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rogersideup · 11 months ago

Note

I'd like to drop a prompt:

The avengers have a night off in Las Vegas after a mission. Thor makes sure Cap has his fair share of Asgardian liquor so Steve ends up drunk and wanders off alone. He meets our dear reader who just got dumped by her friend group and is equally drunk. They hit it off and decide to get married. The next morning both of them are confused but decide to make it work as memories of the night before come back to them. (Surprise surprise dear reader is from New York too)

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Steve Rogers X Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Steve gets himself into some trouble while having a night off in the city of sin.

Word Count: 4,717

Warning: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

"Miss?"

Flashing lights separated and splayed through the drying tears in your watery eyes, music and ringing from hundreds of slot machines overstimulated your senses as you simultaneously pulled your dress up and down in different places.

"Excuse me miss? Can I get you something to drink?"

Coming back to your senses, you turned around to face the bartender. "Yeah, uh..." really, you tried your hardest to think of something, literally anything to help move along the buzz you were already riding but no proper words made it to your brain. "Sorry. I'm not sure what I want. Can you just make it strong and fruity?"

"Sure thing." The bartender agreed, already grabbing bottles off the shelf.

Watching him masterfully work helped you zone out and relieved all of your overwhelmed senses. Pouring, shaking, more pouring, a garnish, then a fruity elixir of a bunch of liquids you most definitely could not pronounce was placed right in front of you atop a cocktail napkin. Not a single drop was spilled, even the ice was perfect.

Reaching into your purse, you handed the bartender your card and shouted to try and compete with the volume of drunken gamblers and rolling dice. "You can close the tab."

"Don't worry about it. This one's on the house, you look like you need it." He kindly denied your form of payment.

You chuckled to yourself. "That bad, huh?"

"No, but I know a sad chick when I see one." He noted. "Happens pretty often in Vegas."

"Well, thank you, I appreciate it." You raised the glass. "Cheers to you and all the bartenders making the world go round."

"Amen to that" He smiled before walking off to serve yet another drunken customer.

You sat at the bar on a little leather stool fully contemplating how you ended up in this situation as you looked out into the hotel casino and nursed your drink. It didn't take long for you to realize that the Vegas bartenders didn't take the word strong as a joke. Because every sip stung your throat and swirled your thoughts around in slow motion.

The speed at which your thoughts came at you didn't help the fact that every single one of them revolved around nothing but yourself.

What were you going to do now? Where should you go from here?

Drinking wasn't the answer, but not drinking wasn't the solution. Finding shelter in the Caesars Palace hotel was a good enough temporary fix to your problems, so you ignored that you were on the complete opposite side of the Las Vegas strip that you actually needed to be on.

However, getting to your hotel on the complete opposite side was the problem. Your shitty friends completely ditched you, or maybe you ditched them. The details were all so unclear, but the fact was they were all making stupid choices and you couldn't stand to stick around long enough to see the end results of them.

But now you were all done up in high heels and a small little dress in a city you had never been in before, notorious for sex, drugs and alcohol. Luckily, pepper spray in your purse and a back pocket full of self defense techniques that have been drilled into your head ever since you were a little girl were amongst some of the better choices you made tonight.

Then came along all of the dumber choices you would make tonight in the form of yet another fruity drink, and a tall, blonde man looking painfully confused at the roulette table right in front of you.

He was tall and broad, even more handsome than the massive statues of Roman men all around the hotel. But much like the statues around you, he looked like he was carved from marble. The muscles you could see sculpted through his suit jacket could've only been a result of a piece of fine art.

It was easy to pick up his wholesome sweetness behind his big blue eyes, that also did a lot to tell you how drunk the man was. He towered over the table and watched a few rounds, trying his hardest to understand what was happening. Much like him, you watched the ball spin round and round before landing in a slot.

Some of the players would moan and groan at their fate, while others would cheer happily and exchange loud laughter and high-fives.

Mesmerized by the game, you missed the glances the blonde man snuck of you. He really couldn't help it though. His friends had left him all alone while his capacity to make good decisions was at an all time low, and you were just so pretty and maybe a bit sad.

Another round was about to start, so the dealer started taking bets. Everyone around the table started placing their chips on a color and number, and the blonde was still confused.

He looked around again before his eyes met yours, and a stupid invasive smile smeared across your lips. When he noticed your friendly demeanor, he took a few stumbles over to you.

"Do you have any idea how to play this?" The man asked you.

Now you could smell the expensive yet deliciously pleasant cologne he was wearing, and you could take in all the details of his black suit.

Giggling at his cluelessness, you swallowed down the sip of cocktail in your mouth. "I do. Would you like some help?"

"I'm assuming you have to guess if the ball lands on red or black?" He asked as his lopsided smile and squinted eyes told you everything you needed to know about his sobriety... or lack there of.

"That's exactly it, good job." You nodded. "But you can also guess the number, or a group of numbers it'll land on. The payout at the end is based on how accurate your bet is."

"So what should I bet?" He asked you, having already built a strong sense of trust for you in the few minutes he had been observing.

"Oh no, that's not up to me." You shook your head before taking another sip of your drink. "You gotta trust your own gut."

The man's eyes darted around the table once more before his arms motioned to it. "But look around! All of these men have pretty girls telling them what to do, and that's why they're all winning money. You guys are so much smarter than us, and I'm alone so I need you to tell me. Red or black."

Usually, a statement like that from a man like him would have you rolling your eyes and cutting the conversation short. However, either your gut or the alcohol was telling you that he wasn't an asshole.

For some reason, you felt calm and comfortable in his presence all while being unable to wipe the dumb smile off your face. Something about his hair that was once perfectly styled now being a little jostled, and the twinge of pink in his cheeks made him seem so distantly familiar.

"Well thank you for that backhanded compliment." You laughed. "I think you should bet red."

He nodded, trusting your opinion far more than he trusted himself. "Should I place a more specific bet too?"

You thought for a moment, but you were in Vegas so... fuck it. "Yeah. Give me your chip"

The man happily placed the roulette chip into your hand, you stood up in one big sweep and started walking away from the bar. "Woah, don't leave your drink!"

Pleasantly surprised that he had your best interest in mind, you mumbled out a statement of gratitude as he handed the glass to you too. Approaching the table, looked at it for a few moments and tried your hardest to contemplate the best number to place a bet on, but once again no rational thoughts occupied the empty spaces of your brain.

So, you threw the chip on your favorite number, lucky 25.

"There ya go!" You used your free hand to pat the man's shoulder. "Good luck, Blondie."

"What happens if I win?" He asked you, smiling as you let your hand linger. Even with your highest heels on, you were nowhere near as tall as him.

"Then it's your lucky day, and you'll get a shit ton of money." You giggled at his question.

"And if I lose?"

"Then you're unlucky and you're about to lose some money." You snorted.

"That's not going to happen, you're my good luck charm." He declared.

"I don't think anything about my night tonight is radiating lucky energy, so I doubt that."

"What? No way! I feel like I've been the luckiest guy in the whole world today, so maybe I'm your good luck charm."

"I guess we will let the roulette wheel speak the truth of the universe tonight." You shrugged.

"Should we place our own bets on the bet?" The man asked.

"Like what?" You questioned, hoping this wasn't the moment the sweet stranger turned weird and pervy.

"I think if I lose I should probably call it a night and go back to my room because this is the drunkest I've been in probably 80 years." He stated. However, his words flew over your head figuring his drunken words were exaggerated, and you found yourself to be a little sad that your time with the stranger would be cut short so soon.

"I think if you win, you should stay out for a little while and have another drink with me." You smiled, going way out of your own comfort zone.

If you were sober, or maybe even drunk in a bar anywhere other than Las Vegas, you would've been caught dead before being caught to be so bold. But he was pulling you in faster than you've ever felt, and something about him felt so natural and warm.

"Deal." He agreed.

"Look, they're about to spin the wheel." You pointed at the table.

The dealer spun the wheel, and the ball was moving so fast that you could barely even follow it. Even as it slowed down and started to tease each individual slot, the motion of following the sphere going round and round was quite honestly making you a bit dizzy, so you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation.

"No way." The blonde stated. "No fucking way!"

His arm wrapped around you from behind and his big warm hands very gently shook the tops of your arms. "Look! It's on red! I can't see the number, but it's on red!"

You giggled and tried your best to keep your balance as he shook you around. When you opened your eyes you could see that the drink in your hand was sloshing around and spilling over onto the impeccably maintained carpet beneath your feet. But the loss of some of your drink was a small price to pay when the dealer picked the ball up out of the wheel and announced "25 Red!"

Simultaneously, you and Blondie let out little screeches in surprise and joy when you realized you had actually placed a winning bet. In all your years on this planet, nothing like this had ever happened to you. You never even won $5 on a penny slot, let alone a fat wad of cash that was being placed into the man's hands.

After the cheering celebration and laughter died down, he turned to you. "See! I knew you were lucky!"

"You trusted your intuition, and you won!" You noted with a smile so big and long lasting it was starting to make your cheeks sore. "Good job."

"Here! This is yours." He placed the wad of cash in your hands.

"What? No. You bet your own money, it's yours." Not being able to accept it, especially when you saw it was all $100 bills.

"No it's yours! You placed the winning bet, you knew the magic number so I want you to have it." He explained kindly. "You said nothing about your night was lucky, so consider this your sign from the universe."

"I can't just accept all of this money from a complete stranger." You denied once more. "You're very sweet, I would feel so guilty taking this from you."

"Fine, if you can't accept the money for yourself, how about we go spend it together?" He offered. "I owe you another drink anyways, then after that the Las Vegas strip is our oyster!"

"That's a little better" You agreed with a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't even get your name."

"O-oh!" The man seemed to be taken back by that statement for a second. A look of momentary confusion furrowed his eyebrows before a happy smile returned to his kind face. "Sorry, I'm Steve!"

You made a small mental note of his initial shock that you asked for his name, but your drunken brain didn't hold onto that for very long.

"Alright Steve, here's the plan." You rocked up on your tippy toes and kept yourself braced with a steady hand on his solid shoulder so he could hear you better in the loud and chaotic environment. "Half my drink just ended up on the floor when you won, so I'm going to order another one. Then after that, I somehow need to end the night at my hotel on the complete opposite end of the strip without getting taken or murdered. So if we can somehow make it from here to there while blowing through that money you just won, then I'd be more than happy to help you spend it."

Steve's eyes went wide in concern at your statement. "Where are you staying?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "My gut is telling me not to tell a strange man where I'm staying."

"Smart girl, but I'm not letting you walk down the strip alone at night. The people here are crazy." He challenged. "No funny business. Pinky promise."

Steve raised his pinky for you with a genuine look of promise and concern on his face. "Do people often trust you to get them to safety?"

His cheeks turned pinker, and he let out an adorable giggle. "Yeah, I think most people find me to be very trustworthy."

"No funny business." You lifted your hand and wrapped your pinky around his with a quick handshake. "I'm staying at New York, New York."

"Oh wow, we have a long way to go with lots of chances to blow through that stack." He smiled. "What are you drinking? I'll order you another one."

"Honestly, I have no idea." You admitted, smile coming back to your face.

"Okay great! That helps me a lot" The blonde laughed.

"Excuse me" You politely flagged down the bartender. The same one from earlier coming back, you showed him your glass. "Can I get another one of these please? And whatever he wants?"

You looked to Steve who looked between you and the bartender. "Just two waters please."

"Sure thing." The bartender agreed.

"What? You're not going to have a drink?" You questioned.

He pulled a copper flask out of the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. "I'll drink more, but this is stronger."

"Oh, nothing here is strong enough for you?" You raised a brow, your smile growing just as lopsided as his.

"Nope. This stuff is special, it comes straight from another realm."

Laughing at his joke, as you handed the bartender cash straight from the wad Steve gave you. "That's funny, because I hope this is strong enough to make me feel like I'm no longer in this realm, so cheers to that!"

You and Steve sat at that bar for a solid two hours as conversation topics flew at the two of you unexpectedly fast. Each one new topic was short lived as an enthusiastic response would happily slip off one of your tongues, so excited that the two of you had so much in common.

Then, Steve decided to start the shopping spree. He offered you a hand to help you off the stool, which quickly turned into a protective arm around you, or ushering you the entirety of your time together. He knew that the men on the Vegas strip were pigs, but he underestimated how bad it really was.

But the cat calls, whistles, and lingering eyes were drowned out by the city sounds and the big flashing marquee lights that littered the sides of every building you passed. It was just as mesmerizing as the night before, skipping down the streets in a drunken haze with your best friends.

Now you were mesmerized by not only sin city, but the mysterious man you were following around as if you'd known him your whole life.

With a sense of childlike wonder the two of you ended up in silly places like the M&M's store, and the Coca-Cola store, but you also ventured into more classy designer establishments where you convinced him to buy a lovely new belt at Louis Vuitton.

It looked good, he looked good. You had to work really hard to contain the drool in your mouth as you watched him take off his old belt to replace it with the new one.

He tried to buy you a new bag, but once again you were being stubborn and were having a hard time accepting such a generous offer.

So, you suggested another drink. Just one more.

More sitting and chatting with Steve, you swallowed down the liquid in your cup while he shot the rest of the liquid in his flask.

That last drink was the worst of your poor decision making that night, or so you thought.

Because the last memory you had was sitting at that bar and really admiring him.

The alcohol had turned his cheeks and the tip of his nose a rosy pink color that somehow made his blue eyes shine even brighter, and add to the wholesome energy you felt radiating from him.

Sweet, silly, carefree, handsome, safe.

Then, you woke up.

Slowly at first. Your eyes opened and the dull pounding at the back of your skull wasn't nearly at bad as you deserved. The air conditioning did wonders keeping you comfortable, the light peaked through the black out curtains, and your belongings scattered across the room confirmed that you were definitely in the right place.

You looked around more. M&m's bag, Louis Vuitton bag... Converse bag? You didn't remember buying shoes. Wait... how did you get here?

Only then did you wake up FAST. You sat up, and your heart pounded as you realized that Blondie was in your bed. The sudden movement made your head pound even harder, but the good news was that he was fully clothed and was sleeping above the covers.

You were also asleep and fully clothed, but both of you were in different clothes than you had on last night. That's probably what those shopping bags in the corner were...

Carefully rolling out of bed to try and make yourself somewhat presentable and aid along trying to process what happened last night, you walked into the bathroom.

Wash your face, brush your teeth, fix your hair.

By the time you came out, Blondie was sitting up in bed with his legs on the floor, shooting you an apologetic look. He was apprehensive, scared to gauge how sick and unenthusiastic you would be by his presence this morning.

"Good morning." He said quietly, voice deep and raspy from inhaling the dry air and residual cigarette smoke.

"Morning." You tried to be polite, clutching the side of your head. "What happened? How did we- how did any of this-"

"Nothing happened." Steve reassured you. "I would never take advantage-"

"Okay, okay." You nodded slowly, feeling slightly relieved. "Advil. I have Advil."

Waking over to the table in the hotel room, you grabbed the bottle of painkillers and a water. You opened both and popped two little pills in your mouth, washing them down with water.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember much either. It's been a really long time since I've gotten drunk. This is really out of the ordinary for me." He explained.

"I guess we're on the same boat then." You agreed with him before a couple pieces of paper catch your eye.

"I guess I should probably go?" Steve stated, but it was more of a question. This was the first time he ever found himself waking up next to a stranger.

"No, you stay right there." You insisted frantically, picking up the piece of paper.

Certificate of marriage.

Your name signed at the bottom next to another signature that read Steven G Rogers.

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

You studied the signature, looked at his face, looked at the signature, then his face again.

In the table, there was a picture of the two of you kissing. Him in his suit, you in the dress you wore last night but also a veil.

"Oh my god" You exclaimed, so much information to process.

"What?" Steve questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Oh my god!" You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath.

"What happened?"

"You didn't tell me..." You puffed out a breath, then an unexpected giggle left your throat. Of course, this would happen to you the one time in your life you didn't behave like a perfect angel. "Captain America?"

"Oh... Guilty?" Steve's shoulders sunk. "I introduced myself, no?"

"As Steve." You exaggerated.

"Yeah, I'm Steve." He agreed.

