#Typo: A Young Writer's Life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

siampie · 8 months

Text

Risk and Reward||Chapter 1: When I Met You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: You have a hard time settling into your new life but with new acquaintances and newfound friendships. You slowly find your footing.

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains smut (not sure, don’t know how to write it but I’ll try), angst, fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood trauma

A/N: So, this is a first for me. Please be indulgent. I am no stranger to writing fiction. I’ve done it before just not on this platform. Also, this is my first time writing in 2nd POV and for Matt Murdock. There isn’t much of him in this chapter but I hope the small bits I have is as close as it is to his character. I did what I always do before writing fiction, read other writers' work and see how they capture the character and watched videos or episodes to get a good feel of the character. So, I hope you will like it. Feedback is welcome. And just enjoy! Also English is not my first language.

Chapter List || Next Chapter

Masterlist || Join my tag list

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

You gave me a reason for my being

And I love what I’m feelin’

You gave me a meaning to my life

Yes, I’ve gone beyond existing

And it all began when I met you

“Another day, another week.” You whispered to yourself as you stepped in the building where you work. You smiled quickly at the receptionist before making your way to the elevator. After you made the big move across the states, you were lucky to land a job as a proofreader in a publishing house. It wasn’t your dream job but it was the next best thing.

For as far as you can remember, you have always been taking care of your family. Many expectations and responsibilities were put on your shoulders from a very young age. So, when your brother stepped in and decided to move your father in with him, you felt some relief. A load was being taken off of your shoulders. You loved your family. But over the years, you had started to resent them slightly. You resented your father for being sick. You resented him for taking out his bad moods on you. You resented your siblings because they get to live their lives. You resented them for leaving you behind in the dust. You knew you loved them but you resented them. And you didn’t want to hate them. So, you left.

You made the move to Hell’s Kitchen, six months ago and you had big plans. First of which, was to properly kickstart your life. You didn’t think it would be easy. You knew it would have been a challenge but you didn’t think it would be that hard. After six months, you thought you would have made some friends or at least some acquaintances. But shy as you were, and as cautious as you were, making friends did not come easy for you.

You dropped your bag on the ground next to your chair. And dropped your coat on the back of it. Your desk was already stacked with manuscripts that needed to be proofread. You always started your day the same, first you read your emails and answered the most important ones. Then came coffee and then came reading with a red pen. You were to review any typos that may have somehow slipped past the author and the copy editor. You were also to review for issues like kerning and stacking and whether the running head is consistent. Proofreading was the last step before publication. You knew it was an important step, so you did it thoroughly. And you did it well. At least, you thought you did. Your boss had not complained about your work so far. And you took it as a good sign.

One of your coworkers stopped by your desk and softly called your name. You looked up at her. You knew her, you had barely interacted with her a few days before. She had long, red hair, that you loved, and legs for days. Her name was Amelia. A few nights ago, as you were leaving after workhours, she was standing outside of the building. A cigarette between her lips as she was looking for something.

“Excuse me?” She stopped you. You turned to her. “Do you have a lighter?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly. Your best friend from high school, had convinced you to buy a pack of lighter once. Telling you that it was the best way to meet people and to make friends. More precisely to meet your future boyfriend. “There you go.” You handed her the lighter.

“Thanks.” She lit her cigarette before giving it back to you. She took a long drag at it. The tension in her shoulders dropped. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at her and turned to leave.

“You’re that new proofreader, aren’t you?” She asked you.

“Yeah.” And you gave her your name.

“That’s a pretty name.” She remarked. “I’m Amelia.”

“Nice to meet you.” Amelia was not a proofreader. She was an acquisitions editor. The one, literary agents would come to, to sell a book. The book landed in her hands first, and if they made it past her, they landed in yours last.

You stayed with her long after she finished her cigarette. You walked with her because it was dark out. And Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t the safest place to be after dark. And there was strength in numbers. Coincidentally, your flat and hers weren’t that far apart. So, you walked her home before going to yours.

After that, you had not seen or heard much of Amelia. You thought that was it. But there she was, talking to you.

“So, some of us are going to grab a drink after work and I thought that maybe you would love to join us?” She sat on your desk.

“It’s barely 9 and you’re already thinking about the end of the day.” You scoffed lightly.

“Well, I need something to look forward to.” Amelia laughed. “So, wanna come?”

Your default answer was ready to come out of your mouth. You were already making up excuses to not go. And then you stopped yourself. Why shouldn’t you go tonight? There was no one waiting for you at home. You had no obligations. It could be a fun night out; you could even make a few new friends. Might even start a new friendship with Amelia. After all, she came to seek you out. She wanted to invite you.

“Why?” You had not meant to ask this out loud.

“What?”

“Why invite me? We barely talked to each other? Why ask me?”

“You said you just moved here in Hell’s Kitchen, remember?” Amelia gave you a tight smile. And you nodded at her words. “I figured I do the nice thing and invite you to come with us. Since, you don’t really know anyone here.”

Now, you felt stupid. You could feel your neck and cheeks heat up with your embarrassment. Not everyone was going to hurt you. There were good people in the world, you had to remind yourself of that.

“Sorry.” You apologized quickly. “I—I would love to come.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly.

“Good, I’ll come and get you when it’s time to go.”

You pressed your hands against your neck. If you could see yourself, you were sure there would be splotches of red all over it. Of course, you had to go and ask why? If “no” was your default answer most of the time, “why?” wasn’t too far behind. When your niece had first told you she loved you, your first answer wasn’t to say it back. It was to ask her why? And she had answered very sweetly: “Because you’re funny and you give the best hugs. And you always play with me.” And after that you never asked again. You only said it back. Because you did, you loved her very much.

You did not know why you did this. It was almost as though you did not believe that good things could happen to you. And if it did, it was not sincere. It was because someone wanted something from you and once, they got it. They’d leave you high and dry.

As the end of your day was nearing. Your anxiety was starting to get the better of you. You dreaded the moment Amelia would come and pick you up. You had agreed to it earlier because you genuinely wanted to. But now, all you wanted, was to go home. Not because you were drained or overstimulated. No, because you simply did not feel like going anymore. You were hoping she would forget about you. Or at least, it would have been cancelled.

It wasn’t cancelled. And you couldn’t just bail on them. It was the first time, since you arrived in Hell’s Kitchen, that you had been invited to hang out. If you bailed on them now, you might not be invited ever again. So, you went. And who knows, you might have some fun.

“Josie’s.” You read out as you stopped in front of the bar with Amelia.

“Yeah, it’s a dive bar, really.” Amelia told you quickly. “But the drinks good enough.”

“Okay.”

She pulled you in after her. You both stopped at the bar to order your drinks and she then took you to their table. It was a small gathering. You recognized a few people, there was the receptionist; Clara. Then, there was another proofreader, you had interacted with. Barely. His name was Sebastian and some other people. You sat next to Amelia.

As soon as you sat down, they resumed their conversations. You were a silent observer. You laughed at their jokes. You listened intently to what they were saying. And you were really brief when they asked you questions about yourself. And redirected the attention on someone else as quickly as possible. You did not want the spotlight to be on you.

