be a non-issue. Julian was totally cool with it, because he was practically moved in with Mat anyway and Amanda was fully settled into New York- “God, this neighbourhood is weird.”

“Something in the groundwater, I think,” Carmensita laughs, shaking her head. “Craig's the real deal though. He's legit totally cool with it. I was here in time for the first summer BBQ and I expected, y'know, some awkwardness.”

“Folks around here save all the awkwardness for their kids,” Ernest drawl to make her laugh again. It's nearly sticky outside, but he refuses to remove his sweater. He goes bare-armed for exactly two months a year, tans up real nice, and goes right back into his cotton cocoons of happiness. “So how's life n'stuff?”

“Life n'stuff is pretty good. I've got all my boxes unpacked in less than two months, so that's my record.” She slips off her glasses to polish them on her shirt. “I'll show you my place when we get there, I'm teaching piano lessons out of my living room right now, and- oh! You know what tonight is, right? Are you busy?”

Ernest shakes his head to both, he's been too depressed to check social media and he definitely isn't busy. “What's tonight?”

Carmensita grins wide and imitates an airhorn to punctuate her words. “Open mic night! Woo woo woo!”

It's a little different to watch from the audience with everyone else. The Cahn twins are working part-time at the Spoon now and they're the ones doing the backstage stuff. Lucien drives into town for it, Pablo's tour wrapping up with 'boring business shit' that he'd apparently rather skip. The three of them claim a corner table with high stools and enjoy the quirky parade.

His dad was right, it is nice to forget about his bullshit for a while. He recognizes kids he used to see racing around the playground strumming guitars and nervously messing up their lyrics. Back then he would have made fun of them, and maybe he does chuckle a little, but he gives them credit. He hasn't been on a stage in- oof, at least a year. Discounting karaoke, of course. He wonders what Disaster Master Quinn is up to these days.

The night ends, early enough for all the teens to go to bed, with a pretty tight Sunstroke Project cover on theramin. There is much clapping and whooping and thanking before everyone starts clearing out. Carmensita chugs the rest of her coffee, discreetly wiping her mouth on her sleeve. ��Alright, let's pay our tabs and head upstairs. Who's feeling Mario Party?”

“You know I am,” Lucien smirks as they gather their things. “None of the car ones though, I hate that shit.”

Ernest loses the thread of the conversation because there's a hiss of static in his ears. He can't pay his tab. His chequing account is a negative number and he can't remember if their register takes credit or not but that's not an option either. He's too broke. To pay for a goddamn /tea./ God, why does he only clue into shit when it's too late?

The thought of asking them to pay makes him wanna puke, so he performs the maneuver that saved him from many a terrible college party: the Irish Goodbye.

The crowd makes it easy to slip away. He lopes through the parking lot and heads into the undeveloped no-man's land behind the softball field. He shuts off his phone, which any rational instinct would encourage him not to do. He's gonna take the long, long way home and- then what? Isn't that just the biggest fucking question of his life- and then what, you witless idiot?

The static does not stop as he hurries through the warm summer air, eventually cutting across the street and walking down the bay. His pulse is really high for no friggin' reason and he probably couldn't type a text if he needed to- wait, is this a panic attack? No, come on. He's too old to get on any of his dads' benefits. He can't be doing this. He can't, he can't-

A car drives up slowly beside him, and he has a split-second of facing his death before the window rolls down to reveal two annoyed, very familiar faces. “You live in my Dad's house, what the hell was your long-term plan with this?”

“Look, I'm sorry, I couldn't pay and I-” Ernest rakes a hand through his hair, pulling on his scalp. “I'm sorry I'm such a fuck-up, okay? I shouldn't have come out tonight, I'm no good to be around right now.”

Carmensita runs her tongue over her bottom lip. “You ditched us over a four-ninety-seven tab?”

“I called it.”

She scowls, undoes her seatbelt, and clambers out of the passenger door, stomping around to his side. “Give me your face, right now. C'mere-”

Ernest hunches his shoulders so she can reach, mostly out of confusion. She takes his cheeks in her warm hands and paps them with each word, like she's trying to wake up a drunk guy in a movie. “We're not hanging out with your wallet! We want to hang out with /you,/ if you'll stop! Being! Such! A! Dumbass!”