"Well, at least I was safe." Finding the benefit of the doubt. "Do you remember getting married last night, Steve?"

You passed the paper and the picture to him, and his face contorted into an expression you couldn't quite read. "...wow."

"Wow?" You questioned. "I unknowingly married Captain America last night and all you have for me is wow?"

"Holy shit." Steve looked up at you.

"That's better." You nodded.

"You don't look panicked" Steve noted.

"I'm not panicked because at least you're a superhero." You explained. "That counts for something right? Like people won't think I'm totally inane for marrying a stranger when they find out it's Captain America? And like... a superhero means you have people who come and clean up after you right? Someone can fix this right?"

You watched the gears turn in his head. "... I have to call Tony."

Tony. Who's Tony? Think. Superhero, avengers, Steve, Captain America. Tony... IRON MAN.

"Stark?" Your eyebrows raised. Steve nodded, pulling out his phone. "Now I'm freaking out. I'm really freaking out."

"It's okay, give me a second." Steve said calmly.

You nodded, the remembered you should check your phone too. As he spoke quietly to Tony, you looked around for your phone before finding it on the night stand, flooded with dozens of missed calls and texts from friends wondering where you were. You quickly sent off a text in a group chat saying you'd explain later, and that you were okay.

Eventually Steve ended the call. "He said he'll be here in a minute or two."

"Oh, okay great." You said exaggerating your nonchalance. "No biggie. Iron man coming over to read my marriage certificate to Captain America."

Steve giggled at the ridiculousness of the situation. "My mother would be over the moon to find out I'm married."

"My mom might have me 6 feet in a grave if she ever finds out about this." You sat back down on the bed next to him.

"When do you leave Vegas?" Steve questioned.

"My flight is at nine tonight. What about you?"

"Flying home at six thirty." He informed you. "Where do you live?"

"New York" You said simply. "Queens."

"We both live in New York and we’re staying in a New York themed hotel? What a small world." Steve noted. "Maybe we don't have to fit in a divorce before this evening."

"I mean... you are very handsome so I definitely wouldn't mind staying married to you for a few days until we get this figured out." You grinned.

A small blush stippled his cheeks at your compliment. “You’re so pretty I would’ve never had the courage to talk to you if I wasn’t drunk.”

Just like him, you blushed at his admission, and giggled at his words. “This doesn’t feel like real life.”

“Maybe I should’ve gotten you a ring instead of whatever the hell we bought last night.” Steve thought.

You looked down at your left hand, and sure enough, there was a pretty ring on your finger. You lifted it up to show him. “Looks like you were two steps ahead of yourself”

“Oh, good.” He chuckled. “At least there’s that.”

Then, there was a knock at the door.

You looked at Steve with wide eyes and nervousness building up in your tummy at the thought of being in the same room with one third of the Avengers.

“I’ll get it” He reassured you, standing up to answer the door.

Before you knew it, Tony Stark confidently barreled into the room. Firing some teasing words at Steve, you knew the poor guy would never hear the end of it.

“Oh look, here she is!” Tony announced.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Stark.” You shook his hand.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine Mrs. Rogers.” He smiled.

“Tony” Steve warned with a glare.

“Where’s the paper work?” Tony asked.

You quickly handed him the picture and the signed document that was on the table. Steve stood right next to you as you both watched him read over it, and evaluate the legitimacy.

Tony took out his phone snapped a few pictures, and made a weird face. Nervously, you his your face in Steve’s arm and he instinctively rubbed your back to comfort you.

Then, Tony started laughing. “Rogers you’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware, but what’s so funny?” Steve complained.

“It’s fake.” Tony said.

“What?” Your head popped up.

“Little white chapel, married by Elvis just for the gag type of thing. There’s no marriage license, it’s not a legal marriage.” He explained, handing you the papers back.

Both you and Steve let out a huge sigh of relief. “Maybe I’m not that much of an idiot after all.”

“No, you’re still stupid.” Tony denied. “Out of all the people in the world I would’ve never expected this from you, Cap.”

“This is Thor’s fault.” Steve pointed his finger.

You didn’t understand how the god of thunder had anything to do with this, but you had no mental capacity left to even ask.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. Just be on time for the flight home and stay out of trouble.” Tony told him. “Hope to see you around again soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

And just like that, he was out faster than he came in.

“I know Tony made it seem like everything is okay, but it’s not and I have a giant mess to clean up with the team.” Steve explained to you.

“Yeah, I’d assume so.” You smiled.

“Which means I really should go.” He let you down. “But regardless of this fiasco, and from what I do remember, I had a lot of fun with you last night. Would you want to exchange phone numbers and maybe hang out again when we get home?”

“I would love that, Steve.” You agreed.

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours. Both putting in your phone numbers and names before swapping them back.

At the same time, you both burst out laughing at the contact names.

Unplanned, he put his name as Husband, and you put yours as Wife.

“Ridiculous!” You laughed, walking him to the door.

“Maybe we really were meant to be.” Steve pondered.

“Maybe.” You agreed. “But in all seriousness, thank you for getting me home safe last night. I was really lucky to run into the right person at the right time.”

“Of course.” Steve grinned. “Travel safe, and let me know when you get home so we can set something up.”

“You got it.” Rocking up on your tippy toes, you kissed his cheek. “Have fun cleaning up that mess, Husband.”

“Don’t tell your Mom about this, Wife.”

You locked your lips and threw away the key. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

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screamsilas · 7 months ago

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@ii-neg-confessions is really stupid

IMPORTANT UPDATE!; @II-NEG-CONFESSIONS IS BANNED (on tumblr)!! ALL CAN REJOICE!!!!!

@ii-neg-confessions is kind of what it sounds like, a blog about inanimate insanity to spread hate and negativity and I feel like people shouldn't be so open to absorbing hate all the time

I wrote a better worded version on my phone but the drafts thing apparently doesn't work so take this kind of lazy one instead cause I don't really wanna spend any more of my time on this earth trashing an admin on a confessions blog who most should know is just a negative nancy hater who needs to get off they damn phone

time to "see through the bullshit" and "simply call out this bullshit" instead of "mindlessly consuming slop and following the herd"! /quoting their blog

also if you are gonna say "ohh don't give them them attention that's what they want" hold that thought cause this post isn't FOR them, its to educate ABOUT them and show people they're stupid. Its your choice if you wanna block them. Also, this is my space to criticize whatever I want, block whoever I want, etc. so I'm gonna post this rant here and let people act under their discretion.

anyways more under the cut

update on 12/09/24; rephrased/added context to some stuff in the Adam Katz segment.

update on 12/09/24; added a funny thing at the very end of the post.

update on 12/10/24; removed Adam Katz segment for correcting and editing.

[removed temporarily]

This is one of those things that when I read it I audibly said " are you fucking serious" cause truthfully I don't think they are being serious here.

To make fun of people that are POSITIVE? you actually must be absolutely MISERABLE to make a whole word to try and describe people who are positive in a negative light. I don't have much else to say here other than they must be genuinely sad with their life to do this.

small bomb break just to preface something

I'm not gonna go into their blog and criticize every word they have ever said, because I simply don't want to, but feel free to add onto this in the comments or re-blogs, cause I think its important to acknowledge this person and see them for who they are... and act accordingly of course.

anywayyy...

death threats (I'm gonna talk about that)

I've seen a lot of the OSC unanimously say that Mil has sent death threats to the II crew which I believe is true considering their overwhelmingly negative behavior and opinions towards most people who like ii/the crew themselves. I wanna of course start by saying that (as obvious as it should be) DEATH THREATS ARE NEVER OKAY! In some places in the world, even online they can be ILLEGAL!!! Its never okay to tell someone that you are gonna kill them, or that they should kill themselves, no matter how bad you think their YouTube show is, or how true you think your preconceived notions about peoples life or political stances are, death threats of any sort? NEVER OKAY! The fact that they went out of their way and spent that time (and most of their time) blatantly hating on this thing that was never about or for them is really disgusting.

Some more stuff I wanna say (in bullet point form!)

I never will say that I don't think its okay to have negative opinions or state said opinions, but from what I can see from this entire blog, its more than that. Its more than sharing criticism, its spreading hate about something a lot of people hold dear to them for no other reason then the fact that you hold hate in your heart

I'm pretty aware that Mil has some issues, whether that be relationship, familial... its none of my business. If she's reading this, just know there are people who can help, help is always available to you.

for a blog that's all for "seeing the truth" you really love to delete everything you don't agree with (even if its negative)

using art and not taking it down even after asked to is really rude, everyone should know that.. well except for Mil, who still has the post up

people calling everything that is appealing to the audience "fanservice" is so stupid is that the only word you know? do you only know how to use buzzer words to catch your audience instead of giving genuine points?

I was gonna say some more but I got distracted, and also I'm already sick of their shit so

okay bye bye!

p.s. ; a hefty handful of screenshots I didn't wanna write a whole paragraph saying they're shit to

this one is just sad to read like who hurt you

blatantly threatening a hack against AE's channel (also illegal)

shit like this makes me believe that this account is ragebait

more "posies" talk (makes me giggle)

looking pretty defensive to me (definitely a dream stan)

self indulgent insert but uh maybe its cause cobs is in the show hmm idk maybe though

death threats arent okay even if mil sent them to others (it will only repeat the cycle)

this is just funny to me, the ii crew has gone back and deleted scenes that aren't good, they have said they were young at the time and they are growing and changing people and apologized for what they did, what else do you want? do you want them to beg for forgiveness at your shoes?? you're fucking weird.

""digital footprint" isn't real" says a lot

what do you mean?? they're hating WITH YOU!!!! just because they can see good in the show doesn't mean they're corny! full post here

maybe because the songs are... musical inspired... maybe you just hate fun... (they literally say they do what am I talking about)

hating for no reason again (and ignoring everything anon said except for the thing that caught their eye; hatred)

okay I'm done, Mil is exhausting, @ii-neg-confessions is exhausting, I'm forever a "posie" I guess

if you read this far also... hi! thank you for reading all of this and educating yourself! remember that despite their hatred, there's still lots of love and care in this world and you deserve the most of it! please get some water and a snack, and have a wonderful day!! <3

okay that's my rant bye

p.s.

stop following me, mil

#inanimate insanity #ii #object show community #osc #object shows #osc community #osc discourse #discorse #ii confessions #ii neg #ii negativity #animationepic neg #inanimate insanity negativity #inanimate insanity neg #posie tears #posie #info

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moonlight-prose · 10 months ago

Note

hi! just watched someone like you last night & i saw your requests were open for eddie 😫

either:

1. "did you just wash these sheets?" "i did." "they smell nice. and they're still warm."

2. "we should really get up." "we should....but we won't."

whichever you like better!! they both screammm eddie to me

love is here to stay

a/n: what i wouldn't give to cuddle with this man in the mornings. possibly making him late for work as other things ensue. and i've always tied jazz songs to movies from the early 2000s and 90s. so this is based off the ella fitzgerald & louis armstrong song. i fear i'm down bad for this man and would love to have him be my boyfriend.

summary: mornings where the summer heat was unbearable and energy was nowhere to be founr, made getting up a difficult task. add a sleepy eddie and a multitude of kisses and suddenly it became near impossible.

word count: 1k

pairing: eddie alden x reader

warnings: semi-explicit so 18+ ONLY!!, summer heat eviserating anything fun, banter, eddie being a fucking tease, sweat, he calls the pussy her, comfy loving scenario.

New York City roared to life on the other side of your apartment wall. Chatter of people shouting, horns of taxis already stuck in morning traffic. Not even your shut and locked window could block each noise that came through. It was a place that demanded to be heard the second the sun rose up in the dark blue sky.

You mumbled something unintelligible, hand reaching for the covers that were no doubt kicked to the bottom of the bed. Halfway through the night the air shut off—effectively making your place a hellscape with no chance of avoidance.

What began as a night filled with naked skin and fast bitten thrusts, turned to the both of you sleeping as far away as humanly possible. You were almost certain if you opened your eyes you'd find Eddie at the edge of the mattress—his body covered in a sheen of sweat. Matching you completely.

"Mm," he groaned into his pillow, flipping over to his side, an arm flinging around your bare waist. "You move too much."

"Shut up," you muttered.

You could feel the tendrils of a somewhat breeze filter in through the living room where you'd left the fire escape window open. Neither of you bothered to shut it after the glass of wine and shared cigarette turned to stripping him of his shirt and you of your pants. It felt like a miracle you made it to the bedroom at all—his body collapsing atop yours with a pained groan; hands grasping for any piece of plushness he could find.

"Make me." Even in sleep he managed to grin like a tease. His eyes shut and hand shifting to cup your bare ass. "Feels like you want to," he sighed around a half yawn.

You shuffled closer, cheek pressed to his chest. "Feels like the fuckin' world is on fire."

He tapped your ass. "That it is baby."

What little energy you could gather was bled from your body the longer you lay there. Summer eviscerated any means of joy in your life. What could you do? Hiding inside was all you had left in order to escape the heat. Now even that left you withering against his torso—body slick with sweat that would only return moments after you washed it off.

"Eddie," you yawned, throwing your arm over his stomach. He offered a grunt; the heat now muddling his brain and cutting off his ability to form words. "You work today?"

His arm raised above his head, onto the pillows beneath him. (Pillows he stole in the middle of the night.)

"I could," he sighed. "Got lots to do at work."

"Ah. I forgot. Big time hot shot."

The audible smack of his hand landing harder on your ass made you laugh; your leg kicking out to deter his attacks. He couldn't help it. Toying with your flesh was the highlight of his mornings. His eyes creeped open, lips tugging into a lazy grin that screamed drowsiness. Only to watch as he jiggled your flesh—fingers kneading at you like a fucking cat who just found the softest pillow in the world.

"Unless you intend to fuck me stupid Alden. I'd stop that."

His head fell back with a raspy groan. "Got no energy to fuck you stupid baby." You glanced at him, chin resting on his chest. "How about I just fuck ya? Huh?"

"Stupid or no deal," you mumbled.

"My cock is gonna be begging for you all day."

"Too bad." You smiled, pressing a kiss to the hair that nestled in between his pecs. "Shoulda thought of that before you didn't call the super to fix the fuckin' air."

His sigh was wistful—-relenting. "Yeah I know. I'll call 'em today."

The city took over your conversation when silence began to filter in between the cracks of your haven. In this small bedroom, you were safe. Content even as the warmth of your lover began to stick to your skin and cause discomfort. Moving wasn't an option. Nor was taking a cold shower.

So you remained there, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath.

"We should really get up," he muttered, head turning to face the window.

The sun came through your sheer curtains, casting a shadow along the hardwood floor. You marveled at how picturesque it was—how heavenly.

"We should..." You placed another kiss against his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat along your tongue. He groaned, his eyes meeting yours. "But we won't."

"Baby," he breathed.

Your eyes narrowed. "Don't even think about it Eddie."

"C'mon!" he laughed. "Lemme eat your pussy. I'll be really nice to her."

"Fuck off. 'S too hot." You buried your face into his skin, biting back the peal of laughter he could tell lay on the tip of your tongue.

"All I'm saying is she's never not liked my tongue down there."

The loud smack you land to his stomach causes a howl of laughter to erupt from his chest. His body rolling over to trap you beneath him—pressing you down into the mattress as he bit at your neck. Another echo of the city poured in through the open door, cracking through the bubble you both resided in. But the feel of Eddie trailing kisses down your stomach killed every sound that didn't belong to him.

"Too hot my ass," he mumbled along your hip bone, teeth scraping the skin hard enough to draw a moan from your lips. "It's never too hot to have something sweet, baby."

You smiled, curling your fingers into his hair. "I hate you."

"You love me," he retorted, drawing your thighs up and over his shoulders. "Admit it."

When he looked at you like this: eyes bright enough to put even the sun to shame. How could you say anything but yes?

