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#in other words guess what! its been a little over 9 months!
notmuchtofind · 6 months
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public eye | d.s
pt2 here x
word count: 1.6k
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tw: mentions of infertility and low appetite
synopsis: the lead up to the breakup between you 2
it's everywhere.
'Drew Starkey And y/f/n y/l/n SPLIT' ,
'What Happened Between Drew Starkey And y/f/n y/l/n?', 
'Drew and y/n Messy Breakup?!"
you can't escape what you're trying to forget...
You and Drew were together for 3 and a half years, you guys went public with your relationship pretty quickly, constantly making tiktoks and posting instagram stories of each other. It sent fans Wild! which caused you to gain a huge following on the internet, from fans of obx to just random people in general that simply enjoyed seeing your guys' relationship unfold.
you were the IT couple. Red carpets, premiers, award shows. you name it. you did It all with Drew. 
your life changed drastically when you met drew. and because you were doing it together it was all okay. more than okay, it was bliss.
It's been 2 months since you guys broke up, and even though neither of you had addressed it online yet, people started to speculate, people started to talk and people came to an assumption (which was correct) that you and Drew were no longer together. 
| a week before the break up |
*buzz* your phone vibrates...
its drew
Drew: Hey, plans have changed, I'm sorry I can't come see you tonight...reschedule? 
you sigh...
this is the 3rd time in 2 weeks he's cancelled your plans for something that's "just come up". You've never been the type to not trust Drew, he's always been truthful and you guys have been so transparent with each other ever since you got together, but something just feels off this time. you know that you guys have been struggling for the past couple of months with distance and lifestyle changes and it worries you that it's all getting a little too much for you both
Was it the brief mention of you wanting to try for a baby in the next 1-2 years? Maybe it scares him? but you struggle with your fertility and starting to look into starting a family now would prepare you for the next couple of years...
OR
Was it the long distance? He's busy shooting a new movie for Netflix which requires him to go back and forth between LA and Hawaii, its difficult because neither of you like LA enough to want to spend time here constantly, but you've compromised for drew, and with him not even being here half the time, it feels like a waste of time. and this text message just tops it off for you, you haven't seen him in a week, and your mainly here for him, it feels like a stab in the back.
you open your phone and tap on the message icon...
your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a while whilst you think of the right way to phrase how you feel
maybe it would be best to just have a talk in person? you wonder...
y/n: reschedule for when? 
Sent!
a few minutes go bye, which feels like hours
*buzz*
Drew: I'll see you tomorrow afternoon after shooting? Brunch?Downtown LA?
you sigh, you just feel like Drews being stale...no pet names? no I miss you, I love you? you know its small but you can't help but overthink
but you're determined to not let your worry show through the message sent back
y/n: yeh, let me know what time, i'll see you tomorrow. night drew...I love you Read 22:34 pm
no reply
your alarm rings  9:30am 
you groan and fumble to switch it off
picking up your phone you squint your eyes to read the message from Drew which was delivered at 7am, you guessed he had to get up early for filming.
drew: i'll be done around 1pm if you wanna meet me at the cafe?
y/n: yeh, see you there
you respond
'The cafe' , the cafe you and drew always visit when in LA for premiers and awards shows most of the years you've been together. you knew exactly where he was talking about.
12:30pm rolls around and you grab your car keys after slipping your shoes on, ready for your 'date?"( if you can call it that?) with drew. The nerves kick in as you have a sinking feeling that he's got something to say... you switch on your car and drive over to downtown LA.
---------------------------------------
You grab your bag from the passenger seat and step out of the car after parking it down a side road near the place you're meeting. As your walking towards the cafe you see drew stud outside the main entrance on the phone...he looks to be laughing
as soon as he clocks you walking towards him he stutters, his face slightly drops and fumbles to end the call "yeh yeh, okay speak soon" drew mumbles.
drew pulls you into a hug as you step closer, its a tight hug, he kisses you on the head before pushing you back slightly, his hands on your shoulders
"how've you been?'' Drew says. "umm, yeh not bad" you smile slightly, nodding as you lie through your teeth. you've been nothing but a mess for the past couple of weeks.
"who was you chatting too just there" you nod, looking down at the phone in his hand
"oh, urm just, my costar in this movie, the directors wanting to change a part of the script so we was just like...discussing that" he chuckles nervously 
"oh I see" you shrug 
taking a seat inside, you watch and Drew goes up to the counter, ordering you both a coffee, he offers to order you food but you refuse. your appetite has been non existent for the past weeks, food was the last thing on your mind.
Drew sits opposite you after placing the coffees on the table. you play with your hair whilst staring at Drews hands gripping his coffee tight...
"so y/n...listen, I'm sorry I couldn't come see you yesterday, I, I uhhh..." drew stutters "I went for a drink with a few of the people from the set and uh... and I was up early this morning, i'd have had to of travel 45 minutes in an uber to come see you last night yanno...like, shit I dont know... it wasn't practical' he squirms, fumbling over his thoughts
it may have been minor, but you feel your blood boiling, you don't feel any apologetic energy coming from drew, it feels more like guilt, not that he's let you down, more the guilt that he enjoyed himself more than he would've with you last night...you're fuming
'stay calm y/n' you think too yourself
"But you knew we made plans for the evening Drew? you couldn't not drink for one night just to make sure you could see me?"
he leans over the table slightly "look y/n/n im trying to create a bond with these people I-"
you cut him off. 
"Seriously, what the fuck drew?!" you scoff "listen to yourself, it's been shit between us for months now and you think doing shit like this is going to fix anything?" you gesturing with your hands, trying to say slightly under your breath so the whole cafe cant tell your arguing
its silent for a moment whilst you both think of what to say next
"you know I'm struggling ?" you say through cracks in your voice, looking at drew, tearing up 
you don't want him to see you cry, you hate crying in front of drew, never mind in public
he just looks at you, guilty and wide eyed, he tilts back on his chair and sighs whilst pinching the bridge of his nose.
"fuck y/n, I dont know" he looks away...
" I'm feeling a lot of pressure right now, I'm working and I'm away and the last thing I want right now is a child y/n! do you understand?"
you're taken back... you've spent the last 3 years moving away from your hometown, supporting Drew, making a life for yourself wherever he goes but he can never meet you in the middle?! he won't even consider thinking through the thought of one day starting a family with you? you're just asking for a discussion about what the future might hold but he gets defensive every time it's brought up...
"Is that it?" you ask " is that what's turned you so cold?"
he leans over trying to grab your hand "fuck...baby, no I-" 
you flinch as you cut him off
"drew if it's not what you want and it's what I eventually want, are we even right for each other? what are we doing? you don't care for me like you usto, you're not the same, your a dick" you say trying not to shout
"I don't know what I want right now?" Drew states, not looking you in the eyes.
How's he being so calm? Why is he doing this? This is not like drew.
"fuck you" You stand up out of the chair and walk right out of the cafe doors, tears start streaming down your face and you try to hide you face with the palm of your hand...
*snap* followed by a flicker
*snap* *snap*
fuck.
you look around...
"is that paparazzi?" you mumble to yourself 
you walk faster to your car quickly opening the door and throwing your bag on the backseat, you fumble to turn the engine on and see slight flickers through the rearview mirror...this is the last thing you need right now.
part 2!!!!!
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callmelola111 · 5 months
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K.O. ♡ e.w. oneshot
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 ✄ - - - -   inspo track   - - - -   bull believer- wednesday
synopsis: as hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you.
      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.8k
      | ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is in a toxic relationship with a man (sexuality isn’t mentioned in huge detail so feel free to hc however you like—they could be bi, pan or just a lesbian with very real comp het), coming out scene (refers to self as “gay”), heavy swearing, descriptions of intense violence + gore, cheating (bf on reader), underage drinking + use of marjuana (18), reader is called a slur (dyke)
a/n: hi hellooo, long time no see! **first, a quick disclaimer: this isn't realistic, there is a complete lack of morals and an unethical/dangerous amount of violence that i wouldn't condone irl. but alas this is fan fiction based off a M rated game whose whole basis is violence, sooo plz keep that in mind when reading.** anywaysss... i’ve been obsessed with this song for months now and it sparked a little oneshot idea so here it is. not exactly my usual stuff, more of a passion project as i process my hatred for men as a lesbian who used to date them. soooo i guess this one goes out to my small town comp het girlies who love ellie williams. thanks for all the support!! ♡~ lola
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In the south it never really felt like a true winter. All the holidays that came along with it never felt real either. Christmas was dull and New Years was even worse. After spending the last 18 years of your life in a small hick town, it felt like no use to wish for some “better future”. You were damned from the start. Sure it was a new year, but it was the same old shit and you knew nothing was gonna change until you got out of this hell hole.
Just 6 more months of pretending, you’d tell yourself. 6 more months of bending over backwards to please your overbearing parents. 6 more months of mediocre sex with your shitty boyfriend that you weren’t even sure you liked. 6 more months of artificial conversations with your estranged friend group from middle school who claim to “not get you” anymore. But at this point, as every little thing ate away at you, you weren’t sure if you could keep up your act for much longer. Especially tonight, where you’d be faced with the challenge of appeasing all 3. 
December 31st, 9:00pm:
Adorned in a matching set of mint green pjs you sat patiently on your bed waiting for the go-ahead. Like clockwork, your parents gave a small knock and pushed open your door from its cracked position. It always annoyed you how they knocked, pretending to respect your privacy while simultaneously enforcing a “no closed doors” rule. You thought at 18 they would’ve let it go, but no. 
“Well hun, me and your mother are heading out now. We don’t expect to be back till the morning… Ya know, just to be safe while taking part in all the ‘festivities’.” Your dad chuckled, throwing up some air quotes. Your mom stood deadpan waiting for him to wrap up his little bit before butting in.
“No plans for the evening, right?” She phrased her words like a question but you knew this was just her way of subtleing enforcing the stupid rules you’ve followed your whole life.
“Of course not momma. Probably just gonna watch Gilmore Girls reruns and then go to sleep before any fireworks start up.” You gestured to your pjs but your perfectly made bed said otherwise. See, you knew this little routine like the back of your hand. You knew just what to do and just what to say in order to lure your parents into a false sense of security. While they stood in the frame of your door wishing you a goodnight, your party clothes hung on the other side of it, just out of their view.
December 31st, 9:30pm:
A loud honking blared from just outside your bedroom window. You ushered the sheer curtains open and glared out at the little sedan sputtering in your driveway. Your hands ran down your face followed by a big sigh. It’s not like you didn’t know your boyfriend Jax was coming to pick you up for the new years party that night, you had planned it just days before. But unbeknownst to him, the only reason you reached out was because you didn’t have a ride and tonight was one of the few times your parents wouldn’t be around to police curfew. 
You climbed into the passenger seat already cringing at the unidentifiable smell and litters of trash covering the floor. Forcing a smile to your face you greet the grimey boy sitting at the wheel with a wave.
“Come onnnn, not even a kiss? You must be real happy to see me, huh?” You grit your teeth, squeeze both eye’s shut, and lean in for a peck to appease his complaints. 
“Of course I’m happy to see you babe.” This was a lie. Something you had become quite good at these past few years, even lying to yourself at times. The rest of the car ride was silent, leaving you to ponder this drudgery of a relationship. You weren’t quite sure when things shifted or if there was ever an attraction at all, but after a year together and college approaching you just decided to ride it out until the inevitable. And part of you recognized the same in him, so there was never any guilt about it. 
December 31st, 9:45pm:
Alcohol was the first thing on your mind as soon as the car went into park. The door to the house was propped wide open, inviting in teens of the small town. Some top 10 hit boomed from a speaker nested in the main living area, not really your style—at least not sober. You scavenged the kitchen for a clean solo cup to designate as your own and began the journey to drunkenness. Jax followed in suit with a couple bottles of beer. The harsh burn in your throat lingered but the alcohol's effect was already beginning to take off the edge that was your life.
You attempted to initiate some conversation with the man who had brought you here but he was too busy texting to listen. So consumed with the glow of his screen, you couldn’t help but peek to see what was so interesting. As soon as you got a glimpse you wished you had been less nosey. His attention was not being stolen by a dumb Instagram reels, but actually, a long string of texts with a girl whose name you didn’t recognize. Your stomach pinged at his possible infidelity. Partly because he was your boyfriend but mostly because you’d spent months convincing yourself to like him, to stay with him, to be a good girlfriend—and he could care less. All this work and effort on your part was simply discarded with his unloyal behavior. It was all for nothing. But hey, maybe you were just drawing conclusions. It could just be a friend. Right?
December 31st, 10:15pm:
Jax had finally shifted his attention back to you before his screen lit up again causing you to retaliate in irritation. You swiped up the cracked device before he had the chance and began to scroll.
“Can’t you just silence it? What is soooo fucking importan-.” Your voice caught at the sight of flirty messages littering the screen.
“Are-are you fucking cheating on me?” You instantly questioned.
“Bro no! Give me my fucking phone back!”
“Who the fuck are you texting then? ‘Mary Jane’,” you spouted in a mocking tone, “no way is that someone's real name. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“It’s a joke between me and my cousin. Now would you chill?”
“Your cousin?? You call your cousin baby?? I mean, I knew this town was full of hicks but I didn’t know y’all were those kinds of hicks.” The alcohol was giving you a little too much courage as your taunting waded into dangerous territory.
“The fuck did you just say? Don’t fucking test me! Can’t even handle a couple shots without getting all crazy on me!!”
“Crazy?? I’m being fucking reasonable. Literally any other person would be bothered by this just as much as me.”
“You know what, just fuck off. We can talk when you stop being such a delusional bitch.” He then disappeared into the living room, landing onto the couch, leaving you alone with your anger. 
December 31st, 10:30pm:
You stood idle, bubbling over with emotion, eye’s filling with tears when a wet sensation hit your upper lip. Its flow grew stronger and began to trickle onto your hands where your gaze was locked. Deep red stained your palms- a random nosebleed. It was like a sign from the universe. A sign that you weren’t crazy. In fact, you might be one of the only sane people in this whole damn town. Stuck in your reverie, blood continued to drip on your hands, your shirt, your lips- everywhere. That is until a kind eyed girl slipped you a dish towel to stop the flow. 
“Uh hey, your nose is bleeding.” You snapped your head up finally acknowledging the moment in full.
“Shit thanks, sorry…” Your face went hot realizing how long you had been just standing still, letting the blood fall where it may. The heat doubled, spreading to your ears when you finally acknowledged the person who had witnessed the whole thing. Ellie Williams. You had never formally met but knew of her existence, as she had kind of a reputation around school. There wasn’t anything inherently bad about her (at least in your opinion), she just didn’t fit the mold of most residents in your town. Therefore, she was a target for people's prejudices, especially being the only out lesbian in your senior class. Despite everyone else’s thoughts, you really admired her. You wished you had that type of courage.
“It’s no problem…” the auburn haired girl glanced down deciding what to say next before lifting her gaze back up to you. “Not to be nosey, I know you don’t really know me, but like… are you okay?”
Head tilted back, you gave a nasally reply, “Oh me? Yeah, yeah uh- I’m okay” 
“No offense but uh, you don’t look that okay.” she gestured to your bloody everything.
“Alright so I’m not okay, you got me.” You looked down to your now crimson stained blouse and scrubbed frantically at the chiffon material trying to reprimand the damage.
“Here, here– You can just take my flannel to cover it up, I promise I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Before you could say anything else, Ellie was sliding the warm garment over your shoulders and guiding you into the arm holes. It was dark blue, in a faded plaid pattern, and smelled of pine and incense. The girl was now left barren in just her white tank– and all for you.
