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#ugly crying on a Wednesday night
maneki-kat · 8 months
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Was anyone going to tell my how devastatingly sad and good When Marnie Was There is or was I supposed to find that out myself
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angelanderson · 10 months
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I really want an Ellabs x reader fic of fem reader really needing comfort bc she's sad/overwhelmed but she tries to hide it from ellabs but obv they notice smth is off, so they tell her they noticed smth is wrong and she kinda breaks down at that, then they comfort her thru it, listening to her problems or insecurities n'stuff <33 Sorry if it's confusing and/or too long, u dont gotta do it but i'd appreciate it tons <33 (Im totally not self projecting)
ur projecting = supported. 🫢 100% sfw/comfort fic but still no men or minors. type of relationship between them is up to u! this ended up a semi- full length fic oops ? enjoy!
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sometimes it just feels too hard. being the newest member in jackson means you feel like you have to prove your worth 24/7. and it’s exhausting, really. abby is just so strong, ellie has the best patrol work, and you? you feel… weak. you (falsely) feel like nothing you’ve done has proven you’re worth the space in jackson.
so when monday rolls around, you tell ellie and abby you have plans with someone else so you can just go home and hide. they don’t question that, why would they? tuesday you tell them you wanna go to bed early. okay, fine. but then it’s wednesday, and they’re starting to get that something is going on with you.
the worry starts to kick in wednesday night after maria tells the two women you asked to go home early, citing that you’re not feeling well. abby all but drags ellie to your tiny place immediately after hearing maria’s words. you always tell each other everything. so why didn’t you now?!
it’s easy to know abby and ellie are knocking at your door simply because of the sheer force of it. five minutes you try to pretend you’re not home. you don’t want them to see you in this state; you’ve been ugly crying for two hours now. however, they don’t give up. it’s not like you could expect anything else from them.
“baby, we know you’re home. let us in, yeah? we’re worried about you,” abby shouts out after another two minutes of knocking.
you respond back with a sickly voice from the sofa, “no, go away. ‘m busy.”
you can just feel the attitude enter ellie’s body now. you know how stubborn she can be. “no, we know you’re lying. i will find a way in if you don’t let us in within the next thirty seconds.”
you know she isn’t joking as you move to open the door. the sight of you upon opening the door is not a pretty one— your face is red, covered in tears. ellie takes a deep breath before she pushes in. she won’t let you shut them out anymore. abby shuts the door before them before heading you back onto the sofa with them. each other is on either side of you within the matter of seconds.
as per usual, abby is the first one to break the silence. “oh, honey, what’s going on? we could’ve helped you sooner if we knew.” the way she sounds sad just makes you feel worse.
insecurities once again bubbling over, you do the only thing you can think of: you try to shove abby away. being significantly stronger than you means it didn’t feel like a single thing. however, abby won’t put up with you lashing out right now. she knows you can be their sweet girl even in the toughest of moments.
ellie watches like a hawk as abby grabs both of your wrists to stop you from trying to push her away again. “just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you can act out. are you going to be the big girl i know you are now? or do i need to keep you here?”
the concerned sternness of her voice makes you whimper in reply. fresh tears leak down your face as you try to find the words to explain. “i- i just don’t think i deserve to be here! everyone, especially you two, carry your weight around here! and what do i do? i’m just a stupid girl working in the bar!”
and, well, neither of them could say they were expecting that response. sure, you were newer to Jackson, but so was everyone at one point. you were also one of the most popular Jackson residents— everyone loves the energy you bring to the bar after a long day of work. so it just makes sense that both women are beyond shocked to realize that this is why you’re so down. how could you not know how loved you are here?
as yet another round of tears starts to fall, you feel abby’s big arms quickly pull you into her chest. your body starts to shake with each inhale as you start to sob into abby’s chest. while ellie rushes to rub your back, abby starts to tilt your head up so you can see her.
“angel, angel, no. let’s take some deep breathes and then we’ll all have a talk, okay?”, abby coos as she wipes away the falling tears.
ellie puts your right hand over abby’s heart when your breathing doesn’t start to slow any. she speaks in the softest voice she can muster up,“deep breaths with me and abby, baby. feel abby’s heart beat. we’re all going to just relax together before anything else.”
two minutes between your favorite people is all it takes to reduce you to just sniffles. you slouch back into your seat once you’ve finally caught your breath. you look up at abby and ellie with wet eyes before letting out a long sigh. no one is sure who should speak first.
ellie decides she’ll be the one to start, “it’s not true, you know? everyone here loves you. helping run the bar is important. you create a space where we can all relax for once. emphasis on the relax part.”
abby grunts in agreement with ellie. “you know ellie’s right, don’t you baby,” abby questions before looking over to ellie, “our favorite girl’s always making everyone feel happy, isn’t she?”
“for real though, you really do play a big part here. you know ellie and i started arguing less when you came around? pretty big deal there, you know. even joel commented on it,” the dirty blonde continues on the conversation.
and that makes you giggle for the first time all day. “even joel? really?” while you knew they had a previous history of more frequent fights, you didn’t know even joel was over it back then too.
“yeah, it’s really true,” abby starts before taking a breath to think about her next words. she exhales, “strength isn’t everything, you know? you add just as much as we do here. creating a space where people can relax while we live on this hell on earth is just as important as what we do. we all do the best here because we are better with each other. our system can’t function without others.”
you’re sure you’d be crying tears of happiness right now if you weren’t so exhausted from all your previous crying. your previous anxieties start to slip away as you start to truly internalize both of their words from today. you are important. you matter here. just like everyone else.
no one is given a chance to speak before you’re pulling ellie and yourself on top of abby. “i love you, i love you, i love you both,” you whisper out. “you’re right. i promise i’ll come talk to you next time i’m feeling down, okay? know you’ll make me say that part next!”
“okay smarty pants, you better. also, we always are, darling. love you the most,” teases ellie before she presses a kiss to the back of your head.
“hey! what if i love you both the most? then what?” you’re sure you can feel ellie roll her eyes as abby whines out playfully.
“okay, okay. how about we all love each other the most? can we just agree so i can drink some water now? my head is killing me.” a major post-crying headache has just started to come on for you.
ellie rolls her eyes playful at both of you. “i’ll get us all some water”, she commands as she walks to your kitchen, “and get comfy with abby. we’ll watch a movie, and yes, you can choose today.”
yay! end note to say ur important and i’m glad ur here + love that we all each add our own special things to this earth 🫂
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writemekpop · 1 year
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Confession (Part 2) | Jung Jaehyun & Nakamoto Yuta
Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader, Yuta x Reader
Summary: Ever since you became pregnant, Jaehyun won't fuck you. You turn to Yuta for a shoulder to cry on... that becomes something more. Jaehyun begs to have you back.
Genre: Husband!Jaehyun, serious angst, bad boy college friend!Yuta
Word Count: 2k
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 💋
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“Who’s in there?” Jaehyun yelled. 
A fist banged on the door. You saw the bathroom doorknob rattle, and your heart pounded. 
Your voice was thick with tears. “It’s me.” 
The banging on the door stopped. “Y/n? How long have you – been there?” Jaehyun’s voice rose with each word. 
You pulled the door open. Yuta and Jaehyun were staring at you. Yuta shifted awkwardly and Jaehyun looked deathly pale.
Jaehyun lurched towards you. “I’m so sorry-”
“Stop.” You swatted his hand away. “Give me the car keys. Find somewhere else to stay tonight.”
Jaehyun’s shoulders slumped. “Baby, please-”
“KEYS!” you yelled, trembling. 
Jaehyun nodded once and reached into his back pocket.
A fresh wave of tears falling, you ran out and slammed the door in his face. 
Only, you didn’t pull your fingers away fast enough, and the door slammed on your right hand. An explosion of pain made you swear. 
“What happened? Are you okay?” 
You cursed. “Jae, just leave me al-“ You stopped mid-sentence, because it wasn’t Jaehyun standing in front of you, it was Yuta.
Yuta eyed your purple fingers, marked with an angry line where the door crushed them. 
“Damn, Y/n, you need an ice pack!” He stepped closer, reaching out as if to inspect your hand. 
“I’m fine,” you croaked. 
You tried to push him away, but your hand was aching so much that you gave in and let Yuta inspect your fingers. With his brow furrowed in concentration, he gently turned them around and inspected the injury. 
Yuta ran to the kitchen and back, and pressed a bag of frozen peas to your hand. 
He cradled your hand in his strong arms, keeping the bag of peas pressed to it. 
“You don’t have to keep holding my hand,” you said, flustered by his kindness. 
Yuta’s face was serious, his eyes completely focused on your hand. “It’s okay. I got you.” 
You finally allowed Yuta to carry the weight of your hand, sighing at the sweet feeling of being held. 
“How’s the pain?” Yuta murmured, searching your face.
“Please, just forget what Jaehyun said,” you said, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. 
Yuta nodded solemnly.
You avoided Jaehyun and drove home.  
---
Two months had passed since the barbeque. You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, and now even walking was a struggle. 
You and Jaehyun had barely spoken since that night. 
He’d just stare at you with these sad puppy eyes. But that only made you angrier, because you knew he was only upset that he’d got caught. 
Jaehyun still thought you were ugly, just because you were carrying his child. How shallow could a person be? What happened to unconditional love? 
You threw yourself into your work, staying out later and later each night. 
It was a Wednesday evening, and you had just come out of the shower. You were sitting on your bed, naked, rubbing cocoa butter onto your baby bump. 
Ever since that night, you’d started changing in the bathroom, to avoid Jaehyun. He didn’t deserve to see you naked. 
Tonight, though, you didn’t bother to hide. Jaehyun wasn’t coming home till late. 
To your surprise, the front door clicked open. 
Jaehyun entered and stared at your naked body shamelessly. 
“What are you doing back so soon?” you snapped, pulling a towel over your body.
Jaehyun said nothing. He simply walked towards you and dropped to his knees in front of you.
He hung his head low, resting it on your knees. His shoulders rose and fell as he let out shaky, ragged breaths. 
You gasped at this show of emotion.
Jaehyun gripped your towel with his fists. 
“I am so sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t sleep without you, I can’t eat without you, I- I’m going insane. Do you want me to beg?” 
Jaehyun’s handsome cheeks were hollow, his eyes dark with shadow. It broke your heart to see him reduced to this. “I would do anything to have you back,” he said.   
You brushed your hand through Jaehyun’s soft chestnut hair, sighing. This was the first time you’d touched him in days. You looked at Jaehyun’s lips and thought about kissing him. 
Jaehyun lifted his head, his glistening eyes meeting yours. “Can we just… go back to how we were before?” 
His words made you freeze. He made it sound like it was your fault that your relationship had shattered to pieces. Clearly, he wasn’t sorry. There were light years between you and him.
Slowly, but firmly, you pushed Jaehyun away. 
“I… can’t.” You shrugged tearfully.   
You stood up and walked to the door. 
Jaehyun stayed kneeling, a tear rolling down his sharp jaw. 
What had you two become?
---
Three days later… 
KNOCK KNOCK 
You opened the door and let Yuta inside. Although it was freezing out, Yuta was in a sleeveless T shirt, revealing firm, tattooed biceps. Typical.
“Hey…” he said, wrapping one arm around your shoulder. Since the night of the party, everything had become awkward. 
“How have you… um, been?” he asked. 
You touched your belly. “Only two weeks to go… then I can get my body back.”
Yuta sighed. “Don’t talk like that, Y/n. You’re perfect. You’re a-a-“ He clicked his fingers. “A  MILF!”
You snorted, the awkwardness evaporating. Yuta always knew how to make you laugh.
Yuta went on. “Jaehyun is such an idiot. He doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you.” 
A strange expression flickered across Yuta’s face, but it disappeared before you could figure out what it was.
You cleared your throat. “Thanks for coming over at such short notice… the fridge just went bust and now I’m worried about the food going off.” 
Yuta chuckled. “It pays to have an engineer as a friend, right?” 
You smirked. “Totally.” 
Yuta sauntered into the kitchen. He pulled out the fridge and started tinkering with the wires. You stood at the door, admiring the way his biceps bulged as he worked. 
“Where’s Jaehyun?” Yuta asked, after a while.
Your mood soured at the mention of his name. “He’s visiting his parents for the weekend. So… I’m all alone.”
Yuta cleared his throat. “Oh.” 
The mood shifted, so slightly, that it was almost imperceptible. 
In college, you, Jaehyun and Yuta were inseparable. Truthfully, you had a crush on both of them, but Jaehyun asked you out first, so you went along with it. 
Yuta stood up, stretching his arms above his head. You watched the hem of his T shirt rise, revealing a taut brown abdomen, and a smattering of dark hair. A tattooed butterfly peeked out of the waistband of his boxers. Your throat went dry.
“All done.” Yuta said, patting the fridge door. “Don’t underestimate this fridge. She works like a dream.” 
You smiled and squeezed his hand. “You’re an angel.”
Yuta’s eyes lingered on your joined hands. “I should… probably go.” 
He pulled his hand from yours and walked towards the door. 
“Wait,” you called. 
Yuta stopped in his tracks. 
“Won’t you stay for a drink? It’s been so lonely lately… I- I miss talking to someone.”
Yuta turned round. “Okay.”
---
So that’s how you and Yuta ended up side by side on the couch, him with a whiskey, and you with a soda, reminiscing about your college days. 
Yuta wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing. “I still can’t believe Taeyong did that. And to think he’s a professor now!” 
“Right?” you said, smiling at the memories. 
“Hey,” Yuta said, nudging your shoulder. “Remember that time we hooked up?” 
Your breath caught in your throat. 
Lately, you’d been replaying that memory almost every night. You and Yuta in the back of the library, your hand down his sweatpants, his face between your legs...
You’d shove your hand into your panties and pray that your sleeping husband wouldn’t hear you. For some reason, you couldn’t get Yuta out of your head lately. Especially cocky teenage Yuta, with his tight muscles, tongue piercing and bleached blonde hair.
You tried to play it cool. 
“Oh yeah!” you said, laughing a little too loud. “I totally forgot about that!” 
“Shame it was only one night though.” Yuta’s eyes were hazy, as if he was watching the memories on a film. His thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand. “Then Jaehyun showed up and well… the rest is history.” 
His face became serious. “Y/n, you deserve a husband who wants you. A husband who fucks you. A husband who understands what a goddamn privilege it is to do that.” 
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. 
The rough, paint-splattered denim of Yuta’s leg rubbed your bare thigh. You noticed the faint stubble on Yuta’s chin, the handsome curve of his brow, his strong, square jaw. Was he always this sexy?
Yuta was staring at you with hungry eyes. It made you feel desired… something you hadn’t felt in months. 
Suddenly, you craved Yuta with an intensity that was almost crippling. The thought of Jaehyun entered your mind, but you pushed it into the corner. 
You wanted to be wanted, and right now, Yuta was looking at you like you were the only woman on the planet. That’s all that mattered. 
Yuta was waiting, muscles tensed, for you to make the first move. 
You gulped. It was now or never. 
You leaned over and kissed Yuta on the mouth. That was all the permission he needed. You led him onto the couch in the living room. 
Yuta pulled you onto him, kissing you with an animalistic intensity. One of his hands squeezed your breast, and the other grasped your hair and pulled, hard. You yelped, Yuta’s moves sensing sparks of pleasure coursing through you. 