While your coworkers were conversing with one another, you couldn’t help but glanced around you. Your eyes travelled over the numerous patrons in the bar. Bikers, blue collar workers and some white-collar workers. They were many. The bar seemed to be quite successful.

And then your eyes landed on him.

Dark haired, with red tinted glasses and a cane. His plump lips were begging to be kissed, his jawline was to die for. His hair looked soft to the touch and you were itching to run your fingers through them. His shirt was so tight that it left nothing to the imagination. You could tell that he was well built underneath it. And his smile—oh, his smile was the most beautiful, you’ve ever laid eyes on. It lit up his whole face. Made him look younger. He looked perfect in every way.

You quickly darted your eyes away. You did not want to be caught staring. However, it was too late. Unbeknownst to you, Amelia had caught you looking.

“So, you look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Amelia said as she pulled you to the bar, to grab another drink.

“I am.” You nodded. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“No problem.” Amelia nudged your shoulder. “Would you want to do it again sometimes?”

“Yes, but can we space them out?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” She snorted. “It’s only when the urge strikes.” And she turned away from you. She looked over her shoulder briefly. “So, someone caught your eye.”

“What? No.” You answered quickly.

“That’s not what I saw.” She smirked at you. Josie pushed your beers towards you. “You kept staring at glasses over there.” She waved her hand towards perfect man.

“No, I did not.” You protested while pulling her hand down.

“Oh, come on!” Amelia insisted. “It’s not a crime. He’s pretty and you have eyes. It’s okay to stare a little.”

“Stop.”

“But you know what would be even better?”

“I’m going to regret this.” You rolled your eyes in annoyance. “What?”

“If you spoke to the guy. What’s the worst that could happen?��

“Rejection.” You simply answered.

“Well, rejection is part of the game.” She shrugged. You gave out a deep sigh, and put your chin in the palm of your hand. “You got nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

Nothing to lose? Easy for her to say. After all, she wasn’t the one who had her heart broken, so many times, that there was barely anything left of it. When it came to the matters of the heart, you did not think that the risks were worth it. Even if it was for a Pretty Boy.

Your eyes landed on him again, in spite of yourself. His eyes seemed to be on you and Amelia. Almost as though he was directly looking at you. But he was blind, right? That would be impossible.

“You’re staring again.” She teased you. And you turned back to the bar quickly.

“Drop it.” You told her sternly. “It’s not worth it.” Her eyebrows went into her hairline. “Plus, a guy like him would never go for a girl like me.”

“What? Beautiful and sweet?”

“I’m not beautiful. I’m not ugly but I’m not beautiful. I’m average at best.” You shook your head. “And I’m not sweet.”

Amelia looked at you baffled by your defensiveness over compliments. You acted as though she insulted you. She pushed your beer away from you.

“First, those were compliments and not insults. So, take them.” Amelia said. “And why would he go for someone else when he could go for you?”

“You’re being this nice to me over a lighter?”

“It’s not just about the lighter.” She told you. “You walked me home. You didn’t have to but you did. It was very kind and sweet. Thus, proving my point. You are sweet.”

“It was practical. My flat isn’t too far away from yours. And it was as much for your safety as it was for mine.” You shrugged. “It’s dangerous at night in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Amelia rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration. “You are going to take that compliment. I will beat it into you, if I have to.”

“That would be assault.”

“You thing you’re funny, uh?”

“I think I’m adorable.”

“Bitch, you’re testing my patience.” And that got a laugh out of you. She shook her head and laughed with you. “You really are annoying.”

“That’s more like it.” You grinned at her. “Want me to walk you home again?”

“Yeah,” She nodded and clinked her beer with yours. “We finish our drinks and then, we’re good to go.”

“Okay.”

She waved her finger at you. “But this conversation is not over.”

“What conversation?” You retorted, taking on a faux air of innocence.

Amelia glared at you which elicited a chuckle out of you. “Put a few drinks in you and you turn into a comedian. Who would have thought?”

“I could have mentioned it. Save you some time.”

“Do you need to have an answer to everything?”

“Should I answer that or--?”

“Oh, shut up.” And you snorted.

She raised her beer to her lips and toss it back. She gulped the rest of the bottle down and slammed it back onto the counter. Both of your empty bottles were left on the counter and you walked back to your small group of friends. On your way there, your eyes automatically found Pretty Boy, once again. Again, his gaze seemed to be on you and you dropped your eyes to the ground immediately. Feeling guilty that you were staring again, you let out a long sigh and muttered to yourself. “If he’s ever going for someone, it would be for Amelia.”

“There you go.” Amelia handed you your coat and bag. “What are you muttering to yourself again?”

“What do you mean again?” You asked stunned, blood rushing to your neck and cheeks. “You caught me doing that a lot?”

“You are not really trying to hide it.” Amelia shrugged. “So, what was it?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.” You pouted while you put on your coat.

“Was it about Pretty Boy?” She smirked at you.

“Oh, stop!” You said as sternly as possible with your lips jutted out in a pout. “It wasn’t about Pretty Boy.”

“Hmm,” She nodded smugly. “I’ll pretend I believe that.” She laced her arm with yours as you both exited the bar.

“He is really pretty.” You smiled shyly. Amelia’s shoulder nudged yours, as she giggled along with you.

“Next time, we see him. You’re talking to him.” You groaned at her words.

That night was the first time, you ever laid eyes on him. And you thought it would be the last time.

What were the chances for you to stumble upon him in this city ever again? He could be living outside of the city. Or it was only chance that brought him there tonight. And this was a once in a lifetime chance to meet the love of your life. And you blew it.

“Shut up!” You groaned as you slapped your forehead. “I did not blow my chance because there wasn’t one to begin with.”

“Voices in your head?” Amelia put down the lighter next to you.

“They’re really loud today.” You shook your head. “And you don’t have to bring it back all the time. You can keep it.”

“I won’t have an excuse to come and see you. anymore”

“You don’t really need one.” You sighed.

“True.” She smirked. “Wanna go to Josie’s tonight?”

“What are we celebrating?” You retorted.

“Nothing.” Amelia shrugged. “I thought maybe we could blow off some steam.” She shrugged and sat down on your desk. “Seeing as those last two months were kinda crazy.”

“Yeah, they were.” You agreed. “I mean we are nearing the end of the season.”

As it were in the publishing world, books are published in a three-season cycle: Winter, Summer and Fall. Winter season came to a close by the end of April and the datelines were getting closer. For the last two months, you and your team had been working nonstop. You and the author of the book you were proofreading, were going back and forth about editing issues he had. And his anxieties regarding the matter were also affecting you. Under pressure and anxious, you and your coworkers had no time to go back out.

“I could use the break.” You leaned back in your chair. “And a couple of beers.”

“It’s a date.” Amelia got back on her feet. “Meet you by the reception desk.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Amelia and you were on the sidewalk in front of Josie’s. She was smoking a cigarette before you both get in.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Amelia asked you.

“I like the smell of it.” You shrugged.

She took another puff before she elbowed your side. You glared at her. Her pointy elbow dug into your side painfully. “What’s that for?”

“It seems you’re in luck tonight.” She looked down at you. And with a jerk of her head, she indicated at something behind you.

