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#truly a balancing act writing is
chibishortdeath · 15 days
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Hmmm I kinda want to make a side blog for RPG Maker game development related things to be able to talk to more experienced people in that community, but at the same time I both don’t really think I’d get much attention and don’t want to accidentally spoil my own game (^^ ; ).
I have a rough story, concept doodles, a tileset, some character sprites, an enemy that walks around but can’t initiate battle yet (if I even decide to have a battle system), a couple rooms with some events, and a functioning run button, but I’m still lost on how to do much else at the moment. Especially since this program has the ability for scripting, meaning I’ll probably have to learn and actually retain another coding language.
So, I’m not very far at all lol. Idk how well that’d go over on the established fandom website, but eh.
#text post#incoherent rambling#project update#game project#I’m still also debating whether or not I can actually even make a proper horror game too#It’s the rule of like just being a horror fan doesn’t make you good at horror being afraid of something does? ya know?#I am trying to go with things that scare me personally but it’s been difficult#either things aren’t concrete of concepts enough or are wayyyy too oddly specific to make anything about#which is quitter talk I know but how does one translate the childhood heebee jeebees of watching top ten gaming videos past bedtime 💀💀💀#or like the way too broad general fear of lack of control without making it too on the nose or too vague#truly a balancing act writing is#kinda ironically I am also a little bit less afraid of hospitals after having been to one for myself rather than family members#which makes things both more and less difficult???#on one hand I have better references for them now but on the other hand I’m desensitized to it 😔#I think I get used to things a little too easily for a lot of things to stay scary#the thing was a scary movie the first time I saw it and now it’s a comfort film#funger was a very scary game until I first died and reloaded a save with little consequence and now it’s just a spooky but fun rpg#but then at the same time thinking about a movie studio logo before a movie that scared me as a kid cause there was a monster in it#still gives weird left over shivers but actually seeing it doesn’t anymore for some reason#I feel like that’s how it’s worked with most things I’ve ever been afraid of in my life besides concepts like death control or idk drowning#ugh writing is HARD#but actually making a functional and fun to play game is harder oh my god do I not know how to make puzzles#I have made swivel chairs that can be knocked and walked over but that’s about it and idk what to do with that knowledge lmaooooo#and I don’t want the entire gameplay loop to be read text search room get key repeat cause that’s boring#I have also desperately tried making a stamina system but there’s not much help with that online especially not in the rpg maker forums#the no necroposting rule sucks all the threads for questions I have never get answered and never will cause no one is allowed to due to age#anyway idk what to tag this probably won’t get seen since it’s not my usual anyway but eh whatever I’ll think about this#hopefully I remember the passwords to two blogs 💀💀💀
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I love being insane and rambling/loredumping for over an hour in a voice note about a niche thing in the lore/world of my nonexistent book that will probably never come up and is probably not important to the story at all that I know of because I haven't really started writing it yet besides two chapters and some snippets that were like a few years ago because I cannot be bothered to do research for a different WIP that is not even past the basic stages (the real inciting incident hasn't even happened) bc it's not a current priority before finishing the first draft that I have been working on for the last four years or the first draft of the other WIP I've been working on since the year two thousand and sixteen.
#just writer things#truly hate my brain sometimes like why am I getting trivia for a book I have barely written like 2#20K* words for like I haven't even opened the doc for it in like 8 months and I haven't actually added anything for over 2 years now so.#I don't even have any particular plans to get to it until I at least finish the 2 WIPs I'm working on rn—#which includes one I've been writing the first draft for since 2018 and a basically done first draft of a WIP from like 2016#both are missing the 3rd act bc I suck at writing cliamxes + my writing style for either books isn't suited for that so it'll take a while#like the 2016 one is at 120K words and literally only needs 1 more chapter and an epilogue so maybe like 20K more words.#there's supposed to be a big climactic battle which intersects the stories of approximately 25 named characters until the actual climax#which is another battle but more small scale but also more epic bc it's personal and magical#and I've literally already written the second battle but the buildup to the first fight is hard and so is the actual battle#then there's the WIP that's haunted me for the last 4ish years which is at 160K of an expected 200-220K and is entirely missing the 3rd act#like I have some stuff written and I did plan a structure for a bunch of the main plot stuff bc the book takes place over a strict timeline#but like the actual climax is mostly missing like I have the ending written. the ending is fully done.#I've had it written and planned for a WHILE bc it's supposed to lead into a future story and it has to happen this way#but idk how to get there just yet with a cast of almost 50 named characters to keep track of and 6 'main' plots although it's really 3#like it's a lot to balance bc I prefer writing with larger casts and just getting things done is so hard#bc I physically can't do 'write later' to stuff bc those are some of the most important interactions to me and idk how characters act if—#I don't have those written precisely. it's sort of a story about the effects of the mundane. I literally can't 'write details later' this.#and in the middle of this nightmare — a 4 month writing drought — my brain in like 'here's a bunch of shit about a third story'#god sometimes I simply hate my brain#anyway yeah lol#truly just writer things#owad#anyway guess this is me sort of pivoting back to vomiting about writing on this blog#writbelr#writblr#james rambles#James yells in the tags
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samanthamulder · 2 years
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you know what, the end of riverdale being announced made the show a billion times more attractive for me and suddenly I'm on season 4 episode 17 and I...love it
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fernshawart · 2 years
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How to write a cane user character
(Written by a cane user)
A few months ago, I wrote a small guide on good disabled characters and why they were good that gathered quite the attention, and I thought that doing another more specific guide this time would be interesting for writers or just people that are curious ! This guide will include general informations, some things to do, some things to avoid and some ideas that might revolve cane users's lives.
Things to know about cane users
Cane users are pretty diverse, and putting us in little boxes usually isn't the best idea if you want to make a character that has substance and isn't just "the disabled one". Here some infos about cane users that might be helpful knowledge !
Canes don't have ages. Most cane users in media are portrayed to be old, but truly, anyone can have the need to wield a cane ! I've been using mine ever since I was 17.
Can users can have a large variety of problems for their canes. Some canes are used to avoid pain from effort. Some canes are used for balance purposes. Some canes are to make walking less exhausting (works the same as walking sticks !) And sometimes, it's multiple problems at once.
Not everyone needs their cane 24/7. Some always need it, some can make small efforts without it but overall often need it, and some people, like me, can spend quite a lot of time without it. I almost never use my cane in my house, and mostly take it outside !
People with canes can run. We're not necessarily slow, I'm even faster than a lot of my friends.
Not using a cane can come with consequences, but not always. Some people might be able to walk without a cane but then suffer horrible consequences, but for others, canes are just a commodity for specific occasions.
Canes don't have to be looked down upon. Look at some characters with canes that look cool as hell ! Arsène Lupin, Roguefort Cookie, Brook ... Their canes serve their style !
We can be pretty healthy. Some people can have canes just because they were born with a bent leg and that's it. Our cane doesn't define our health status.
Canes aren't a curse. Think of them as something positive. It's a tool to make our lives better. You don't see someone sitting on a chair and think "awh, it's sad that they need a chair". It's more something like "hey it's cool that this chair is here so they can sit down"
Things to do
Make them use their cane. And when I mean use, I mean that canes are just funky long sticks usually made out of metal. Have fun with it ! Let them use it as a weapon ! Trust me, one hit in the knees with a cane and you're DOWN. Use it to reach stuff that's too high for everyone ! Have fun. Be creative.
Let them decorate their cane. It's an extension of their body ! You usually put on clothes that you like, don't you ? It's the same for a cane. If they like cutesy stuff, let them paint in it pastel colors ! If they like a more flashy style, add some stickers on it ! If they're a fancy person, give them a beautiful crafted cane with jewels on it !
You can make them a little shy or uneasy about their cane. Some people don't feel worthy of confident enough to wield one. It's not rare to see people think they're "not disabled enough to do so"
But on the other hand, you can do the complete opposite !! Make them proud of that cane ! Make them act like they're feeling pretty and more confident with it ! One thing i like to think about with my own cane is that I look like a cool gentleman. That boosted my confidence immensely.
Things to avoid
Don't make it their whole world. And by that, I do not mean that their cane shouldn't be a defining trait of their personality. Think of Toph from ATLA. She is blind, and you usually can't think of her character without describing her as blind. However, that isn't her entire personality trait. Make cane users have a goal in life, friends who enjoy them for who they are and not just pity them, have fun ... Don't just make them the disabled one.
Don't try to make the character's life just a plain disaster unless it's the focus of your story and you really know what you're talking about. Having a character who's always in pain, who feels bad about relying on their cane and/or who's angry at the entire world for being disabled is a REALLY tricky subject to use if you don't want them to be either a mass of unhappiness and angst for no good reason or some inspirational porn of the character who inside is deeply tortured but outside keeps up a facade because they shouldn't cry to avoid making others uneasy.
Do not, and I repeat, do NOT try to heal them, especially in a magical way. Bad idea. A lot of disabled people's goal isn't to be healed. It's to live a normal life. Making it so the ultimate goal for them is to be healed makes it as if they were worthless as long as they were disabled. Making their situation better physically or mentally is one thing. Curing them completely is really bad. "But some disabled folks want to be cured !" True, true. But if you are able bodied, I'm not sure if you can have the right mind to understand all of the complex details about this situation that leads to someone's life choices and the end result may look like you think the only thing that can make disabled people happy is being freed from their condition. I think it's best to just avoid it altogether. If you need a more nuanced idea, try to give them a solution that still has a few downs ! For exemple, a prosthetic that feels like a real arm, acts like a real arm and basically replaces it perfectly is a full cure. But a prosthetic that takes time to adjust to, needs repairs sometimes and doesn't look 100% like an arm can be a better narrative choice
Smaller thing, but don't make the handle uneasy to wield if you draw the character design. You can decorate most of the cane, but if you have chunky spiky decorations on the place you're supposed to clench your hand over, you're gonna hurt yourself. I've seen quite a lot of jewel handles or sculpted metal handles and usually their not good. If it's detailed metal, your hand will end up cramped in little parts and it can hurt. If it's a jewel, it's so easy for it to slip out of your hand it's unpractical.
List of tropes/ideas of scenes/details about canes to help you write new situations !
If you walk with a cane during winter, you can't put your hand in your jacket to get warm and there's a high chance your hand will get freezing. So after a long walk, you get an excuse for another character to hold their hand and warm them up.
If the handle is metallic, you get the opposite problem during summer. You can burn yourself so easy ! Easy accident if you want someone to help and get closer to the disabled person without it necessarily involving their disability.
Canes are SUPER useful when you're walking upon heights. They make things really easy, just like hiking poles on mountains ! I live on volcanoes and whenever we clim on a harsh slope, I'm always the first to get up there. Good moment for your character to get a boost of confidence if they get all the way up somewhere before their friends !
The first time using your cane feels magical. If you have chronic pains, it makes you feel like your pain disapear. If you can't walk right, it feels like everything is suddenly alright. The moment where a character chooses to wield a cane can be huge for character development. It's a moment of fear because of the impact a cane has on their appearance, but also a moment of confidence and relief.
Canes fall. All the time. And after a while, it becomes fucking comical. Trust me, putting a cane against the wall, seeing it fall and doing it three times again in a row while it doesn't want to stay up makes you embarrassed but also makes you want to laugh because of how stupid it looks.
When you get a cane, you stop being invisible. When you walk outside, generally speaking, people don't look at you. They don't care about you. But when you get a cane, people start to stare at you for no other reasons that you have a cane. Half of them are just curious, especially if you're young. The other half has a very specific look. The "oh, you poor thing" look. Which is, trust me, particularly awful to get, especially when you're just existing and doing nothing special. How does your character react to this ? How do they feel about it ?
I believe that is all I had in mind. I may add some more details in the future if I get other ideas, but this should already be a good start. I would be thrilled to answer questions if you have some, either in my askbox or through DMs.
I will tag this post with characters holding canes that aren't necessarily considered cane users but that some people may be interested in writing as such. Feel free to tell me if you'd like to see tags being added !
Edit : I'm highly encouraging everyone to look at the tag section under this post where a lot of other can users are sharing their experiences !!
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munsonluhvr · 3 months
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SWEETHEART SOIRÉE (DAY #2: LOVE LETTERS EVENT)
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content: Eddie Munson x virgin!innocent!reader explicit, 18+ content! Your parents are strict, not willing to let you go out and participate in the shenanigans that happen on Valentine's Day; Eddie helps you sneak out so you can go out with him. word count - 4.1k
notes: this was so extremely fun to write. I got so engrossed in writing this that by the end I felt like I just snuck out to spend a night with Eddie #Iwish.
love letter event masterlist
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The loud hum of conversation in Hawkins High cafeteria numbs your ears, the sound becoming unbearable. It’s Valentine’s day and all-around you people make plans for later tonight. Even at the table you sit at, your friends bounce back and forth to each other, making plans of their own. 
“I’m sorry your parents won’t let you out,” your friend Nancy Wheeler says to you with a frown. “Parents can be such a bummer.” 
You offer a smile, trying to play nonchalant. There’s nothing more pathetic then showcasing how truly bummed you are. Your parents are conservative, expecting you to behave like a lady all day, every day. Valentine’s day was a holiday your parents deemed too risky, the love circulating in the air making the perfect disease for you to catch and act promiscuous. They expected you home after school, in your room for the rest of the evening. For any of the previous years that would have been fine, you had never had a ‘valentine,’ but this year was different – Eddie Munson had made it clear he was your Valentine. However, he wasn’t aware of the lockdown your parents will have on you later in the evening. 
You and Eddie have been dating for only a few months, still in the early stages of being in a relationship. You were crazy about each other, spending any free time you had with each other. Normally he’d be sitting with you during lunch, or you with him and his Hellfire friends, but you glanced back at his normal table, his chair at the end of the table left empty.
Just then, a hand clasps around the back your back, leaning you back. Your skin sparks under the touch, your eyes flickering to see Eddie’s eyes gazing at you. Your stomach twists, your body becoming a puddle under his gaze. Eddie leans over, placing a kiss on your mouth. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” Eddie says, disconnecting his mouth from yours. He crouches down next to your chair, holding onto the back of it for balance. You’re still reeling from his kiss, the form of affection never growing old; every time it gives you butterflies, your skin igniting with goosebumps. “I wanted to ask what you wanted to do tonight?” 
“She can’t go out. Her parents have her on lockdown.” Nancy tosses at Eddie, noticing your loss of words. Eddie frowns glancing from you to Nancy and then back to you. “Is that true?” 
You nod, glancing at your hands that rest on your lap. “My parents think Valentine’s is a promiscuous holiday, that I’ll get pregnant or something if I go out.” 
Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “Parents,” Eddie says. “Such assholes for no reason. That’s all right, don’t worry about it. Maybe we could do something next weekend then?”
You nod. “Definitely.”
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Depressed is not a strong enough word to describe how you feel, sitting in your room on the evening of Valentine’s Day, all alone. Throughout the rest of the day at school, you were surrounded by the constant sounds of people making plans with their friends or significant others. You had heard about a couple of parties at various people’s houses, though you let it pass through your mind, knowing there was no possible chance you would be able to go. 
You’re bent over your desk, scribbling notes for your upcoming biology test. You sigh, the feeling of disappointment riddling your body. Though you’ve accepted your parents stance on going out on Valentine’s, still, your mind circulates around what everyone else is doing as you’re locked in your bedroom. 
Your door opens, your mother leaning into your room. “What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes landing on you at your desk. “Homework, I’m not allowed to do much else.” You reply with a huff. You glance at your mother who’s in her pajamas, a robe cloaking her body. She shakes her head, crossing her arms across her chest. “You’ll thank us later when you’re in college and not held back by a child.” 