Yuta was rough – kissing you firmly, yanking at your clothes. He wasn’t holding back. Ever since you got pregnant, everyone treated you like you were breakable, like you were made of glass. The fact that Yuta wasn’t doing that made you want to scream with happiness. 
Soon you were both naked. You were on top, riding him shamelessly. Yuta’s lips never left your skin. 
Yuta’s groans got louder, and soon he began to curse in Japanese. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t understand him – no words were needed. 
Your high ripped through you with a flash of white heat. It was so intense that when you opened your mouth, no sound came out. 
You rolled off him, exhausted in the best way. Yuta held your hand as you both came down from your highs. 
Soon your heartbeat slowed to normal. 
Then, you felt a blow to your side, making you cry out in pain. It was the baby, kicking you from the inside. In a sickening rush, you were reminded of who you were married to, the fact that you were nine months pregnant with Jaehyun’s chid. 
“You should – go,” you said. 
Yuta’s head snapped in your direction, a flicker of hurt evident in his dark eyes.
“Please,” you said. The post-sex glow was fading fast.  
Yuta stood up and reached for his boxers, grumbling, but obedient. “You deserve better than him.”
Just then, you heard a car pull up to the driveway. Yuta ran to the window. When he turned to you, his face was blank.  
You knew what he was going to say before he said it. 
“It’s Jaehyun.” 
to be continued...
READ PART 3 HERE!
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dotchannie · 23 days
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- 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑. :: l.mh x reader (MDNI)
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synopsis: minho stops you in your tracks when you try to move the relationship along to fast, easing your anxieties regarding your love life with some gentle loving.
a/n: repost from @/binniesbang i know i know, new content will happen eventually but i love this one too much not to give it a moment here too- inspired at 4am by slow hand by the pointer sisters. warnings below the cut !
wc: 1,201.
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Warnings:implied bad past with sex(no descriptions), hints at self esteem issues and trauma on readers behalf, very brief stint of being home alone and not knowning who's in the house, teeny tiny talks of minho watching you in the shower :0, mentions of alcohol, again there is sex mentioned but no smut, lyrics scattered between the fic if that’s not your thing, petnames (reader refered to as sweetheart&my love:( ), reader crying, minho is soft and domestic as hellllll, i think that might be it.
Your intimate life has been very one note for as long as you can rememeber; rough and fast. Noone taking the time of day to stay beyond a one night stand.
But that was all you'd known.
you considered it to be expected in a relationship- a severe lack of love ultimately rearing it's ugly head in the form of self worth issues and trauma you didnt even known you carried.
Wednesday evening looked very much like a standard wednesday evening, the morning shift at your day job already worked and forgotten about- with a rough commute home thanks to the change in weather forcing the trains to be delayed and to reroute.
Your plan was to call at the nearby grocery store to grab something to cook dinner but that was now out the window. Instead, you figured you could most likely make something out of the left over ingredients in your fridge. Hopefully anyway because the only thought coursing through your mind right now was how badly you needed to be surround by hot water. To have it thaw out the cold and remove the sting from your skin.
You have absolutely no idea how long you stand beneathe the shower head, the warmth feeling to pleasant that you can't bare to get out and face the chill of your own apartment.
Finally do, braving the bite in the air to do a full body moisturise, before swamping yourself in plaid pajama pants and a giant hoodie-stomach beginning to churn and tighten with a need for food.
Momentarily rendered stiff, you leave your bedroom and hear clanging from behind the kitchen door- footsteps loud and clear as though they know what they're looking for, and then you catch it.
It's faint but if you focus, the sound of minho humming is detectable. A wave of guilt forms, feeling deflated that you'd stood so long in the warm water that minho had already returned from a long days practice and started making dinner before you could. Not to mention he'd travelled home in the same unforgiving weather as you and was most likely drenched and cold while you hogged the only shower in the house.
He must have opened the door to the kitchen whilst you we're mulling over your sins, hair damp at the temples, greeting you with a upbeat welcome home.
"I should be saying that to you!" you huff, "I was home first!"
He responds with a bright smile, eyes creasing at the corners. "It's okay. You looked comfortable, who am I to disturb you?" Your own smile mirrors his until your eyes and mouth winden in disbelief.
"MINHO!, you were watching me?", offering you no excuses as he shoots a wink in your direction as compensation.
Dinner goes by smoothly, to ease your mind Minho lets you help with the cooking after he repeatedly insisted he didn't mind- shower set away for the second time that evening.
However his time management is much better that your own and before you know it he's joined you to lounge on the sofa, two small glasses of wine placed on the centre table for the two of you as you tangle together in the plush cushions.
Maybe alcohol wasn't the best choice for tonight but that’s argueable. Light touches gradually getting heavier. Turning into neck kisses and squeezes of the thighs.
Minho isn't forceful, he’s not intiating sex- just loving on you a little, but from your past experience, you believe you know where this is headed.
Trying to jump the gun and get to the point, you lower yourself to your knees infront of his crotch- his face becoming hard to read, as it often is.
Reaching for the ties on his sweatpants, he places a soft hand upon yours, wordlessley collecting you off the floor and sitting you on his lap.
Darlin', don't say a word, 'cause I already heard. What your body's sayin' to mine.
Your face must say everything your mouth hasn't yet, too confused by him declining your offer, something that's never happened to you.
"what's wrong sweetheart? there's no rush we have plenty time."
His hand is trailing the side of your face, fingers gently curling behind your ear and spreading around the side of your head- gasping as he gently pulls you in for a kiss.
No tongue, no teeth. No hurry and so full of love you can't stop yourself from becoming teary.
"shh my love" he hushes you, “let it happen, im here, i'll look after you".
Guiding you back in for another kiss, he gives you the space and time to get comfortable with the idea of sex with some who loves you.
Sex with someone who reciprecates your feelings.
He wants you to feel good- it's not all about him but you've never discussed in detail your questionable love life with minho and so he has no idea, ignorant to the fact you've forever been left high and dry. It shocks you enough that he isn’t phased by your glassy eyes.
Continuing to let him coach you through timid kisses, the overwhelming need to hold his hand arises- placing one on top of his own that's cradling the side of your face, the other blindly sliding between the two of you, briefly running across his stomach before interlocking with his left hand that was slowly rubbing up and down your thigh- yet to take any steps beyond your currently level of intamacy.
I've got somebody who will spend some time. Not come and go in a heated rush.
When Minho declares in his mind that you're secure enough with the current pace he's taking, he encourages you to lay back on the sofa. Taking extra time to prop a pillow up against the arm of the sofa to rest your neck on.
Although it’s a small gesture, it becomes a little harder to stop your breathing from being so staggered.
The hold you have over yourself finally snaps when Minho hovers over the top of you, gaze so full of admiration you can't even make eye contact with him- opting to pull your hands up to your face as you begin to sob uncontrollably.
You expect him to pull away in disgust. Have a temper that he's most likely not going to get his dick wet anymore, but he doesn't.
Instead placing a kiss to the back of one hand. Then the other, before adjusting you to lie on your side facing him.
Minho doesn't think twice about squeezing himself infront of you, there's nowhere near enough room and he's moments away from slipping to the hard floor below but none of that matters when you need him like this.
So disoriented about the idea of someone loving you the way you deserve that you've burst into hysterics. He vows right then and there be the one to make you come to terms with it.
I found somebody who will understand. When it comes to love, I want a slow hand.
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🏷️: @rose-tinted-kalopsia
𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 !
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robinhobiii · 3 months
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I Love Boo The Most
Husband! Seungkwan
He will always be your best friend because now he’s your husband.
Part I, Part II
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“You know that’s the wrong one, right?” Y/n said as she flipped through the instructions.
“Honey, I know what I’m doing!” Seungkwan huffed.
“I don’t want the baby’s crib to break apart in the middle of the night.”
“It won’t, trust me!” He whined at.
Y/n took a mental note to call Wonwoo, and make him double check it.
“I’m double, triple checked the instructions!” He said. “I want the baby to have the best sleep in this crib.”
She smiled fondly. “I’m still going to ask Wonwoo oppa.”
“Why do you never trust me with building things?!” He whined again and dropped the screwdriver on the floor. She laughed as she ruffled his hair.
. . .
“Jagi?” She said softly.
Seungkwan merely hummed in his sleep.
“Baby?” She nudged him a little bit and got nothing from him again. “Kwan-ah?” And again she got nothing.
“Seungkwan!” She pushed him. “What?” He whined out, eyes still close.
“The baby’s hungry and the baby wants a cheese burger with extra pickles and some fires. And ooh a cola wouldn’t hurt either.” She said as she rubbed her belly.
He opened his eyes enough to slightly side eye her as she sheepishly laughs.
“Please, jagi, for the baby.”
Seungkwan huffed before he got up and said “go wear a sweater and some fuzzy socks.”
“Oh kwannie, when I mean extra pickles, I really mean it.”
“Yeah yeah, hurry your cute butt up”
. . .
The thing about Seungkwan is that no matter if he was her boyfriend, her fiancé, and now her husband, he treats her the same as when they were best of friends. With that being said, he often doesn’t put up with her nonsense. And now that she was very pregnant, she was very hormonal.
Like now, how she was yelling at him for not taking out the trash and how he left the toilet seat up by accident. Times like these were made for Seungkwan’s sweet taking.
“I told you to take it out and you didn’t! That’s all I asked you! Do you want the baby to see this?!”
“The baby won’t care because the baby will be too busy looking at his or her beautiful, strong mother and her sidekick husband.” He said with loving eyes as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ears. She blushed and leaned her head into his chest. She smiled and whined out “kwannieee”
Or when he forgot to bring ice cream back home after work. Ooh was she livid. “I just wanted some ice cream and you didn’t get me anything!” She half scream half cried that. So he did his magic. “That’s because I wanted to take you to that new ice cream parlor. I heard they give discounts on Wednesday.” He said as caressed her face. Her eyes lit up and her tears stopped. “R-really, kwannie?”
“Of course, now sit down so I can put your shoes on.”
She was ugly crying at that point “I don’t deserve you.” She whined out.
Seungkwan only smiled at that. His smiled held a different meaning though. Thank god he got home before all the shops closed.
. . .
Today she wanted to eat pizza with chocolate chips cookies and Seungkwan was not pleased.
“Baby think it through, you’re going to ruin a perfectly good pizza with cookies”
She immediately glared at him. “Oh I’m sorry are you pregnant? Are you currently 6 months pregnant with an aching back and feet??!”
He immediately surrendered. “I’m sorry honey. Should’ve never said anything”
“Good, now here’s $50. Go get it honey”
“Babe, pizza is only like $10?”
“Go get yourself one. All for yourself so I don’t feel guilty for not sharing”
“Aw~ babe~ you spoil me so much!” Seungkwan says in an almost flirty tone.
“Anything for my side-kick husband” she obnoxiously winks at him.
. . .
“Babe! The baby is coming right now!” She yells out from the sofa.
“Oh my goodness, are you okay baby?”
She glared at him for his obvious question. “Does it look like I am Seungkwan??!!”
“O-oh, I’m sorry! Here let me help you. I’ll go get the baby bag too”
Approximately six hours later, their baby girl was born. They were so happy and content as they looked at their baby girl.
“She’s so perfect like you” Seungkwan says softly as she lovingly looks at his two girls.
“And she has your pretty nose and cheeks” y/n replied warmly to her husband.
He blushes softly before saying, “Thank you for always being beside me, my love. You just always know what to say. I’m glad you’re all mine.”
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dilutedconfusion · 1 month
Text
Lost Star
Eustass Kid x F!Reader (Part 1) Real World AU
OH and this is going to be angsty. Angsty with a sprinkle of stupid dialogue if you will.
Summary: You and Kid are long time best friends but you just so happen to find yourself in a risky situation, curtesy of your bladder and too much alcohol. Most of this story takes place over a phone call between you and Kid. One where one of you is crying, until both of you are crying. Enjoy <3
Warnings: None I think??
Word Count: 3.5k
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On a late Wednesday night, Kid didn’t expect to be getting so many calls. By the blaring white lines cast in a blurry glow, he managed to make out the number 12:22 am on his alarm clock. The insistent buzzing of his phone against his nightstand nearly making him want to tear it apart with his teeth.
What does a guy have to do to get a little fucking sleep around here?
He could nearly feel the weight of his eye bags tugging on his pale skin. The warm embrace of his bed feeling more and more like a tomb he’d be comfortable dying in.
But of course, once the ringing had stopped once, which earned Kid a hearty yawn and the closing of his eyes, it started up again. That same persistent buzzing was rumbling against the wood. It felt so invasive Kid nearly thought a swarm of bees had crawled into his ears. Nesting for the night or maybe having some kind of buzz off where one had to be louder than all the rest. But if this was a buzz off he knew his phone would win by a landslide.
Using his forearms he bent them to prop up his bare chest off the soft bed. Not willing to fully sit up he just slapped his hand against the nightstand in a lazy attempt to pick up his phone. But instead of picking it up he knocked it right off the table, the small rectangle of light falling to its doom and crashing against the wooden floor.
“Goddamn it,” Kid mumbled under his breath, brushing his tossed hair out of his eyes and sliding closer to the edge of the bed. The phone was still ringing. Now buzzing loudly against the floor and most certainly pissing off his neighbors below. He managed to lean off the bed just a bit, his long arms coming in handy to scoop it off the floor.
Rolling onto his back with a content sigh he stared at that small rectangle of light that had thankfully stopped buzzing. He read the caller's name in his notifications with little tears of exhaustion naturally pricking the corners of his eyes.
“Y/N?” He mumbled out to himself, his frown of annoyance now turning into one of mild confusion. You were known to blast his phone with multiple calls at a time. You had done it when you swear you saw a dog that looked just like Kid and to Kid's utter dismay, it did indeed not look like him cause that dog was fucking ugly. You had done it when your car broke down nearly a thousand times. Using your ‘my friend is a mechanic’ card to get his free help. You had done it on nearly every holiday that you weren’t together and though he feigned annoyance on those calls, he secretly liked it.
So basically without a doubt, you would weasel your way into finding any excuse to call him. Kid didn’t think that this night would be any different though he made it very clear he wouldn’t answer late-night calls. He wasn’t about to give up his precious sleep to hear your languorous ass talk about the meaning of life or what kind of cheesecake you would be if you were a cheesecake.
But still, he opened up his phone to check if you had texted him, which of course you didn’t. Scrolling through his notifications he noticed 15 unanswered phone calls from you in the last 20 minutes.
Eyes widening in a mix of shock but mostly annoyance he spoke, “What the hell is this woman thinking??” He looked over each call, they seemed back to back from what he could tell which only ticked him off further. But before he could even think it through you called him yet again, his phone vibrating loudly on the soft metal of his prosthetic.
He didn’t want to talk to you. Hell, he was about to put his phone on sleep mode and roll over without a thought. But it was the fact that you’ve never called him this fervently before that made him hesitate. You usually just quit around 4 unanswered phone calls. But this time was different which meant either you were drunk or something bad was happening.
So with a half-asleep limb, he clicked the answer on his phone. Putting it up to his ear as he let his back sink deeper into the mattress below him. “What do you want?” Was the first thing he said without hesitation. His voice much lower and more gravelly than usual due to the late hours.
Though of course, he didn’t hear your voice respond on the other end. Instead, he just heard what he could only assume was a light wind breezing against the microphone and the sounds of footsteps thudding softly in the background.