You turned around and there he was. Tapping his cane on the sidewalk, holding the arm of a beautiful blonde. There was a man, blonde also, walking on his other side. Pretty Boy’s tie was loose around his neck and slightly crooked. A giant smile was on his face as the beautiful lady on his side threw her head back in laughter. You kept your eyes on their little group as they disappeared into the bar.

“Alright, tonight’s the night.” Amelia took a last puff out of her cigarette.

“What?” You turned to her confused.

“We agreed that next time we see him here, you would talk to him.”

“I did not agree to anything. You agreed with yourself.” You told her as she started to drag you toward the bar. “Amelia, stop!” You pulled your arm away from her.

“What are you so afraid of?” Amelia huffed in annoyance.

“Rejection. Humiliation. Mortification. Embarrassment.” You started to list out.

Sure, he was handsome. He was painfully handsome. And although, you had thought of his lips on yours, of his hands running through your hair as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Your hands flew to your ears at the thought. They warmed up as your blood rushed to them. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t talk to him.

“I’m perfectly fine with watching him from afar.” You said quietly, dropping your hands. “Can we go somewhere else, please?” You crossed your arms over your chest, making yourself as small as possible.

She dropped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side. “We already here, so we might as well go in.” You started pulling away from her. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. Relax.” She pulled you back in and turned you towards the doors.

“Promise?” You put your pinky out.

“Promise.” She hooked her pinky with yours.

In most situations, you weren’t afraid to go after what you wanted. Of course, you had to pass it through a few people first. Just to make sure you were making the right decision. Especially, when it came to your job. But when it came to relationships—romantic ones, you never took the first step. You were always afraid that the people you wanted—you desired—wouldn’t want you back. Which explains your lack of experiences when it came to dating. And the disappointing sexual experiences you had.

You sat at the bar and ordered your beer. Amelia sat beside you but kept looking over her shoulder. You turned briefly to where she was looking. And surely enough, she was looking directly towards Pretty Boy and his friends. You sighed and turned back around.

“You promised, remember?” You told her. “Pinky promised. Those are sacred.”

“Yeah, I know.” She pouted and turned back around. “You’re going to regret it later.”

“Don’t I know it?” You exhaled deeply.

How many times have you let someone go before you were too afraid to speak? How much longer will you stay up at night wondering about what ifs? How much longer will you stand in the way of your own happiness? How much longer will you live in fear?

There was comfort in fear. It kept you on your toes. It told you where the edge was. It helped you survive. There was nothing wrong with fear. There were no broken hearts, no hurt feelings. It was safe.

And yet—you wished you could take that step. You knew you could. You’ve done it before. You left the comfort of your home. Of everything you’ve known to come here in Hell’s Kitchen. What was the worse that could happen in talking to him? Nothing, right? It was just talking. A simple conversation between two people. Or maybe, you would just give him your number. He could call you if he wanted to. If not—well, you would keep wondering why he didn’t call you. The thought of it was torture enough.

You glanced back over your shoulder at Pretty Boy. He was no longer sitting with his friends. His coat was still there on the back of his chair, but he was gone. You turned back to your drink, and sorrowfully starting to play with the condensation on your beer.

“What can I get you, Murdock?”

“Just another beer, Josie, thanks.”

You turned your eyes towards the voice. And there he was. So, much more handsome up close. His voice was nice and deep. Music to your ears. You turned your eyes away from him. Your heartbeat was now racing in your ribcage. You looked up at the ceiling, searching for some sort of answers.

“Hey, I’m gonna go out for a smoke.” Amelia announced slamming her bottle on the counter.

“I’ll come with you.” You squeaked out.

“You should definitely stay and enjoy yourself.” Amelia pulled her hair out of the collar of her coat. “I’ll be back in a moment. You should—you know strike up a conversation or two.” And she pointedly looked at the man by your side.

You gasped as she left. “You promised!” You called after her. “Pinky promised.”

“What did she promise?” Pretty Boy asked you. A grin plastered on his face.

You took a few minutes to answer, your eyes following Amelia’s exit out of the bar. And let out a breath. “To not make me do something I didn’t want to do.”

“And what was it? The thing you didn’t want to do.”

You couldn’t help the small grin that came onto your face before you answered. “Striking up a conversation with someone.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Why not?”

“It’s kind of terrifying for me to—talk to people.” The blood was rushing to your chest, your heart was slamming against your ribcage.

“You’re talking to me now.” His voice seemed lower as he spoke.

You scoffed. “True. I am.”

“How does it feel?” His lips twitched up at the corners.

“Not as terrifying as I thought.”

He chuckled. And you smiled at the sound. “I’m Matt.” He extended his hand out to you.

You put your hand in his. Your breath hitched in your throat as your skin touched his. You cleared your throat before giving him your name.

“You have a pretty name.” He told you.

“You make it sound prettier.” You quipped back, feeling braver now. His eyebrows flew high on his forehead before he let out a laugh. You laughed along with him. “Nice to meet you, Matt.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He nodded, this boyish grin never leaving his face.

That was the night you officially met Matt Murdock. It wasn’t as daunting as you thought it would be. In fact, speaking with Matt came easy to you. His eyes were unseeing and yet, they were always on you. And for once in your life, you did not mind the attention.

You didn’t think anything life altering would come of it. If anything, you thought you were gaining another friend.

Little did you know…

Chapter List || Next Chapter

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #Spotify #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you

127 notes · View notes

kuwajima · 7 months

Note

I see writers do different perspectives so im curious as to urs

Do u see Zenitsu as the shameless pervert type or the woman respecter type

I’m personally the latter but I’ve seen different ways he’s written

I love this question! Also sorry if there are typos, I’m replying to this at work lol

I don’t think he’s a pervert. The anime certainly plays up his “creepiness” towards girls but overall he doesn’t really exhibit really perverted traits. I think he likes girls a lot, is easily manipulated by girls, and lacks a lot of social skills that would allow an average person to not act like that.

I think the main reason I don’t think he’s a pervert is because Zenitsu’s behavior doesn’t seem to be sexually driven. Not that he isn’t sexually attracted to women (he’s a teenager boy and clearly likes girls) but he’s very specifically looking for a wife and to live a normal life. We know he was taken advantage of by girls over and over again (presumably at an incredibly young age!) with seemingly no reward on his end (he didn’t even hold their hands!) and yet he kept doing it! This happened multiple times before Jigoro found him! On a conservative estimation, that’s 7 “girlfriends” by age 14, but honestly I think Jigoro rescued him at a younger age (there’s no way he learned all that and also got struck by lighting. There had to be some down time…also I’m writing a fic about that down time lol)

Anyway, I get the impression that Zenitsu believes he is expected to get married and thinks that it will resolve a lot of his internal problems if he can behave like a normal person and live a normal life. But as an orphan, he doesn’t really understand what a typical family or married couple looks like, it’s all based on perception or stories. Zenitsu craves affection and stability and honestly, why wouldn’t marriage be the best way to achieve that? I think a lot of the behavior is because he doesn’t really understand how he’s supposed to act and doesn’t realize how is is coming across in the moment. Zenitsu knows people don’t like him, but also doesn’t seem to be able to stop his reactions. Despite being perhaps the most socialized of his friend group, although he understands what is considered polite or acceptable he can’t actually adhere to those guidelines himself. Sorry, this is now a tangent about my perception of Zenitsu’s behavioral issues. I actually did touch on this in the second chapter of my Zenitsu character study! Jigoro asks why Zenitsu wants a girlfriend and he answers in a childish way about wanting to hold her hand and live in a house with her.

