#I've read 8 out of these 14 books

[biromanticbookbabe]

I know this is a bit belated, but here are my yellow books for Tuesday. :) 

I liked the one cover color per week day idea. So I went ahead and did a bunch of these photos of all or most of my books with those specific color covers. Each day has it’s own color. Monday was blue, as I posted a few weeks back. 

Once all the posts I planned come out (I’m doing one a day this week until Sunday), I’ll do a post that links the whole project together probably sometime next week? Until then, I hope you like seeing my colorful book collection. 

[blissfullyecho]

March 2023 "That Girl" Challenge

Helloooo :)

This is the 31-Day Challenge that I've created for us to do together this month. It's just something simple and fun. Enjoy! - BlissfullyEcho

——————————————-

DAY 1: Deep clean your living space (bedroom, apartment, house, condo, camper, etc)

DAY 2: Deep clean your car (if you don't have a car, deep clean something else that you haven't done but should do: junk drawer, dresser, yoga mat, makeup brushes, etc)

DAY 3: Try a new (healthy!) recipe-- this could even be a healthy dessert or beverage

DAY 4: Try a guided meditation on YouTube for 10 minutes after waking up and before checking social media

DAY 5: Spend an extra 15 minutes working on something for school, work, hobbies, or your own personal development

DAY 6: Unfollow, delete, and block social media accounts and phone contacts that are just not part of your life anymore (or those who you plan on not having as a part of your life anymore)

DAY 7: Delete social media pictures that don't fit in with the best version of you. This could be the overedited photos, the thirst trap you put on there because that one person made you upset, etc.

DAY 8: Try a new workout that you haven't done. Pilates, ballet, barre, tennis, CrossFit, kickboxing, F45, cycling, running, swimming, etc.

DAY 9: Pamper your pet. Brush, clean, trim their nails, give them treats, etc. Go above and beyond for them today. (If you don't have animals, pamper yourself today!)

DAY 10: Enjoy the sunshine. Go outside (wear your sunscreen, sunglasses, and a hat) for 15-20 minutes and enjoy your own company and nature.

DAY 11: No phone 30 minutes before bed. Set your bedtime tonight, and set an alarm 30 minutes prior to that. Once your alarm goes off, put your phone on DND and read a book before bed. Read until you are tired enough to turn off your lights and sleep.

DAY 12: Watch a documentary about something and learn! Maybe it's something you've never had an interest in. Just please make it positive! No heartbreaking or tragic documentaries. Let's not invite that into our "That Girl" challenge.

DAY 13: Buy a self-care item. This could be a yoga mat, face mask, cleansing oil, the Bible, perfume, etc. It can be as expensive or inexpensive as you'd like.

DAY 14: Go out on a date with yourself. Take yourself out to do something you've never done/been to before.

DAY 15: Aim to drink at least 60oz. of pure water today.

DAY 16: Spend 30 minutes learning a language you've always wanted to learn (and if you love it, practice for 10 minutes a day afterward)

DAY 17: Turn your notifications off.

DAY 18: No social media today.

DAY 19: Do something creative today. Buy a canvas, paint, and a brush, and follow a Bob Ross tutorial; maybe buy a jewelry-making kit. Take today and be creative for at least 30 minutes.

DAY 20: 10,000 steps OR walk for an hour

DAY 21: Go through your finances and see where you can budget. Take this time to audit your subscriptions and see if you would like to cancel any recurring subscriptions to save you extra money each month.

DAY 22: Avoid eating animal products today. Just focus on whole grains, fruit, veggies, nuts, seeds, water, and vitamins.

DAY 23: Schedule any doctor appointments you might have. If you don't have to, then take today to create a to-do list for the next 3 days.

DAY 24: Spend some time deleting pictures and making storage space in your phone. Any way you can-- it doesn't have to be from deleting your photos.

DAY 25: Listen to a new podcast or TedTalk.

DAY 26: Check your credit report/score and see if there's anything you need to do/complete.

DAY 27: Clear your email inbox and unsubscribe from the companies you don't shop from anymore.

DAY 28: Touch up on your resume.

DAY 29: Sort through your closet and throw away, donate, and sell your clothes and shoes that you don't wear (and that you know you'll never wear again)

DAY 30: Sort through your bathroom drawers and cabinets and organize them.

DAY 31: Create a vision board for April.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (18)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n resolve their feelings. wc: 3k A/n: You have no idea how happy I am being able to write fluff after seventeen parts. SEVENTEEN. Only happiness from now on (which isn't much because sadly there are two parts left)

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

THE FIRST THING she became aware of was the constant noise ringing in her ears. The soft hum of the room greeted her as she slowly drifted into consciousness. Feeling slightly disoriented, she blinked her eyes open, adjusting to the muted light filtering through the half-closed curtains as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Hospital. She was in a hospital. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as a sudden wave of panic threatened to engulf her, but then a gentle, calm voice cut through her confusion. Her gaze shifted to the side, and relief washed over her as she spotted Spencer sitting on a nearby chair, engrossed in the book he was holding.

For a moment, she observed him—the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the strands of hair that fell across his forehead, and the intensity in his eyes as they traced the words. His soft-spoken tone was soothing, and after a moment of listening to him, she realized he was reading the book aloud for her.

"...and with that, Sherlock Holmes deduced the mystery, much to the amazement of Dr. Watson," his voice filled the room, and she couldn't help but smile faintly at the choice of literature. She shifted in the bed, and the quiet rustle of sheets prompted him to look up from his book.

"Hey," he greeted softly, placing the book on the bedside table. "You're awake."

She responded with a nod, accompanied by a small, appreciative smile. "Sherlock Holmes, huh?"

"I found a copy in the waiting room. Someone must've left it," he explained. "Thought I'd borrow it before giving it to Lost and Found."

Her gaze lingered on the tired lines across his features. "And you decided to read when you could have slept?"

"I wanted to be here when you woke up again."

A soft smile adorned her face but her brows twisted into a frown as she registered his words. "Again?"

"You've been in and out of consciousness." He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "The doctor said it's common among patients suffering from dehydration."

Her frown deepened, and the weight of the situation began to sink in as she processed his words. Her fingers unconsciously traced the edge of the thin hospital blanket for comfort.

"Is Eric..."

"He's injured, although not fatally. My shot wasn't aimed for anywhere vital," he explained, shifting his chair closer. "But he's in custody. You're safe now."

Relief washed over her, but a flicker of fear remained in her eyes. "I don't remember much after what happened."

"That's understandable," he said gently. "Your body and mind went through a lot. It might take some time to process everything."

She managed a weak nod and her eyes traced the outlines of the IV line snaking into her arm. "How long have I been here?"

Spencer glanced at the clock on the wall, his brows furrowing slightly. "About a day."

"A day," she repeated, the concept feeling both distant and immediate. The realization settled in and a pause hung in the air before her gaze shifted to him again, seeking clarification. "As in twenty-four hours?"

His face twisted into a frown, uncertainty clouding his features. "...yes?" he replied, unsure where she was going with this.

"And I've been sleeping for most of the time?"

"Well... yes."

"And you? How much have you slept?" When she was met with silence, her expression softened as her eyes took in his weariness. "Why are you still awake, Spencer?"

He sighed, a conflicted expression crossing his face. "I just... I didn't want to leave your side."

She studied him, her eyes tracing the lines of exhaustion that clung to his face. Deep lines etched across his forehead and the shadows underneath his eyes spoke volumes about everything he endured. The fading bruises, the slouch in his shoulders, and the tousled strands of his hair all painted a picture of someone who had weathered more than their fair share.

It was evident that even the hospital room had taken its toll on him, and the subtle change into a fresh shirt was his small attempt to regain a pretense of normalcy. But who was she to judge? Here she was, lying on the bed, all weak and worn out. She couldn't deny that she, too, must be presenting a less-than-picture-perfect image.

With a gentle sigh, Spencer eased into the chair beside her bed. "How are you feeling?"

She took a moment, assessing the sensations in her weakened body. The dull ache in her limbs, the lingering throbbing in her head.

"Like I've been hit by a truck," she finally responded with a smile, trying to ease the tension. But his head suddenly seemed to be elsewhere. He absentmindedly nodded, and it was clear to her that something was on his mind.

"Hey," she spoke softly. "What's wrong?"

He looked up, meeting her eyes, and she waited for his response. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally found the courage to speak.

"I'm sorry."

Confusion clouded her eyes. "For what?"

"For... everything." He let out a sigh. "For hurting you, for not being there when you needed help, for not realizing what was happening sooner. For not seeing the signs."

She shook her head. "You can't blame yourself. You were there when it mattered, and you saved me."

"But I should've protected you from the start," he insisted, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "I should've stayed with you—"

"It's not your fault. Don't apologize for something that he did."

"But I could've prevented it from happening if I didn't leave your house in the first place."

She studied him for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Look, if you're going to keep on apologizing, might as well do it in comfort." She shifted over on the bed, making room between them. "Come here."

His gaze flickered between her and the mattress. "I'm not sure that's allowed."

"What? Do hospitals have a policy against sharing a bed with visitors?"

"Well, technically—"

"Spencer," she interjected. "Just lie down with me. Please."

He hesitated for a moment, but after a brief internal debate, he relented, deciding that being close to her trumped any hospital regulations. Slowly, he settled onto the bed, careful not to disturb any wires or machines. But then she suddenly sat up and Spencer frowned. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Outstretch your arm."

"What?"

"Outstretch your arm," she repeated.

He followed her instructions, and she laid back down, resting on his arm. As she nestled against his side, he couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through him. He simply looked at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement when she kept pressing herself against him. His hand instinctively fell on her waist. "What exactly are you up to?"

"Testing a theory. I read somewhere that lying on someone's arm can regulate their heartbeat and help with stress. And given your guilt-ridden apology, it seems you could use a bit of stress relief." She then settled a hand over his chest. "But it doesn't seem like it's working, your heart is beating really fast."

He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks as her fingers traced gentle circles over his chest, the warmth of her touch sending ripples through him. "Well, you're lying unexpectedly close to me, I wasn't exactly prepared for that."

She laughed softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Just... try to relax. You've been through a lot too. You don't have to hold yourself together for my sake."

He slowly nodded, letting himself sink into the moment with her. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest against his side, the gentle pressure of her hand over his heart. But guilt still rippled through him when he studied the weariness in her eyes, or the IV line sticking into her arm, or the bandage wrapped around her hand. He hated seeing her so weak that he couldn't help but blurt out another apology.

"I really am sorry."

She shifted slightly, turning to look at him. "I know you are."

"I wish I could have done more to protect you," he continued.

She reached up, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from his face. "You did what you could with the information you had. No one could have expected what happened."

He sighed, and she continued to trace gentle lines across his face as they fell into a comfortable silence. But much to her dismay, it didn't last long when he suddenly interrupted their moment. "I... I have another apology."

She was the one who let out a sigh this time. "What is it now?"

"I..." he hesitated, searching for the right words as his eyes wandered around every corner of the room but on her. "I-I want to apologize for being rough on you that day when we... when we—you know."

She raised an eyebrow, amused at where this conversation was heading. "You mean when we had sex?"

He nodded and diverted his gaze away from her, looking slightly embarrassed. She laughed and cupped his face, forcing him to look back in her direction. "Why are you suddenly so embarrassed?"

His cheeks flushed a shade of pink as he met her gaze. "I'm not used to discussing these things so openly, especially when I feel like I mishandled the situation."

Her laughter softened into a warm smile. "Spencer, we were both in a difficult place that day, I wouldn't say you mishandled anything." She leveled her gaze on him. "I trusted you. I knew you weren't going to hurt me, which you didn't, and I can assure you that I enjoyed the sex very, very much."

"But I-I tied you," he insisted. "I used handcuffs on you. Handcuffs."

"Well, did it ever occur to you that I liked being tied? That I like it when you're in control?"

He studied her, and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he fully registered she was being serious. "You do?"

She chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. "Yes, Spencer, I do. I thought it was very obvious." She gave him a smile, fingers tracing soothing patterns on his cheek. "But if it makes you feel any better, we can come up with a safe word."

"What's a safe word?"

His brows furrowed in confusion, prompting her to burst into laughter. She couldn't help but find his innocence endearing.

"It's something you say to stop or slow down during sex, especially if things get uncomfortable or overwhelming," she explained, her laughter subsiding.

"Oh," Spencer said, a hint of realization dawning on his face. "That makes sense."

She nodded, still smiling. "So the next time we explore our sexual needs, we can use our safe word."

There was a pause before he murmured, "Next time?"

Her smile faltered at his question. "Do you not want a next time?"

Noticing her sudden withdrawal, he placed a hand behind her, pulling her closer to him. "I want there to be a next time," he confirmed and sighed in relief when he felt her relaxing again. "You know, I just want to spend more time with you in general."

Her smile returned, warmed by the sincerity in his words. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I want to take you to dinner."

"Dinner sounds lovely."

"And take you out on a date."

Her smile widened. "What kind of date do you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking of the museum. Or maybe the library." Then his eyes lit up with a hint of excitement. "There's also this planetarium I've always wanted to visit. Did you know that the planetarium nearby has one of the most advanced digital projection systems? It's supposedly a state-of-the-art projector that can simulate the night sky with incredible accuracy."

A genuine smile graced her lips. The excitement in his voice brought a sense of relief to her. It wasn't just a reaction to his enthusiasm about their planned date, but also the subtle transformation in his demeanor. He seemed more relaxed.

"That sounds amazing." And just because she couldn't stop herself from flustering him, she added, "But the real question is, will there be sex in this future date?"

Spencer's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Stop teasing me."

"I'm serious," she laughed, thoroughly enjoying his momentary discomfort. "I want to know what I'll be expecting."

He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I guess... If you want to, then yes."

"Of course, I do, but I want to hear it from you." She grinned when he gave her a pointed look. "Spencer, you've given me more orgasms than I can count, why is it so hard for you to say the word sex?"

Spencer shook his head, attempting to brush off the embarrassment that lingered. "You're unbelievable." 

Despite his attempt to resist, there was a subtle twinkle in his eyes that betrayed the amusement he couldn't fully conceal. A reluctant smile stretched across his lips, and he finally conceded, "Yes, Y/n, we will have sexual intercourse in the future."

She laughed, the sound echoing in the room. "How romantic."

Her teasing expression softened into a warm smile, and Spencer couldn't help but be captivated by the warmth in her eyes. Feeling a surge of affection, he gently pulled her closer. There was a subtle shift in the air. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she nestled into his embrace. But it was hard to fully linger in his arms when her IV line seemed to be getting in their way.

"Hold on, I think I have to turn around," she said, her fingers tracing the thin tubing connected to the IV. Spencer released his hold. "I should probably get off the bed."

"Don't you dare," she threatened, and turned to the other direction gracefully, adjusting herself without much difficulty. Once settled, she pressed her back against his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her again.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

She nodded, a contented smile on her face. "So much better."