Did she buttdial me? Was the first thought that rang through his mind but it couldn’t be. You called him consistently for the last 20 minutes. You just hadn’t noticed he answered.
So he spoke again, using a bit more effort so you would hear him. “Do you not hear me? Put the phone to your ear dumbass.”
Kid immediately heard a light yelp come from the other end, followed by a pausing of footsteps before your haphazard ass finally spoke through the phone. “Kid?”
“Who the fuck else would it be? You’re the one who called me bolts for brains.” Kid grumbled, rubbing his hand along his face to try and wake himself up just a bit more.
“Ah…um yeah yeah I umm called you.” Kid noticed right away your voice sounded a bit more slurred than usual. Like you had a gobstopper in your mouth preventing you from saying something coherent. He squinted his eyes as he stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together what the hell was going on.
“Are you drunk and calling me late at night? What the hell Y/N?” He didn’t feel like he needed to be mean. But if you were seriously about to say you spam-called him for the last 20 minutes because you were bored and drunk he was going to throw his phone across the room.
It took you a second to reply and he could hear the way your breath hitched at that question. “Ah umm maybe. I don’t know Kid, it's just that something spooky is happening and I’m scared and I’m cold and I missed you.” Again you sounded like your brain was hollow at the moment. Though your words made Kid slightly concerned hearing the whole ‘I’m scared and cold’ bit.
“I swear are you fucking with me right now? What do you mean you’re scared and cold?” Kid was about to roll his eyes hard if you complained about something stupid. You being drunk wasn’t something he saw often especially considering how shitfaced you sounded. But his sass was palpable at this point despite all the flashing red signs that should be telling him something was wrong.
“I don’t know. Ask the forest. Who knows why these things are always so cold and spooky? It’s just like…natural law or whatever.” And with that, Kid paused.
The forest? What the hell does this girl mean by ‘the forest’?
“Is the forest a euphemism for something? What are you, sitting on your bathroom floor complaining about how cold it is?” He was trying to piece together a scene in his mind. One where you were bored and drunk for whatever reason so you called him in your bathroom. Hopefully, you weren’t drunk because you were depressed over something stupid again. But by the soft sound of your voice, you sounded more scared than sad.
“I wish the forest was a bathroom. I just peed by a tree and a little bit of it got on my pants. That…doesn’t make me a piss baby does it?”
Kid's face contorted into a mixture of disgust and complete confusion. It woke him up a bit more to his annoyance but it couldn’t be helped. What you had said was just too much for him to even remotely understand. But what worried him more was the fact that you weren’t giving up this whole ‘I’m in a forest’ joke.
“Y/N…where are you right now?” Kid's voice dipped into something more serious. His lower register rumbled in his chest as he nearly growled out that answer.
“The forest. Have you not been listening to me? I peed on my pants and I’m cold and I’m scared so I called you.” You sounded like you thought he was stupid. Like it couldn’t be more apparent where you were and Kid was just letting the facts fly right by him.
But as he pieced together not only what you said but the sounds coming through his phone it slowly started to make sense. The howling wind hitting the mic. Your footsteps sound a bit crunchy as if you were walking on grass. He could even make faint creaking sounds and even a few birds in the air around you. Chirping in the late hours of the night as the rest of the predators came alive.
“Y/N…please don’t tell me you’re actually in a forest right now.” Kid didn’t want to believe it. Because if this was a prank then it was a mean one. He couldn’t believe he missed all those background sounds earlier. Him and his tired brain lacked all the sense of keenness it usually held.
“Yes, I’m in a forest dummy.” That made his stomach sink fast like a pound of lead that somehow slid down his esophagus and gut-punched him from the inside. He sat up in his bed immediately, his spine cracking loudly and his vision blurring around the edges.
“Why are you in a forest? Actually, why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?! You’ve been talking out of your ass this whole time!” He yelled at you, his voice raising drastically in concern. “It’s midnight you dumb fuck. Why in the world are you out there?”
“Gosh Kid don’t yell at me! I just needed to tinkle and this was the only place.” Your voice went an octave higher and became increasingly whiny as you spoke. Kid nearly wanted to crawl through the phone and wring your neck.
“The only place you could pee was a forest? Have you never heard of a bathroom fuck-nut?! Why the hell are you in a forest in the first place?” Kids anger was making him get ahead of himself. Each word that left your slurred and intoxicated lips was not what he wanted to hear.
This is why I hate it when she gets drunk. She gets stupid and makes me clean up her mess.
“Fuck-nut? What kind of insult is that? I’m not a fuck-nut.” Your voice became more strained as you spoke. It sounded like you were on the verge of tears. Though the reception for some reason was getting more and more hazy as the call went on so Kid paid no mind.
“Y/N!” Kid was nearly gripping his sheets out of pure anger from this conversation. He shouldn’t be yelling this late at night, he knew that. But his stupid best friend was becoming more stupid by the second.
You took a second to respond. Leaving Kid to just listen to your soft sniffles on the other side. It made his muscles freeze in realization.
I’m screaming at a drunken and vulnerable Y/N right now. What the fuck Kid?
“Don’t yell at me. I-I’m already scared as it is. I just wanted to call you 'cause I didn’t know anybody else that could h-help me.” Your voice sounded so frail. Kid could nearly see your tear-stained face painted on the blank wall across from his bed. It made his heart lurch in the cage of his chest.
“I…I won’t do it again. Just tell me what’s going on. No more deflecting or talking about something else. I need to know why you are in the woods this late at night.” Kid used the most reassuring voice he could muster up. He’s dealt with your crying self a couple of times. Like when that guy who in Kid's opinion was a complete waste of space rejected you. Or when one of your relatives died a few years back. He had been there to awkwardly try and pick up the fragile pieces of your heart. So he could only hope he could use that learned sympathy now.
“I was…at this party. It this whole bonfire next to the lake thing. There was like…a lot of booze and it tasted really good. Like really really good Kid, it had lemonade and sliced fruit in it. Oh, and they had these speakers strapped into some guys' truck bed. I was twerkin' up a storm ya shoulda seen it.” Your voice still sounded sad and strained as you spoke. As if you were emotional about how ‘awesome’ this party was to the point of tears.
Kid's hand instantly smacked against his forehead. Rubbing his face and stretching the deep lines of his eyes bags and permanently frowning corners of his lips. Forcing himself to just groan and hold back all the fiery frustration lumped in the back of his throat.
God, how much did she drink? She’s usually never this emotional. Or this stupid.
“Y/N quit talking about the booze and the party. I get it. It was good. Tell me why you called me. Like exactly how you ended up in this forest alone. And try to calm down a little. I can’t handle the crying.” Kid couldn’t help but sternly push you off the topic of the party because if he heard you talk about twerking one more time something in his brain would short-circuit.
You sniffled softly into the mic once more as if you were swallowing down a well of tears. “O-Okay…I can calm down. The party ended a little while ago. People started packing up and driving home for the night. I called an Uber because ya know…alcohol. There’s a main road close by so I just needed to walk down this trail to catch my ride. But I needed to piss like SOOOO BAD. I was seconds away from shooting a piss rocket down my legs from how bad it was. So I went off the trail a good bit. Ya know, so nobody would see my lady bits. But I think I got like…turned around on the way back to the trail.”
The whole time you were talking Kid could nearly feel his blood pressure rising. A cold chill ran across his spine as his body twitched and went rigid. It was like he was hearing the most idiotic yet horrific joke in the world. But the problem right now was that it wasn’t a joke and it was happening to you of all people.
Oh no.
“Y/N…how long have you been walking around aimlessly?” Kid almost didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know because if you said what he was thinking, then there was a high probability you were dead lost.
“Ummm…I think about 30 minutes? I don’t know exactly when I left to go piss but it's around that amount of time. Plus I fell over a stupid log and got a boo-boo on my leg.” Your voice sounded so ignorant as you said that. As if you didn’t realize how bad your situation was. Kid couldn’t even respond right away. He was too lost in the questions of how the hell you were going to get out of this mess.
“Kid…you there? I…uhh have a backpack. I brought water and a flashlight. Plus I’m wearing that jacket. Ya know the one you bought me for my birthday with the little skull on the sleeve? It’s my favorite.” Kid felt his heart sink once more.
She’s wearing that jacket? While lost in the woods?
“I didn’t buy you that jacket just so you could get lost in the woods with it you asshole.” Kids voice became void of all frustration. Just grumbling and low as he contemplated his life for a moment. “Did you try yelling so someone could come find you? Maybe shine your flashlight through the trees?”
“Yeah, but I think everyone already left.”
Well, shit.
And with that Kid started to get up from his bed. Letting his wide feet land on the cold wooden floor below him he turned on his bedside lamp and started making his way towards his closet. Letting the closet door softly swing open before he quickly put the call on speaker mode.
“Kid…what are you doing?” Your quiet voice floated up to him. He set the phone down on a shelf in his closet before yanking out a gray hoodie and some black sweatpants to cover up his mostly naked body.
“Coming to get you. Now find a place to sit and stay there. No more walking. You’re getting yourself more lost the more you walk around.” He grumbled out, shoving his leg through one of the pant holes. He could feel the ghostly chill of goosebumps crawling all over his skin. As if bugs or the cold hands of ghosts were tracing the lines of his scars. And even though he was hating every second of this, he supposed you were hating it a lot more.
Though with the amount of jokes she’s making maybe not so much. But she always makes jokes at the worst of times.
“But shouldn’t we call the authorities? Or maybe even Killer? I just called you cause…I missed you but you don’t have to do this alone Kid.”
There was a softness in your voice that dragged his attention away by its heels. He paused in his closet. Frozen still for just a moment like a statue of disarray. “No. Just me. No cops. I don’t need them seeing my face and I don’t need their half-assed help. Plus Killer works early shifts, I ain’t dragging him to help me on this one. So quit questioning my abilities and let me help you.”
His voice was so stern you could’ve sworn the foundation he built those words upon was made out of solid gold. There was no changing his mind on this one. No matter how much you tried to erode his logic with your tears of worry. So you just feigned a smile that no one could see and spoke, “Okay. I trust you, Kid. Always have, always will.”
Kid could feel those words echoing in the caverns of his mind. As if they were being written on his flesh itself. But he paid no mind or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He had more important things to do such as saving your helpless ass.
You looked around at the forest engulfing you. It was thick in all directions. No tower, mountain, or really anything to give you a point of reference to where you are. The little flashlight you brought was doing an unsurprisingly half-assed job. The dark was almost too dark. The moon barely peeking through the tops of the trees leaving you amiss in a world of darkness seemingly built for your own demise. The wind was howling and you could catch the far-out hoo of an owl doing little to subside your fear. Though everything was green and lush so it looked soft enough sit down on.
“Okay…I’ll sit down. I’m ummm…by Lake Folsum. Ya know the one off the highway going towards the South? There’s a little dirt road you can take but it cuts off to that trail I was talking about. I gotta be somewhere around there.” You mumble, taking small steps forward and looking at a rather tall oak tree in front of you. You leaned over and felt the dirt, trying to make sure it wasn’t too wet before settling down on it and leaning your back against the tree.
”Alright. It’ll probably take me 40 minutes to get there. 30 if I break a couple of laws. Just wait for me okay?” You could hear Kid shuffling around on the other end. His breath hitting the mic and floating into your ears. You heard the faint jangling of what you assumed was him picking up his keys. Followed by the door of his apartment opening and closing with a subtle lock.
“You’re not gonna hang up on me right? Don’t leave me alone out here Kid. I need you.”
Kid let out a little grunt at that. Your voice sounded so delicate it made his throat tighten. Both of you have been friends forever but if anything insults were more regular then whatever the hell you were doing right now. It made him feel weird. All this ‘I need you, I missed you’ bullshit sounding so strange coming out of your mouth. But he wanted to believe it was the just the alcohol talking. That you were scared and had called the first person you could think of which was him. He wasn’t special by any means and he didn’t expect you to ever rely on him like this. But here he was, about to come to your rescue and he was going to do it all by himself. To try and be the strong reliable friend he wishes he was. He just couldn’t let another person down.
So he picked up his pace just a bit. Forcing himself to go down the stairs two steps at a time to make it to the parking garage. His mind a brewing storm of worry and fear though he would never say it out loud.
It's up to me to help her. I can’t break. Not right now.
“I would never leave you. Don’t ever assume that.”