“Yeah of course.” She then took it a step further, buttoning you up. You watched as her dexterous fingers worked up from the bottom of the shirt to the top, brushing you at each maneuver. A little jab into the plush right under your naval, a swipe past your ribs, and a tap at your collarbones. The quick, unexpected interaction left you completely flustered and you weren’t quite sure why.
“Thank you.” was all you could say. 
“Sooo… do you wanna talk about it?” At this point, Ellie was completely enamored with you from the way you handled yourself with Jax. She had this unusual feeling, a feeling like she needed to protect you. A feeling that you were different from most. Maybe you were even a little like her?
“Honestly, yeah. My friend Samara was supposed to be here tonight but I guess she decided not to show, and I’m starting to wish I didn’t either.”
“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m glad you’re here. Come on now, follow me.” Ellie led the way to a set of stairs at the edge of the living room. You snaked right past the couch where Jax was drunkenly passed out, mumbling obscenities at his phone. Of course, he paid no mind to you. The idiot was too consumed with himself to even wonder if you were okay.
December 31st, 11:00pm:
You and the sweet girl sat on the rough carpeted step talking about everything under the sun. Ellie was the first person in a really long time who you felt you could be honest with.
“So you think he’s cheating on you?” she questions trying to clarify the few bits of dialogue she heard while watching from afar.
“I know he is. I’m not stupid.”
“I’m sure you’re not.” Ellie put her head down staring at the laces of her dirty converse. You felt so unreadable, making her unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. “So00, how do you feel about it all then?”
“I don’t know, I guess angry.” you answered with a remarkably solemn tone. 
“What about… sad?”
Like second nature, you instantly thought of a less than honest answer until Ellie’s attentive green eyes brought you back to Earth. 
“It feels like… I’m supposed to be sad, but I can’t. In a twisted, confusing way, I’m honestly kinda relieved. So fucking pissed, but relieved.” Ellie’s lids widened, this was an answer she wasn’t expecting at all–but one she was glad to hear.  
“I can’t blame you, he does kinda seem like a piece of shit.”
“And his dick is small too.” you quipped, making Ellie chuckle under her breath.
“Maybe I’m reading into things, but… it seems like you never really liked this guy in the first place.” 
You took a guilty pause before confirming, “Maybe…”
“So why haven’t you broken up with him?” Ellie was genuinely curious. She thought if it was her in the situation she definitely would’ve gotten rid of that Jax guy long, long ago. Who would wanna keep around a douche bag like that?
“Being with Jax felt convenient. He felt like my ticket to ‘normalcy’.” You put your head down in slight shame but continued the explanation. “I got so caught up in my image that I neglected how I actually felt. I was doing everything to please everyone but me.”  Ellie scooted in one inch to the left, now connecting your thighs and bringing in a sense of comfort.
“Trust me, I understand. This town is fucking ruthless.”
“God yeah, the things I’ve heard people say about you are seriously fucked up. I don’t know how you do it.” A beat of silence lingered as Ellie articulated her thoughts.
“I think… community. I mean, obviously most of the people at our school look down on me, but all it takes is one singular person to be right there with you and then things don’t feel so bad. I guess for me, I can’t imagine being anything but myself. Like completely myself.” The girl looked up from the hangnail she was picking at as she spoke and was met with your tear filled eyes. “Fuck, did I say something?”
Your hand shot up to quickly wipe away the floodgates threatening to fall, “No, no. It’s just that you’re right,” you stuttered, choking down another cry, “an-and, I wish I would've realized it sooner because these past 4 years have been like hell. I don’t wanna be the cookie cutter straight girl anymore. I just wanna be me.”
Ellie then placed a gentle hand to your knee and brought her eyes to meet your own, “And what might that be?”
“Gay. Like really fucking gay.” you said through teary-eyed laughs as Ellie joined in with her own hearty chuckle.
“Welcome to the club.” she said, sticking out a strong hand for you to shake. You grasped it tightly as her warm palm guided you up and down, her touch lingering just a little longer than the gesture itself. As you collected yourself you whipped out a small pocket mirror to touch up the smudged mascara littering your undereyes. Ellie admired in silence. She was in pure awe of your resilience, and when you were finished with your clean up, you turned back to realize what had just gone down.
“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you considering we just met. It’s weird how things I’ve never even said out loud before can come out so easily around a stranger.”
Ellie nudges you with her shoulder, “I guess I just have that effect, huh?”
“I guess you do.” you sighed, nudging her back.
December 31st, 11:15pm:
The two of you continued your banter until a cold breeze from the back door gave Ellie a brilliant idea.
“Dare I say… you look like you need a blunt?” she said with a mischievous smirk.
“No, please. It's exactly what I need.”
Ellie then reached into the pocket of her baggy jeans, “I guess it’s your lucky day then.” she said, revealing the most perfectly wrapped blunt you’d ever seen.
“You’re actually god sent Ellie. How are we just now meeting?” The auburn-haired girl gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to the backyard. As she pushed the white panel door open, every single ounce of weight that had been lifted off from that one singular conversation, all came crashing back down. Ellie and you weren’t the only ones who adventured outside into the brisk night air. Right on the porch stood Jax, accompanied by your “friend” Samara, who up until this point you didn’t even think was coming. The piece of shit was practically sucking her face off before the creaking sound of the back door sent them 5 feet apart.
“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” you yelled, eyes growing dark with rage. Ellie just stood and watched from the corner.
“Babe, please! I swear it’s not what you think!” Jax stumbled forward, attempting to grasp at your figure.
“Don’t you dare try and touch me! You don’t even deserve to look at me. It’s over Jax. I’m done being suffocated by your never ending bullshit!” Knuckles clenched, you continued your lashings, this time at Samara. “I-I thought we were friends. What happened to that?”
“You don’t even like him. You should be thanking me.” she spat. 
“You really don’t get it, huh? This has nothing to do with me liking Jax or not, you completely betrayed our friendship the second you started fucking him behind my back. Friends don’t fuck each other boyfriends Samara!” Before she could even respond Jax was dragging her away, flipping you off on the way inside.
“Ellie-” you squeaked, trembling in shock. 
“Come here, it’s okay love.” she whispered, parting her arms to make a safe space just for you. You collapsed into the warm cavity and relinquished the buckets of tears you had been saving for the moment someone actually gave a fuck. And Ellie did. She never let go of you even for a second as you crumbled under her.
“Jeez I’m sorry.” you said after minutes of pure silence, lifting your head to meet Ellie’s green eyes. 
“For what?”
“For being a drunk mess, crying to you about a man, and also, I think I got a little snot on your shirt.” you tried to laugh it off but you really just wanted to disappear.
Taking your face in her palms Ellie reassured you, “hey, hey no need to be sorry pretty girl. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Besides, I think I look kinda good with this huge ass wet spot in the middle of my tank top. What do you think?” You stepped back and took a look at the damage, and honestly, she was kinda right. With the white cotton material you could see right through to her toned stomach, barely missing the bottom of her breasts. 
“Fine, yes. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d kill to see you in a wet shirt Ellie.”
“Lucky you then.” she said, playfully nudging your shoulder.
You couldn’t help it as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“There’s that smile. Soooo… blunt now?”
“Yes. Blunt.”
December 31st, 11:30pm:
And just like that, you were halfway through the chestnut wand of herbs and deep in conversation.  
“So you really haven't seen But I’m a Cheerleader?” Ellie asked, blowing out a puff of smoke with the question and passing it on.
You took the blunt from between her fingers and let it rest between your own, “No. Should I have?” 
“Definitely dude, it’s like queer classic.”
“Oh yeah?” You cocked your head at the freckled faced girl. 
“Yeah. And now that I’m thinking about it, you’re honestly just like the main character.”
“How so?” you asked, taking another long draw. 
“She’s in denial about being gay for like the first 30 minutes of the movie.”
A string of coughs unleashed from your chest as you let out a hefty laugh mid-inhale, “Bitch-”
“What? I’m being so deadass!”
“Fine, what character are you then?” you pry, passing the lit blunt back over to Ellie.
Taking a hit she replies, “I guess I’d be graham.”
“And what does she do?”
“I’m kinda like your awakening in a sense. Graham is all gay and cool, and of course Megan—that's you—totally falls for her.” 
You retrieve the lit cannabis and roll your eyes, “I haven’t fallen for you yet Williams.”
“Yet.” she emphasizes, placing a soft finger to the tip of your nose tauntingly.
“Ha. Ha.” you monotonously mock, “Now here, I think it’s done.” You hand Ellie the roach and she promptly stubs it out into the concrete slab deck.
“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m fucking cold.” she pleas.
“Dude I’m scared. Like I am way too fucked up for this.”
“No, no– I promise you’re fine. I’ll protect you.” 
“Fineee.” you drag out.
December 31st, 11:50pm:
Things were seemingly fine as you and Ellie entered the muggy living area of the packed house once more. Your hesitancy was quite clear though and Ellie could sense you needed just a little reassurance. Your right hand, currently picking away at the hangnail on the thumb of your left, was quickly captured by Ellies own rough hand which led you back to your comfortable spot on the ascending stair set.
As you both took a seat your grip remained tight on the girl, afraid that if you let go you might jump up from your spot right then and there just to give Jax one more lesson. Just the sight of him through the slats of the stairs’ wooden railing—legs casually spread wide and eyes focused in on a casual game of Mortal Kombat—drove you fucking crazy. 
“Dude if you keep staring like that you might actually burn a hole through his dumb ass T-shirt.” Ellie said, nudging your tensed shoulder.
“Good it’s ugly anyways.”
“Fair point.”
“I just have this burning need to get back at him. I wanna beat his ass just like in that game he can’t take his eyes off.”
Ellie rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Oh yeah?” you questioned before laying a soft punch to the girl's forearm. A string of dramatic “Ows” reverberated from her lips. “See, I’m a badass right?”
“Fine you’re a total badass” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing the soft tissue of her arm where you had left your mark. 
“What? It hurt that bad? You need me to kiss it better?” you taunted. 
“Maybe I do.” she said, longing eyes staring into your own. 
You gulped down any hesitation and felt it drop straight to your nervous stomach, “Where does it hurt?”
Ellie pointed to her arm slowly, “here.”
You placed a soft peck.
Hot breath raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, “and here”, she gestured to her outstretched neck
Another supple kiss.
“And um-” she continued, but was quickly cut off and brought back to reality with the bellowing sound of a countdown. Too caught up in the moment, you both had almost forgotten about the holiday currently taking place.
FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…
“Can I kiss you?” she blurted frantically, and with no words you dove into her plump, chapped lips. Just like a puzzle piece your bottom lip slotted perfectly between her own. It was a gentle and delicate kiss at first, drinking in the euphoric moment. Quickly though, soft maneuvers of the mouth got quicker and harder. Spit was exchanged with passion and need, as your hands were becoming grabby at the girl's toned figure. The heat growing between your legs was an easy distraction from the fact that you were at a large party, in a hick town, with your ex-boyfriend now hovering over your more than friendly exchange.
January 1st, 12:01am:
“The fuck? You’re a dyke now?” he yells, practically loud enough for the whole party to hear. You and Ellie frantically pull apart, bumping heads in the process.
The calloused hands that were once caressing the small of your back are now balled into tight fists as Ellie rises from her seated position.
“The fuck did you just say?” she questions, tilting her head to the right.
You now stand up with her, worried where this might go, “Jax you need to walk away.”
“Oh shut up slut. You’re so fucking desperate you’d do it with anyone!” 
That one hurt. That was the tipping point. Tears welled in your eyes. 
“I’M NOT A FUCKING SLUT! I’M GAY AND NEVER LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!”
“You need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret, you dirty bitch.” he threatens. And that's it, Ellie takes a swing aiming straight for his nose. Her fist retracts and reveals his bloody and now crooked cartilage. Through clenched teeth Jax grips onto Ellies white tank, throwing her into the open space of the living room. Just like a car crash, it’s one of those things where a scene can be so disturbing but you just can’t look away. And everyone else in the room was feeling it too—backed into corners, hands over mouths, some men even obnoxiously chanting “fight, fight.” But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all.
“STOP! YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT!” you screamed desperately. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jax would do to the freckled girl who changed your life in mere hours. But you didn’t have to, because here they were, brawling it out for the whole school. Jax swung at Ellie’s head to which she ducked before jabbing him in the stomach, stealing whatever air was swimming in his lungs. He stumbled backwards 3 steps, coughing through the hit, but this just made him angrier.
He charged back at the flustered girl with more force and gained a grip on a wad of choppy auburn hair. With a forceful yank she came tumbling to the ground with him on top. Ellie wriggled, pushed, and kicked but the sheer weight of the furious man was enough to keep her pinned. Jax began punching left and right, capturing her face with each blow. Thick crimson decorated his knuckles and the entirety of the girl's face. You could barely make out her litter of freckles and the half-lidded slits of emerald green—it was blood, all blood.
But as Jax kept on going, and the room grew quieter, this fight turned into something much more serious. It was inching on life or death and you had to do something. You surveyed the room, eyes dancing from counter to counter until a large glass beer bottle nagged at the tips of your fingers. Grabbing it tightly in your fist, you did what you had to to end this. Glass and gasps scattered through the room. The sharp brown shards littered the floor and evoked a gushing red stream from the back of Jax’s head. He instantly rolled to the side leaving Ellie an opening to escape. You weren’t done yet though, he hadn’t gotten what he deserved yet. Falling to the floor right at his body, hot tears streamed down your face.
Through curses and screams you thrashed at the man's barely conscious frame, “FUCK YOU JAX! FUCK YOU!” This was for every time he made you feel stupid, for making you feel like the ugliest girl in the room, for all the times he kissed you while you just prayed for it to be over, for making your life a living hell. With each scratch, punch, and kick all the pent up anger and resentment drained from your soul. Ellie let you have at him for a bit but as the crowd started to thin she knew the cops would be here any second now.
“Come on! We gotta go hun!” she nagged. 
“NO I CAN’T! NOT YET” you yelled, collapsing down into tears. Ellie promptly scooped you up by your armpits and dragged you from Jax’s limp body.
“I know baby, you're angry, it’s hard. But the cops are coming and we need to leave now.” she said, picking you up completely and carrying you through the frame of the propped open front door. You nestled your head into her bloody top as your chest still rapidly rose up and down, choking on the last few streams of tears and snot. “I’m gonna get you home love, don’t you worry.”
January 1st, 12:15am:
Finally through the small window of Ellie’s red truck you spot your familiar 2 story home. She grips the steering wheel, whipping to the right into the empty driveway. Of course she helps you inside and up to your quaint little bedroom. It felt weird almost—so quiet and still after such a chaotic night—and void of any life but you and the freckled faced girl. It was a cold feeling knowing you’d be all alone in just a few minutes, and tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a feeling you wanted to know.
“Els?”
“Yeah?” she answered softly. 
“Can you stay?”
With a kiss to the head she agreed, “Of course I’ll stay.” The rest of the night was spent cuddled up under your warm comforter, and despite all the events from just hours before, you felt safe. And for once, in fucking years, you were content.
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✄ - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡
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taglist...
@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy
(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)
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upon-a-starry-night · 5 months
Text
Number Neighbors Pt.9
Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist
Word Count: 745
Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?
---
You stirred your cup of freshly made coffee as you thought of how close you and Nat had gotten over the past few months. You’d just finished some mild cleaning and were taking a break to make your third cup of liquid energy. There was no way you’d normally have the energy to clean your apartment without caffeine, and honestly, you were considering switching to energy drinks, the taste of coffee was becoming too…bitter.
Although you had to admit at least the taste matched your mood. If your mother were here she would berate you for how much pacing you’ve been doing, but you couldn't help it. Every time you let yourself rest your thoughts drifted to Nat.