#what i wouldn't give to live in this scenario with him #the unbearable weather totally didn't inspire this #eddie alden x reader #eddie alden x you #eddie alden x y/n #eddie alden #my writing #hugh jackman

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spiderb00 · 6 months ago

Text

BUY ME PRESENTS

Manon Bannerman X Reader

“You tried everything, expensive gift, nice outings... But Manon just wanted you to be with her foverer”

Genre – fluff, angst? If you squint Warnings – none fruitcake masterlist

Now playing – buy me presents, by Sabrina Carpenter

The bright lights of the house kept you excited for the rest of the night, everyone's conversations were like background noise, and having Manon by your side made you feel on top of the world. You were invited by Manon to spend Christmas at the Kats' house, the girls would have a small party on the 24th and you would spend the night there to exchange gifts on Christmas morning. The whole atmosphere of the place was cozy, and you were more than happy to share this moment with Manon.

You talked to everyone, meeting the girls' friends and spreading kindness here and there. Just now, you were talking to some of Manon's friends, while the brunette was sitting comfortably on your lap. The night was amazing, and you thought nothing could go wrong, you were wrong.

"So, how long have you been together?" One of Manon's friends asked, making you swallow hard, and before Manon could answer, the words had already slipped out of your mouth.

"Oh, no. We're just hanging out, I mean, we're getting to know each other first." Oh man, how you wish you'd kept quiet.

Manon's friends nodded, but you could clearly see the judgmental looks in your direction. You should imagine that Manon had said something to them, that was a trap, a single question would define whether you were taking it seriously or just playing with Manon's feelings.

"I'll get another drink." Manon said, quickly getting up from your lap, and going in a direction that was certainly not the kitchen.

"Excuse me, sorry guys, I'm going to the bathroom." You said, standing up and following Manon, after losing sight of her.

Your relationship with Manon was complicated, you liked the woman, but you were too scared to assume a relationship. Your last relationship was toxic and you came out of it with several scars. Without even realizing it, Manon had slowly healed each one of them, sewing your heart with so much love, that you couldn't run away anymore.

Walking down the hallway, you slightly opened the door to the room that Manon shared with Daniela, watching the girl come out of the bathroom with slightly swollen eyes, while trying not to let the tears stain her makeup. When Manon saw you, her brows furrowed, and just by that expression, you knew she was pissed.

"Why are you here? We're nothing, you didn't need to come see if I was okay." Manon said, trying to get past you, who was blocking the door.

"Baby, I-"

"Don't call me that, we're nothing, right?!" Manon said, laughing sarcastically.

Sighing, you entered the room, closing and leaning your back against the door. You hated to see Manon like that. Whenever you did or said something stupid, you would always have a gift nearby, just to make the brunette forgive you and forget every time you were an asshole. But this time, it seems that this was not going to work, you needed to do what you were avoiding from the beginning, talk to her.

"Manon, I'm sorry." You said, seeing the woman cross her arms and laugh sarcastically.

"Enough, Yn. It's always the same thing. You always say 'I'm sorry' and never change." Manon says, taking steps closer to you. "You don't know how lucky you were with me. Do you think we're going to stay in this forever? Oh dear, you were wrong."

Swallowing hard at the approach of Manon. You couldn't say anything, when the brunette raised her hand and started stroking your hair, leaving you confused by the sudden display of affection. Manon tilted her head slightly, looking between your eyes and your mouth, getting very close to you, standing on tiptoe, to whisper in the right side of your ear.

"If you were smart, you'd drop all these whores and put me on top, because if you really want to be with me, you'd better treat me like I deserve to be treated, Yn." Moving away from your ear, Manon looked into your eyes, and you could tell she was full of all that game you were playing with her.

"You can't imagine how many people are dying to treat me like the star I am. So say honey, are you going to be a good girl, or are we ending up here?"

It was as if a light bulb had gone off in your head. Manon was the most perfect woman that had ever passed through your life, and after all the words she said, everything in your brain fell into place. You were afraid, but not afraid of relationships and labels, you were afraid of missing out on the best thing that ever happened in your life.

In an unusual desperation, you glued your lips to Manon's, in a desperate and passionate kiss. Feelings being unblocked within you and the butterflies that you didn't feel a long time ago, now made a very joyful feast in your stomach. Manon's lips were soft, and you swore you wanted to kiss only them for the rest of your life. While your hands explored the body of the shorter woman, the brunette had tangled her hands in your hair, making a noticeable mess.

"Please stay with me. Sorry for being an idiot, I promise I'll never do that again, just please stay with me." You say, leaning your forehead against Manon's.

"Stay with me?" Manon said, slightly moving your foreheads away from the two to look at you.

"Are you dating me? Please Manon, be mine." You said, looking into the brunette's eyes with a hint of desperation, which made Manon chuggle.

"I'm yours, I've always been." Manon said, kissing you once more. Her lips took a while, before she pulled away completely, taking your hand in hers, and giving you a little smile.

"Now lay in bed, you were a very bad girl earlier."

The second story of Fruitcake is out, I'm going to update some requests and race against time. Stay safe guys,

xoxo, spider.

#katseye imagines #katseye x reader #kpop gg #manon x reader #manon katseye x reader #manon bannerman x reader #sophia laforteza x reader #kpop fluff #daniela avanzini x reader #lara raj x reader

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spiderfangirl22 · 2 months ago

Text

Don’t Say That’s It’s Over I’d Kill To Be Closer: V (Yandere Tom Ludlow x Reader x Yandere John Wick)

Warnings: Yandere, Killing, Black Mail

The tension in the Continental suite was thick enough to cut with a knife. John watched Tom, his eyes like chips of flint, a silent promise of pain etched in their depths. He still hadn’t told Winston about Tom’s involvement, the kidnapping, the lies.

The information was a loaded gun, ready to be fired if Tom dared to step out of line.

"There is another way," Y/N had pleaded, and against his better judgement, he’d listened. He’d seen the desperation in her eyes, the genuine desire to avoid bloodshed.

And…he had to admit, something else resonated within him. A possessive instinct, a need to protect her, to keep her close, a feeling he thought long buried with Helen.

Later that night, after Y/N had fallen asleep, exhausted and emotionally drained, John cornered Tom in the dimly lit living room.

"We need to talk," John said, his voice a low growl.

Tom paled, sweat beading on his forehead. He knew what this was about. He knew he was living on borrowed time.

"Winston can never know about your part in this," John continued, his words like shards of ice. "He finds out you took his daughter, there won’t be a grave deep enough to hide you."

Tom nodded frantically. "I understand. Thank you…for not telling him."

"Gratitude is cheap," John said, stepping closer, invading Tom’s personal space. "You owe me something far more valuable than a thank you."

Tom swallowed hard. "What do you want?"

John paused, his gaze fixed on Tom, calculating, predatory.

He glanced at the closed bedroom door, the image of Y/N sleeping peacefully behind it searing into his mind.

He wanted her. He wanted her innocence, her kindness, her…everything. But he also saw the raw, desperate love in Tom’s eyes, a love that mirrored his own burgeoning obsession.

"We share her," John finally said, the words a barely audible rasp.

Tom recoiled as if struck. "Share her? What are you talking about?"

"You heard me," John said, his voice hardening. "You’re not the only one who cares for her, Ludlow. I won't let you hurt her, and so you will share her with me.

You can protect her and I can teach her. We both know what the world around us demands of those who cant protect themselves."

"This is insane!" Tom sputtered, his voice rising in panic. "She’s not an object to be shared!"

John grabbed Tom by the collar, pulling him close. "She’s precious, Tom, and you're as blind as you are stupid. Don't you realize how dangerous this world is? She needs you to protect her, and she needs you to teach her, and she needs me."

John tightened his grip, his knuckles white. "And don't forget, I could easily tell Winston your involvement the minute he asks. It will be an honor to watch you die."

Tom stared back, his eyes wide with fear and resignation. He knew that John meant every word. He was trapped, caught between a ruthless assassin and a powerful crime lord.

"Fine," Tom croaked, his voice defeated. "We share her. But if you ever hurt her…"

"I won't," John said, releasing Tom. "Neither will you. We're all she has."

The next morning, they prepared to meet Winston. Y/N was nervous, her hands clammy as she adjusted her dress. John watched her, his expression unreadable, while Tom hovered anxiously nearby.

They arrived at Winston's private residence, a luxurious townhouse a few blocks from the Continental. John led the way, his hand resting lightly on the small of Y/N's back, a subtle gesture of possessiveness that Tom couldn't miss.

Winston greeted them warmly, his eyes filled with relief as he embraced his daughter. "Y/N, my darling girl! I'm so glad you're safe."

Y/N hugged him tightly, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm okay, Papa. Thanks to John and Tom."

Winston turned to Tom, extending his hand. "Thank you, Officer Ludlow. You have my gratitude."

Tom shook Winston's hand, his face pale and drawn. He knew he was being scrutinized, his every move analyzed. And what made it worse was that the stupid fucking assassin, the vain of his entire existence, knows the truth and black-mailed him to share his Y/N his light with this monstrous assasin.

"Please, come in," Winston said, leading them into the living room. "Let's have a drink and talk."

As they settled into the comfortable surroundings, John noticed a small, black and green eyed kitten curled up on the hearth.

"Ah, that's Shadow," Winston said, noticing John's gaze. "Y/N has told me she found him abandoned a few weeks ago. She's quite taken with him."

Tom and John wick both knew the truth. Tom had gotten y/n , shadow to make her happy since kidnapping her and killing her friend. And if Y/N had told her father Tom had gotten shadow for her it would only raise more suspicion.

Y/N smiled, picking up Shadow and cradling her in her arms. "She’s such a sweetie."

As Y/N cooed over the kitten, John and Tom exchanged a furtive glance.

The uneasy truce between John and Tom hung in the air like a loaded weapon.

They agreed to share Y/N, a decision born from possessiveness and a desperate need to protect her, but unspoken beneath the surface was the constant threat of betrayal, of one overstepping the boundaries they’d so tentatively established.

The agreement, however, extended beyond merely “sharing” her; it included eliminating any potential threats to her affections.

That agreement was tested sooner than either of them expected.

Weeks turned into months, and Y/N, still blissfully unaware of the dark pact forged in her name, started to find herself inexplicably drawn to John.

He was a man of few words, but his presence was a comforting, solid weight in her life. She admired his quiet strength, the way he seemed to anticipate her needs before she even voiced them.

And, she couldn't deny, she found the ruggedness of his slightly longer facial hair incredibly attractive. It softened his lethal edges, making him seem…more human. Slightly more handsome than Tom, she admitted to herself with a blush.

Tom noticed the shift in her affections. The way her eyes lingered on John a fraction of a second longer than necessary, the subtle smiles she reserved for his quiet observations

A cold dread coiled in his stomach. He was losing her, and the thought was unbearable.

The first incident was subtle. A barista at a coffee shop, a young, eager man with a charming smile, had lingered a little too long when handing Y/N her latte. He’d even drawn a small heart in the foam. Y/N, oblivious, had simply thanked him and moved on.

But unfortunately John and Tom had seen it.

The barista was found dead the next day, an apparent mugging gone wrong. The police report mentioned no witnesses, no leads. Just another statistic in the city’s endless cycle of violence.

Y/N never made the connection. She simply mourned the loss of a friendly face, a small tragedy in a world already full of them.

The incidents escalated. A colleague at Y/N’s work, a man who’d dared to ask her out for drinks, mysteriously transferred to another department.

A neighbor who’d offered to help her carry groceries vanished without a trace. Each time, the reasons were different, the methods varied, but the result was the same: anyone who showed even the slightest romantic interest in Y/N disappeared.

John and Tom operated with a ruthless efficiency, a silent understanding between them.

They were two sides of the same coin, driven by the same obsessive desire. John, the seasoned assassin, provided the skill and precision, while Tom, with his connections within the police force, ensured that no investigations ever went too far.

Y/N, meanwhile, was falling deeper under John’s spell. She found herself seeking his company, drawn to the quiet intensity that simmered beneath his stoic exterior.

She started cooking his favorite meals, leaving little notes for him to find, subconsciously trying to bridge the gap between them.

One evening, as they sat in comfortable silence in her apartment, Y/N decided to be bold.

“John,” she said softly, breaking the quiet. “Can I ask you something?”

He looked up from his book, his eyes meeting hers with an unnerving intensity. “Of course.”

“Why are you so…protective of me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know I was kidnapped, but it feels like you’re always watching out for me, even when there’s no danger.”

John paused, his gaze unwavering. He couldn’t tell her the truth, not yet. He couldn’t reveal the darkness that lurked beneath his surface.

“You’re important to me, Y/N,” he said finally, his voice low and husky. “I care about your safety.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was enough for now. She reached out and took his hand, her fingers interlacing with his.

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes filled with warmth. “That means a lot to me.”

Tom watched them from across the room, his fists clenched at his sides. He hated this, hated the way she looked at John, the way she touched him.

He wanted to rip them apart, to keep her all to himself. But he knew he couldn’t. He was trapped, bound by the agreement he’d made with the devil.

Later that night, after Y/N had gone to bed, Tom confronted John.

“You’re getting too close to her,” he hissed, his voice laced with venom. “You’re starting to make her suspicious.”

John remained impassive, his eyes cold and unyielding. “I am protecting her. As we agreed.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Tom retorted. “You’re trying to steal her from me.”

John chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “She’s not property, Tom. She’s a person. And she’s free to choose who she wants to be with.”

“And you’re manipulating her into choosing you!” Tom accused, his voice rising in anger.

John stepped closer, his face inches from Tom’s. “Be careful, Ludlow. Remember our agreement. I can just as easily take her from you permanently.”

Tom paled, the threat hanging heavy in the air. He knew John was capable of anything, that he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate him if he became a liability.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to calm down. “Just…be careful,” he pleaded, his voice barely audible. “Don’t ruin this for us.”

John simply stared at him, his expression unreadable. He turned and walked away, leaving Tom alone with his jealousy and despair.

The tension continued to build, a silent war raging beneath the surface of their shared obsession.

Y/N, oblivious to the danger that surrounded her, continued to fall deeper in love with John, drawn to his strength and his quiet protectiveness.

She didn’t know that her affection was fueling a deadly game, a game where the stakes were life and death.

One day, Y/N decided to surprise John. She knew he had a fondness for rare whiskey, so she went to a specialty liquor store in search of a bottle he might appreciate.

While browsing the shelves, she caught the eye of another customer, a handsome, charismatic man with a charming smile. He struck up a conversation, complimenting her taste in spirits and offering to share his own knowledge of rare whiskeys.

Y/N, flattered by the attention, found herself enjoying the conversation. He was intelligent, engaging, and genuinely interested in her opinions. She even laughed at one of his jokes, a light, carefree sound that she hadn't realized she'd been missing.

Unbeknownst to her, John was watching from across the street. He’d followed her, a habit he'd developed out of a need to ensure her safety, but now it was something else, something more sinister.

He saw the man’s smile, the way he leaned in close, the spark of connection in Y/N’s eyes.

A cold fury washed over him. He felt the possessive rage rise within him, a primal urge to protect what was his.

He knew what he had to do.

Tom, meanwhile, was at the police precinct, sifting through files and dealing with the usual bureaucratic nonsense. He received a text from John, a single word that sent a chill down his spine: “Liquor store.”

He knew what that meant. Another threat, another loose end to tie up. He sighed, a weary resignation settling over him.

He was trapped in this darkness, a prisoner of his own obsession. He could never escape, never be free.

He made a call, pulling a few strings, setting the wheels in motion.

By the time Y/N left the liquor store, the handsome stranger would be gone. Disappeared without a trace, another victim of their twisted love.

Y/N, however, was beginning to sense that something wasn't right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was a growing unease within her. She felt like she was being watched, like she was living in a bubble, protected from a danger she couldn't comprehend.

She was right, of course. She was surrounded by darkness, a darkness that threatened to consume her. And the two men who claimed to love her were the ones holding her captive. The question was, how long could they keep up the charade? And what would happen when she finally discovered the truth?

#yandere #keanuverse #tom ludlow #yandere! john wick #john wick x reader #yandere john wick

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tc-doherty · 5 months ago

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TC's Practical Writing Tips for 2025

I am back again! I've said it before and I will say it again now, I'm not coming here to pretend that I can tell you how to use the English language to write a book. That's not my jam.

However I've been writing for over 25 years, and I've written nearly 3.5 million words since 2009 (alas, I did not keep track before then). Whether people like my style or not, my output is undeniable, and I'm sharing the tips that I live by when it comes to the act of writing.