You shake your head, turning back to your homework that is laid out in front of you. Your mother is impossible. You ignore her while she stands in your bedroom doorway, her eyes sweeping across your room. “Your father and I are going to bed, don’t even think about sneaking out.” She says, placing her hand on the doorknob. She begins to back into the hallway that leads to your room but leans back in before the door completely closes. “And pick up your clothes, this isn’t a pig pen.” Your bedroom door snaps shut. 
You roll your eyes, resting your elbow on the desktop, your hand cradling your head. You shrug the exchange off, not letting your mother’s attitude ruin your night further. You consume yourself with schoolwork until you hear a light knock on your bedroom, jolting you out of your mind. You turn in your chair, squinting to see what made the noise outside. Though it’s pitch dark outside, the sun setting hours ago, you see a figure outside your window. 
You get up from your spot, and as you get closer you notice that it’s only Eddie. Lifting from the bottom of the window, you push your window up, allowing the cold February air flow into your room. “Eddie? What are you doing?” 
Eddie sits atop your roof, holding onto the windowsill to maintain his balance on the roofs sloped structure. His cheeks are flushed pink, the cold numbing his body. “I’m sneaking you out, I was about to knock but your mom rolled into your room, so I waited until she left. You deserve to go out, you always go from school to home to back to school.” 
You lean outside, the smell of fresh air filling your nose, softening your tone to a light whisper in case either of your parents were near. “And you know what she told me when she came in? To not even think about sneaking out.” 
Eddie snorts. “They won’t even know that you went out, I’ll have you back in a little while. Come on, it’ll be fun.” 
Your eyes shift, the fear of your parents opening your door to check if you’re still in there scares you beyond belief. Your parents instilled their beliefs into you without your consent, ensuring that you were the perfect child. You never allowed yourself to cut loose, trying to meet their standards. You debated whether you believed life would allow you to have a little fun with no consequences. “I don’t know, Eddie… my parents really don’t want me going out tonight.” 
Eddie coos, leaning forward to let his fingers brush your cheek. His digits are cold, displaying he’d been outside for a little too long. “You’re such good girl, such a rule follower. Sometimes I feel like I’m corrupting you and feel guilty.” 
You frown. “Don’t feel guilty, I just don’t want to deal with my parents grounding me for months and never letting me see you again.” 
Eddie smiles, his fingers moving away from your cheek and down to your own fingers. His fingertips graze across your knuckles, his fingers beginning to lace into yours. “Trust me, I’ll have you back in just a little bit.” 
You look back into your room, glancing at the door. Your heart beats, nervousness stuck in your throat. You debate, the pros and cons laying themselves out in your mind. You bite your lip, glancing back at Eddie. Since you and Eddie started dating, your dates were limited to directly after school while your parents were still at work or at school sporting events when your parents would allow you to spend time at. Once or twice, you had managed to sneak to Eddie’s house but only for a short while. 
Before you give it too much thought, talking yourself out of it, you fold yourself small enough to crouch through the window. Eddie cheers quietly, his hands pumping in the air, while he wraps an arm around your waist. Together, you and Eddie guide yourself off the roof, and you thank the universe for making your house a short, squatty two-story home. Once you get to the lowest part of the roof, Eddie maneuvers himself down, holding his arms out for you to hold onto while you hop down to the frost covered ground. As you jog from your backyard to the street where Eddie’s large van in parked you say a short prayer, though unlike your parents you don’t have strong feelings for ‘higher power,’ you ask whoever is up there to allow you just one night of fun. 
Eddie’s hand grasps yours, pulling you with excitement. In your slipper covered feet, you make it to Eddie’s van in a short minute. Instantly, Eddie turns the van on, the warm air blowing into the body of the car to warm your chilled body. You cover your mouth, a squeal escaping. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m doing this!” 
Eddie chuckles. “Welcome to the dark side.” 
You smile, fastening your seatbelt. And off you and Eddie go. 
It’s only around 11 o’clock, car headlights flashing past as you and Eddie coast down the Hawkins streets.  As you blow by downtown Hawkins, groups of girls in dresses, flower bouquets in their hands, their boyfriends trailing behind them; you catch a glimpse of what life is like outside of your home and away from your parents. Storefronts and restaurants have pink, paper cutouts of hearts and cupids, the town square demonstrating an appreciation for love day. 
“Where are we going?” you say, glancing at Eddie. 
“The pond by my house; there’s something I want to show you.” Eddie says, glancing back at you. Eddie’s house is on the other side of Hawkins, and you don’t venture their often; your parents claiming it’s ‘the wrong side of the tracks.’ When you went to Eddie’s house, it was only the first and second time you had really been to that side of Hawkins. You live a very sheltered life. 
Eddie turns right onto a dirt path, his headlights lighting up the dark park that surrounds the car. Bare trees, stick branches sticking out in all directions, crowd around in patches, almost blocking the path in which the car drives on. “You aren’t going to kill me are you?” You ask, the dark park giving eerie feelings. 
Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “Now why would I do something like that?” 
You shrug, smiling at the sound of his laugh. Eddie pulls into an unmarked parking spot, the car pointed in the direction of a half-frozen pond. It’s a fairly small pond and you frown at the sight; what did Eddie want to show you here?
Eddie shrugs his jacket off, placing the article of clothing around your shoulders. “What are you doing?” you ask, beginning to slip his jean jacket on. Eddie opens the driver’s side door, letting the cold air rush in. “I told you there’s something I want to show you.” 
“But it’s dark out.” You say with a frown. “What if there are, like, moose out there?”
Eddie frowns, another laugh escaping his lips. “This is Indiana, y/n, I don’t think we have moose here. I’ll keep you safe, come on.” You sigh, opening your door and hoping out of Eddie’s vehicle. 
You follow Eddie, reaching for his hand. You hate the dark, especially in an ambiguous park you’ve never been to before. Eddie follows a path that walks around the length of the small pond, your body staying close to his. After a short walk, Eddie places you in front of him, his hands on your shoulder. He leans close, pointing towards the edge of the pond. “Look,” Eddie says, his cologne radiating off of him. You squint, looking in the direction Eddie points in. When you see what he’s pointing at, you gasp softly. 
At the edge of the pond, almost hidden by the cattails, is a pair of swans, their pure white bodies reflecting the moonlight off them; they almost glow. Their bodies stick out against the dark water, the outlines of the revealed by the bright moonlight. They stay close to each other in the low temperatures, just as you and Eddie stand on the path, their long, thin necks bent around each other. The two swans nuzzle into each other, their black beaks lovingly pecking at each other. 
“I-I’ve never seen swans before,” you say, stepping closer to the edge of the pond to look. Suddenly, you’re no longer afraid of the dark, willing to stand in the dark of the night for hours just to watch the swans love each other.  
“This is where I come to do, uh, business and I noticed them last time I was here. They’re new, they weren’t here before.” Eddie says, watching you become entranced by the large birds. You can’t help but roll your eyes at Eddie mentioning his drug dealing business, but you feel special that Eddie thought to bring you here to see them. 
The pair of swans begin to drift away from the edge, one trailing behind the other, as they glide across the pond. You watch with curiosity, watching as the birds pause directly in front of you and Eddie in the middle of the pond. The front swan turns, angling itself towards the swan that was trailing behind. They stretch their necks, bending until their small heads are pressed against each other, their chests touching, making the outline of a heart with their bodies. “Eddie, look,” you say, your breath getting caught in your throat. 
Eddie pulls your back against his chest, his arm securing itself around your upper body. He leans into you, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Come on,” Eddie whispers, placing a second kiss on the edge of your jaw, a third under your ear on your neck. Eddie gently pulls you in the direction of the car, your eyes trained on the birds. As Eddie tugs your away, you watch as the two birds break apart, the heart broken, and they continue to the other side of the pond, one swan in front of the other. It was almost as if the swans did the display just for you and Eddie. 
Back at the car, Eddie opens the two back doors of the van, gesturing for you to get inside. You frown as you climb in, seating yourself in the bare backseat of Eddie’s car. You shrug Eddie’s jacket off, the warm heat still filling the car. As Eddie follows you into the backseat, he closes the van doors behind him. As he turns to you, Eddie crosses his arms across his body, lifting his Hellfire t-shirt up and off his torso. “Eddie, what are you doing? You’re going to catch a cold-“ you say, as Eddie maneuvers his body to hover over where you sit. Eddie pushes your upper body down with one hand, his other hand parting your legs. All at once you knew where this was going. 
You settle against the car floor, your mouth attaching to Eddie’s, your lips moving in harmony with each other. Your cold hands find their way to Eddie’s chest, your fingertips leaving cool trails across his warm skin. While Eddie presses his lips into yours, he uses his free hand to push your pajama pants down, revealing your naked bottom half underneath. Eddie groans against your mouth, feeling your bare cunt brush across his fingertips. 
You gasp, your mouth parting from Eddie’s. You had never been touched in that part of your body, except for your own hands and fingers, and the feeling was so much better then you could have imagined. Your hand fumbles at Eddie’s waist, attempting to unbuckle his belt. After an unsuccessful attempt, Eddie helps, his lips nipping at yours during the processes. Finally, his belt comes free, Eddie working quickly to unzip his jeans and shrug them off. At the same time, you lift your shirt up and off your body, the cold air that seeps into the car attacking your bare breasts. When Eddie looks back up at you after pulling his pants and boxers off, his eyes go wide like saucers looking at your bare chest. This was the first time Eddie has ever seen you naked, few opportunities throughout the few months you and Eddie have been dating allowed for such an activity. 
With eagerness, Eddie places himself over you, your bare hips meeting his. “Do you want to do this?” Eddie asks, his fingers brushing across your cheek bone. “We don’t have to.” 
You nod, cupping the side of his face with your hand. “I want to. It’s just my, uh, first time is all.” 
Eddie nods, his brows knitting together. “Just tell me if you want to stop; you promise you’ll say if you want to stop?” 
You nod, spreading your legs so Eddie can settle himself between you. “Will you walk me through it?” Eddie nods, his tender touches ensuring he’ll protect you the entire time. 
“Are you ready? I’ll push myself in now; it might sting a little bit, but I’ll go slow.” Eddie holds himself in his hand, leaning on his arm. Eddie is surpised to find that your body is already slick with arousal for him, the discovery turning him on beyond belief. 
You lean your head back against the floor, your eyes watching Eddie’s movement. “I’m ready.” You inhale, exhale, and Eddie pushes himself into you with ease. You gasp, your body working to adjust to Eddie’s large size. Your eyes flutter shut, the pleasurable pain coursing through you. “Are you all right?” Eddie asks, his hand cradling your head against his arm that he props himself up on. 
“You can move, I’m okay.” You say, your arms wrapping around his body. Eddie leans over you, placing a kiss on your jaw again. “You’re so beautiful, I feel like I don’t tell you often enough.” Eddie says, his eyes grazing across your face. 
You laugh. “You tell me every day.” 
Eddie shakes his head, his fingertips brushing across the outline of your lips. “That’s not often enough.” You blush, your mind blank. Eddie refocuses, rocking his hips against yours. Underneath him you groan, the pain starting to turn into pleasure. You wrap your legs around Eddie’s waist, feeling a need to be as close as possible to him. Though the car is cold, you and Eddie’s bodies become slick with a light layer of sweat, your core burning at the bottom of your stomach. 
Eddie buries his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling mindlessly as he becomes lost in the intertwining of your bodies. “You feel so good,” Eddie says clearly, his warm breath fanning against your skin. You whine, the feeling of Eddie rocking against you building pressure in your lower half. You aren’t coherent enough to form words, everything coming out in a mumble, as you begin to unravel under Eddie, your mind and body in a complete trance from Eddie’s touch. 
Eddie ducks his head away from your neck, leaving a few kisses in his wake as he trails down to your breasts. Swiftly, he cups one of your breasts into his large, rough hand, placing his mouth around your nipple. Your back arches in response, your hand leaving his back to entangle itself into his hair. You mewl, words beginning to form on your tongue. 
“Oh, Eddie.” You whisper, your fingers closing with locks of his hair in your hand. Unlatching his mouth from your nipple, Eddie trails kisses back up your chest, up the front of your throat. You lean your head back, silently asking Eddie to not stop. 
Every touch Eddie lays on your skin brings you further to the edge, his strokes slowing down and speeding up in the perfect rhythm. You don’t care if your parents know you’ve snuck out of the house, you don’t care if Hawkins police is cruising around  the streets looking for you, you know you’ve met heaven where you lay underneath Eddie, your legs parted just for him. 
The muscles of your cunt clench around Eddie, the pressure bringing Eddie closer with each stroke. Eddie buries his head in your neck again, your fingers still intertwined in his hair. You whine underneath him, mumbling mindlessly, turning Eddie on further and further. Eddie’s head fills with dirty ideas, with ways he wants to fold you, different places he wants to fuck you, but he knows there will be plenty of times in the future to explore his thoughts. 
With a few strokes, Eddie curls against you, a low grunt leaving his mouth as he releases into the depth of your cunt, your body arching as you finish too, the feeling of his body pressed against yours bringing to the brink. 
Eddie pulls himself from you, instantly cradling you in his arms. Placing a kiss on your temple, Eddie nudges into you. “Are you okay? Anything hurt?” 
You shake your head, the warmth of his body against yours feeling nice.  “It felt great.” Is all you can manage to say between breaths. Eddie laughs, his fingertips trailing across your skin. “You’re telling me.” 
The ride back to your house was fast, too fast for your liking, and you stand in your backyard underneath your bedroom window. All the lights in your house were dark, your parents’ bedroom at the front of the house dark, no movement behind their shut curtains. You and Eddie really pulled it off. 
Eddie kneels in the wet grass, making himself a stepping tool. You hold onto his shoulder, using his thigh as a steppingstone to your low roof. With a little upper body strength, you ease your way onto your roof, Eddie standing up from the kneeling position to help guide your legs. After, Eddie maneuvers his way on to the roof with ease. He ushers you up, lifting your cracked window open enough for you to sneak into. You climb into your room as quietly as possible, your eyes looking towards your bedside table, your small analog clock reading “2:50 AM.” 
You turn to the window, Eddie crouching down just as he had when he appeared in your window earlier that night. “See? Just like you never left.” 
You smile. “I had a great time, thank you.” You lean out the window, placing a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Go before you catch a cold.” Eddie nods, his eyes lingering on you. 
“Oh, wait.” Eddie whispers, reaching his hand behind his back. “I almost forgot to give you this.” Eddie places a single red rose on your windowsill, a light blush tinting his cheeks. You pick the flower up, lifting it to smell it’s fragrant petals. Your heart swells, the kind gesture making you feel warm. 
“I feel bad, I didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s.” 
Eddie shrugs. “You are already the greatest gift.” Eddie leans forward again, catching your lips against his. Then, swiftly, Eddie maneuvers across your roof, waving goodbye as he dodges across your backyard.  
You linger by the window, wondering if you’re in a dream, the night too perfect for words. After a minute, you tuck yourself under your bedsheets, the warmth warning your tingling limbs. As you lay, the rose placed on your bedside table, you hear footsteps coming towards your room. You let your eyes flutter shut, relaxing your body as if you were asleep. 
You hear the doorknob turn, the door cracking open. “See,” you hear your father say, the floor creaking under his weight. The door opens wider, your dad allowing your mother to peer into your room. “She’s still in here, not acting like a hooligan in the dark of the night.” 
You hear your mother hum, the sound of her bracelets clinking as she crosses her arm. “I swear I just heard two voices talking.”
Your father scoffs and you can imagine him shaking his head. You hear their footsteps moving towards the hallway and out of your room. You hear your bedroom door begin to close. “You need to start trusting her more, she’s not the type to be inclined to sneak out in the middle of the night…” you hear your dad say, the rest of his sentence muffled by your closed bedroom door.
You can’t help but smile against your sheets, the memories of Eddie’s mouth planted on yours, his fingertips dragging across your bare skin, the image of the two swans making a heart out of their bodies against the dark of the night. Perhaps it was a good thing you parents didn’t know what you were capable of doing.  
679 notes · View notes
fyodere · 1 month
Text
omegle sexting with Fyodor. ♡
midnight confessions.
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“ I hope nobody catch us
but i kinda hope they catch us ”
— LES
﹙ 🦇 ﹚── parings: fyodor dostoevsky x fem!reader ♡
₍^. .^₎⟆ ── content warnings / tags : nsfw content (mdni), college!au, fyodor is mean, nasty absolutely filthy smut, reader is a freshman, fyodor uses the pseud ghost face online, light corruption kink, sexting, petnames, degradation, fyodor is a sadic, dirt talk, light dom/sub dynamic, implied catholic guilt, fyodor is a creep perv ♡
﹙ 🔪 ﹚── synopsis : Why you were still awake? It was the middle of the night, and the student dormitory rested in the silence of the moonlit hours. However, your insomnia and a restless curiosity propelled you into the vastness of the internet. Your idea was curious but fitting for the moment. You decided to venture into anonymous chat sites, just like you used to do in your adolescence. Maybe that would be enough to make you sleepy.
Of course, there was a chance you would encounter a creep in those forums. But at this point, who cared? The night was incredibly boring; you needed to take the risk, needed to seek excitement.
﹙ 🩸 ﹚── author's note : GUESS WHOS BACKKK i wrote this listening to my late night texts playlist so the content here is JUICYYY i can’t get enough of pervy fedya content so HERE I AM also i had the idea to write this thanks to this one fyodor fanart i hope you enjoy it <3
2:27 am
 