He does respect women though. He has a beef with Daki because she hurt a girl! There are also zero scenes of him ogling women while undercover at a literal brothel (he does get flustered when they first arrive to the city, but again it doesn’t seem like he’s sexually excited, he’s flustered about seeing beautiful girls and runs off because he’s overwhelmed) which they easily could have added if they wanted to. But they didn’t, because he’s overall very respectful towards girls. Especially after deciding that he likes Nezuko (who he likes because she is pretty and because Tanjiro describes her as being kind, kinder than any girl Zenitsu has “dated.”) In the light novel, he also fully respects when a girl he thought was into him was clearly involved in someone else. He understands that he misinterpreted her behavior towards him and wishes her the best in her relationship. He doesn’t seem to hold any ill will towards his ex-girlfriend either. The anime has him attempting to flirt with Aoi occasionally (although she is canonically the only type of girl Zenitsu doesn’t like) which I think it intended for laughs but idk if it’s very effective. He really does seem singularly focused on Nezuko in the manga (and according to the light novels, there are plenty of Corp Members who fantasize about having another Corp Member as their girlfriend, to the point that it doesn’t seem weird that he talks about Nezuko “waiting for him,” although the other members don’t think she’s a real girl at all)

IN SUMMARY I think Zenitsu likes girls in a perfectly normal, affection-starved teenage way, but he lacks emotional regulation which makes him seem off-putting. But he’s not perverted, he’s just enthusiastic and we’re used to having perverted anime men in shonen and just expect him to fall into that category despite his behavior not really matching that trope.

I would also argue that he cannot be a shameless pervert because he clearly feels a lot of shame, very often lol

#sorry this is long I have a lot of thoughts about Zenitsu

37 notes · View notes

el-ly-sha-give-no-f · 1 year

Note

Hiii could you do a one shot on hakim Ziyech where he is married to the reader who is of Moroccan origin and he is a son Nahil who is 1 year old he looks a lot like Hakim but in a smaller version and his daddy's son he is constantly in the Hakim's arm which makes Hakim laugh because his wife sulks every time because when Nahil sees his father he stretches his arms towards him and when Hakim has to go to training he cries he sees his dad leave and the reader and lanpenfa't 1h to calm him down with these tears plsss 💕

My Little Clone

Pairing: Hakim Ziyech x female!reader

Warning: non just pure fluff

Words: 2106

Writer Note: sorry i've been silent for couple of months cause i've been busy with my editing, school and a lot more, but i'm back now, if you made a request before, please send it to me again. Thank you, enjoy this one. Thank you anon <3

P/s: not edited, grammar mistake and typo ahead!

Hakim Ziyech is a successful professional soccer player, playing for one of the top teams in Europe. He's known for his fast dribbling and accurate shooting, and is often called "The Magician" due to his ability to dribble past several defenders before scoring a goal. In addition to his talent on the field, Hakim is also known for being a devoted husband and father.

His wife Y/n and their 1-year-old son Nahil, is always proud to watch him play. His wife supports him from the stands and completely different comparing to their son, Nahil will be cheering on his dad, and waving to him when he saw him on the field and Hakim will smile and waving at his son or give him a flying kiss, their one-year-old son going to be the one who truly steals the show. Despite being so young, He already has a strong bond with his father. When Hakim is at home, he is always holding Nahil in his arms, making him laugh and giggle with his playful antics

☆☆☆☆☆

Hakim looked over at Y/n as she sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. He knew she was pretending to sulk, but he could not help but laughing at her wife cuteness.

"You okay, Y/n?" he asked, settling down beside her. "I'm fine," she reply to her husband while she doing a crossed hand on her chest, her eyes still glued to the screen.

Nahil, who was sitting on Hakim's lap, stretched out his arms towards his father. "Dada! Dada!" he squealed; his little voice filled with excitement. Hakim chuckled and lifted Nahil up, kissing his cheek.

"Hey buddy, what's up?" he asked, making silly faces at his son. Y/n rolled her eyes but could not help but smile at the sight. She knew she had no right to be jealous of her husband and son's bond, but she could not help it. As much as she tried to pretend otherwise, she loved seeing them together.

Nahil started bouncing in his father's arms, his laughter filling the room. In that moment, Y/n felt a surge of happiness wash over her. She was lucky to have such a wonderful family, even if it did make her feel a little like a third wheel at times. Hakim noticed Y/n's expression and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You're never a third wheel, honey. You are the most important member of this family," he said sincerely. Y/n smiled, feeling a warm glow settle in her chest.

She knew deep down that Hakim was right, but hearing it from him still meant the world. As Nahil snuggled into his father's chest, Y/n leaned her head on Hakim's shoulder. She knew she couldn't ask for a better life than this - a husband who loved her unconditionally, a son who idolized him, and a home filled with love and laughter. She was the luckiest girl in the world.

☆☆☆☆☆

The trio spent the night relaxing on the couch, Nahil giggling and kicking his legs as he snuggled in Hakim's arms. Y/n couldn't help but watch them with a smile, her heart swelling with love for her happy family. She knew she was lucky to be a part of it

Hakim was the first to speak, breaking the comfortable silence. "You know, Y/n, sometimes I feel like the luckiest man in the world," he said, his eyes fixed on their son's sweet face. "I know," she replied, placing a hand on his leg. "You always say that when Nahil gets particularly adorable." Hakim chuckled.

"I can't help it. He's just so perfect, you know? And I'm so grateful to have both of you in my life." Y/n smiled, feeling a lump form in her throat. She knew what he was saying was true, but it still meant so much to hear it from him.

As Hakim, Y/n, and Nahil settled in for the night, the room was filled with the sound of laughter and happy chatter. They spent the evening playing with Nahil, taking turns chasing him around the living room and tickling him until he was giggling so hard and he couldn't breathe, the origin Moroccan woman couldn’t help but feel a tug at her heartstrings every time her son ran into his father's arms.

She could tell that Hakim loved him fiercely, and it made her feel grateful to have such a loving and devoted husband and father for her son. Even with the laughter and the play, there was something deeper that connected the trio. They were a unit, a family that loved each other unconditionally.

☆☆☆☆☆

By the time Hakim left for training, Nahil's protests grew louder and more desperate, until he was outright sobbing in Y/n's arms.

“I want Dada!”

“Nahil your dada needs to go to work you know, so that he can buy you a lot of toys”

Despite her best efforts, she cannot really seem to soothe him, and the sound of his cries echoed in her ears long.

☆☆☆☆☆

As the day drew to a close, Y/n settled in for what she hoped would be a peaceful evening with her husband and son. She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard Hakim's key in the door, Y/n settled down on the couch with Nahil sleeping soundly in her lap. Hakim settled down next to her, taking her hand in his, and she smiled at him cheerfully.