“Can you stop smacking my face?”

“Maybe,” Carmensita drops her hands after two more, crossing her arms. “Seriously though, not cool. What's gotten into you?”

“Dude, I forgot that I couldn't afford to buy a bagel, like how fucked am I?” Ernest scrubs his face, palms burning with his need for a shave. “Everything's so messed up right now. I feel like a complete waste of space.”

“Again with this?” Lucien makes an irritated noise from the car, leaning out the window. “Like you're the only one who's ever been broke. How much money do you think I had after college?”

“Why do you think I'm living over my dad's shop?” Carmensita tilts her head at him. “I know you're upset, but you're not on your own, for god's sake. I would have bought you that bagel anyway, you didn't need to freak out.”

“Guhhhh,” Ernest pushes the heel of one palm against his eye. “I'm sorry I'm such an idiot. I can barely fuckin' think right now.”

“Do you wanna go home or do you wanna play video games with us?” Lucien asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “No judgment either way. But maybe decide quick, before some cops come by and get all up in our business.”

Ernest would really like to bury himself in all of his blankets but, in the interest of not continuing to screw up his personal relationships, he picks the right choice. “Video games, please.”

They collectively kick the CPU's ass at getting stars and Carmensita hugs him before he leaves, Lucien's taillights in the distance. “You're not a waste of space, okay? It'll get better, just don't let things get this bad again.”

He almost misses being the one to cheer her up. It's a shitty thing to miss, but at least he didn't go home feeling all squashed on the inside.

Ernest gets up the guts to call his Pop a few days later. He's totally cool about it, even though he sunk how much into that one room. Somehow that makes Ernest feel worse.

“Trust me, my credit in my early twenties was a /mess,/ I was really stupid with my money. It was bad. Like, scary bad. Your gramps flipped his lid when he saw my pile of bills on the table.”

“Mine's a mess too,” Ernest mumbles, knees folded up to his chest as he leans back against his headboard.

“Yeah, but it's more fixable than it looks. It'll just take time. If you owned a car or something that would be kinda rough, but hey, I turned it around, didn't I? Before I met your dad too, no way would he have dated pre-grad school me. Nuh-uh,” Pop laughs, a hiss-crack in his ear because he does this weird almost-silent laugh that Ernest makes fun of constantly. “Tell you what, I'll pay off your card so you're not getting those assholes calling you every day. Then you can focus on finding a job, I heard they have a youth program you'd still-”

“I'm sorry,” Ernest manages to wobble out, a big lump in his throat as the tears burn.

“What?” Pop's voice turns all anxious and concerned, which hurts even worse. “Hey, kiddo, it's alright. You don't have to be sorry. I know you were trying your best, it's really tough when you're starting out alone-”

“I'm so sorry,” Ernest hiccups, covering his face with his hand as he snots. “I can't pay you back and I probably never will and I'm gonna have to put Dad in a nursing home with cockroaches because they just slashed teacher pensions again and everything is so fucked /forever./”

“Ernest, Ernest, listen to me,” Pop's voice strains against the weak receiver of his phone. “Nothing is fucked, okay? No one's mad at you. We'll fix this, I promise. Ernest?”

It's a rough month, for sure. Pop comes to visit. Him and Dad have been really good at not-bitching-at-each-other since he crossed that adulthood threshold. Maybe it was child support that made them fight after all. Pop used to get these little digs into dad, telling him to quit and go into something with a future. Maybe him and money are just cursed or something.

He loses it again when they hug him at the same time. He's only gotten those at graduations and he's all out of those now. “We would do anything and everything for you, do you hear me?” Dad is halfway out of his lawn chair, the three of them on the back porch, having borrowed a little barbecue from Brian. “I'd rather have you here than starving in some apartment somewhere. Everything's going to be fine, mijo. I promise.”

“I'll bring you down for a visit whenever you want.” Pop assures him as he's leaving, hugging him again. It's so weird that he's taller than him now. “If you want to move, I'll help. But honestly, you might be better off here for a bit. Rent is going crazy in the city and it's not worth it.”

“How does a couple hours' drive make such a huge difference?” Ernest sniffs, shuffling in the driveway.

“I mean, I could explain but it's really boring.” He smiles and ruffles his hair. “You'll be alright, kiddo. Don't worry so much, okay?” Easier said than done, but it's well-meant. He accepts it.