You huffed, pulling your blanket up to your nose. You turned, in an act of courage, to your clock, hoping you had seen the time wrong. But no. Oh, no! It was still the middle of the night. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was racing, processing many thoughts that could cross your mind.
 
You shouldn't be awake. It was late at night, and college life was wearing you out. Amidst books and assignments, you found yourself immersed in a sea of responsibilities that seemed never-ending. The dark circles under your tired eyes betrayed the sleepless nights and quick naps during classes. But on that night, even though you knew you needed rest, something kept you awake. Perhaps it was the anxiety about the unfinished final project, or the feeling that time was slipping through your fingers. Lying in bed, you wondered if sacrificing your sleep and health for academic success was worth it. In the silence of the night, you reflected on your choices and questioned if this was truly what you wanted for your life.
 
In the quiet of the room, the faint moonlight revealed a common scene: scattered notes, open books, and tired eyes staring at the ceiling. No one should be awake at that hour. Not your senior, Dazai, or Atsushi. And even if they were awake, who are you to disturb them? Amid tight deadlines and academic pressure, you navigated through the nighttime challenges, seeking balance between dreams and reality. As the hours passed, reflections on the price of knowledge intertwined with the desire to overcome the limits imposed by fatigue.
 
You looked around your room; it was a mess. You sighed again, letting the air oxygenate your brain, begging for a bit of patience. Then, with a head full of thoughts, you had an idea.
 
You stealthily walked to your small desk, where your laptop was. You picked it up and took it to bed, lying down comfortably and turning on the monitor, letting the screen light up your room.
 
Why you were still awake? It was the middle of the night, and the student dormitory rested in the silence of the moonlit hours. However, your insomnia and a restless curiosity propelled you into the vastness of the internet. Your idea was curious but fitting for the moment. You decided to venture into anonymous chat sites, just like you used to do in your adolescence. Maybe that would be enough to make you sleepy.
 
Of course, there was a chance you would encounter a creep in those forums. But at this point, who cared? The night was incredibly boring; you needed to take the risk, needed to seek excitement.
 
The computer screen became your window to the unknown. You saw each conversation as a calculated risk, a word game unfolding in the cyber twilight. Amid anonymous profiles and shared stories, You navigated between fascination and caution, aware of the thin boundaries separating adventure from recklessness.
 
In the early morning, where the boundaries between the real and the virtual fade, you became a solitary explorer, guided by curiosity and drawn to the digital enigmas the night revealed.
 
You shouldn't be awake. In the stillness of the night, you decided to venture into the depths of the internet, exploring the nightly dangers hidden in virtual shadows. Alone in your room, the faint light of the monitor revealed your curious expression and a glint of audacity in your eyes. Navigating through chat rooms and forums, you connected with strangers, engaging in conversations echoing secrets and unknown stories.
 
Cautious but driven by the quest for new experiences, you explored this digital world on the fringes of convention. The keyboard keys echoed in the silence, creating a fragile link with distant strangers. Each typed word carried a hint of mystery and vulnerability as you danced on the tightrope between curiosity and the risks hidden in the cyber darkness.
 
Amid digital shadows, you found a strange sense of freedom, challenging the boundaries of the unknown in an attempt to break the monotony of the night.
 
However, behind the screen, uncertainty loomed like a constant shadow. You, intoxicated by virtual adrenaline, realized that the price of nocturnal boldness on the internet could be high. Caution became a necessary ally as you navigated the turbulent waters of virtual relationships, aware that not everything shining in the darkness is safe.
 
Yet, curiosity and the thirst for something exciting flowed in your veins.
 
You entered another forum, using a random nickname for identification. No one needed to know it was you. Eager to start a conversation, you initiated the chat.
 
You: well well, what’s up?
 
I didn’t took long to the stranger reply.
 
Stranger: You know what? Nothing much. Just killing some time talking to strangers. You just can’t sleep, huh?
 
You: yeah. always come here?
 
Stranger: Not always, but enough to recognize the other regular people chatting here. You must be new.
 
You: oohh smooth ;) how did you know?
 
Stranger: You can recognize a newbie a mile away. No one talks this open and nice.
 
Stranger: You seem to have caught my attention. What is your name?
 
You: you mean my real one?
 
You: mhmm… isn’t dangerous tell my name online?
 
Stranger: Smart girl.
 
The simple praise made you cover your mouth with your hands, you were blushing.
 
Stranger: Ahh, I like this one. You see, you are right, the internet is dangerous, but we, people who frequent those websites, are even more dangerous.
 
Stranger: but I can find your location in one hour, so what is the harm to give me your name, sweetheart?
 
You: playing dangerous, hm? I like that ;)
Then you told him your name.
 
Stranger: Ah? Cute name, fits such cute creature.
Stranger: You can call me Ghost Face for now.
 
You let out a nasal laugh. How could he be so cheeky?
 
You: im glad that you like it, pretty boy
 
Stranger: Pretty boy, huh? If people could hear you, they might think that I am some kind of lady magnet.
 
Stranger: Maybe I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.
 
You: Oh? Why not, Ghost Face?
 
Stranger: Ah, you are such a tease. I can’t imagine what secrets you are hiding, but now, I am even more interested in you. What a dangerous girl.
 
Stranger: Flatter me more, pretty girl. I'll play along with your mind games for some more time.
 
You chuckled, feeling your cheeks warm again. Whoever was behind that screen, that person knew how to get reactions out of you.
 
You: mmm… smooth, yeah?
 
Stranger: You little vixen.
 
Stranger: You know it. But, to my surprise, you might be smoother than a snake. I wonder how many guys you make blush?
 
You: ah, not that many. I’m pretty lonely at college
 
Stranger: Lonely at college? Now that is surprising. I thought that you should have boys chasing you. You must be really shy, huh?
 
You: uhhh kinda…
 
You: you’re a good people reader
 
Stranger: You know, I really do like your attention. You are really making my night, pretty girl. And don't worry, I'm not a people reader. But I am really good at reading you.
 
You: smooth as always, Ghostie, hm?
 
You: Ghost, are you in college too?
 
Stranger: Yeah.
 
Stranger: I major computer science and work remotely.
 
You: really?
 
You: tell me more about you work
 
Stranger: Well, to be totally honest with you, it is a shady kind of job. I work with some not so nice people with even nastier interests.
 
You: ah… so Ghost Face is a bad boy, huh? tell me more about it
 
Stranger: You caught me, pretty girl. I am a bad boy, not going to deny it. I do all kind of thing related to computers and technology. Things that many would consider illegal.
 
Stranger: Let's just say I help people getting information that should stay hidden.
 
You: mhmmm… that explains why are you so smooth
 
Stranger: Thank you, pretty girl. I like the way you compliment me. You are really making my night, you know? Would you like to know the other reason I am smooth?
 
You: yeah? tell me, Ghostie
 
Stranger: Damn. You really do want to hear it, don’t you? I know you are very innocent right now, but be careful of what you wish for. You might not be ready for what you are going to hear.
 
Stranger: You know, in a world of deception, people like me find it hard to trust someone. But I trust, for some weird reason, you. So there is one important question that I want you to answer. It will be an important step to show me how much I can trust you.
 
Stranger: Do you have a boyfriend?
 
You: no ;)
 
You: mhmmm… it’s kinda late
 
Stranger: Yes, it is late, and you have no excuse for your misdeed. If I was your boyfriend I would never let you be alone when it is this time. You would be with me all night, in my room. You would not be up late talking to strangers on anonymous sites.
 
You: oh, Ghost… you’re making me soaked, mm?
 
Stranger: Oh, darling, is it starting to feel hot between us? You know what I would do if I was your boyfriend in this very moment?
 
You: mhmmm… tell me
 
Stranger: You want to know? Well, darling, first, I would whisper all my naughty thoughts to your ear. I would tell you all the things people would say are gross. And I would kiss you all over your body. I would make you feel good, in places you would not dare to touch.
 
You: oh, Ghost…
 
Stranger: Oh, dear, I am gonna give you attention like you deserve it. You are only my girl and I will make it very clear. I will show you the pleasures of the world so you only think of me. I will give you so much pleasure I hope you never want to leave my side.
 
You: Ghost…
 
You: I think you should give me your real number
 
You: so we can go more private yk
 
Stranger: Oh!
 
Stranger: Sure.
 
Stranger: You can call me Fyodor. ;)
 
After Fyodor sent his number, you quickly added it to your contact list and promptly began typing the next message, longing for contact with the enigmatic boy behind the screen.
 
You: Fyodor
 
You: can I call you?
 
Fyodor: Sure, I would love to hear your voice.
 
You quickly called Fyodor, who promptly answered.
 
“ … Hello?” You said slightly unsure of having called the boy.
 
Pretty girl... You are the cutest thing. Fyodor thought.
 
“Oh, oh, you sound so sweet, darling.” Fyodor said. “Your voice is soft and gentle. You sound like the kind of girl a man would want to listen to all day long. You make me feel things, sweetheart.” He said after a deep breath. “Please, can you tell me where you are right now, dear? Are you in bed?”
 
“Yeah, I am.” You replied.
 
“Please, let me know how the bed feels... Are you comfortable? Does it feel nice to have the bed all for yourself? I would love to be in bed with you...” He chuckled.
 
“Mm… my bed is pretty cozy. The college dorms are not that big, but they are pretty comfortable.” You answered.
 
“Oh, dear, this is so much better. If I was with you right now, I would want to feel your skin against mine.” Fyodor whispered the last part, leaving you in chills. “Fuck.” He whispered again. “I have to turn down, but we can keep chatting.”
 
“Okay.” You chuckled, and they got back to the text messages
 
You: I’m wearing something you might like right now.
 
Fyodor: Mhm?
 
Fyodor: Let me see.
 
You: [Photo] ;)
 
Fyodor’s eyes widened as he opened the image. It was a photo of you wearing a light pale lilac blouse that was too loose for your size. It almost covered up to half of your thigh, you weren’t using socks, leaving your legs exposed. Fyodor’s throat went dry when he saw you in that state. His face automatically became hot and his heart started to beat faster than usual. How could you have such a big effect on him?
 
Fyodor: Lord, please forgive me…
Fyodor: But, God, you’re making me feel so fucking weird…
 
Fyodor: If you were here right now, the things I’d do with you… shit, I’m definitely not seeing the gates of heaven.
 
Fyodor: I mean-
 
Fyodor: God, I’m so sorry. I typed without thinking first.
 
You: No!
 
You: It’s okay
 
You: I was kinda looking for this type of reaction. Lol.
 
Fyodor: So, my dear, you’re comfortable with this?
 
You: Yeah!
 
Fyodor typed for a while. The typing… under his contact made you anxious. What was him thinking?
 
Fyodor: Let me make you another question. Do you trust me?
 
He was typing again.
 
Fyodor: Let me take care of you tonight. it’s too bad I’m not there with you… I can’t get enough of you.
 
This time it was you the one who was left speechless. Your jaw literally dropped to the floor, you were surprised at how straightforward and bold this stranger man was.
Fyodor: But tell me, what do you like?
 
You: I don’t know… I never did it before.
 
Fyodor: Then, how about we find out together?
 
Fyodor: I want to explore your body if you’d let me. Would you?
 
You: Go ahead.
 
Fyodor: Darling, you’re such a fucking tease, you know that? We've only been talking for a few hours and I want to do the wildest things with you. You're making me think the biggest dirty thoughts, you're awakening things in me that I didn't even know could exist. All I can think of is your pretty lips around me.
 
You: Mmmm…
 
You: Now you’re making me want it too.
 
Fyodor: Dear, touch your thighs.
 
Fyodor: Gently.
 
Fyodor: God, your hair looks so silky.
 
Fyodor: I wish I could caress it as you’re on your knees.
 
You: MMM????
 
You: fuck
 
You: I would love to imagine you but I have no idea how you look like :(
 
Fyodor: Oh. Hold on, dear.
 
Fyodor: [photo] ;)
 
Your eyes widened when you opened the image. It was a mirror selfie, Fyodor had long black hair that touched his shoulders. His frame appeared to be lean and well defined. He was wearing sweatpants that highlighted his bulge. This made you salivate. Who knew the pervert from the anonymous website could be so handsome?
 
You: fuck.
 
You: you’re so— I can’t even put into words
 
You: I need you.
 
Fyodor: I need you too, dear. I crave you.
 
Fyodor: Darling, are you caressing your thighs as I requested?
 
You: uhum!
 
You: I am
 
You: but I’m feeling itchy down there… :( may you help me?
 
Fyodor: Oh, of course I will, my darling.
 
Fyodor: But first I need you to touch your beautiful exposed thighs.
 
Fyodor: You could see my hands on the picture, right? Imagine my hand on your thighs.
 
You: your hands are pretty big…
 
Fyodor: Yeah? Feel them. Feel them caressing you, gripping you, scratching you. Feels good, yeah?
 
You: you’re making me feel so itchy…
 
You: I need to touch it, Fedya :(
 
You: please
 
Fyodor: Hm? I am the one touching you, dear.
 
Fyodor: And it’s not time for it yet.
 