“Assalamualaikum” he greets her wife

“waalaikummusalam” his wife replies to his greet.

"I missed you today," Y/n said, her voice filled with warmth.

Hakim leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I missed you too, Y/n," he said softly

“He cried earlier when you left the house” Y/n tell her husband

“I know, I’ve heard him, he’s quite loud, can’t even know how you handle him, you’re a pro!” Hakim compliments his wife and they both laugh softy due to not wanting their son to wake up but Nahil seemed to know his father's presence.

Their son stirred on Y/n's lap, his brown eyes that cloning his dad, open slowly. As soon as he saw her dad already home, he quickly gets up from her mother lap and jump into his father arms and hug him.

“Hello buddy, you sleep well?” Hakim asks his son and he can feel that his son reply with a single nod on his shoulder

“Good, mama said that you cried when I left earlier, why?”

“I don’t want dada to leave, I want to play with dada”

Y/n looked at her husband and son, she felt her heart swell with love and gratitude. She knew that life wasn't always easy, but with them by her side, she felt ready to face whatever came their way.

“Nahil, dada need to go to work”

“why” their son asks Hakim and Hakim looking at his wife, y/n shrug.

“Well, boy, so that we can go out and eat some delicious food, buy you a new toy and a lot more, don’t you want that?” Hakim explains

Nahel nods

“After this, no more crying, okay?” hakim told his son

“okay!” He sequels.

Hakim kiss him on the cheek softly.

☆☆☆☆☆

Today, a match between Chelsea Vs Spurs, Hakim prepared for the match, he could feel the pressure weighing heavily on him. He knew that the eyes of millions of fans were on him, and he couldn't afford to make any mistakes. As he stepped onto the field, he could feel the energy from the crowd, but he didn't let it distract him. He was focused, and he was determined to win the match for his team.

When the match progressed, Hakim became more and more impressive.

His dribbles were fast and precise, and his shots were accurate.

The crowd was on the edge of their seats, and his teammates were cheering him on.

But it was when he scored a goal in the dying minutes of the match that the crowd became truly electric.

Hakim ran to the corner flag and jumped up and down searching for his little family. The noise from the crowd was deafening, but he could still hear the sound of Nahil, who was cheering loudly for his dad. Hakim pointing at his son that is in Y/n’s arms, to sign that the goal was dedicated to him and his wife.

☆☆☆☆☆

After the match, Hakim doing the post-match interview, He was asked all sorts of questions: about the match, about the goal.

Journalist: Congratulations on a brilliant performance today, Hakim! Can you walk us through your goal?

Hakim: Thank you, it was great to be able to contribute to the team's victory. The goal was a result of good teamwork and timing. My teammate passed me the ball, and I was able to take advantage of the open space to make a run and get into a scoring position. It was a great feeling to see the ball cross the line and the crowd celebration.

Journalist: And overall, how do you feel about your team's performance today?

Hakim: I think we played well and followed our manager's game plan. We were able to control possession and play in the opponent's half. We also created plenty of chances and were clinical with our finishing. Overall, it was a solid team performance and a good result.

Journalist: And finally, who do you dedicate your goals to today, Hakim?

Hakim: Well, first and foremost, I have to dedicate these goals to my family, including my wife and son who is on the stand tonight, and who is always support and motivate me. They're my biggest fans, so I want to give them a special shout-out and I'm grateful for their support.

Journalist: Congrats again on a great performance today, Hakim. Thank you for your time. We'll let you go so you can celebrate with your family and your team

☆☆☆☆☆

Hakim made his way into the locker room, his blood pumping with adrenaline and excitement after the big win. As he entered, his teammates greeted him with high-fives and congratulations, and he smiled back at them, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment.

But the moment he had really been looking forward to was the moment he would get to hug his son and see his wife's smiling face. He could hardly wait to share the excitement of the win with them.

As he walked out of the locker room, he saw them waiting for him—his son running towards him with a huge smile on his face, and his wife standing there with her arms open wide. Hakim scooped his son up into his arms, feeling his little body wiggle and laugh as he swung him around in a circle. His wife came over and embraced him, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and he felt a rush of joy and love wash over him.

He held his son close, feeling the little heartbeat against his chest, and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for his family. They were the ones who made him feel strong and supported, and he knew that he could face anything with them by his side.

"Dada, you're so amazing!" Nahil exclaims after one particularly spectacular goal.

Hakim cannot help but smile. "Thanks, mini-me, did you see the goal?" he ask

"yes!yes!" Hakim smile and ruffling Nahil's hair.

☆☆☆☆☆

"You know, Y/n," Hakim began, breaking the comfortable silence, "I know that sometimes I'm not around as much as I'd like to be. And I know that it's not always easy for you to take care of our son when I'm gone, but I just want you to know that I appreciate everything you do."

Y/n smiled and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "I know, Hakim. And I appreciate you too. You work so hard to provide for our family, and I am proud of you and I’m sure Nahil too. I love you both so much, and I wouldn't trade our life together for anything in this world."

Hakim pulled her closer, and they sat there in comfortable silence, listening to the soft sounds of their sleeping son. It was moments like these that reminded them just how lucky they were to have one another, and they knew that they would always have each other's backs, through thick and thin.

It was a moment he would always cherish, filled with happiness and love, and he felt grateful for everything in his life. He was blessed to have a family that loved and supported him, and he was determined to do all he could to make them proud.

☆☆☆☆☆

#hakim ziyech fanfic #hakim ziyech imagines #hakim ziyech x reader #hakim ziyech one shot #hakim ziyech #football fic #football one shot #football x reader #football imagine #football #footballer x reader #football fanfic #football imagines #hakim ziyech imagine #football fluff

129 notes · View notes

inkwingsinc · 4 months

Note

Question round (I love these so much)

1. What made you decide to become a writer? (was it always something you knew you wanted to do or did it come to you later on in life.)

2. What was your favourite genre’s growing up? (could be a genre from movies or books)

3. What is your proofreading process like?

4. How do you stay motivated in your writing process?

That’s it for my question round 😂.

ps. Any chance for an update this week? 🙏 ❤️

This is so cute omg, thank you for the questions I love them too! <3333

I didn't really decide to be a writer, it just became a hobby organically in childhood. I wrote my first "story" at age 6 because I was obsessed with R.L. Stine kid's horror stories and the "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" series (and at age 8 I got in trouble for bringing my mom's Stephen King books to class LOL). It's always something I've just kind of *done*. I work in an unrelated field to publishing but I write a lot for work, so I think the hobby has served me well outside of stories, too.

Horror!!!! Scifi and fantasy were a close second in a cozy lil tie. In young adulthood I got really into romance which had some uhhhhh interesting interactions with my previous predilections

My proofreading process is chaotic and 100% novice. I write like a demon on crack for the first draft, and then a day or so later I'll sweep through it with a blowtorch and do a hack-job of copy-pasting entire passages into the order I want them. I catch myself switching tenses OFTEN because the tense I imagine stories in is different than the tense I write in (so there are quite a few typos I'll have to fix on the back end when I complete my fics/stories). Also I get "sticky" on certain words. I keep trying to put the word "ameliorate" in damn near everything I write and I have to go back and beat myself with a stick to remove it from appearing 3000 times (I think I may have been successful so far...)