#1 - The Number One Most Important Rule is: write it now, fix it later

The job of any piece of writing, up until the point you decide it's done, is not to be good. It's only job is to exist. You can always fix it later.

#2 - The Second Most Important Rule is: don't let yourself get hung up in the ~mythology~ of being a writer

Writing is art, undeniable. Writing is cool, undeniable. Writing is also just A Thing That You Can Do. It's a physical act. Sometimes you need to pay attention to the part of writing that is just A Thing You Can Do. Being able to disentangle yourself from the IDEA of writing when you need to is a very useful skill.

#3 - It is always permissible – and usually enjoyable – to write the stupidest possible version (see rule #1)

Free yourself from the mindset that the writing must be good. Sometimes you just need to get the words out. Label a draft 'the stupid version' and go ham.

#4 - "Inspiration" is great for poets, but only a bonus for people who write prose (See rules #1 and #2)

If you want to write often, you need to write often. You will find that you don't need to be "inspired" because you've made a habit of it, and it will come naturally. Even one sentence a day is still one sentence a day. One sentence a week is still one sentence a week. It doesn't matter how slowly you go as long as you don't stop Believing in the concept that you need to be inspired to write will trap you into believing in the concept of writer's block If you are having difficulty getting words out that satisfy you, lower your standards and keep writing (see rule #1)

#5 - A few months down the line you will not remember which words came easily and which words did not (see rules #1 and #3)

#6 - Read widely and often, both in your favorite genres and outside of them

You cannot become a good author if you don't read. Pay special attention to things that you love and things that you hate, it will make your writing stronger.

#7 - At a certain point, you MUST write, not just think about writing

You won't get better if you don't practice.

#8 - Never write for the lowest common denominator

Via wise words I once heard: "if you open the window and make love to the world, your story will get pneumonia". Write your work the way you want to write it, and the people who will appreciate it will find it.

#9 - Never write for the bad-faith critic

There will always be people who engage in bad faith, and those people do not matter to you. You will need to learn how to deal with critique, and bad-faith critique, but you cannot live in fear of people like that.

#10- Find the joy in the ACT of writing

It is totally fine and normal to want engagement and praise! However you need to find a way to make the praise the cherry on top, not the entire sundae. Writing is hard work, and it's a lot of work, and it's a lot of work that goes unnoticed. If you lose the ability to enjoy the journey and are proceeding only for external rewards from others, you will gradually write less and less if the ratio of work to rewards is unsatisfying.

#11 - New draft? New document.

For anything other than final copy editing, it's almost always helpful to start in a new document. Any change you make will invariably snowball, and if you're trying to edit within the frame of words you've already written, it will trap you from being able to make large sweeping changes that those snowballs might suggest (or demand)

#12 - Listen when people tell you that something doesn't work for them

Sometimes an outsider can see things that you would miss by being too close, it can be a helpful perspective.

#13 - You are not obligated to listen when people try to tell you HOW to fix it

You are the author, not them. It may not even need to be fixed.

#14 - It is always morally correct to look at critique that you received, even if you asked for it, and decide that it's bullshit and doesn't apply to you (see rule #13)

#15 - "Write what you know" means "write what you're interested in"

You'll learn a lot of new things while you're researching what you're interested in! You will also have a lot of fun putting the things that you love into your work just because you love them.

#16 - "Show don't tell" applies to screenwriting, not novels.

The phrase show don't tell applies to showing the audience in a visual media. Novels are not visual media. They do require a lot of telling. Not all telling, but a lot of it. Both showing and telling are important to novels, but the things that you show are more relevant. The tightrope to walk as an author is "this meeting could have been an email". What does the audience actually have to know (be present at the scene for) versus what can be summarized or relayed through dialogue? Your mileage may vary on which percentage of each works best for you.

#17 - It is always, ALWAYS acceptable to use "said"

Said is invisible. Said is the nail upon which the picture is hung. People will not notice said. People will not get tired of the word said. Using the word said most of the time allows you to really emphasize the times when you don't use the word said. (Also applies to "asked")

#18 - Become comfortable with who you are

Your work is always going to be yours and it's always going to sound like you wrote it, and that is a good thing! That's the best thing! No one else is ever going to write exactly like you, and you should be proud of what you bring to the table as yourself. Of course keep striving to reach new heights and keep improving, but you're never going to outrun your own voice and experiences. Embrace them!

#19- Keep track of your word count in a way that makes sense to you

Some days will be easy. Some days will be hard. On the days when it's hard, it's very helpful to be able to look back and see how far you've come. It helps you remember again that some days will be easy. (see rule #5)

The best thing that you can do is to find the things that you need in order to write at the level of productivity you want to achieve, and find easy ways to wrap them into your own life. Spend some time soul-searching if you need to. You will gradually acquire your own list of tips to live by!

I hope everyone who reads this has a wonderful 2025 and that you all accomplish what you would like to accomplish. I'll be rooting for you!

#writeblr #writing #writing advice #writing tips

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chogiwow · 1 year ago

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cliches are okay | lee heeseung

pairing: heeseung x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, suggestive

wc: 1.3k+

warnings: mention of a fight, injury, blood, medication, suggestive, reader calls seung a pervert (he’s not, he’s just a guy getting straddled)

"you actually got into a fight?"

standing in the middle of the room, you regard heesung incredulously, taking in the bruised cheek and split lip. heeseung’s eyes remained downcast, trying to play it off nonchalantly by leaning across the doorframe.

"yeah."

heeseung doesn't elucidate further, leaving you to scoff silently as he enters the room with the first aid kit in his hand, plopping down in the middle of your bed.

"okay cool, i'll leave you to it then." you move to leave the room but heeseung is already scrambling up, blocking your path before you can leave.

"help me clean up?"

crossing your arm against your chest, you are amused at the way heeseung’s eyes betray the vulnerability in them though his stance looks like he couldn't care less. his eyes always give it away, not a very desired trait in someone who claims to be tough and cold.

"you think this is a movie? some sort of stupid cliche where we'll share a moment?"

"we're sharing a moment now," heeseung shrugs

"and what's the magic word?"

heeseung’s eyes snap up to you. you don’t bother disguising the instant smile that bursts through your lips. heeseung should know that he doesn't make the rules every time.

gulping, perhaps his ego or dignity or whatever, heeseung concedes.

"please."

his voice is stiff, breathy and yet it's not in the least bit demanding. it's genuine.

you move to the bed without answering, fumbling with the ointments and disinfectant, pulling out clean cotton swabs.

"what, you want me to do it standing up?" you question and it has heeseung quickly taking a seat on the mattress.

without another word, you set about dipping the cotton in the brownish liquid, dabbing it lightly on heeseung’s cheek right under his eyes, blowing cool air on it without him asking you to.

he sits still, shoulders pulled back as you work, steadily gazing at you without meaning to.

"why did you really fight?" you ask, pulling out another cotton swab and swiping some ointment off a tube before applying it on the bruise. if heeseung was in pain or it stung, he didn't show it.

"he's an asshole, he deserved it."

now working on his lips, you press upon them slightly and it elicits a hiss and a glare from heeseung.

"that's what you get for lying."

"i'm not lying! he really is, ask niki, he’ll–"

"he’ll be sure to take your side, you're like some sort of messiah for him."

heeseung glares, clenching his jaws and frowning at your disbelieving nature. what had he done to deserve this kind of treatment?

"you never believe me," he sulks as you swipe off more ointment, completely unbothered by his tantrum, "do you really have to treat me like this?"

"like what?" you stare at him, waiting for him to reply before you could apply the ointment on his lips.

"like i'm the last person you would trust even if the world was ending…"

you can't help the laugh that bubbles up your throat, the seriousness of his childish accusation undelivered under his constant assumption that given a chance, you would want nothing to do with heeseung, and yet, here he was, seemingly worried that you didn't care when you could very well say the same for him.

"that's because you wouldn't either," you spluttered, sniffling at his comment.

"that's not true, i trust you with my life."

"oh yeah?" you deadpan, "well, even if i wanted to, i think it would be hard to trust someone who has so little regard for his own safety."

you raise your hand to finish tending to heeseung’s wounds, but the latter is already pulling it down, his fingers circling around your wrist, skin cold against your own warm hand.

"but i would never put you in danger," heeseung’s voice softened, eyes boring into yours and god, you know he's not kidding. his eyes always give him away.

"okay, i believe you," you say quietly, tugging at your hand but heeseung doesn't let go just yet.

"you sure you aren't just saying that?"

heeseung leans towards you, his nose brushing against yours in a feather-like tickle and you can smell the disinfectant off him. his soft breaths fall warm on your face and his cold fingers leave a tingle down your spine.

"what if i kissed you right now?" you take a chance, mumbling quietly into the space between you two.

"what if you did?"

moments pass in utter silence, your hand still in heeseung’s and your faces so very close, but you contemplate whether you should lean forward or not. if you know anything about heeseung, it's that he won't make the first move. he never did, always waiting for you to initiate things when you were comfortable enough.

sitting here so close to each other, heeseung almost wants to be the one to lean in and kiss you like he's always wanted to. yet, he thinks he can wait for as long as you make him and he'll never complain.

but when you glance up, there's the question glimmering so clearly in heeseung’s eyes, it’s hard to ignore it even if he wanted to.

how long will you make me wait? i can wait, no doubt…but i want you. and you know you want me too.

slowly, you lean forward, tilting your head before slotting your lips against his, eyes fluttering shut of their own accord. heeseung presses back gently, as if assuring you that this was okay, the pressure warm against your skin and you finally kiss him properly.

lips moving against each others' slowly as if you had all the time in the world, heeseung nibbles on your bottom lip, pulling you closer. his cold fingers rest on your neck, making you tremble under his touch, your own fingers moving to grip his hair.

neither of you tries to take it any further, simply moving your lips in tandem and savouring the moment.

you pull apart, licking your lips and breathing heavily. heeseung rests his forehead against yours, placing a small peck at the corner of your mouth and you positively melt at the feather like touch, burning hotter than his hold against your neck.

"you taste like disinfectant," you murmured against his lips, kissing him again nonetheless.

"and yet you're still kissing me," heeseung raises a brow, returning the favour with his own little kiss right under your jaw. it takes you your all to not push him back on the bed.

"never said i didn't like it," you remarked.

heeseung hums, tracing his lips against your neck and kissing you on the shoulder.

you are doing your best to stay calm. you fail miserably when a soft sigh leaves your lips at his touch.

"you also thought we wouldn't share a moment," heeseung smiles into the crook of your neck and you shake your head in denial.

"i asked whether you think we would share a moment," correcting him, you pull his face away from your neck and kiss the tip of his nose.

"are we," heeseung pulls you right onto his lap, your legs straddling him instantly as he holds you by the waist "having a moment now?"

"i would think so," you smile, kissing his cheeks.

"you only think?" the grin on heeseung’s face gives nothing away, but his eyes do. they always do and right now they hold you in their dark pools with so much love, you wonder how you missed it before. maybe because you've always been looking at him the same way and never noticed how they mirror yours.

"i'm supposed to put the ointment now," you mutter reluctantly.

"but then i'll taste like ointment and you'll get it in your mouth," heeseung says, scrunching up his nose in disgust at the thought.

"or maybe," you counter, almost relinquishing to his little act, "i can finish taking care of your wounds and kiss you later."

"that's no fun," heeseung grunts, pulling you closer and you vividly feel him under you when he moves.

"pervert," you simply state and before heeseung can say anything, you cup his face and give him a long kiss. heeseung melts at the feeling of your lips, moaning softly into your mouth. you feel the blood rush down and pull apart, never relinquishing your hold around him though.

"you seem to like this pervert," heeseung smiles.

"and does he like me?" you anticipate his response.

"yeah, he does. a lot."

you know heeseung is not lying, his eyes give it all away. they always do.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen heeseung imagines #heeseung imagines #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #my works

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savoryleekachu · 15 days ago

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"𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦?"; 𝘙𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘢 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

"Reigen, am I... unlovable?" Your question has been haunting Reigen for days. Actually, it wasn't really the question itself— it's what he responded with. Arataka nervously laughs, turning away from you.

"Hah... What..?" You turn to Arataka, your face tinted with offense.

"I'm serious, Reigen." He glances at you, eyes sharp, a little too fast with his reply.

"Don't be so dramatic. You're not special enough to be unlovable."

The words hang in the air, heavier than either of you expected. You stare at him, stunned. Arataka instantly regrets it, but his pride locks his mouth shut. •·.·''·.·•

Arataka hadn’t seen you in days. He hadn’t been able to contact you either; the constant dial tone rang in his ears for hours. Have you blocked him? He doesn’t blame you. Not really. But that doesn't stop the creeping nausea that coils in his gut every time he thinks about what he said.

“You're not special enough to be unlovable.”

What the hell was that? It came out too fast, too defensive— a reflex, like swatting at a wasp too close to his ear. Except this wasn’t some harmless sting. It was your face. The way your eyes sank just slightly, like something inside you quietly folded in on itself.

And now you were gone.

He tried to convince himself you were just busy. That maybe your phone had died. That maybe, any moment now, you'd barge into his office like always—grinning, uninvited, holding lunch in one hand and some half-baked excuse in the other. But it’s been four days. And now even Mob is getting antsy. His head snaps toward the door every time the clock strikes 4:00 p.m.—the time you'd always show up with snacks for both of them and that warm, effortless smile like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Even Serizawa had started asking about you. Arataka could see it in his eyes—how much he missed your quiet presence. You always made time to sit and share a cup of the cheap tea Arataka bought for the office with him whenever he and Mob were too busy. And now, that small comfort was gone—because of him.

It was Arataka’s stupid mouth that ruined it.

He was the one who took away Mob’s favorite person to talk to after a long day.

He was the one who pushed you out, even as every part of him ached for you to stay.

And the worst part? He knew exactly what he was supposed to say to your question.

"Reigen, am I... unlovable?" “No. You’re the only person who ever made me feel like maybe I wasn’t, either.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

On the fifth day, Mob came into the office, looking around as if he was expecting you to already be there. It broke Arataka's heart.

He was looking for you, too.

"Shishou," Mob frowned when he failed to spot you, his shoulders sinking a little, "What happened to (Y/N)?"

Arataka didn’t look up right away. His eyes were fixed on the half-empty coffee cup sitting on his desk, pretending to be lost in thought. But Mob didn’t rush him—he was patient. Quiet.

He glanced at the door, half-expecting you to walk in like you always did. “I… I miss her.”

Arataka’s jaw tightened.

Mob wasn’t one to say things like that lightly. If he missed you, it meant your absence was more than just noticeable—it left a hole.

“Yeah,” Arataka admitted quietly. “I miss her too.” ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Arataka should’ve cared more. He should’ve cared enough to ask where you lived. He should’ve cared enough to walk you home, to say something real instead of the half-hearted goodbyes he always gave as you left the office.

Now, as he wanders through the streets of Seasoning City, every familiar corner twists into a reminder of what he lost—and what he never gave. His phone feels heavy in his hand, each call unanswered, each message left on read like a silent rejection. But he can’t stop. He won’t stop.

He roams, hoping to stumble across you by chance, hoping to see that smile that always made the chaos of his days feel a little lighter. He’s desperate—desperate to say the words he should have said a thousand times before. That you are lovable. That you always have been.

That he loves you.

And maybe, if fate is kind, maybe you’ll let him say it to your face. Riiiingggg. Beep! Arataka pauses. Did you just— "Why are you still calling me Reigen?" Your voice is soft but empty— no bitterness, no anger. Just a quiet resignation as if you had just accepted you were less than nothing in Arataka's eyes. That's what crushes him most. His throat tightens, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I… I need to say it to you. To your face. Please. Where are you?" There was a long pause; the only thing he could hear through the speaker was the low hum of your room—the faint whir of a fan, the creak of old floorboards.

He spoke again, more desperately this time, pain catching in his throat. “Please… tell me. I just want to see you. I want to try—try to fix this!" •·.·''·.·•

Arataka had never run faster in his life.

His feet pounded the pavement, heavy as lead—each step a battle against the guilt clawing at his back, begging him to stop, to turn around, to admit he was already too late.

His legs burned. His lungs screamed. His breath came in short, ragged bursts. His tie flapped wildly over his shoulder, suit jacket unbuttoned, shoes slick with city grime—but none of it mattered.