Fyodor: Now, put your hands on your chest.  Grip them, feel all the softness
 
You: fuck
 
You: I want to scream your name, Fedya :(
 
You: I need you.
 
Fyodor: I crave you too, my darling. Watching you like this makes me want to touch myself too… should I?
 
You: please
 
Fyodor: My dear, can I call you? I need to heat your voice again.
 
You: go ahead
 
You felt your heart race when you saw that Fyodor was calling you. You had already heard the man’s voice a few minutes ago. But now, they were more intimate than ever. You felt your body heat up as you imagined the dirty things Fyodor would say to you in a few seconds.
 
You promptly answered the phone.
 
“Dear?” Fyodor said with a husky voice. You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat.  “Now, let's get started.” He continued. “Close your eyes and imagine me touching you all over your body, running my hands over every inch of your skin.” Fyodor could hear your deep breath. “Can you feel it? The anticipation building up inside you?”
 
“Fedya…” You whispered. “Yes, I can feel it. I can feel you. God, I wish you were here with me, touching me, feeling my skin against yours.” You tried to say with more posture, but your voice was cracking with sighs and deep breaths.
 
“I can't be there with you physically, but we can still explore our desires together in long distance.” He replied. “Close your eyes and imagine my hands on your thighs, slowly moving up towards your hips.” He started to put his hands inside his pants. “Can you feel the warmth of my breath against your skin? The soft touch of my lips on your neck? Can you feel the electricity building between us?”
 
“Fuck… yes. I can. But I want you down there.”You said with your voice dripping lust.
 
“You want me down there, do you?” He asked. “I want you to imagine that I'm right in front of you, kneeling between your legs. My hands are running up and down your thighs as my lips press against the most sensitive spot on your body. Can you feel it? The heat building up inside you?” Fyodor smiled when he heard the sloppy sound coming from your line. “Just let go and enjoy the pleasure. Let me take control for a while.”
 
“I want you to take control of me, Fedya.” You said between deep breaths and dirty whispers. “To fill me.”
 
“Fuck… I want you to feel every inch of me inside you, filling you up completely.” He answered right after listening to your words. “I want you to touch yourself for me. Imagine that my hands are on your body, touching you exactly how I know you like it.” Fyodor started to caress himself, gripping his manhood. “Can you feel my touch? Can you imagine what it would be like if we were together in person?”
 
“Yes… I can imagine.” You said after a long sigh, sightly moaning. “But what about you? What are you thinking?”
 
“I'm thinking about how much I want to make you mine. I want to see you writhe with pleasure as I take control of your body and give you everything you've been craving.” He smirked.
 
“I want to squeeze you.” You confess after a long sigh.
 
"I'm already rock hard," He admits, his words tinged with desperation. "I need to fuck something, I need to fuck you, right now. I want you to imagine it inside your tight little pussy, fucking you so hard that your walls are shaking, your body trembling with pleasure and pain.”
 
“Uh, huh. Sure, everything you want, Fedya.” You said biting her lip.
 
"Good girl," He praises. "Now, I want you to rub your legs together, okay? I want you to imagine my cock in your mouth, sucking on it, and swallowing my load. You're a good little naughty girl, aren't you?"
 
“Yeah, anything for you!” You said in a more poised voice, doing as asked, becoming dizzy with the wave of pleasure that passes through your body.
 
"I knew you were a good girl," He says, ready to take things to the next level. "Now, I want you to imagine me fucking you from behind. Imagine me thrusting into your tight little pussy, claiming you as mine. It's hot, isn't it? Keep going as I request, okay?"
 
“You’re so rough… I love it.” You said between sloppy sounds and moans.
 
“Oh, dear," He groans, his words laced with arousal. "I am rough, I admit it. I like to dominate and fuck you hard, leaving you sore and begging for more. I want to make you my little bitch. I'll fuck you until you can't walk, until you can't breathe, until you're completely spent and used up."
 
“Fuck, keep going.” You were almost screaming now.
 
"You're such a good little naughty girl," He compliments, his words dripping with lust. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, so rough, that you'll feel like you've been through hell and back. I'll leave you bruised and battered, with a hole so raw that even the slightest touch will make you scream in pain. I'll fuck you until you can't take any more, and then I'll make you swallow my cum, filling you up with my seed."
 
“You want to fill me up?” You said, feeling the wave of pleasure more and more strong going trough you.
 
"Oh, yes," He grits out, his voice growing more intense. "I want to fill you up with my seed, to mark you as mine, to claim you as mine. I'll fuck you so hard that you'll never forget me, never forget what I did to you. I'll make you my slut, and I'll never let you go. I'll own you, possess you, and break you down, piece by piece, until there's nothing left but a broken shell of a woman." He tries to speak with a more husky voice.
 
“I— I’m close!” You were almost screaming, with the voice dripping lust.
 
"I'm about to cum," Fyodor warns, his breathing becoming ragged. "I want to fuck you so hard that your insides are shaking, your body trembling with pleasure and pain. I'll fuck you until you're begging for mercy, until you're too tired to even think, and then I'll make you swallow my cum, filling you up with my seed, making you my cum dumpster, my possession, and I'll never let you go. I'll own you, and I'll destroy you, piece by piece, until you're just a broken doll, a toy for me to play with."
 
“Mhmmm!” You were moaning for him, inattentive if you would be waking up your colleagues from the student dorm.
 
"I'm cumming," Fyodor whispers, his words tinged with lust and satisfaction. "I'll fuck you until you're begging for mercy, until you're too tired to even think, and then I'll make you swallow my cum, filling you up with my seed, making you my whore, my bitch and I'll never let you go.”
 
“Cum for me, Fedya” You said touching your most sensitive spot, yearning for the man’s touch on the other end of the line.
 
"Ah— fuck, I am cumming," Fyodor confirms, his words echoing with lust and satisfaction. "Here it comes," Fyodor grunts, his words filled with lust and satisfaction. "I'm cumming, imagine me shooting my load into your tight little pussy, filling you up with my seed.”
 
“F-Fyodor—! Ah—!“ You screamed, imagining everything that he said. The image of Fyodor’s cock was sent along, and as soon as it appeared in front of you, you could feel the sensations of his words rippling through you. Your heart raced with excitement and fear, and you felt yourself begin to shake from the intensity of it all. You gasped, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over your cheeks.
 
The image of his cock, thrusting into her tight little cunt, made your entire body shudder with pleasure and pain. It seemed to be penetrating you so deeply, and yet you couldn't help but crave more. His words continued to fill your mind, making you feel like a helpless little girl, unable to resist his dominance or his power.
 
"Mhmmm," He moans, his voice thick with desire as he continues to shoot his load.
 
“Fuck! This was… fuck. I— I can’t even put into words” You said between heavy breaths.
 
Fyodor chuckled softly, a sound that reverberated through their connection, sending a wave of heat and desire through your body. He knew exactly what you meant.
 
He laughed cruelly at your reaction, savoring the moment. He knew that you was struggling to find the right words to describe how you felt, and he found it amusing that you were so overwhelmed by his presence. He wanted you to feel small and vulnerable, to understand that you were nothing more than a plaything in his world.
 
He grunted again, as if it were determined to claim every last inch of you. The feeling was intense, and it only served to fuel his desire for more.
 