Motivation? I don't know her *cries* This might be an unpopular answer but for me writing is an entirely passive process. My imagination runs laps around my actual writing speed so a lot of it is just me sitting in front of my laptop and being Tortured By Visions until I'm satisfied. This has unfortunately led me to take long hiatuses from stories (RIP Sanguine Witch est. 2018) because if my mind isn't chewing on it, the words don't come.

BONUS: I am trying to update tomorrow but I'm a horrible little gremlin that keeps deleting paragraphs. I appreciate everyone's patience <3

#ask games are fun!#asked and answered #inkwings rambles #once again I have produced a wall of text and I am extending my humblest apologies

10 notes · View notes

nophunleague · 2 months

Text

stare decisis: chapter five - amica

amica: latin for friend

masterlist

wc: 1142

rafael barba x original female character

Quinn holds a hand over her mouth as the squad watches the vile poor excuses for audition tapes recorded by Brubeck that had been turned over by his attorney.

“This is horrendous,” Carisi says as Barba stops the most recent tape in their viewing session. “But it’s all legal, every movie he’s shot since Forbes died was in a state with a low age of consent plus a mistake of age defense,” the steam is virtually blowing out of everyone’s ears, frustrated with the unbelievably smart pedophile.

Barba and Quinn have both removed their blazers, Quinn was surprised to learn that he’s a suspenders man. Quinn chose a button down and pencil skirt combo for the day, the first two or three buttons of the top remaining unbuttoned so it didn’t choke her.

“He’s methodical,” Barba flips through the DVD booklet, every DVD is labeled with the actress’s name, date of birth, and the state it was filmed in. That is until he reaches the last one, his finger rests on it as the gears in his mind turn quickly. Quinn, who had been sitting next to him, cranes her neck to be able to read the writing on the DVD.

“Winnipeg,” they say simultaneously, glancing at each other then to Liv.

“Did he ever make a movie in Winnipeg?” she asks the squad, Carisi responds that no, he never did. Amaro and Rollins are suddenly racing out to hitch a plane ride to Canada which leaves a confused Carisi.

“Winnipeg isn’t in our jurisdiction?” he asks, and as Rafael is winding up to make a comment on the young detective’s lack of legal knowledge Quinn swoops in.

“Barba, save him the torment, he would have to take a class on international law for him to even know the statute we’re talking about,” Quinn stands and pats Sonny on the back, she explains, “traveling to another country for the sole purpose of having intercourse with a minor is a federal crime.”

Once Liv and Sonny have left the office Rafael and Quinn return to their respective offices, working on finding everything they can about this movie that was supposed to be filmed in Canada. She’s just finished typing a subpoena for the Writers’ Guild requesting the script for the Winnipeg movie. She leaves her desk and ventures to Rafael’s office. His head is down, well until she throws the document down on his desk.

“Can I help you?” he huffs.

“My subpoena for the Writers’ Guild. Proof read it before I file it? I’ll do yours,” she offers. Of all the things she’s faced in life, a typo in a court document is one of the most harrowing things to experience. He looks to the document, then to her, then to the document again.

“You’ve already finished your subpoena?” she nods.

“And I called a friend that I have at DOJ, she’ll be here in an hour. Figured we could loop them in, since it’ll be their charges,” again, eyes to the file, to her, then to the file.

“You’ve done all of that in,” he checks the rather large watch on his wrist, “an hour?” She moves forward, placing her hands on the edge of his desk, leaning on it.

“Asked and answered counselor. And I would have gotten more done if you had already finished your subpoena,” she kisses her teeth and pushes herself back off of the desk. “I’ll see you in an hour, it’s my friend, so in my office,” he watches her walk away and calls after her.

“That wasn’t asked and answered, it was two separate, distinct questions!”

***

“Hi there, I was paged here by some big shot ADA.” a woman’s authoritative voice permeates through the closed doors of both Quinn and Rafael’s office’s. Rafael doesn't recognize the voice, but Quinn does. She's instantly sticking her head outside of her door.

“Sahar al-Kazmi, look what the cat dragged in,” she crosses her arms over her chest as she leans against the doorframe. They’re both beaming as soon as they make eye contact but they stay unmoving.

“That would make you the cat would it not?” Quinn shrugs.

“I’ve been called worse,” she looks up as if she were exploring the filing cabinets of her mind. “Like bitch.”

The pair laugh then finally hug, it’s been seven or so years since they worked together. Rafael finally peaks out of his office.

“Is this your pain in the ass co-counsel,” Sahar stares him down as she asks. Quinn wouldn’t believe it save for the fact that she saw it, Rafael actually shrunk back into his clothing.

“Agent Sahar al-Kazmi, this is ADA Rafael Barba. Barba this is Sahar, she’s with the FBI,” they shake hands, share polite greetings. “Let’s move this to my office.” Quinn sits at her desk, Rafael leans against it next to her both watching Sahar as she inventories the contents of the office, Quinn’s eyes follow her closely.

“So you guys used to work together?” Rafael breaks the momentary silence, Sahar’s head snaps toward him.

“We did, about 7 years ago. It was a different world then,” she looks to Quinn who has started pulling files out to show her.

“So, we’ve got this teeny-bopper movie producer who is methodical in making sure he can exploit underage girls legally. But - and our squad is working on digging up more on this - he traveled to Winnipeg a few years ago to audition an underage girl for a new movie. But the movie was never made,” Quinn explains, showing Sahar corresponding documents as she goes.

“So you guys are thinking sexual tourism,” Sahar concludes, looking to Quinn then to Barba who nods. Sahar teeters her head back and forth in thought then speaks again, “I think you guys have a compelling case, let me take all of this and we’ll pick him up as soon as we can,” Barba is immediately shaking his head.

“You unfortunately don’t know our squad, they want to be the ones to collar this guy,” he explains with his hands, probably already being able to hear Olivia’s disdain in his head.

“I don’t know, this really isn’t your guys' jurisdiction,” Sahar starts to say before Quinn begs Sahar.

“Please Sahar, let them get him. I’ll call you as soon as we have him in custody,” Rafael watches as Quinn’s typically hardened exterior fractures just a little bit so that she can beg her friend. Sahar groans but agrees, the lawyers both thank her graciously and Rafael rushes off to call Liv with an update, leaving Quinn and Sahar alone.

Sahar takes the time to again inventory the office, it’s largely devoid of Quinn’s personal touch.

“Nothing from the Sandpit?” she asks.

“Like you said, it was a different world back then. It was another life that I don’t like reliving.”

#svu #law and order svu #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #amanda rollins #fin tutuola #nick amaro #olivia benson #original character #sonny carisi

15 notes · View notes

khepiari · 2 months

Text

Rant Post: Imagine crying over fanfic stats! Laughable!

Imagine crying over fanfic stats! Over fanfic. If you don’t have enough fics, write your own stories. If you don’t have enough art, make it. These days, people think fandom exists for just creating content!