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A/N: I already said this shit was going to be angsty…which can lead you to assume a lot of things. So uhhh yeah be prepared for that cause I already have a mild outline of what this story is going to be and just thinking about it makes me sad. But I’m VERY excited for said sad so it’s okay. When the time comes we can cry together in the comments <3
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Tracklist:
40 Years Super Hot Body Ready for Party • Aries Taurus Gemini Cancer Leo Virgo Libra and Scorpio Sagittarius Capricorn Aquarius Pisces Fart Song • Butterflies Scared My Cat When I Was Burping in Your Face on Wednesday Morning • Drunk Log out with Spooky Music Settings on My Firm Tits Pictures • Grandpa Says Fuck While Grandma Screams What Repeated Several Times • Grumpy Trumpy Python Toddler Taxi with False News and Emotions • Hugging Blood Thirsty Vampires with a Transylvanian Accent and Slapped Butts • I Farted as an Official Statement Against Global Warming, Expressing My Worries! • I’m Handsome When Wearing a Bag on My Head, Said the Horny Motherfuckers Politely • Is That Cellulite or Just Your Ugly Face? • Kindergarten Farting Fanfare Discussed with Disgusting Asian Clay Warriors Terracotta Song • Leaking Ladies Xylophone Solo Learning with Lusty Lashes Song • Lisping on Penis Peyote Creaking Mirth Radio, Let’s Lisp! Song • Lowering My Filthy Boobs to the Height of Your Curly Chest Hair with Freckles • Mom’s Cleaning Closet Looks Like a Women’s Porn Stash • My Gay Expense Combination Password Gore Seeking Battle Was Sinning • My Hangover Got Hung over by a Hung Guy from Hungary • My Horoscope Sign Is Poop and Yours Is Farts • Nearly Touching Myself with Your Girlfriend’s Hands While Doing the Dishes • Peeing a Farting Swearing Shouting and Pooping in Different Languages Made Me Famous Song • Petite Girls Liked My Fat Farts in Skinny Jeans with Justice • Pooping a Masterpiece in the Little Boys Room on National TV Broadcast • Puerto Del Penis Summer Holiday with Topless Sun Bathing and Surfing Fun • Puking Girls Are Holding Each Others Hair While Selling Butter to Pregnant Vomiting Men • Real Sharks Was a Great Accessory for My Swimming Pool Party Massacre • Relaxing Music for Penis Boys and Vagina Girls, I Have Money Cash, Yes! • Rescuing My Penis from Your Vagina at the Last Minute, Whoah! • Scary Music and Naked Ladies Cemetery Collection Flickering Through Growth • Shaking Sausages in the Men’s Room and Dangling Coconuts • Short Temper Anus Removal with Lipstick on the Collar • Shouting Poopers to Girls While a Crying Man Is Pooping Poop, How Adorable Screaming Babies Are! • Silly Talking Childish Macho Man Thanking Prayers for God’s Food Yes Hello! • Skinny Bitch, Fat Bitch, Rich Bitch, Poor Bitch, All Bitches Poop! • Smelling That Pussy in the Air at the Private Night Club Farting Room • Smudging Chocolate over the Toilet, So Everyone Would Think I Pooped • Sneaking Beans into Your Butthole While U Talk to a Handsome Stranger • Snuggling in Satan’s Satin Sheets with Shattered Dreams and No Boner Song • Solitary Fighting My Big Toe with the Desolate Strangler • Spoiling Desert by Pulling Your Finger Thirteen Times in a Row • Strolling with Morning Wood in the Woods While Mourning to This Song • Stutter and Chinese Food Destroyed My Artwork in the Toilet Bowl Coffee Shop • Sunny Morning Boner at the Beach Gym Towel Rental Song • Surprisingly Soft Boobs on the Milf Statue in the Garden of Jugs, Oh It Was Your Mom Sorry! •
Taming My Daughter’s Boyfriend with Booze and Fists of Agony • Teleporting My Cock to the Urinals Hurts When Peeing Penis Action • That Penis Is Not Mine, Stop Accusing Me of Curing Your Cancer! What • The Brothel Cup Cake Dispenser Had a Variety of Chocolate Brownies Too • The Giggling Killer Was Invited for Tea and Mustard with a Former Laughing Idiot • The Headache Fuckers with Migraine Were Chopping Fucking Painkillers • The Itchy Vampire Vagina Was a Gothic Curse from Medieval Times Song • The Lying Bitch Hermit Ducking Group Was Insisting on Bitch Slaps • The Penis Teens Shouting Squad Declared War on the Vagina Milfs Departure • The Pussy Cock Was Meowing and Cock-a-Doodle-Dooing with Glance • The Singing Orgy Group Remembered My Fancy Birthday Party, Super! • The Sock on My Penis Shook the Genuine Spokesman While Crying Song • The Syphilis Motown Singers Were Blowing Deranged Adultery at Me Song • The Toy Collector’s Mature Attitude Otter Raised Homeland Security Breach • The Triangle of Pussy and Clipping Smoothies Burping Smootch • Typical Asian Food Poured into the Purse of an European Hooker Prostitute Igloo • Under Water Farting Wiz Nick Y Minaj Naked Twerking Shower Saloon Barf Thong • Updating My Profile Picture While Pooping Macaroni with Japanese Subtitles • Using Mother´s Panther Underwear Because of Broken Shopping Bag to the Store • Washing Hamburgers with Dirty Sauce in Leather Pants While Howling • What Ugly Shit on Your Finger! Oh, It’s Your Wedding Ring? It’s Very Nice! • Whistling and Farting a Heavenly Polyphonic Song for Dying Virgins • Violin Licking Sounds by a Hard Baritone Dick Song Licker • Young Girls Selling Old Men´s Boxers in Thongs with Soulful Tutti-Frutti • Your Butthole Swallowed My Telephone, Will It Come out from the Mouth Then? • Your Mom´s Butt Massage Seems Innocent at First, Before Handing out Religious Leaflets
Spotify ♪ Youtube
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sweaterweatherever · 1 year
Note
Heyyy, could you do a Ajax imagine with the soulmates theme ?? with the tattoo idea of soulmates. I would love if you write more of him
Four-letter word (Ajax Petropolus x Reader)
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Pairing: Ajax Petropolus x Fem Reader, Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair (Lightly, mostly insinuated)
Warnings: Cursing. Insecurities, mental health issues, googling symptoms.
A/N: I thought so much about this. Like, before falling asleep, on the bus. I still don’t think I ironed all the kinks of how a universe like this would work, but it was a lovely experience. Also, send more Ajax requests, I love writing him.
Requested: Yes. I loved writing this, anon you are amazing! I would love to write more of him, too.
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One night, when you were six years old, you had woken up crying and screaming from a pain so intense in your arm you thought you were burning up. You had screamed your little throat raw. Once the pain subsided, your mother had appeared on your doorstep, all happy and proud.
“It’s your soulmate.” She had told you, pulling your arm to show you how above the inside of your elbow, was an ugly handwriting, with an even uglier phrase. “It’s… It’s… Don’t worry about it, baby. We’ll get something to cover it up.”
There weren’t many girls with soulmate’s identifying marks. You couldn’t help but stare, every time you saw another girl changing after gym class. Most of them had immaculate skin, whereas you got a tattoo. Apparently, that made you lucky. You didn’t feel lucky, with those crude words engraved on your arm. You had taken to covering the tattoo, ashamed of what others could think. Was it so terrible a destiny to be your soulmate that they had to say that when seeing you for the first time?
What kind of person was your soulmate? You guessed he was a boy, with the ugly chicken scrawls that adorned your arm. Or it could be a girl, maybe a doctor? But the words were hateful, insulting even. It didn’t speak of a mature person, you guessed you would meet them when you were still young.
The words stayed with you as the years passed, gnawing at you, diminishing your self-confidence. Every time you saw them in the mirror, you wondered if it was such a terrible fate to be tied to you. What could possibly be so wrong about you that the person who was supposed to be made for you didn’t want you and felt such rejection at meeting you?
Your teenage years weren’t easy. Despite your hopes of meeting your soulmate when still young, with the secret hope you could excuse their lack of tact due to their age, the time never came. You made it until junior year before resigning yourself to meeting a mature person who hated you so much they needed to say that.
Then, the visions started. You kept touching stuff and seeing disturbing things at seemingly random patterns. Maybe this was it, you guessed. This was what repulsed your soulmate so much. You had to be going crazy. You didn’t dare tell your parents, fearing being sent away to some sort of institution. Of course, being you, you did exactly what you shouldn’t and looked the symptoms in google. You promptly diagnosed yourself with schizophrenia.
Junior year was hard. All this pressure of choosing a mayor, a college, doing extracurriculars on top of your weird hallucinations and your fear of meeting your soulmate and them hating you, it was really eating at you. Your parents noticed soon, and when confronted with the question “Is everything okay?” You couldn’t help but blurt it all out. Your parents had been concerned, rightfully so, and taken you to a doctor. Thing was, you weren’t schizophrenic, you were something else. An outcast.
Outcast. The word tasted foreign in your tongue, like something you would hear used to refer to others, never you. Your parents were normal. You were not. Was your soulmate like you? Or were they so disgusted because they didn’t like outcasts?
Off to Nevermore you went, for your senior year. They would be able to help you there, your parents had explained. They would teach you to get your powers under control, and you would meet people like you. People like you. You wondered when your parents had decided there was a divide between you and them, when they had decided you were some other kind of people.
Thinking about things too much made you sad, so when the principal introduced you to your new roommate, you decided you were being given a chance that not many people got: The ability to start from zero, to be whoever you wanted to be. And this new you, she didn’t overthink.
“Hi.” You extended your hand to the girl, noticing her blouse. “My name is Y/N. I like the collar of your shirt.”
The girl brightened considerably.
“Oh, thank you. I got it thrifting! My name is Yoko.”
“Oh, you thrift?” You asked her, looking at her outfit with renewed interest. “You must have some pretty interesting pieces, then. They don’t make clothes as they used to.”
“Yeah! Want me to show you?” Yoko didn’t wait for a reply, opening her dresser. “Here, look. I got this one for only two dollars! And it’s original…”
That was how your friendship with Yoko was formed, bonding over cute clothes. You came to learn many valuable things from her. First, the best spots at Jericho. Which stores had the cheapest and prettiest clothes, which bookstore was the one to go if you wanted a romance novel, and where to go if you needed a textbook. Second, how Nevermore actually worked, and how outcasts related to each other during their teenage years. But the most important one: You weren’t a freak or unlovable.
It had happened accidentally, really. You had been coming out of the shower, only in your towel, but with the band firmly placed over your soulmate tattoo.
“You can take it off here.” She had said, pointing at it. “We are different from normies, most of us have one.”
“Oh?” You asked, fiddling casually with your wet hair. You would rather not take it off. If you did, Yoko would see what your soulmate thought of you and maybe wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore. Who wanted to befriend a loser who not even her soulmate liked?
“Yeah, from what I know, in our year only Wednesday doesn’t have one. But that's okay. She still found hers, Enid has her words on her arm.” Yoko lifted her shirt to show a pretty cursive that looped around her bicep. It read: The moon pales next to your beauty, miss. It was still in the black writing, anyone who had not met their soulmate yet had. Of course, someone as cool as Yoko got a cute remark from her soulmate, and you were stuck with yours.
“I still… I don’t want to… Mine is not as nice.” You said to her. Yoko rolled down her shirt sleeve, placing her sunglasses on top of her head. She looked much like an old lady preparing to read something in a tiny letter. You wondered if her sunglasses were for more than shielding her eyes from the sunlight and had a prescription too.
“Oh, god. What, they insult you?” Yoko laughed. At your serious expression, she gave your hand an encouraging squeeze. “Because believe me, I have seen some pretty bad ones. Enid’s arm says: I break out into hives, and then the flesh peels off my bones. Can you top that?”
Pacified at the fact she wasn’t laughing at you, you took off the band. Yoko stared.
“That bad?” You laughed nervously.
“No! I have seen worse!” Yoko hurried to reassure you. Her hand grabbed your arm, turning it, so the writing faced her more. She squinted at it, a frown on her perfect eyebrows. “It’s just… I think I know the handwriting.”
Butterflies took residence on your stomach. You could be meeting them soon. The person who was made for you. You stomped on the butterflies harshly. They didn’t like you, so why get all giggling and excited? It was not going to go well, your first meeting.
“Oh?” You asked, feigning disinterest. Fake it till you make it, you said to yourself. One day, you would outgrow your childish want for a soulmate, but for now, you could pretend you didn’t care.
“I have seen it, but I can’t remember where. I think one of the boys in our year? Or maybe… I don’t know, at home? I have many cousins, could be one of them?”
But Yoko didn’t remember, and the topic got dropped in favor of something else. You thought she had forgotten, except when she introduced you to Enid, she did by saying you were the one with the soulmate in your year.
“Here, show her!” Yoko said, excitedly. “Show your arm to Enid.”
You took a look at the café. It was pretty quiet, no other students in sight. You rolled up your sleeve, showing her your arm. Enid’s hands grabbed yours, almost too roughly. Her excitement was evident, nervous energy pouring off her in waves.
Your breath hitched… Could it really be that easy? Enid could be the key to finally meeting your soulmate?
“Of course, I know the writing!” Enid clapped, excitedly. Her soulmate, Wednesday, only gave a nod. You guessed that must mean approval, since she didn’t talk a lot. “She is Ajax’s. Look at the letters. Only he can write that poorly.”
Ajax. So, that was his name. Your soulmate. The one who will reject you. It didn't feel real. A mix of excitement and dread filled your stomach. You are sure it showed in your face because Yoko grabbed your hand between hers.
“Ajax?” Yoko squeezed firmly, smiling. “Oh my god, makes total sense. You are way too pretty for him, really. He is a lucky guy.”
“Thank you.” You beamed at her, fluttering your lashes for good measure. Yoko was fun to tease. She didn't disappoint, making a kissy face at you. “I don’t think I know him, is he in our year?”
“Yeah, he is the tall one who sits next to Kent in History.” Yoko said. You gave her a blank look. “Umm, always wears a beanie and matching hoodie?”
“Yoko, you are literally describing half the gorgons.” Enid leaned more towards you, eyes widening. "Look, he has dark eyes and brows, and his mouth kinda looks like Tom Holland’s.”
You stared some more. So, a guy. A guy and a gorgon, with dark eyes and awful writing. Tall, too. And made total sense he went around cursing and talking shit. A douche. Ew.
“Just show her his socials already.” Wednesday said, rolling her eyes. Apparently, she was the person with more brain cells on the table because both Yoko and Enid scrambled to pull out their phones and show you.
“Here.” Enid said, pointing out a boy in one of the pictures. He was… Cuter than you expected. He had a kind face, too.
“Oh, he is cute.” You muttered. And he was. You liked the way he smiled, all dimples and boyish charm. He had a regular sense of fashion, at least he didn’t look homeless. It was strange, looking at this person and thinking: This is my soulmate, this person was made for me. It didn’t feel real.
“Another basic white boy, really. But you could do worse.” Yoko peered over your shoulder. “He is nice, but tends to put his foot in his mouth.”
“He is…” Wednesday lowered her voice, like a kid saying a dirty word. “Cheery.”
“Ugh, disgusting really.” Enid poked her in the ribs. Then, she turned to look at you. “Come on, let’s go talk to him.” And without even letting you roll your shirt down, she started dragging you back towards the school.
Soon, you two ended up in a place unfamiliar to you. The dorms for the boys looked similar to the girls, but much more run down and different at the same place. You worried a teacher might spot you, but Enid seemed to know her way around them, twisting and ducking into mostly empty hallways.
“Enid… I don’t think this is a good idea…” Truth was, you weren’t sure you wanted to meet him. You needed time to mentally prepare for the rejection that was soon to follow. At least you were wearing cute clothes, but if you had known you were meeting your soulmate today, you would have put on something cuter than jeans and a sweater. To look better… Even if you were getting rejected. “My mark isn't…”
“Oh, I read it. I’m sure it must be a misunderstanding. Maybe he swears so much because he thinks you are too pretty.” And with that, she was pounding on one of the doors. You cringed, eyeing the empty hallway. You could always make a run for it, even if you didn’t know the way back to your dorm. Someone would surely step on your path and you could get directions.
“Ajax! I know you are in there.” Enid screamed, knocking again.
“Wait, Enid! I’m coming.” A voice said. It was a nice voice, you guessed. He sounded impatient, so you guessed that was going to prompt the rejection.
“Hurry! There is someone you need to meet.”
“Give me a second!” But Enid wasn’t in a waiting mood, and so, with surprising strength, she pushed the door open and shoved you inside.
The last thing you heard when you came face to face with a very naked, terrified looking boy with serpents for hair was
“Shit! What the hell are you doing here?! Get out!” Your last conscious thought before ending petrified was that at least, he wasn’t rejecting you.
The voices were the first thing you noticed. Enid, high and airy, Yoko in her no nonsense tone and a boy, sounding terrified. At first, you didn’t remember what happened, your whole body felt rigid and achy, like if you had a very intense workout session. Opening your eyes didn’t give you any clues, either. The ceiling looked just like any other, and you were unable to take in more details because your eyes felt full of sand. You pressed the heels of your hands against them. God, what the hell?
“How could you just push her in? Enid, I petrified her!” That voice… Ajax. Oh god, you didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry. Your soulmate had petrified you! But, he sounded concerned, even if he was being a little loud for your taste. Still, it wasn’t a rejection, the petrification hadn’t been on purpose. The thought made you feel all kinds of warm. Maybe there was hope for you two.
“Yeah, Enid. What the hell?” Yoko. That was Yoko. And by her tone of voice, she was going to give Enid the tongue lashing of her life.
“It was always going to happen! I took a risk! And I…” By her tone of voice, she was panicking. They were near your bed, you could feel the chairs shifting when they moved. You tried to reach for one of them on the left side, but your hand only met concrete.
“What? No, that’s not how it works!” Ajax raised his tone, and this time, you followed his voice, grasping desperately at some part of his body. You could feel cotton scrunching under your fingers, he was sitting on your right. Good to know he had gotten dressed, you didn’t want to see so much of your soulmate on your first meeting as you had seen already. Even if, from what you remembered, he was cute.