"Good," Fyodor grunted, his voice still filled with lust and satisfaction. "Because I want you to feel every single bit of what I'm doing to you, and I want you to understand how much I own you now.”
351 notes · View notes
malusokay · 1 year
Text
A happier life in 2023
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Health
Nourish your body properly, drink enough water, eat your greens, and take vitamins.
Don't punish yourself if you're having a bad day, are upset, or had something negative happen in your life, dont take it out on your body by depriving yourself of your daily needs.
Aim to become the healthiest version of yourself. Exercise and eat to feel your best, focus on your education, read, and be social.
Try therapy. Talking to someone helps you organize your thoughts, especially if you struggle with overthinking or anxiety. It's 2023; there is no shame in asking for help!! <3
80/20 rule. Find balance in your diet and lifestyle.
Mindset
Treat yourself with care and love. You deserve to feel good; start by appreciating yourself more and aim to feel comfortable within yourself.
Stop comparing yourself, your life and your accomplishments to others. Everyone has a different back story, don't compare your beginning to someone else's middle.
Ignoring negativity. Maybe delusion truly is the key to happiness. Remember the brightest moments, write them down and keep them close to your heart. :)
Smile at people. If you start sending good vibes, they will eventually come back to you.
Be kind. Small acts of kindness can truly mean the world. <3
Lifestyle
Spent more time in the sun. Try reading, studying, or exercising outside when it's sunny!
Be organized. Buy a planner, try notion, start using your calendar more. Staying organized is a great way to reduce stress in your day-to-day life!
Small daily comforts, a nice perfume, your favourite tea or coffee... simple small things that you can look forward to every day <3
Establish routines. Getting up earlier, open your curtains, some simple stretches, having daily routines can be so relaxing and fun!
Save money not just for emergencies but also to treat yourself! Set yourself saving goals for things that you've been wishing for :)
As always, Please feel free to add more suggestions in the comments!
✩‧₊*:・love ya ・:*₊‧✩
3K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 9 months
Note
criminal minds request:
Hotch and reader have a some tension between them ever since reader joined the team. They never acted upon it knowing that the relationship would be the hr nightmare.
They live in the same complex and reader is spending the night with someone from the bar and Aaron interrupts with the news of a case.
I love your writing btw
thanks! <3
this post is 18+, minors dni.
Aaron's been inside of your apartment only a few times before, but he could walk there in his sleep. That's almost what he wishes he was doing, instead of marching towards your door at one thirty-six in the morning, but duty calls, and though he'd tried to do the same, you hadn't answered your phone.
When he reaches your door Aaron can hear faint noise inside, and something like annoyance prickles at his chest at the thought that you'd ignored his phone call to watch television. But he finds himself seldom able to feel anything but secretly fond of you, so he tries to give you the benefit of the doubt.
What the door opens to is far worse than television. Instead of the faint glow of a screen lighting the couch, Aaron is met with the sight of a man, mostly naked and only draped in a sheet. Your sheet.
This man was in your bed.
"Yeah?" He asks, rather rudely, "It's the middle of the night, man. What do you want?"
He suspects you've asked the man to answer the door because you don't want to do it yourself, appearing alone at night in most likely very little clothing. Aaron commends you on your survival skills, but can't shake the feeling that he suddenly wants to try his hand at murder.
"I'm Y/N's boss," Aaron mutters, eyes set in a sharp glare, "She's needed at the office."
"Man, fuck off," Your houseguest scoffs, "That's not gonna work on me. Leave her alone, you creep, or at least come back with a better lie next time."
The man tries swinging the door shut, but before Aaron can wedge the freshly polished toe of his shoe into the gap, you squeal from down the hallway.
"Hotch?"
"We have a case," Aaron barks, voice still rough at the presence of the other man present, "You didn't answer your phone."
"I'm sorry!" You come running down the hallway while wrestling with the waistband of sweatpants Aaron hopes are your own, fully clothed in those and a tank top as you reach the door.
"Uh, Dominic, this is- he's my boss," You pat the man's bare back apologetically where you sidle up beside him, "I have to go."
Dominic doesn't seem to be particularly kind to anyone, Aaron muses. The man rounds on you with a furrow in his brow that Aaron doesn't like one bit, "Seriously? Some suited-up fuck comes to your door in the middle of the night and you just run off with him?"
"It's my job," You plead earnestly, "I'm sorry! It's just bad timing."
"Whatever." Dominic grumbles, turning to stalk off down the hallway to retrieve his clothes, "Bad timing my ass."
Neither you nor Hotch decide to tell him that you can see the very thing he speaks of. He's only holding the towel over his front half, and the back half being completely exposed doesn't help the tough-guy persona he's trying to put on as he storms off.
"I'm sorry," You breathe, sounding truly apologetic as Aaron stands in your doorway, "I didn't hear my phone ring, I was- we were... well. I'll be dressed and ready in, like, ten minutes." You vow, "I just need to get him out of here."
Aaron's not sure he can manage to speak after your admission, because up until now he'd been trying to pretend there was somehow some other reason for there to be a naked man crawling out of your bed at two in the morning.
All he can muster is a terse nod, and you take it as disapproval rather than a bruised heart. You rush off to get changed, and Aaron hears Dominic bicker with you before he storms his way out of the hallway and through the door. Aaron doesn't move as he passes through, and Dominic runs into his broad shoulders. Aaron keeps his balance steady, not sparing Dominic a glance as the man makes a fool of himself on the way out.
"She's not even worth it, man," Dominic sneers at Hotch from down the hall, "She must be some kinda whore. Called me the wrong fucking name, like she does this every night. Aaron must have been the last guy."
Hotch is stuck. If he hadn't heard his own name escape Dominic's mouth he'd have used what he's learned as a serial killer specialist to dispose of Dominic's remains without ever being caught. He doesn't like the way that the man spoke of you one bit, but when he hears you've been speaking of him, his spine stiffens and his legs lock into place.
"Tell her I hope Aaron likes her mediocre tits more than I did!" Dominic shouts as a sendoff, and Aaron knows for a fact that he does. Mediocre is the last word he'd use to describe them, but he respects you and won't dwell on what term would be best.
Aaron almost regrets seeing Dominic leave, because he'd have liked to grill the man on exactly what went down in there. How did you say his name? When did you say his name? Did you say his name when glancing over at your ringing phone, and ultimately deciding to ignore it? Or did you say his name through an open-mouthed moan, sweat beading on your hairline and certainly-not-mediocre tits bouncing wildly with each thrust?
Aaron's head is so clouded with thoughts of your fucked-out, sex-hazy state that he's startled to feel your hand on his arm, and he tugs it out of your grasp, jerking away like he's been burned. Sure, his skin is on fire where you've touched him, but only because he wishes you'd do it more, especially in other places.
You take his reluctance to be touched as a bad sign, and your face dims into a hesitant frown as you stand at the ready by Hotch's side.
"I'm sorry, Hotch," You murmur, tucking your hand into the jacket that you're clutching now that you feel you've made a fool out of yourself, "Um- it won't happen again, sir."
He wants to kiss you. He wants to duck inside, slam your door shut, and press you against the inside, demanding a detailed account of why his name had fallen from your lips earlier in the heat of the moment. But he can't, he knows he can't, and he has to blink at your forlorn expression instead, feet heavy as he drags them away from your door, like magnets trying to pull him to your bedroom.
"No need for apologies, Agent." He grits his teeth, "What you do in your free time-" like moan my name "-is your business. Let's go, we're briefing on the plane; wheels up in thirty."
1K notes · View notes
pandorasprongs · 1 year
Text
JAMIE TARTT | i'd be better armed if you agreed to take it.
PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 5.0k
SUMMARY: higgins' new assistant happens to be an old friend of the reader's, and their reunion hits jamie with major feelings of jealousy. when the team thinks that the pair of them are going on a date soon, jamie decides enough is enough.
WARNINGS: language
A/N: i actually like this story a lot better especially the dialogue! + jealous!jamie was really fun to write HAHAHA i hope that all of you enjoy this and title is from the song '(you) on my arm' by leith ross :) also i apologize in advance i'm not the best at writing kissing scenes
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You loved your job, truly. This was the first time you've had a decent, no, fucking amazing boss that didn't make you want to pull your hair out every time they called you into the office. 
But being Rebecca's assistant also meant that you sometimes had to help Higgins out with... well, whatever the Director of Football Operations does. It was fine in the beginning, just scheduling appointments and keeping track of ticket sales, but once Richmond got promoted, it felt like your work doubled.
It only took two weeks before you begged Rebecca to get Higgins an assistant of his own. Luckily, she obliged and asked Higgins to start interviewing possible candidates for the job. 
You hoped that whatever extra load you got due to Higgins occupying himself with selecting an assistant would be worth it from how much would be lifted off you when he did. So when you got the message from Rebecca to help delegate your duties to the new assistant, you practically ran to the clubhouse that morning.
You were too excited messaging your boss that you'd be there soon that you ended up bumping into someone near the entrance.
"Shit!" You exclaim as you almost lose your balance, but are steadied by the other person who turned out to be Jamie.
"Ay, watch where you're going, yeah?" Jamie warned casually, as he let go of your arms once you recovered.
"Sorry, Jamie." You straighten up and walk in with him. "I'm just really excited. Higgins finally picked an assistant and they're here today."
"Oh yeah, you were fucking drowning in work a few weeks ago." And by drowning, he meant it literally. The football player recalled seeing you walking past the locker room carrying a stack of papers taller than you were. You refused any help from the team, partly because they had to get to training and mainly because you didn't want them to see how the tear stains on some of the pages.
"Yeah," you chuckle at the memory. "But, after a few days of helping the new kid out, I'll finally be free." You stretch your arms up in the air and cheer. You were too busy celebrating to notice how soft Jamie's expression had become. 
He loved seeing you act yourself around him, a big jump from when you used to glare at him around the office. He had denied it for a while, but Jamie started to like you around the time he'd gotten back from Man City. 
You knew him before then, when he was a massive prick who stepped over — even literally at times, — his teammates. But after he returned, you felt bad for the guy for how the rest of the team was treating him, no matter if he deserved it. Ted had told you about what they talked about when Jamie approached him about joining the team again, and a part of you felt like he needed at least some kind of welcoming presence in the building. 
You started greeting him more often when you ran into each other in the halls and sometimes offered him the candies you keep in your desk drawer whenever he passed your desk, just small things. Jamie would usually just end up hanging out with you during his breaks because he didn’t have anyone else to spend it with. The first few times, he would just sit there in silence while you worked, but one “How’s your day going?” from you, and he was more than willing to chat.
Then, of course, he gradually regained the team’s trust and started hanging out with them, but even then, your little interactions with him didn't stop. He'd invite you whenever the team had a get-together and would sometimes drop bags of candies at your desk to "re-stock" your drawer. You just thought it was his way of returning your kindness. But what you didn't realize was that the star football player was starting to fall for you. 
Jamie tried to ignore it, saying to himself that he just felt indebted to you, but then it started to manifest in different ways. How he would try and come up with reasons to approach you the next day, how he'd get distracted whenever you had to visit the pitch during practice, and how your awkward habits became something he looked forward to. It's been a while since he felt like this about anyone and was more anxious about rejection than he's felt about any of his games, so he didn't make any obvious pass at you.
So now, as you asked the receptionist where the Director of Football Operations was, Jamie decided to wait for you to spend as much time with you as possible. 
You notice Jamie staying back and relayed the information to him. "Higgins is introducing them to the team, so I guess I'll be going with you to the locker room." You nudge him with your shoulder as you continue to walk through the building. You've always tried your best to ask casual with Jamie, possibly in an effort to make yourself feel normal around him and not constantly blushing every time he looked at you.
As you approach the room, you hear Higgins explaining what the new assistant would be doing for the players. "So if ever you need help with anything I've listed, you can go to Anthony Perez here, instead."
Anthony Perez. No fucking way. You and Jamie enter the locker room and are instantly greeted by the sight of an old friend.
"Anthony, you fucking bastard!" You scream enthusiastically, causing everyone in the room to turn to you, including Anthony. It takes him a second before registering who you were. The moment he does, he raises his arms and you practically leap into him for a hug.
"Oh my god!" Anthony exclaims, as he lets go of you and puts you down.
"I didn't know you were the new assistant!" You lightly smack his arm.
"I didn't know you even worked here!" He defends himself as the two of you turn to find the entire team's eyes on you, including Jamie's.
"Shit, sorry," You laugh as you make some distance between you and Anthony. "Didn't mean to make our reunion so dramatic."
"I assume you two know each other?" Higgins asks and you both nod.
"Anthony and I went to school together," You quickly explain. "From sixth form to uni. Of course, I haven't heard from him in two years." You jokingly glare, causing him to roll his eyes.
"Sorry, I got busy, okay?" He whispers an apology before you both chuckle again.
"Well, I hope your friendship will make it easier to help him get accustomed to the job." You smile at Higgins before the three of you excuse yourself to let the players get ready for training. 
You're so engrossed in catching up with Anthony that you didn't even notice the look Jamie was giving him. 
"They seem close!" Dani innocently says as he puts his shoes on.
"You don't think something is going on with them, do you?" Colin chimes in.
"Well, she's never even mentioned him before, so I doubt it," Sam argues, but Isaac shakes his head. "Nah bruv, that hug was way too intimate for just friends."
"I've seen her hug Keeley and Rebecca like that, too. That might just be how she greets her friends." Jan offers and the team continues to debate it, but at that point, Jamie has had enough. It was already shit having to watch that interaction, but having your teammates talk about it as you pretend not to care? It could not get any worse.
Jamie pulls out a can of body spray from his locker and slams it closed, before turning to everyone. "Can everyone just stop talking about it and get ready?" 
The room goes quiet, as the football player turns around and starts getting changed. The rest of the team exchange looks, before getting ready themselves. Most of them had a hunch that something was going on between the two of you but didn't have any proof, until now. They just hoped they were wrong about you and Anthony, in an attempt to stop Mt. Jamie from erupting.
——
For most players, if something happened right before training that put them in a sour mood, it would mess up their performance on the pitch. Of course, Jamie wasn't like most players. He might be playing even better during that training period. The coaches didn't even have to give him the signal; he was already in 'prick' mode. 
Maybe it was the appearance of Anthony or the fact that you had never been that excited to see him even though he thought you guys were becoming close, but he was playing aggressively and was much more focused than he needed to be for a practice game. The coaches started to take notice after he viciously tackled one of the second teams. 
"Whistle!" Roy shouts, pausing their game. Ted takes a step forward and shouts, "Hey Jamie! Love the passion, but those are still your teammates. Ya'll have a game next week, so better save that attitude for the real one."
"Okay, coach!" Jamie replies through gritted teeth. He takes a deep breath as they continue to play, trying to calm himself down. Ted was right; there was no point in taking out his anger here. Not when the source of said anger was just inside the building.
Once the morning session was over and they were off for lunch, Jamie headed over to Rebecca's office, expecting to see you waiting at the desk outside like you usually were, but instead, he almost runs into the owner of the football club.
"Jamie!" Rebecca exclaims, backing away from the football player to avoid a collision. "What brings you here?" He only needed to glance at the empty table for her to know what was going on. "Oh, well, if you're looking for her, better head to Mr. Higgins' office. She's helping his new assistant get used to the system." 
This causes the player's jaw to clench. Jamie mutters a quick thanks before heading to the Director of Football Operations' office, where he found you hunched over a chair and directing something on the laptop to Anthony.
You had spent the first hour of the day basically catching up with Anthony about what you've been doing the past few years. Once you ran out of stories though, you were forced to actually start teaching him what to do.
You started with the simple things like how to organize the emails, fixing the schedule, and what information to take note of, so you could ask your bosses' about it. Anthony's a quick learner, so you guys were making good progress. Once he practically mastered the routine, the two of you went to the clubhouse cafe to get some early lunch. Most of the food there was pre-packed and they’d usually just microwave it, but over the years, you've developed a fondness for them. You bring back the food to Higgins' office and continue to work on it till you hear someone clearing their throat.
You perk up when you realize who it came from. "Jamie! Hi, what're you doing here?"
Jamie's eyes bounce between the two of you, before settling on your own. "Well, I checked your desk but you weren't there, and Rebecca said you'd probably be here, so I went over here. And now I'm wondering if you wanted to get lunch?"
You move to say yes, but quickly back out when you remember the wrappers on the desk. "Oh, sorry Jamie, Anthony and I just ate something from the cafe cause we wanted to spend the lunchtime working on some emails. Maybe another time?" You try and hide the disappointment in your voice by giving Jamie a small smile.
Jamie's expression falters, but he quickly bounces back. "Sure, no problem. Bye," The football player waves at you — and just you, — before heading back downstairs. He shouldn't be acting like this. Feeling this dejected someone saying she can't have lunch with him?
You weren't fairing that well, either. Your shoulders slump once he disappears from view, then you turn back to Anthony who seems to be holding back a laugh. "What's with you?"
"Nothing, just amused at how even two years later, you still don't know how to talk to the guys you like."
You scoff at his response and hit his shoulder. "What do you mean? I do not like Jamie." You protest, which only causes Anthony to roll his eyes.
"Oh please, it's like you transformed back to a seventeen-year-old the way you got excited when he asked you to get lunch with him." You shake your head, but he continues. "It's clear as day that you have a crush on him."
“That word makes us sound like we're seventeen again," You retort, before redirecting the topic back to the task at hand.
But you knew he was right. Even back in the early days of working here, you couldn't deny that you found Jamie attractive. Anyone with eyes could see it, but he was dating Keeley and was a massive prick, so nothing ever came about from it.
Then, he started spending more time with you, checking up on you and stopping you in the halls just to chat. You realized that he was actually pretty sweet when he was off the pitch and you started to realize that you wanted to spend time with him, not just out of pity like before. Plus, you don't think he's seen anyone in a while, so there really was no reason for you to deny your feelings any longer.