 You were worried you may have overstepped after your last conversation.
~
You and Nat had been texting over the weekend as you usually would when Nat expressed to you that her work was probably going to consume her for a while again this week, you outwardly groaned at the information. You knew that meant she probably wasn’t going to be able to text you the entire time. It always made you upset when you couldn’t text her, you wouldn’t ever admit how dependent you’d become on her presence out loud. 
This time though, as you lay on your bed under the covers as the city lit up with its usual Saturday night party-goers, you listened to the laughs of friend groups and couples outside of your window and you found yourself succumbing to your usual melancholy loneliness. It was that same hollow feeling and the thought of being virtually alone all week that led you to confess something you knew you probably shouldn’t have
       Nat🔪:
Y/n🍦: 
I wish I could hear your voice.
The thought occurred to you many times as your friendship progressed, along with other terribly intrusive thoughts about her appearance and whether or not she was as beautiful as you’d begun picturing her to be. Nat didn’t respond to your message for a while and it got to the point where you stopped staring at the gray “seen” on your phone and turned the TV on for some comfort. Anxiety began to creep into your blood and you realized after watching the credits roll on an episode that you’d not even been able to pay the TV any attention. 
You began to nervously pick at your skin, refusing to acknowledge the lump threatening to form in your throat. You’d googled so many times if it was appropriate to be so forward with online friends- Google the lying bastard told you it was common for online friends to send each other voice messages and even Facetime from time to time. 
You knew it would be different with Nat, everything was. But you guessed some stupid hopeful part of your brain thought maybe…
You’re forced out of your thoughts by the sound of your phone buzzing, you quickly grab it and unlock it, heart pounding in your ears as you stare at the new message
          Nat🔪:
Nat🔪:
You know I can’t do that.
It was such a simple message but it still made you ache all the same. You typed out a blank response and shut off your phone for the night, you doubted she was going to respond anyway.
Y/n🍦:
Yeah.
You fell asleep soon after that, missing the sound of your phone buzzing once more as you turned in bed.
Nat🔪:
I’m sorry.
That was the last message you’d gotten from Nat, and while you were broken up about it you were also salty. You didn’t text her on Sunday when you realized that it had always been you who texted first, and maybe it was petty but you wanted to see if she would reach out first for once. 
Your Sunday came and went without a single message. 
You called your mom just to have someone to talk to. You loved your apartment but lately, the space felt too empty and cold, maybe you should go buy a plant and get emotionally attached to that instead, people were too unpredictable. 
Especially your person
~
The rest of your week was quiet and boring, you knew Nat would be busy but you didn’t bother spamming her with memes and messages like you usually would. You looked around your clean apartment and sighed, downing the rest of your coffee. You picked up your keys, needing a distraction, at least you could go grocery shopping.
Pt.10
A/n: And now we get to the angsttt :(
~~~
@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish
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glittter-vamp · 9 months
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CHAPTER 9
Joe Burrow x Bisexual OC.
Warnings: 18+MDNI. Mention Of Death & Grief. Emotional Intimacy pretty much at 100 and smut-ish themes. Homophobia. Angsty yet Fluffy. Pretty heavy chapter overall.
Word Count: 3.4k
"Thank you for shopping with us, have a great day!" Val smiles at a customer that was in the store while handing them their shopping bag. It was Sunday which she usually didn't come in for but Elsa had went a little too hard at the Pride parade the day prior and Dani was off. So, it was just her and Kade in the store today making things happen. 
"Almost time to close, what a weekend!" Kade sighs moving a box of hangers. 
"It was pretty crazy, I guess since we closed yesterday for the parade people came today instead." Val says organizing a rack of shirts.
"I'm so glad I'm off for the next two days, I'm drinking a whole bottle of wine by myself tonight to destress." Kade lets out a breath. 
"You and me both." Val smiles. Them two make it through the last work hour with only one other customer coming in. Cleaning up quickly, they make it out of the store by 4:50 and in their cars to go home. Since it was Sunday evening the traffic wasn't so bad but living in a city meant it was still there regardless. As Val drove home she got a call from Joe. She had talked to him here and there, all through text after that argument they had. 
"Hello?" Val answers on the car Bluetooth. 
"Hey...are you out of work?" Joe asks. 
"I am. Why?" Val asks wondering why. 
"Would you mind stopping by the house today? Something came for you at the house." Joe says sounding just as confused as she was hearing that. 
"Uh, what do you mean something came for me...to your house? I've never your given address for anything to anyone." Val questions. 
"I'm just confused as you about it are but it's addressed to you, it's a letter." He says. 
"Does it seems like junk mail or something? That's so weird..." She asks as she drives. 
"No, it's hand written from within the state. Say's its from someone named Sabrina Farley." Joe responds back, Val's heart dropping hearing that. 
"Are you sure!?" Val asks trying to remain her cool. 
"That's what it says, I can drop it off during the week if you're busy--
"No, I'll come get it now. I'm in the car driving anyway." Val says. 
"Alright, you can let your self in. I have to rest up my leg. My knee has been feeling weird." Joe says. 
"Do you need anything?" Val asks. 
"Nah I'm good, but thanks. I appreciate that." Joe yawns. They hang up soon after and Val makes her way to Joe's.
***************************************
Pulling up to his house she parks in the driveway and lets her self in like he told her too. She could hear the tv, Joe was of course was watching some alien documentary like usual. Walking to the living room she see's Joe laying on his couch icing his knee. 
"So, what'd you do to your knee?" Val speaks up startling Joe and making her laugh. 
"I didn't hear you come in... but I think I went to hard in the gym yesterday." He shrugs looking at his leg,
"Better chill before everyone gets on your ass or you injure yourself again." Val shakes her head. 
"I know..." Joe sighs. 
"So about the letter?" Val asks awkwardly. 
"Oh yeah, here!" Joe reaches over and grabs the letter that was sitting beside the remote. 
"Here you go, I didn't open it or anything." He says handing her the white envelope. Val reads the name and she starts to feel uneasy about it. 
"I really have no idea how this person got your address. I'm real sorry this came here, that's super invasive." Val bites her lip looking at Joe. 
"It's alright. Do you know who that person is though?" Joe asks and she nods yes. 
"My older sister. Since I cut off contact from the family , they haven't had my number or address except for the twins who I actually haven't heard from in months." Val shakes her head. 
"Do you think it's something serious?" Joe asks sitting up, intrigued by what that letter held. 
"Must be if they sent it to your house and not mine, my store or any of my other friends houses." Val says ripping the letter open. 
Val starts reading the letter which was starting off first by apologizing being sent to Joe's house but that they couldn't find her address anywhere online and was scared that if it got sent to the store it would end up in someone else's business mailbox instead. Which Val found very weird but she continued reading. As she read the next line her heart sunk and felt her eyes water. 
"I hate to inform you that dad has been involved in a car accident two weeks prior from when I'm writing this. He doesn't seem to be progressing at all, therefore mom is going to make the hard decision to take him off life support tomorrow. Though, we felt the need to tell you, we ask that you do not come to the funereal nor contact any of us. We've seen you in the tabloids and still don't approve of your life choices and out of respect to god, the church, the family and most importantly dad it's best if you don't come. We don't need any shameful people around us during this hard time or someone to take the attention away from dad." 
"Val...Hey, Hey...what's going on? Breathe." Joe says to her as he runs up to her and catches her as she falls to her knees at the news she just read. Val lets out a sob as Joe tries to console her and get her seated on the couch. Not being able to barely breathe let alone talk, she hands the letter to Joe and he reads it keeping one hand on Val and rubbing her back as she cries. 
"I'm so sorry Val. This is isn't the way they should've told you." Joe says hugging her tight and kiss her head as she cries. 
"I probably already missed his funeral since this was sent a week ago. Why would they do that?" She sniffles shaking her head. 
"If you did, that's entirely their fault. They know what they were doing sending this letter, they could of called, sent this to your actual house or business or even gone to your store in person...instead they sent it to my house not even knowing if it would get to you two weeks after your fathers accident in which they didn't contact you. This was malicious on their part, you did nothing wrong." Joe says feeling nothing but anger over this situation for Val. He couldn't believe they would treat her this way but it became clear why Val separated herself from them.
"I-I should go home. I'm sorry for breaking down like this here. I should of opened that letter at home or something." Val says quickly getting up and wiping her tears, desperately trying to get herself together. 
"What?! No--Val, you're not driving while you're emotions are hitting you like this. You're still processing this." Joe says shaking his head and Val sighs. 
"I just know things aren't okay between us and going through this here--
"That's not important right now, what's important is that you stay here and not get behind the wheel while you're crying. I'm going to get you water, please just stay here and take a breath." Joe says sitting her down again and she just nods beginning to cry again. Val didn't couldn't believe that letter. Still processing everything from her fathers accident to him being taken off life support to her family asking her not to come to the funeral because of who she was was just something she couldn't believe but hurt like hell. It proved that she was yet not healed from her past with her family.
"Here." Joe says coming back with a water bottle. Val takes it and takes a few sips. 
"Is there anything I can do?" Joe asks sitting next to her. 
"Get me a time machine so I could tell my parents not to have me and spare everyone the disappointment that I am." Val sighs wiping her tears. 
"Don't say that. Just because they have a problem with who you are doesn't mean you don't have people around you that love and support you. Plus, you've basically built your own family, you have the girls, Mateo, Kade and Elsa...Me and my family." Joe says hesitating on that last part. 
"I don't even know how your family views me right now so I wouldn't count them in there." Val shakes her head. 
" They haven't said anything to me about it so...well my mom obviously asked about what was going on cause she knows we're together but she didn't comment on anything else. My dad is never one to get into my personal relationships so..." Joe shakes his head. 
"Still doesn't mean anything." Val mutters. 
"Why don't I draw you a nice bath? I'll go pick up some food in the meantime while you soak." Joe says patting her knee. 
"You don't have to do that." Val shakes her head. 
"You need it, c'mon." Joe slowly pulls Val off the couch and they make their way upstairs letting the letter on the couch. 
"You still have clothes in your drawer, I haven't touched them." Joe says softly as they enter his room. 
"Thanks." Val sniffles heading over to where she always kept her clothes.
Joe headed to the bathroom and filled up the tub for her while she chose some clothes. Her mind was having a million different thoughts about what's happened. Though she was heartbroken over the news of her dad she was also incredibly angry at how it was handled. She couldn't stand the way her family has treated her since she came out in college. Val makes her way to the bathroom where Joe was making sure the water was a perfect temperature and the tub was getting filled up. 
"You can get in while it fills it takes a bit, did you need anything else? I haven't restocked on your wine but I can get you something else..." Joe asks as Val set her clothes down on the counter. 
"I think this moment calls for one of your vodka tonics." Val smiles. 
"Woah...I haven't heard those words since you opened up Pixies." Joe says making her chuckle. 
"I know it's a dangerous thing to say but I really need it." Val sighs. 
"You're wish is my command." Joe smiles leaving the bathroom. Val undresses and realizes she still has the markings from Summer on her body. Shaking her head and setting that aside she steps into the warm bath that smelled like lavender. Val feels herself relax into the semi filled tub and soon enough Joe comes back with her drink. 
"Here." Joe smiles handing her the drink. 
"Thanks." She smiles back taking a sip of the ridiculously strong drink. 
"Jeez, did you put any club soda in that?" Val shudders as the liquor runs through her body and sort of gives her a shock. 
"You knew what you were asking for. I put a lot of ice so just let it water down a bit." Joe says squatting down to her level and turning the water off for her. There wasn't many bubbles in the tub so Val saw Joe's eyes lingering on her body thought the soapy water. 
"What did you want to eat?" Joe asks clearing his throat. 
"It's Sunday evening so everything closes pretty early...whatever is open is fine. No healthy stuff though, I need good savory comfort food."  
"I'll be back, call me if anything. Make yourself at home." Joe says giving Val a gentle kiss on the head before leaving. It felt nice for Val to have Joe there for her. This was one of the things she couldn't complain about when it came to him. He was always there for Val when she needed him the most with no questions asked. Relaxing in the hot bath and downing the drink she eventually gets out and takes a quick shower being one of those people that can't just take a bath first. 
After her shower, drying off and draining the tub, she gets dressed and heads downstairs taking the glass that was now empty. As she washed her cup, Joe comes in with the bags of food.
 "So I got us sushi, and I stopped to get us ice cream. Hope that's okay!" Joe says smiling at Val. 
"That sounds really great. Thank you." Val smiles back. 
"We can put on a movie or whatever you want." Joe says setting the bags down to put the ice cream in the freezer.
"Sure." Val nods. She grabs water for them both from the fridge and make their way to the living room. 
"So, what do you want to watch?" Joe asks after they settle on the couch with the food. 
"Um, something funny I guess." she shrugs taking a bite of the spicy shrimp tempura roll. Joe turns on Superbad.
"I saw that you went the pride parade, how was that?" Joe asks failing miserably to use his chopsticks like usual making val laugh. 
"It was fun. Everyone had a goodtime." Val nods. 
"I saw that Summer went...you guys were posting on instagram" Joe says. Val knew she was going hear something about about her come from Joe eventually. 
"She was." Val says nods eyeing Joe. The last thing she wanted right now was to get in an argument with Joe about Summer again after what she just learned. Her emotions were way to high right now for that and she knew it.
"Is she...at least making you happy?" He asks softly and Val sighs. 
"Joe, I really don't need this right now." Val rolls her eyes.
"I'm not mad or trying to start anything. I just want to know she's at least treating you right given your history with her and having your own complaints with me" Joe says, he seemed genuine. 
"We only messed around once after that fight we had, we're not dating though and she's been fine to me. No drama. There, happy?" Val answers truthfully. 
"Very." Joe smirks which annoyed Val. 
"How about you? Any girls you've brought back here and shown them what a night with America's QB heartthrob is like?" Val asks trying to annoy him.
"Nope. Those nights are reserved for you." Joe smirks. 
"and Sofia the baddie ig model." Val nods popping another piece of sushi into her mouth pretending she didn't see Joe's annoyed face when she said that. 
"Okay...maybe I see how asking about Summer and throwing her in your face could be annoying." Joe says making Val snort. 
"But, since we're on the topic of girls and I still have my list of questions of you..." Joe trails off, Val sighing preparing for what's about to come out of his mouth next.
"Is it true that you guys can last for hours during sex? How is that even possible? How come you don't last with me that long?" Joe asks making Val almost choke on her food. 
"We technically can...but it's courtesy of the strap and we take breaks and then go back and forth through the night until we can't anymore and...I have no problem lasting that long but you on the other hand..." Val sips her drink and Joe looks in complete shock. 
"If that's the case...why the hell are you dating men? Let alone me." Joe mutters that last part. 
"Because that's how bisexuality works, I like all genders...and what do you mean let alone you? You're the only guy I've been with that actually gives a fuck about getting me off every time we have sex." Val snorts. 
"Do you have one?" Joe asks as he eats. 
"A what?" She asks confused. 
"A...strap or whatever it is you guys call it." Joe clears his throat which made Val laugh at his awkwardness. 
"I think... I have my harness somewhere at my condo, as for the toy itself...I have to get a new one." Val nods. 
"I saw that they had strapless ones." Joe nods and Val does a double take towards him hearing that. 
"Have you...been researching lesbian stuff!?" Val says rather loudly and clearly embarrassing Joe seeing his face turn a light shade of pink. 
"And by researching I know it's just porn." Val teases him. 
"No. I've actually been on educational websites for your information. I was wondering about the stereotypes. " Joe defends himself. Val thought it was actually very cute that Joe was educating himself about stuff. Most men would just ask when the threesome was happening and call it day.  