“Shut up! My head fucking hurts!” You complained. At hearing your voice, they all paused. You heard Ajax take a shuddering breath. Were those his words? Oh, god, and you thought yours were bad.
“Oh, thank god.” The boy leaned down, pushing a few strands of hair off your face. He was in a panic, words tumbling out of his mouth with seemingly no filter. It was surprisingly endearing. “How are you feeling? I’m so sorry, I… I would have never petrified you if I knew you were my soulmate. Not like I go around petrifying people who aren’t my soulmate, I just meant… I would have been more careful. No, fuck, I don’t mean…”
You weren’t sure what to say to all that, so you did the best next thing.
“Shut up.” You squeezed his arm, eyes still closed. Too afraid of the pain, you didn’t dare open them again. This had to be the oddest sensation of your life. Your muscles felt all rigid, your joints ached, and you were in the middle of an emotional turmoil big enough to leave PMS to shame.
“Do you want me to get you anything? Water? Food? More pillows?” He offered, more quietly this time. “I’m sorry, again.”
“That’s okay.” You answered, still groggy.“I… You are…”
“Ajax. Ajax Petropolus.” He paused, almost if he didn’t know what to say, if he was allowed to. His voice lowered, almost to a whisper. “Your soulmate.”
“I think this is a talk you need to have in private…” Enid said, and you heard her get up. “Come on, Yoko.”
“But what if he…?” Your eyes stayed closed, but you could feel Ajax tense up at your side. The insinuation seemed to offend him.
“Go, Yoko.” You said to her. Yoko made a huffing noise.
“Are you scared?” Ajax asked, removing his hand from you. “Because… She can stay, if you would be more comfortable.”
“No.” You answered. “Yoko, go.” You heard her standing up and leaving the room. Ajax shifted in his seat. Why did he think you were scared?
“But your eyes…” Ajax said, and you almost snorted. Did he think you didn’t dare look at him?
“They hurt. Feels like sand all over them.” You explained, pressing your hands to your eyes once again.
“Oh, that’s, that’s my fault. I have petrified myself before…” You smiled at that, and his voice brightened considerably. “When your eyes are open, they dry out. I can get you water, if you like, but it will go away on its own.”
“Yeah.” And, sure, it was a lame answer, but what else were you supposed to say? This wasn’t what you had been expecting, not at all. You thought he would be repulsed by you, for some reason, not all sweet and caring. Certainly, it never crossed your head he would petrify you.
“I understand if you want me to….” Ajax offered, trailing off like it was too painful to even finish the sentence. Was he thinking of leaving? Because he thought you didn’t want him? “But I want you to know, before I leave that you are the most precious thing to me. You are gorgeous, and I have seen you in class, you are smart as hell. Maybe I don’t deserve you, but I would never hurt you on purpose.”
“No!” You grasped blindly for his arm. You didn’t want him to leave. Ajax pressed his hand into yours. “Stay. I have thought all my life you were going to reject me.” You confessed, eyes still firmly shut. You didn't want to see his face when you asked, too scared of his reaction. “This is not that?”
“No! I… I could never… I would love to take you on a date, if you let me.” The confession made you almost sing with joy. You felt his hand on your hair, absentmindedly carding the strands back. You sighed in contentment.
“Okay.” You answered him, risking opening your eyes just to look at him. The pain had lowered significantly. He had the prettiest smile you had ever seen. “Take me out on a date. I would love that.”
“Tomorrow. For today… Can I watch over you?” Ajax was still smiling. You wondered if you looked as lovesick as him, as your mouth stretched into a smile.
“Might not be the best company. Tired.” Ajax seemed unable to resist touching you again, this time stroking your hair. Your eyes closed out of their own accord.
“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. And… Sorry again.”
“It’s fine.” You slurred, turning in the bed to face him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For wanting me.”
“Oh, love, there is no world in which I wouldn’t want you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you snuggled more under the covers. You drifted off, happy and safe.
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marzmeltdown · 10 months
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Halfway Sober
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⌦ Pairing: Woozi x Reader ⌦ Genre(s): smut,, fluff ⌦ Warning(s): alcohol use/drunken sex (be safe),, fluff,, swearing,, unprotected sex (im not ur parent but be safe),, begging,, pet names (baby,, ),, Jihoon whimpers 😩,, mention of being sick,, ⌦ Word count: 2.04k ⌦ Summary: Your childhood best friend promised that he would come back for you. That was five years ago. But now he's back, and your family Christmas party took a turn you weren't expecting. ⌦ A/N: Doin Christmas in July. First fanfic request I'm so thankful that someone enjoyed my work enough to request work from me 😭. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it! If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:)
⌦ requested by: anon 🫶 ⌦ marz's request form ⌦ marz's tag list
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Christmas was always your favorite holiday, not just because of the presents but also because of the smells, scenery, and memories that came with it. At least, that's how you used to feel about the holiday. Every year around this time, you'd get a text from your best friend promising that he'd be at the annual Christmas party, and every year you'd get your hopes up.
When Jihoon didn't show up, your heart would shatter into a million pieces. You knew it was no use inviting him to these Christmas parties, knowing his empty promises would leave you feeling optimistic yet doubtful at the same time. You hadn't bothered inviting him this year; you were slowly accepting that the idol life was better than anything he had here. You knew you were being dramatic, but the constant letdown made it hard for you to think any other way.
Christmas time started to feel stale and repetitive to you now that Jihoon wasn't there. You would text him, he would promise to be there, you'd get your hopes up, and then you'd cry while you cleaned up after everyone left for the night. It was like your brain was in this sort of unbreakable pattern; it knew the outcome, but breaking the pattern wasn't an option.
So there you stood, with all of your friends cramped inside your small New York apartment. Your brain was becoming overstimulated with the number of senses to take in all at once.
"Have you heard from Jihoon at all?" Your friend asked as she filled her cup with whiskey-spiked eggnog. You shook your head, taking a sip of the thick, cinnamon and whiskey-flavored milk drink.
"No, I didn't invite him this year," you shrugged as the two of you walked back into the living room where everyone was sat, wearing ugly Christmas sweaters, singing horribly to overplayed music, and your cat swatting one of the baubles that hung a little too low to the ground off the tree.
"Why not?" She asked, stopping in the foyer with wide eyes as if she thought those words would never have left your mouth. You opened your mouth to speak when the sound of someone's fist hitting your front door with just enough force to make their presence known rang through your ears. You furrowed your brow as your eyes moved from your friend's shocked expression to the entrance of your home.
"Who's here?" Your friend asked.
"I don't know; everyone should be here already," you said as you made your way to the front door. You pressed your body against the paint-chipped hardwood as your eye peered through the peephole.
The figure that stood before your front door made your insides feel like they were going to fall from their respective places. Your hand moved from the door to the knob, opening it slowly as if you were trying to convince yourself that he was really standing there.
"Jihoon…" You said softly when the door opened enough to see the man's smiling face. You didn't give him time to register a response or even your actions as you pulled him into a hug, crying into his winter coat.
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The rest of the night turned into a red and green blur as you knocked back enough drinks to sedate a baby elephant—figuratively, of course. You and Jihoon had not so gracefully excused yourselves to your bedroom after the two of you were caught making out against your kitchen counter.
You had dreamed of this day, though being under the influence wasn't in the plan. But would the two of you have done this if you were in the right state of mind? Probably not. Something about courage in a bottle.
Your bed had never felt hotter as the two of you sloppily tore off the fabric that worked as a barrier to protect your skin from one another. The two of you kissed with a level of passion you'd only read about in books. Jihoon's hands were surprisingly skillful, even despite his inebriated state. His hands ran up the sides of your calves, the insides of your thighs before stopping at the hem of your bra.
His fingers hinted at lifting the padded fabric to toy with your already hardening buds, but instead, he halted his movements. You opened your eyes in confusion as Jihoon pulled away, your glossed-over eyes meeting his equally glossed-over eyes.
"Is this okay?" He asked, his words slurring together as he spoke. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or how the closeness of your body made him feel like fire was running through his veins.
"Yes, Ji," you replied, impatiently reaching for the back of his head to pull him into another jaw-breaking kiss.
A soft moan left your lips in response to Jihoon's warm hands pushing past the wiring of your bra, gently squeezing at the fat that made up your breasts. Another string of small moans would leave your lips and enter his mouth each time Jihoon rolled your nipples in between his fingers.
A smirk found its way to your lips when the sound of Jihoon whining filled your ears. Jihoon pulled away from the kiss and looked at the hand on his cock as if it were instinctual. The way 'fuck' rolled off his tongue was music to your ears and pussy; it made your mouth water, and you weren't sure how much longer you could put up with foreplay.
"Ji, fuck me, please," you whimpered as his hands trailed back down the path they had taken earlier. This time, however, they stopped at your panties. It was now Jihoon's turn to wear the smirk on his face as his fingers found themselves pushing the fabric of your panties to the side so they could explore the wet cavern that was your entrance.
"We've barely started, y/n," he teased as his middle and ring fingers rubbed themselves up and down the insides of your folds.
"Ji- fuck!" You whined breathlessly, feeling Jihoon's fingers diving into the ocean between your legs. Your back arched ever so lightly in response to his fingers pumping in and out of your hole.
A chuckle left your lover's throat while he left love bites along the taut skin that was your neck and chest. Your hands found themselves buried in the black locks of his hair as his fingers pushed themselves against your walls at a steady pace.
A mewl fell from your throat each time his teeth left pale pink marks against your neck, alongside the purple bruises his mouth was gifting you with each pump of his digits.
"Fuck-Ji, please!" You begged once more as the feeling of your dam breaking threatened to make an appearance. Coincidentally, your partner and your climax were two things that you hadn't seen or felt in a very long time.
The man hummed when he took his fingers out of your cunt, tugging down at your panties as if this were his way of responding to your whines. The time it took for you to have taken your bra and panties off and for Jihoon to remove himself from his boxers was a blur; your brain didn't regain consciousness or, moreover, come back to reality until Jihoon was pumping himself inside of you.
Had you been clear-minded, you would have taken more time to adjust, but tonight you just wanted to get off. The stretch of your walls was painful, yes, but the pleasure heavily outweighed the pain you would be feeling in the morning. The only sounds that bounced off your small bedroom walls were your moans and whines, along with the sloppy sound of Jihoon haphazardly fucking into you.
Your dam began to crack faster than normal as Jihoon pressed the head of his cock against the spongey spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your head twirl. You took notice of how Jihoon's hips began to stutter, signaling that he was close to breaking as well.
Your walls tightened around his cock, causing a small whimper to fall from his mouth, and his hands gripped onto the fat of your thighs even harder.
"Ji, I'm close," you whimpered and pulled at his sweat-soaked locks, eliciting another whimper to come from inside him.
"Fuck, me too, baby," he panted in response, the whimpers you had once forced out of him now falling out like a symphony of the world's finest instruments all harmonizing together.
It took only a few more powerful thrusts on his end before your dam finally broke. You arched your back as the wave of pleasure washed over your body, and your hands found themselves gripping at the pillow cases beneath you.
The way your pussy spasmed against his cock while you were falling over the edge barely gave him enough time to pull out and finish anywhere but inside of you. He whimpered with each spurt of cum that shot itself from his tip and onto the insides of your thighs.
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Waking up the next morning felt like the hardest thing you had ever done. Your head felt as though someone was hitting it over the head with a mallet, and your eyes felt like they would melt out of your sockets if you kept them open even a second longer. There was a crusted substance surrounding the inner parts of your thighs, and the sharp pain that shot through your hips solidified the suspicions you had about what that unknown mixture was.
It took the better part of an hour for you to gather the strength to stand without releasing last night's contents onto the bedroom floor. The smell of eggs and bacon definitely didn't help that feeling, nor did the spinning wheel your brain felt was on.
You trudged your way to the kitchen, suppressing any urge you had to throw up. You had assumed one of your friends had stopped by to make sure you were okay after last night's many rounds of drinks. You were partially right; it was a friend of yours, but he didn't stop by to check up on you.
"Ji?" You asked, taking a seat at the breakfast table that was used for anything but eating. He hummed in response as he plated the food. You took notice of the scratches that peaked through the collar of his shirt and blushed at the thought.
"Yea?" He asked, turning towards you as he carried the plates to the table; his hair was still messed up from last night, and he had found a pair of your sunglasses to shield his eyes from the light that gleamed through the windows that you never seemed to close with the curtains that took you an embarrassing amount of time to put up by yourself.
"Did we?" he cut you off as he placed one of the plates in front of you before he sat across from you with his own plate.
"Have sex?" He finished your question for you, and you could only nod in response. "I don't remember much from last night, but the way you looked under me is something I'd like to see again," he said with a small wink. It would have gone unnoticed if you hadn't been studying every muscle in his face.
"You want there to be a next time?" You asked, and you felt like you were interrogating him with these questions, although, if you had to be honest, you also wanted this to happen again.
"Only if you want to," he said as he ate.
"I'd like that…" you said, trailing off as you looked at the food in front of you. The last thing you wanted to do right now was eat a big breakfast of fatty foods, but you knew you needed to eat something before you filled your stomach with Advil to combat the killer migraine you had. "Are you not hungover?"
"I totally am, but one of us needed to make sure we ate," he said in response.
You smiled softly at the man before you; you couldn't tell if he was returning the stare through the sunglasses, but you didn't care either way. You were happy to finally be more than friends with your best friend.
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anonymouspuzzler · 1 year
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oh baby it is WIGGLE WEDNESDAY (note: still do not know when these are going to queue up). also, Gramble is here! these two have a fun dynamic and Wiggle especially is easy to put in Absurd Situations so there is a lot of good art of her. thanks again to @incorrectbugsnaxquotes for many inadvertent inspirations!
(alt text/image IDs under the cut!)
[Image 1 ID: Two small doodles of Wiggle. On the left is a shoulders-up drawing of Wiggle, smiling and waving with her left hand, with stars around her and text reading "the Wiggle of prosperity". On the right is Wiggle on her side, kicking one leg out and playing her banjo, with text reading "Happy WIGGLE WEDNESDAY (it's monday".]
[Image 2 ID: A drawing of Wiggle recreating the Sonic "alone on a friday night?" meme. She is on her side with her legs crossed, propped up on one arm with the other gesturing up, saying, "Alone on a Friday night? Thank you for practicing social distancing".]
[Image 3 ID: A drawing of Wiggle recreating a screenshot from Brian David Gilbert's "Unraveled". She is standing in front of a board with multiple slips of paper reading, top-to-bottom and left-to-right, "THE 10 DEFINITIVE PURPOSES OF MUSIC", "1. CREATE or CONTROL EMOTION", "2. REMEMBER OR SHARE INFORMATION", "3. ENTERTAINMENT", "4. JINGLES", "5. MARK TIME IN A GROUP", "6. [mostly cut off and unreadable]", "7. AMBIANCE", "8. CREATE OR MAINTAIN SOCIAL GROUPS", "9. [mostly cut off and unreadable] ". Wiggle is standing to the right, pointing up at #3, one hand on her hip and expression serious, saying, "Bangers only."]
[Image 4 ID: A 2-panel comic of Wiggle, recreating screenshots from Brian David Gilbert's "Unraveled". In the first panel, Wiggle is drawn from the waist-up, smiling cheekily at the camera, holding a mug in one hand while the other is on her hip, saying, "There's Red Bull in this mug." In the second, she is drawn from the knees-up, motion-blurred as she kicks high in the air with a manic grin, screaming "HIYA!"]