Except, of course, the fear of getting rejected by him and ruining the steady and comfortable relationship you currently have. Which is a good reason, you think. You shake your head and try and continue your work in peace.
After spending your lunch writing up reports, it only took another hour to finish up both your and Anthony's duties, so the two of you update Higgins on your progress and ask if you could observe practice for a bit. He scans through your work, before happily letting the two of you go. The moment you get to the pitch, your eyes instantly look for Jamie who is doing pretty well, to no one's surprise. You join the coaches where they’re standing.
Anthony was already a big football fan, so he was able to recognize almost all of the players on the pitch. In fact, he was even saying things that you weren't aware of, despite your three years of working for the owner of a football club. He bends down to whisper a joke in your ear, but the amusement never hits because soon after, you hear O'Brien groaning in pain. You both look up to see Jamie already helping the goalkeeper up after kicking the ball right into his stomach. 
"Whistle! Tartt, stop fucking injuring your teammates!" Roy shouts, to which Jamie quickly apologizes. The practice game continues, but not without you leaning to ask Beard something.
"Coach, is Jamie okay? He seemed fine when I was with him earlier," You turn your head, as Beard continues to watch the practice.
"He's been playing like that all day. Something must've pissed him off." You open your mouth to say something, but Beard reads your mind. "No, we did not give him the signal." You nod before turning back to the game.
You meet Jamie's eyes as he runs across the pitch, and you take the opportunity to give him a smile and a thumbs up, hoping it encourages him somehow. He only nods his head in acknowledgment before continuing, but you can tell in the next few plays that he seems to be calming down. After a while, you and Anthony decide to head back to the office after Rebecca asks you to send some emails on her behalf.
Jamie watched the two of you head back to the building and tried to ignore that growing feeling when Anthony leaned down and rested his arm on your shoulders. He tries and shakes himself right before continuing the game, ignoring all the possibilities of why he’d do that.
The real reason was that Anthony had decided to tease you, whispering close, "Somebody likes you," in a sing-songy voice. "And his name is Jamie Tartt doo-doo-do-doo—"
That exact remark makes you jab his side. "Shut the fuck up, Anthony. He does not." Anthony lets it go as the two of you reach your desk and he leaves you to do your work, though you can't help but feel warm inside at the thought of it being true.
Once he gets changed after training, Jamie practically ran upstairs to find you. Usually, he'd offer to drive you home and before Anthony, you'd be too tired to be polite and say no. He stopped himself from sending a message to you once he realized that you had already left. Maybe she's with Anthony, but Jamie shakes his head because fuck that. Jamie Tartt does not get hung over a girl. At least, the old him didn't.
New Jamie had been starting to hope that you stayed in the office longer just so he could see you again, even if you would be busy doing work. He sighs as he decides to leave the building when someone jumps in front to scare him. "Boo!"
"Jesus fucking Christ," he exclaims and steps back before seeing you losing your mind over his reaction. "What'd you do that for?"
"I'm sorry," You apologize in between your laughing fits. "I didn't realize how easily startled you were." After a few more seconds, you finally straighten up and lift two plastic bags.
Jamie gives you a confused look, before you explain, "When we went to watch training, Coach Beard said you've been playing like that the whole day which can only mean one thing; you're in a shit mood. And you don't have to tell me why, but,"
You hand him one of the bags and one whiff tells Jamie it's from that Indian restaurant he loves. "I thought some dinner would cheer you up," Jamie gives you a genuine smile, one you got used to seeing but always love when it shows up. “Because there’s nothing rich people love more than free food.” You add, causing him to roll his eyes.
"Plus, I wanted to make up for not having lunch with you, and celebrate the fact that I now actually have the time to do this again." You continue as the two of you walk over to Jamie's car.
You get in the passenger seat as Jamie turns the car on. The two of you have shared dinner there multiple times before, so you practically had a system for it, and Jamie always "pays you back" by giving you a ride home. You open all the dishes and Jamie quickly starts to devour it.
The two of you enjoy the dinner in silence, — except for the occasional "Pass the pita," or something of the sort — till Jamie decides to ask the burning question that’s been on his mind. "So, how did you and Anthony get so close?" It was an innocent question, but one whose answer could either ease Jamie's thoughts or amplify them ten-fold.
You look up at him, mid-bite, and quickly swallow the food, before replying, "Well, you already know we went to school together, but we were actually seated next to each other for a whole semester, so naturally we became close since we saw each other every day."
Jamie starts to clean up the empty containers but signals you to continue. "To be honest, I kinda liked him back then." Oblivious to how tense Jamie just got, you laugh. "But the crush didn't last long honestly, cause I realized that he wasn't really my type." 
Jamie takes the opportunity. "What is your type, then?"
"Oh, hot footballers, naturally." You decide to give a somewhat honest answer, but cloak it in a layer of sarcasm to hopefully throw Jamie off. "Like Richard," You try and convince Jamie with your tone, but you can barely hold in your laughter afterward.
"Oh fuck off," Jamie rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh even harder. "I'm telling him that tomorrow."
"Jamie Tartt, you fucking wouldn't!" You spend the rest of the ride to your flat trying to get him to promise to say nothing, which ends with a pinky promise to secrecy.
The next few days are a mix of hanging out with Anthony, eating meals with Jamie, and finishing up work so you can spend the rest of the day chilling at your desk. You almost forgot what it felt like to have free time and actually relax during work breaks.
You arrive at the clubhouse and immediately head to the Coach's office as per Rebecca's instructions to deliver some documents for the season. There, you meet up with Anthony who also had to bring something to Ted.
When you realize the coach hasn't arrived yet, you decide to wait outside the locker room. Anthony turns to you. "Hey, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but Mina's visiting!" Mina was Anthony's girlfriend and also your former classmate, who once again, you haven't seen in two years. You perk up and ask when you’d get the chance to see her.
Anthony pulls out his phone before responding, "I can make a reservation for us somewhere at, 7 pm?" You quickly scan your mental to-do list and once you realize your schedule is free, you nod.
"Yeah, that works! We'll both be done with work, anyway." 
The two of you are busy planning out your meeting with Mina that you don't notice Isaac and Colin eavesdropping as they make their way to the locker room. From the snippet that they heard, it sounded like the two of you were planning a night out, confirming their suspicions that there was something going on between the two of you.
They share this with Sam, who tries to reason with them. "Friends can go out to dinner without it meaning anything!"
But as they continue discussing it, the more it becomes harder to deny. I mean, the two of you were always together and not to mention, your shared history. They try and hide this from Jamie, — partly to save themselves from the football player's wrath during training, — but once the morning session was over, they crowd him and quickly explain the situation.
At this moment, Jamie didn't even protest their assumption of his feelings — he had accepted that he wasn’t the best at hiding it from them, — and simply stayed silent, which was incredibly worrying. They decide to leave him be and walk back to their lockers, trying to figure out a game plan. They thought you and Jamie would be great together and a guy from your past was not going to stand in the way of their teammate finding someone, not if they have anything to do with it.
Soon after, Anthony enters the locker room and calls out to Sam. The pair walk away to talk and Anthony starts, "Do you happen to have an open table at Ola's tonight? I'm planning to take someone special there and I know how great the food is."
"Well," Sam considers saying that they're fully booked — which big chance, they are, — and there's nothing he could do, but his guilt at even the thought of lying takes over. "Sure, don't worry." Anthony smiles and thanked the player before heading out, but not before promising that he'd send him the proper details later.
Sam heads back to his two teammates and explains what happened, to which Isaac suggests booking the whole restaurant for the team, crashing their date, and making sure they have no alone time together. Colin adds that they can possibly put something in Anthony's food to force him to go home earlier, which Sam quickly shuts down. They turn to Jamie to get his input, only to find an empty bench instead.
Said teammate was already making his way to your desk to talk. Maybe it was the adrenaline from practice or the fact that he drank three cups of coffee this morning after Roy's training session, but he wasn't going to let you go on that date without saying something.
Jamie makes it up the stairs and finds you typing away at your computer. You meet his eyes for a second, before warning, "Hold on, I'm just finishing this email."
The football player decidedly ignores that statement and exclaims, "Don't go on that date." That gets you to save the email as a draft and look up from your screen. Jamie walks closer to you and you stand up, and steer him to a remote corner. If this was what you thought it was, you’d rather not have the entire office witness it go down.
"I'm sorry, what?" You try and clarify.
"Look, some of the boys told me that you and Anthony are going out tonight and I," Jamie takes a breath, "I couldn't let you go through with it. At least, without admitting that I like you. I have liked you for a while now. I didn’t realize that someone could be so sweet and funny and attractive. It’s fucking insane actually, which is why if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to spend as much time with you as I can. And I know it’s stupid of me to not have admitted it till it’s too late, but if by chance you feel the same, then please do not go on that date and instead, maybe go on one with me?”
You take a step back. The guy who you've secretly been pining over for how many months at this point is now trying to stop you from going on a "date,” and so the only thing you can do is stare at him. You stay like that for a second before regaining your senses and taking his hand into yours and giving him a small smile. "Jamie…"
If there was any right time to admit your feelings, this would be it. You open your mouth to continue, but hear Anthony call out to you. You peek over the corner and when Anthony spots you, he quickly shouts, "Look who stopped by!" and moves to reveal Mina.
"Oh my god, you're here!" You exclaim, but turn back to Jamie who has stopped in his tracks and is still holding your hand. You quickly excuse yourself, "It's so nice to see you, but could you actually give me a minute?"
The couple gives you a curious look before Jamie peeks his head over the corner and Anthony immediately understands. The two of them go back downstairs, and you assume Anthony uses the time to explain to Mina what’s going on.
You turn back to Jamie, hoping that the moment isn't ruined, and find the football player still looking at you intently. You decide to get on with it. "Jamie, I don't know why the team thought we were going on a date, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. The girl you just saw is Anthony's girlfriend, Mina, who we also went to school with." Jamie makes an 'o' with his mouth in realization and you lightly chuckle at his expression.
"She's visiting him for the weekend and we're planning to go out to dinner, the three of us, to catch up. I'm basically going to be a third-wheel all night." At this point, Jamie's expression is a cross of embarrassment and anger, likely directed at his gossiping teammates.
Your mind replays Jamie’s confession earlier. "Jamie, did you mean what you said?" Your voice is practically a whisper, but you just have to be sure. "Like right before we got interrupted?"
Instead of giving you a solid answer, Jamie lets go of your hand and cups your face before connecting your lips. It was a soft and gentle kiss as if the football player was still hesitant, but once you reciprocated it, Jamie's confidence came right back. Fuck, and he had every right to be as cocky as he was. He was an amazing kisser.
You're pressed up against the wall, almost getting lost in it, but you break apart to stop it from escalating further when you feel Jamie's hand travel to your thigh.
"Is that enough of an answer for you?" He asks, resting his forehead against yours as you take hold of his forearms. You simply roll your eyes at how easily Jamie returns to his usual self.
You peak down the corridor and thank the universe that no one passed by during this. The two of you separate and decide to head back downstairs — with Jamie never letting go of your hand, — so you could properly greet Mina.
As you walked, you decide to jokingly question, "Were you really that worried about me going on a date that you had to go all rom-com and tell me not to go?" 
Jamie protests, "Well, it's more of the boys' fault, isn't it? They're the ones who got in my head." He pauses for a second. "And don't act like you never wanted something like that to happen to you."
You jab his side and Jamie pretends to be in pain, before laughing it off and slinging his arm on your shoulders. You wrap your arm around his torso. "Only if it's 'one in a million' Jamie Tartt doing it."
You finally find Anthony and Mina in the locker room, with the former introducing her to the players there as his girlfriend. Jamie enters to find the three culprits, looking guiltily at the couple. Minutes after Jamie left, Sam had gotten a text from Anthony saying that their reservation was for three and explained that you were coming along for a reunion dinner with his girlfriend.
The moment they see the two of you enter the room though, Colin, Isaac, and Sam can't help but share a satisfied look, only to be ruined by the glare Jamie sends their way. You laugh at the exchange and only remove yourself from Jamie to greet Mina. You give her a tight hug, confirming Jan's observation that you did greet most of your friends like that.
You pull Jamie towards you and introduce him to Mina, who shares the same teasing look as Anthony. The couple waves at the team to leave and get lunch together. They invite you to join them which you accept, but not before grabbing and squeezing Jamie's hand as a goodbye. The three of you walk away, discussing nearby cafes and restaurants. You hear some cheering from the locker room and you can't help but laugh at how easily the boys reconcile.
Once there's enough distance between yourself and the room, Anthony leans down. "Guess you finally figured out how to talk to boys."
"Who knew it would be Jamie fucking Tartt that managed to get you out of your shell?" Mina adds and you roll your eyes at the pair. They really were made for each other.
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ldknightshade · 2 months
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how to write a morally grey character (and keep them from being a total bore)
so. your other characters have a “clear” distinction of good and evil - that is, from your perspective, your other characters have a distinction of good and evil that aligns with your own and would generally be considered by societal standards to fall under one of two groups… but now you want to make a guy that breaks those boundaries.
look no further.
i. myths
first step is giving them a balance of good and bad traits
1. every character should have this???
2. every trait works on a sliding scale; when amped up to 11, good traits can become bad ones
those who are morally grey are unpredictable
to YOU and those they interact with, maybe… if they do not have a clear moral code of their own, of course they’ll seem this way. but they’re actually quite predictable if you actually comprehend what their motives and values are.
example: Herbert West from Re-Animator’s only motivation is re-animation of the dead. this may be evil to some, noble to others… but is it unpredictable? not really. i think we all know not to trust this man around corpses.
example: Charles Foster Offdensen from Metalocalypse’s only motivation is ensuring the health, safety, and happiness of Dethklok. he goes incredible lengths (war crimes, literally) to do so; this is evil to some, noble to others… but it he unpredictable? not really. if Dethklok is in danger, then he has dropped everything to save them and is doing so as we speak.
they’re relatable / more human
see above examples. moral greyness is not inherently relatable; in some cases, it would be argued that they shouldn’t be. either way, their moral greyness does not make them any more or less human than any other character. their moral greyness makes them morally grey and that’s that.
you need to show them doing both good things and bad things
wrong. you need to show them doing things that align with their personal motivations and values. if your character wouldn’t do it, why force it? this goes both ways.
they need to be sympathetic / have understandable reasons
anyone saying this is afraid of making characters truly morally grey. sympathy is not something that defines morals, anyway; but regardless, sugarcoating their actions and motives by making them a poor little meow meow on purpose is… bullshit. if every morally grey character was sympathetic, fiction as a whole would be dull.
ii. values
this is the real meat of it. what does your character value? is it something practical, like revenge or power? or something wackier like the previously mentioned examples?
clearly define the values your character holds and how it shapes their goals.
iii. motivation / lengths
now… how hard does motivation hit them? how far do they go? where do they draw the line? is there a line for them?
would your character lie to meet their goals? cheat? steal? manipulate? maim? vandalize? kill?
even amongst those, is there specific lines they won’t cross? would your character go as far as killing, but draw the line at children and animals?
and amongst those lines… what would make them cross it? does your character value honesty, but would lie to protect someone? are they a pacifist… but believe followers of certain schools of thought deserve a baseball to kneecaps and won’t hesitate to act on that?
draw out the line for them and then examine their exceptions. this is what will make it seem to other characters that their morality is a roulette wheel; when, in actuality, there is a line of logic that your morally grey character is following.
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empresskylo · 7 months
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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 12 ⬅ch.11
➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | wc 3.5k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sooooooooo sorry if this seems ooc for ghost. i wanted to write him acting more empathetic while also maintaining his cold demeanor. i think some people tend to write him one way or the other and so i tried to balance it a bit more to be realistic. but if this felt ooc for ghost im so sorry!! feedback is appreciated so i can improve upcoming chapters! &lt;3
𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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the startling realization that you were sleeping in simon’s room is what woke you up that following morning. you sat up in his bed, the covers falling away from your chest, and you noticed he was gone. it was strange how this was the second time you shared a bed—completely platonically—with him and he was m.i.a. come morning.
you tried not to think too deeply about it, not wanting to get your feelings hurt even more than they already were. you were able to put what had happened between the two of you in the back of your mind yesterday, squishing down his words that hurt you so badly. 
you looked good in your dress. that’s all. m’sorry.
but that was yesterday. that was when he was the first face you saw after thinking you were about to be tortured. the face that rescued you. that was when he carried you back to base, his arms around you like a safety blanket. when he was the sense of security you desperately needed. when you felt like you needed him. 
this morning, your mind was far clearer. you even realized how stupid you were to let simon be that person for you when johnny was right there. 
you scurried from his room, still draped in his shirt, and made it back to your own. you told yourself you would visit the infirmary today, not for work, but to get yourself checked out. you weren’t hurt too badly, nothing that couldn’t heal with a little time. but still, you should really get checked over. and you were sure laswell or price would want to have a word with you about everything that happened. 