"Can I ask if you have a preference? Like do you prefer having sex with women or more with men?" Joe asks. 
"Overall, I say that I wouldn't. But there's certain things that I appreciate about both that's different." Val admits. 
"Like what?" 
"Well with girls I like the softness of it, the foreplay is usually on another level and the after care is really nice too. Plus there's a different sense of comfortability with women knowing they have the same parts as I do and know how are bodies are naturally. Also it's a plus that they're more on top of stuff like their status and there's no risk of pregnancy. " Val says and Joe nods. 
"And with men?" Joe asks seeming to be nervous to ask about it. 
"Well, my prior experiences with men were all college guys so I'm not gonna go there but with you specifically... I like how strong you are with me and assertive you are. Also getting to actually...feel you inside me is something I can only experience with women to a certain extent. Plus moans from any gender are hot but the list goes on for both, I just like what I like. There's really no competition here, we at least between you and any other woman because I've heard of plenty hook up stories from Gen with guys"  Val shrugs making Joe chuckle.
"Thank you for talking to me about this stuff...I know it's weird of me to ask this stuff." Joe says sheepishly. 
"Like I said before, if it's in good faith and you're being genuine...I don't have anything to hide. I appreciate you being respectful about it and not with stereotypical things like other guys would probably do." Val smiles.
 They both finish their meal and start paying attention to the movie that was already a good chunk through it. They eat their ice creams after finishing the dinner, Val still thinking of her dad and family, still figuring out how to navigate this situation from here. 
"You can take my room... I'll sleep in the guest room. Give you some space." Joe says as they clean up the mess of food in the living room and take it to the trash in the kitchen. 
"Oh you don't have to." Val shakes her head. 
"It's not up for discussion, I'll finish up here. You should go get some rest." Joe smiles and Val just nods. Even though it wasn't even 9PM yet, she did feel exhausted after the news she had received today. 
"Thanks, I'll uh see you in the morning...goodnight." Val says giving Joe a small smile which eh returns. 
"Goodnight." 
Val head upstairs grabbing her phone and goes into Joe's room. She uses the bathroom quickly and gets into the comfortable bed when there was a small knock on the door as it opened. 
"Thought you'd like some water." Joe says bringing her a water bottle and setting it on the nightstand. Val thanks him and he goes to leave when she grabs his hand and stops him in his tracks. 
"Stay...please." She says softly and Joe gives her a look of sadness and pity before he gently nods. 
"Let me just turn off the hall light." He says squeezing her hand. Val nods letting go of him. Coming back into the room, Joe this time around doesn't say anything about Val being on his side of the bed and just turns off the light and gets in bed next to her. Val cuddles up to him inhaling his familiar comforting scent that she loved so much and Joe places a few kisses on her head as he slowly and gently rubs her back as she lets sleep take over, feeling fully comforted and cared for by the person who has her heart.
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A/N: That was heavy chapter! But BF Joe showed up 👀
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violexides · 1 year
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i have never met another Iraqi person that wasn’t family in my entire life and i have never had a Muslim community whatsoever in school online or otherwise and I have to introduce myself as Middle Eastern (if at all since some places still call me white) instead of Iraqi and that people will still guess me being from 10 different ethnic backgrounds over Middle Eastern and that everywhere i go there is permeating Islamophobia that i never really know who my allies are because at the end of the day 9/11 jokes are “more important” than the Islamophobia that followed the event and attacking Christianity with Islam as collateral is “more important” than addressing how suppressed Muslims are in the western world. getting time off for Christmas is “more important” than giving a single day absence from finals/AP tests for Ramadan just one day much less the whole month.
people are more concerned with slandering every Muslim than addressing the fact that there are authoritarian theocratic regimes that kill non-Muslims and addressing that a religion can be inherently harmless and still be used as a weapon by regimes. that forcing people to believe in anything is wrong, what is happening in these governments is a human rights violation at the minimum, and that Muslims out the world are not singlehandedly at fault. but hey whatever makes white people feel performative about human rights crises. 
(speaking of human rights crises, there’s a genocide of Muslims that is still happening in China. by the way. that nobody has talked about.)
this isn’t the best wording I’m a little pissed right now but i have been. SO isolated my ENTIRE fucking life. people are only willing to accept Islam for as long as they can to look like an activist and then immediately call me brutal in the face of trying to look performative elsewhere
i’m so sick and so tired and so exhausted of my religion being something to hide. of not being allowed to write about it in college essays because i don’t know who might read it. of having to smile and nod when people call me Latino for the thousandth time even after us knowing one another for 3 years. of trying to tell someone i’m from Iraq and them going “oh like ISIS!” (thanks for that one, zeke.)
i have privilege in this country because i know it is so much worse elsewhere but im so sick and im so tired and I would give up everything in the world just to meet another Iraqi person. and not have to cling to the same book of a short play about Iraqi women in an attempt to substitute for that connection.
okay to reblog. encouraged to reblog, but do whatever the fuck you want its your blog. ps i know that other religions/ethnicities experience intense aggressions too but please do not derail this post. thank you.
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Merry Christmas, My Love | Jake Kiszka
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Merry Christmas Eve for all who celebrate/Happy Holidays to everyone! Thought I would post a little christmas coziness with Jake to mark the occasion.
Warnings: None, all christmas fluff!
Word count: 1.4k
Playlist: 
The Christmas Song (Merry Christmas to You) - Nat King Cole
"Jake," I hummed, shaking my boyfriend's shoulder as I lay in bed, just having woken up. Jake groaned but simply rolled over, dragging the majority of our grey comforter with him.
"You can sleep in on any other day of the year, it's Christmas morning!!" I insisted. "Santa came!" I added when he just grunted again.
"Santa isn't real," he argued from where his head was buried in a pillow.
"Okay, that's rude. “I huffed. He just gave a lazy grin in response, eyes still closed. “Fine, I guess I'll just have to open gifts on my own because there is no way I'm waiting on your lazy ass," I said, flinging the small amount of blankets I had left off of me and pulling on a sweater of Jake's that was carelessly strewn on the dresser.
"Well hold on," Jake insisted, his head popping out of the mound of blankets. "Just give me a minute, it's probably like 6 am," he complained.
"It's 9 o'clock," I laughed, turning the clock to face him for proof.
"Whatever," he rolled his eyes before his head disappeared again.
"You are... unbelievable." I grinned and shook my head. If he couldn't get up, then I would carry on without him. He would join me eventually. I made my way to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, peppermint bark flavored, as well as pulled out some bagels to toast. As the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted its way around the house, I heard some banging from the bedroom and a curse followed swiftly after.
"You okay?" I called, my eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"Yeah, this dresser fucking attacked me." he yelled back.
I smiled, "Wow, well tell it to stop or it's gone in the next yard sale. No hostile furniture in this house."
"Hear that you bloody piece of wood?" I heard him ask the inanimate object.
After I had plated the bagels and placed both them and two mugs of coffee in the living room, Jake padded down the hall and stopped in the doorway. "Hey, come take a look at this." he called me over, leaning in to look at the door frame until his face was nearly touching the paint.
"What's up?" I asked, coming over to stand in front of him.
"It's right there," he said pointing to a spot on the wood.
"I really don't see-" He cut me off by standing up straight, grabbing me around the waist, and pulling me in flush to him. My arms when up to his to grab for balance.
"There's nothing on the wall," he said simply.
I raised my eyebrows, "Oh really?" I asked sarcastically.
"Unfortunately not, but there is something above us. What's this? Looks like mistletoe" he asked, looking up. The sprig of mistletoe I had put up two weeks ago and forgotten about loomed over us.
"Real slick," I assured him.
"I try to be," He slid his hands up to the back of my neck and gently pulled me in. The kiss was slow, it was a quiet morning and the soft fall of snow. It was perfect.
He pulled away after a moment, "Now what were you going on about presents?" He asked.
I smirked, "Well since you asked, I want you to open yours first. I've been waiting months without telling you, but I'm about to just blurt it out if you don't just open it." I insisted, pulling him to the couch where he sat, and I dug under the tree for his gift.
"Okay, now I'm nervous," he murmured.
"Me too, I hope you like it." I said, finding it and handing it to him.
It was a thin, square package, obviously a record or two, but I had sandwiched something between them as a surprise.
"Hmmm what could it be?" He teased, taking it from me as I sat down on the couch next to him.
"Open it and find out," I said. So he did, ripping off the paper and tossing it to the floor.
"The Nat King Cole Story? No way, that's awesome. It has all our songs on it." He said picking up the first vinyl and flipping it over to see the back with the list of songs.
"Thank you. I love it," he said, putting the gift down to wrap his arms around me in a hug and kissing the side of my face.
"You're welcome, keep going." I urged.
"Okay okay." he laughed, turning back to his gift.
He placed the vinyl on the coffee table and went back to his treasures. On top of the next vinyl was a printed receipt for a hotel as well as two plane tickets.
"What's this?" He asked, picking them up to inspect them.
"Well, we just loved Australia so much, and we talk about it all the time, yet we didn't get to do all the things we wanted to with your touring schedule and me having to leave early, so I took a look at your calendar and saw you had a break in the spring. So I got to thinking and I got us tickets to go back to Australia, but this time, just us two and entirely for fun. I mean, if you want to that is..." I waited for an answer, but he just stared at the tickets in his hand. "I got insurance just in case you don't want to go and it was really just an idea." I rambled getting nervous.
"Absolutely not," he responded, his head whipping up to look at me. "We are going on this trip, are you kidding? This is like the best gift ever!" He said dropping the papers on his lap as he tackled me back to the couch. He squeezed me tight and said thank you over and over as I laughed and told him he was welcome.
"I can't breathe," I whispered finally after he had calmed down.
"Oh sorry," He apologized, pushing himself back up and reaching back to pull me up by my outstretched hands.
"So I take it that you like it?" I asked, wanting to make sure before I got my heart set on Australia.
"I love it. Thank you so much." He smiled at me.
"Good, one more thing," I said pointing to the last vinyl that got thrown to the coffee table in his rush to thank me.
"Oh right," he said picking it up and pulling off the rest of the paper.
"Arctic Monkeys," he read aloud. "I love them," He said, flipping it over to take a look at the back. "Thank you." He said, placing it on the coffee table with the rest and getting up. "Your turn," He said giddily.
"Oohh," I giggled, reaching for the wrapped gift he handed me after a moment.
"I don't know it you'll like it, but they seemed like you and I just couldn't resist," he explained as I tore away the paper.
It was a shoe box and when I flipped up the lip, the most glorious satin, multicolored boots stared back at me. "Shut up!" I exclaimed, picking the top boot up and feeling the smooth texture. "I love them! Thank you so much, Jake. They are perfect." I said putting it down and it was my turn to tackle him.
He simply laughed but quickly pulled away. "That's not all." He said getting back up.
"What?" I asked, wondering what else it could be.
"Here," he said sitting down and handing me a small wrapped box. I pulled off the wrapping and saw that it was a jewelry box.
I opened it to find a delicate oval locket inside with an intricate floral design etched into the face.
"Open it." He urged.
I undid the clasp and opened it to find a picture of Jake and me from our one-year anniversary a few months ago, taken in front of our favorite restaurant in Nashville as we smiled into a kiss.
On the other side was an aging white petal tucked into the metal.
"What is the flower from?" I asked, my finger ghosting over the side of the necklace.
"It's a petal I saved from our first date. That was when I knew you were the one so I saved some mementos." He shrugged.
"Jake..." I trailed off, at a loss for words. "That's so sweet," I said, my voice cracking from emotion. "Help me put it on?" I asked, standing up and holding out the necklace.
He stood up and took it, so I turned around and gathered my hair so he could see. His fingers were butterfly wings on the back of my neck. After he had clasped it, his arms found their way up around my shoulders and pulled me back to lean on him. We were facing the window and watched the snow start to slow its descent, but still leaving the ground covered in a fine layer of white fluff.
"Do you like it?" He asked.
"I love it," mimicking his answer from earlier. "Thank you".
"You're welcome, I'm glad you like it," he answered.
"I really do, Merry Christmas Jake." I told him.
"Merry Christmas, my love," Jake said back.
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danceswithdarkspawn · 3 months
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Find the Word
Uh. Hello. I haven't done one of these in a while. Also I got slapped twice by @oceangirl24 and @fattybattysblog so thank you lovelies for that. Gonna do both in one go so lots of words.
Words given: chowder, clatter, visage, eternal, skeptical, irate, juggernaut, lime, superhero; reach, blood, metal, snicker, smirk, cough, hack, slice
Words for others: bird, nova, twilight, rain, fire, harsh, quiet, echo
Gonna Open Tag this because I think all my usual tagging suspects have played, but if you see this and would like to play, go ahead!
Two of Swords:
She took little pleasure in the mundane return routine she established months ago, something she did to calm her nerves after long hours of travel. The scrape of a brush across her gelding’s hide reminded her of shifting sand underfoot. Maker, she was sick of sand. The training yard’s clatter told her of Inquisition forces crashing against Adamant’s walls. An errant war cry from some children playing in the garden transformed into a dragon’s Red Lyrium roar, and she swiftly left for quieter spaces.
Broken Bird, chapter 3:
Leliana’s voice breaks me from my reverie. When I meet her eyes, they are brimming with a question. The fire frames her features, leaving no space hollow. There is something there in her visage, something beyond that of an unwitting Chantry Sister; a knowing that I cannot quite describe. Her eyes are piercing, staring through me, and I can feel my throat tighten. “Then why are you afraid?”
Stricken Canticles:
Reverences thick with the haze of sleep spill unendingly from her lips; her fingers leave trails of eternal flame in their wake. But she succumbs, spent, leaving me to marvel at her form in the wan light.
I’ve never been keen on religion. But I would defile this place again and again if only to worship her.
looooots of reaches Griffonheart Bonus Chapter:
Her boot hit something solid, and the back of her knee nearly buckled against some piece of furniture, and she sighed. Finally, Leliana thought, reaching back to catch herself on what she expected to be the edge of the bed. She instead found the back of a couch. It'll have to do, she thought, grabbing Ariel by the collar and collapsing onto it.
also lots of blood, for example, Broken Bird, chapter 9:
Morrigan laughs. I look up to find her staring down at her bandaged hand, fussing with the cloth. “Truly, I would never have guessed that a Grey Warden could have such an aversion to blood. Did you not imbibe darkspawn blood to become what you are?”
“What you did was blood magic,” I hiss. 
“Maybe it was,” she admits. Her arms recross, and she eyes me critically. “‘Tis a skill of Flemeth’s, and it served well, did it not? She will always bear the scar, but the wound is closed, and she is not at risk of infection.” Morrigan’s eyes search for a moment. “Why? Would you have preferred I did nothing? What if it spread to her blood? What if—”
...also a lot of metal, sensing a pattern, Broken Bird, chapter 10:
A scream echoes throughout the chapel, loud and bitter and rattling. Akin to a dragon; the dragon that watches with unknowable eyes. My fists feel raw against the floor, catching shards, pulling my hair, flailing against anything and everything. Bone breaks, glass shatters, metal groans underneath an ire that could destroy me utterly.
Broken Bird, chapter 11:
“You look like you’re in love, is all.”
My throat closes and I sputter, spewing out the drink. It hisses and flares dramatically against the fire, creating a torrent of flame in its wake. My throat, eyes and nose sting as I cough into my elbow. When I glare over at Eran, his expression is split between concern and mirth, but he breaks into laughter after a moment. “Fuck you,” I mumble into my arm.
Also from chapter 9:
“I have not told you to do anything.”
“Then what the fuck do you want?”
“‘Twas never about what I want, Warden. What do you want?”