He does qualify for extra help at the employment place, but unfortunately he has a humanities degree, which means no marketable skills. Which means part-time at the small bougie grocery store downtown, which is in fact a hell of a lot better than nothing.

“Excuse me.” An older woman clutching a plastic handbag strolls up to him while he's stocking shelves. “Do you have any of those sweet honey mustards?”

“No ma'am, sorry. We ran out.”

She narrows her beady eyes at him. “Why?”

Most of the time.

Carmensita's doing pretty well for herself between the Coffee Spoon and her piano lessons. Not move-into-her-own-place good, but she's got a nice little loft space over the shop. Sick prints up all over the walls, those fairy lights she's always liked, her keyboard set up beside her computer desk all tidy for when the kids come by. Ernest spends his off-hours googling potential side-hustles and making music for the first time in a while.

“-Practically everybody's stressed, yes!” Ernest snaps his fingers with one hand and runs his beats with the other. “But they press through the mess, bounce cheques, and wonder what's next!”

“In the heights! I buy my coffee and I go,” Carmensita sings clear as anything, laying into her keys. “Set my sights on only what I need to know...”

“Girl, how'd you get so good at that? Damn,” Ernest shakes his head after they stop recording. “It's like Mandy Gonzalez was right here.”

“Vocal coaching, son!” Carmensita grins, sticking out her thumb and pinky finger and twisting her wrist. “Taught me how to sing from the diaphraaaaaaagm.”

Ernest cracks up at the low note she hits, spinning around in her chair and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. “Hey, do you ever feel bad for being happy? Like, you're not supposed to be, or something?”

“Hell yeah, all the time,” Carmensita stretches, laying out on her secondhand piano bench and popping her back. “Like if I'm having a good day I get thinking, 'oh but if I was at X point, I could be doing Y.' I think I'm scared I'll get complacent or something.”

“Yeah,” Ernest sits up, catching his feet on the carpet. “But like, I don't know how long our whole generation's gonna be stuck like this. So if we can't enjoy this...”

“Oof, heavy stuff.” Carmensita swats at the bag of mini Oreos until he passes it to her, grabbing a handful himself. “This isn't so bad though. Who knows, maybe we'll look back with nostalgia goggles and miss it.”

“Yeah.” He settles back in the chair, toying with the music program on his aging laptop. “Maybe.”

Carmensita sits up, tugging her off-the-shoulder t-shirt back down where it had ridden up on her belly. “Wanna eat pot brownies and watch Bebop again?”

Ernest scoffs. “Is that even a question?”

By the time Pablo and Lucien come down for Thanksgiving Part One (there's always cliffhanger holidays with divorced parents, but it's not so bad anymore, it's just a part of it), his life has a routine. He's too grown to resent 'being another cog in the machine' in any significant way. Predictable income and free time is a blessing and a half and he's not giving it up unless he works his way up to something real good. Which will take time, and energy, and so, so much luck.

But right now he's got a favourite lunch and does his share of the chores (cleaning Damien's weird house only seems daunting, it just takes a lot of furniture polish and a big-ass feather duster). He sees his Pop as often as he can with him jetting all over the continent, texting when they're in different time zones and laughing about stupid coworker stories (his Pop's are more maddening, apparently higher salaries don't strain out the truly incompetent, somehow that's comforting, too).

He can pay for Coffee Spoon bagels now, coming to Carmensita's aid during lulls in her shifts. Both their schedules are pretty regular, so they exchange barely a message or two before coming to see each other at certain points in the week. With what pocket money they do have, they get concert tickets once or twice, go ice skating, and buy fries at the mall, wandering around the stores after dark and trying to pick out new versions of themselves. Mostly they just go home with small things they don't need and pricey chocolate bars they split. When she gets wicked cramps, he hits her up with aspirin and movies they've seen ten times. When he can't get out of bed, she sends him memes and cute dog videos.

Dad and Damien are gross as per usual, but they're also way less nosy than they used to be. It's weird to just take off for the day or night without any further questions. Though coming back is a different story.

“I got your text,” Hugo leans out of the study (yes, they have one, of course they do) when he hears Ernest's sock feet shuffling up the hallway. “What happened?”