Spencer held her a little tighter, and somehow, his hand found its way to hers, softly intertwining their fingers. He held on to her as if he didn't want to let go, as if the simple act of holding her hand offered a sense of grounding in the aftermath of everything that had happened. And with a contented sigh, she leaned back into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. She reveled in the moment because life had taken them through twists and turns, and yet, here they were—finding solace in each other's company. The warmth of his hold enveloped her like a protective shield, and for a fleeting moment, the worries that had weighed on her seemed to dissipate.

Gratitude swelled within her—a deep, heartfelt acknowledgment of this moment, of being alive, and of the shared embrace that grounded her to the present. 

"Hey, Spence?"

"Hmm?"

Her fingers gently traced over his hand, still intertwined with hers, savoring the connection that seemed to defy the odds. "Thank you for staying with me."

She felt a reassuring squeeze from his hand.

"I'm here for as long as you need me."

"Don't you think this is a little too much?"

Garcia threw Morgan a glare as they walked down the hospital corridor, her heels echoing in the narrowed space. Her eyes then shifted to the balloons in her hand, the container of freshly baked cookies she made in the other hand, and the bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers dangling from Morgan's arms.

"She deserves a warm welcome after what she's been through," she countered. "And it's my first time meeting her in person, I can't come empty-handed. That's so unlike me."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, sure, but we're just visiting. It's not a party."

Garcia huffed. "I believe in spreading happiness wherever I go. And besides, who wouldn't want flowers, balloons, and delicious cookies after being stuck in a hospital bed?" She looked over to the rows of the door down the hallway. "What room did Reid say she was in?"

Morgan glanced down the corridor lined with identical-looking doors. "Room 108."

Garcia led the way, her heels clicking purposefully as she cradled the balloons and cookies with a determined air. Morgan followed, still holding the bouquet, and couldn't help but shake his head at Garcia's unwavering commitment. As they approached the door, she paused to adjust her cookies and then knocked lightly on the door, only to be met with silence.

She turned to Morgan. "Do you think she's asleep?"

"I don't know." He pulled out his phone and tried to dial Spencer's number, only to be met with a constant line of ringing. "He's not answering."

"I think we should just go in."

Morgan hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement. Garcia took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open, stepping inside. The room beyond was dimly lit, with the curtains drawn, followed by the soft hum of medical equipment filling the air. It seemed like an ordinary hospital room, but what seemed out of place was the sight before them.

Because Spencer lay on the bed with her, both peacefully sleeping.

"Oh my god," Garcia gushed, stepping further into the room. “Oh my god.”

Morgan couldn't help but wear a surprised smile. "Well, that explains why he wasn't answering his phone."

Garcia carefully placed the balloons at the foot of the bed and Morgan followed behind her, setting the bouquet on the bedside table. She then motioned for him to place the container of cookies there as well before she held her hands together, watching the scene before them. "This is like a scene straight out of a romance movie."

Unable to contain her excitement, she took out her phone and snapped a discreet photo of them. Morgan shot her a disapproving look, but she just waved her hand dismissively and whispered, "It's for the memories."

"Come on," he insisted, grabbing onto her arm. "Let's leave these two to rest."

"One more picture!"

Garcia's voice echoed in the room, and Spencer stirred in his sleep. Morgan and Garcia stilled for a moment, holding their breath. They waited for another second, and thankfully, the couple seemed to be too deep in slumber to hear the commotion in the room.

Morgan gave Garcia a pointed look. "That's enough, Garcia. Let's go."

"Give me a minute,” she lingered. “Let me take one last video."

Morgan shook his head. He took her phone out of her grasp, ignoring her protest, and finally dragged her out of the room—leaving the two lovebirds behind.

>> NEXT PART

a/n: that last scene is kind of a bonus, I just thought it was cute

.

taglist #1

@tereresrock @casthings @vader-is-hot @maevethelesbian @whereintheworldisspencerreid @reidverseq @niyahwhoreworld @l4venderia @theintrovertedthespian @lovelyxtom @tayzerr-72 @mulbsstuff @dorothleah @stevenknightmarc @prettyboyspenceee @gracesmusings @kalulakunundrum @fearlessmoony @r5court @simp4f1 @thecrazytealady @nyeddleblog @ghostheartbeat @comfortzonequeen @iiheartbowie @busy-buzzing @imtherealslimmoony @baeofevery @elamultistan @lyxennz @additi @donttrustlove @notahappystan @daisiesfor-mylove @pinkpantheris @jamieeboulos @thegeniusreider @bxtchopolis @kr-1-sta @emotionalsassqueen

@cowstealer427 @thollandsdarling @ghxst-heart @cashtons-wife @kyuupidwrites @you-sunshine @comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore @panic-monster @marimorena06 @alice-ace299 @uncle-eggy @bollzinurmouth @julezs-bl0g @ruhrohragu @eternally-passionate @kazuumii @spencerr3idd @withered-rxse @broken-pieces @siredtomsgilbert @kaiya3333 @furiousbanditnickelknight @pinkangelavenue @slay-and-gay @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @zeysartzone @frxcless @sadroses98 @luvmgg @sky2nd @jamiemuscatosslut @rorylover71 @comeonatmebruh @frgtmenotes @universallyblizzardlove @driven-insxne @evvy96 @navs-bhat

PLEASE READ: If you already asked me to be added but you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched or I can't tag you. Or if you want to be removed you can also tell me. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[pb-dot]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

@kaiarchives tagged me in this game that I haven't had the pleasure of seeing before, so that's exciting. The rules are: Answer the 15 questions and tag 15 of your mutuals.

1. Are you named after anyone?

No.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last Sunday. I don't think it was for any particular reason, I just had a headache and was feeling down.

3. Do you have kids?

No.

4. What sports do you play/have played?

I played a bit of a football as a kid and a bit of volleyball for school. I also did range shooting in my tween years.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Quite a lot. I've been trying to cut back and be a bit more genuine, but my habit for being sarcastic and my generally low moods have given me a bit of Resting Bitch Voice, so people don't always pick up on it.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Facial shape I think. Before I learn someone's name I generally remember them by the shape of their jaw and cheeks.

7. What's your eye color?

Blue, but it's a kinda greyish blue.

8. Scary movies or Happy endings

I like scary movies with happy endings. Give me protagonists who face down with the worst of humanity or the nasties of the world and come out alive and swinging, if not a bit traumatized.

9. Any talents?

I'm told I have a way with words. In general I don't believe in talent in the "innate skill" way though.

10. Where were you born?

Oslo, Norway.

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, movies, video games (mostly strategy and roguelikes,) I used to sing in a choir and I kind of want to get back into that.

12. Do you have any pets?

No. Haven't really had the opportunity to, but I'd like to get a dog someday.

13. How tall are you?

178 cm, so... what, 5'10?

14. Favorite subject in school

Language and it's not close at all. Social Sciences as a second place I suppose.

15. Dream Job?

Author. Give me a way to live from writing and I'll churn out books at a brazen clip. It might drive me crazy, but it'll be worth it.

As for the tags: @frostedlemonwriter @shay-puppitty @longwuzhere @indigostudies @an-elegant-void @mjjune @marlenadutch @fire-but-ashes-too @meerawrites @sparrowrising @silverslipstream @floweryprosegarden @the-secondborn-of-seven @chishiio @a-had-matter

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

mutual 1: sorry the update for my webcomic this week is a bit late! i really had to rush it so it prolly looks really sloppy lol [some of the most sophisticated comic art ive ever seen]

mutual 2: call me uterine lining the way astarions cervix got me bleeding profusely

mutual 3: do you think nanowrimo will give me a posthumous pity publishing deal if i mention it in my suicide note

mutual 4: okay fine i finally started revolutionary girl utena

mutual 5: does columbo know the service he did for butch lesbians. for all of us

mutual 6: wish you were here [blurry picture set of conifer woods in early autumn evening, taken as if frantically running down a winding trail]

mutual 4: im pretty hardy i dont need the trigger list but thanks for looking out for me guys

mutual 7: good morning lovelies another day the wizard tried to best me and another day i successfully locked him in the spare bathroom lol hope u like drinking shampoo fucker

mutual 8: here is a zip of every yuri manga scan i have and here is a backup in case i get dcma'd. the himejoshi lifestyle will never die

mutual 9: i wish i could go back in time to the shinzo abe assassination and ask to hold the doohickey

mutual 10: here's my essay on how wanting to be loved is the same as wanting to be eaten. three paragraphs in you'll find out that this is 100% tied to an obscure beauty and the beast manga i've been reading lately and how much i want to fuck the beast

mutual 4: oh thats why there was the trigger list.

mutual 11: YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN THIS BATHROOM FOREVER

mutual 12: why do i have to defend my thesis to people i dont even respect. im not dickriding you just give me the degree

mutual 13: its just me and this scab ive picked into my scalp against the world

mutual 14: my little dragon got glazed and is ready to go into the kiln! everyone wish him good luck!

mutual 3: nvm i am a beautiful genius. perhaps the most beautiful genius of all

mutual 15: i think we should give david lynch rpgmaker and whatever happens happens

mutual 16: kpeyboaatrds brpokem gpuys

mutual 17: also heres my work in progress glossary of mixtec words! i still have a long way to go but i love being able to preserve my roots even in this small way

mutual 4: i just finished the black rose arc. question: what

mutual 18: i need emet-selch to be my wife

mutual 19: i need glados to be my husband

mutual 20: visited the ocean today!!! <3 beach pics!!! there is a darkness growing within me

mutual 21: the forms for my legal name change came in. pls vote in this poll of what my middle name should be: Dill Pickle (Dickle for short), Optimus Prime, Tumblr User Gorgonicteratologist, Smeve

mutual 22: just finished my 100th book of the year! this weeks read was the uses of enchantment by the psychologist bruno bettelheim,

mutual 23: reeses penis butter cups lol

mutual 4: i need to hunt akio for sport

mutual 24: oouugghhrgh. hot. dog.

mutual 25: your favorite character or fictional other would want you to brush your teeth and wash your face so you're well rested and wake up feeling refreshed! make them proud!

mutual 26: being a delivery driver isnt the worst job ive ever had but i do keep wondering what itd be like to drive off into the wild blue yonder one day and not come back

mutual 27: weird dog? [phone picture of critically endangered stork]

mutual 28: i think the two phone line polls in front of my house are having a lovers tryst. no way to prove it tho

mutual 4: WHAT

mutual 29: while you bitches are balduring your gates or finalling those fantasies im doing what a REAL gamer does. playing a b tier rpg that came out in 2004 for the 18th time

mutual 30: ^ real. hamtaro ham ham heartbreak is a masterpiece of interactive art. im not even going to call it a video game at this point

mutual 4: THAT'S HOW IT ENDS?! ANTHY?

mutual 31: can you help me pick which drawing looks better: 34% overlay or 36% soft light?

mutual 32: new video essay out. its called disability in video game narratives: final fantasy 14's most reliable fault. i churned the script out over an all-nighter and my mic crapped out halfway through but by god i did it

mutual 33: my new zine bundle is out! if you buy it you also get a discount on all my game jam games! i really cant wait for you to play them!

mutual 4: yall should watch revolutionary girl utena

[eddies-house]

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Smoke Signals

Chapter Twelve - The Holiday Season Begins

W/C: 8.7K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

"I've got my eye on you."

Say Yes To Heaven - L.D.R

A/N: Wow I think this is the longest I've gone without posting a chapter. I really hope you guys enjoy this one. I wrote it in bits and pieces and read it over several times. I would really really really love to know what you think, this one is so special and personal to me.

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Sugary apple goo.

You think back to Thanksgiving back home, a ruckus constant in the kitchen as dinner is prepared, more than enough food to feed an entire village.  Pots and pans clank together, trays create an echo as they are not-so-carefully placed atop the counter.  Dinner rolls are burned but still enjoyed with warm cinnamon butter.  The potatoes are a touch too lumpy but still desirable with notes of rosemary and an ungodly amount of garlic.  Various smells, both sweet and savory flood the house, your poor, stressed out mother churning out dish after dish, siblings all engaged in some kind of ball game out in the street just after watching the Thanksgiving Day parade.  

You tend to the green bean casserole, an easy dish that you couldn’t screw up even with your limited attention span.  Cream of Mushroom soup from a can seemed so repulsive in itself although it brought the whole dish together.  It didn’t matter that seconds prior it slumped against the green beans still in the shape of the can, nearly gelatinous.  Once stirred in and baked with crispy onions layered over the top, it was a masterpiece.  A five star dish in your book.

It would only be a matter of time before grandma showed up with her famously delicious apple pie, the crust coated in extra amounts of grainy sugar, the dish still piping hot.  And the “sugary apple goo” as you used to call it at the age of three already had your mouth watering just thinking about it, crispy apples so fresh and topped with syrupy caramelized sauce topped off with cinnamon and nutmeg, all wrapped up in a flaky, buttery crust.  

You sigh, piling the apple mixture on top of the homemade graham cracker crust.  It wasn’t clear to you just how lonely Thanksgiving morning would be without anyone around.  Sure, you had Donnie’s to look forward to this evening but until then, you were on your own, the parade quietly playing on the TV though you hadn’t been very impressed with the floats this year.  Holiday depression was kicking in, a kind you hadn’t experienced yet.  They were usually always a happy time, family surrounding you and distracting you from the lonesome thoughts you usually had.  This year it started feeling more like a ton of bricks was sitting on your chest, no one able to aid in providing you with some kind of task such as the honor of making the green bean casserole to ease the pressure.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t just make the controversially delicious dish, you had everything stashed in the pantry.  It just didn’t feel right.  It went unnoticed by you that tears were slowly sliding down your cheeks until a fat one landed on your wrist as you finished spooning the apple filling.  

Again?

In that moment you swear you looked the most pitiful you had ever looked in your entire life, tears trailing down your face silently, all alone, homesick.  You should be in your pajamas playing some kind of a board game on the coffee table in the living room, surrounded by your siblings.  Not throwing yourself a pity party while spreading apple goo.  To top it off, your hands had gotten completely covered, the sauce making your fingers undesirably sticky.  You hadn’t quite reached the point of sobs yet though you suppose if you let the goo linger on your hands any longer you would.

Some comforting folk music your grandpa used to play religiously rang through the house though you felt no such comfort.  Not as much as you’d hoped anyway.  It brought a familiar sense of his essence to you, his passing three years ago not settling right in your heart.  It only made you more homesick.

But you weren’t going to let yourself soak in salty tears and sticky apples.  No, you washed your hands in soothing warm water, the sludge sliding right off and into the metal of the sink, eyes puffy and red but void of tears for the time being.  You’d sucked them back and changed the music to something more upbeat, some Elvis that your grandpa had also engrained deeply into your brain though you hoped the faster tempo would brighten your spirits and ignite the happy memories.

Only, it landed you on the couch in a whole new sea of sobs this time as Unchained Melody lingered in the lonely room.  There was no getting a grip on the gut-wrenching, stomach-aching isolation you were feeling, sanity was long gone.  You were supposed to be trimming the dough that was meant to create the criss cross pattern for the pie, you were supposed to be enjoying your glass of wine as you sang under your breath to familiar tunes, you were supposed to be okay.  