I recoil. I can’t think past the scathing words that hack away at my throat, threatening to spill free. There is plenty I want, more things than I care to describe, or think about, or anything else. 
But more than anything, I think I want silence. I want its comfort and its peace. Things I’ve not known in a lifetime. 
“I don’t know.”
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x-i-l-verify · 3 months
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20 Questions For Writers
Was tagged by @kuraiarcoiris and decided why not. :V
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
35. I have more on other sites, but since I've made my AO3 account, that's how many I've posted there.
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2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
656,547. Give or take a couple thousand.
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3. What fandoms do you write for?
Currently? Dream SMP. But I also have an Inscryption WIP and a couple Kpop WIPs that I really should get back to one of these days. orz But I've written for all sorts of fandoms over the years.
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4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
5) Its Suffering Was Real [Inscryption]
This is the one that came as the biggest shock to me when I went and looked at my kudos count in preparation for this write-up. Like, really? People like the fic where I torture the sassy robot trapped in the body of a stoat for 7k words that much??
4) A Shoulder to Lean On [Avatar: The Last Airbender]
WHERE did all these people come from, I have like 6 comments on this thing (not counting my replies)??? I mean, I'm flattered, but ??!!?!
3) Accepting Amelioration [Voltron: Legendary Defender]
I mean, it's a Voltron fic posted back when the fandom was in full swing, it doesn't really surprise me the kudos counter is considerable, though I am still surprised it got that much traction considering the fic is gen and not shippy. Am still proud I made the first daemon AU in the entire fandom, though, if this is my claim to fame, then I'm ok with that. :p
2) Temporary Shelter [Astro / VIXX]
I seriously have no freaking clue how this little self indulgent Kpop crossover fic became so popular, I really don't. I mean, Kpop crossovers are niche at the best of times, and these two groups aren't exactly the most popular Kpop fandoms on AO3 if you know what I mean. It basically started as "wouldn't it be fun if my two favorite Kpop groups were secretly friends all this time? How would I have that happen, tho?" and then snowballed from there. I, uh. I'm glad so many other people like it, ig? 0_0
1) Paved with Pawprints [My Hero Academia]
Of course it's the MHA pet AU fic. Of course. OF COURSE-
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5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Absolutely. It's only fair I reply if someone takes the time to read on my work and actually give me feedback about it, wouldn't you say? Plus, like most authors, I enjoy talking about my own work, so sue me. >:p
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6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don't usually do angsty endings; I prefer happy or at least bittersweet ones. I guess by default, it has to be the fic where I slowly killed off America and China from Axis Powers Hetalia for 13k words, while the rest of the cast had already been dead for centuries at that point. So yes, the entire cast of that series was dead by the end of that fic. :))) IN MY DEFENSE, ok, I was actually trying to give them a bittersweet ending by reuniting them with all of their old friends and family by finally letting them rest after so long alone, but it still turned out really sad. TT TT It's basically my only fic where I can't go back and reread it more than once every couple of years, because I still end up a sobbing mess by the end.
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7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Well, I guess that's what you define "happiest" as. The most cathartic? The one with the least amount of trauma and extreme bodily injury incurred by the characters? 🤔 I guess by the latter definition, it would Kaleidoscopic Perceptions, a very fluffy USPH college AU that I actually enjoyed writing a lot despite me not usually enjoying romance or college AUs.
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8. Do you get hate on your fic?
No, thankfully. I've gotten a couple kinda weird comments, and of course the obligatory "It's been X months since you updated were you aware?????" comments, but no outright negativity.
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9. Do you write smut?
LMAO. Absolutely not.
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10. Do you write crossovers?
Yes! I really love crossovers. I have a few common fallbacks that fit with a lot of fandoms (daemon AUs, Firefly AUs, etc.), but I also enjoy fandom-specific crossovers when I can figure out how to pull them off.
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11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
No idea. I hope not!
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12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Just once for this Gravity Falls fic.
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13. Have you ever co-written a fic?
Yes. It had a few ups and downs, but it was overall a really positive experience, and I think it turned out really well!
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14. What‘s your all-time favorite ship?
idk that I have an ALL TIME favorite ship, especially since I hardly ever ship anything, but Frobin is pretty choice, I gotta say.
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15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Er, none of them, hopefully? I hope that I eventually get to finish all my WIPs at some point, even if it might take me awhile. >.>; But I suppose if I had to pick ONE to abandon, I'd probably pick Written In, my D&D Inscryption crossover AU. I like the IDEA for it, but writing it out is like pulling teeth, and after the first installment where the party gets together, I don't really have a lot of ideas on where to take the plot. :/ Like I have the general overarching idea but no plot structure or anything but small disconnected story beats.
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16. What’s your writing strengths?
I like to think I do a pretty good job with descriptions while not bogging the story down too much with too much detail?
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17. What’s your writing weaknesses?
Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh, staying motivated ig. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if you're asking my weakness about mechanics, though, uh... exposition, I guess? Dialogue in general, sometimes.
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18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
If there is actual information included in the other language, then you better provide a translation. If it's just for flavor, though, have at it.
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19. First fandom you wrote for?
TMNT, specifically the 2003 show. It's never been posted anywhere on the internet and never will. :)
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20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?
Becoming Real, a Kpop fanfic based on VIXX's Voodoo Doll MV. However, it can easily stand on its own as its own original work. I consider it the most accessible story I've ever written, and it also was just very easy for me to write. Writing is often like pulling teeth for me, but not this story.
Tagging: @breezy-cheezy, @quicktothebatjalopy, @hiding-in-the-vault, @variablememory, @bleue-flora, @theriu
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mightbewriting · 6 months
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20 questions for fic writers
thank you @eveningstruggle for the opportunity to procrastinate this morning!
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 32
2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 696,261
3. What fandoms do you write for? hp: mostly dramione, but with a whole heaping of miscellaneous other ships
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Wait and Hope
Season Pass (To This Ass)
Beginning and End
A Season For Setting Fires
Lie With Me
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
once upon a time i responded to all of them bc i'm so stupidly grateful that anyone decides to read my work. and i've made some of my best fandom friends through comments. but over time the mental load (replying starts to feel weirdly disingenuous bc of the repetitive nature?? trying not to constantly repeat myself was a wildly unexpected amount of work) and the time commitment (so surprisingly high??) made it such that it was a decision between responding to comments or getting more writing done. i picked being able to actually write new stuff. these days i feel deeply self conscious about replying bc i do it so rarely, and when i do (especially if someone has been leaving the most lovely, thoughtful, regular comments) i feel like more often than not it seems to scare them off?? but i read all of them, i swoon, and i appreciate them more than folks could ever possibly know. there are comments i've gotten that have saved me from scrapping projects, that have turned my whole mindset around on a bad writing day. precious gems, every last one of them.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
hmmmm. probably Intimate Transactions, mostly bc i see people reading it as un-hea surprisingly often. i intended it as hea, with the ending representing a new beginning for both of them, but i concede that i left it just open enough at the end for folks to interpret it as them going their separate ways. both readings are valid, i just didn't intend for it to be read as quite so angsty at the end lol.
whenever i get around to finishing it, Thirty-Seven Years will have the angstiest ending just bc it's canon compliant and...well, the canon story is a bit of a tragedy. but we're not there yet lol.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
lol the vast majority of them. aside from Thirty-Seven Years, as mentioned above, i think everything i write as mightbewriting is hea. i prefer a happy ending, especially one that's hard won. so even if something is incredibly angsty (looking at you A Season for Setting Fires), my preference is almost always to have that angst earn us a happy ending.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
sure do
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
i do, and whatever kind fits the story? i guess? sometimes that's more smutty smut, sometimes that's more romantic introspective smut. just depends on the story i'm telling.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
nope
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
at this point, i've lost track of how many times. twice in the last month at least.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
i have! it's SO cool that we have so many people in this fandom able to translate works and make them accessible to a whole new demographic of readers!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
once, accidentally lol.
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
dramione
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
i'm a compulsive project finisher, though i certainly wish my pace could be what it once was.
16. What are your writing strengths?
imagery, pacing, realistic dialogue, and economy of words.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
idk how to describe this but like...luxuriating in a story more? i'm often so succinct in my 'every word must serve a purpose' ways that i miss opportunities to better set a scene and indulge in the little things that flesh out a world and its characters.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
is this a contentious thing? i see it on things like this a lot and i have literally zero opinions about it. like, you do you. i think i've done this before? still have no strong opinions about it lol.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
🤐
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
this really depends on the day, i think. i couldn't possibly pick a definitive favorite from all my babies.
tagging literally anyone out there who wishes to do this! i think i'm pretty late to the game so if you haven't been tagged and want to play, go for it!
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stilemawillow · 2 months
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MTIJ | Ch.29 Dear Diary, Why Do I Have Feelings?
|mtij masterlist|
pairing: levi ackerman x reader
word count: 7.9k
summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.
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he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will mean some falling and she's afraid of heights r.i.d
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Vacations. Something so planned yet at the same time unplanned. Going to the beach was one thing, something unexpected happening as a result of that – another altogether. Vacations were meant to please, excite, aid the successful achievement of relaxation and all sorts of good things, only good things, good things all over. Mountains were fresh air, beautiful landscapes and so so many opportunities to stargaze. Beaches were sand, breeze, cocktails, hot girls in bikinis and seagulls all around. None of that sounded like it could do any harm, no? Of course not. Vacations were meant to create memories and be fun, a break from a dreadful 9-5 routine. So why wasn’t I having fun?
I got it! I got it! Asshole-me piped in an overzealous manner inside my throbbing head. It’s because who you like to think of as our asshole is in this picture with his hand around this blonde bimbo’s bare waist. Bingo. Jackpot. Bullseye. All those pleasant victories in life. A million dollars in cash falling out of a slot in a casino. Somebody winning a poker game. An old lady in a godforsaken village with too much time on her hands getting a check for half a billion. World peace. A child saying its first word, making its parents cry out of happiness. All my overdramatic self and I could do was cheer till my throat hurt. Inwardly, of course. Because you’ll never ever admit you’re jealous, asshole-me remarked. Well, no, but I couldn’t embarrass myself by throwing a tantrum in public either – I was Rolland Raven’s daughter and, in his presence or not, wouldn’t allow disgrace to befall our manipulative family and its name.
I stared at my phone’s screen with pursed lips and fervent eyes. The image my shrunken pupils couldn’t unglue themselves from featured a small beach bar. Palms in the far back, a child on its way to trip in the bottom left corner and a seagull eyeing its inanimate victim in the upper left one. They seemed like good pizza rolls. In the centre, like a Renaissance painting, stood Uncle Nick and Uncle Terry, George Tanner Senior – the bearer of the pizza rolls, my obviously sunburnt father, Natalie, a guy who I guessed was IT based on how dreadfully skinny he was and of course, Levi. The intern was on a small stool with a drink in one hand and a pretty little girl pushed into the other. Her bikini-clad breasts were pressed against his naked chest and her bright smile struck me as immensely fake all the way from New Jersey through the phone I was gazing at. Levi’s twitchy fingers were hesitantly ghosting over her skin, but had I not paid attention to the detail, I would’ve immediately assumed they were pretty close if not straight-up dating.
You’ll wonder what of that wasn’t fun for my pretentious highness and I’ll tell you that maybe it’s the one where my father was the one to send me this picture instead of the intern who I’d been texting for the past two days non-stop. Or maybe the part where the raven-haired asshole hadn’t once mentioned the blondie to his right during those two days. Not wishing to be overdramatic, I kept looking at my phone with a listless expression instead of scowling for being held in the dark about some random chick the intern had met on their vacation, but I could feel my stare growing emptier as my interest in today’s good weather and opportunities to have fun gradually evaporated.
“I ordered the drinks,” Adam said while sitting down across from me. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” His voice snapped me out of the trance. I placed my phone face-down on the table. There were no benefits whatsoever to us looking at the stupid picture so there was no use in showing it to the world either. I smiled as a nasty ball of phrases got stuck in the back of my throat. Ignoring it, I tried to be as benevolent as possible considering I had literally nothing to be mad about. Levi was just an intern, just a friend. The girl next to him and their relationship were none of my business. I wasn’t his girlfriend or secretary.
“I’m sure.” I nodded. Adam huffed, tucking a wavy lock of his ebony hair behind his ear and making me sigh on the inside. Usually, I’d make fun of Levi for not sending me the picture himself, tease him about the blonde and feel absolutely nothing because that’s how it’d been between us. We did things and whether the other liked them or not was unimportant because we didn’t feel much for each other. Now, of course, here came this thing – I didn’t want to ask and tease, too fearful of ruining his vacation by repeating all over again past mistakes of shoving my nose in personal matters.
“You don’t look too well,” Adam remarked, icy blue orbs scanning my face. I kept smiling and it might’ve made him uncomfortable enough to dismiss the topic altogether. He didn’t make a second comment on it. My hands played with the silver on my ring finger, cold and reassuring. As if.
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The next day, to nobody’s surprise it would seem, my mother took her leave with a bang grand and startling enough to make my eyelids snap open faster than the speed of sound. A grunt left my parted lips and I slapped a hand to my face to use as a comb. My bladder called for release, but my body decided not to function, so I ended up tumbling to the floor and greeting it with a kiss. Not a good start to any day. My eyes teared up and my wrist hurt, and I could feel my left leg was still on the bed, strangled by the sheets. It took me a minute and a few curses to get up and make an appearance in front of the bathroom mirror.
I washed my face and combed my hair, then approached Levi’s room with a nonchalant call of his nickname only to choke on a horrified gasp at the sight of the empty interior. Half-asleep mind going back to the strange dream I’d had, I stared at the dust coating the parquet and the pristine bed covers with vacant eyes. I closed the door slowly, heavy sigh slipping out as I reached the conclusion there’d be no need to make Earl Grey today along with my coffee. It left a bitter taste in my mouth to break a routine like that. Felt weird, too. Weirder even than the fact I’d made both drinks instinctively this Tuesday after they’d already left.
I would’ve taken my phone to the kitchen if it hadn’t been for the disappointingly low battery percentage that forced me to leave it to charge in my room. In five minutes, I was sitting at the marble counter with a steaming coffee in front of me, zoning out and pondering the fractions of my dream I could recollect. My bedroom had been stuffy and the hallway had been glowing with early sunlight. An instinctual turn to the guest room. Empty insides. I’d looked through the wardrobe for his clothes, searched for the books he stacked by the desk, the paperwork he always assembled neatly on top. There had been only dust.
I could recall sitting on the bed and opening the nightstand’s first drawer to find a glistening silver ring inside. Not the one I wore. The one he’d been supposed to wear and had probably thrown out. Then there was my father materialising at the doorstep, telling me to get out, breakfast was ready, my boyfriend was waiting downstairs (not Eren), my lecture was starting in an hour. No intern. He’d left long ago. He’d left long long ago. No trace of him anywhere.
I put down my coffee with a snort, letting the cryptic paranoia win. My feet padded up the stairs to the guest room despite the raw cynicism begging to spill from my mouth. I barged into Levi’s room and opened the wardrobe. It was full of suits and long-sleeved shirts, pants and T-shirts folded neatly and laid at the bottom. Half of his books were stacked in alphabetical order by the desk and there was no paperwork on top of it, but the pedantic color-coordinated arrangement of pens made up for it. I sat on the bed and looked around – the golden glow matched that of my faded dream, but the air was still heavy with Levi’s lavender shampoo and strong cologne. My hand reached for the nightstand. I didn’t know what I was expecting or hoping for, but the theatrical display was cut off by my own coarse laughter. The derision in it was great enough to make my fingers withdraw.