All he could think about was you.

The city rushed past in smears of light and motion—faces, cars, voices—all a blur against the singular thought screaming in his head:

Please still be there.

He should’ve cared more. So much more.

He should’ve known where you lived. Should’ve walked you home every night, instead of waving lazily from the office door. Should’ve asked how you were, how your heart was doing, whether you felt seen—whether you felt loved.

He should’ve done everything differently; and now he was chasing a moment that should’ve never been lost.

Arataka rounded the corner too fast and stumbled, barely catching himself as his eyes locked on you.

You were there, standing beneath the red awning of the café you always mentioned—the one with the bitter coffee and the soft seats. You were standing upright, scanning the sidewalk, your eyes searching every passerby with that same quiet determination he’d seen so many times before.

You were waiting for him, and that shattered something inside him.

He didn’t call your name—there wasn’t time.

A storm of guilt, regret, and fear surged through him, and before he could stop himself, he was in front of you, pulling you close.

He crashed into you, wrapping you in a tight, desperate hug that almost stole both your breaths. You tensed for a moment—caught off guard—but then let yourself settle into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean what I said. Not a single word.”

His forehead rested against your shoulder, seeking comfort just as much as offering it.

“You deserve so much love,” he said, voice trembling. “And I love you. I love you more than I can say, and it crushed me when you asked if you were unlovable.”

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say. But you always found solace in hugs, and slowly, your hands came up to wrap around his waist. “I always say the wrong things when it matters most,” he confessed. “I joke, I deflect, I pretend it’s not serious—and I hurt people because I don’t know how to be honest when it counts. That’s on me. It’s always been on me.”

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes—his filled with tears he wouldn’t let fall.

“You asked me something real, and I mocked it. I mocked you. It’s the biggest regret of my life.”

His voice softened, almost a whisper now.

“I don’t deserve your love… but I love you. I always have. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

The silence between you trembled, fragile as a whispered secret, a glass on the verge of shattering. He braced himself, expecting you to pull away, to recoil, or even to strike out in pain or anger. But you didn’t. Instead, you pulled him back, drawing him close. Your face found shelter against his chest, your breath quiet and steady. In that simple touch, a thousand words went unspoken—apologies, hopes, regrets, and a love too deep for speech. His fingers traced softly through your hair, every stroke a silent vow.

I’m here.

I love you.

And this time, I’m not letting go.

#reigen arakata #mp100 reigen #mob #dimple #mp100 #mob psycho reigen #reigen x reader #mob psycho 100 #serizawa katsuya #angst with a happy ending #light angst #fluff

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melis-writes · 1 year ago

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Blood Money (Tony Montana x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut) Chapter 3 – An Eye For An Eye.

Chapter 2 / Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami." / “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

Tony's fiery gaze burned into the back of your mind but your name etched on his heart from the very moment he knew who you were. Keeping you on his mind like prayer, Tony wastes no time in attempting to squeeze himself out of every interrogation at the Cuban migrant camp he and Manny are detained in. Like a power move claiming he knows you, Tony's beckoning you to meet him once more in your hometown with bold claims striking the attention of your father–one of the most notorious, wealthy businessmen of Miami–with one claim being that of love.

[WARNINGS]: None!

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: Oh my goodness, a LONG time coming and the chapter update is finally here at last!! 😭💀 I'm thrilled to update this fic again and share it with the Tony girlies! Battling writer's block and life getting super busy was a chore but I. AM. BACK and writing! And yet I must break everyone's heart again by saying this update of Blood Money officially marks my temporary hiatus of Al fics outside of The Godfather universe. 💔 I will now solely be working on my Godfather fanfics until I'm finished so I have ample time and opportunity to write more consistently and update fics even more often than I ever have. I'm definitely not abandoning this fic and I will finish it someday soon! For now, let's dive back into Tony and Celeste's story!! 🥺🤞🏻

With a taste for success and dollar bills, Tony Montana’s drug empire grew in vast wealth, power and influence by your side as the kingpin’s lover. From sharing an intimate history in Cuba, you and Manny Ribera were the only ones to believe and support Tony from rags to riches. Embroiled in the same lifestyle and sharing enemies, you and Tony come to build your empire and world together with the threat of it collapsing from the inside. As partnership turns to betrayal and thrill to danger, you find yourself in-between ultimatums and sacrifices for the man you love.

'I'm always in the right, man. Always am.' The shit-eating grin over Tony's face spreads equal amounts of tension and frustration throughout the interrogation room; keeping the officers on edge for word back from your family knowing Tony could potentially be a protected individual under the Navarro family while thinking at the very same time that Tony could be bullshitting everyone just to waste their time.

Tony sits all too comfortably in front of the officers with his arms crossed, all the more amused watching them huff quietly to themselves and glower back at Tony every few minutes.

"So--" Tony attempts to start a lively conversation on his behalf.

"You shut the fuck up, Montana," the first cop points his finger at Tony. "Don't say a fuckin' word."

"We're not playing with you," the second cop scowls.

"Alright, man. Alright," Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely, "sheesh. I keep quiet when people talk on the phone, like Mama taught me, okay?"

Letting out another shaky sigh of irritation, the officers exchange a glance amongst one another, knowing well enough that if they've bothered the Navarro family for no good reason, it'll result in a guaranteed suspension without pay and likely following up with getting fired.

Then again, there's always the possibility that it could be Tony finding himself in hot water with the Navarros due to his cockiness and stupidity, and if that means having Tony out of the refugee camp and no longer able to be a nuisance, then it'll be both a best case scenario and a relief for the officers involved. Still, it's all too much to consider at once.

"Tell the supervisor," the first cop mumbles, "he needs to know what's going on."

"Will do," the other sighs, taking a seat back at his desk to grab out his notepad.

Ignoring Tony outright, the first cop moves his stool over to the telephone by the desk and sits next to it before beginning to dial the Navarro family reception line.

'By heart?' Tony's eyes flicker with interest, noticing how the officer has your family's number memorized by heart—rendering him surprised and amused at the same time.

'So they know her,' Tony thinks to himself. 'She not a nobody. She a somebody. I got her name on the line for me. Just for me.'

This means more to Tony than you can already know, even if all you'll ever do is show up to spit on his face and blame him for wasting your time. The satisfaction alone is everything for him.

Both officers continue to ignore Tony and avoid making any sort of eye contact with him; murmuring ushered words to one another and pressing through more numbers on the telephone as it rings.

Only mere moments after does Tony notice how tense the officer on the telephone gets by the way his muscles jerk up in response to the telephone being answered by a monotone-voiced, middle-aged man speaking out.

"Navarro residence."

The very individual answering the phone would be your father's advisor and right-hand man, Gabriel.

"Cuban Detention Center, Officer Frank speaking," the cop says politely, clearing his throat. "May we please speak to Mr. Navarro?"

There's a short pause on the other end of the line. "Do you have a request or appointment booked in advance?"

"No," Officer Frank answers quietly. "Um, ahem—this is in relation to immigration and detention. There's a gentleman here claiming he was requested by name from a potential--" Frank scowls over at Tony. "Sponsor."

Gabriel's tone of voice grows considerably agitated. "I trust you have a good reason for wishing to bother Mr. Navarro. You will not hear it from me."

"Greatly appreciated," Officer Frank awkwardly replies as Gabriel begins to transfer the call to your father's personal telephone.

Fully aware of the telephone conversation ongoing with Gabriel, your father—Darren Navarro--is two stories up in his penthouse—still in his Versace morning robe, smoking a Cuban cigar.

His first words to Officer Frank once the line transfer is, "You better have a good reason for reaching my personal number, Frank."

"Oh yes sir, o-of course," Frank stammers. "I apologize, sir. I didn't mean to interrupt your day, but this is urgent."

"So you say so," your father is unmoved by the sudden sense of urgency. "I suppose it is coming from the immigration and refugee department. I've sponsored nobody, so what is all of this?"

Officer Frank's skin drains of color as he nervously exchanges a glance with his colleague, glumly shaking his head. "Um, sir, there was a mention of your daughter's name by a Cuban migrant."

Your father raises a brow, leaning back on his velvet chaise. Your last trip to Cuba and mentions of "Tony Montana" and "Manny Ribera" easily come to Darren's mind.

"Interesting," Darren muses. "And what is this individual's name?"

"Tony Montana," Tony speaks up loud and clear, grinning. "And with my best friend, Manny Ribera."

"Shut the fuck up!" The second cop hisses, almost jumping out from behind his desk to hit Tony.

Darren's all very well aware Tony is in the same room and must know who he is by now, having heard everything.

"Uh huh," your father chuckles. "I see."

"Sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," Frank scoffs, swallowing hard.

"Stop your whining," Darren rolls his eyes. "I heard the man loud and clear. This is no request for me but for my daughter then."

"The migrant claims to know Celeste Navarro personally, sir." Frank clears his throat.

"Yes, he does. That much is true," your father nods.

"May we speak to Celeste, sir?"

"No need," Darren brushes off the request, glancing towards his bedroom door. "Celeste will soon be on her way to greet both gentlemen personally.

"This man--" Frank begins, but is abruptly cut off and corrected by your father.

"Men," your father clarifies, refusing to exclude Manny. "There are two of them after all, so Celeste will see both. She knows both of them, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Darren blows out the smoke from his cigar around him, resting his cigar between his fingers as he admires the afternoon light glistening over his gold rings and jewelry. "Treat these men well. I'm aware of the reputation your detention center has and its demands. 'Gentle' is not in your vocabulary so be respectful. These are friends of the Navarro family and I expect them to be treated as such."

"Yes, sir..." Mortified, the officers stare in shock at a smirking Tony before your father hangs up on them.

Giving a drawn-out sigh, you roll your eyes in annoyance at the back cover of the gossip magazine you’ve been reading; already questioning why you bother with the tabloids just to entertain you.

Flipping back to the front cover of a bikini model on Miami beach, you rest your chin over your fist, wearing a flowing, pastel pink satin nightgown—laying on your stomach and dangling your feet, attempting to beat boredom.

Frank Sinatra’s “All By Myself” plays softly on your white and gold decorated record player, a compliment to the similar colors lavishly decorated over your bedroom.

Practically the size of a house’s first floor, your bedroom itself spans 1,500 square feet and is fit for a princess, covered in various shades of pink with a glimmering diamond chandelier above you.

The very king-size bed you lounge upon is adorned with a bubble-gum pink cashmere and quilt duvet and six silk encased pillows, a polar bear throw in the center of your bedroom upon the marble floors striking attention to the wall fixtures and architecture of the bedroom taking inspiration from the Palace of Versailles.

You furrow your brows in annoyance at the magazine in your hands, only to have your thought suddenly interrupted by the sound of your father knocking on your door.

You peek up in interest, brushing a curtain of your hair back. “Come in.”

“Hi, darling,” your father enters your room with a warm smile—holding a glass of iced rum in one hand and concealing something in his fist with the other. “Didn’t think I’d be giving you good news so quick, eh?”

Chuckling, your father opens his fist and lightly tosses your car keys over to you.

Reaching your arm out, you snatch the car keys mid-air—staring at your father in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami,” your father says with a laugh. “Immigration services at the Cuban refugee camp called me just earlier.”

“Huh,” you blink, rubbing your temple as your memory recollects, hitting you all at once.

“I never say goodbye either. I say you’re gonna remember these faces—my face.”

‘Tony Montana.’ Your face flushes red as you clear your throat, glancing up at your father. “They called you?”

“Mhmm,” your father nods, taking a small sip from his drink. “Quick to it, I’ll give them that. I don’t think that Tony of yours has been there for very long from the sounds of it. They wanted to reach you, actually.”

“Makes sense of course,” you slide aside your magazine, sitting up in bed. “Great…”

“What do you think?” Your father raises a brow.

“I’m not thinking of anything,” you give your head a shake.

“No? You sure you don’t owe this Tony and his friend a favor or two?”

“I don’t owe anyone anything,” you roll your eyes out of frustration. “But for Tony,” you clutch your car keys, “if he wants to see me, I’ll go see him. I’ll see him, but I don’t know what I can do for him.”

“Is this really someone worth wriggling out of months worth of paperwork and getting into the front of the line? ‘Cause I’ll let you decide that,” your father shrugs.

Getting off of your bed, you eye your purse from across the bedroom. “I think I’ve already made my decision.”

“I’m sure you made the right one,” your father turns back on his heel.

“Is Tony waiting for me right now?” You head over to your walk-in closet.

“He is,” your father confirms, placing his hand over your doorknob to close the door behind him. “And I think you’re the only person he wants to see right now.”

‘Tony Montana…’ You let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back against your car’s headrest. ‘Again and so soon.’ With great effort, you push aside the fluttering feeling in your heart every time Tony’s name and face cross your mind; clearing your throat and putting your Armani sunglasses on.

Starting up your Mercedes-Benz 380SL Convertible and pulling out of your estate’s parking lot carefully, you focus on nothing but getting directly to immigration services—able to collect your thoughts.

Letting the warm summer breeze flow through your hair as you step on the gas, determined to know just why Tony’s got your name mixed up with the law.

You may not have taken the rugged, cocky stranger very seriously back in Cuba but you’d be lying to yourself right now if you said you weren’t a little intimidated by Tony’s timing.

‘Didn’t think my name would cross your lips so soon either… Full of surprises.’

Tony knows he can sit and wait in the interrogation room for an eternity to come so as long as it’s promised you’ll show up—riding off on the idea of seeing you again like a lingering high.

Driving through the streets of Miami, you tap your French tip manicure against your steering wheel patiently through every red light.

Your eyes flicker over beach-bound tourists making their way over the crosswalks, noting the impatient drivers on the other side of the intersection honking at each other and tossing cigarettes out the window; the scent of body odor and beer not far from the beach itself.

Giving your head a shake, you scrunch your nose in disgust and drive off—not far from reaching the secluded immigration center from downtown.

You arrive a little over ten minutes later, driving into the clearance section with the rest of the other drivers waiting their turn to speak with an officer at the booth and be admitted.

Resting your arm on the windowpane of your car, you peek your head out of the window just enough for your face to be seen, and just as you expected, you’re recognized by an officer at a booth opposite from you almost instantaneously.

‘Uh huh.’ Noticing the officer blocking the path of the upcoming car who was next in line, you slowly drive up as he gestures for you to follow.

“How is that fucking fair?!” You hear a honk and shout of irritation from the other driver, simply ignoring him and continuing to cautiously drive up.

“Blow it out your ass, buddy,” the officer rolls his eyes.

Parking your car, you glance up at the officer who only gives you a brief nod and lets you through without a single word; just one of the many perks of being the daughter of one of Miami’s most notorious businessmen.

“Alright,” you mutter under your breath as you approach the guarded parking lot, seeing another officer heading directly your way. ‘Let’s see what this is really all about.’

Taking off your sunglasses, you make eye contact with the officer who furrows his brows at you in confusion; more than likely wondering how you got in so quickly and just who you are to be taking priority over anyone else.

“And who might you be?” The officer asks smugly.

“I think you know who I am,” you reply back coyly. “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

As smug and prideful as he can be, Tony slouches in his seat with his arms crossed and completely relaxed as if he’s the one arranging the interrogation rather than being interrogated.

As apparent as the officers make it seem to Tony how thoroughly pissed, exhausted, and anxious they are dealing with him, Tony reflects it with his nonchalant attitude on purpose.

“You think you’re taking some sort of vacation, Montana?” Officer Frank scowls.

“Sure, man,” Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely. “I think my vacation is on the way.”

Ignoring the immigration officer who escorts you inside the facility as some mock bodyguard, you make your way towards the entrance of the interrogation offices where the officer gestured you to, making note of the maximum-security gates and barbed wire high walls.

Giving a small huff of annoyance and adjusting your hair, you approach a narrow hallway inside the next building and set your sunglasses on your head.

“This way, please,” the officer guiding you murmurs and politely steps in front of you.

Unphased and hardly listening, you follow the officer until you both reach an interrogation door marked “11B”.

You maintain your distance from both the officer and the door as the officer leans over and quickly knocks on the door not to ask to come in but to signal his entrance.