It was you, after all, who had made the decision to move, right?  It was you who picked up your entire life and plopped it right in the middle of some unknown mountain town in search of yourself.  You feared that you were just losing yourself instead, forgetting just after a few months what it felt like to be surrounded by loved ones, forgetting how it felt to come home to a full house after a grueling shift at the local Denny’s.  You smelled of burnt coffee and dry eggs, your hair greasier than the literal grease trap, but none of that mattered the second you stepped into the coziness of the living room, all family dysfunction left at the door.

The tears wouldn’t stop though you still managed to force yourself off of the couch, wiping snot away with the back of your hand as you stared at the messy kitchen in despair.  Everything suddenly seemed so…impossible.  How were you meant to do anything while simultaneously questioning your entire existence, your entire meaning of life?

You had been in such disarray that cleaning up as you went didn’t even seem close to an option, nearly every pot and pan either set on top of the stove or thrown in the sink, whisks and spatulas scattered among the mess, and apple skins littering the floor.  Now you were taking in the aftermath, not even having the finished product to show as an excuse for the complete disaster, even the dough still rolled out on the cutting board.  You had hours left to prepare though it felt like seconds ticking by to inevitable disappointment.  

The end of the world felt like it weighed down on your shoulders yet you did what you did best each time.  You set it aside and pressed on.  It was never simple, weak hands grasping the dull knife, slicing through the dough to create uniform strips.  Motivation was running dry, the desire to grace everyone with the most delicious apple pie they’d ever tasted was out the window, you could only do what your body allowed.

And like every other time you had to pull yourself out of the gutter.  Life began to bleed back into your eyes as your creation came back to life.  Puffiness still remained throughout your face, eyes still droopy but slowly your drive kicked back into gear.  Sniffles from previous snotty tears continued but nothing felt better than laying down the last layer of dough over the apple filling, a quest conquered.  

Finishing off your cheap red wine, you reward yourself by licking off the spoon you’d used for the filling.  The kitchen still required a good scrub down but you could live with the mess a little while longer as you indulged in the sweetness.  Something well deserved.  You didn’t even want to think about the nightmare that Christmas was about to become, decorating your tree with only the company of your dreaded thoughts.  That was a scenario you were not willing to wander into, at least not until it would actually happen.  There was no sense in making yourself live through it twice, your brain longing to torture you with irrational possibilities.

Elvis’s voice continues to carry through the living room, a second glass of wine being poured in hopes of easing your homesickness, attempting to neglect thoughts of what you would usually be doing right now.  It was barely working, only leaving you feeling slightly lazy with a good layer of sadness still looming over you like a storm cloud.  There was no extinguishing the sorrows you felt for familiarity and the comfort the holidays were supposed to bring you.

Sudden knocking sends you into a brief panic, unexpected guests were not in the cards for your lonesome morning that had only served to encourage your crybaby tendencies.  At the very least you got a pie out of it.

The knocking persists as you scramble up from your depressing divot on the couch, a certain urgency waving over you at the speed of the knocks.  They were rapid, quick pecks at the wood, a worrisome speed that usually constituted an emergency in the end.  

Why today, why now?

With a heavy sigh, you swing the door open, glass of half-finished wine in one hand while the other runs down your drained face.  You expect some kind of eviction notice; god knows why since you own the place.  Maybe the check hadn’t reached the mortgage company, maybe it had been intercepted in transit.  The last thing you expect on your doorstep is a wide-eyed Eddie cradling a large bowl in one arm.  His gray sweatpants swallow his legs and hang low on his hips, a sliver of his tummy on display in between his t-shirt and pants.

It’s conflicting.  Do you act concerned and start begging the questions:  Did something happen?  Who’s injured?  Or do you exhale in relief as a tiny smile tugs at the corners of his mouth even in his somewhat distressed state?  It can’t be that bad if he still finds it in himself to smile, right?

“I, uh, I need help.”  He says sheepishly.

Ever since the night of the hoedown, he’d been a new kind of shy with you.  You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t adore it because truth be told, big bad Eddie Munson who previously chewed you out for being so bashful was now getting a taste of his own medicine.  Except you had been much kinder than he initially was, though it was fun to tease him and force his face to turn a vibrant tomato red.  

“Help?”  You smirk, swirling your wine as if you were some kind of connoisseur.  “My, my, how the tables have turned.”

“Bambi.”  He groans, still maintaining focused eye contact with the wood planks of your porch.

“Eddie.”  

It’s said so softly, in a way that reduces him to a puddle, his knees could give out at any moment if you so much as looked at him a certain way which had been why he refused to catch your gaze.  He internally curses himself for automatically counting under his breath, unable to stop himself: one, two, three, one, two, three.

In an instant your face falls, he only ever counted when he was stressed from what you could gather.  It was a learning curve, navigating Eddie’s quirks.

“Hey.”  You soothe, gingerly grabbing his wrist with your free hand.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”  

His curls bounce with a shake of his head, his eyes fluttering shut.  The counting stops but he still comes across as fuzzy.  Disoriented.  

“Come inside.”  You whisper, gently tugging him through the door, your wine abandoned at the entry table in the process.  “It’s freezing out.”

Instinctually he hands you the bowl he’d been cradling close to his body with a wooden spoon sticking out.  Upon further inspection, a mountain of mashed potatoes-or should you say lumps of potatoes are piled up within the bowl.  The skins are still intact, way too many if he intended to make smooth and creamy potatoes.  They’d be much less than enjoyable in the state they were currently in.

“I fucked them up.”  He whispers.

The sight you’re met with is that of a small child in a grown man’s body, his large eyes pleading.  You’re forced to realize that today may very well be much worse for him than it is for you.  He’d warned you that he didn’t do holidays and here he was, a nervous wreck turning up on your doorstep in a panic with lumpy potatoes.  And suddenly you felt so selfish.

“That’s okay.”  You assure him, tracing a tender thumb over his bicep.  He looked so lost.  “Eddie, it’s okay.”  You repeat with a nod.

“I just, I was gonna buy something from the store, and then, I just thought–I dunno maybe I’d at least try.”  He tugs on his curls, a bit too harshly for your liking.  “I don’t know why I even tried.”  He sighs in defeat.

It’s enough to break your heart.

“Eddie.”  

Turmoil flashes in his eyes, stress apparent in the way his brows furrow and his frown lines grow deeper.  His lips are red, most likely bitten, and he can’t stop twisting one of his rings around his finger.  He looks to be as much of a wreck as you felt although the symptoms seem to be much more apparent in his appearance than yours.  Your slightly swollen eyes were nothing compared to his tousled curls, anxieties littered across his face and trembling hands unable to be subtly hidden without the crutch of sleeves.

“I, uh, I-I shouldn’t have bothered.”  He mutters, reaching for the door.

You intercept him, your hand wrapping around his elbow while you attempt to meet his eyes.  He freezes in his escape, your touch rendering him paralyzed, your fingers suddenly too determined in digging into the meat of his arm.  Not meanly.  Never meanly.  More concerned.  Concerned for the way he cowers away the second he’s offered any fraction of help.  Perhaps it’s hypocritical of you to regard him with such worry when you yourself present the same behaviors under the same circumstances and expect no such treatment.

Your expression offers a certain softness that he’s come across one too many times since you’d barged into his life and taken his heart hostage.  You’d never know you committed such a crime.  And he’d never outright tell you of the ache that sat deep in his chest that he had no clue how to satiate.  All he knew was that he could not jeopardize this.  If he could get through the holidays, if he could get to January and you were still around, then, and only then would he be convinced that he had finally lifted whatever fucked up, out-of-this-world curse that had haunted him all his life.

“It’s okay.”  Barely above a whisper, you assure him.

Eddie doesn’t remember making his way into your kitchen, he can’t recall your delicate hand pulling him along until you let go to discard his potato concoction onto the counter and he realizes he’s taken the warmth for granted in a haze of existential dread.  Like a lost puppy, he stares at your fingertips as they linger on the counter while you lean over to reach for an empty casserole dish.  The entirety of your kitchen cabinets had thrown up all over the counters, a reflection of the way his brain felt.  Scattered.  

“Potatoes are actually super complicated.”  

His ears perk up, unsure of how to conjure up a response.  Instead, he raises his eyebrows, fearful of how dumb he could make himself look with just a few syllables.  It wasn’t like him to care so deeply what others thought of him.

“That’s why I avoid them.  Instead–”  You turn around only to pull out a can of green beans and a can of cream of mushroom.  “-work smarter, not harder.”

Eddie knows he should be hanging onto every word you say and usually he would be, he knows.  Except he can’t help but tune into the melody of Blue Christmas that had been echoing off the kitchen walls from your record player across the room.

The damn record player.  And the records.

He didn’t realize how much the records still affected him.  He had his own collection now, sure.  But anything that resembled the essence of his Mama, lived safely and soundly on its dedicated shelf in his room, untouched.  It took him years to rebuild Mama’s collection.

“Sorry can we-”  He makes his way toward the record player, his face contorted nearly painfully before lifting the needle.  “I just-I can’t think.”

Your motions were paused, can opener halfway through the can of beans as your eyes meet him with questions splayed across your face.  You don’t ask them.  An understanding smile works its way across your lips and god, he doesn’t know why you’re so patient with him after he stepped into your house and suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to shut off your music.  As he strides back into the kitchen, a series of apologies haven't even left his mouth and yet-

“So…Green Bean Casserole.”  You state, fingers tapping against the tin of each can.  “And Sugary Apple Goo.”  A vague gesture toward the uncooked pie.  “Kind of a…weird duo.  Or it will be if I actually get it in the oven-”

“Sorry, what?”  

“Apple pie.  The apple pie.  At home we just call it sugary apple goo, don’t ask why it’s just–it’s just a thing we do.”  You clarify, shoving the dessert into the comforting warmth of the oven, shivering at the sensation as goosebumps begin to prick your skin.

“Apple goo.”  He repeats.  A raised brow disappearing beyond his messy bangs.

Eddie almost forgets the reason why he’d been in such disarray, almost forgets why he even bothered knocking on your door in the first place, only remembers the fact that he was in a panicked state.

“Yeah.”  You sigh.

You busy yourself with slopping the now drained green beans into a nearby glass bowl.  Your blotchy skin and puffy eyes catch in the stream of sunlight, the kitchen window betraying you as it showcases your true state.  Avoiding those large brown eyes is the best you can do, the theory that if you can’t see him he can’t see you dumbly being put to use no matter how aware you are that it makes no sense.  Maybe if you act “okay enough”, he’ll chalk it up to the common cold, placing the responsibility for your rudolph-like nose on the yearly infection.

What you fail to realize is that by this point, he’s become too familiar with your teary eyes and sad worry lines that only seemed prominent in your times of distress.  Times that he had regretfully been the cause of previously.  Words can’t escape his practically sewn-shut-mouth, all sounds dying long before forming on his tongue.  It’s impossible to create comfort when he himself has trouble doing so for himself.  How could he possibly offer such comfort to someone who deserved kinder words from someone of a higher regard?

“Here, dump this in and mix.”  You instruct, forcing a can of cream of mushroom and a wooden spoon in his hands, yanking him out of his mind.

There’s no room for protest, not that he even intended to.  Not when you’re standing there with the ghost of tear tracks down your cheeks.  Not when you’re this kind.  Not when you’re you.  

“Okay.”  He mutters, a disgusting sound filling his ears from the lumpy soup falling into the bowl.

“After that, pour it in here.”  You place a ceramic casserole dish to his right, the dish nearly too large to fit on the cluttered counter though you’re too occupied with tidying up other parts of the kitchen to bother.

“Got it.”

Eddie Munson absolutely hates Thanksgiving.  But he doesn’t mind it so much when you’re rustling around behind him, a silent conversation hanging in the air that neither of you are alone in your holiday sorrows, whatever they may be.

You don’t ask why he continues counting under his breath behind you or why his hands are shaking.

And he doesn’t ask why tears linger in your eyes or why you pause to regain your composure after dropping a pan a bit too loudly for your liking, your lip wobbling.

Because the collective understanding is that neither of you is okay.  And maybe that’s okay.

–

“Careful, the bottom is–”

“Shit!”

“-hot.”

A ringed hand waves around in an effort to rid it of the burning sensation caused by the bottom of the piping hot casserole dish.  Eddie releases a series of curses, the side of the dish pushed against his chest as he balances it between his body and his single arm protected by one of your generously donated dish rags.  Your wide eyes caution him in his balancing act, a perfectly crafted green bean casserole at risk due to his negligence as he had taken the liberty of knocking on the door.

“What the fuck, how can fuckin’ beans be so goddamn hot?”  Brown eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, his fingertips more than likely singed an angry red.

It’s no laughing matter, not according to the scowl that makes its way across his handsome features but you can’t stop the pull of your lips from forming a large grin, giggles caught in the back of your throat.  His irritation disappears just as quickly as it came, harsh edges blurring into softness at the sight of your puffed out cheeks, inflated due to the humor just dying to crawl out of your mouth.

“Oh, shut up.”  A nudge of his shoulder against yours has you shaking your head, laughter finally escaping your perfectly glossed lips.

He could write paragraphs about them if it didn’t seem so creepy and stalkerish.  So he allowed himself the tiniest of glances, only hoping to paint the full picture in his head ever since you’d quickly puckered your lips in front of your mirror at home to complete your finishing touches while he viewed from the porch where he waited in his black button up and nicest pair of jeans.  He’d never been so jealous over a tube of lipgloss.  In fact, he’d never in his life been jealous of a tube of lipgloss and he never felt like more of a loser than in that moment.

“I told you.”  You mutter, an endearing side eye delivered right into his line of sight.  It was something almost child-like, something innocent and not at all like what he’d ever really been on the receiving end of.  Maybe because there was a certain flirtiness you were hinting at although he was no expert and had no right to assume.

“I told you.”  He mumbles back with a higher pitch, mocking you.

You turn toward him, a comeback on the tip of your tongue when his own tongue interrupts with a taunt, peeking out between his lips swiftly, his nose scrunching up meanly before his full attention is back on the door as it creaks open.  And then, a quick wink that only you yourself were a witness to, only creating a stir in your brain as you decipher that no one else would be able to confirm the action.

“Hey!”  Donnie greets, arms flung up in excitement as she ushers you into her welcoming home, smells infiltrating your nose, sweet and savory galore.

Before either you or Eddie can even get a simple “hello” in, she’s talking your ear off, something about who all is already in the living room, how far along the turkey is, where the bathroom is, all while guiding you into the spacious dining room.  She must have set out her fine china, the gorgeous dishes set all around the table lined with champagne colored silver on the edges of the plates.  Two tables had been pushed together, creating enough space for the large number of guests expected.  In the center sat an exquisite arrangement of various orange-hued flowers and some greenery.  