Nothing, nothing, nothing. I’m going fucking crazy. I tumbled sideways onto the pillow and sighed. God, so we finally agree on something! Asshole-me made me scoff. I stayed just long enough to feel the immense need to leave, overborne by the realisation the intern wouldn’t enter and scold me for invading his privacy or question the whereabouts of his morning cup of tea. With all my insolence, I took a brook from the pile by the desk and returned to the kitchen, ready to start the day with some French lessons and a dose of caffeine. I was in the middle of the second chapter, where the main heroine was telling the story of how she’d gotten smitten with her late husband, when I heard my muffled ringtone echo in the empty house. My memory served as a bookmark and I rushed upstairs to answer the call without checking the ID. I expected Adam, Annie, Melinda or even my father, but asshole-me insisted otherwise. Neither of us believed he’d be calling.
“How’s my princess doing at six in the morning? I hope I woke you up.” It was weird. Weird, refreshing and warm somehow. He sounded bored. No other way for it to go. I bit my bottom lip and snorted. I had a role to play here.
“You did, asshole, much like you do every other day.” My white lie probably went unnoticed because he only huffed, satisfied with himself. I faked a grumpy voice while asking: “What are you doing up this early?” It wasn’t curiosity. It was carrying the conversation.
“Making myself a tea and your father – a coffee. He’ll need it after yesterday’s cocktails.” His heavy sigh signalled to me who’d been the responsible babysitter while everybody else had been drinking. Uncle Terry and Nick loved to get carried away. Levi had enough experience with babysitting anyway. I wondered whether he’d tucked any of them into bed and whether they’d been wasted enough to commit atrocities, but asshole-me put the questions to rest by taking the wheel.
“On the topic of cocktails, my caring father didn’t forget to inform me of the White Woman you drowned. Tasty or is blonde not for you?” My back was leaning against the wall as the raven on the other end of the line clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. I imagined his face – sunburnt, scowling and tired. Maybe the lilac crescents would still be visible. If they were, had the pretty blonde noticed?
“Hold back the malice, princess. The cocktail was a Grasshopper, whatever that means, and the girl is an intern that flew in from Germany. Your father probably forgot to tell you that.” I felt the irrational need to roll my eyes so hard they got stuck in the back of my head and saved my all future conversations about this other intern we’d most certainly lead. I attempted, failed and fixed my gaze on the TV.
“Like he forgets to tell me he loves me. Both still seem pretty significant,” I shot out condescendingly, making Levi sigh. 6 a.m. or not, I wouldn’t let go of my demeaning confidence. I paused, thought of the tiredness in his voice and gave a sigh of my own. “Since I don’t want to ruin anything for you this early in the morning, I’m just going to say I hope you’re having fun. Don’t think about work. It’s not what you’re there for.”
“Interesting you should mention work. How’s the job at the supermarket going?” I decided not to take it personally after the conversation we’d led this Monday. I knew at least one passive joke awaited.
“Balanaces out as always. Okay paycheck and a not okay boss.” I shrugged, avoiding the mention of Adam’s name and waiting for my raven-haired friend to slip him into the conversation himself. We hadn’t talked about it properly. Maybe we had to at some point. Or maybe not, I squeaked mentally. A serious talk about Adam and I would result in nothing at all. Worse, likely an argument.
“And your suitor?” It was expected, light-hearted and unbothered as could be. I tried to picture his face but something hindered the image. I concluded the less I reacted, the less he would make such comments, hence why I refrained from sighing or making a sour face at the wall for fear he’d sense.
“Adam’s also fine, thank you for asking. He took me out yesterday,” I informed casually. Then again, I hadn’t meant to. I panicked about it, asshole-me shrugged her shoulders in oblivion and we both anticipated the intern’s reaction, knowing the spoiled princess points might’ve been boosted to a 40/100. Levi, however, did exactly what was expected of him – no more and no less.
“So now I get to call him your boyfriend?” The mocking inquiry didn’t harm my pride, but it made my defences rise. Maybe it was the unreasonable dislike for the word I harboured, still considering it a title only Eren was worthy enough of.
“You’re insufferable. No, you don’t get to call him anything besides his name because we’re not together.” My tone was spiteful, I was shaking my head, struggling not to glare or overreact. The joke didn’t deserve a temper tantrum, much less actual anger. As the mind-reader he was (or simple a good judge of conversations’ quality), Levi sensed my tone and took a risk by diving into unexplored territory.
“Maybe you should be. I don’t think even Leonheardt would blame you if you started dating. In most cases, you need a new guy to forget the old one.” The calming voice over the line I matched to a pair of beautiful narrowed eyes, ashen hues pinned to the floor. The advice towards the end had been strangely soft, almost knowing, as if having been tested, failed, succeeded and acknowledged. My heart clenched but I didn’t let it show.
“Thanks for enlightening me, Sherlock, I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I sassed sarcastically, making the raven sigh. Alongside the sound I imagined a pale hand going up to his hair to brush it away from his face. I moved the phone away from my ear to huff before pursing my lips with a half-hearted glare. “Also, you’re literally the last person I want to hear this from. I could start pushing you into getting with every girl that hits on you, but I don’t because I’m a good friend,” I boasted fakely, making the raven-haired intern snort in mild condescension.
“A best friend, rather. Only a friend wouldn’t comfort me as passionately as you have.” It was an accident, I could tell, but it made my windpipe constrict. My mouth clamped shut in shame so similar to fear it was uncanny. On the one hand, he was clueless how his albeit correct grammar in English added a nuanced subtext to the sentence. On the other hand, he was right. “Sorry. I know you don’t like it when I---” He tried hitting the pause and restarting but it was too late. I’d already turned into a ball of insecurity and I’d rather resent myself than him for it.
“Yes, I don’t. It’s whatever, no need for apologies, asshole. It happens, we slip. If I apologised for every time you didn’t like something I said we wouldn’t be talking at all.” My voice was nonchalant and it spoke of benevolent forgiveness but I could feel my resolve crumble while looking at the wall our rooms shared. A slimy ball of distaste formed in the back of my throat, crawling up to the tip of my tongue when I heard an ecstatic female voice call Levi’s name in the background. I spat the ball out and it hit the phone before dropping in my lap. “Sounds like better company has made an appearance. My highness better go.”
I hung up before he could respond, heart hammering and eyes closing in exhaustion. This wasn’t how the call should’ve gone, but it was inevitable, as with every other conversation we’d led. My shoulders slouched as I tried not to think about the happening at the hotel they were staying over at where the beautiful blonde had called Levi’s name in a way I’d never get the guts to. I remembered the photo and my shoulders tensed. She looked like a supermodel, just shorter. The perfect girl you come across randomly. You pass her on the street and hate yourself for not talking to her, but know you would’ve fumbled it even if you did. You see her in the background of a selfie your best friend sends you from the airport – a stranger that’s gorgeous in and out of the picture. You wonder what her name is. You remember her from time to time, give her without her consent as an example of the fact God has favourites. That type of looker. If attraction overruled duty, I might take second to last spot by the end of this vacation. Then again, why should I care?
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“We need to talk.” Annie’s gaze was made of steel and her resolve had chained me to the table before she’d even spoken. My eyes briefly darted up from my phone to observe her somber countenance prior to dipping again in impatience. Levi hadn’t texted me once today after the phone call. I’d been sure he would. Now I was starting to doubt my judgement.
“What about?” The little icons on the screen pissed me off. The lack of notifications pissed me off. Why? I wasn’t sure. The fact I was frustrated pissed me off too. I put the phone on the table face-down. My best friend’s eyes were an icy hue I seldom enjoyed crossing paths with and her arms were folded across her chest, like a strict mother about to scold her child.
“Ackerman.” The surname immediately made me think of Mikasa, which, in turn, brought Eren to mind, but before I could say anything, Annie cut straight to the chase: “Do you like him?” The pronoun made me switch gears, but while I was busy processing, asshole-me took the reigns and spoke instead.
“Excuse me? Do I like him? Annie, have you gone mad?” My tone told the long tale of how offended I was to be asked that. I blinked at the blonde across from me, hoping to have misheard her but it was a petty attempt at avoidance – there was nothing wrong with my hearing and Annie hadn’t stuttered. She rolled her eyes before brushing her bangs behind her ear with a scoff.
“I’m perfectly sane and my question is logical when you think of all that’s happened between you two in the past few months,” she reasoned calmly, almost coldly so, in a manner I recognised as impatient to get this whole topic over with. She crossed her legs and stared at me with a self-assured pout. “Now give me an answer.” The command was imperative enough to mak me bite back whatever I’d planned on saying. Attacking her and dodging the question would prove her point, so I took a deep breath and resorted to the truth. How humiliating.
“… I don’t.” The pause made the blonde quirk a skeptical eyebrow, but maybe it hadn’t been the pause at all – no, it had been the words after it. My gaze locked with hers and my composure didn’t falter once. “I mean it. I thought I did for some time. Even back when Eren and I were together. It was a fear of mine, that I might like him, but I was proven time and time again that it wasn’t like that. It hit me hard around my birthday but…” My eyes dipped to the table as I stopped my hands from impulsitvely reaching to fidget with the pendant of the necklace Levi had given me.
“But?” Annie pushed, gentle and cold, not exactly willing to believe just yet. I understood her. Truly, I did. I’d be the same in her place, but I had the unfortunate luck of being in my own, confused but adamant to give her a satisfactory honest answer. No, I didn’t like Levi. I liked to think I did, but Eren was still on my mind. Levi was the perfect thing to keep him away. I was manipulative and disheartened, needing a way out of the emotional tangle I’d gotten myself into. A pitiful smile crawled over my lips.
“But I can’t like him. I mean, I don’t. I’m not jealous of Petra or Natalie, or his current blondie. I’m sad because I enjoy his attention. I got used to it and when it’s not there, I get frustrated. That hardly translates as liking him. If anything, I’m using him, which is, again, pretty villain-y of me.” I bit back a sour chuckle and looked up at Annie with her elbows propped on the table – she’d picked it up from Erwin. Her expression was worried.
“Are you sure?” She inquired softly, but I was capable of sensing the urgency in her tone, like she couldn’t hold back her latent joy. This had been the answer she’d hoped for, not the one she’d expected, and she didn’t like that it was too good to be true, too cold to be me, too easy to get to be honest. I had no way or intention of making her doubts dissolve.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. There was a stir in my chest. Guilty conscience. Or something. I didn’t know.
“Because you just avoided answering me,” she retorted, making my smile widen as I snorted in satisfaction. I loved it when Annie tried to be all clever and insightful with me, and I had to admit it worked most of the time, but now she was following a gut feeling she couldn’t back with proof.
“I have Adam to distract me and I’m still sad when Eren gets mentioned, so I don’t think I have the emotional capacity to fall for my father’s intern at the moment, much less when he’ll be leaving in four months. I’m neither that dumb nor masochistic,” I explained as plainly as I could, hoping to get through to her and save us further worries and questioning. My smile had tamed its smugness but Annie was clearly set on pushing me into a confession of something I’d hardly considered a possibility.
“And you still make out with him and act like you’re a couple.” The statement, in a world where I was raised by Jared Raven, would’ve left my mouth and slapped Levi across the face. But this wasn’t that world and I was the one who got slapped. Unfortunately, it was insulting of Annie to say it but, fortunately, it didn’t upset as much as I’d anticipated it would. Maybe I’d accustomed to thinking it, too and having asshole-me rebuff it completely, much like she’d rebuffed the whole concept of me having romantic feelings for Levi. The same mean voice that told me I had weeks, in the beginning, before falling for him. A brain of her own, always going against me.
“We’re not a couple and the physical contact is because I don’t have Eren and I don’t want to be whoring around, throwing myself at Adam,” I justified with an innocent expression. Annie’s resolve was shaken to the point she reclined in her chair and groaned in obvious defeat, making me bite back a smirk.
“Fine, you’re my best friend and I choose to believe you, but I assure you nobody else would, no matter how convincingly detached your arguments are.” I threw her a conceited look and she snorted prior to meeting my gaze, a new question at the tip of her tongue. “On a similar topic, Ackerman’s somebody who can get chicks wherever he goes, but he only has eyes and ears for you. Sounds like love to me.” Her nonchalant manner of stating it only proved she was yet to change the topic and went about pursuing answers a different way.
“Sounds like care to me. He’s told me he cares and just this morning we re-established our friend labels, so I’m hardly inclined to believe he has feelings for me other than that.” I shrugged, reluctantly leaning back and tilting my head at Annie challengingly. She was far from manipulating me into admitting anything, but she thought otherwise, as shown by the next argument she blurted out.
“So what’s his excuse for kissing you?” Oh, how sardonic a question. She was smirking and I tried not to give the reaction she awaited – embarrassment and being flustered on the topic of something I myself considered confusing. I took a big breath and flashed a big benevolent smile before licking my lips in mild spite. Innocent until proven guilty, so please let me be innocent despite the evidence.
“Ask him, not me,” I countered calmly, knowing Annie was bluffing to check how vigorously I’d defend myself in case I’d been lying for the past few minutes. She was disappointed, to say the least, almost making me smile at the weird reaction. Any person in her stead would beam in exultation.
“All I’m saying is,” she began diplomatically,” you’re oblivious dumbasses and you need to start noticing it, taking into account how intelligent you are otherwise.” Her position remained in the same spot. Levi and I were idiots, who, in her opinion, liked each other. How stupid a notion. I might’ve had my period of infatuation, but my father’s intern would never get to his and that was something I believed as unconditionally as I’d believed in the Tooth Fairy as a kid.
“Oh, shut up. I don’t want to hear this from you, Miss No-I-Won’t-Accept-Erwin-Likes-Me-Until-He-Straight-Up-Offers-Me-Marriage,” I drawled mockingly, making the blonde snort so violently my nostrils gave hers their condolences.
“Go suck a dick.” My best friend’s love confession came in its usual harsh manner, so cordial and forced it made me laugh before I shot it down.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to teach me how first.” She threw herself across the table at me, pretending to choke me while seething with embarrassment. I cackled and the bullet was dodged when she joined me. Some questions were answered. I only hoped I’d given the appropriate answers, not the versions best suited to my pitiful nature. But manipulating myself into believing something I knew was a lie wasn’t possible. Right?
Later the same night, I received the following message:
I need a break from this vacation.
If it wasn’t obvious enough who it was from, clearly enough attention was not being paid to the whole of this. When my father’s intern texted me, I was brought back to my conversation with Annie. I’d been honest with her. I knew the signs of liking somebody and they were nowhere to be found. No butterflies, no heart palpitations, no obsessiveness, even normal things like a healthy pinch of jealousy were absent.
You’re a fucking idiot, asshole. Who gets tired from relaxation? I pressed send, absent-minded and thoughtful, trying to compare my feelings for Eren to those for Levi. I wasn’t dumb – I knew different kinds of love existed, but if I had to measure scores and grade my own feelings, those for Eren – albeit faded – still won. Strange.
I obviously do. I don’t feel comfortable wasting my time like this. I picked up my phone when it dinged, letting me read the ridiculous reply. How introverted and workaholic of him. Both traits were justfied, though. Everything about him was justified by past experiences whereas with Eren the unexplainable was also unexpected, always a surprise. The spurts of rage in our junior year, his unreasonable obsession with boxing, his fits of suspicion and accusations, the tic he developed back in middle school – all things I couldn’t explain no matter how much I analysed them.
What do you say about a movie marathon when you come back? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to rid you of even more work. I sent the text and dropped the phone on my stomach, plopping back on my bed with a sigh. Levi was different from Eren – his whole character was a set of action-reaction workings. I was poor as a child with a mother who worked too much to clean – so let’s be obsessed with everything being clean. My mother’s my reason for living, she’s sick and money’s the solution – so let’s work myself to the bone. Attachments hurt because I’ve gotten burned and I dislike them – so let’s be hostile to everybody to prevent them. If I do it, it’ll be done right and it’ll succeed and if not, only I’ll be to blame – so let’s be a control-freak. Petra’s death and Kuchel’s condition were things he blamed himself for despite that.