“I don't know,” Ernest shrugs, unbuttoning his uniform shirt. “A sewer main burst while they were working on the parking lot. The fire department scooted everyone out of there pretty quick, it smelled awful. I had better get paid for the full shift.”

“You have a right to, you weren't the one driving the backhoe.” His dad grins, re-shelving a book before shutting the door. “On the bright side, unexpected free time is always a bonus.”

“It sure is, and I'm gonna use it to take a well-deserved nap.”

“Oh.” A beat while he fixes his expression. “Okay, I'll record that documentary for you.”

Ernest turns, hand on the ornate doorframe. “Is that on today?” Hugo's eager nod goes right between his ribs and he smiles. “Nah, I'll watch it with you. Naps mess up my sleep schedule anyway, make me all cranky in the morning.”

“As opposed to any other morning?”

“Rude,” he snorts while his dad chuckles. “I'll be down in a minute, okay? Just gotta get changed and stuff.”

“Okay.” Not five minutes into changing and checking his email, he gets a text.

HV: You want to order in for dinner? Two-for-one at the pizza place

HV: We can get those chicken bite things, I have a coupon :)

Ernest laughs, oddly reminded of coming home to Duchess after high school sleepovers. He sends a quick 'sure dad,' and takes some of his recycling down. They spend the evening in their boxers on the couch in the den, three of the four hairless cats Damien had adopted when they came through the shelter (he didn't last long post-Duchess once he had a taste of pet ownership) snuggled up beside and on top of them. It's not their first or last night spent this way.

He does quietly scream to the heavens at the mere suggestion of a girlfriend. “I'm a cashier- oh, sorry, 'customer service associate.' All I've got to offer someone right now is pocket lint and my winning personality.”

“But that is precisely what you should be offering in a relationship!” Damien insists, winding black tinsel up the staircase while Ernest does the same on the other side. “If wealth was a prerequisite, only the rich would fall in love.”

“I don't need to be rich, but I do need a little something to put in my dating profile, you know?” He's already down a few pegs courtesy of his 'no sex for me please' sexuality, but he won't bring that up now. Tis the season, and all that.

“You have much to include! You are in possession of many fine qualities,” Damien smiles at him, looking less vampire and more nerd with his hair up in a bun and his glasses on. His outfit is like Dickens and Mary Shelley had a weird baby, though. “Your father and I just think it would be nice if you had someone special in your life, that's all. We're not pressuring you to bring someone home for the holidays.”

“Well, that's appreciated,” Ernest ties off the tinsel, zipping up his hoodie again. What did thermostats ever do to fathers, anyway? “I'm just kind focusing on me right now. I'll get in a relationship when I'm in a better spot.”

“Ah, that is fair,” Damien grabs another handful of tinsel for the top banisters. “But love can happen upon you when you least expect it. Such was the case for me both times.”

Ernest had never decided if Damien getting sappy about his dead husband or his very-alive husband who is also Ernest's dad was worse, they might tie for first place.

EHV: Plz never let me become this gross n sentimental when I'm old plz

LB: You cry at Hamilton now and you've seen it so many fing times

EHV: ELIZA DESERVED BETTER GDI DON'T START W ME

CS: I WILL CRY AT ITS QUIET UPTOWN UNTIL THE DAY I DIE FIGHT ME SCRUB

EHV: YEAH THAT'S RIGHT

LB: Oh ffs I forgot this was the groupchat

Speaking of awkward sad times, this year's holidays are busy and bright and not as rushed as last year where he could barely visit anyone for more than a couple hours, but the same anniversary comes around. He's celebrating a third Christmas up at Damien's parents place over New Year's weekend, laughing it up while everyone is maybe too drunk, but he has a sixth sense when that text buzzes in.

CS: I wish missing someone didn't hurt so much :(

EHV: I know <3

CS: Dad's sad, but he's got Julian now

CS: I'm just by myself up in my old room, they're asleep already

EHV: Aw, shit. Do you want me to call you?

CS: No, you're with family. I'm fine

EHV: Everyone is tipsy and Dad is losing at trivial pursuit

CS: Okay then yes please <3

He makes his first appearance at open mic night in the cold and crisp new year. One technical glitch makes him nearly piss himself but it otherwise goes okay. Carmensita sings right after him, her dad on guitar and it's so frickin' good.