The house was comforting; not too large and not too small, a two story dream that no doubt had acres of backyard.  The Christmas tree had already been set up and decorated, the branches and lights hinting at you from the other room where men roared with laughter, a football game blaring from the TV that contrasted with the familiar voice of Frank Sinatra coming from the stereo.  Combined turkey and Santa decorations adorned the interior everywhere you glanced, surfaces that would usually be empty year around were occupied with tacky little figurines that were more endearing than anything.  Plastic garland traced the rails of the stairs, littered in fake plastic cranberries, the front room being far more grand than your entire home as you inspected it through the archway of the dining room.

Suddenly your nerves were simmering down, a familiar feeling nestling into the bottom of your chest as your shoulders fell from their tensed position, your fingers letting up on their grip on the pie tin you clutched so desperately.  Women squealed from the kitchen, a series of “oh my god”s erupting into the rest of the house, some kind of juicy gossip initiating several gasps as well as some laughter.  Your homesickness began to lie dormant, warmth overtaking you as Donnie went on and on about her family members, which ones to avoid sitting next to at all costs and warning you of the aunties that would corner you and beg for details on your love life.

“Just pretend I’m calling you and run as fast as you can in the other direction.”  She advises.  “And if that doesn’t work, tell ‘em you had too much wine and that it’s making a reappearance.  They’ll scatter like flies.”

You laugh along, taking mental notes as she grabs the pie from you, complimenting the smell as she sets it among several other desserts, a whole table dedicated only to sweets.  When she goes to grab the green bean casserole from Eddie, you can’t help but pause and watch as his doe eyes trace his surroundings, a clearly unfamiliar environment to him.  There’s uncertainty dripping from his demeanor, his single finger tapping against the dish:  One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.

“Green bean casserole-Eddie, do you know how many green bean casserole we’ve got?  Like you all read each other’s mind, I swear.”  Donnie jokes.

“It’s-um, it’s hot.”  He cautions her.

Sauntering toward the main table, Donnie proudly sets it on top of a place mat to protect the wood from the heat.  Eddie doesn’t budge, seemingly glued to the carpet, his hands still lingering in the air like he had still been holding the dish.

“You okay?”  You mouth to him, looking up into his worried eyes, only hoping to soothe the crease in between his eyebrows.

He nods though you suspect he’s being a bit dishonest.  

“Oh, c’mon Eddie!  You know I’m just pullin’ your leg.”  Donnie reassures, a heavy hand falling against his shoulder.  “Shoot, I have to go check on the oven.  Yell for me if you need anything, both of you, okay?”  

“Sure.”  You mumble.  “Thank you.”

“There’s a fully stocked bar right over there, help yourselves.”  She calls as she backs herself up toward the kitchen.  “But don’t go too crazy.”  She sends a knowing glance, recalling both of your tendencies to take on more than you can handle.

“Why don’t we get some air?”  You suggest, unable to comprehend exactly just what was happening in Eddie’s mind although you knew enough to understand that he was miles outside of his comfort zone.

“No, no.  I’m good.”  A cleared throat doesn’t reassure you enough but you let it go for the time being.  Prying wasn’t going to help.  “”M gonna get a beer.”  He murmurs, chain jingling from his belt as he makes his way toward what you can only assume is the kitchen where Donnie had just disappeared to.

As pathetic as it seemed, you weren’t going to allow yourself to wander around alone, vulnerable to various conversations trapping you in small talk with strangers: an absolute nightmare.  Timidly, you follow behind Eddie at a safe distance, holding your breath as you take in the new room full of busy women and many glasses of wine.  The smell of gravy heavily lingers, a tinge of the sourly sweet alcohol peeking through as you release your breath and inhale finally.  

And then-they were all over him.  Sweet older women, ranging from around fifty plus years, all doting on him, cooing at him while complimenting how tall he is and his handsome features.  It only forces you to lean your hip against the counter and take in the most captivating scene you’d ever witnessed.  His cheeks redden, his entire face matching shortly after as he nods in response, small “thank you”s sneaking past his lips with a sheepish grin threatening to spread across his face, dimples prominent.  It’s clear he doesn’t know what to do with the attention, has no recognition of the power he currently holds.

“Is this one yours?!”  One woman shrieks, taking your hands in her bony ones.

“Oh-”

“You’re so lucky, he’s such a looker!”  Another chimes in.

“We’re not-”

“You better hope he holds onto all that hair throughout the years.”  A third nods.

Eddie’s face has never been redder, crimson painting his usually pale skin, a beer pinched in between his fingers as he avoids every single eye in the room.  You can only imagine the look on your own face, maybe slightly mortified with a hint of pink pulling at your cheeks due to the unnecessary attention.

“Alright, alright.”  Donnie interjects.  “Enough, you’re gonna scare ‘em away before they’ve even had a bite to eat!”  She waves her hands around, dramatics on full display as she shoos them away like pigeons.

“Thank you.”  You whisper, eyes large and surprised.

“Run, run.”  Donnie displays wide eyes, gently shoving you both out of the kitchen.

–

Throughout the evening, you kept Eddie in your peripheral.  Sure, he was grown and fully capable of taking care of himself but it didn’t worry you any less when holidays weren’t necessarily his favorite thing.  Anxieties lurked in the back of your mind the second he started counting earlier, never once fading away no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that he was fine, now bantering back and forth with Sam.

“That Steve kid really can’t dance.”  Nathan laughs, pulling you back into the initial conversation you were having, perched on the couch with a glass of wine set in front of you on the coffee table courtesy of Donnie’s excellent hosting skills.

“Well that’s why he excused himself off the dancefloor.”  You softly smile, earning another hearty laugh from the man.

“Hey, but Eddie’s no better.”  He jokes, taking a swig of his beer.  “Looked like a damn giraffe stumbling over his own legs.”

“I wasn’t very coordinated either!”  You defend.  “We were a hot mess.”  You bury your face in your hands.

“Yeah, I bet Eddie thought you were hot.”

The recliner adjacent to you creaks beneath Jett as he makes himself comfortable, slouching with a beer in his hand.

“Whoa.”  Nathan leans forward, ready to reprimand him.  “What-”

“That’s okay.”  You speak softly, your hand covering the older man’s as an act of keeping the peace, something you did best.  Several seconds of contemplation and a glance across the room toward Eddie change your mind.  

“Actually-it’s not.”  You turn your body toward Jett, a man–child before your eyes that refused to even look at you after his comment.  Your hands shake and your cheeks heat with embarrassment, chalking your sudden confidence up to the glass and a half of wine you indulged in.  

“What?”  Jett furrows his brows, examining his beer far too aggressively as a means to avoid you.

“It’s not okay.”  You whisper, a wimpy excuse of a defense.

“What’s gotten into you, boy?”  Nathan scolds through gritted teeth.

Jett’s nearly-black eyes resemble something opposite in comparison to the warmth in those across the room currently harboring a twinkle in an engaged conversation.  The boy is unable to get a word in as you quietly begin to address him.

“Look, I’m sorry if I did something wrong.”  You regret the tremble in your tone, confrontation was well out of your comfort zone, especially with someone who had been so hostile for no reason.  It wasn’t in your DNA to be the “bad guy” even when it would benefit your wellbeing.

Something in your words softens Jett’s eyes, pulls a piece of him back into reality.  You weren’t terrorizing him and he couldn’t seem to grasp that ever since that night you had argued with Eddie behind the bar.  And you hadn’t spoken a word out of line but you weren’t clueless.  Clearly he had an agenda against you and Eddie, it never left your mind since Eddie mentioned that Jett got all over-protective suddenly that night and took it out on him.  But what could you do when all he did was puff out his chest rather than have a decent conversation?  His frayed emotions were not your responsibility, you owed him nothing if he was going to insist on acting like a toddler in adult situations.  You suppose some of it could be due to his lack of years behind yourself and Eddie, Jett still a teenager, almost twenty whereas you had been in your twenties for a few years now.  It wasn’t an excuse, just your brain attempting to work out his logic.

“You didn’t–you didn’t do anything wrong.”  He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

You don’t offer any words.  Only an expectant look.  Expecting of some kind of explanation as to why he’d been acting so cruel.  And as if the universe decided you didn’t live in enough anguish with your homesickness that morning paired with the current unwanted confrontation, Eddie’s eyes met yours for a brief moment before darting away, a deep sigh and suddenly slouching shoulders clearly indicating some kind of defeat before he quietly stepped out of the room.

“Can we get into this another time?”

You don’t wait for a response, excusing yourself to slip out of the room and follow the trail of cold out the front door, the chill seeping into your bones as your cradle your arms close to yourself.  The porch is spacious, something you hadn’t taken notice of earlier when arriving.  To your left, Eddie sits on a wooden bench with the family name “Scott” carved into it.  A cigarette takes its place between his fingers, his lighter flickering while he lets out a frustrated groan.  He places the stick between his lips and cups the flame to hide it from the wind, finally succeeding in lighting it, puffs of smoke escaping through the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not fragile, Bambi.  Stop following me around.”  He mutters, pulling the cigarette from his lips.  There’s no malice detected in his words, just something lacking hope as he stares straight ahead.

Carefully, you sit at the very edge of the bench, your skirt a tad too short to allow you to fully sit back due to the cold surface.  You catch a wave of his warmth as he rests his arm on his thigh.  It hurts, how far away he feels even being inches from you; his mind might as well be on Jupiter.  A momentary glance over at you causes him to sigh deeply, his head dipping down while he shakes it in disappointment.

“And dammit!”  Eddie snaps, face twitching in aggravation.  “I don’t have a jacket for you this time.  Learn how to dress for the cold.”  He gestures to your posture, your arms wrapped around your middle in an attempt to savor any warmth, and your jaw clenched shut as a means to keep your teeth from chattering though you can’t seem to contain the shivers nearly rattling your bones.

“I don’t need one.”

He scoffs, disbelief evident in his movements, a fidgeting hand reaching up to scratch the barely-there stubble at his jaw.  

“I don’t!”  You lie.

You were never one to willingly be dishonest but a little white lie in this case didn’t seem like the end of the world.  Not when Eddie’s fragile state of mind seemed to gnaw away at him.  You wouldn’t leave him out for the wolves to feed on him; wolves being his never ending thoughts that always without fail, won him over and forced him to crawl back into his comfort zone of isolation.  You suppose you weren’t so innocent either, always succumbing to the very same habits.

“Go back inside.”  A flick of his cigarette ash towards the ground ignites in the thin layer of snow barely coating the porch before extinguishing.

You can’t help the furrow in your brows, staring at him as if to figure him out, attempting to glance into his large coffee colored irises, to no avail.  His shiny eyes dodge your attempts, the windows of his soul closed off, even from you.  Not that you were immediately entitled, though you figure with each trauma he had shared with you, he’d at least be able to look you in the eye.

“Come with me.”  You chirp.  “We’ll taste all the wines.  C’mon, and then we’ll be nice and hungry.  Drunk eating is the best.”  You extend a hand out toward him, your freshly painted nails perfectly imperfect in his peripheral.

“I’m not in the mood, Bambi.”

His gravelly voice has a certain effect on you, one you find not appropriate to dissect right now.  He lifts the cigarette back up to his lips, the chance to take one more drag stolen from him as you pluck it from his fingers, tossing it into the snow without regret, stomping your foot on it for good measure.

“Well, get in the mood.  Let’s go.”  

Boldly, you tug at his arm, unable to move him by yourself, you know.  But he willingly melts into your touch, allowing you to pull him up despite his protesting frown.  Though he follows you to stand, he doesn’t budge much further than that as you try to drag him back into the cozy warmth of the house.  The rounded tip of his nose glows red, the threat of a cold only pushing you to tug on his sleeve with no success in ushering him inside.

“I think ‘m just gonna head home.  You think someone else could give you a ride back?”  The question is hesitant, no longer wanting to participate in the festivities but still concerned for your well-being, especially if you were going to continue to drink.  

Your track record with alcohol wasn’t exactly great and he’d never forgive himself if something happened and he wasn’t there just because the sight of you talking to Jett had left a bad taste in his mouth.  But he couldn’t stand it any longer, watching you act so graceful all the time, especially to someone you didn’t particularly like, and then having to pretend that a simple kiss on the cheek didn’t absolutely wreck him.  A kiss that you hadn’t since mentioned, and he wasn’t going to humiliate himself by insinuating that you wanted him in that way.  No one wanted him in that way.

“What?”  You breathe, face shifting into a sadness Eddie wanted to kick himself for.  “No, you can’t go–”

“I’m sure Jett is ready and willing to entertain you.”

Low blow.  He could always count on himself to deliver a low blow at the worst of times.

Eddie knew now that you had a distaste for Jett, he knew that.  And yet he was stupid enough to continue using Jett as ammo against you for no reason other than his own insecurity.  If he continued to push you away then it wouldn’t hurt so bad when you realized he was scum of the earth.  Trailer trash.  A nobody.  That’s what he kept telling himself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  You fume, crossing your arms.

“I don’t know, Bambi.  You tell me cause I can’t figure you out.”

The use of his nickname for you stitched together with words of anguish only further confused you.  You couldn’t seem to win.

“Can’t–can’t figure me out?!”  You widen your eyes at him, only hoping to convey how ridiculous of a statement it is.  “Can’t figure me out.  What about you?!  You’re the one no one can figure out!”  

You’re on the verge of whining, begging in a sense.  Pleading with the most stubborn man in the world and god only knows what you’ll do if he doesn’t stand down.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.”  He states simply, monotone.  It makes you want to yank your hair out by the roots and offer it to him, asking him if it’s enough.  If it’s enough to shut up the voices in his head.

“Yeah?  Because you don’t wanna let people in?!”  Uncharacteristically, you jab a finger into his chest, frustration making itself known across your face and you only know because his eyes ever so slightly soften.  “Eddie, all you do is give me mixed signals!  How many times do I have to tell you I want nothing to do with Jett?!  What do I have to do to get that through your thick fucking head?!”  He tries to get a word in but you don’t give him an opportunity.  “No, seriously!  I need an instruction manual or something because I’m trying!  I have been trying-”

“-I didn’t ask you to!”  He finally interrupts, sorrow filling his eyes.

With a deep breath, you calm your heaving chest.  It’s apparent you’re no longer cold, your skin hot from working yourself up.  Steam may as well be coming from your ears though it wasn’t your intention to get so irritated with him.  

“I wanted to.  I want to.”  Your voice comes out softer, a gentler approach to his sudden internal conflict.

“No.”

Turning away, he doesn’t quite move to leave but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s trying to shut you out.  He’s trying to escape like some kind of feral animal but you refuse to give in.  You refuse to let him.  

“Yes.  Eddie–look at me!”  You demand with a small pull of his arm.

“No.”

He goes to turn his body even further away from you but the firm hold you have on his bicep stops him.  He keeps his gaze on the floorboards below, his nose twitching and eyes burning with the threat of tears.  You only know because you’re all too familiar with the mandatory frown that comes with holding them back.

“Stop doing that.  Please.”  You beg.

“I can’t be here right now–”

“What makes you think I can?”