A wide, playful grin spreads over Tony’s face as he turns his head back to face the door—absolutely thrilled to see it about to open in front of him.

Fear simmers back into the officers the moment they spot a feminine silhouette behind the tinted glass of the door, instantly remembering now more than ever that their jobs are on the line.

Pushing open the door, the officer guiding you inside steps in first and out of your way—clearing his throat to speak out, “Miss Celeste Navarro is here, sir.”

‘Celeste Navarro…’ Seeing you before him once more, Tony’s pupils widen as a strong surge of attraction hits him—coursing through his veins.

Tony’s muscles tighten and he feels the heat of arousal trickling inside of him as he locks eyes with you, stunned and utterly admiring every inch of your figure.

Attempting to look at you with more humility than defeat or nervousness, the officers are put off by your very presence and can say or do nothing as you cross your arms; expectant and domineering before everyone else.

You’re the only spot of color in the otherwise dull room filled with grey uniforms and sweaty men; dressed in an Armani, pastel pink, cropped tweed blazer, a matching mini skirt, a white chiffon Calvin Klein blouse with a bow at your collar and four-inch glossy nude pumps.

“There she is, she’s the one,” Tony smirks at you—breaking the momentary silence in the room.

“Ahem,” Officer Frank clears his throat, beginning to sit upright in his seat. “You know this man, miss?”

“Do I?” You raise a brow, unamused. “It feels like I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Yes, baby,” Tony mutters to himself inaudibly. ‘Come to me. You’re here now.’

“Miss Navarro,” the other officer begins to speak up awkwardly, “apologies if this is an intrusive question however this man claims to know you and—”

”And she’s my fiancée, as I was telling you. Okay, man?” Tony interrupts, rolling his eyes. “Can I have some privacy with my fiancée, man?”

‘Fiancee? What the hell is he talking about?’ Struck into shock by Tony’s words, you hold your posture and expression, but you know where Tony’s coming from and just why he’s deciding to play this game with you now.

“Yes, so what?” You snap back, noticing the playful twinkle in Tony’s eyes. “It’s true, he is my fiancée.”

‘Tony… I hope you know what you’re doing. I swear… Now is not the time to put on a show.’

The officers stare at each other in utter discomfort, remaining silent.

“But I don’t recall that being anyone’s business except mine,” you narrow your eyes at them, taking a step forward to Tony.

Tony takes your soft hand in his, caressing his thumb over the back of your hand softly. “See?”

“Well,” Officer Frank swallows hard, “if that’s the case—”

Your eyes snap open in shock as Tony leans up in his seat, suddenly cupping both of your cheeks and immediately pulling you into a crushing, deep kiss.

‘Oh!’ Your lips collide over his and your eyes flutter shut in response, feeling the warmth of his tongue teasing the tip of yours in loving passion without a care—ensnared in the moment of having you as his fiancée with no intentions of letting go.

#scarface #scarface 1983 #al pacino #tony montana #tony montana x reader #tony montana x reader smut #tony montana x oc #tony montana smut #scarface x reader #scarface x reader smut #blood money fic #blood money fanfic

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georgette-mademoiselle · 1 year ago

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Georgette and sekido part 8

overthinking

This one is kinda a continuation to the last one i made yesterday

Even since the beginning of there first encounter she had always tried to keep away from him because he was very intimidating but after finally bieng alone to talk to him that fateful day there relationship started to slowly develop from there but would revert back when his anger got the best of him towards her accidentally.

But on this particular day she was avoiding him for a week now and soon his rage would dwell into fear he thought he was going to lose her for good and choose to be with the others instead of him permanently.

He was in his working station in his room mot even able to concentrate as he fidgets around his pen while the other massages his temple his leg making the same movement as his working hand he was nervous more so that his beloved could possibly be thinking to leave him now because he went to far in his words.

He may be the embodiment of anger but still shares the same anxiety as hantengu just not to that extreme. Soon his chest almost felt tight and suddenly hes gulping down his weakness near the edge of wanting to have a paranoid breakdown never in his life has he felt such guilt for his actions not like this hes not used to this feeling at all and it only agitates him more that hes in this vulnerable state of despair and shame.

But then the door slides open he had forgotten to lock it. it was georgette, she had come to check up on him after never leaving his room all day today sne was worried for his well-being but before she could even say anything something was already wrong by the shaking body gesture and hands clutched onto his head "sekido!" She called.

Immideatly he jolted to her way. His eyes where wide in fear and it looked as if he was fighting back tears seeing the glisten of his eyes while sweating. His panick attack was about to hit full blown but her presence and look of genuine concern blocked it from happening.

"g-gerogie..." Just before she could move towards him with open arms sekido jumped out of his seat to hold her missing her warmth her gentlness her scent everything about this woman he missed it all. Wrapping his arms around her waist before he fell to his knees the wetness of her dress as he silently sobs of relief.

"sekido! Sekido! Hey whats wrong? My thunder storm why do you weep?" She kneels down letting him rest upon her lap as he lets it all out fingers caressing his soft auborn colored hair.

His words took time to put together, pulling together to stop from hyperventilating until finally words managed to escape his mouth.

" i-i-...im sorry! Ok there! Sorry! I know im not the kindest of person in the world infact i dont even deserve to be treated with such gesture! Y-you deserve better ok! Go with ai hes more empathetic o-or urogi! He can make you smile! Even stupid karaku would be better of with you! J-just...*fighting the urge not to cry again* anyone but me ok! I dont want to hurt you like that ever again I'm sorry georgie im so sorry!...."

She sat there and listened to his woes, she had no idea that he would have been affected by her absence, she only wanted to give him room to breath no matter how long it taked but that wasnt the case sekido missed her since day one of leaving him alone and now his guilt took a toll on him that she would leave him for somone else somone better and kinder. Yet little did sekido know he was kind a very different kind of kindness that was rare to see.

" my love, why do you say such nonsense? I already have the most kindest most understanding man right her on my lap." She moves her other hand to rub his shoulder.

" your motherly nature when you look out for your comrades is something i admire, perhaps strict but nonetheless its because you care for there safety"

" and dont think ive forgotten the time when you nurtured me during the time i came home with my face disfigured you still complimented me thoughtful after i was feeling low self esteem in that moment and to top it off you even came to my care when i was sick due to my ability even though you didnt have to. i think about it often "she chuckles placing a kiss on his forhead.

" you are loved sekido, and you are wanted. Nobody is perfect and thats ok...im not eather. No matter how rocky our relationship gets i want us to be able to solve it together because at the end of the day while i love the other three i want to be with *you* more than anyone sekido.."

He listened and the more he did the more he was gaining his composure again. He needed to hear that this was something hes been needing to hear for a long time now. Hes flawed and thats ok she is aswell. As his worries finally drift away sekido finally had the courage to slowly lift himself up to her nuzzling on the crook of her neck the same she did to him during that day of her mental breakdown.

"thank you, my rose..."

"i really needed to hear that..." He deeply sighed feeling true relaxation now.

" i think if you hadnt had come here any time i would have already bashed my head againts the wall along with the other idiots."

She only laughed

" where going to have to work on a different approach for a better anger management for example"

Hands him a rubber stress ball "tada!'

"....what the fuck is that?'" he looked at it with disgust the texture feeling wrong to him

" a stress management ball you can squeeze it throw it and smash it to let your anger all out see? Im good at this!"

He just stares at it and then clutches it with his fists then snorts.

" well this sure looks fun.."

"because it is my little lightning bolt ❤️"

Dividers by @/elryisia

#i like to think sekido is self conscious about his constant state of anger especially if its somone he deeply cares about it #it makes him feel that there better of finding somone else instead #sekido x georgette #georgette mademoiselle #original demon oc #kinda but not really kny oc #sekido #kny sekido #sekido kny #upper moon 4 #hantengu clones #kny #demon slayer #kimitsu no yaiba

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spenglersglasses · 1 year ago

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Hey there Ghostbuster lovers!!!!!

II know it has been a WHILE since we hung out but I'm back again with the next chapter of my Egon x OC Molly fic!

I hope you all enjoy!

(Special thanks to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the dividers)

Commissions are OPEN, please see pinned post for Carrd info on my main blog @copiousloverofcopia

Things have fallen on hard times for the members of the Ghostbusters when the memory of saving the world from the threat of supernatural destruction fades in the minds of the city. Now, with each of them going their separate ways, Egon joins up with another scientist to share a lab so he can continue his experiments. When an innocent mistake by his lab mate leads to a mix up that could mean big consequences for Egon, he must choose whether or not to reveal the truth to Molly, the test subject or keep it secret forever.

Observations in Love

Chapter 4: Halloween

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven't started yet? Start from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!

“Molly, wait!” Egon called out as Molly stormed down the block. Her eyes were fixed straight forward, refusing to look back at him. How could he know a thing like that and not tell her? Why would he not tell her that she was pregnant with his child, before deciding to make a fool of them both in the middle of her friend’s party.

“I have nothing to say to you right now Dr. Spengler.” she huffed, finally reaching the doors to her building. Egon chased after her as fast as he could, grateful that he managed to catch up as Molly struggled to find her key. Hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, faced with his general lack of athleticism. Huffing and puffing as he tried to decide what he should say next.

“Please.” he begged; Molly let out a sigh before she turned around to face him. She could see in eyes he was angry with himself. Molly, realizing that while it was a stupid mistake Egon hadn't meant to hurt her. The revelation, forcing her to consider if it really was just his haphazard announcement that was bothering her.

Molly had to face the facts. She was in love with the odd scientist and former ghostbuster even though she had only barely acknowledged it aloud. Everything was happening so fast; she felt her head spinning. Am I really pregnant…with Egon’s baby, she thought.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. She knew she should be thrilled, ecstatic even at the news. Instead, all she could think of was the interaction between him and Janine. It was true they had broken things off long ago, but had his feelings towards her really changed?

For all intents and purposes, he barely knew Molly. If Janine wanted him back, would he abandon her? Leave her to be with the woman he loved, instead of someone he accidentally became involved with? Molly couldn’t bear the thought of it.

Egon had managed to pull himself together enough to step up beside her on the stoop. “Go ahead, say what you need to say.” Molly huffed; her mouth pressed into a tight, thin line. Trying her best to hold back her frustration—her tears.

“It was an accident. I would have never blurted it out like that had he not…” Egon began, ranting away before realizing that he was shifting the blame. “No…no that’s not right. I’m sorry. I should have been more discreet.” Molly felt the tears beginning to well in her eyes as she nodded in response.

“More so Egon, you should have told me first! You knew this whole time and said nothing. How long did you know about the baby?” she asked him. Hearing her own words as they left her, rendered her speechless. Both their hearts thumping as Egon stared deeply into Molly’s eyes. Wanting desperately to kiss her.

“That’s right—we’re having a baby.” he smiled, pulling Molly towards him, and leaning into her. The two of them instinctively closed their eyes as the heat of their lips pressed together. Molly shoved him back, worried that she had jumped too fast. Egon stood still in confusion, staring back at her.

“What's wrong?” He asked. Molly took in a deep breath, knowing if she didn't say anything now then whatever came after this moment could be ruined.

“What—what about Janine?” She asked, feeling embarrassed to have even brought it up. Egon smiled, pulling Molly’s tearful face into his hands. Cupping her soft cheeks in his palms.

“Molly. Janine and I are long over. It's true that we were close. That at one time I had asked her to marry me…but despite how much we tried we just couldn't make things work—we are incompatible together.” He explained.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound sure.” She asked him, the hints of hope present in her voice. Egon smiled, finding himself laughing a bit at just how adorable a jealous Molly could be.

“I am sure…a couple can't make it work when they both want different things in life.” he explained. Molly listened, staring down at her feet. Shuffling a bit as she tried to bring herself to say what needed to be said next.

“Do we?” She mumbled; Egon barely able to discern her words. Molly, wondering if she had said them out loud at all.

“Do we what?”

“Do we want the same things?” she repeated. Her hands, coming to rest on the small of her belly. Egon’s eyebrows raised, knowing now exactly what she meant. He placed his hand over hers and smiled.

“Yes. Yes, we do.”

“Egon…” Molly began, the two of them moments away from sharing a kiss when the sound of someone approaching came upon them.

“Oh, shit Mol, here you are! Are you ok?” Sam asked her, inadvertently ruining the moment between them. She had managed to sneak away from the party and track them down. Figuring that Molly would run home.

“I'm fine Sam thank you, just tired and needed to leave. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the party for you.” She explained.

“Girl… no. You didn’t ruin anything. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Elaine and I are worried about you…and Seth…well.”

“LET’S…not talk about him.” Molly insisted, turning her sights to Egon. It was clear to Sam that with the news of Molly’s pregnancy, things between her and the new beau had suddenly become a lot more complicated.

“No worries… I uh…” Sam continued, struggling to find the words, when Egon chimed in.

“Listen, I should go. Let you get some rest tonight. I will be back to see you in the morning.” Egon assured her, realizing that Sam was going to be hard pressed to leave her friend after the night they’d just had.

“Yeah, I got it all taken care of Dr. Spengler.” Sam assured him. Egon smiled and turned to walk down the steps when Molly reached out and touched his shoulder.

“No wait… you don't have to go.” she whined, shooting Sam an annoyed look. Understandably upset at her friend for having dismissed him without her consent.

“It's ok, really. I will see you bright and early…after all we have a lot to discuss.” He said, smiling up at her. Molly couldn’t help but smile back. Her cheeks still flush from their kiss.

“Ok.” she lamented. Sam, nodding as she helped Molly inside the building. Egon returning home. His fingers tracing his lips, reminiscing in the memory of their kiss.

Molly awoke the next day with a slight headache. Sam still passed out on the sofa in the living room as she got up to make herself something to eat. Settling for a small cup of blueberry yogurt and a half-eaten granola bar, before sitting at her kitchen table. Her hand, occasionally finding its way to her stomach.

It was strange, knowing there was a child inside her. A piece of her and Egon with her even now while they were apart. Sam was even more surprised at the news. Telling her friend that her life was beginning to sound like something out of a made for TV film. The two of them laughed as they thought about how Elaine would respond to the news. Molly, never more excited to think that a family, a whole family, was in the cards for her after all.

She devoured her breakfast quickly, feeling quite ravenous after not eating much the night before. The sounds of her in the kitchen, stirring Sam awake. Her friend joined her at the small table. From the sour look on her face, it was clear she was feeling the effects of all her drinking at the party.

“Ah… I didn’t even have that much.” Sam groaned.

“You gonna make it?” Molly chuckled. Sam sneered at her as she felt her stomach twisting and turning.

“How is it you're the one pregnant and I'm the one who feels like she might puke?”

“Ha ha very funny.” Molly smirked. Casually glancing over to the clock to see that it was already almost 9am. “Shit… you sticking around for Egon? He will probably be here soon. He’s very punctual.”

“I can imagine.” Sam said with a raised brow, “So weird you’re having your boyfriend's baby without even having slept with him.” Molly’s face went bright red.

Well if you hadn’t come over last night that might not have been the case, Molly thought to herself. Only smiling on the outside as Sam managed to pull herself out of the chair and head back into the living room. “Where are you going?”

“I’m grabbing my stuff so you and Loverboy can be alone sheesh.” Sam said, rolling her eyes, “I want all the details later… I’m gonna head back and see how badly jacked the place is.”

“Ok” Molly laughed as Sam disappeared through the front door.

Egon had been tossing and turning all night. His eyes bagged and dark from the lack of sleep as he made his way into Ray’s Occult Books before heading to Molly’s. This situation had been kept close to the chest, Egon choosing to keep it all to himself before evolving anyone else in his affairs. With a baby well on its way however, the one person he had to tell was Ray.

He walked in through the back entrance, long before the store opened, to find Ray sorting through last month's books. Trying to find somewhere to scrounge up a few extra dollars to make this month's rent. The store had always been a passion for Ray, the only thing he had that was his. After the Ghostbusters went under and he lost all his money from the house, this was all that was left. Egon was always there to help whenever possible, but today he was the one who needed it most.

“Good morning, Ray.” Egon said, handing his friend a cup of coffee.

“Egon? What’s got you over here so early? Everything alright?” Ray asked him. It wasn’t like him to show up unannounced so early in the morning looking like something the cat dragged in from his lack of sleep.