[Image 5 ID: A three-panel comic of Wiggle and Gramble. In the first panel, Wiggle is bent over whispering into a phone, looking worried, saying, "Darling, I need you to come pick me up right now." The journalist, represented by a little doodle of them from behind in a speech bubble, responds, "...why?" In the second panel, Wiggle is looking back over her shoulder at Gramble in the background, standing on a stepstool to grumpily wash dishes in a sink, as Wiggle whispers, "Gramble is passive-aggressively doing the dishes he asked me to do six hours ago." In the third panel, she's turned back to the phone, looking utterly terrified and whispering grimly, "This house isn't safe anymore."]
[Image 6 ID: Drawing of Wiggle in a lunge, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing around her. She is wearing an oversized baby carrier labeled "#1 BOYF CARRIER" in which Gramble sits with all his limbs limp, looking confused and slightly flustered. There are stars all around Wiggle along with cursive text reading, "fashion, bitch".]
[Image 7 ID: A doodle of Gramble sitting on Wiggle's shoulders, screaming "TOO HIGH TOO HIGH AAAAA" and rearing back in a panic, knocking her sunglasses away in the process. Wiggle, who has Gramble's panic-grip right over her eyes, is visibly grimacing.]
[Image 8 ID: A single-panel comic of Gramble and Wiggle. Gramble is sitting on the ground cross-legged, looking worried and saying, "I know you're deflectin' by makin' jokes about how hot you are--" Wiggle, kneeling next to him and clutching him tight with both arms, visibly ugly-crying, screams back, "IT'S NOT A JOKE. I'M A LEGIT SNACK".]
[Image 9 ID: Wiggle posing like a supermodel in a massive sunhat and tall platform heels with ankle straps. To her right is Gramble looking up starstruck and blushing, hands folded in front of his chest, with text next to him reading, "tall wonan."]
[Image 10 ID: A two-panel comic of Wiggle and Gramble. In the first, Wiggle is standing with one hand on her hip and the other on her chest, looking dismissively over her shoulder and saying, "Oh, come on, I wasn't that drunk." Gramble, standing next to her and looking up worriedly, responds, "You tried to color my face with a highlighter because you said I was important". In the second panel, Wiggle, clutching a flustered Gramble's head with both arms, retorts, "That's because you are."]
[Image 11 ID: A drawing of Wiggle and Gramble recreating that one meme with the tall woman. Wiggle is standing and speaking into a microphone in her right hand, while Gramble is stanced up to her left, staring up at her.]
[Image 12 ID: A drawing of Wambus, Wiggle and Gramble recreating a meme. Wambus is seen from the back in the far-left foreground of the image, while Wiggle, glaring sternly, is holding an anxious Gramble on her hip on her left side, pointing at Wambus with two fingers with her right hand.]
[Image 13 ID: A drawing of Gramble sitting on the ground with his hands on some kind of scratching post, rearing his head back to expose all his te Gramble eth.]
[Image 14 ID: A single-panel comic of Gramble and the Journalist. Gramble is sitting at a table with a striped tablecloth, head resting in one hand, looking lovestruck and saying, "Remember when Wiggle made that romantic dinner for me?" The Journalist, face obscured by steam from a hot drink, is walking over to the table placing one mug labeled "Do the Wiggle" down while holding another labeled "8 AM DEAD LINE". They respond simply, "...she microwaved you a pizza."]
[Image 15 ID: A three-panel comic of Wiggle and Gramble. In the first panel, they are sitting side-by-side on a bench, Gramble looking anxious, Wiggle looking flirtatious as she says, "Has anyone ever told you they love you?" In the second panel, Gramble, looking anxiously back, asks, "...Do my parents count?" In the final panel, Wiggle, leaning away slightly and looking worried, replies, "...yes.", to which Gramble, head in hands and looking miserable, says, "Then no."]
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nixytea · 2 years
Text
dear bus noona | n.rk
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pairing: non-idol! nishimura riki x noona! reader
genre: romance, fluff, letter, bus crush (i know cafe crush is kind of a genre but what about bus seatmates?)
inspired by: my bus rides lol
summary: in which ni-ki writes a letter to the noona who’s on his bus every day :)
wc: 646
warnings: older crush(?), mentions of crying, cat canvas bags, sad books (???i liked it so im not sure if it needs a warning)
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dear bus noona:
the first time i met you, you stole took my seat. my favourite seat!!! the window seat. and because you were sleeping, your head blocked my view so i nearly missed my stop >:(( next time sit on the outside okay? but you looked kinda cute when you were asleep…
then i started seeing you on the same bus. every single day. IN THE SAME SEAT. i caught a glimpse of your id while you were putting away your bus pass. that’s how i know you’re a noona. clever, aren’t i? :> but anyway. at least you weren’t asleep the second time. you know noona, you should sleep more, instead of relying on the horrible-smelling coffee you carry around all the time. sometimes you stare at the trees passing by, and i guess it relaxes you because after 5 minutes on the bus you look less tense than when you first get on.
last week, you started carrying a really ugly canvas bag. noona, i love cats too but please stop carrying that bag around the poor kitten’s face is misshapen. the manufacturer of your bag doesn’t do cats justice. seriously, the cat face print looks more like a pig than a cat. return it if you bought it, unless you got it as a gift, which in that case please never bring that out in public again. it’s an eyesore.
the other day, you had a new keychain on your bag zipper, with cha eunwoo’s face on it. does noona find him handsome? are you really a cha eunwoo fangirl? i’m even more good-looking than him what’s your favourite kdrama then? i’ve watched a few of the really popular ones but i don’t really know what else to watch. can noona give me some suggestions? so long as they don’t have cha eunwoo in them.
noona, you looked so funny on the bus last wednesday, crying while reading that english book that i can’t remembering the name of. (was it swing sideways? i don’t know.) i’m sorry for laughing at you. but if i hadn’t laughed you wouldn’t have yelled at me for teasing you! so you should thank me for laughing, ok? don’t be mad at me…i just thought it was cute that you could be so worked up about books. even though i’m not close to noona, just watching you has already told me so much about what you’re like. our chat was really fun, and you’re really fun too.
ahhh, noona, sometimes you’re so cute when i see you. your fashion sense makes me wonder if i’m older or you are. you’re so weird, noona! you’re such an odd person, and i can’t help but want to be friends with you. so dear bus noona, talk to me more ok?
with love,
the kid on the bus who squished your crocheting project by accident ♡
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riki sighed, head tilting backwards as he leaned back into his chair. the white light from his desk lamp illuminated his ghostly complexion, and he realised he’d been up far too late for a kid who still had school the next day. twirling his favourite pen absentmindedly, riki reread his letter one more time, before humming in satisfaction when he found no more areas to be corrected. in went the fancy parchment paper, and all that was left on riki’s desk was a lavender-scented manila envelope held in place by a piece of twine. (he’d borrowed konon’s perfume, and he’d make sure sola took that secret to the grave.)
unbeknownst to riki, there was a small smile gracing his lips as he went to bed that night. he needed the sleep, after all tomorrow was going to be a big day. with the flip of a switch, the room was plunged into darkness, but the tiny flame of hope in riki’s heart glowed brighter than anything.
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a/n: so…here we are. i just think ni-ki’s adorable. i’m not even older than the beloved maknae so why am i writing about being his noona T-T but anyway! this is my first time writing fluff in a long while so im very rusty but it’s my soft hours so enjoy it while it lasts
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hopeyblogs · 1 year
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I want to ask if you'd like to make a fics that reader sacrifice his life for Rowan in the festival and like Reader gave him his last kiss, he never forgive Wednesday because he thought that its Wednesday's fault
I don't know why I requests this, I'm just bored 🙂
y'all rly love to cry :( thank you anon for requesting!! enjoy <33 ⇢Masterlist
(reader has mind control as powers/ like telekinesis but she can the person's mind only. Telekinesis controls their movement!!)
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A demise
White lunar shone through the night, sweet smells, colourful lights, lively laughs, It was perfect. Going to the festival with your boyfriend Rowan.
Although he was quiet. Something was distracting him.
"Rowan? You okay?" You concerned
"I'm fine" he mumbled.
You decided not to push him and divert your attention to some of the stalls. You felt a wind passing by and Rowan disappeared?
You saw he was running towards the forest. You had no choice to follow him.
"Rowan! Where are you going?!" pushing past through the crowds. He was fast. You were trying to catch up.
"Rowan! what's the meaning of this?" You screamed for him. He disappeared into the forest and you followed closely behind him.
He was talking with Wednesday and she was held onto a tree. You had to step in.
"Rowan? What are you doing? Let Wednesday down! You're going to hurt her!" you shooked his hands. He pushed you down replying with "You don't understand y/n! She could kill us!"
What the fuck did he mean? kill us? what? "Let her go Rowan! This can settled without any force!" You pulled his hands. He ignored you and accidentally pushing you with his telekinesis. You hit your head on a nearby tree.
Almost getting a concussion, you muster up the strength to stay awake. A nearby growl was heard between the trees. That wasn't good.
Your peripheral vision caught an ugly monster waiting for the right time to pounce aiming on Rowan. Your thoughts ran wild. Should you save him and Wednesday or run away. It was a blur.
But apparently your heart made the decision for you. Right before the monster pounces on him. You activated your powers and controls its mind. Making it run away from the three of you.
But god was it painful. Your head was already hit and your energy was slowly draining. Your body was weakening. Your consciousness was leaving, dark spots blinding your sight. You had to fight the pain to save someone's life.
With your weakened state, your grasp over the monster was weakening. It regains back it's surroundings and aimed on you instead. You couldn't run away, your body betrayed your mind, fear struck within, fatigued runs in your body. Screams and growls filled your ears.
Pain filled your loins, vision turning black. He was hysterical. This couldn't be happening. You were the only he had left. No. There must be some way to save you. Please. Let this be a nightmare. "y/n! y/n! please! come on! come on come on. Please don't! CALL THE POLICE!" he begged and pawed at your bloodied and bruised body. Denying of your pain.
With the last amount of strength you had. Soft eyes looking back at his teary eyes. You lift your hands and pull him into one last kiss. A kiss to mourn his lose, to bring him back to you one last time. Letting go. You mutter a whisper "I love you Rowan. Don't blame yourself dear" Lifeless body limp on his lap. A soft smile etched on your face. You never regretted saving him. He was always worth saving.
He wasn't having one more loss. His mind was clouding with anger. The prophecy was true. Wednesday could harm the school. She killed the only one he had left. He'll make sure she'll pay for your life, but for now, he'll sob and grieve for his loss. He'll kill for you.
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dribs-and-drabbles · 4 months
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15 people, 15 questions
Thanks for tagging me @colourme-feral, @wen-kexing-apologist and @thegalwhorants! I wrote this at night on Christmas Eve but then tumblr ate the post when I moved it from my drafts to my queue, so I had to write the whole thing again...
1. Are you named after anyone?
No. My parents had a difficult time deciding on a name and just eventually landed on the one they gave me.
2. When was the last time you cried?
Well that depends on what kind of crying... I teared up last Wednesday when my furniture and belongings arrived from being in storage for 17 months. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my breath hitched a few times when I watched ep 6 Last Twilight (damn you Aof!) nearly two weeks ago. But the last time I ugly sobbed was whilst watching a musical in June, but I was feeling especially emotional about my temporary living situation at the time.
3. Do you have kids?
No.
4. What sports do you play/have you played?
I don't play any now (but I do go to the gym) but when I was a kid I did gymnastics and then dance (although that's not a sport). I played different sports in school but only because I had to and they weren't any I really enjoyed.
5. Do you use sarcasm?
Sarcasm? Who, me?! Nooooooo never.
6. What's the first thing you notice about people?
Probably their posture or body language.
7. What's your eye colour?
To be honest I'm not sure. There's grey and bits of blue and green and even brown but I wouldn't be able to call it a colour. I used to say hazel but then I realised hazel was more brown than my eyes are so I don't really know.
8. Scary movies or happy endings?
Oh happy endings for sure. I mean, I'm on (this) tumblr because of the qls I watch so it should be obvious.
9. Any talents?
I can hold a handstand for 30 secs (I've also managed 1 min in the past but that was a while ago now) but that feels more like a party trick than a talent. I guess I could say dancing. Oh, maybe guessing the time usually quite accurately.
10. Where were you born?
In the UK, specifically England.
11. What are your hobbies?
Apart from going to the gym, handstanding and watching ql series? I'm currently obsessed with the clothes from the shows 😅...but I also like to go for walks, sometimes I play boardgames, and I like to read (I've been mainly reading fan fic recently though). I also think about lego a lot (and now I have my own place I might get some sets - bonsai tree my beloved) and I used to write but it's been a few years since I last wrote anything.
12. Do you have any pets?
No. I've had cats in the past and I'd like another cat at some point but not for a while.
13. How tall are you?
I'm not 🤭
14. What was your favourite subject in school?
I can't remember now but probably geography...but more geology than countries...or creative writing. There was a point where I enjoyed maths...but didn't study it beyond 16.
15. What is your dream job?
I'd actually like to be able to not work, or to only work part time. I've been lucky to have actually had my dream job and I'm very grateful for the opportunity/experience.
So that's it! I guess I should tag 15 people since that's the title of this game, so here goes: @grapejuicegay @telomeke (I know you've been tagged a few times) @respectthepetty (I know you've done it already but I wanted to tag you anyway) @celestial-sapphicss @dimplesandfierceeyes @chickenstrangers @wen-kexing-apologist (I know you've already done it as well but leaving this tag here anyway) @waitmyturtles @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @slayerkitty @ranchthoughts @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas @btwinlines @starryalpacasstuff No pressure obviously. (bonus tag for @absolutebl because I like it when you answer these kinds of things using only photos /gifs)
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Text
I Got You
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Pairing: Jack Kline X Reader (she/her)
Requested by: anon
Word Count: 664
Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of harassment, mentions of a shitty boss
Summary: long day n hugs from Jack. That's it, that's the fic
A/N: it's Wings Wednesday!! And I actually posted something today!!
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There was exactly one thing that got Y/N through the day. Kept the smile on her face - a shield against adults having a temper tantrum because of a messed up order (by themselves) - kept her hands from shaking when she pushed the sleazy fingers from her hips.
Jack promised to come over tonight. After her shift at the restaurant.
She had planned the whole night; first, she would pick up some take out on her way home, then she would shower and just barely have the time to get dressed and feel more like herself and then, finally, Jack would be there. They would he having lots of fun. Y/N promised herself that.
But as most things went, nothing happened according to plan.
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When the front door closed behind her, it was approximately an hour later than she wanted it to be and her face was already hot from yet unshed tears.
A first sob bubbled up.
"Baby?"
Y/N jumped, hand clutching her keys.
But it was only Jack.
Sweet Jack, coming closer with hesitant steps, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He held out a hand as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch. "What's wrong?"
"I-" Y/N took a shaky breath, "it's - all those people - and-"
It was no use. Her throat was closing up again as the sneer of her boss replayed itself, his angry shouts echoing in her skull, rattling it from the inside. Y/N could still feel the hungry eyes burning her skin.