He’s silent.  The world instantly feels so quiet, tiny snow flurries fluttering around you, making you feel as if you’re the only two people on Earth.  Echoes of the celebrating and hollering inside are faint although they don’t do much to pop the bubble you find yourselves in.  Then he breaks the silence, daring to plead with you this time.

“Bambi, please.”  He croaks.

Your initial thought is, please what?  You’d been pleading with him back and forth for god knows how many minutes straight and here he was doing it right back to you.  And for what?  It wasn’t a good enough plea, not for you.  You weren’t ready to let it go, if you even knew what “it” was.

“No, you’re coming inside and you don’t have to associate with me if you don’t want to but you’re coming inside.”

Your demand only seems to irritate him, his brows knitting together while he pinches the bridge of his nose in between his fingers.  If he was agitated then you were about to become enraged.  And that is not something you wanted.  You never wanted to display that kind of emotion toward him but he was practically pulling it out of you and you had to fight against it.  No one had ever been able to pull such a reaction out of you, not ever.  Even if you had gotten pretty close, you swallowed it down and hid it.

“Why?!”  Eddie seethes.

His outburst takes you back, though with the aggravation boiling within you, you were able to contain any reaction he was seeking, if any.  That wasn’t the case for long though as you then launch yourself into another tantrum after staring for a second too long at his snarled lip.

“Because believe it or not, I care, Eddie!”  You practically wail, your voice becoming hoarse.  “If you leave I’m coming with you because I’m not leaving you alone.  Not on Thanksgiving.”  Your head shakes in denial.

Against your own will, a single tear trails down your cheek and the moment you feel it, you’re rapidly wiping it away, hoping he never even saw it when you knew damn well his umber eyes followed it all the way down your face.  He only pulls his gaze away.

“I’m leaving.  You’re staying here.”  He decides, regret etched into his features.

In a final attempt to escape your grasp, he succeeds, feeling your fingertips linger for one last second before drifting away as he turns and makes his way down the porch steps, wood protesting beneath him.  The noise is the only proof you have that he’s actually leaving, that he actually feels he’s not worthy enough to stay.  

You refuse to give up so easily.

Your feet are already on a mission, nearly sprinting down the stairs even with the threat of slipping on the minimal amount of ice beginning to freeze over.  Eddie pays no mind to the fast paced footsteps crunching against the gravel behind him, making his way over to Sugar with his head hung low.  Your heart is racing, not just because you suddenly decided to sprint a few yards but because a healthy dose of dopamine has started coursing throughout your body, a good amount of anxiety accompanying it but not deferring you any longer.

Eddie makes it to Sugar, his hand reaching for the door only for it to be forced shut with a self-manicured hand.  If he didn’t know who the hand belonged to he’d be chewing the owner out for daring to touch his beloved truck.  Instead he rolls his eyes and turns as he prepares to reprimand you in a much more gentle manner than he would anyone else.

Except he doesn’t even have the chance when your lips are suddenly pressed to the corner of his mouth, your body pushing him against Sugar.  His hands freeze mid air, his eyes wide open.  Your hands are resting on his chest and–he can’t breathe.  You pull away, inches from him and he can’t breathe, he can’t speak, he can’t move.  As far as he’s concerned he isn’t even human anymore.  

“Stay.”  You whisper, your breath fanning over slightly chapped lips.

His lips won’t stop tingling, he can’t grasp the concept of what just occurred.  He refuses to even touch you for fear that you might disappear right before him.  Hell, he’s not even sure he’s allowed to.

It’s difficult to gauge his reaction, his heavy breath lingering with the smell of his cigarette that would probably gross you out had it been anyone else but for some reason, because it’s him, you don’t mind very much.  You must smell strongly of wine which isn’t always pleasant so you figure you’re even.

“Please stay.”   You repeat, nudging your nose into his.

It’s like he’s in a trance, his eyelids becoming lazy and his body relaxing when you reach up to trace your thumb ever so slightly over his jaw.  His forehead rests against yours, his eyes squeezing shut, and you can hear a gulp in his throat.  With his eyes still shut, he nods and before you can process it, he launches himself into your arms in a tight embrace, wrapping himself around you, his face buried in your neck.  A wetness catches against your skin catches your attention, Eddie’s body heaving slightly and you just know.

You know that the tear stains on your skin mean more to him than you could ever imagine.

Slowly, your fingers tangle in his hair, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck to lightly scratch his scalp soothingly.  The way he grips onto you tighter, his body shaking, only confirms that physical touch and affection was not a luxury he was allowed in his lifetime.  If he let you, you’d spend thousands of hours holding him, even in the cold.  Whatever he needed.

But the snow flurries began to grow larger and the wind started to pick up.  And you’d be damned if you allowed yourself and Eddie to catch a nasty cold when you could be doing the same thing inside next to the fire.  Though, as you thought about it, Eddie would probably shy away from your touch in front of everyone.  And that didn’t anger you in the way it normally would.  Because you couldn’t blame him, someone so touch starved that he began to sob the second he was willingly kissed and told he was wanted, for shying away from showers of physical affection in front of peers that only know him to be big, bad, Eddie Munson.  It would be too much of a change and you weren’t willing to force that upon him.

So as the cold grew more unforgiving, you continued to hold him.  He would be the one to decide when he felt he wanted to part from you.  And if you both got sick, so be it.  A stupid cold would be worth the price if you were able to provide him the touch he went so long without and so badly craved, even if he didn’t quite know it at first.

Eddie parted from you far sooner than anticipated.  His cheeks were rosy, his rounded nose matching, endearingly so.  His eyelashes were dotted with a few lingering tears, his eyes rimmed with red but sadness was absent from his features.  Instead there was a fondness dripping from his expression and though he parted from the embrace to gaze down at you, he still clung to you like his life depended on it. 

“Can I–can I kiss you?”  He whispers shakily.

You want to laugh, only because he’s acting as if you didn’t kiss him in the first place.  But you bury it deep down and only let a smile blossom.  

“Please.”  You whisper back.

This time, you’re more than happy to beg.  

Hesitantly, his shaky hand cups your jaw, the warmth from his skin more than welcome as he gently slots his lips against yours.  He’s slow with it, taking his time.  As you move in rhythm with him, you encourage him, moving his arms to circle your waist, pressing yourself closer and letting your hands travel up his chest to lock behind his neck.  

“I can’t stop.”  He laughs quietly, continuously pecking your lips like he can’t get enough.

“Don’t.”  You giggle into his mouth.

Teeth clash against teeth and though he hasn’t quite graduated to using tongue yet, you have the urge to introduce him.  Before you can pass your tongue along his plump bottom lip, he curses under his breath as he pulls away, only causing worry to spread across your face.

“You’re freezing.”  His hands rub up and down your arms to somewhat heat you up and only then do you realize your face feels completely numb.

“No, I’m fine.”  You protest against your better judgment.  It wasn’t exactly fitting to be in tights while one of the first snow falls of the year ensued.

“You’ll be a popsicle in like three seconds.”

Eddie softly smiles, reaching for your hand and tugging you with him toward the house.  A whine escapes you, a pathetic whimper but you manage to shuffle yourself along with him.  Before entering the realm of reality beyond the front door, Eddie turns to you, stars in his eyes, something glimmering.

“How’s my nose?  Snotty?”  He grins, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

[061306]

␥ list of things i’ve successfully manifested !

i discovered manifestation and the law around early 2022 and here's what i have manifested since then! this might not be much but this is to remind me that i am capable of anything and everything!

𖥻 1. clearer skin

i used to have a terrible breakout on the right side of my face + oily skin. now my skin is much better and less oily! i do not have acne anymore.

𖥻 2. weight loss ( 14 kgs )

i went from 69 kgs to 55 kgs in around two months with minimal exercise ( walking ) & a simple diet.

𖥻 3. height increase ( 11cm )

i used to be 150cm but not anymore lol. i got better proportions too!

𖥻 4. text messages & instant replies from people.

i also manifested message from a friend i was no longer in contact with.

𖥻 5. passing exams i thought i was going to fail

accountancy was my weakest subject but i manifested passing several tests and exams. i also manifested getting better in it!

𖥻 6. getting above average % board exams

board examinations are a big deal in my country and i, unfortunately, ended in a stream i was not interested in. i manifested getting ~80% in them despite getting way lesser in school examinations.

𖥻 7. food

one single thought turned into an assumption and i am having whatever i want for dinner!

𖥻 8. storage of my phone increasing

i only have 32gb of storage in my phone lol. so sometimes i have to clear app caches to make space, but not anymore.

𖥻 9. love confession

i simply wanted a love confession and i got it. as easy as it gets.

𖥻 10. an increament in my mom’s salary & money for myself

my mom really wanted an increament and i manifested it! she got increament of 5.5k! also manifested a bonus for her. + got gift money from my parents and relatives!

𖥻 11. letting go of & detaching from several people

i used to be attached some people that hurt me but not anymore. i have let go of them and it feels so much better.

𖥻 12. books & manga ( jjk )

my mom is not the type to let me spend money on buying books ( for leisure reading ), much less a comic book. but i manifested her allowing me to buy 4 books + 1 manga volume! she even paid for them.

𖥻 13. delaying the start of my college, teachers & professors taking leaves, not getting scolded for submitting assignments late

my college was supposed to start from early june but i manifested a delay and it started from mid-july. i have manifested both school teachers and college professors taking leaves on my desired days.

𖥻 14. nice aura + compliments

i have a magnetic aura, people feel comfort around me and i get so many compliments about literally everything i do!

𖥻 15. quick deliveries of my orders

🤭🤭🤭

𖥻 16. winning an elocution competition

i was really worried because i only found about it a day before and some other contestants had been trained by their professors. i was full of nerves but still won the first rank! the judges said my content was unique and everything i did was perfect.

𖥻 17. kitten type beauty

manifested myself big upturned eyes with pretty lashes & a v-shaped face with smooth skin!

𖥻 18. cats loving me

call me a cat whisperer the way cats love me! i can easily befriend any cat!!! ˃ᴗ˂

𖥻 19. desired skincare products for cheap

i really wanted vitamin c serum and face cleanser and sometime later i saw an ad with an offer to get both for 1 rupee! crazy right?

𖥻 20. entering the void on several occasions.

i have entered the void several times albeit unaware. recently i've started becoming aware before snapping out of it!

masterlist. | notes – i've also manifested getting a merch of my bias. i got it from my best friend as gift but i didn't add it on the list because i didn't want break the perfect 20. also this list is as on 04 DEC 2023.

[luvyeni]

CONSEQUENCES OF A ONE NIGHT STAND. ( chapter. 14)

— CHAPTER FOURTEEN: telling the parents (fail) ...

— 𖦹 warnings?

previous - next - masterlist

"jungwon , stop complaining." his mother rolled her eyes , sitting the food down on the table. "im just saying i can't believe i had to sleep on the air mattress." you laughed at your bestfriend , all these years later and he still whined to his parents.

"because she's pregnant jungwon , she can't sleep on the air mattress." you smiled cheekily , of course you could've slept on the air mattress , you planned on doing so , giving your bestfriend his bed back — you just wanted to piss him off. "my name isn't jake , he's the one that got her pregnant , not me."

"jungwon enough, eat your breakfast " you stuck your tongue out , your phone rang , you picked it up , reading the daily good morning text and check up from jake. you smiled , texting him back. "speaking of the devil." jungwon said. "look at that smile , for someone who claims they're just in it for the baby , you surely are cheesing hella hard." you rolled your eyes. "hush up , it was only a good morning text."

"i just can't believe you're with child , jakes none the less." jungwons mom fed you more food. "he is a wild one , i was surpised when wonie brung him home during spring break."

"well as long as he helps out with the baby , he's free to do whatever he wants , date whoever he wants." you said , something in the back of your head saying you didn't really mean that , but you pushed it down. "now that i think about it." jungwon started. "i don't think i've seen or heard him talk about another girl , for the month it's been all about you and the baby in the group chat , i almost kicked him out because of it."

"you're a professional hater , you know that right?" he smiled. "like it's a full time job."

"you're gonna tell your parents today right?" his mom spoke up , you sighed nodded. "how do you think they'll take it." you shrugged. "horrible if my predictions are correct." you never got along with your parents , being the oldest sibling , your parents always set the standards at a unreachable level , and would get mad when you would fail.

your younger sister on the other hand — being the baby and all , was treated with love and care , given everything she wanted , even if her grade were horrible. when she turned 18 for her graduation present wanted to travel to europe for a year with her friends , your parents funded the whole trip. when you were 18 you asked them to help you with your books for college , they said they were already paying for half your tuition and they couldn't do it.

when your sister said she didn't want to go to college like they pressured you into doing , but instead she wanted to be a youtuber , they bought her an entire set up that cost thousands of dollars , but when you asked could they help you with the down payment for your cafe , they refused , if it wasn't for jungwons parents you would've probably be in debt.

it's safe to say you've pretty much cut contact with them , and now you have a successful cafe , and they're still financially supporting your sister who is now an adult.

"well you are always welcomed here , that baby will always have a home here." you smiled , standing up to hug the woman who was more like your mother than your actually mother. "thank you , so much for that."

"we don't have to be at your parents house for dinner until 8 , so we have time." jungwon said. "wonie , how about you let ( name ) handle this on her own." mrs. yang spoke , washing the dishes. "what the hell am i supposed to do then?" he said. "uh spend time with your mother."

you grabbed his hand reassuringly. "she's right , i can do it on my own , spend time for your mom , it's not every day you visit her." he nodded. "if that's what you want bubs , then i guess i can stay here and wait , text karina and make sure sunoo is doing his job." you hugged him. "i'll be fine i swear."

after helping with the chores , you decides to finally suck it up and get dressed — thinking of multiple ways you could tell your parents , each resulting in them being horrible as the next. "where are my car keys?" you paced back and forth. "you mean the ones in your hand?" you looked down , sighing. "you don't have to do this alone." he said. "i do , i just need to get it over with." you slipped your shoes on.

"okay." you huffed , finally ready to leave. "i'm gonna go now." you took one of his sweaters. "make sure they aren't burning my store down." he reassured you , pushing you out the door "okay , okay go , you're late." he said. "good luck honey." mrs.yang yelled , you thanked her knowing you'll definitely need it.

after 25 minute drive to your house , and 15 wait outside your door , you finally worked up the courage to get out of the car , walking to the door , knocking on the door. you heard the old family dog barking , before silence , the unlocking of the locks nerve wracking , the door swinging open. "you're late."

you and your sister stared each other down. "you look fat." she turned , letting you walk into the house. "take your shoes off , the mother just cleaned." you complied , deciding not to argue. "i did live here at one point."

you bent down , petting the old dog , who jumped at your side. "hi girl , it's been a while." you let her lick your palm. "everyone is in the dining area."

you let out a inhale , exhaling before walking into the dining area. "next time call when you're gonna be late." your sister sat down , you could tell this was not gonna be easy. "me and jungwon got caught up." you sat down. "of course , you spend more time with that boy than you do your own family." your mom passed out the dishes.