“God, you guys are so cool,” he says afterwards, spinning a bottle of Windex around his finger and taking Wild West-style aim at the glass in front of the baked goods.

“Glad I've still got it,” Mat grins, going back to counting the money. “You should do more of these, everyone was super into it. There's another place that does really good open mics out in the boonies, it's a cafe-arthouse thing.”

“You think so?” Ernest had immediately repressed all memory of his performance upon leaving the stage, it was a good coping technique.

“We should start a YouWatch channel!” Carmensita exclaims, as if for the first time, though she's been bugging him for weeks. “We'll do covers to get the subs, then post our own stuff! I bet we could get sponsors!”

“Mister Sella,” Ernest says very seriously. “Are you aware that your daughter is selling out to the man?”

'Sita hits him with a broom, but he does decide to take the leap. Not like starting a channel takes a lot of upfront capital investment, exactly. They do pool money for one good mic, and figure they'll work their way up if it turns out to be worth it. They pick songs from their early teens to indulge their own and others' guilty pleasure fix, and they do weird remixes of things that aren't songs, and he convinces Carmensita to do tag videos. It's fun, and some people like it. Not a ton, but hey, maybe someday.

They only complain on days they're not recording, not wanting to wreck their voices. This time they're slumped on Ernest's bed, him whinging continuously after his first attempt at online dating ended in utter failure, therefore he should give up and never try again, right? Less money on dating, more money to eventually adopt dogs?

“Ernest, I want you to try something.” Carmensita reaches over and covers his eyes, her voice only a little exasperated. “Envision what you want in a relationship. Dad taught me this, I used it to figure out where I wanted to go for college.”

“Okay. Does it work, or is it some hokey bullshit?”

“Quit being rude and humour me, dammit.”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, feeling her well-manicured thumb jab his cheek. He wets his lips while he thinks for a moment. “Uh, I wanna be with someone who's funny and nice, fun to be around.”

“Okay, can we get a little more depth than that?”

“Give me a second here, woman,” he snorts. “I want- someone who's chill, who likes some of the stuff I like- not everything, but we gotta have stuff to do together, you know?” Carmensita hums. “I want- I really want someone I can build a future with. I don't wanna just play around, y'know? I want someone responsible- heh, maybe not too responsible. But someone I can trust, someone I can see myself having kids with.”

“Woah, you want kids-plural now?”

“Well not a whole bunch, but two would be nice. They can play with each other- anyway,” Ernest gulps, strangely caught up in the thought process. “I want someone who when I look at her- I just want all the good stuff in the world for her. She's going places and she's talented- I want someone who I really get, who gets me back. When people talk about marrying their best friend, that's- that's what I want. Someone who- accepts me, and we can be ourselves around each other, always.”

They're quiet a moment, Carmensita's hand still on his face. She takes it away slowly and smiles softly. “So, you want what you have with me, but with kissing?”

Ernest blanks for a solid thirty seconds before raising his finger. “Okay, first of all, when did you get so smooth?”

Carmensita laughs, loud and cute, sweeping some loose curls off her forehead and looking at him with these eyes- he's never seen her look at him like that until now. Or maybe he was just that clueless. “Is that really all you want to ask me?”

Ernest swallows, loud enough to hear it, sitting up a little straighter. “Can I- kiss you?”

“I don't know, can you?”

He groans outright, dropping his head on her shoulder while she giggles. “One of these days, 'Sita, one of these days.”

She smells really nice this close, maybe it's her shampoo? It's damn good, whatever it is. Her hands end up on his shoulders, not pressing, just holding him. He lifts his head and god, that little moment of eye contact before they both lean forward-

First kisses are not usually perfect, but he's willing to call this one close enough. She's warm and soft beneath his lips. His arms slip around her waist and it's like she was made to fit against him. He outright sighs when they part, kissing her nose just to hear her laugh again.

“Are you-” He can't quite find his words right now, his mind cycling through all the new and so very nice stimuli his senses are taking in. Carmensita's always been beautiful to him but he never thought, never let himself- “Do you- are you sure you wanna do this? I can't- I really like you, but I don't think I'll ever be able to do the physical stuff. You deserve-”

She presses a finger to his lips and he silences himself immediately, distracted by the light of her eyes. “There's nothing I want that online shopping with discreet shipping can't provide. None of that 'you deserve better' crap. I want you, if you want me back, then we should keep kissing and see where it takes us.”