She couldn't take it, it was too much, but she needed the money and what was a hand up her skirt, really, it wasn't like it actually got bad bad -
"Y/N, please look at me." Jack still wasn't touching her. Just standing, hand extended palm upwards like one would do with a shy animal.
And she couldn't take it anymore. She needed him to comfort her, it was scary. Like a physical ache underneath her skin that only Jack could calm with his presence. His warm hands, his soft clothes, his careful words.
For once, Y/N gave in.
As soon as their eyes met, something inside of her loosened. A little bit like a knife being pulled out of a bleeding cut.
She all but fell forward, lucky enough to be caught.
"I got you," Jack whispered.
And he did. His arms around her waist were an anchoring weight, his body pressed close to hers seemingly the only solid, the only real thing in the world.
Then, completely unexpectedly, something else was placed around her body. At first, Y/N thought it was a blanket.
But it couldn't be, there was no room for Jack to have grabbed one. It was not as substantial as a blanket either. A warm whisper of light, of something incredibly soft and sheltering encased her.
With a start that stopped the tears for just a second, she realised what it was. Jack's wings.
It felt like a hug in a hug and at the same time like something sacred. Something Y/N had to savour.
"It's okay," Jack shushed her, his hands drawing circles on her back.
She hadn't even noticed that she was crying again, harder than before. Only when Y/N heard her own ugly sobs, she could start to get them under control. It was harder than she expected. "I'm sorry, I'm-"
"Shh." He merely pressed her closer, one hand on the back of her neck now.
So Y/N listened. Too tired to complain, really, too mentally drained. It felt good too, being held like that.
"You're gonna be okay."
Comforted, wrapped in safety, wrapped in Jack, Y/N allowed herself a few more moments of weakness.
He held her through it, only disturbance was the few moves he needed to maneuver them to the ground. His arms and wings remained tightly wrapped around her as Jack pulled her against his chest and in his lap.
With his steady heartbeat anchoring her, Y/N could finally breathe again.
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General Taglist: @immrbrightsideeee , @fandomfoodiedancer , @lovesfandoms , @nyotamalfoy , @stixnstripesworld , @foxyjwls007 , @amythedoctor , @alexxavicry
Jack Taglist: @sweater-weather-spn
Join a Taglist
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 10 months
Note
Hi, could you write about laurel and student reader that in the end if laurel's plan is fulfilled and she ends up with reader but because of reader's abilities and condition she survives. and laurel He gets enraged and out of anger he says very ugly things to reader and that he never felt anything for her and he wishes she was dead. Then they catch her and put her in the psychiatric hospital. And reader is completely devastated. And the police call her to testify and offer her to go see Laurel. She refuses and leaves, but Laurel At that very moment he escapes and finds her.
Yessss, here it it is!!! I hope you like it, and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))
I thought you loved me
Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/Laurel Gates x Fem Student! Reader
Warnings: Angst, bad choices
Word count: 2,958
Summary: She’s not the woman you love, she said that you don’t mean anything to her… You’re devastated
N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!
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“Please, don't…” You whispered, seeing the woman you loved take off her mask.
She wasn't the lovely Marilyn Thornhill, the innocent and kind botany teacher. She was Laurel Gates, daughter of a family of psychopaths. The little girl who faked her death and swore revenge on all outcasts, without exception. Your relationship was forbidden, it was a sin, something immoral. Even so, you decided to forget what they could say about you.
That clandestine relationship was the best thing that had ever happened to you. She was your teacher, you were her student. No one would ever accept it. You dreamed of one day leaving Nevermore, Jericho, and living a life together with her, a real life, without having to look around every corner looking for possible accusing eyes. All those dreams were shattered that night, when you discovered her true personality. She was a murderer, a psychopath, she wanted to kill you all, and you weren't sure if she wanted the same for you.
“Get out of my way, (Y/N), I don't want to hurt you,” she told you coldly, leaving aside the shovel with which she had just hit Wednesday, your classmate. You grabbed her arm, pleading. Your eyes were red from crying.
“Stop, please… I love you…” You sobbed. She wriggled out of your grasp in a nasty way, pushing you to the ground.
“I told you to get out of my way!” She yelled, threatening. You cried even more, sitting on the floor next to Wednesday’s unconscious body.
“No, I won't get away, I can't, I can't let you do it!” You said. You pounced on her and made her fall.
“Damn! You're stupid!” Laurel said, rubbing her back, surely due to the impact on the floor. “You wanted it. I was going to take you with me, but now I know you're just another filthy outcast...”
The redhead stormed over to her desk, grabbing a syringe, which contained a different colored liquid than the one she injected into Principal Weems.
You lacked the strength. She had never treated you that way. She told you every night that she loved you, that you were the only thing that mattered to her. Maybe you had been believing her lies for too long, maybe deep down in your heart, you still believed them.
You tried to dodge her prick, but it was impossible. The syringe sank into your skin, and the liquid stung your veins like acid.
“Now you will stay here, you will not wake up until tomorrow, and you will lose the opportunity that I was going to offer you. You're an idiot, (Y/N),” she told you while you faded on the floor.
The last thing you saw was her angry and disappointed look. You couldn't do anything else, you fell into a deep sleep.
“Laurel…” You whispered, opening your eyes. You were dizzy, and a strange liquid was coming out of your nose. Surely the redhead did not remember your miraculous ability to heal yourself, to reject everything that could harm you in any way.
There was no one in the conservatory, but it hadn't been long. It was still night. You got up slowly and wiped your nose. You left the old building, desperately trying to do something to avoid the plans of that woman, the woman you would give your life for, the woman you couldn't stop loving.
Your body expelled that poison and still had a chance to change things, or so you thought.
You went out to the patio, where only Wednesday and Bianca were. You sighed with relief, everything indicated that that nightmare was over. The click of a gun sounded, telling you that nothing really had changed.
Laurel appeared on the scene, holding a pistol, which was pointed directly at the young Addams.
“I won't be able to kill all the outcasts, but at least I can kill you, Wednesday,” the redhead said, about to pull the trigger.
“No!” You yelled and ran towards the young woman, pulling her out of her path. Laurel fired, hitting you in the arm.
“(Y/N)?” The redhead asked, her eyes wide.
You grabbed your injured arm, as it began to heal on its own, leaving only a small scar. Wednesday gave you a grateful nod and she helped you up.
“You should be unconscious! The dose I gave you was for you to sleep for at least 12 hours!” She yelled angrily.
You didn't answer, you just stared at her.
“You are an idiot…”
“I'm not an idiot,” you hissed, finally facing your great love. “I have prevented you from doing something even more crazy than what you have already done. You're not like that, I know you're not like that.”
The redhead laughed evilly, while she gave a dark look of absolute hatred.
“You don't know anything about me, (Y/N). Did you really think that I liked you, that I loved you?”
You nodded, scared of where this conversation was going.
“No, (Y/N). I don't love you, and I can never love you. You are a silly girl, who believed everything I said without questioning. You were just an outcast, you're nothing to me.”
“I…I thought that…”
“You thought… Don't be ridiculous!” She yelled, apparently enjoying seriously hurting your feelings. “I just used you, stupid. You were of no use to me except for fun. The truth is that I really enjoyed stealing your innocence...”
You started to cry and fell to the ground on your knees. You were listening to horrible things, too horrible for you.
“Stop crying!” She yelled at you.
Your two companions watched the scene, horrified.
“You're pathetic. I should have killed you,” she finally said, pointing the gun again, this time towards you.
“Hands up!” Sheriff Galpin, along with the entire Jericho police force, suddenly appeared, pointing at Laurel. “Drop the gun! Now!”
Laurel freaked out, but she didn't stop smiling. She gave you a wicked look and dropped her gun to the ground, leaving the cops to immediately handcuff her.
“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say may be used in your…”
“I'll kill you all! I'll kill you all!” The deranged redhead yelled, as they dragged her out of the school. You never saw eyes so full of anger, of evil.
You couldn't sleep that night. You were devastated. Everything that had happened was not as important as those words of contempt from you thought, was the woman of your life.
The next day your mother was there. They called all the parents to come to take you home. You didn't want to talk to anyone, you wanted to be alone.
“(Y/N), please say something…” Your mother said to you, putting a reassuring hand on your back.
“I don't want to talk to you, mom, I just want to get out of here,” you sobbed, with bloodshot eyes and a broken heart.
“I know, honey, but the police want to take a statement from everyone who was present. I have spoken with the sheriff and he will speak with you this afternoon,” your mother said, sitting on the bed next to you.
“I have nothing to say…” You whispered, hugging the pillow tightly.
“He has also informed me of something that I would like you to tell me, (Y/N)…” She said, in a more serious tone.
“What?” You asked, scared.
“The sheriff has received some information about that horrible woman... They say she abused you...”
You turned scared. Surely Bianca and Wednesday had talked about the argument you had with Laurel on the patio. You couldn't feel more ashamed at that moment.
“That's not true,” you said, shaking your head.
“Honey, I know it can be hard but…”
“I'm telling you that's not true!” You yelled, making your mother recoil.
“For God's sake, (Y/N), calm down,” she said, having an excess of patience that wasn't very normal.
“I'm of legal age, I don't have to explain myself,” you said, deciding to stop talking.
“Oh, dear…”
That afternoon you went to the police station. The sun was no longer shining. You had waited too long, you didn't even have tears left to cry with.
“Well, sit down, please,” the sheriff told you. His son was also detained, it had to be very hard for that man as well.
You obeyed and began to tell what happened, omitting some details, of course. The deputy pointed everything you said, not hiding her pitying face towards you. Your mother wanted to go in with you, but you refused, you didn't want any more humiliation.
“There's something else we need to talk about, Ms. (Y/N),” Galpin said, leaning on the table with his elbows. –“I have received information that this woman, Laurel Gates, has gone overboard with you in some way, is it true?”
“No,” You said dryly, noticing how your cheeks turned red.
“Ms. I understand that it is a complicated matter…. But in the psychiatric hospital they have asked me for a report about all the evils of her. I would not want to leave anything behind.”
“Is she in a psychiatric hospital?” You asked without thinking. The sheriff leaned back in his chair, his gaze questioning.
“Do you mind?” He asked curiously.
Your hands began to shake and you bit your lip until it bled. You were too clumsy.
“No… It's just…” You said, stuttering. The sheriff nodded and gestured for his partner to make a note in her notebook.
“No, she's not there yet, they'll move her in about… 10 minutes,” he said, looking at his watch. “Maybe you want to say goodbye.”
When people said that the police weren't stupid, they weren't kidding. You were so obvious that you wanted to scream with rage. That offer was tempting, one last farewell, one last "I love you." You soon remembered that she didn't love you at all, you remembered the way she used you, the things you did for her, and with her, thinking that she loved you as much as you loved her.
Your eyes filled with tears as your tremors increased. Your breathing quickened dangerously and your heart was beating so fast that it seemed to want to get out of your chest. You were having the anxiety crisis that you didn't have hours before. All events fell on you in that instant, causing you a terrible panic.
“Ms. (Y/N), are you alright?” the assistant asked, looking at you with pity. You shook your head and got up abruptly from the chair.
“Calm down, she can't hurt you anymore,” the sheriff told you, raising and lowering his arms.
“Shut up! Everyone shut up!” You yelled, out of control. You turned to the door and ran, escaping the police station.
You ran without looking back, you didn't even bother to respond to your mother's screams. You had to get to a place that didn't exist, a place where none of that happened.
Soon the light from the streetlights became dim and your strength faltered. You stopped and put your hands on your knees, panting. You didn't know how long you had been running, but the night was even darker. You looked around you and realized you were lost. The road was dark, there was no light. You looked back to see the glare of the streetlights and headed toward the light, shivering now, but afraid.
You walked fast, as fast as your exhausted body would allow you. You started to feel something strange, like someone was chasing you. You ran scared, but soon you collided with something, or rather, with someone.
“(Y/N), nice to see you.”
In front of you was someone who just couldn't be there. Tyler Galpin, the sheriff's son, your lover's monstrous slave. The Hyde that terrified hikers in the woods. He was wearing a convict uniform, along with a torn straitjacket. When you could look a little, you discovered that his clothes were stained with blood. His smile was calm, even loving. You backed away, scared.
“Tyler…what are you doing here?” You asked, wishing you didn't trip as you walked backwards.
“Oh, well, come to look for you, of course. I saw you leaving the police station and I followed you here. You run very fast, it's cool,” he said, with a voice that was too calm.
“Tyler… You should be… You shouldn't be here…” You said, your whole body shaking with terror. You had no choice, you had to ask for help. “Hel….”
You couldn't scream, someone covered your mouth from behind and grabbed you hard.
“Shhh, don't yell, my love,” A familiar voice whispered in your ear. Laurel.
You turned when she released you and you looked at her in astonishment. Indeed, it was her. She was there, just as you remembered her the last time you saw her. You didn't understand anything, but you felt the need to run away.
“La, Laurel…” You sighed, looking horrified at the redhead.
“Did you think you'd never see me again?” She asked, smiling as she gently grabbed your waist.
“You, you were arrested… The sheriff said so,” you stammered.
“You said it, I was,” she said amused, bringing her hand to your cheek. “Having a Hyde under control is more useful than I thought, right Tyler?” She said, looking at the boy, who nodded effusively.
“But, but…” You said, being silenced by a tender, soft, affectionate kiss.
“Oh, my love, I missed you so much…” She whispered to you.
Tears ran down your cheeks again. You shook your head, thinking you had passed out and were dreaming.
“You... You said you didn't love me... That you only used me,” you said. You had your priorities. The redhead sighed and looked back at the boy.
“Tyler, go get the car and change the license plate.” The boy immediately nodded and ran off, getting lost in the dark. “Let's take a walk, (Y/N), it's a wonderful night.”
You had no other choice. She seemed like a more normal person. Calm, serene. You shouldn't have done it, she had just escaped from the police station and all Jericho would be looking for her. But your love for her was still intact, uncorrupted. You nodded and she smiled, taking your hand.
You started to walk slowly, disappearing into the darkness.
“I'm so sorry for everything I said, (Y/N). None of that was true,” she said with a kind, tender tone.
“You said you wanted to kill me… That you only used me for fun… That you didn't feel anything for me,” you sobbed, squeezing her hand tightly.
“I know what I said honey, but I was just protecting you,” she said, looking at you lovingly.
“Protecting me? You said that our relationship was a lie, that I was an idiot,” you said, in a loud tone. Laurel put a hand over your mouth.
“Don't talk so loud, honey, please,” she begged you. “I know what it looked like, but believe me, I just wanted the best for you. What do you think would have happened if they had found out about our relationship?”
You ducked your head, you didn't have an answer.
“I don't know…” You whispered, wiping away a tear.
“I'll tell you what would have happened, (Y/N). They would have arrested you too. You would be complicit, they would take you to jail, we would never see each other again. Remember that you got me the Book of Shadows…”
She was right. You did things for her that you never questioned. You were convinced that you could have explained it, but you finally understood the meaning of those horrible words.
“So… do you love me?” You asked. You were walking with a runaway, but your heart needed those answers.
“With all my soul, (Y/N). I wouldn't be here if I didn't,” she said, stopping walking and kissing you again.
“But, but I am an outcast… I…”
“Shhh, shut up, my love…” She said, shutting you up again with her lips. “I don't care what you are, I care that you're with me.”
You pulled away and hugged her, breaking into desperate tears. You grabbed her clothes tightly, while the redhead gently caressed your head. The noise of an engine startled you, and her too.