"well im surprised you even noticed." you said. "are you talking back?" you shook your head. "no mother."

the dinner went by just as you suspected , your family saying sly comments about you and your life , and you praying to god to escape — almost calling it quits and leaving many times. "can we just stop beating around the bush." your sister said.

"it's been 4 years since you left , you've block everyone on social media , we have to hear from mrs.yang about you , so why are you here?" you guess it was time , sitting down your utensils , sighing. "well i came because i have something to tell you."

"is it about your business? because we've already told you we're not- i didn't come here because i need something , my god can you just listen for a second." you snapped , making them go silent , you huffed , before speaking.

"well." you gulped , i just wanted to tell you guys that , i am pregnant." you watched their eyes widen , before your mom sat her utensils down. "pregnant?" she questioned. "yes."

it was so silent , you thought that they could hear your heart beating out of your chest. "can't say im surprised." your mom said. "what does that mean?" you scoffed. "you've always been know to make stupid decisions." she said. "it was only a matter of time before you gotten yourself pregnant." "do you know the baby's daddy? is he your boyfriend? why isn't he here?" your sister spoke.

"of course i know him , and no jake isn't my boyfriend." you said. "you're having a baby with someone you're not even with." your sister shook her head. "so it was a mistake?" you were growing annoyed. "does that matter, the baby is coming regardless."

"you didn't think to get rid of it?" you scoffed at your mother. "are you serious right now?" you said. "i should've come here." you stood up. "what are you gonna do now?" your dad said. "gonna come crawling back to us for money , much like before with the cafe , you can't keep asking the yangs for money , they'll eventually get tired of you."

you scoffed , more liked laughed. "that's what you think?" you nodded. "my shop is doing way better." you said. "i didn't come here for money , i just came to check something." you said. "guess i was right." you walked out of the kitchen.

"i won't be back again." was all you said before you grabbed your shoes , walking out the house to your car. you climbed into the car , driving off , and you just kept driving , straight past the yangs house , you couldn't stay in your home town any longer.

— ( taglist. CLOSED ) @j-wyoung @whoslai @cha0thicpisces @sunsunl0ver @wonyoungsvirus @omgtintarr @en-dazed @kwiwin @httpsrinrin @igotkpoops @enhaz1 @ahnneyong @electrobutterfly @nes-caf @beomgyusonlywife @jup1t3r-y30n @gyulune @mixtape-racha @ddazed-lhs @shuichi-sama @chaelinhhwang @stariszn @rikisly @ilikekpop-c @jenjnk @ilovehimyourhonour @peachyun02 @primroselover @sxurgrapes

©️LUVYENI

[yaut-jaknowit]

New Feelings

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader(Platonic)

Word Count: 3057

Summary: During this time, We'ar-ow takes a momentary step back from ruling to care for you. Just in the confinements of her private room though. You come to realize how different she acts in front of company.

Author Note: Had a bit of a mix-up on the masterlist but it's resolved now! I've also got the next chapter finished about to finish the one after that so I'm getting back to writing book. Not beta read. If there is something confusing or stupid, let me know and I'll fix it.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 |

In We’ar-ow’s throne room, many Yautjas have come to report to their leader. It was a short line at first when she had originally dragged you from the safety of her room early this morning. A regular amount of people, you had thought at first. It doesn’t just take one person to lead a clan like this. But more later filled the throne room that it finally hit the door.

It’s not like you paid a great amount of attention to them. Just enough to see each of their faces and file them away for a later date. All for sake of one of them being your stalker. Whoever hunted you through the halls of this very ship could possibly be in this room with you. Would they slay you before the Monarch? And what would their thought process be? Cleaning the ship of scum? Disturbing We’ar-ow?

That had you rolling your eyes, head bowed to hide away your emotions. We’ar-ow did not care that much about you to have your death disturb her. Just a fucking pet. Your senses still completely open for an attack. Anyone of them could slip out of line and slaughter you without remorse. These are hunters. Born, bred, built to maim anything in their way. A shiver ran its course through your body.

The tablet in hand was momentarily discarded mentally. The thoughts of decapitation or dismembering filled your head. None of them would blink an eye about it. Just your blood staining the like-carpet material blanketing the stairs and floor. Or the cushion gifted to you. All would be brushed off. Their day would continue like normal. You sighed heavily through your nose and tilted your head back to stare at the strangely decorated ceiling.

A mural of sorts had been painted over the expanse of the ceiling. Only spots of flush lights broke the illusion of how intricate. You shook your head and focused back on the line.

Someone bypassed the entire line and marched up the stairs that lead to We’ar-ow’s throne. Your back tensed at the sight, on the verge of snapping in half. This Yautja, male by his shorter stature, ignored you and stopped before her seat. A nearly playful look twinkled in his sea green-blue eyes. He gave a polite bow to his leader then begun to discuss with her, short, sweet.

“May I?” he questioned and motioned over to you. Your heart dropped to the floor. Instantly, you rapidly shook your head to deter him or her from getting close to you.

We’ar-ow nodded her massive head and returned her attention back to the figure before her. Your jaw dropped at her abandonment. A week ago you had almost died! Maybe, possibly. You didn’t know if death was going to happen that day but it made it all the scary of not knowing.

The new figure smiled with his alien mandibles and spun on his heel to face your sitting form. Terror ran cold in your blood at his first step. The next had you trembling. He knelt down a step just before yours. He wasn’t a young Yautja anymore. The lines and many scars the decorated his skin were an indication. What caught your eye like shining gold was his right arm. The elbow and below was gone, poof. Just a nub and gnarly scars. A well decorated hunter who’s earned his title by the looks of it.

You swallowed thickly but stayed seat on the cushion. Somehow. The Yautja huffed, the lightest of smirks playing his face. He reached out with his only hand and plucked the tablet from your grasp. “Whatcha got here?” he questioned and began to scroll through the page you were on. An article about Yautja Prime, their home planet.

He snickered and gave a look that ‘really?’. The device was tossed back into your lap but your attention was solely on the potentially dangerous figure before you. But… We’ar-ow seemed at ease around him and allowed him to approach you. Something you hadn’t expected after that night and the following days.

“If ya wanna know about home world, you could get it from the source,” he spoke in a voice that gave you smoker vibes. It almost drowned out the translator tucked underneath your skin, behind your ear. Automatically, you glanced over at We’ar-ow hard at work. A light tap to your knee had you snapping back to him. “Not her, ooman. Me!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Him? You just met him. Not even completely! He hadn’t told you his name. He saw the puzzle look on your features and snorted. “Monarch may say she could care less if I dropped off into the space port but she cares, doesn’t she?” What was his point? His angle? What did he want? And why was he being so friendly to you? Did he get knocked up side the head far too many times?

Plus, why did his last two words sound like there was an underlying tone in his voice. “I don’t, don’t even know your name,” you stuttered and gave him a look as if he was crazed. Curse the stutter!

“Oh, right. Thought she would’ve said a thing or two about me. Hurts the heart a little.” You just kept staring at him, puzzled on this whole attitude. He was completely different from any Yautja you’ve met before. Even if the list is fairly short. They’ve never acted so… carefree. Was this the crazy old man of the ship?

“Call me Xilo, short for Xilomere,” he finally introduced. Still tensed painfully, you stiffy nodded your head and murmur a ‘okay’, hoping it was enough to get him to leave. It wasn’t. “And you’re the Monarch’s pet. An ooman who’s been talk of the town for the last half solar cycle! You don’t realize the uproar you caused when the newly blooded brought you here. If it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have survived to see the next day.”

He said it so causally. You could’ve died when Dwainet brought you here… death. This was all a horrible mistake with consequences hard to live with.

We’ar-ow stopped them from killing you. She allowed you to stay. Why?! Your eyes drifted back over to the hard-working Yautja ensuring her ship and community don’t collapse on itself. Did… did she want you back then?

A hunter at their core must be patient.

That what it is to be a hunter. What did this all mean?! You gnawed on your bottom lip when the green Yautja before you patted your knee. “She didn’t tell you? Whoops.” Then, he leaned in close to whisper something of importance. “Don’t tell her I told you. Act natural.” All you could do was blink dumbly at him.

‘Act natural’? ‘Act natural’?! He was just as irritating at We’ar-ow with their up front, uncaring, idiotic words! How could you just go one knowing that if it wasn’t for her you would be dead!? Or the fact she might have been wanting you for her own pet this entire time?! Just waiting like the hunter was born to be for the right moment to snatch you up.

All of this was a mistake. You wanted to breakdown all over again. The wounds still fresh enough to ache in your poor heart.

Xilo pulled back with that same cocky smirk. “If you ever need to chat, dear ooman. My contact has been inputted into your toy. Now, I should dip before I spill more than I should about our lovely Monarch.” He pushed back up into a standing position, knees popping with the action. He gave you a two-finger salute, spun on his heel, and left through the way he came.

On his only hand, he was missing his entire pinky and the tip of his ring finger. Something you realized after he already left. You grumbled underneath your breath for a few minutes after the interaction and messed around on your tablet. He didn’t need to announce to the whole throne room what you were doing on the tablet. Yes, you were gathering information about their planet. It’s not like you freely look for ways to escape the mothership right in front of her. You were on the steps, before her throne though to the side. One turn of her head could expose your whole plan.

To be honest, you’ve thought about this. She has to have some knowledge of you wanting to escape. But if she’s not worried… that means she is confidence there isn’t way to escape. But there is. At least to get off of here. Away from being her damn pet.

The like-leather encasing your throat is a feeling you’ve started to grow accustomed to. At nights, We’ar-ow allows you to take it off. Thankfully. But in the morning, it’s back on; with complaints almost every time. It’s a loosing battle at this point. The only way to gain back what you’ve lost is to escape. Away, far from this place.

So, you learned, research what you could about Yautjas. From their planet to the motherships they use to roam the universe to the different subspecies to hunting styles. Everything. To know your enemy is the way to defeat your enemy. To outsmart them, her. It’s the only way to escape.

But is that what you want?

.

Once the day ended, in the middle of the afternoon, the two of you retired back to her quarters. The safety away from prying eyes and possibly danger. Though, to be frank, this was the lions den you not only eat and bathe in, but also sleep and relax in. You ran your fingers through your hair after the door seal shut, leaving you alone with We’ar-ow.

Said salmon pink Yautja strolled across the living room and into her room. Door left open. That struck you. The door always shuts after her. Why leave it open?

Curiosity may have killed the cat… and now you.

You tiptoed across the length of the main room and peered around the entrance of her door. You’ve been in here before. With her permission. She’s never left the door open before though. You didn’t dare take another step into the bedroom.

For a moment, you couldn’t find her until a light flicked on and caught your eye. We’ar-ow’s back was to you as she stood in the doorway of another room to the right wall. The new light shone on what looked to be clothing. She has a walk in closet, what else did you expect from her?

Then, the Yautja began to strip. You felt your eyes bulge out from your head at the sight, but unable to peel your sight away. Its not like you hadn’t seen Dwainet naked before… plenty of times, plenty. He had bulk similar to We’ar-ow but she has honed in to be able to be agile and lethal. Move faster than you could process sometimes.

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes partially glazed over. Her muscles weren’t well defined as some you’ve seen. That didn’t mean thickly corded muscles didn’t lie underneath her thick, pink skin. No wonder many Yautjas looked at not just respect/fear of her being Monarch but for her beauty as well.

Her thumbs shimmied under her waistband and began to push down. This is where you slam your back against the wall outside of the room and slapped a hand over your mouth.

Boiling heat flushed to your cheeks, eyes clenched shut. Why had you done that?! That… that-

“You are missing the show,” We’ar-ow’s voice funneled out into the main room where you were. Your knees nearly gave out right then. She knew. Oh my god. She fucking knew! “Come on out, pet.” She used a honeyed voice as an attempt to coax you out from hiding. She already knew that you were right there.

With whatever courage you still had after all this time, you stepped back into the doorway with your head bowed. She would have to rip your head off to make you look at her.

Pink feet entered your vision. A knuckle tried to tilt your head up at first before you felt her lean down, mouth close to your ear now. “Did my pet enjoy the show?” she whispered softly into your ear. Your spine locked up, chest heaving with unsteady breaths. “Calm, little one. I asked a question.”

Anger flashed to life in your veins was quickly stomped out from the embarrassment. She wanted you to speak! Why does she keep doing that? You felt on the verge of crying. “S-sorry,” you sputtered then pressed your lips tightly against each other. Her knuckle was still firm against your chin, not relenting. But neither were you.

We’ar-ow softly huffed and corralled you to the nearest wall. Her free hand wrapped around your neck and locked you against said wall. “That is not the answer I was looking for, pet.” You best believe she could hear how wild your heart was pounding in your chest. On the verge of jumping out into her hands.

From past experiences, you knew she wasn’t going to stop until she got your answer. Lying was off the table too. Yautjas have a keen sense of smell. They know. You swallowed the lump down, feeling her hand twitch slightly around your throat. “Yes,” you murmured just above a breath. She was able to tilt your head up and you met her eyes.

Far from anger. We’ar-ow looked down at you with an alien smirk gracing her face. Your heart stuttered, but not from fear. She wasn’t furious, not at all. It’s like… oh my god, she wanted you to look, to watch even. It was all a setup. Your face soured. You had nowhere to go though. We’ar-ow had you trapped to the wall.

“Smart ooman.” She read you like an open book. You scowled at her. “I am glad that enjoyed what I offered. I will know what to do for next time.” Then, her body heat left you as she pulled away. “Go eat. There are some berries in the cooling containment for you.” Sometimes the translator wasn’t the most accurate about words.

Blindly listening to her, you unsteadily stumbled your way into the kitchen-like room. In the refrigerator, you pulled out the bowl and berries then added a couple of fruits to it as well. You were still dazed while sitting down on the one-seater in the living room.

A berry was tossed into your mouth. The taste bursting over your tastebuds. They were delicious, not something you expected from a species that looked like they had a stick always stuck up their ass. You scoffed and curled up more on the couch. Your legs tucked underneath your body with the bowl placed in your lap.

As you sat peacefully on the couch, you couldn’t help but remember what We’ar-ow had said earlier. Something on the lines of knowing what to do for next time. Next time? Why would there be a next time?! She… fuck, you couldn’t deny the fact you were watching her, curious on what lied below her clothing. Though, there wasn’t much fabric she used to cover herself. None of the Yautjas did. Nudity wasn’t frowned upon like it is for your species.

Your brows furrowed the more you thought about it. They way you watched… and she wanted you to. She set you up and you enjoyed it!

All thoughts came to a halt… Enjoyed? Did you enjoy it? You didn’t dare answer that. You frowned and shifted once more to have your legs over the arm rest, back to the other side. Another few berries were tossed into your mouth, mindlessly munching on them.

What is wrong with you? You sighed and curled more in yourself. This was all wrong. After Dwainet, you sworn to never feel a thing for any of these monsters. That’s what they are. Dwainet took you from your home, away from everything you knew and promised you love that he clearly lost for you. Now, look where it got you. In the worst place possible. Escape was hard enough but if she was interested in you… that was a whole either situation you had to worry about. At a later date. Today, you had to survive the stalker.