“I need to talk.” Egon said plainly, taking a seat opposite Ray at the desk.

“Ok, shoot.” Ray said as he went to take a sip from his cup.

“I’m going to be a father.” Egon confessed, Ray choking on the coffee and making a mess of himself with the news.

“Is this a joke? Did Peter put you up to this?”

“No, nothing like that, I'm serious.” Egon explained, and from the look in his eyes Ray could tell he wasn’t kidding. Grabbing some tissues and cleaning himself off as he let out a sigh.

“Well, that's unexpected. I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. Who is she?”

“Molly.”

“Molly? The girl at the research lab?” Ray asked him. Though Egon was rather vague, he had mentioned her to Ray a few times. While Ray figured Egon had a crush on her, there was nothing Egon ever told him to think things had progressed as far as this.

“Yes… it's a long story.” Egon explained. Ray raised his eyebrows and nodded his head.

“I bet… Well then, I’m all ears.” he responded. Egon was grateful to have him to talk to. It didn’t take long to let Ray in on the chaos that had become Egon’s life. His feelings for Molly growing, then the accident at the lab, and confessing it all to Molly. Ray’s head had begun spinning with all that had happened in such a short amount of time.

“So you… you haven’t even slept with her?” he asked Egon. the normally deadpanned scientist blushing.

“I–ah, yeah that's right.” he confirmed, swallowing back as Ray shrugged.

“I mean hey shit happens. I suppose you’ll be making up for that though.” Ray chuckled. Egon looked unsure. “What?”

“Last night I may have accidentally announced the pregnancy to her entire friend group. We were at a party and...”

“Party? You actually went to a party… well now I know you love this girl. I can’t even get you to crawl outta the lab unless foods involved." Ray laughed, Egon nodding in agreement. It was clear to Ray that Egon had a lot to sort out. The feeling only intensified when Egon explained his mess up. Ray was compassionate of course, but let Egon know that he had definitely overstepped.

“Well, there is no going back now. All the two of you can do is move forward… I mean you’re gonna have a kid. Wait until the guys hear about this…” Ray said when Egon shot him a look, “...that is when you’re ready to tell them of course.”

“I appreciate the discretion, Ray. Listen, I have to go. I am supposed to meet with her this morning.” Egon explained as he stood up from the chair and headed back out the way he came.

“Go get her tiger!” Ray cheered as Egon reached the threshold, rolling his eyes as he disappeared from the doorway.

It was a chilly, however uncharacteristically nice day for this time of year in the boroughs. Egon had been walking along, so lost in his own thoughts that when he found himself at Molly’s building he had no idea how he’d gotten there. The last few weeks had felt so surreal that he could hardly think of anything else. He tried to shake off his nerves before pressing the button to ring her apartment when Sam came through the door.

“Oh! Dr. Spengler.” she smiled, barely missing running into him. Egon, smiling at her as he moved out of her way.

“Good morning, Sam.”

“She’s waiting on you…but uh don’t tell her I said that.” she laughed, Egon’s heart beginning to pound.

“I won’t.” he responded as Sam reached the sideway, turning back around as Egon started inside.

“Oh and Dr. Spengler…” she began as he turned back to face her. “Happy Halloween.”

“Same to you.” he told her as he walked inside. It was Halloween already, Molly’s favorite holiday. The thoughts of this time next year having their own little trick or treater had begun filling his mind. A baby to be born sometime in the summer, bouncing around as a happy chubby little thing dressed up as a little dinosaur, a princess, or maybe even a ghost?

The possibilities had filled him with joy. A feeling so intense that Egon thought he might burst. A kind of happiness he had never felt before and never expected he would ever feel. Knocking on Molly’s door with the imaginations of them together all dressed in costume for baby’s first Halloween still heavy on his mind.

“Good morning.” Molly said as she answered the door. Giving Egon a hug before allowing him inside. The two of them, sitting together on her small couch in the living room, both of them feeling the intention of being so close once again.

“How are you feeling?” Egon asked her as he brought his hand out to take hers. Molly smiled, bringing her own hand once more to her belly. It’s new favorite resting place just below her navel.

“We’re fine. No symptoms yet.” she giggled. The sound of her voice coupled with how beautiful she looked, sent Egon’s heart soaring. This gorgeous and kindhearted woman was going to be the mother of his child and as far as Egon was concerned, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m glad. I wanted to tell you Molly I am so sorry about last ni–”

“It’s ok, Egon. I’m over it. Let’s put it behind us ok… we have much more important stuff going on.” Molly smiled.

“Listen… What are your plans for tonight? After all, it's Halloween.” Egon smiled, Molly’s face turning to panic.

“Oh my god I completely forgot. I must be losing it.” she laughed. “I actually don’t have any other than the party last night… did you have something in mind?”

“Why don’t you and I head to the store and grab some candy and a bite for lunch. We can spend the day together talking… you know, getting to know each other better.” Egon explained. The idea made Molly feel more than a little excited. She had been wanting to be with him for so long and now with the baby on the way, things were almost perfect.

“And the candy?” she asked him.

“We can hand it out to the trick or treaters.” he told her, watching as she began to tear up, still smiling brightly as if she had never felt happier.

“I love that idea.”

Molly and Egon had spent the day together. Fighting the crowds at the store for all the other last minute candy shoppers. Molly, poking fun at Egon for devouring a bag of fun size crunch bars before they even made it back home. The two of them, dropping off the bags of candy before walking to a local diner.

Molly hadn’t felt like eating much, but Egon insisted. Reminding her that it wasn’t only herself that she would be nourishing with her club sandwich and side of fries. Molly, heeding his request as the two of them talked for hours.

Egon continued to apologize for his behavior at the party. Explaining to Molly everything between him and Janine. He wanted to be married, have children, move on in life and Janine was just not ready and he wasn’t sure if she ever would be. Eventually it was two much for the two of them to overcome.

Molly had felt so relieved, though also a bit guilty for feeling so. Quickly changing the conversation to other things. Eventually the two of them ended up getting kicked out of the diner to make room for other patrons. Laughing as they grabbed their coats and dashed out onto the sidewalk.

“So have you always wanted a family?” Egon asked her as they walked back to her apartment. Trying to continue their conversation they’d begun inside the diner.

“Ever since I was little…” she smiled, squeezing Egon’s hand as they walked.

“Can I ask something?” Egon inquired cautiously. Molly, nodding for him to continue. “Why someone like Seth? Someone like you could’ve been married and had a bunch of kids… why this idea with him?” Molly grew a bit quiet. It was an easy answer, though it wasn’t one she was sure Egon would believe.

“It just never happened for me. I mean I began to grow impatient. The dating scene here in the city is not exactly quality.” she laughed, Egon following along with her. “I just knew I wanted to be a mom and Seth, despite his behavior at the party, is a good guy.” Suddenly Egon began becoming a bit uncomfortable. Hoping there wasn’t something between them he had overlooked.

“Do you…do you love him?” he asked her, frightened to know the answer.

“I do, but not romantically. He’s a good friend Egon…that's all.” she assured him, taking hold of his face and pulling him down to kiss his cheek. “I—” she began, the words of love for her companion dancing on the edge of her lips when they reached the building.

“We are here.” Egon said, drawing Molly’s attention back to the present time.

“Oh, let me let us in.” she laughed nervously. The two of them, heading upstairs and pouring bag after bag of candy into a big bowl. Watching TV and talking away while they awaited the first sign of trick or treaters. Getting to know each other, little by little as the minutes turned to hours.

By the time the first trick or treaters arrived, Molly was well versed in Egon’s unconventional upbringing and he in her typical childhood experience. Both of them were equally fascinated by one another. Molly was practically begging Egon for more about his time as a Ghostbuster and his hopes for the future of his reach. The two of them, quickly turning their focus on their own future—one they would now share.

“Oh, my heart.” Molly said as she closed the door. Smiling with the thought of the group of trick or treaters that just left her door. Egon too couldn’t help but notice how adorable they all were. Dressed together as a little princess and a dragon. Mom and Dad, politely waiting behind them as they opened their bags for their candy.

“I wonder what our will be.” Egon said aloud, catching Molly’s attention. Realizing only then he had said it aloud.

“I think it's a boy.” Molly hummed, “Must like crunch bars like his Dad.” she continued, scarfing down one as the Egon started hungrily at her.

“I think you might be right.” Egon smiled.

“You ok.” Molly laughed nervously. Seeing her glowing, eating his favorite chocolate so happy and carrying his child had Egon’s blood swirling. Not only had he gotten to know this beautiful creature, but he had reached a point where he could no longer allow things to continue without making her his.

“I need to fix this.” he said in a low hum. Standing up from the couch to approach her.

“Fix what?”

“I can’t go any longer knowing you are carrying my child without… without having copulated with you.” he explained, pulling Molly close to him. Arm wrapped gingerly around her waist. The words and his forwardness, heating her cheeks and speeding up her heart. Pupils, dilating as he brought her lips to his, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate on her mouth.

“Me either…” she said breathily into their kiss. Before they knew it, the two of them were making a heated dash to Molly’s bedroom. A blur of clothing tossed to the wayside and the two of them felt desperate to be with one another.

“Are you sure?” Egon asked, hesitating a moment, already leaking. His cock now rock-hard at the sight of Molly laying naked beneath him. She was beautiful–his mouth watering at her ample breasts. Full and almost perfectly symmetrical, with taut pale pink nipples. He found it hard not to stare at her, analyzing every inch of her body. Every inch of her was perfection in his mind.

“I’m sure.” Molly said, raising herself up to kiss him once more. Tongues, tangling together as Egon’s hands went wandering over her. Caressing the soft flesh of her breasts as he kissed down along her neck. Leaving marks in brilliant shades of purple along her collarbone.

Taking his time before dropping to her breasts. Drawing the nipple into his mouth, Molly let out a satisfied sigh. His fingers tracing down the line from her sternum to her still flat stomach. Stopping a moment to remember that he already was inside her. Groaning, Egon decided he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to make up for his lack of pleasure in their child’s conception. His curious fingers traveling to the heat between her thighs.

As he slipped inside her, they both moaned. Egon was thrilled to know how much he excited her. His intellectual mind, reminding him that her wetness and warmth was directly correlated to her desire for him. His fingers quickly curled up inside her. Determined to find the right spot when Molly’s back arched up from the bed. Driving his fingers more in contact with the right spot.

“Oh fuck.” she moaned, as he pressed into the soft spongy spot along her upper walls. Making small, deliberate circles as he felt her began to clamp down on him.

“Oh Molly, cum.” he told her. Molly was writhing beneath him on the bed. Hands gripped tightly to her sheets as the sounds of her nails scratching against the fabric filled her ears. The fringe of her hair, sticking to the sweat on her forehead as she came hard against Egon’s fingers. Breathless and crying out his name.

“Egon! Ah!” Feeling the rush of wetness over his hand made Egon moan, heated and mad with desire. He knew that he needed to be inside her. Quickly pulling out his fingers to stroke himself before lining his cock against her sex. Allowing the tip of his head to kiss at her clit. Rubbing her with it a moment before he pushed carefully inside her.

“Oh you feel so good.” he groaned, filling her slowly. Her whole body, still shaking beneath him. Still engrossed from her orgasm. Though she was weak she was ready, Molly wrapping her legs around Egon to help draw him further inside her.

“Mmmm… oh…uh…” Molly cried. Her insides, pulling tightly along his shaft with every stroke of his hips. Crashing inside her over and over. The sheer pleasure of him filling her so completely, making it hard to press on. The two of them, both completely lost in passion and bliss.

Egon continued pumping, his hands grabbing hold of Molly’s hips as he pushed inside. Staring down at her as she kept her eyes closed. The look on her face, making him want to fuck ehr harder. The knowledge she carried his child, making him want to slow down.

Though he knew sex in pregnancy was not usually harmful, Egon could help but want to be careful. To protect her and their baby from anything that would dare harm them. Choosing to keep going with their safety in mind as he continued slowly, but deeply taking her.

It wasn’t long before Molly began shaking beneath him. Her legs, quivering and her moans becoming less coherent. Her core, squeezing him so tightly it caused him to mewl. Lifting her up on his lap so he could kiss her as he continued to thrust inside her.

“Oh Egon, yes… yes… yes!” she cried as Egon fucked up into her. Breast bouncing in his face before he began to kiss and suck on them. His own orgasm quickly made itself known. Once he felt her begin to pulse it was over, Egon cumming hard against the back of her. Spilling himself as she continued to rise and fall on his cock.

The two of them were so exhausted afterwards they collapsed beside one another in the bed. Egon pulled Molly over against his chest. His now lover, nuzzling against him as she began to waiver in and out of sleep. “Molly…” he began.

“Hmm?” she hummed, only half coherent enough to respond.

“I—” Egon said, wanting to tell her he loved her. Already he loved her and their child more than anything. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Molly responded, though it was clear to Egon she wasn’t awake enough to understand what he had said—what she was saying.

“Happy Halloween.”

“Happy…” Molly said, her words trailing off as she passed out snuggly against him. Egon wrapping his arms around her. Holding her close as she slept.

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grazieschillivera · 2 years ago

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Longing curses 2/5

-His persuasions-

Chapter Summary: After the little incident at the dueling club Tom has to start over to win you back. Now that he knows how the little dance of love works, he decides to not only show you how similar you both are but also shares a new secret with you

Word count: ca. 2000

Warnings/tags: some fluff (I guess), manipulation, making out

Some days went by. Tom could feel how tense you were again in his presence and he started to think about how he should show you that you were wrong. One afternoon Tom's studying got softly interrupted when a gentle laughter echoed through the shelfs. His head turned around in curiosity. He had never heard such a sweet laugh and his heart arched in a unknown way once his eyes found you. You stood there with a friend who just made you giggle and you suppressed the rest of it to not interrupt the other students further while you gave your friend a warm smile - instead of him, he thought. He was supposed to make you laugh, you should be at his side by now. Maybe you were right. He had to give something to get something, love needed commitment. True commitment, and Tom needed to find a way to share this with you without breaking himself.

✧ ⊹ I ✧ ⊹

A week later you had curfew again. Occasionally you would see some of the other prefects when your routes almost crossed.

,,Coffee?'' a voice next to you asked, making you stop in your admiring of the painting over the library entrance. The shadow next to you was easy to recognize. Unsure you looked down at Toms bottle.

,,Its safe, see. Helps with the tiredness'' he said while he held the bottle in front of you after he had taken a swallow.

,,Thanks'' you said when you took it from him. Your gazes were still locked.

,,You can trust me. I have every book I want. But I want to go inside to show you something'' he said. You drank some of the coffee and even though it was welcomed, your lips still curled down due to the bitter taste. Or maybe because of the offering Tom gave you.

,,I'm not interest in you showing me whatever you have in mind'' you said handing over his drink.

,,You don't mean that. I fear you misunderstood me last week. Give me another chance'' Tom said and made a step to the library’s huge wooden door, but you blocked his way by standing up in front of him.

,,I'm very clear with my opinions. You're just as cunning and self-serving as your friends, you don't care about others and just want things your way'' you said.

,,If I am all those things, then why do you think I had invited you to the club? Like it or not but I'm not the person you want me to be. In fact, I think you are scared to look at me without your assumptions. Thinking if you don't keep those borders up, you will get lost between them'' Tom said, showing you that he didn't lose his confidence despite your little argument some time ago.

,,Don't think of me as so stupid. I might suck in dueling but I'm not beneath you Tom! I know what I want. In a different world I would be a win for you.'' you said and tried to make you a bit bigger to meet his eyes. His relaxed smile really frustrated you.

,,Of course you would be. Thats why I like you. Me and you could be something special. Is my motive still so self-serving now?'' he asked still standing before you but not in an intimidating way you noticed. More like a friend who tried to talk you out of something harmful.

,,Well yes. After all I'm not interested. And I still have your little secret about you letting your friends sneak out during curfew. I will tell Professor Dumbledore tomorrow if you don't let it be Tom'' you said but not as sternly as intended.

,,Using our shared secrets as blackmail – who is cunning now? Seems we aren't so different from one another after all'' said Tom but you did not join his amusement.