Fortunately, it was Tyler, with the blue Cadillac that ran over the mayor. He stoped next to you.
Laurel took your hands and looked at you intently.
“Come with me, (Y/N). Let's get out of here, to live the life I promised you,” she told you.
You looked down, hesitating, wondering what you should do. You knew what you should, but you also knew what you wanted.
“I… I…” You stammered, repressing the answer you already had in your mind.
“Don't worry about a thing, honey. I'll take care of everything. We will be together, somewhere sunny, in a house just for us. Also, Tyler is the best of pets, he'll do anything you ask, right Tyler?”
The boy leaned out of the window and nodded smiling. At least he was no longer wearing those bloody clothes.
“Yes, yes…” You said abruptly. “Let's go…. I want, I want to go with you… I love you,” you said, kissing her repeatedly on the cheek. She laughed and gently pushed you away.
“Me too, my love… Come on, let's not waste any more time. Tyler will drive, while you and I make up for lost time… I really want to make love to you right now…”
You nodded and got into the back seat of the car.
You knew it wasn't the right thing to do, but it was what you wanted, what you needed. You didn't care about anything else, just living with her the life she promised you when she still called herself Marilyn.
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ashtrayfloors · 2 months
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My life is pretty good, these days. Not perfect, of course, but I’ve had a lot of moments recently when I’ve been in the middle of doing whatever and said to myself, a la Kurt Vonnegut: “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
For a while I was going through an “ugly phase,” where every time I saw myself (in photos, in the mirror), I’d go uggghhh. I felt old and hideous. But I’m past it now. I got over it partly by focusing on other stuff that makes me happy—when I’m focused on other stuff, I care less about how I look, but what ends up happening is that the happier I am with other aspects of my life, the better I think I look.
My gender has flipped again, and I once again feel like a woman. I’ve also gone back to using both they/them and she/her pronouns (like, officially; unofficially I’m okay with they, she, and he, especially if people switch them up a lot), for several reasons which I don’t feel like enumerating right now. Every time something like this happens—meaning I change pronouns or genders, particularly when the pronouns or gender align with my AGAB—I go through a brief crisis of: “Oh my god, I’m not really nonbinary, I was just fooling myself the entire time.” And then I remember that I’m genderfluid, and pronouns =/= gender, and even calling myself a girl or a woman doesn’t have to mean just one thing. Like I wrote in my recent novel-related zine, about the character Whiskey (who is me and not-me): ‘Girl’—or any other gendered term—isn’t a box, it’s a signifier. When you call Whiskey a girl, you’re pointing toward a set of characteristics they have, which may or may not be the same characteristics any other ‘girl’ has. You know what you mean when you say Whiskey’s a girl. If the reader doesn’t get it? Fuck ‘em. That’s their problem.
Saturday night was the big Literacy Council fundraiser at the Roma Lodge, which I was an invited guest at, along with some of the other previous and current Writers-in-Residence. And I got a plus-one, so P. went with me. The dinner was good; they served it family-style for every table, so we passed around salad and bread, followed by fried chicken, mostaccioli, and meatballs. The best part of the evening was the timed Scrabble tournament. Our table won, and they gave us all these really nice journals as prizes; but just the playing itself was so much fun, and full of hilarious moments that I was laughing about for days afterward. And it was great to be around so many of my friends, and to have my husband with me—most times when I’m at an event, he’s home with the kids.
Sunday night I attended an online (Zoom) poetry open mic. A lot of my friends and acquaintances read that night, and it was great to hear them, but then there was this mix-up with the sign-up list so I ended up never getting “called to the mic,” and I was bummed. But then the next day I got a message from the host—he felt so bad about the whole thing that he offered me the feature slot for April. I accepted!
And speaking of April… For years now, I’ve thought about applying for [redacted], and I finally went for it, and I got accepted! So in April I’m doing [redacted]. I’m excited, and a little nervous, but mostly excited.
Monday and Tuesday were super warm—in the sixties, which is incredibly warm for the upper midwest in March, especially here by the lake. I spent a lot of time outside, both days. Monday, C. and I took a quick trip downtown, to get this year’s veggie garden seeds from the library; afterwards, we got gelato at the cafe. Tuesday, we took a long walk, and I got to have my first iced coffee of the year.
Wednesday, late afternoon, the temperature dropped, and I got a massive sinus headache (as I often do when the air pressure changes rapidly). It hurt so bad I got nauseous and shaky and wanted to cry; I had to lay in bed for a while with my heated sinus mask on just to make it even somewhat bearable. Sometimes I think my sinus issues don’t count as a real disability, but then something like that happens and I’m like: wait, the pain is sometimes so bad I can’t do anything? Yeah, that’s a real disability.
Yesterday I hung out with my mom. It’s so weird. Half the time she stresses me the fuck out and I don’t even want to be around her (like—half the time I love her but I don’t like her, ya know?), but the other half the time we have a blast and I’m really glad she’s my mom. Yesterday was a lovely day. We went downtown. She treated us to brunch. I had a twist on an Irish coffee, what they call an “Irish Americano”—a cafe Americano with both Irish whiskey and bourbon in it—and the Mediterranean skillet (eggs served over hashbrowns mixed with red onion, tomatoes, artichoke hearts, kalamata olives, feta cheese, and hummus). We sat there for a long time, even after we finished eating, and had a great conversation. Then we went to the art museum, and I saw a lot of really amazing pieces, and got inspired, and got emotional, and gosh I just love art so much!! And I’m so happy our town has not one but two art museums! And then I splurged a little in the gift shop. Oh, yeah: I have a credit card now! My first-ever credit card, at age forty fucking two, because I never qualified for one before. My bank offers secured credit cards to help people build their credit, and I applied for one earlier this month and got accepted. I purposely set it for the lowest limit possible, and believe me, I’m being very careful not to overspend to the point where I’ll never pay it off. But if I never use it at all, I’ll never build my credit, so…yeah, I splurged just a tiny bit. I bought a gorgeously illustrated book of excerpts from Pablo Neruda poems (that one’s for me and the kids), and a card game that involves both visual art and poetry, which, well, sign me the fuck up.
We also had a neat interaction with one of the gift shop cashiers—he’d seen the umbrella I was carrying when we walked in, a University of Michigan umbrella, and told us he’d recently moved here from Michigan. We asked him what part, and he said Flint, and we were like hey! We lived there, too! He’d lived there his whole life up until six months ago when he moved to Wisconsin, whereas we only lived there for six years (and left 34 years ago), but still. Small world.
Last night, P. and I had some wild, passionate sex.
On the not-so-good front: this morning, P. started coming down with some unspecified yuck. He’s testing negative for CoViD so far, which is good, but I know there’s a gnarly non-CoViD chest cold floating around right now, too, as I have some friends who’ve had it. Unfortunately, this means we can’t go to the St. Patrick’s Day parade tomorrow, which sucks, but what’re you gonna do? I’m trying to take precautions—I’ve changed out the sheets and towels, aired out the bedrooms, wiped down surfaces, and taken Emergen-C. P. is keeping to himself as much as possible. So far, the kids and I still feel okay, so hopefully we don’t get whatever it is (or that it’s mild, if we do).
I had to go out and run some errands today (post office, grocery store), so I masked up and went out (I’m not perfect about masking 100% of the time, but I always mask if I have any symptoms of anything or if I know I’ve been exposed to something). I had a lovely interaction with an old woman at the grocery store. (I say she was old not as a pejorative, but because she was definitely in her late eighties or maybe even in her nineties.) We were both entering the liquor department at the same time, and she said: “I love your hair! I used to be a redhead, too, before it went white.” “Thanks! This isn’t my natural color, though.” “I know,” she said. “No one’s hair is that shade. But it suits you! And I love your boots, too!” (I was wearing my tall black boots with all the buckles, that I got for my birthday.) “Thank you!” I said again. “And I love your jacket!” (She was wearing a very pretty yellow jacket.) Then we happened to both be going for the Jameson. She laughed and said: “I can’t drink like I used to—I used to be able to put ‘em away with the best of ‘em—but you have to have a little Jameson on St. Paddy’s Day!” “Or just because it’s a day that ends in a ‘y’!” I said, half-joking. She laughed and said: “Oh, I love your spirit, too! Perhaps I will just take you home with me!” I don’t know if she meant that in a queer way or an “you’re the granddaughter I never had” way, but either way, I appreciated it. I love encounters like that with elderly folks; I like knowing that one can live that long and still have that kind of energy.
What else? It’s Pisces season, still. Which means I have strange, intense dreams nearly every night, and during the day I’m either horny, or sad, or both. I know, I said I’m mostly happy these days, and I am, but I’m still sad a lot, too. Maybe ‘melancholy’ is a better word for what I mean.
I have a crush, my first proper crush (i.e., not a friend-crush, and not a crush on a celebrity) in a while. Her name is K., I first met her back in November, and for a while I tried to convince myself it was just a friend crush. “No no, I don’t have a crush on her,” I’d say to myself, “I just think she’s neat and wanna hang out with her.” But then when I compared how I feel when I run into her or see pictures of her, or just even think about her, vs. how I feel about my friend-crushes, I was like: “Ooooh, okay, no, she definitely gives me pants feelings and a little flutter in my tummy. It’s a crush crush.” Nothing shall come of this crush, but that’s okay. I’m fine with casually crushing on her. It’s nice just to feel those feelings again. Gets the blood flowing, makes me know I’m still alive, y’know? Plus, since she’s also a poet and spoken word performer whose work I love, I’m using some of the crush energy to try and impress her with my literary artistry.
And I have been missing past loves, what else is new. I’ve been missing A.D. and A.C., my two boys with the same first name from the same Chicago suburb. I’ve been missing "Sullivan," and S., and F. And of course other than the two A.s, I haven’t seen or spoken to any of them in years and years. And even with the A.s… I realize that I don’t know them anymore, so when I miss them I’m missing who they were—and I’m also missing who I was back then. What’s that quote about desire? About how it’s not just a desire for a person, place, or thing, but rather a desire to be the person who fits with that person, place, or thing? It’s like that. When I miss old loves (or old friends, or places I once knew, etc.), I don’t just miss them, I miss being the person who fit with them, once upon, however briefly.
But then there’s the flipside to all the yearning for new crushes and old flames, and that’s realizing: I do have a lot of amazing people in my life. I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years, but I still have so many wonderful friends, both old and new. In the past year, I’ve even reconnected with some people whom I thought were out of my life for good, and it’s just good to know—though some friends may leave my life forever, others will come in and out of it. Maybe "Filia" was right, all those years ago. Maybe some “see yas” really do mean “see ya down the road,” not “goodbye forever.”
And romantically—every day, I look at P. and am just so happy he’s my person. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs over the course of our relationship—as of June, we’ll have been together fifteen years—and I know we’ve both had times when we’ve thought of calling it quits. But we’ve always managed to work it out, and our relationship has gotten stronger and stronger, and I just love him so much. I can’t imagine having anyone else as my primary partner.
The kids have been flooring me lately, too, in the best possible way. Again, there are struggles, but overall I’m just amazed by them and love them more every day. Especially as they’ve both been getting into music—both playing it and listening to it. D. has gotten really into Pearl Jam, which is so funny. Partly because until fairly recently, he was ambivalent about rock music, and was more into techno and hip hop. Which is obviously fine; I like music in both those genres, and I’m definitely not the type of parent to force my kids to like what I like. (I introduce them to stuff I like, but I don’t make them like it, y’know?) So it’s kinda cool that he’s coming around to rock and its various subgenres on his own. But it’s also funny because he’s twelve, and it was around that same age that I first got into Pearl Jam.
I’ve been rekindling my love for Shakespeare’s plays, recently. Not that it ever really goes away completely, it’s just that it’s such a long-running special interest of mine that it’ll go on the backburner for a while, and then something will spark and it’s like oh no, I’m obsessed with Shakespeare again. Which is what’s happening currently. I’ve decided that I’m going to study Shakespeare with D. as part of his curriculum next month. We’re going to cover one comedy and one tragedy. I’ve already chosen Hamlet for the tragedy (he’s a moody tween, I think it’s perfect), but I haven’t chosen a comedy yet, because I love all of Shakespeare’s comedies so much.
On a related note: my mom recently had me go through the few things of mine that were still at their house, and one was a book called Shakespeare for Beginners, which I got when I was 15 or 16. I wasn’t even really a beginner at that point—I’d already seen many Shakespeare plays, and had been in A Midsummer Night’s Dream twice!—but I think I got it for a school project because it does have pretty good summaries of all his plays and a bit of his poetry. Anyway, I was flipping through it, and I found a letter inside, from the American Birding Association, thanking me for registering as a Young Birder of the Year, from the year I was 16/17. I laughed my ass off, and thought of that quote from Tight Pants zine about being the strange, smart kid. Because that time in my life was full of similar dichotomies. Yeah, I studied Shakespeare and was an amateur birder. I also had sex with boys and girls, went to punk shows, and got stoned. Punk? Punk! Or, you know, to quote Whitman: Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself.
The other week, in my Facebook memories, I saw a post I made in 2017: I declare this year my year of writing like hell and resisting despair. I reposted it, saying that I was gonna try to match that same energy this year, and so far I have been. I’ve got my novel in progress, I write 1-2 mini-zines a month for my zine subscription thing + the occasional installment of my Substack newsletter, and I’m still averaging 1.5 drafts of new poems per day. And then, Wednesday, I did my weekly tarot and oracle draw. This time, I drew one card from the Art Witch oracle deck, and one from the Rust Belt Arcana tarot deck. Both the cards I drew have to do with abundance, fertility, inspiration, and creativity—the Rainbow from the oracle deck, and The Empress from the tarot. I reread the chapter about The Empress in The Creative Tarot by Jessa Crispin, and in a creative sense, The Empress is all about having the ability to take creative ideas and bring them to fruition—and not only that, it’s all about being able to work on many different projects at once, successfully! So, that’s excellent news. Guess I can continue working on my novel, mini-zines, and Substack and still manage the [redacted] in April.
There is one project I’ve decided to…well, not give up on, just approach differently. I’ve decided not to pitch my book idea about [redacted] to [redacted]. I talked to a friend who has published in the [redacted] series, and… For one thing, they no longer offer advances, so even if they did accept the pitch, I’d have to bust my ass for six months to write it and not see a dime until it was published—which could be two years from now! And for another thing, based on what he said, I don’t think I’d have enough creative freedom with it. So I’m still going to write something about [redacted] eventually, but I think I’m going to self-publish it in zine form or as installments on my Substack (or both). Basically, I have such limited time these days, and so many projects I’m already working on, that I’m not going to take on another one unless it pays incredibly well (and fast) and/or I’m super passionate it about it. So I don’t want to start on a project that I wouldn’t see any money from for years and that I wouldn’t get to write the way I want.
Funny side note: The last time The Empress was coming up for me a lot was in early 2017. And yes, that year was incredibly fertile, in a creative sense. I did write like hell, and resist despair. But it was also the year I got pregnant with and gave birth to C. Thankfully, since P. had a vasectomy, I know that this time it means only the creative sort of fertility.
I made coconut curried salmon for dinner tonight, and it was awesome. Now I’m in bed, drinking a lil’ Jamo with ginger ale and lime, about to watch a movie, and crossing my fingers that I don’t come down with the yuck.
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