Warm arms scooped you up from the couch. You yelped and scrambled to right yourself but the limbs tensed and kept you firmly in place. When a familiar pink flashed in your vision you stilled, eyes wide and glancing up at the Yautja holding you. “What are you doing?” you questioned, voice faltering.

We’ar-ow held you close to her, against her bare chest, turned around, then stole your spot. A grumpy look fell over your features as you were ready to flail around to escape. The Yautja chuckled and patted your cheek. “You look cute when you are pouting,” she teased and plucked a piece fruit from your bowl. There was nothing you could do to fight her.

Stiffly, you hesitantly relaxed into her lap once realizing there wasn’t a chance to wiggle free. She let a slackened arm fall over your lap. You tensed but returned to your former position, half-mindlessly munching at the berries she snacked on as well. The Yautja didn’t say anything else and seemed to enjoy your company.

Despite the will to fight her, to fight this; after the last week living in the terror of being hunted down by a Yautja has worn you down. She was there. She willingly protected you. She carried you to her room, set you down in her bed, and locked you in her room. For your protection. She cares. To what extent is a great question you would love to answer.

For the time being, you would enjoy her warm body and food she provided. Though, it came with an unfortunate title: pet. Your lips pressed against each other at the reminder. There was always a trade off and maybe it had to come with that title to live a life worriless.

You’ve yet to come to terms with that though. The pain still far too fresh to think of lying and rolling over for her. Or anyone for that matter.

Special tag: @michellefoster12

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 |

[gffa]

My current progress on The High Republic books, comics, etc. I DESERVE CONGRATULATIONS AND WELL-WISHES TO CATCH UP BEFORE THE ACOLYTE AIRS. MAIN STORYLINE NOVELS - PHASE I:

The High Republic: Light of the Jedi

The High Republic: A Test of Courage

The High Republic: Into the Dark

The High Republic: The Rising Storm

The High Republic: Race To Crashpoint Tower

The High Republic: Out Of The Shadows

The High Republic: Mission to Disaster

The High Republic: The Fallen Star

The High Republic: Midnight Horizon

MAIN STORYLINE NOVELS - PHASE II:

The High Republic: Path of Deceit

The High Republic: Convergence

The High Republic: Quest for the Hidden City

The High Republic: Cataclysm

The High Republic: Quest for Planet X

The High Republic: Path of Vengeance

MAIN STORYLINE NOVELS - PHASE III:

The High Republic: The Eye of Darkness

The High Republic: Escape from Valo

The High Republic: Defy The Storm

MAIN STORYLINE COMICS - PHASE I:

The High Republic (2021) - 15 issues

The High Republic Adventures (2021) - 13 issues

The High Republic: The Monster of Temple Peak - 4 issues

The High Republic: The Edge Of Balance - 2 manga volumes

The High Republic: Trail of Shadows - 5 issues

The High Republic: Eye of the Storm - 2 issues

MAIN STORYLINE COMICS - PHASE II:

The High Republic: The Blade - 4 issues

The High Republic (2022) - 10 issues

The High Republic Adventures (2021) - 8 issues

The High Republic: Edge of Balance: Precedent - 1 manga volume

The High Republic Adventures: The Nameless Terror - 4 issues

MAIN STORYLINE COMICS - PHASE III:

The High Republic: Shadows of Starlight - 4 issues

The High Republic (2023) - 5 issues [ONGOING]

The High Republic Adventures (2023) - 4 issues [ONGOING]

MAIN STORYLINE AUDIODRAMAS - PHASE I:

The High Republic: Tempest Runner

MAIN STORYLINE AUDIODRAMAS - PHASE II:

The High Republic: The Battle of Jedha

ONESHOT COMIC ISSUES - PHASE I:

Star Wars Adventures (2020) #6 - “The Gaze Electric”

The High Republic Adventures: Free Comic Book Day 2021

The High Republic Adventures Annual 2021

The High Republic Adventures: Galactic Bake-Off Spectacular

Star Wars Adventures (2020) #14 - “A Very Nihil Interlude”

The High Republic Adventures: Free Comic Book Day 2023

ONESHOT COMIC ISSUES - PHASE II:

The High Republic Adventures: Quest of the Jedi

ONESHOT COMIC ISSUES - PHASE III:

The High Republic Adventures: Crash Landing

ANTHOLOGY NOVELS - PHASE I:

Star Wars: The High Republic: Starlight

ANTHOLOGY NOVELS - PHASE II:

Star Wars Insider: The High Republic: Tales of Enlightenment

ANTHOLOGY NOVELS - ALL PHASES:

The High Republic: Tales of Light and Life

EVERYTHING ELSE:

Star Wars: Young Jedi Adventures - 25 episodes

This is a bit misleading in that several of these I'm halfway through, I've been watching Young Jedi Adventures in the background while I do other things and it's super cute! It's very much a preschooler-aimed series, but the animation is gorgeous, the voice acting is adorable, and it's fun to have on in the background. (It does make me pine for this style of animation to be used for more familiar characters, what I wouldn't give for baby Mace Windu in this style or baby Obi-Wan or baby Plo or baby Shaak, THEY WOULD BE SO CUTE.) I'm also halfway through The Fallen Star, which isn't as far as I'd like considering I started it several days ago, but I don't have as much on-line time these days and I listen to it in the background while doing other things. It's fine so far, I'd say! I'm eager to get to Phase III, though. One thing that's really hitting me all over again, especially as I'm wrapping up reading Shadows of Starlight is that the Nihil are now trying to set up their own area of the galaxy, to set up a government in their claimed area, they've been strong-arming planets into being forced to join them, they've been actively killing Jedi--including one general who opens his coat to reveal a collection of lightsabers to show that he'd be a good fit to join the Nihil--and it's so many echoes of the prequels that it's fascinating. Because the way the Jedi react, the need to align with the Republic for strength, the need to fight back against an enemy that is specifically targeting them, the need to help free the worlds that are being occupied by this government that claims to have nobler intentions, but really just wants to crush worlds under its boot? It's really showing, consistently, the Jedi being put in the same positions as the prequels Jedi and showing why their choices weren't great, but they had to choose something, because the alternative was worse. Reading all of this has given me a more sympathetic reading of the prequels' set-up, served up to me on a silver platter. OKAY, WISH ME LUCK in getting through at least one more comic run today and tell me how your High Republic reading journey is going, too!

[nicosraf]

You inspire me…. Any advice for writing books ?

!! I'm honored u get a little inspiration from me! That's very sweet of you.

I struggle with advice because I've only written about 5 books and published... two-ish. (An old fanfic and ABM, which as you know is basically fanfic). But I think I have some specific advice since I'm revising right now and have a lot of thoughts... Here is what works for me (!):

Outline. I know it sucks but... please try it. (Or you'll end up like GRRM).

Draft without going back to read what you wrote, or at least don't read your unfinished manuscript in full. You will want to edit it. Don't edit it. Yes it sounds bad; yes you used the same word 8 times in a paragraph by accident; yes you can see a major plot hole. Don't fix it yet, maybe write it down somewhere so you don't forget to fix it later. You need to avoid editing while drafting or you will never finish the draft. This is the biggest advice I can give anyone, especially if you haven't written your first book yet.

Give each character a strong backstory, even if it never shows up in the plot. Sounds obvious but sometimes I have to remind myself of this.

Give your characters friendships, not just romantic relationships. Include tender scenes with friends.

A lot of writing is tedious and boring. Drafting is hard, editing is hard. You have to be disciplined. But finding motivation is also hard. Don't motivate yourself using the dream of a fanbase or the dream of becoming famous. You're setting yourself up to be hurt. (Not because any of that is impossible but because achieving it in the way that you dream is virtually impossible.) Motivate yourself using something more personal, if you can.

Re-do your outline after you draft. Why? Because you probably changed things while you drafted, you probably made some stuff up on the spot, character dynamics changed, etc. A new outline is good because you can see the story you actually wrote, which is helpful for editing for plot cohesion, moving scenes, adding and removing stuff.

Your draft is going to be bad. Don't freak out. Drafts are always bad. You're going to want to analyze the hell out of it though. What did you plan, what did you write, what worked, what didnt work, what themes are on the page, what themes should you remove, what themes should you amplify.

When editing a scene isn't working, rewrite it entirely. Yes it's more work. You'll be much happier though, I promise.

The first to second revisions should be for plot and characters and pacing; these should take the longest and be the most difficult. The last third to fourth revision should be about prose. Don't focus on prose when you're trying to fix the plot.

Let characters fuck up unforgivably.

Consider your audience heavily when you edit, but don't consider them when you draft.

I've given this advice before but when it comes to plot devices/objects, you want to give each device a moment of introduction, a moment where it's recalled, and a moment of use. (Ex. A knife is introduced in chapter 1, its mentioned again casually in chapter 7, then it's used to kill someone in chapter 14.) This is mostly to give each object its own arc that feels satisfactory but ur the boss about what works best.

Kill all your characters, but not physically (unless you want to). Make them change so much that, by the end, they would barely recognize who they were at the start.

This is book advice for the type of books that I've written. Things are very different if you're writing, say, contemporary romance, but I think this list is pretty general !! I hope it helps. Good luck!!

[notetaeker]

RAMADAN CHALLENGE 2024:

Welcome to this years Ramadan Challenge! This is something I've been doing for the past 3 years and it has been so beneficial to me so I hope it is the same for you. Everyone is welcome to join! Please also let me know if u have any suggestions / notice any mistakes ;_;

Special thank you to @nuuralshams 💕 and @laikastudies ✨

RULES:

Reblog this post to let me know you're in! (and to have as reference)

Pls use the tag '#RamadanChallenge2024'

I will be rb-ing every post I see in there (unless it's spam bots)

You can do a question per day or batch them together if you like

You can also do some questions out of order if you want (like answering the surah kahf question on a friday)

Feel free to skip any question or just post abt how ur ramadan went that day / what you ate for iftar / anything tbh

You are also welcome to start late (or early! If you want to use some of the questions as a countdown to Ramadan!)

I also included some Ramadan Prep questions + Eid post if you'd like! ( Very optional!)

I will be starting the challenge when I personally start Ramadan but if Ramadan starts a day earlier for you- you can just start then!

I added a bonus day in case Ramadan is 30 days lol but you can skip it if you want if Ramadan is only 29 days

I will try my best to queue your posts but knowing me I might just mass-reblog 🤡

Anyway Allahumma Balighna Ramadan!!! / Ramadan Mubarak !!!! (based on when you're reading this)

Let me know! If you want to be tagged / reminded when we start!

PREP QUESTIONS (Optional):

Prep day 1: One thing you're looking forward to this Ramadan

Prep day 2: Anything you are scared of / worried about for this year?

Prep day 3: List one thing that would help future-you get the most out of this Ramadan, and go do it now! (if possible)

RAMADAN QUESTIONS:

Day 1: What are your goals this Ramadan? Possible suggestions: 1 habit to build, 1 habit to break, and one accomplishment you hope to gain!

Day 2: What are your other obligations this month? How does it compare to previous years? How do you balance them with ramadan?

Day 3: What is your favorite act of worship? Has it always been your favorite?

Day 4: Ramadan is the month of the qur'an. What is an ayah from the Qur'an that has changed your view of things or impacted you deeply (this year)?

Day 5: Share a treasured ramadan memory

Day 6: Biggest life lesson or advice you would give to others

Day 7: Best iftar item?

Day 8: What is a suhoor necessity to get you through the day?

Day 9: Share a hadith you’ve been thinking about recently or try this link that gives you a random hadith. How does it relate to you? (Does it?)

Day 10: First 10 days end today! Share a taraweeh tip! If you haven't prayed Taraweeh before, what is something that feels difficult about it?

Day 11: How has your experience of Ramadan changed over the years (Has it?)

Day 12: Most challenging thing about Ramadan and how do you try to overcome it?

Day 13: What aspects of the qur'anic science have you explored, and how did that go? (e.g tafsir, translation, memorization, tajweed, recitation)

Day 14: Favorite lesson(s) from the surah kahf stories?

Day 15: Any islamic lecture series / podcast / book that you would recommend?

Day 16: Favorite time to read qur'an during Ramadan? What about outside of Ramadan?

Day 17: What is your Ramadan Routine this year?

Day 18: the second 10 days is almost over! Are you part of any islamic communities during Ramadan? What about outside of Ramadan?

Day 19: What is something you are grateful for this Ramadan?

Day 20: Have you ever done i'tikaf or qiyamul-layl in previous Ramadans? Are you doing any this time?

Day 21: Any feel-good dua acceptance stories to share? It could be your own story, a friend's, or even from a lecture that you heard

Day 22: What is something you always miss about Ramadan when it's over? / What do you think you might miss this year?

Day 23: Are you making dua for anything specific? (Any dua you want us to make for you?)

Day 24: Share an Eid memory that sticks out to you! What kind of Eid traditions do you have?

Day 25: Who is a sahaba (companion of the prophet ﷺ) that you feel inspired by? Can you share the story that inspires you?

Day 26: Your Laylatul-Qadr worship routine! Dhikr? Dua? Salah? Tell us!

Day 27: Mention a favorite story about the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, or which of his qualities you look up to the most.

Day 28: Think over the last month and the Ramadan that you've spent. Is there something you wish you had spent more time on? There's still 1-2 days left! What's your plan?

Day 29: Ramadan is our honorable yearly guest who is now preparing to leave 💔 What are 3 gifts Ramadan is leaving for you as a parting gift until we meet it again (inshallah) next year. It could be habits

Day 30 / BONUS DAY: If you were given an extra day to live, what would you do on that day?

EID: Eid Mubarak! Post a 3x3 or a 3x2 photoset of your eid celebrations! (Optional)

[lanterns-and-daydreams]

✨INTRODUCTION ✨

Hello, love! Welcome to my blog!

Name: 8-1-13-14-1-8

(Hint: corresponding letter!)

Age: O

(Hint: corresponding number!)