If you are a passive fan then behave like one. No one owns you shit, and using words like “misogyny” and “comphet” will not help your cause. And this obsession with numbers! The AO3 site works on how you use your brains to find the fic you want to read. Suck it up. There is no pot of gold sitting for the shippers at the end of topping these rainbow stats.

There is so much mutual clowning that happens outside the AO3 website and Twitter spaces too! People have Discord channels, Facebook groups, events, zines, and Instagram broadcasting channels to share their love for their fandoms and ships.

Yet here we are, people obsessed with AO3 stats.

And when people are willing to create new things for their respective fandoms, there is a dearth of interaction. A plant can grow from the cracks of the concrete, but it will need sunlight, water, and nutrition to blossom flowers. For fandom creators be it wlw or mlm or gen creators; positive and supportive interactions are their light, water and soil.

How can you expect to be fed but not reciprocate in return? If you don’t do the bare minimum of hyping your creators, what's the point of being in a fandom? Why will someone put their labour out there if all they get is endless negativity? One of my favourite fic writers entirely stopped writing for the wlw community of her fandom because of negative interactions and hateful campaigns. This is one of the main reasons many writers quit wlw spaces and abandon writing or creating anything!

I remember when I was publishing My Little Husband on ffnt more than a decade back. I had readers "who couldn’t write well" according to themselves, who often gave me prompts and scenes to add to the story. They also helped me correct my typos, plot holes and syntax because I was a very young and inexperienced writer writing something very ambitious. It was one of the best and most positive experiences of my life because the story was truly an interactive experience! That first encounter has shaped me as a fic writer today.

That’s why I love the current culture of Threadfics! They are so much fun! Fic writers who have a bone for an idea but not enough meat throw it at us the readers. And then all of us rush to it like a pack of hyenas but pull a reverse hunting by adding in the meat to this bone and creating something fun and weird.

Instead, of using the fandom space as a positive and creatively enriching place, so many of you have driven away people with negativity. And it's not just about wlw shippers any more, it's a comment on the entire fandom atmosphere post-pandemic!

Some of you want a seven-course meal catering to your 3-star Michelin appetites from the home kitchen of a hobby cook! This is not how it works!

P.S.: If you want to read: My Little Husband, here is the slightly cleaner version on ao3.

#fandom #fandom culture #fandom things #fandom meta #fandom discourse #fandom discussion #fic writer problems #fic writer #ao3 stats #ao3 fanfic #lawlu #lawlu fic #one piece lawlu #fic writing #support your creators

3 notes · View notes

drh3nryj3kyll · 5 months

Note

Hello! I’ve seen your posts and reblog an about nod as well as other people’s and they were a bit nervrackingly relatable. I did a built of research on it but I want to know a bit about it from a real person who has it before I try to get diagnosed. So can you tell me like symptoms and things like that? If you’d like

Of course! I'm assuming you meant NPD and nod is a typo. Just a warning, I am self-diagnosed (I've done months of research and reflection, though, and was in denial for a while) but I do plan to get an official diagnosis sometime in the future, I don't trust mental healthcare here but I might try the next time I see my psychiatrist.

Anyway, I'll get started. The experiences of pwNPD (people with NPD) may vary, but I'll speak from my experiences.

I tend to be very self-focused, arrogant, and especially hyperfixated on the idea of me being successful. My need to be successful, to be someone is something that deeply affects me in my daily life. I might act like I'm the best and seem quite pretentious, but admittedly, the self-esteem of pwNPD is extremely fragile. Big ego (which is also fragile), fragile self-esteem. I also withdraw from any situation in which I know or think I have a possibility of failure. For me, this includes music. I also tend to get pettily upset at even the smallest losses, like, for example, when I lost a simple checkers match with my partner. That was well over weeks ago, but my ego still hasn't recovered from that. A lot of pwNPD also have difficulty with empathy. I'm not sure if my low empathy is due to my autism or my NPD, but I experience it nonetheless. I have a lot of difficulty imagining what others feel like or even caring about how they feel, even if it's someone I like. I do try to help or comfort them, but inevitably I don't empathise with them. It's rare, but I have heard of high empathy pwNPD too. Many pwNPD struggle with vulnerability as well. It makes us feel weak, incompetent, the sort. We don't want that because we want to see ourselves as perfect, which is why it can sometimes be really difficult to trust people with our feelings. I don't even trust my own boyfriends to be vulnerable with them.

Why does NPD develop? NPD develops usually in childhood to early adulthood, and is lifelong. Most of the time it's from childhood trauma or excessive praise at an early age. Now me? My father was mostly absent during my entire life, I'm hyperverbal, meaning I was able to make use of language at a very early age, and I'm a skilled artist and story writer, I've also been very knowledgeable and curious, and quite ambitious at a young age. Of course, this led to the adults around me constantly praising me when I was young, constantly indirectly setting expectations for me, telling me I'd be something great. Soon, the praise, at least from my mother, felt very half-assed and I started feeling like I was doing something wrong. I'd always been very ambitious, so I don't know how I could live with myself if I died a nobody. I've had some trauma too which really stressed me out, etc., which could've contributed to how I am now.

There are also things like narc crashes. NPD crashes often occur when a pwNPD doesn't have enough supply, but it may happen after receiving critique or otherwise too. Supply is what narcissists need to keep themselves from crashing, which typically includes amounts of praise or compliments. When I crash, I tend to withdraw from people and be overly critical of myself or quite angry, and it often results in my mental breakdowns or meltdowns due to my incapability of handling strong emotions.

And heres a resources masterlist, they have a diagnostic criteria somewhere in there too https://www.tumblr.com/mischiefmanifold/728311937261355008/image-description-dark-pink-text-on-a-pale-pink?source=share

Even if you do end up not having NPD but still seem to struggle with things we do, or if you do find out you have NPD, here are some things that you might find useful.

Make people aware of your needs. It's okay to ask for a little praise or compliments once in a while, and they can really make me feel better and prevent me from crashing or having a meltdown. I also have a bot for compliments over here.

Keep a little collection, maybe a corner or an album, of things you're proud of. When you're feeling worthless it can help to look back on previous achievements and strive to be better.

Remember to be patient with yourself. It's fine to be the way you are, it's fine if you won't change, it's fine, really. But I know if you're struggling with how NPD or NPD traits affect you if you do have it, you can definitely find a way to properly accommodate yourself and your needs to live better.

I'm still learning myself on how to accommodate my needs and work through my struggles, but I hope that helps.

Tell me if you have any more questions or concerns!