Ernest works his jaw for a few moments, then nods. “Yeah, I can get behind that train of thought.”

Carmensita's laugh as he pulls her in for more smooches is the sweetest sound he's ever heard.

They end up cuddling up and falling asleep together- hahaha an asexual sleeping with someone on the first date, hahaha, puns and stuff -a bonus of neither of them having morning shifts the next day and Carmensita not having anyone expecting her back at home. He wakes up before she does, spooned up behind her, all their clothes rumpled, the blankets cocooned around them. He kisses the nape of her neck and sighs. He feels content, for the first time in a while.

The softest of knocks precedes the door creaking open. “Hey, Ernest, do you want- /oh/.”

The door shuts quickly, rousing Carmensita and making Ernest groan. “So much for keeping quiet about it.”

“Were we going to?” She yawns, sitting up and stretching. “Also, I'm bringing my silk pillowcases or we're only sleeping at my place. How do you live like this?”

“I dunno, I'm a mess.” He laughs and sits up, a tentative hand on her back. “I just- I'm scared. We've been friends for so long, I don't want to risk it going badly.”

“But if we don't risk it going badly, we also don't risk it going well.” She clumsily boops his nose, smiling dopily at him. “Guess which outcome I have my money on?”

“Girl, what money?” He laughs when she jabs him in the stomach. He leans in for a kiss after a moment, realizing that they can do that now, and smooches her cheek gladly. “So, if the Dads know, that means we're officially an 'us.'”

“We are.” She grins and kisses his cheek back. “I like being an us, it's pretty great so far.”

“It is.” He grins back, feeling like he can't stop. Shit, it's really happening. Is he in love? Is that an okay word to use after literally one very unexpected day? Probably not out loud.

He walks her downstairs, and they whisper-laugh a few walk-of-shame jokes before she heads out in her poofy pink coat, leaving him alone with the giddy feeling in his gut. In the dining room, Dad and Damien are doing maybe the worst acting job he's ever seen. “Are you two gonna make a big deal out of this?”

“Make a big deal out of what?” Damien inquires with convincing innocence, frying pan and spatula in hand.

“Yes, is there something we should make a big deal out of?” Hugo smiles, legitimately doing the newspaper crossword like he's a goddamn cartoon character.

Ernest sighs and drops into his chair, accepting several pancakes from Damien. “We literally just started- dating, I guess. No wedding bells, no grandbabies, nothing crazy yet, so please relax.”

“You know we're not like that.”

“Certainly, I'm not my mother.” Damien chuckles, almost unconsciously rubbing Hugo's robe-covered arm while they eat. So gross, but also goals.

“But, out of curiosity,” Hugo teasingly elbows him. “Did you kiss her yet?”

The dads laugh while Ernest howls. He'd text his Pop for backup, but he will get the exact same shit in different wording. He pulls out his phone and texts Lucien instead.

EHV: Hey Carmensita and I are dating just FYI

LB: About gd time, you've been heart eyes at her for literal years

CS: What

CS: Lucien why would you not tell me this

CS: I COULD HAVE SAVED SO MUCH TIME >:(

EHV: Oh shit group chat again

LB: Let's rename these things plz

EHV: Sorry babe <3

CS: Np hon ;*

LB: And here I am, third wheeling it again

EHV: You are basically married stfu

LB: That does not make this better

CS: Ladies ladies, you're both pretty

EHV: Sita knows whats uppppp

LB: Finishing BNHA this weekend y/n?

CS: Y, obvs

EHV: Also Y, I'm off at 7 don't watch ahead

LB: Don't walk so slow and we won't

EHV: Eat a dick

CS: G2g, love you guys

EHV: Love ya too

LB: <3

LB: Also, straaaaaaaaaaight

EHV: Fuckin really dude

LB: Someone has to

LB: Tell Dad I'm coming for dinner tonight

EHV: Will do, bye weeb

LB: Cya loser

#sinunamor #dream daddy #dream daddy hc #ddadds #ernest hemingway vega #carmensita sella #ernestsita

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