,,No we are not. I follow rules, I treat people equally.'' you said confidently, knowing Tom had nothing in his hands that could harm your reputation.

An unsettled cry reaches your ear and you stop.

,,Thats in my wing'' you said and walked back upstairs. Tom followed you.

✧ ⊹ II ✧ ⊹

,,Its curfew. What are you doing here?'' Tom asked before you could.

A girl sat on a bench and wiped her tears from her cheek. She muttered something about her ex boyfriend and how she couldn't get back into her dorm, because he and his new girlfriend were there. Tom showed less interest in her excuse. With big steps he approached her to bring her to her head teacher.

,,Tom wait'' you said and walked in his way.

,,Its against the rules. Easy as that Y/N'' said Tom. Even though he didn’t care about the girl he still found himself very thankful of this lucky coincidence.

,,My wing, my understanding of the rules Tom'' you said, trying to not make a fool of yourself considering what you just had stated about your loyalty to rules. The way you said his name added more fun at his persuasions. Up to now it sounded always like a warning call but it would soon fade into something more suitable for his expectations.

Eventually Tom gave in and promised to accept your wish.

,,Please don't'' you simply said when your eyes met Toms again when you walked back.

,,I'm not judging your actions. Why should I? But since you are so keen to keep your reputation, you gave me a new secret. And I would like to trade it for a little favor. Just as you did'' said Tom, enjoying this feeling about giving you a taste of your own medicine.

,,Back then in the Pub I explained to you how getting to know someone works. I never thought you would misinterpret it so wrongly'' you said already knowing that you would go inside the library.

Tom lazily defended his actions, he already was occupied with other things in his mind but he played along for you.

,, You're sure this is a good idea. I'm not used doing such things'' you said silently, when you sneaking closely behind Tom, even though he had politely held the gate of the forbidden area open.

,,You'll be fine just stay quiet''. Tom took hold of your hand and walked confidently along the corridor, as if it was his wing that you walked in.

Due to the moonlight the bookshelves shimmered whitely when you passed them. You could only hear your own footsteps and it felt like Tom and you were somewhere completely else.

✧ ⊹ III ✧ ⊹

,,Sit down. I will be right back'' Tom said softly like he knew you needed someone to calm you down a bit. After all breaking rules made you still feel uneasy. He pointed to a bench that stood between some bookshelves from where you could look at a huge tapestry that showed the founders of Hogwarts. The air was cool.

Tom came back with a huge old book. On it laid a smaller one, that he took beside him. He tested the waters and asked you somethings about the founders. You both started to talk about it freely enjoying each other’s knowledge.

,,I have a next secret I would like to share with you. You Hufflepuffs can be trusted right?'' Tom said, his lips almost formed a grin. He seemed to suppress a feeling. Was it confidence? Or was it out of tension?

,,Sure I wont tell. Promise'' you said with a low voice prepared to stay open minded but carful.

For a moment you both shared in intense look. It was as if Tom wanted to read you despite your promise to be trustworthy. It crossed your mind that your odd friend fought an urge within him. But you couldn't really tell what it exactly was.

At first he kept his usual practical attitude he had whenever he talked to someone. Only the last part started to sound strange. For one second you thought it wasn't Tom who talked to you but then you figured, that this person was the actual Tom, or at least another part of him you hadn't seen until now:

,,Since my researches I finally understand myself, what I am, what I am capable of. I read everything from him, one day I will know all his secrets'' Tom said.

After am moment of silence he started to talk about the relationship Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff shared in their lifetime. Loudly he questioned how they could share such a good bond, that was so infamous in Salazars diary, then he looked at you. Although he didn't mention it, you could sense what he thought after his last words. It made your stomach twist. But was it out of fear or curiosity?

You said that you are not the heir of Helga with a chuckle and that you don't live for this amount of pathos in your life. But it was useless, Tom saw something great within you. You couldn't change his mind and I a strange way you realized it did something to you. Being praised and called for the things you did so dearly. So you decided to also open up for him because that was what this night was about. Tom had decided to be honest instead of cunning. He was one of the good ones, it was clear to see for you.

A bit shy you brought a book out of your robes pocket and presented an article that shows your family, who has a little reputation considering healing potions and herbology. It was almost like an unspoken law since the accident in the club to keep your distance from Tom but something made you break it.

You shared your story- that the glory vanished because your parents and grandparents had different interests, and that was completely fine for you. No one should practice something that made him unhappy. Nevertheless, you like it to sometimes research about your family from those better times. You found an ancestor of your father fell in love with someone very smart and they both ended up starting the little glory of you family.

,,I understand you, I do the same sometimes. Having a look in the past can give some orientation for what can be possible. Its like looking in a twisted mirror.'' you said still a bit lost in your memories about your family. After your words there was a cozy silence in the room. Being here didn’t feel forbidden anymore. It felt comforting.

,,I like this thought.'', Tom admitted showing his approval. You looked back at him and gave him an honest smile.

Now you knew what Tom searched for in life, and he knew what you searched for in a partner. And suddenly he became not only the keeper of your secret but also the answer to it.

With your permission Tom read some phrases out of Salazars diary to you and you started to get lost in the way his voice sounded so softly and his eyes now and then flew away from the lines and lingered on you. The words that held such a dangerous ambiguity couldn't reach your mind anymore, it was directed to Tom and the feeling he started to give you. At some point his hand had reached out for yours, he softly pressed it before using his words again.

,,I respect your values. Actually, we are quite similar Y/N. The difference between us is that I'm willing to prefer some people over others. Thats passion, isn't it? When there is this one person who outshines the others-who is simply more important'' he said and led your hand carefully to his lips to savor the feeling of your skin on them in such a way that your cheeks turned hot.

While you had the feeling that you and Tom melted into each other, Tom had the impression to finally wrap you around his finger, now you fell in love for him as well. At this moment you could only see him. Those not so beneficial values of your house would just vanish over time if you devote yourself truly to him. He would take care of it, and of you.

The hold Tom had on your arm stayed while his lips caressed your skin of it, carefully testing how close you would let him be.

,,You can't treat everyone the same Y/N.'' said Tom. He suppressed his satisfaction with you, who finally started to think, that you and him were possible. That only your mind was in your way of happiness.

,,And you don't want to treat me just as everyone else. Whenever I read about Salazars past, I see us. Just give it a taste Y/N'' added Tom close to your face after he had shoved you softly closer against him.

Slow and deep beats of your heart pounded against your and Toms chest, he was so close to you, he could feel how you were. If he couldn't see your pleading gaze, he had thought you planed on running away. But you weren't. Your mind told your body to stay still, Tom was finally in your head. To reward you, he pressed his lips against yours and felt how you fought against your last insecurities, while moving your lips shyly against his.

Patience, was all Tom had to remind himself of. Not only towards you. He realized despite his lust for you, that he was also in some way shy about this new form of intimacy. Still he would keep the control of it for you.

,,Doesn't this feel right? You feel so good Y/N. How can you ever deny us something so good again?'' Tom asked between wet kisses, that grew hotter the more he got lost in the feeling of your sweet lips and tongue that tried to keep up with his pace. It only made it harder for you to answer Tom, who demanded it.

But your shy nods and 'yes's weren't enough for him. Within minutes Tom had pulled you on his lap. His hands caressed the soft skin right underneath your breasts while his lips were attached to your neck to get every little moan out of you, that you tried to hid. You were in a library after all. But now fully consumed by this new ecstasy you moaned every answer out of your mouth he wanted to hear from you.

You looked down at Tom's eyes. They were so dark and yet so clear, that you could see yourself in them. And while you eyed this new side of yours, you also observed how Tom seemed to experience the same with you.

The moment felt so unusual intense that your hands searched for Toms as a comfort, that were still around your ribcage. Before some fitting words of luck could be formed from your lips, Tom pressed his lips against yours again. It felt all so good your mind kept running and your heart beat so fast that you felt like a star that could explode. So you just made him stop.

Back on your spot on the bench you tried to study his feelings. For a second some kind of hurt crossed his frowned faced. Was it love that he wanted or was this just a trap you were naive enough to have fallen into for a brief moment?

,,Have you done this before Tom? Because I have not'' you said, your voice faded a bit away- you were unsure whether to feel pride or guilt.

,,Does this matter? It's what people do when they want I each other. And I only want you if this is what you want to know'' Tom said his last words with a secure smile, his hands brought you to his mouth before he gave them a kiss.

You were back at the same position where you just had started to fall for him again. But now something has changed. Something told you that he was meant to be yours and you were meant to understand him, to love him- because he had allowed you to do so. And Tom belonged to those people that rarely allowed such things- so this means he loved you truthfully, right?

,,We have seen each other’s true self now and we seemed to enjoy it'', said Tom now silently hoping to at least earn a nod from you. ,,Don't back away Y/N. Give it at least a try''. His hand that had held yours on the entire way back wouldn’t let go of you. Carefully he kept his grip around it.

So you nodded. Later Tom brought you to your common room offering you an invitation to a dorm party to give him and his friends a chance to show you, that you and your feelings would be safe with him.

#tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x oc

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leonenjoyer69 · 10 months ago

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hey do you know abt the drama magicalmo is causing rn abt u?

I'm sorry for u, stay strong! Internet drama is a total bitch tbh don't let it get to you.

Yes, sadly despite having him blocked I'm quite aware. I've mainly just been ignoring him hoping that he'd get burnt out on his little hate crusade but the accusations he keeps pushing are genuinely fucking sick and disgusting.

Reminder to never pity him guys! Made that mistake myself, let him on my server as a second chance thing because I knew he was so widely hated, and guess who made everyone on there wildly uncomfortable and got himself banned after exploding at two of the members? Not to mention the fact that he had a mole on my server after getting banned to get that "damning evidence", so fun times guys.

That NSFW channel he keeps yapping about has been long gone, and nothing worse than that spoilered smut concept (you know, the one screenshot he keeps sharing, where the worst word is bloody "arousal"), on the optional channel, was ever shared. Truly it was my mistake, I had felt horrible making that category in the first place, but some of the other members requested it, so. I suppose I also made the mistake of seeing a public discord server as something akin to Tumblr, since literally everyone on there followed me on here anyways, and I know damn well have seen and shared worse things on here. But, alas, apparently discord is a different breed, and that I now know.

And the rest of his yapping? Fucking disgusting. The fact that he keeps implying that I have or would do such vile things is literally sickening, and I know every single person on that server would come to my defense because I've done fucking nothing wrong. The genuine defamation is literally crazy. All I wanted was a community and friends, and that's what I have- great friends, who are supportive and kind, and friends is all they are.

Okay, ranting over, thank you for your kind words :3 it does mean a lot to know that so many people are supporting me and defending me. Honestly, i am slightly glad it's me taking the hits over some of the other folks he's had stupid beef with in the past, none of my friends deserve to be dragged into stupid fake drama, and based on their reactions to all of this, apparently I take it far more calmly than them lmao.

I just don't want issues man, just wanna share my silly stories and characters and have people enjoy and talk about them to me. And thankfully I do still have that, I just have one persistent little hater throwing rocks at me from the corner, which is ironic when you compare what he's done to the genuine mistake I did, but hey, an eye for an eye and the whole world goes blind, Ill be the better person.

Apologies for dragging my blog down with this, but rest assured more art and rambles will bring it back up soon, thank you again for the ask and you're kind words :3

#answered asks #stupid ass drama post ugh #wow look at me not putting this in the tgs tags #thats crazyyy #okay ill stop being an asshole now lmao #my ramblings

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devoutgirl · 2 months ago

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how to accept that this is just life for us emotionally intelligent girls, and how then to live alongside this acceptance instead of merely existing, bearing its weight, allowing it to consume you?

when i say "emotionally intelligent", i do not intend to sound arrogant. you know i don't mean it in that way. i use the term only to loosely condense a tangle of qualities too difficult to unravel; introspective, tender, perpetually questioning ... yet sly enough to recognise the means by which all of this must be hidden; an impenetrable guise so established it becomes a second skin.

and when i say "us" emotionally intelligent girls, i suppose that's wishful thinking. because to tell you the truth, i've never felt more alone. i feel as though i function on a level either entirely above or entirely below others. i exist on a perfectly unique wavelength, drifting silently across my own vast ocean.

maybe i'm just naive. or self centred. maybe everyone else does have this incessant flood of thoughts. have you all found a way to quieten them that i am not yet aware of? do they exist inside you too? it seems unlikely. you all look too happy. how i envy the bliss of a peaceful mind. how exquisite that must feel.

in my life, sporadic moments of happiness are perpetually tainted by my knowledge of their evanescence. i cant remember the last time i was truly happy. the last time i abandoned myself to the feeling. thought to myself "yes, i have known pain. and i will know it again. but presently i know only happiness". because i do not exist entirely in the present. instead, the past and future infiltrate every aspect of my life to the point that, alongside the current, i am living them both simultaneously. it's exhausting. that's why my every emotion is inextricably linked. that's why in my world, there is no happiness without sadness.

surely not everyone else is living this reality alongside me? would we not talk about it more? would that not help? maybe i have a superiority complex, and in actuality i'm entirely unremarkable. maybe my mind is merely a cog - dull, standard - revolving in a machine running the same programming on repeat, alongside millions of other cogs to which this monotonous grind is merely a fact of existence. in accepting they're powerless against it, they devote their focus to fuelling the machine instead of dreaming about what exists outside of it.

thats a stupid metaphor, sorry. i sound so affected its excruciating. unfortunately i know no other way to express my emotions. maybe this is just the way i am. it'd make a valid explanation as to why i have no friends. i'm not sure i could put up with myself either. god i hope i don't come across this way in real life. i'm starting to worry that i am, at my core, inherently unlikeable. a few of my favourite people blocked me without explanation recently. that really knocked my confidence. i know i shouldn't get so hung up on such petty things. generally, i have a very good life. i know that. but the external isn't the issue, its the internal. my mind is poisoned, and no matter where i run to, a dark liquid clings to the back of my throat, cumulating at my eyes and ears, swallowing all of the sound and light in my life.

sorry. again with these ridiculous metaphors. i almost want to laugh.

there's no anecdote for these feelings. i've tried reaching out to people in my own way .. subtly, softly, quietly. i'm shut down almost instantly every time. people never seem to hear what i'm saying. truly saying. my words are too elusive. and directness requires a certain bravery that i don't have in me. my own self-consciousness hinders my every interaction. i think thats one of the main issues in my life at the moment.

hey, maybe that's somewhere to start. i could read some books on it. change my habits. finally conquer my insecurity instead of constantly feeding it. and deep down i already know what needs to change: i need to start being unapologetically myself, sharing my opinions even when they're unique, practice honesty (i particularly struggle with this one), comfort people wholeheartedly, cry in front of people more, drink and dance in front of people more, be loud about literature, hand out intimately annotated copies of my favourite books, give good gifts, speak from my soul, wear what i love ... essentially just free myself from the countless burdens this world unloads onto us. but how to do this? unfortunately, this raises a new problem. i feel that only by achieving extreme physical beauty may i establish enough comfort in this body to express its inner world. i worry that no one will take me seriously otherwise. and it is here that my struggle with insecurity is reborn, only it takes on a different form.

so basically i'm at a loss. and that entire 'revelatory' paragraph was utterly futile. and i'm left with no choice but to suppress these feelings instead of overcoming them. so i need to distract myself this summer. this starts tomorrow. i will stop excusing myself from plans. instead, i will just say yes. in fact, i will not only accept invites, but be the one to offer them. at the moment, i only ever try to make plans in the evenings, when the distraction of the day's activity subsides and the full weight of my depression begins its ascension. normal people are in bed at this time, some alone, others together, all of them content, watching movies or talking or laughing. they don't want to walk an hour to the park and smoke until they're dizzy. they don't want to talk about the books they likely haven't read. so i do it alone. all i want in life is someone real. but does this person even exist outside of literature?

i desperately hope so. maybe i should just embrace this sadness. live alongside it instead of in constant evasion of it. i don't know. but whatever my decision, i just want someone to share it with.

honestly, i secretly hope that someone i know finds this blog. and one day when we're alone together they admit it to me, tenderly. and instead of questioning me, or comforting me, they just smile softly and say, "i feel it too, erin.

i feel it all too."

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