It’s a deal if you leave the organisation to me. The message snapped me out of my daze. I was thankful he hadn’t called me because he’d most certainly ask why I sounded weird and I didn’t want to explain it was because I was admiring the way in which a machine with so many broken parts worked flawlessly enough to deceive the majority.
Oh, no! I don’t know what I’ll do without my right to make popcorn and pick the movies. The sarcastic reply didn’t match the expression on my face. You know mom and dad will be visiting their usual hotel around that time, right? Double-texting – oh, the humiliation.
Doesn’t make a difference. First, there was something warm in my chest. It was cute how, bit by bit, native English speakers were corrupting the strict Subject-Verb-Object structure he’d been taught at school. Then, there was that other thing. He was lying. I wondered if he also felt a little pinch when I lied to him as well. I doubted it. Wouldn’t have an inch of skin left to pinch.
It will for me because I’ll be able to scream at the TV. The short reasoning left me staring at the ceiling mindlessly. The buzz of Levi’s reply distracted me. I processed now what we’d been texting about. A movie marathon sounded good. The fact he’d agreed was good too, slightly suspicious taking into account he’d most likely want to work instead, but still good.
Fine. Day of return or the one after? It was unlike Like, this question. I didn’t dwell it on and hummed in thought before deciding I didn’t want to think anymore at all. My head was about to blow up with all these feelings I was trying to decipher.
We’ll decide on the move. I think you should be going to bed now. A headache was pushing at my temples. The best course of action was to cut this short. He’d rest and I’d fetch myself an aspirin from my father’s office. Sweet dreams, asshole. I was staring at the message, characteristic but not sarcasic, when his reply popped up – longer than expected. Also wittier and slightly flirtatious, upon further observation.
Make sure yours have me in them. I have to babysit you constantly, after all. Goodnight, princess. I blinked at my phone for the overall of ten seconds before turning it off and pressing it against my chest. A wondrous grin pulled at the corners of my mouth. No signs of love – no butterflies, no giddiness, no accelerated heartbeat. Why the smile though? I buried my face in my pillow. My feet kicked around.
“(Y/N), stop squealing in the middle of the night! I don’t need this six hours before my alarm rings!” My mother’s reproachful shriek made my feet halt in the air as if held up by invisible strings. I hadn’t realised I’d squealed. I propped myself up and clamped my mouth shut in shame. I didn’t know what got into me, acting like… like this, whatever this was.
“Sorry, mom!” I called sheepishly, having done the damage already. I plopped down but there was no squealing this time. There was only more of that grinning I didn’t understand. No lies there. It frustrated me that I didn’t know myself well enough, wasn’t smart enough to understand it. Pointing out the many things I lacked, however, didn’t help me understand it either.
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“I watered the garden, baked a fucking batch of cookies, roasted a whole-ass chicken, cleaned the whole house and I’m still bored,” I groaned into the speaker and Levi took some time to process everything I’d said. True to my words, I’d started the day with a shower and a deep-clean of the house. Once all the germs had been annihilated, I’d decided to cook, then when the house stank of food and I’d opened the door to the backyard, I’d seen the rose bushes were in need of watering, which was exactly what I’d handled next. Now I was bored out of my mind, a pair of sunglasses perched atop the bridge of my nose as I lied in the grass, looking like I was about to invent a new kind of snow angel without the snow.
“Good afternoon to you as well,” the raven-haired intern greeted flatly. I only groaned again, eyes straying towards the roses surrounding me and the pool to my left – beautiful but not entertaining. I pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose and scratched the back of my neck where the grass tickled it.
“Good afternoon, asshole. I want you to tell me a story.” The command was met with silence, muffled waves crashing into sand, some clearing of the throat, a single sigh devoid of positive emotions and the cry of a hungry seagull. I cringed, nose scrunching up at the noise before it made me realise Levi was on the beach, probably lying on a towel and dealing with me instead of having fun.
“There was once an eighteen-year-old princess who---”
“An actual story,” I cut off quickly, not appreciating the sarcasm. The raven snorted in that specific way I knew was always accompanied by a narrow of his eyes. I wondered if he had sunglasses on and if he did – would they leave a ridiculous mask while the rest of his face reddened in the sun? Maybe he’d put on sunscreen. I couldn’t help smiling at the image of his red nose and on top of it – a thick layer of white cream. The thought – logical even in being unreasonable – that followed made my smile turn upside down. It went like this:
If he’d applied sunscreen, who’d been the one to get his back? The pretty German blondie?
“It is an actual story. I thought your highness liked being the main character.” His mockery put my train of thought back on track only so it coud then start a self-deprecating game of Cards Against Humanity with asshole-me. Funny how I was isolated to the point I had to listen to my own conscience insult me.
“I get tired of being me. I don’t want to listen about myself right now,” I said pointedly. Maybe I was jealous he was on vacation with my father when I had to stay at home and be a self-taught maid on minimum wage of zero dollars per hour, but I couldn’t help it – the intern had gradually shifted our family’s dynamic and it frustrated me that he’d managed it in less than six months without even trying.
“Fine, something else is it then,” he concluded with a sign of defeat. I listened intently, pressing the phone closer to my ear. “I really wanted a pet when I was younger, but my mother said we couldn’t afford it. One day, there was a downpour and I was returning from high school. Tucked by the entrance was a drenched kitten. Meeting you reminded me of that.” The small addition made my eyes close in mild bashfulness at the expected softness in his voice. He cleared his throat and proceeded while I imagined him in the grass next to me though he’d refuse to sit down. “Anyways. I took pity on it and took it inside. I kept it a secret for a whole week before it took a shit in the middle of the living room and blew our cover.”
“And Kuchel?” I bit back a chuckle at the conclusion of the story. I could imagine a young Levi bathing and taking care of a little black kitten (no other colour made sense), having to shush its meowing as he went to sleep because his mother could hear. It was a cute little picture, an ebony-haired teenager feeding a charcoal-coloured ball of fur in secret. The notion seemed simple and pure. A small act of kindness which had formed a bond.
“What do you think?” He asked, voice devoid of snark. As brief as my conversation with Kuchel had been, I gathered she was probably the kindest and most selfless person I’d ever talked to. Needless to say, she’d passed down a big part of that to her son, but he, defensive and skeptical, had decided to cover it in multiple layers of indifference and reluctance. He saved it up, but his mother gave it away like she had an endless reserve.
“I think she agreed to keep it. She probably pulled the usual parent-speech and said it would help you become more responsible,” I said, confident in my logic but earger to receive confirmation. It reminded of a childhood memory. Hitch and I had been arguing and I’d run to my father for support, only to be told I’d been wrong. Bawling in outrage, I’d felt my father’s hands take mine as he prompted me (“Come on, princess. Anything at all.”) to say something. The only thing six-year-old me had come up with (“I love you.”) had been typical and childish. His smile had turned into a grin, soft and ground and his response (“That’s right. And I love you, (Y/N), because you’re my most important thing, not because you can subtract numbers.”) had made it one of my fondest memories of my father, so uncharacteristically loving it could make me laugh now.
“It doesn’t take a lot to figure out my mother. Yes, we kept the fur ball and I took care of it for a while until Isabel’s allergies made us give it away. My best friend – Farlan – took it in.” The explanation prompted a mental note of the name I hadn’t heard until now.
“What did you name it?” I piped, realising I’d missed the most important part of the story. Levi kept silent – strangely so. He was hesitant, I realised, probably because he didn’t want me to hear it. If I had luck, it would be something stupid and cute, like Mr. Snuggles or Fufu.
“… Pluie.” The pitiful yet stoic utterance came as a shock, the rude awakening that he, too, had been a naïve teenager once upon a time. I laughed so loudly I heard a bird take flight from the branch of a tree a few feet away. My stomach twisted in amusement.
“You seriously named the cat rain?” I spoke between fits of giggles, sensing Levi’s annoyance rise to boil on the other end of the line, like a kettle threatening to burst. My ear became collateral damage as a result of the spillage.
“I was a fucking fourteen-year-old, don’t give me shit about that,” he scolded, imperative tone with an embarrassed tinge that only made me laugh harder. I rolled around the grass, clutching my phone with one hand and my abdomen with the other. I imagined Levi’s constipated expression – tired and as far from amused as a face could go – with his sunglasses on his nose and the breeze making his locks sway slightly. I wondered if he’d give up on me completely and end the call, but he waited for me to calm down and speak again instead.
“… I love it,” I concluded warmly after a small pause. He sighed but I couldn’t pinpoint the kind of face that went with it. A smile stretched my lips when an idea hit me – so innocent and naïve it couldn’t go unspoken. “If I visit France someday, I want to see him.”
“He’s a really vicious cat, but I’m sure you’ll get along since you’re both spoiled,” he hummed, nonchalant and in the mood to humour me. I snorted, a bitter smile surfacing as I gazed up at the sky – so beautiful it annoyed me to look at. It was a strange logic, but the blue reminded of the specks and thinking of them reminded of the fact I couldn’t see them, wouldn’t see them for four more days. I let my lids drop to avoid the sight.
“Very funny,” I stated, a scornful type of ice dripping off my tongue – as fake as my Aunt Petunia’s smiles if not directed at darling George. I paused, reaching for my sunglasses and let my thoughts drift in a brand new direction. “If you had your own house one day,” my voice was curious like a child’s, “would you take Pluie back?” I needn’t ponder the answer because he’d give it any second now.
“Of course. He might be an annoying fur ball I’ll constantly have to clean up after, but he’s a good companion.” I imagined him still lying on his towel, warm sand tickling his feet like the grass tickled mine, with his firm gaze glued to the horizon. His expression wouldn’t fit the sunscreen smeared on his face, making it almost comical. I wished to bear witness to it. Alas, I was in my backyard, rolling around in the grass like a dog and praying not to die of boredom. The roses and the empty pool kept me company, but neither provided comfort – Levi’s voice was there for that.
“I don’t know why but imagining you with an animal is nearly impossible,” I half-mocked, half-admitted, hoping he would come to notice neither. Instead, he noticed both and, as always, wasn’t one bit moved by the lack of subtlety in the tactless display.
“That’s because Pluie is the only animal I tolerate. Others require too much care and effort. Some are also exceptionally nasty,” he explained, simple and succinct, and him to the point it made my smile like he’d told a joke. My lids fluttered open and I lifted my left hand to my face. The silver band reflected the sun into my narrowed eyes.
“You sound like a terrible person when you talk like that, asshole. Thank God for Pluie,” I joked, mesmerised by the ring’s sheen. Holding the phone between my ear and shoulder, I took it off and held it up. When I squinted, the miniature circle seemed to encapsulate the great blue sky and all its clouds. I speculated, like a scientist on the brink of a great discovery, if this was how majestic everything would look as seen thought the silver band. The house would be a palace with sculptured and paintings, the garden – a vast field of exotic flowers, the roses – whole worlds of aroma, the plain grass – God’s rendition of the most simplistic of loveliness. It was either the wonder of happiness borne of marriage or just a hallucination my mind graced me with prior to a stroke.
“I hear you judging, but you’re not an ardent animal lover yourself.” Levi’s words made me blink like somebody had clapped their hands in front of my face, waking me from a trance. The silver ring slipped from my hold and rolled in the grass. I mindlessly propped myself on my elbows to look for it.
“That one wasn’t up to me. I wanted a dog when I was little, but my parents were too busy almost getting divorced to care and when that died down, they didn’t trust me enough with a pet. By the time I got into high school, I got used to the idea. That’s that.” My hands roamed the ground, feverishly seeking the ring. My panic dissipated when I felt it – an instant sedative.
“If you come to France, I could let you take care of Pluie,” the intern suggested ever so kindly. I collapsed next to my fallen sunglasses, slipping the ring back on my finger with a huff. The urge to be leading this conversation with him face to face was burning, insistent and annoying.
“Your offer is too generous. I doubt there’s a future for me in France besides being Pluie’s caretaker and that wouldn’t pay much, would it now?” I mocked weakly, voice soft and casual.
“I’ll make sure I support you properly, princess. It’s only my duty as your friend.” The stiffness in his timbre was odd, like something having found shelter in the wrong place. Maybe the universe was laughing at my expression or maybe it was just the echo of asshole-me cackling so hysterically she almost choked. Served her right. I was silent and tense all over and the intern was attempting to become the one snack I couldn’t afford to have. I was on a fucking diet for fuck’s sake. Then there was that voice again – the perfect blondie – calling his name.
“And I can hear your new friend calling in the back. We should probably---”
“Hold up. Don’t you dare hang up like last time,” he cut off my haste, threatening without actually telling me what the consequences would be. “We’ll talk about this when I get back. Don’t jump to conclusions, princess. Understood?” He was the strict babysitter and I was the child, even though I didn’t feel like one. I felt like I did that one time Eren told me (“I don’t see the point in me flirting with others when I have you.”) not to worry about other girls, when he held my hand and looked into my eyes, promising (“I love you so fucking much you have no idea.” “Die for me and all that jazz, yeah?” “No. I’ll live for you because that’s way harder.”) he loved nobody but me. Only me.
“Understood, asshole. Have fun.” I smiled despite the little gnawing feeling at the back of my mind. I felt calm and at ease when he hung up even when the blondie kept calling his name. I trusted him like I trusted Eren because he’d had eyes only for me. Little spoiled me. How I’d fucked us both over. How mean. Levi, I was sure, didn’t have eyes only for me even if Annie would argue herself to the moon and back disproving it, but I trusted him just as unconditionally. That part was my own duty.
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tag list: @unloved-cadillac ; @donaldthrts
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neallo · 10 months
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So...................... i Mello holds Near hostage in one of your fics, WHICH ONES IS IT?!
LMFAO i love the energy of this ask. thank you. extremely chaotic but also endearing.
to answer your question: the fic you're thinking of is i want to hold you (hostage), and it hasn't been posted yet!! i'm still finishing it up, though it's about 3/4 (I HOPE!!! it's already 16k words 🫣) of the way written. i want to, at the very minimum, start posting it by the end of meronia week; i expect it's going to be about 3-4 chapters. i'm not going to try to describe it in depth here, as i'd rather keep some elements a surprise, but it's a canon-divergent story centering around Mello during his mafia era, and it takes place about a week or so before we see him show back up in canon.
just for fun, i'm going to toss the first few paragraphs below ❣️ there's also a playlist you can find here, if you just want to get a sense of the vibes ✨🎶
————
Mello wakes to the sound of his 9:00 AM alarm going off, the mid-morning sun throwing stripes of light across his bedsheets from how it peeks through the gaps in his blinds. His hand gropes towards the clock on his bedside table, clumsily seeking out the off button as he blinks sleep from his eyes. The beeping ceases, and Mello sighs, sagging backwards against his pillows again. He can’t recall what he dreamt about, though from the lingering wistfulness clouding his mind and weighing down his limbs, he could take an educated guess.
His apartment is quiet; he’s alone. Every single morning since he moved to LA, he’s woken up alone. The only exception was a little over a month ago now, but that wasn’t in this city or this apartment or this bed, which he supposes he should be grateful for. It would have been worse if Mello had seen his face in this light, his cheek resting against this pillow, the curve of his shoulder peeking out from these sheets. In the quiet, Mello’s own minuscule movements sound loud, as does his breath. Normally it doesn’t bother him, but some days it’s more noticeable than others, and today is evidently one of them.