Favourite color: Blood Red and Emerald Green

Current occupation: Grayson Hawthorne's wife <3

Pronouns: she/her

I love-> reading, drawing, listening to music, poetry, writing stories, glitter, cats (my favourite breed are ragamuffins), cat memes, Grayson Hawthorne, Cardan Greenbriar, puzzles, riddles, mysteries in general, sunsets, sunrises, forests, the smell of books, pens, paper, violins, ballerinas, stars, the moon, creepypasta, anything related to space and a lot, LOT, more

Some facts about me:

I hate mushy foods

I know a lot of useless facts about random things

I refuse to approach new people but end up doing it anyway because I can't telepathically make them talk to me first

My favourite word is Decay (🔪)

I wanna learn how to play the violin and the piano

I wanna learn how to do the waltz and ballet

I really like photography

I can do traditional dances

Im Pakistani

It makes me very happy when cats look at me

I have licked copper sulphate before

No, i didnt go to the hospital

I love sweets and red velvet cake

I wanna live in Edinburgh

I can slay a winged eyeliner and I'm proud of it

I love mehndi (henna)

I love painting my nails

I can speak Urdu, English, Sindhi, and Punjabi and a lil bit of Spanish

Books I've read: The Folk of the Air series, The Inheritance Games series, Legacy of gods, Throne of Glass series, the grishaverse, the cat and mouse duet, City of Bones series, How to Kill a Mockingbird, Twilight, The Song of Achillies, Red, White and Royal Blue, Percy Jackson, Heroes of Olympus, Trials of Apollo, Camp Jupiter Classified, The Silent Patient, Once Upon A Broken Heart, The Hunger Games, and many many more

Books I'm going to read: A good girl's guide to murder, The Darkverse, Light lark, Powerless, Caraval series, The Empyrean series, Immortal Dark, I Fell In Love With Hope, every other Rinaverse book, Zodiac Academy, Shatter Me and a bajillion more <3

Tagging:

@never-enough-novels (Bhaavya, my first mutual and one of my best and favourite friends <3. Ilysm, girl)

@hearthown (Vivi, my absolute favourite person, I love your blog, and I love that we're friends. My other best and favourite friend. Ilysm <3)

@shuhuaspookie (ARIA ILYSM YOURE ADORABLE AND I ENJOY OUR TALKS AND I LOVE WHEN YOU TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DAY AND I HOPE WE STAY FRIENDS FOR A LOOOONGGGG TIME. LOVE YOUR CAT MEMES)

@f4iry-bell (SNI, DARLING, IT'S SO FUN TALKING TO YOU AHHHHHHH. LOVE THAT IM YOUR POOKIE, YOURE ALSO ONE OF MY FAV MUTUALS)

@berryzxx (mf ur fics are live laugh love. First muslim moot, Ilysmmmmm)

@ilov3b00kss0much (Sunny, hi! It's so nice knowing you, and I would love to get to know you more!)

@x-liv25-jamieswife (LIV MY WIFE. ILYSM. Talking to you is actually so fun I'm not even kidding. ALSO I LOVE UR HCS 👹)

Additionally: Hajirah! Hi! Can't tag you, but I would also love to get to know you more! Absolutely love that you reached out to me

Tagging people I'd like to get to know/get to know better:

@lyrakanefanatic @reminiscentreader @sophiesonlinediary @reyna-obsessed @mafiasliege @riddles-n-games @nqds @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @pink-mask-06

Divider: courtesy of @cafekitsune

[thenewrises]

enjoy my brain rambles (18+ MDNI)

idk the last time i did a theory/full lore post on anything since 17 year old me played mystic messenger in 2017 (IN FUCKING PHYSICS!!!!!) but for some reason 14 days with you has been on the forefront of my brain for over a year so. also it's so funny how not into yandere games/dark romance i was years ago but the moment i started college and started reading shit like ACOTAR (not dark romance but like... y'know... rhys...) i am like damn... what if someone was THAT into me me... (this does not include haunting adeline i fucking hate that book)

anyways sorry for the ramble!!!! some fun stuff i have found in the last idk few days of perusing old stuff, new stuff, etc.

also, a lot of hints i've found have been followed up by "👀". this is not the case with everything but just a lil tidbit i noticed! :)

The official 14DWY blog is @14dayswithyou

edit: put 18+ mdni in title because the game is 18+! should have mentioned that LOL

Ren's name!

I have been super interested in finding out his name, which i will send guesses sometime to the ask box when i have more as to not spoil anything if i'm right. BUT, i can share everything i have collected! i do know we will know more about him in day 7 possibly but i want to hopefully give some help if anyone wants to guess like me!

(Not In Name) ❌ - T, D, Z, S

(In The Name) ✅ - N, R, A, E

does not begin with - E, R, B, A, P

does not end with - N, L, Y

extras ⁃ 8 letters (could be more) ⁃ not traditionally masculine ⁃ american ⁃ emerald has three letters (E, A, R are my guesses) ⁃ clarence (two letters right spot) ⁃ emerson (one letter right spot) ⁃ marienne (one letter right spot) ⁃ his sister called him ren

so, with this in mind i have a few ideas. it seems the letter "R" is in the fourth position in his name. the letter "E" seems to be at the end of his name. i believe his name may be unisex or possibly more typically feminine, but he was named by his mother after her two friends (which i believe are Teo's relatives). some guesses about the name i have are: i believe his name may begin with an L or F, but this is just a guess i have but i do not believe it begins with a C. either "ren" is in his name altogether or another variation such as rien. but! this is just a theory (matpat... thank u).

some extras:

_ _ _ r _ _ _ e

edit: upon some scrolling before bed i am starting to believe their name may end in “rence” or “riene”. will update but that’s where i’m landing right now.

edit 2: may ALSO end in renie!

2. Ren's hands!

so we know ren has scarred hands from an accident prior to the events of the game before he ran from home. i don't know exactly what caused the scarring, but i believe it was some kind of altercation with his father from the sounds of it. it was said that ren left his mom in absolute hysterics when he left, so i believe there are a few things that could have happened.

i don't know if ren's father would hurt his mother but let's assume he wouldn't, maybe ren was presenting more masculine, talking back to his father, becoming a "threat" towards taylor, who knows! whatever happened, ren got into an altercation with taylor that ended in the scarring. I believe it has something to do with fire, taylor may have been set of fire somehow. maybe taylor wanted to burn the house down. OR, maybe ren tried to burn the house down with taylor in it...

it's possible that taylor may have tried to harm ren's mother that he attempted to save his mom and burn his father/harm his father. whatever happened, hana was not present for this as i believe this is when ren ran away from home IF this is how it happened.

maybe what happened to his hands was much longer before he left. i've seen some questioning that when leon had a birthday party, he invited hana but she did not go for reasons unknown. what this could mean is that something happened WHEN hana still lived there before she was sent off to school. maybe this was when ren got the scars on his hands. maybe taylor tried to harm ren due to him simply being male, maybe it was something else. maybe ren fought back. maybe taylor tried to hurt ren's mother, causing him to be punished by his father. all i know is, ren in an ask has said “I-I didn’t mean to… He— I didn’t have much of a choice…”

3. Playlist!

a while ago, saint put out this playlist and explained that characters and endings are connected to the songs. from other's guesses and my own curiosity, i went through and did some eliminations and found these to be the most possible to be connected:

shapeshift - ren

almost had me - violet

glimpse of us - leon

angel - ending

god complex - ending (possibly leon)

EDIT: gun - ending (most likely bad)

heart-shaped hologram - EDIT: I believe this is ren's introspection now

these could be inaccurate! but from what i have seen i think these are the best guesses for some of the songs. maybe i'll try to guess more in depth, but for now, this is just from what i've read up! 14 days also has the potential to be an ending, but once again this may be another post.

conclusion

i am so out of my mind. but it is so fun to evaluate lore i have always loved doing it and this game itched my brain. i reccommend this game if you're interested in horror and are 18+ then i say check out this game! read the warnings ahead of time, but i find it funky fresh

anyways womp womp, redacted come home, emo boy by ayesha erotica lookin' ass

[hauntedwitch04]

Becky’s Halloween party!

Welcome to my Halloween party! I really love this feast, and I wanted to celebrate it with you all. I know that I’m already late, but here I am. I took some prompts from the internet, hope you like it. I’ll try to post everyday, but I can’t assure anything, I'm so sorry.

With love, your Becky,💫

DAY 1: “You can’t go out with such a thin jacket in October, you gonna get a cold!” with Steve Harrington

DAY 2:  “I love this song. It totally gives me Halloween vibes.” with Timothee Chamalet

DAY 3: "If you keep eating so many sweets you will get cavities." "I eat you out practically every day and my teeth are practically perfect." with Sirius Black 

DAY 4: “You know darling, it’s dangerous to walk around after midnight.” with Azriel

DAY 5: “You are scared of a crow?” “It’s a fucking crow in the middle of the night in October, obviously I’m scared.” with Eddie Munson

DAY 6: "You know, honey, as much as it costs me to admit it, your pumpkin is much more beautiful than mine." "Of course, I am the queen of pumpkins." with Steve Harrington (x Henderson!Reader) 

DAY 7: "You saw the ghost, too." "Love...it was a fucking bedsheet." with tasm!Peter Parker. 

DAY 8: "Did you buy a fucking cauldron?" "All witches need their cauldron to make potions, you dummy." with Ben Barnes 

DAY 9: "If you keep singing the Nightmare Before Christsmas songs, I think I won't make it to Halloween in one piece." "But at least you'll know them all by the time we see it on Halloween night." "Tell me we're playing trick-or-treating, because this is a fucking treat." with Andrew Garfield 

DAY 10: "Trick or Treat." "I choose treat, but I know something sweeter than this candy." "And what would that be?" "You." with Remus Lupin

DAY 11:  "You are the cutest ghost I have ever seen." with Dad!Steve Harrington x daughter x Mom! Reader

DAY 12:  "Feel lucky that I share my treats with you." "I left all the chocolate to you." "That's why I love you." with Remus Lupin 

DAY 13: "Why do we have to choose a pumpkin, we already have X that it is an empty head." with Azriel 

DAY 14: "I love spending my days with you in front of the fire and u good horror book in my hands, because I finally feel at home." with Regulus Black 

DAY 15: "Remind me never to let you tell a scary story again, I will have nightmares for the next ten years." with Eddie Munson  (for my sister) 

DAY 16: "Strange as it may seem, I love walking through cemeteries at night. Everything is so scary, gloomy, and finally you feel really alive." "Love, I think it's time to stop reading Edgar Allan Poe." with Regulus Black 

DAY 17: "What was that sound?!" "You stepped on a twig." "Why are there twigs on the ground!?" "Why are we in a freaking forest!" with Sirius Black 

DAY 18: "I love reading during the rain, but you know what I love most? Reading during the rain with you in my arms, with your intoxicating scent of cinnamon and chocolate that smells like home." "Man! You give me diabetes." with Remus Lupin

DAY 19:  "God, I wish it was Halloween every day if I could see you in that dress. You're the sexiest witch I've ever seen." with Joe Keery 

DAY 20: "If you eat so many sweets, your stomach will hurt." "Oh come on, I'm not a child anymore." "Does your stomach hurt?" "Shut up before I punch you." with Rhysand 

DAY 21: "You won't be able to convince me to enter that abandoned house." "Okay." "What, you don't insist?" "No, because apparently you'd rather be alone in the surroundings of an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere." "Fuck you." with Loki 

DAY 22: "Would you like to watch Corpse Bride? I've already made hot chocolate and lit the fire." "Are you asking me to marry you?" "Why?" "Because it's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." with tasm!Peter Parker 

DAY 23: "Tonight there is a full moon. Do you want to go watch it?" "No, sorry I can't tonight, I turn into a werewolf." "What?" "Stupid, of course I feel like going to see the moon with you." with Andrew Garfield

DAY 24: "Remind me never to let you drink at a party again, you looked possessed." "Well, at least I was in theme with the party since it was for Halloween." with Timothee Chamalet 

DAY 25: "Oh my God, did you see that beautiful cat!" "I wouldn't go too close, it's a black cat." "Really? Are you afraid of black cats? I didn't think you were so superstitious." "Well I have a witch in front of me, so I believe in everything now." with Steve Harrington 

DAY 26: "We could watch Sleepy Hollow." "I'm not going to watch another horror movie just because Johnny Deep is in it." "But have you seen how hot he is?"  with Ben Barnes 

DAY 27: "Why are you dressed as Dracula?" "Because it's my Halloween costume?" "I thought we decided to go as JD and Veronica!" "Well look at it from that point of view, they're both dead." "So will you be in a little while when I kill you." with Sirus Black 

DAY 28: "You got me candles!" "Cinnamon and lavender, your favorite."  with Remus Lupin 

DAY 29: "Wow, what is that on your neck? Oh my God it's a bite! Did a vampire bite you? Are you going to be like Dracula? Oh my God, oh my God that's cool." "No man another animal bit me: my girlfriend." with Steve Harrington 

DAY 30: "I will never again take a drink offered by you." "Why? Don't you like them?" "No honey, I love them, but I am more and more convinced that you are a witch and that you put love potions, because the love I feel for you is beyond imagination." with Azriel 

DAY 31: “I fucking love Halloween Party!” with the Marauders 

[coffee-counts-as-a-meal]

"my blood is medicine"

no but tell me why out of everything that happened in this episode THIS is what broke my heart the most

(TLOU 1x05 "Endure and Survive" spoilers below)

I've seen some people comment about how show!Ellie feels younger than game!Ellie, like an actual 14-year old, where game!Ellie could have honestly passed as somewhere around 16ish just based on the way she carries herself. and I think that's honestly something they lean into a lot in the show, which ultimately strengthens it (i could write a whole other essay on the choices they made in changing certain aspects of Joel's character and relationship with Ellie and how it becomes SO MUCH MORE COMPELLING AND STRONGER AND THE BETTER FOR IT but that's a whole other thing)

and like. The dynamic between her and Sam (also de-aged canonically, which is HEARTBREAKING HE WAS SO TINY) feels so innocent. They're children and they're allowed to be children.

Also noticed how the moment from the game where Henry scolded Sam for merely picking up a toy was changed to Henry giving Sam crayons and ENCOURAGING HIM to draw and paint and have fun even when they're fighting to survive - it's not enough that Henry and Joel are fighting to protect their lives, but they're fighting to protect Ellie and Sam's childhood too. Letting them play soccer and steal comic books. Joel apologizing to Ellie and giving her space if she wanted it to talk about having to shoot Bryan. Henry saying "it'll be nice for Sam to have a friend," not just the practical cost-benefit analysis of what it'll mean to be traveling as a pack of four to Wyoming.

so Ellie telling Sam "my blood is medicine" hit me so hard not just because it's a last ditch-effort to save her friend. It's just so matter-of-fact in such a childish way. It's "it's okay, you skinned your knee, don't cry, I'll blow some magic fairy dust to make it feel better," it's an absolute belief in something that might not work but you kinda have to be a kid to even have that sort of faith in the first place.

when I was 13 my little sister had nightmares about that one chimpanzee that ate that lady's face (kids who grew up on dateline and late night news will know what I'm talking about) and couldn't sleep. she was around 8 at the time. I gave her a hair scrunchie and told her that if she spoke certain magic words, fairies would appear and fight whatever it was that came to harm her.

"My blood is medicine." "This scrunchie will protect you." These are the words of kids who truly believe that things will turn out okay - you wouldn't hear those words from adults, or at least they wouldn't be said in such a genuine way. Ellie genuinely believed her blood was medicine - she believed she could save her friend, magically, scientifically, whatever way you want to believe it could have worked. She's seen so much and been through so much, but she's still a kid whose first instinct is to go up to the other kid on the playground and comfort them - it's okay, my blood is medicine. You'll be okay. You're scared? I'm scared too. I'll stay up with you. Like a sleepover. We'll read comic books all night.

But her blood isn't medicine. And unlike Sam, eventually she'll have to grow up.