before you even managed to shift through your thoughts, johnny was at your door.
“how’re ya feelin’?” 
you grabbed your toiletries bag and spun to face to scot. “i’m okay.”
he gave you a once over. “are you sure?” he said a bit softer.
you gave him a gentle smile. “don’t worry, i’m just going to shower. then straight to the infirmary to get checked out.” you gave him a mock salute. 
johnny shook his head as he followed you out your door and down the hall towards the showers. “no, not that.” you glanced at him. “well, no, of course i wanted to make sure you were gonna be seen by a medic, but i was referring to the… psychological side of things.”
you laughed at his phrasing. “i’ll be okay, johnny. seriously. i mean, i know what happened terrified me and hasn’t left my thoughts since, but i could be a lot worse.” you were trying to make light of the situation. and while johnny understood that all too well, he still wasn’t convinced you were truly back to normal just a day after your kidnapping. 
you were taken a bit back. for once, soap didn’t seem to appreciate your humor. “and with ghost?” 
you almost dropped your bag, stumbling in your steps. “w-what about him?” 
“i saw him carrying you into base. the way ya clung to him. i just want t’make sure you’re okay.” his eyes trailed the shirt you were wearing—'swimming in' was more accurate—knowing it wasn't yours, but ghost's.
you sighed before spinning to face him. you wanted to make this very clear to soap: “he was the first person i saw. he was the one i saw close on my tail when i was trapped in that truck. he was the face who barged into that room after slaughtering men, pulling me out of that hole. i think i was just overwhelmed and felt like i needed him . y’know… a safety thing. but that has passed. i’m fine. fine .” soap raised a brow, not quite believing you. “nothing happened,” you said a bit bashful, noticing the way soap was staring at you like he thought more had gone down last night, and wearing ghost's shirt sure wasn't helping. “he just kept me company so i could fall asleep without thinking about…” your words trailed off. “point is, i appreciate you looking out for me, but i’m okay. i won’t let him…” a beat of silence passed as you looked for the words. “i won’t read things wrong again.” the sentence was a struggle to get out; like ash on your tongue.
you could see the concern on johnny’s face, so before he could protest and pry more, you slipped into the women’s showers so he couldn’t follow.
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after showering and visiting the infirmary—-yes, you have been cleared—-you were making your way to price’s office. you assumed laswell would be there as well. 
you adjusted your black shirt as you strolled the halls, careful to not move in any way that would hurt your sore ribs. you walked past the gym, peeking in to see if you could spot gaz, surprised he hadn’t come to see you yet, and you almost choked on your spit.
you spotted simon—- ghost—- across the room in workout gear, addressing a new recruit. you hadn’t recognized her but you knew there were new recruits coming in this week so you assumed her to be one of them. 
you tried to pull your eyes away, but they were latched on to the tall brute and the shorter woman beside him. ghost hunched over slightly as he spoke to her and you saw her smile. her hand reached out and touched his arm softly and you felt your fists clench. 
ghost wasn’t yours . 
he was barely even your friend. he could flirt with whoever he wanted. it shouldn’t matter to you. and you knew you were overreacting. who's to say they were flirting? you hadn’t known ghost to be the best charmer, so why would he all of a sudden be cozying up to a woman he only just met?
soap’s words popped into your head: come to think of it. i don’t think i’ve known ghost to have hooked up with anyone since i’ve met the bastard.
all these rational thoughts and yet you ignored them. all you felt was a pang in your gut as you watched him instruct her, testing her skills, his hand lingering on her hip a bit too long. his eyes locked on hers. 
you didn’t feel any tears welling—so that was an improvement—all you felt was disappointment. ghost was emotionally unavailable. he also explicitly said he didn’t want you. this fantasy you had of him in your head was purely that: a fantasy. 
you had thought maybe he felt differently with the way his eyes traced your curves last night in the light of the bathroom. that maybe him letting you see him with his mask off was him letting you in. that he wanted to form some sort of relationship with you even if it was foreign to him.
but all of those thoughts went out the door. there were so many reasons why it would never work between the two of you. seeing him with that woman wasn’t what made you feel that way. all it did was remind you of the reality of your situation.
you sulked into price’s office, the smell of cigars filling your nose.
price’s warm greeting, his gentle smile, and his all-over fatherly presence set you back at ease. 
when laswell entered, her soothing hand on your shoulder reminded you that you could live so fucking easily without ghost. you had a family here. and while you had hoped to let ghost become one of those people to you, it wasn’t the end of the world by any means if he didn’t.
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a week had passed and you had resorted to pretending like anything private that ever happened between you and ghost had never occurred. you weren’t going to sulk over him any longer. you thought he was attractive. that was it. you hooked up once and it didn’t work out. you were an adult, you could move on. 
you laughed animatedly at soap, grabbing his arm in your fit. ghost spotted you across the training room, your laughter floating over into his space, pissing him off.
he expected you to have wanted to talk to him after that night in his room. but you never did. you never sought him out. never came by to let him know everything at the infirmary checked out okay. granted, he never came after you either. 
he got up when he saw you leaving and followed you out the door. 
“iaso,” he called.
you stopped and spun to face him, smiling. “what’s up, lt.?” 
ghost was a bit taken aback by your friendly demeanor. not that you weren’t a friendly person, but you were acting oddly like nothing ever happened. like ghost hadn’t pulled you into his arms a week ago, his chest pounding and his arms shaking as he held you.
“jus’ wanted to see if you were okay,” he said dumbly.
“all good. don’t worry, i’ve been cleared to be back to work.” you smiled then turned and walked away.
ghost had never been left so dumbfounded before. he cracked his knuckles in annoyance.
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you seemed to be ignoring him. 
whenever ghost entered a room you were in, you’d leave. he saw you linking arms with soap as you walked the halls, never meeting ghost’s eyes. he knew soap was visiting you in the infirmary on your breaks and he always seemed awkward when it came up between them. you even managed to get out of a poker session where ghost was present. you had stood up the second he walked into that room, calling it a night and tossing your cards in the middle of the table.
“she’s ignoring me,” ghost huffed as he shuffled through the dossiers on his desk. he was acting like he had any claim over you. like he had a right to your friendship.
“who?” soap asked. ghost looked up and glared at his friend. “i think you give yourself too much credit. she’s not ignoring you, lt. she’s just accepted your rejection and moved on with her life.”
“i didn’t reject her.”
soap rolled his eyes. “you really wanna go down that road?” 
ghost mumbled in annoyance as he stared at the words on the paper before him. 
“didn’t think you’d care, if i’m being honest.”
ghost glared at soap, waiting for him to elaborate since he clearly wanted to further this conversation.
“ her opinion of you ,” soap clarified. “you made it pretty clear you wanted nothing from her, so i just assumed that meant you wouldn’t be bothered by her ignoring you n’all.” 
ghost tapped his pen on his desk. “so she is ignoring me, then.”
“i didn’t say that.”
ghost knew he couldn’t fight logistics with soap, with soap being… soap and all. “we have actual shit t’go over. important intel before we depart friday.” 
soap slipped into the chair in front of ghost’s desk. “you started it.” 
“i didn’t—- bloody hell ,” he grumbled rubbing his hand over his face. soap tried to hold back his smirk. 
“y’know she’s coming with us,” soap said, referencing the mission soon to happen in the coming days based on the information the men had acquired from valeria. 
“well aware,” ghost said flatly. 
the idea of you being forced to be in ghost’s proximity tomorrow, knowing you couldn’t avoid it like you had been, made his chest swell slightly. he didn’t want to admit this to himself, but he wanted you to want him. desperately . and hearing soap talk about you, always seeing the two of you together, ghost felt like he was pushing you straight into his friend’s arms. 
he should have been okay with that. whether he found you attractive or not, he shouldn’t have felt jealous when he saw you with soap. he’s found plenty of women attractive, and plenty of them were involved with someone else. that usually didn’t bother ghost at all. he was fine admiring pretty ladies knowing they would never be his. he didn’t want them to be his. so this resentment he was feeling towards soap was new to him. 
he unclenched his fist. 
“jus’ wanna make sure you’re gonna behave yourself,” soap chimed. 
“christ, johnny. i’m not—”
soap cut him off. “i’m serious, lt. i know i don’t have this kind of authority, but she doesn’t deserve whatever it is that's going on inside your twisted head.” soap gestured widely at ghost, implying he was all sorts of messed up. “i’d die protecting her. and if it means i’d have to die in your clutches, then so be it.”
ghost refrained from rolling his eyes and soap’s dramatics. though, he did admire soap’s loyalty. 
shifting the conversation away from you, ghost debriefed soap on prep for the coming mission, letting him know— almost —everything planned. 
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it was late when ghost spotted you. you didn’t see him as he stalked you around the bend of the hallway.
finally, you were alone. not linking arms with soap or laughing with gaz. you were alone as you walked through the halls of the barracks. if you had known ghost would have spotted you, you would have likely stayed in your room. but you had no idea the masked man was trailing behind you. 
ghost hadn't been planning on talking to you, irate by the way you’ve been ignoring him, but when he saw you, his feet moved on their own accord. the hall lights flickered, creating an ominous glow. he surmised you were heading back to the infirmary even though he knew your shift was already over. maybe you forgot something?
and then one of ghost’s steps was a tad too loud because you looked over your shoulder and he watched as your eyes widened momentarily. you scrunched up your nose and faced forward, your pace increasing. “are you following me?”
“this is my quarters jus’ as much as it is yours,” he grunted. 
you rolled your eyes. “well… it's plenty big enough. you could always go a different way.”
“still not talkin’ to me, then?”
you could sense him catching up and it made the hackles on your neck rise. “what’re you—”
“i know you’ve been ignoring me. don’t try t’lie your way outta this.”
you turned around and began to walk backward so you could face him when you spoke. “i’m not really in the mood to have this conversation right now.” you crossed your arms over your chest. 
“well, good thing i wasn’t askin’.”
your mouth parted in surprise at his bluntness. you quickly spun on your heels, not wanting the emotions you had been shoving down for the past week to come back up. if you could just avoid him a little longer, you’d be able to move on. if he would only just—
in your nerves, you reached a dead end of one of the many barren halls. you were going to turn and scurry past him, not even wanting to grab your bag you left in the infirmary any longer, you just wanted to get away from him. but before you had the chance, ghost’s arms were on either side of your head, hands flat against the wall, caging you into his chest. your back was to him and your only view was the blank drywall. the corner he had you trapped in was dark and you figured even if you did spin to face the beast behind you, you wouldn’t be able to make much of him out. you hated that a swirl of arousal filled your stomach remembering him being this close to you in that tiny closet he shoved the two of you into all those weeks ago. 
“ghost, i don’t wanna—”
“ simon ,” he said a little aggressively. 
you gulped, his words grazing the edge of your neck as he spoke. you were quiet as you waited for him to say more. “you sure you’re ready to go back out on location?” he asked, referring to the upcoming mission you were going to be a part of. 
“is that it? you’re worried i’m broken or some shit like that?” your words screamed irritation, but your voice sounded more hurt than angry. “that i don’t know my own limits and can’t decide when i’m good to be back? that i’ll slow you down? i told you i was cleared!” you knew you were inferring a lot from his one little sentence, but you wanted to be mad. to be angry at him. 
“i didn’t say that.”
“no. but it’s what you meant.”
you heard ghost sigh and his hands dropped down to his side. you felt the warmth of his chest still behind you so you didn’t dare move to look at him.
“i know what it’s like t’lose everyone you love,” he started. 
“what does that have to do with any—-?”
“would you jus’ shut up for one second n’ listen for once?” 
you swallowed hard and nodded your head. he let out a breath. he knew he had snapped at you, but this was difficult for him. he wanted to get this out before he second-guessed himself and let you walk away forever. 
“i lost my entire family to men a lot more evil than me. did everythin’ in my power to get revenge. so i know what it’s like to love and t’lose.”
“did it help?” you asked softly. “revenge?”
you could hear the tension in ghost’s words as he mumbled them behind you. the only reason he was able to answer this question was due to the fact that you were turned away from him. if you two had been looking into each other’s eyes… he didn’t think he’d have to ability to open up. “depends how ya look at it. that kind’a dedication to death—never stoppin’ till you feel blood on your hands—takes a toll on ya. i think it’s what made me so… unbearable. but the general doesn’t seem t’think so. made me a stronger soldier in shepherd’s eyes.”
you felt your breath waver as you listened. 
“i wouldn’t have jus’ killed for them, i woulda died. it was years ago now that i was captured on duty. was tortured. buried alive. locked up. abused.” simon cleared his throat. “think it made me unwillin’ to let people in , as you would word it. i don’t know if i could survive another loss like that, like when i lost my mother and brother. s’not a feelin’ i ever plan on livin’ through again.”
“simon…”
“and you, ” he said a bit more potently. “you have been messin’ everythin’ up. when you n’ laswell were taken… it felt like when i saw my brother and his wife dead on their living room floor. the only thing i saw was red. i woulda done anything t’get you back. i couldn’t let this happen again. i couldn’t fail the people i cared about again.”
it pained you to know that simon placed all the blame on anything bad happening to those around him on himself. “laswell, too?” you said, but more as a question. you were purposefully trying to avoid the romantic ideation behind his words.
“no,” he said immediately, without a second thought. “course i wanted her back. but it didn’t feel the same as the way i wanted you.”
i wanted you . those words made your chest tighten. 
“why are you telling me all this?” you finally asked after a lull. 
“i jus’ wanted you t’know that i don’t mean t’hurt you. that maybe i needa try harder. and that… i’m sorry.”
you felt a single tear escape and slide down your cheek. you took a moment to steady your breathing, trying to reel in all of simon’s words.
when you spun to face him, unsure of what you’d find in his expression, you gasped. he was gone. you didn’t even hear him as he took off down the hall with your back still to him. 
eventually, walking alone back to your room, you let the tears fall freely. you cried for simon’s past. for his losses. for your own losses. for the strange sense of love you felt radiating off of him as he told you he’d move the world just to get you back safely. for the stupid feelings you had brewing in your chest. for the way you couldn’t decide if you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or if you wanted to hold him as he told you more. 
simon felt like he couldn’t let someone else in. that he wouldn’t survive it. but you wouldn’t leave him if he did. and you needed to tell him that. you needed to show him that he might be a bit broken, lost from his path, but you’d help him find the light again, as cheesy as that sounded. you would show him how beautiful it was to love even after losing so much. that it was possible. he deserved to be loved. he deserved to be happy. he wasn’t some emotionless robot, no matter what the army thought of him. and you wanted to help him realize that. 
chapter 13 ➡
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theereina · 1 month
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🦋 THAT GIRL CHALLENGE 🦋
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Start a daily gratitude journal to cultivate a positive mindset.
Practice mindfulness meditation for at least 10 minutes each day.
Set specific, achievable goals for yourself in all areas of your life.
Read a self-improvement book or listen to a motivational podcast each week.
Create a budget and track your expenses to improve your financial literacy.
Take a new fitness class or try a different workout routine to stay active and healthy.
Volunteer your time to a cause you're passionate about.
Practice self-care regularly, whether it's through skincare, baths, or relaxation techniques.
Develop a morning routine that sets a positive tone for your day.
Learn a new skill or hobby that interests you, such as painting, cooking, or coding.
Practice forgiveness and let go of grudges or resentments from the past.
Surround yourself with positive, supportive people who uplift and inspire you.
Start a savings account or investment portfolio to secure your financial future.
Practice assertiveness and boundary-setting in your relationships.
Spend time in nature to recharge and reconnect with yourself.
Take a solo trip to explore new places and gain independence.
Eat a balanced diet with plenty of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains.
Schedule regular check-ups with your healthcare providers for preventive care.
Practice saying "no" to obligations or activities that drain your energy.
Explore different forms of spirituality or connect with your spiritual beliefs.
Declutter your living space to create a more organized and peaceful environment.
Practice random acts of kindness to spread positivity in your community.
Learn to manage stress through techniques like deep breathing or progressive muscle relaxation.
Attend workshops or seminars to continue learning and growing personally and professionally.
Set aside time for creative expression, whether it's through writing, drawing, or crafting.
Practice self-reflection to identify areas for growth and improvement.
Cultivate a mindset of abundance and gratitude rather than scarcity and fear.
Set boundaries around technology use to prioritize real-life connections.
Experiment with different styles and fashion choices to express your unique personality.
Create a vision board to visualize your goals and aspirations.
Practice self-compassion and treat yourself with kindness and understanding.
Explore your passions and interests to find what truly lights you up.
Develop a morning or evening skincare routine to care for your skin.
Take up a regular exercise routine, whether it's yoga, running, or weightlifting.
Practice effective communication skills to express yourself clearly and assertively.
Set aside time for hobbies and activities that bring you joy and fulfillment.
Invest in experiences rather than material possessions for long-lasting happiness.
Foster gratitude by expressing appreciation for the people and things in your life.
Practice forgiveness, both towards others and yourself, to release negative emotions.
Engage in acts of self-love, such as positive affirmations and pampering sessions.
Cultivate a sense of curiosity and wonder by exploring new ideas and perspectives.
Invest in your education and personal development through courses or workshops.
Practice empathy and compassion towards others, seeking to understand their perspectives.
Practice mindfulness in everyday activities, such as eating and walking.
Set realistic expectations for yourself and celebrate your progress along the way.
Surround yourself with supportive friends and mentors who encourage your growth.
Create a financial plan to save for future goals, such as buying a home or traveling.
Practice gratitude by keeping a daily journal of things you're thankful for.
Take time to relax and recharge by engaging in activities you enjoy.
Reflect on your values and priorities to ensure your actions align with your true self.
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sirzeldrizz · 3 months
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♡a small collective of acts of love of a wide variety. It comes in many forms and isn't always truly apparent. Depending on personality, preferences, and mannerisms. Tried to make sure they're gender neutral & well balanced for the different tropes ♡
Helping them put on jewelery, a muted rosey hue tinting their cheeks as their fingertips graze the others skin.