After a few more minutes of soaking in dilute, nebulous angst, Mello forces himself to get out of bed and go to the kitchen, puts on a pot of coffee and sets about making himself breakfast. The window over his sink faces a busier street than the one in his bedroom, so the silence is a bit thinner here, miscellaneous sounds leaking through the old glass. It helps ground him a little. He’d picked this apartment specifically for its soundproofing, because the last several places he lived all had paper-thin walls, while the brick construction here means he can’t hear his neighbors fucking or people on the sidewalk below shouting at each other. Obviously he prefers it that way, but the silence is foreign after so many years of living in an orphanage teeming with other noisy children and a good year and a half after that spent either sleeping on the streets or in run-down shitholes. For a short period of time after moving here, Mello entertained the idea of getting a cat, mostly so he would have something living and moving around in the same space as him, but it seemed selfish to bring a fragile creature into the kind of life he leads.
Of course, that didn’t stop him from trying, once. Not with a cat, but with—
His coffee starts to brew, mercifully interrupting his train of thought before it could go off the rails. As he cracks an egg into a hot, buttered pan, Mello calculates what time he needs to leave to make his flight. Just thinking about it soothes him a bit; in three hours, he’ll be boarding a plane to New York, and in six more, he’ll have landed at JFK. The sun will have set on the east coast by then, and by the time he gets to his hotel, he should be ready to sleep. Dreamlessly, if he’s lucky.
(Mello has been short on that specific type of luck, lately.)
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wigglebox · 2 years
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Hi! I always wanted to ask, even if its a silly thing, but I never saw an artist with your style and I think its really cute that your dean and cas have such bitable noses (they just look so fluffy). Where did it came the idea to make them like that?
hi!!!
lmao omg biteable noses i haven't heard that one awlefjawlkejaw i love it so much. why boop when you can boop with your teefs!
so i waited to answer this until i was back on my computer to basically say: idk!
but the longer answer is i was always interested in making the nose the focal point of the face. all my art style journeys always made sure i would put the nose for you to see it and always make it red lol.
i haven't drawn in a few years, about 3 years, until last fall and i wasn't happy with my style anymore. it felt too morose when i was just wanting to feel happy because the world around me is just meh and blegh every day, my job is stressful, and i wanted something to just keep me happy.
this was my art 3 years ago
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and i liked this style -- but it was also limiting for me bc it just always made me feel less vibrant and just more quiet and a little sad
but over the last 7 years these were styles i would do for a drawing or two every so often while i was still trying to figure my style out until i arrived at ^ 
I think this one is the closest one i can get to now 
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but there were other attempts:
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i thought it was a limiting style though because they don’t have a fully drawn eye and the noses kind of reminded me of a newspaper comic strip i used to see growing up falled Funky Winkerbean. I don’t know why -- their noses definetly aren’t like this -- but whatever pfft. 
But I still found the lack of eyes limiting, and that these were too cutesy, but also i couldn’t figure out how to make it constantly work so i just abandoned it and went back to my normal stuff. 
like i said, i hadn’t drawn for a few years but last october, i was feeling frustrated not being able to find the proper motivation to do winchester-relod’s Suptober challenge so i doodled this dude [by now i didn’t have my tablet and so any time i sporadically drew since 2018 i just drew on my phone]
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and then idk people thought he looked cute?
and then i drew this a few days later:
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with these tags: idk I am feeling squishy and gooesy this Saturday and want a hug, Jennifer why are you drawing big noses, because I have no idea bht it’s fun
lol
and i guess it just kept going from there? people thought it looked cute, and i thought it was warm and happy and it made me happy to draw it. 
obviously looking at the art even from 9 months ago the style has changed as i figured out what i wanted to do with it [and invested in a little ipad to draw on instead of drawing with my finger on my phone lol]:
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So Idk really! 
I think I am sticking with this for now [sometines doing a slightly ‘normalized nose’ from time to time] because 1) y’all encourage me with your very kind words 2) it makes ME feel good to draw them like this -- like idk i never am like UGH with a drawing 3) it’s just fun! 
really it’s one of those things where for the longest time i’ve been trying to take inspiration from so many styles around me because I just didn’t know how to define myself as an artist, and then i just wasn’t drawing as much anymore once i DID settle on style from a few years ago -- to now just wanting to smile any time i’m creating something so if it makes me smile, my goal is to make others smile lol. 
a driving factor for finding my style before was like ‘how do i make this edgy and emo if i wanted to?’ because at the time i was still experiences lows. 
and now, i still experience lows [spoons, mental health, yadda yadda] but instead of drawing the sadness out, i wanted to draw something that’d bring the smile back at least in my mind lol. 
and nothing makes me happier than smacking my hand into my ipad trying to honk their noses and then hearing messages from others [like yourself] who find the noses cute as well! 
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thevulcanbobdylan · 2 years
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Let me try that again: I mean 9 for the first part and 18 for the second 😁
9. "I'm all yours."
18. Tracing lazy circles over someone's skin
So I know this was supposed to be about feels, and not about smut, but I've been really blocked lately and I'm trying smut as, like, a healing device. You know, as one does...
***
Getting up from the sandbags had been a tall order. It wasn’t a matter of muscles gone stiff after a long day of sun and walking, a long night of dancing. Nor was it a matter of equilibrium thrown out of balance by warming booze and that damned tantalizing herb. Those things in combination were certainly reason enough not to rise, but the real obstacle, finally, had been a tender nipple between his teeth, gone taut with the brush of his breath, and the sweet taste of skin freshly uncovered from beneath red cloth…
She had rebuffed him, not seriously, but laughing a little at his persistence, running her fingers through his hair as she’d pushed him away. When he met her eyes he found her flushed - blushing, even - and smiling sincerely.
“You want me to stop?” he’d mumbled, not really bothering to fully remove his mouth from her bare skin.
“Take me to my tent and I might just beg you not to,” she countered, and then he was upright (not to mention upright) faster than a viper pilot after a fresh bump of stims, stiff muscles be damned.
Not long after that, she'd proved as good as her word, urging him on in husky tones that drove him wild with need; that thwarted his efforts to make this culmination of their long-ignored tension last forever and then some.
At least he’d managed to get that nipple back between his teeth briefly, followed by its twin, and then, at long last, her other flushed and sensitive nub, slicked wet with her desire, and then by the devotions of his tongue, and finally flooded by the sweet moisture of her protracted climax.
Later, after he’d resisted the inevitable as long as booze and herb and months of frustrated desire would allow, they collapsed together, forced into an intimate closeness by the narrow cot that served as her bed, legs interleaved. He brushed a tendril of red hair off one freckled shoulder, considering her skin, pale enough that it almost glowed in the half-light cast by her dim lantern. He lingered over the gesture, stroking swirls and circles down her arm and up her back, marveling at the feel and the sight of her.
She hummed into his chest, an inquisitive sound.
He nuzzled her hair in response. “That was fantastic.”
Seemingly content beyond words, she only hummed again in agreement.
“Thanks for a wonderful evening, Madam President.”
He meant it half-jokingly, but she made a clear sound of disapproval, still not lifting her head. Then she sighed, fingers toying pensively with his chest hair.
“Bill.” She paused to consider her words. “Don’t you think it’s about time I left that title behind?”
He smiled and gave her a little squeeze. “Easier for you than for the rest of us, maybe. It suits you.”
He felt, rather than heard, her resigned little laugh. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.” She tugged at the curly hairs between her fingers, drawing a wince from him. “But maybe I’m ready to move on - to be something else.”
Not wanting to let her get away with her teasing, he let his fingers travel up her ribs to pinch her nipple again, and she gratified him with a sharp intake of breath.
“So what are you gonna be next?” he asked, rolling the hardening nub between his fingers.
She pulled back, disrupting his ministrations, and looked him square in the eyes, one palm planted on his chest.
“That remains to be seen,” she said, with a firmness that indicated the discussion was over. “For tonight? I guess I’m all yours.”
If he’d harbored any intentions of slipping back into decorum and flirtation, they were undone by this profession, and he surprised them both by flipping her under him and capturing her lips, past responding, past speaking, past anything but making her mean it, claiming her as his own for as long as the deep dark of New Caprican night would allow.
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luthienebonyx · 2 years
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For the fanfic asks: 7, 9, 12? (Super nice to see you here again! ❤️)
7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?
Finishing The Hidden Language of the Soul is top of the list (whenever the dam finally bursts and the words start flowing again). I know exactly what else happens in it. I've just got to write it.
Just that. 😂
9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?
No, because it's always the characters that make me want to write. If I don't know them, the urge isn't there.
I guess I did once get into a fandom (Stargate Atlantis) from a sort of sideways direction when its second season was airing. I was on a trip to the US at the time, and I saw an episode from season 2 not long after I arrived. After that, a bunch of people I knew from other fandoms kept showing me random episodes featuring a particular character (Rodney McKay) and feeding me fanfic recs to try to lure me in. The thing that tipped me over the edge was actually a gloriously angsty songvid with a very particular spin on the events of the first season. So I had a rather inaccurate and biased impression of the show by the time I got home a month later and ordered the DVD of the pilot episode (this was in 2005, and things were different then), watched it seven times in three days and became utterly fascinated by John Sheppard (much to my McKay-loving friends' dismay) . That less that straightforward perspective on the show did not stop me from writing. 😂
12. Have you ever written a fic and decided never to publish it? Why?
Not an entire story, though there have been one or two that I've part-written, not finished when life intruded, and then never gone back to to finish and post - because their moment has passed. Or occasionally I just post part of what I've written, like this little OUAT ficlet - though I think maybe it actually works better in this short and punchy form than the longer version I'd planned.
(And thanks. I didn't intend for it to be quite this long. I'm currently trying to re-find the writing headspace.)
Fanfic author ask meme
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thxcitylights · 2 years
Text
I’m not in the mood to write out some beautiful words tracing the curves and sharp edges of my ugly feelings. I don’t want to write out the beginning middle and end, because the entirety of us and its length is a blurry uncertainty right now. I don’t believe in sequels, nor trilogies, I don’t think things just fall into place after the first or second ending.
And im just so angry.
I don’t want to write because I don’t want to think about how it felt to have you gone and reappear all within the matter of a month. and you revisit the stage and reintroduce yourself into my life with a phone call that held all of the answers I’ve been searching for since Easter. I’ve been analyzing the scattered pieces of our memory, brushing them off, and treating my interpretations of these half burnt pages as factual answers to our demise. The answers I’ve been pleading for from the universe for the last month. And it turns out the inked answers you so willingly spilled on my lap stained worse than just simply writing you off as a horrible person who didn’t want me. but running my fingers over the rips in my conclusions that were deducted from the artifacts of my past, i knew in my heart they weren’t the case with us. and they weren’t. It was much more complicated and adult than that.
Because you did think about us together, you’ve already played out this relationship, this fantasy of us over and over for 9 months in your head. You assigned us roles and wrote out the dialogue and adapted it to screenplay to capture the beauty of what was us. And it was golden, vivid, and peace, and the simple answer to both of our individual anguishes. until you ended it 20 minutes in with rolling credits and a song that sang of hopeless regret, which in your mind, was the inevitable. But in reality, we never even went on a real date. We knew each other once in person 4 seasons ago and we kept up this fantasy of each other without speaking for 3 months in between that.
And you tell me to be realistic, “long-distance never works”, but I think I am being realistic because I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. You can’t call something a lost cause without even allowing yourself a chance to become passionate for it and diving deeper into its being. nor is there even a relationship in the question at this time, that’s not even on my table of negotiables. you are a total stranger that I’ve barely known since the heat of august. But here we are.. sitting in the grieving process like we know any sort of ending when there was no actual beginning. We sit here not acknowledging the other as we both sulk in our melted potential. And I know you’re protecting yourself from your most vulnerable parts and you don’t want to relive your harshest breakup, but we’re not even at the point to be considering that. So no, i am not the one being naïve and living in a fantasy world, I am not the stupid little girl pleading for you. You are living in a movie and I’m not even playing the part you assigned me because you don’t even know my character well enough to write her into your picture. You don’t know her art, her family dynamic, what she does for herself outside of loving you. You don’t know me. Because I’m living outside of your premeditated tragedy script. im here, 30 minutes away from your doorstep. So please, anytime now, join me in reality.
I guess maybe I was in the mood to write about it.
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passerine-writes · 2 years
Text
Symbols - Chapter 8
Warnings: A bit of angst, mentions of self harm Word count: 714 (im sorry that it’s short, the next one will make up for it)
Masterlist
Chapter 7 | Chapter 9
Small announcement! For any former readers, the last seven chapters have been edited so the reader is a second year at Fukurodani rather than a third year.
Third Person POV
Keiji opened his door to find three of his soulmates displaying a nervous habit. Kenma was bouncing a leg, Kuroo was constantly running a hand through his hair, leaving it even messier than normal and Koutarou was pacing around the bedroom with his hair laying flat to his head.
Kenma felt nauseous, deep down he already knew what was going on, why else would Keiji ask him about his previous self harm habits? He may be the only other person getting that answer tonight but he hated feeling this anxious.
All of the boys looked to the black haired setter walking into his room, stilling as they saw the anxious and tired look on his face. Koutarou’s face falling even more as he saw the puffiness and red rings around Keiji’s eyes, immediately taking two large strides over to the youngest of his boyfriends and tugging him into a hug. Nobody made the move to interrupt them, the Nekoma boys watching Keiji’s body sag and relax into Kou’s hold.
“Keiji,” the boy in question stepped out of Koutarou’s hold at the sound of Tetsurou’s voice, “what happened today?” He shook his head and retreated to sitting on his bed. Kenma stayed seated beside him, Tetsurou stayed leaned against the window sill and Koutarou crouched on the floor in front of the quiet boys.
“I promised her I wouldn’t tell you guys. But, something happened. I don’t know what, but something happened to her. I think someone hurt her.” He balanced his forearms on his knees, his glassy eyes glancing up to his boyfriends.
All of them fell silent, all of them having the same gut feeling but everybody having their own idea as to what may have happened. 
Kaara sat in her room, contemplating what Akaashi told her earlier all the while she sat in anguish. Except this time, it wasn’t her own. She could feel the struggles and discomfort that Akaashi and Koutarou were currently going through. She debated on texting them but instead, the guilt consumed her. It was her fault, they were getting worked up over her and she could sense it. It was nauseating and the only other thing she could feel was her own guilt. So she did the one thing she knew how to do without messing up.
Clean.
She made her way downstairs and cleaned to her hearts content. Organized, vacuumed, swept, dusted, washed dishes, wiped counters and organized some more. Kaara did this for a few hours, finally unwinding and feeling better. Little did she know, her relaxation and serotonin eased two boys as well.
Akaashi laughed under his breath, earning an odd look from the three boys in his room.
“I can feel her serotonin.”
Kaara’s POV
The next day, Bokuto ran up to me and swept me into a hug, quite literally taking me off of my feet. He spun us around and I fought to keep my legs from swinging out into the clustered hallway. I buried my face deeper into the nape of his neck, trying desperately to hide from the prying eyes and daunting whispers.
“Bo, please put me down.” He quickly set me to my feet but continued to smile brightly at me. I heard whispers flying around and I rolled my eyes “Lets just get to our classes, please?”
------------
The next week and a half continued on like this and things started feeling normal and okay again. But I can tell Koutarou is losing his patience, it’s been two months since he opened our stupid bond and it’s clear he wants more. He truly does remind me of a puppy at times and it’s cute, I mean, it tracks I guess. I just want us to go back to normal, before all of this stupid soulmate stuff. This is exactly what I didn’t want to have happen but either way he’s going to get hurt. That is the last thing I wanted for him and now its going to happen, not once but now twice, all because of me. All because of my stupid fear, but now it only gets worse.
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