Taking the others perspective into consideration when making big decisions. They don't want to upset or cross any lines the one they admire may have.
Respects any and all boundaries of their partner, even if they can't quite understand them. Is every patient with them, and will try to understand the best they can.
Gives specific gifts that will invoke the best reactions. They get so giddy when their partner or friends are happy.
will sing around them, even if not the greatest at it.
remembers the finest of detail about their partner. will even write it down if they fear they will forget it.
uplifts them whenever they are feeling low, encourages their dreams within reason so not to provide any false hopes.
will hold the other accountable for their own good and will also help solve any problems that arise because of said accountability.
packs things they know the other will likely forget when going on trips.
includes them in their favorite activities, showing them their own tips and tricks for it.
let's the other passionately ramble on about whatever has caught their attention, without judgment, and will engage regularly with questions or shared curiosity.
will record their favorite TV shows so when they visit they can still watch it if they want to.
shares their favorite books/songs/things together
platonic kisses and hugs
tidying shared spaces so the other doesn't have to worry about it
cooking together (bonus if they're learning a new recipe together)
very appreciative of the others' efforts (even if they fail. almost especially if they fail because at least they attempted for the good of their behalf)
will cover the other if they find them sleeping, and sometimes, will relocate them to a more comfortable location/position.
protective of the others' hopes/dreams/beliefs
stands up to anyone who threatens the other, even if unmatched. How dare someone think they have the right to insult someone so close to them without consequences?
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avoids topics in conversation that make the other uncomfortable or irritable when possible.
buys them things that they've noticed has piqued their other's attention or that they might need.
is the "HE SAID NO PICKLES" type of friend/significant other.
takes the time to look into and learn about things that interests the other, even if they don't quite enjoy it to the same degree. Likes to be able to engage with them about anything possible.
lighthearted teasing to make the other smile.
holding the others' sleeves when drowsy, or needy.
makes secret wishes on stars for the others' hopes to come true.
subconsciously straightens the others' attire or accessories. somehow, it became second nature to them.
making the other their "only exception" for just about anything.
letters of appreciation
writes a song/scripture/book inspired by the other
dedicated their achievements to their partnership and expressed their gratitude for their role in their life
might get angry when the other endangers themselves but apologises when they realize it isn't helping. They don't mean to snap. They just scared their soul for a second. Don't do that. They can't bear to see/let it happen.
invited the other to family events, even expects them to show up so makes sure to have enough for them too.
randomly brings the other food to ensure they are properly eating
casually "accidentally" orders things and "happens" to think the other would like them.
crafts the other trinkets or art
patiently hears the other out no matter what. Even if it's hard to hear because they want to fully understand.
Disbelieves rumors that damage the others' reputation and will set the record straight if possible. Will always let the other know if something is brewing and offer a solution (How they go about it is dependent on the character)
sends the other messages whenever they're thinking of them or remembers something they know the other will reminisce with them over.
takes care of the other to the best of their ability (pampering/caretaker/gaurdian)
learns a new language so that they can better communicate with the other if they're not fluent in their tongue.
quick to give the benefit of the doubt to the other, even if they know it might not turn out how they hope. They want to only see the good if they can.
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auras-moonstone · 2 months
Note
hiii i rlly love ur writing so if u cld write this i’d actually pass out ‼️
u can pick urself if it’ll be jack, Ethan, hockey player Ethan or even smth else! But what im thinking abt is like where he breaks up with reader because hes convinced he lost his feelings towards her but later on realized he didnt?? Hope u have a good day 🙁
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ all you had to do was stay
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ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.4K
ᡣ𐭩 pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader
ᡣ𐭩 summary: convinced his feelings are gone, ethan breaks up with y/n. when he wins the championship, he realizes he made a mistake.
ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: heartbreak. angst. make-up. fluff.
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ethan truly thought his feelings for y/n had washed away. but it’s wasn’t until now, looking around the arena for her, having just won the hockey championship, that he realized that maybe he had rushed into conclusions and fucked everything up.
the team went to a bar to celebrate, and while his teammates drank and danced, ethan moped by the bar with a drink in his hand, replaying in his head, like a sad movie scene, the moment he ended things with y/n.
why had he been so stupid? he had set in his mind the idea that hockey should be above everything and anyone else, that it was the only thing that mattered. and not only he had managed to slowly tear the most important bond in his life, but he had also fooled himself into thinking the feelings weren’t there anymore.
“hey, man. i’m going home, tara’s waiting for me. talk to you later?” chad asked.
ethan forced a smile and nodded. “yeah, go. i’m leaving in a few, too.”
chad walked out of the bar, and ethan’s heart reached another level of heaviness. his best friend was going home to celebrate with his girlfriend, he had managed to maintain his relationship while having the exact same responsibilities than ethan. the difference? chad had never failed to find balance and see how important life outside hockey was. ethan hadn’t, and now that hockey was over for a while, he realized he had nothing left.
with an emptiness no amount of drinks could ever fill, he walked back to the dorms, where some people were still on cloud nine from the win. he was congratulated, patted in the back, yet he could not enjoy his win completely. not when the guiltiness and regret lingered heavily over him. was it too late to try get back on track the relationship he had drove off the road?
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the celebration was certainly overwhelming for y/n because everything reminded her of ethan and the way he had locked her out when she was letting him in. hell, she was ready to say the l-word when he pushed her aside. the way he had broken her heart was one she remembered all too well, every word, every expression, every little movement.
ethan hovered over her, standing as she sat on the couch. frown on his face, pained expression, as if the act of letting out the words physically hurt him. “i don’t think i- i’m not sure if i… still have feelings for you. i don’t know, i just, it’s not the same as it was a months ago. it’s as if something is missing.”
“did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that you put hockey first?”
“y/n that’s my future. of course i’m going to put hockey first.”
“sorry, let me rephrase that. did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that hockey is all you care about? because it’s always about that. you have stopped having time for me since you became captain. do you even remember the last time you stayed over? that we went on a date? that we spend time together without you worrying over the championship or some other fucking match?”
“y/n…” he sighed.
“well, i can remember. three months, that was the last time you acted like a boyfriend. something was indeed missing in this relationship. you.”
“hockey is everything to me, y/n/n.”
“yes, and that’s the fucking problem, ethan. your whole life can’t revolve sorely on a sport. but you clearly can’t see that, so this is useless.”
that was the last time she spoke to him, but not the last she had seen him. it was impossible not to do that, he was blackmore’s hockey star, he was fucking everywhere. she, on the other hand, managed to hide in the shadows, so she made sure she stayed hidden and not bump into him. until now.
she was leaving tara’s dorm when her eyes caught his wide frame. her feet became one with the floor, not allowing her to move. like magnet, his attention quickly fell on her.
“y/n” her name fell out of his mouth absentmindedly.
at the sound of his rough voice, she snapped out of her daze. her lips parted, but she didn’t know what to say. and then his feet kept going until he was standing right before her. was it too much to ask to disappear?
“hi.” he said after a couple of seconds of silence.
“hi.” her soft voice warmed his heart, and he had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from bringing her into his arms. “um… congratulations. on the win.”
“thanks.” for the first time in the night, he truly felt like smiling.
“shouldn’t you be celebrating?” why was she still talking to him? her brain screamed ‘get out of here’ while her heart told her to stay.
“i wasn’t feeling it.” ethan shrugged.
y/n frowned. “you… weren’t feeling it? ethan, what are you talking about? you’ve worked so hard for this win.”
ethan let out a humourless laugh. “the funny thing is… it wasn’t until i lifted the cup that i realize that i wasn’t happy with the win.”
the girl blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. ethan landry, the boy who lived for hockey, was saying he wasn’t happy with winning a championship. what was wrong with the world? “i don’t understand.”
“what is succeeding if you don’t have anyone to celebrate it with? that trophy was a reminder of what i pushed away in order to get it. it made me feel miserable.”
“ethan…”
his sad gaze found hers. “what i’m trying to say is that i miss you, and that the win means nothing if you’re not with me. i looked around the stands, you weren’t there and it felt like a punch to the gut.”
she was certainly not ready to hear that. “let me remind you it was what you wanted, you ended it, ethan. you put hockey first, and it got us here.” maybe she was being a bit harsh, especially after he was pouring his heart out.
“i know. fuck. don’t i know it.” he was not going to cry. if y/n somehow managed to find it in her to forgive him, it was not going to be out of pity. but he wanted to sob so badly. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i was so fucking blind, and i hurt you.”
hurt was an understatement. ethan had absolutely broke her, and she had been trying to pick up the pieces of the mess he had made.
“i want to punch myself for everything i’ve done. for taking this long to realize i made a huge mistake. i don’t want for my life to revolve around hockey.”
y/n nodded. “that’s a good realization.”
“i don’t know what to say. there’s no justification for what i did, i was stupid and that’s the only truth. i… i want us back.” the anguish was written on his face. “i don’t know what to do to fix it.”
“all you had to do was stay… you had me in the palm of your hand. i would’ve done anything for you.”
“i know, you were too good for me. and i promise you i’ll work everyday to be the person you deserve, if you let me.” he put a strand of hair behind her ear. “i’m never making the same mistake again. i love you. you don’t have to decide now, take as long as you need. i’d wait forever.”
“you know it can’t be like before, right? you can’t keep this relationship in the lowest rank of your priorities.”
“i know, and i won’t. i love hockey, going professional is still my goal but now i know that my dream isn’t only hockey, is having you by my side while i play it.”
y/n slowly broke into a smile. “i would hate to see you succeed without me.” she grimaced as soon as the words clicked. “shit, that sounded so awful. i didn’t mean that i don’t want you to succeed unless you’re with me. that would be so bitchy, and i know you hurt me but i would neve-“
ethan couldn’t help himself, he cut her rambling with a soft kiss. “you’re the absolute cutest. i love it when you ramble.”
“it’s rude to interrupt someone, landry. you need to learn some manners.” she gave him a quick peck. “i guess i’m taking you back, or whatever.”
the hockey player smiled like a little kid and lifted her up on his arms. “i love you. did you know that?”
“i know it now. and i love you, too.” she wrapped her legs around his waist. “now, let’s go celebrate, captain.”
“fuck, yes. i have so many ideas.” the mischievous glint in his deep brown eyes made her stomach swirl.
“i’m down for anything if it’s with you.”
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supertrainstationh · 2 months
Text
CHARITY CASE CHAMPION
by A. Griffin / Super Train Station H ---------------------------------
I round up with pride at the checkout for Autism Speaks, but insult adults who like "Thomas the Tank Engine", and call them freaks.
I want to help the disabled, my bumper sticker proves it, truly, but when they get older, they better not enjoy "Bluey".
I support the autistic, and buy charity merch gladly, but I harass them online over things that make them happy.
There's no way those people could be autistic in any case, because I'm normal, so how could them, and me, be in a common space?
Leading brand charities told me what to look for: kids, often pitiable, easy to be adored, typically male - if they don't look like that, they're surely faking it, without fail!
I trust groups claiming to speak for disabled folks, without a doubt, but when they speak for themselves, it proves they're acting for web clout.
I "light it up blue," so those with hardships won't be silenced, but if I meet them online, I pelt them with written violence.
If they were really autistic they wouldn't and shouldn't have mentioned it! Speaking to me is for equals, I know I'm better than them!
How dare adults speak of benefiting from therapy courses? They should feel terrible for stealing disabled children's resources!
My heart goes out for those with sensory issues, in their younger days, but when they grow up, seeing them happy makes me outraged.
God forbid an adult enjoy things rated for all ages, or draw themselves as creatures from the comic strip pages.
I sympathize with web videos of disabled kid's meltdowns, but I see an adult happily flapping online, I'll run them out of town!
Why should it be on me to stow my righteous hostility?
Those phonies are mocking the plight of children with special needs!
"Autistic adult" is clearly an oxymoron. I browsed a charity website, so I know what's really going on!
Autistic people aren't legit unless they're kids that don't talk, that means adults that use vocal speech are committing fraud.
And as for those with different brains who happen to be silent, why consider their feelings, when they belong in asylum?
Stories put forth by autistic adults, are clearly embellishments, since for disabled people, they sure seem oddly intelligent.
I'm a well-balanced person, doing what little good I can manage, so I lurk online seeking targets to hate and disparage.
Exposing the lies of those that falsely claim to be special, makes me such a good person, that I deserve a gold medal!
So pitch in this April, every penny will be spent well - the cute kids on the posters, need every bit of help.
Their lives have been stolen, only your cash can restore their dreams!
But know, they shouldn't be cared about, after they hit eighteen!
---------------------------------
[Twitch] [VOD Channel] [Writing FA] [Ko-fi]
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shy-taylorsversion · 3 months
Note
Hi, I was wondering if you could write something with Anthony bridgerton and his wife(who is from a lower class than him) having an argument because she did something “wrong/out of class” if it makes sense😭🫶🏼
A/N: yes ofc, omg I love this idea...some of this may be historically inaccurate but so is Bridgerton. this is completely unedited but I wanted to get it out!! Anyway, let me know what you think and what you want next!
Pairing- Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none :)
Word Count - 972
Sun beamed throughout the morning room, the rays hitting the furniture and causing dust to swirl throughout the air. The room was silent, other than the clinging and scraping of silverware against fine porcelain plates.
Despite the unnatural quietness of their breakfast, she let her eyes wander the room. From the high windows and fine curtains to the embroidered settees and chairs, she admired the grandeur each morning. She always found herself drawn to the pianoforte, wishing she learned as a young girl but never was given the opportunity. Every time she looked around the room or any within the Bridgerton home, her home, the breath in her lungs vanished. There was a part of her mind that never seemed to comprehend what her life had become.
Y/n glanced to the far end of the room where her husband sat at the small table, today's reading on his lap. His brows were furrowed and his jaw was set. He was the picture of agitated and tense. She believed she was the reason, again.
"Precisely how many of the Ton have I offended this time, Anthony?" Y/n said, attempting to hide her weariness by sipping her tea.
Without looking at her, he folded his paper and laid it atop the table.
"What have I done this time?"
Ever the picture of elegance and high society, he manvoured himself in his chair to face her. She met his gaze, unwavering. Exhaustion seeped into her. This was the third time this month, somehow no matter what she did, how she acted, and how hard she tried, she was improper.
"Some of the gentlemen have mentioned their wives complaining that you are-" He hesitated for a moment. "Too friendly with their husbands."
Her stomach lurched and tears burned in her eyes. She held a gloved hand up to her face, trying to stave off the emotion from rising. She was to meet with a few of those ladies in only a few hours. It would be worse if her face was tear-stained and flushed.
"Now I am too nice." She whispered in defeat before finding her voice again. Irritation rose in her the more she thought about the impossibility of the situation. "Not last week was I standoffish and cold, now I am too nice."
"The Ton is very particular and delicate with the matters of decency and manners." He said, his words would typically seem to lend some amount of comfort but his tone was bordering on frustration. "It is something you must learn."
She let out a bitter laugh which caught his attention. Still not used to the improper volume that she often ends up adapting.
"Does it appear as if I am not trying? As if I have not given my all for this, for you?"
"I appreciate your efforts but you must remember you no longer only reflect yourself but the Bridgerton name. My name, my brother's and sister's name, Y/n. It is bigger than you."
She stared at him in disbelief. He acted as if she wasn't aware of this. As if her life for the six months had not revolved around him and his name, the name she took in place of her own. Did he truly not see all she had given for him? How hard she was trying?"
"You knew who you married, Anthony. I was not born into this. The first ballroom I ever entered was the one in this very house. I am learning this seemingly impossible and intricate system of right and wrong. It seems to be a balancing act between being a complete harlot or a shut-in. I am either too nice, too flirtatious or I am too detached and too disagreeable. I cannot win, no matter what." Tears began streaming down her face fueled by a mix of anger and hurt. For weeks, Anthony reassured her that her efforts would pay off and that she was doing amazing. Yet, it seemed as though, the talk of the Ton was getting to him too.
The room was silent once again before she spoke up.
"Why did you marry me?" Y/n said quietly, looking away from him, "You could've had a lady, someone with a title but you chose me. Why?"
Her eyes drew back to Anthony as his chair pushed against the floor. She watched him as he made his way to stop in front of her. He extended an un-gloved hand and she took it. Raising up, she avoided his stare by watching as she smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. His hand cupped her jaw, finger pushing up her face so her gaze mrt his. His thumb brushed the stray tears still falling.
" I do not care for the opinions of the Ton." He murmured, "My only true concern is for my sisters and for you. The Ton is vicious, truly. They tear apart anyone they do not deem as their own."
"I married you because I love you. " He spoke softly. "I fear I let my frustration with our society affect my demeanor towards you and for that, I apologize."
Brown eyes bored into hers, hand still cradling her face. Her own hands found his chest and she felt his other arm slid around her waist. In the moment, she relived every interaction, every second they shared up until now. The good, the bad, the doubt and the hurt, the love and the magic, and everything in between.
She pushed herself up on to her tiptoes, sliding her hands around the back of his neck. She pressed her lips into his, just for a moment. Their breaths mingled and foreheads pressed into the other.
"We will get through this" He whispered, almost scared to break the moment.
"I know." She responded, molding herself to him once more.
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