#NPD #npd advice #actually npd #npd safe

5 notes · View notes

princeandrogyne · 2 days

Note

this is super long so first of all sorry and second of all as always free to trash it if it sucks or you don’t really want to bother. also thinking about it now tumblr might nuke this because the word count is very wordy so also if shit glitches out lmk I’ll try my best to repair any misunderstanding or egregious typo. but of course no response necessary even though I love open dialogue I obviously understand I wrote a whole fucking essay here and sometimes that’s just like. very overwhelming. no rush and no pressure forever and always. I know the possibility of people hearing me out is always lessened with the increase of yapping I do. I don’t blame anyone for that.

wanted to start this off by saying I have no grand delusions of saving anyone. I am already highly doubtful what I say really does anything to people I know in real life because I know people are resistant to hear things they already discarded, so of course it’s not like I expect this deluge of words on a screen to mean much to anyone, let alone you. but maybe I’d still regret it if I just turned away. ah, who am I kidding? I regret everything I do, even the small details and meaningless actions I take. I regret every word I say, usually. I suppose I am lucky in a sense that the powers that be pumped me with the anxiety chemical more so than the depression one. I’ve never really been in your place before, but I can understand it. I’ve definitely thought about killing myself, but it’s always ironically been tampered by the very thing that causes me to spiral. anxiety is a survival mechanism after all, and the fear of regretting my choice, of everything changing for the better the instant I give up always pulls me back. the one good thing about anxiety is it gives you a fear of death even when the rest of you doesn’t.

sorry for talking about myself (yet again) for so long. I’m getting to the point. basically, I’m sorry you’re going through this and you should know there are people, so many people who care about you. they want to see you alive. active. they want to hear your words or see your art or just see what kind of person you’ll grow into. hell, I barely know who you are and am communicating with you through an anonymous message on tumblr yet I care an honestly greater amount for you than people I’ve known in real life (granted a lot of the time those people were sort of shitty but I digress. I don’t think you’re a bad person. the opposite, in fact) the absurdity of this communication (and how very gen z of us) still hasn’t made me care less. I again, being a bunch of words on a screen, don’t know you very well, but I think you really don’t deserve to be in this position. you don’t deserve to be pushed into hopelessness, nobody does, but it makes me genuinely kind of angry that young, talented, well-spoken, interesting people end up feeling like this, just because of the realities of who you are, the things that make you interesting and clever but different brutally colliding with the deeply shitty world and country we live in.

but I can also understand how nice platitudes don’t mean much. being dead is kind of the worlds best excuse to stop caring about what others think, even if they think well of you. and people, it’s always hard to really be convinced they actually care, or if they’re trying to simply protect themselves from feeling bad in the future. I still can’t read people. I rarely trust people. I get that. I guess if you don’t trust people, trust that change is inevitable, and maybe it’ll just take time (as all things do) to see the changes. you mentioned half of the reasons you had to keep living were gone. what if more reasons arise? actually, not what if, more reasons WILL arise. it’s the nature of nature. inertia is antithetical to existence. Is this valuable advice? I don’t know. I have more words I could put here but I’m not a therapist or a writer even and I don’t want to be misunderstood if I do try and give direct actual advice. I guess I still know my limitations confined to this hyperspecific and imperfect mode of communication…I don’t know. allow me to just simply join a chorus of support, of hope and of getting as close to something we could call genuinely as possible.

I know I said I wasn’t coming into this with delusions of grandeur, but by god I wish I could express something so beautiful to convince someone to keep living. how egotistical of me, really. yet this isn’t really that, and I’m sorry I can’t do that. as I finish writing this I’m even kind of confused why I’ve spent so long on a piece of writing that’s probably shit and probably more of an annoyance than anything. forgive me for the dramatics but something deeper than logic compels me to try speaking here. is this what a parasocial relationship is. is this what the internet was made for? maybe I’m a hopeless fool who thinks there’s more that life can offer for people like me or you. maybe I can’t help trying to preserve something I feel is valuable.

I hope you don’t kill yourself. I feel like you have more to say. I hope the people around you can reinforce that, I hope they don’t stop giving you reasons to live. the world has more to give you. I have more to say.

Please never be sorry for talking to me. In fact stop apologizing for it altogether.

I have anxiety as well, but its drowned out by disdain for life and being alive. I used to be very scared of heights, and roads, and dead things, and i didn’t go outside very much because i was terrified of even scraping my knees. And now i don’t care. If i hurt or die then peace is upon me. The only thing that really gives me anxiety now is staying alive.

I like that you talk about yourself. I am getting to know you. However i think you are a bit strange. That anyone could find myself “talented, well-spoken, interesting, or clever” is… Disheartening. There are much better people than me to attribute these to, i hope you get to meet them. And i dont think you should be sorry that I am going through anything. It’s not your fault. Im certain I was built to experience bad things until I die.

My inertia declines with every passing day. I am mentally very slow. My brain has had palpable degradation of function for quite some time. I also am becoming emotionally less … careful, and physically i am doing probably worse than ever. I am so slow. I don’t think i want more reasons to live in the first place. I don’t want to be kept here anymore.

It’s ok that you cannot find anything to convince me. Many people have tried. I’m a bit of a lost cause. You’re not egotistical. You’re just trying to be a good person and do what you’re supposed to do. I think you should stop seeing anything I write as valuable though, if anything I’m taking up your time and energy. There is certainly more to life I think that can be offered to you, you have proven yourself kind and thoughtful. I don’t think that I am anything like you though.

We’ll see what happens. I don't think anything i have to say is necessary or hasn’t already been said.

#txt #answered #anon #longnon

2 notes · View notes

irenic-raccoon · 10 months

Text

My first proper attempt at writing a genuine fanfic instead of the joke fics I've written in the past. Idk what the title is and I'm definitely not that great of a writer so there might be typos or grammar mistakes so ermmmmm go easy on me.

It's Vyvyan x Neil. There's only one fic of these two and I gotta stick up for the less popular ships bc that's just how I am.

________________________________

Yelling, violence, and filth. An average day in the life of The Young Ones. Mike sat at the kitchen table, casually reading the daily newspaper. Vyvyan and Rick bickered about some bullocks next to the telly. And then there was poor ol' Neil. Neil, Neil, orange peel, standing there sulking and making the tea, since he practically did everything around here. All of the cleaning and all of the cooking. He was practically a 1950s house wife!

Vyvyan and Rick's banter turned violent, per usual, as the spikey haired ginger began throwing punches. He then grabbed the nearest object to whack the spotty bastard with. His weapon of choice just so happened to be Neil's rustic acoustic guitar. Before Neil was threatened to make the god-awful lentil tea they consumed every day, he was sat by the couch, playing a crappy tune. The sound of Vyvyan bashing Rick's head in with the already busted up guitar filled the room. Damn thing can barely play a note as it was poorly put back together with cheap ducktape, done by Neil himself in a futile effort to repair it. The guitar practically crumpled in his arms everytime he played a note. It's not like he'd be able to get new one anyways. None of them could even afford to use clean water. Hope you're happy, Thatcher!

The gloomy hippie turned his head at the sight, wearing his trademark frown. "Awh man, that's really heavy, Vyv. I've been, like, making a concept album for about two months now, and I was finally coming around to one of the songs. Not like any of you care, since you all hate me so much-" He was cut off with a shared "SHUT UP, NEIL!" From both the punk and the poet. Mike just nodded, agreeing with the statement as he continued to read his paper, wearing his sunglasses indoors. Neil sighed heavily as he began pouring the lentil nightmare that they considered "tea". He'd have to tape up his guitar some more, if there's even any tape left, that is.

Neil served them the lentil slop before getting assaulted with whatever item Vyvyan chose to use, then he sulked up the stairs to his bedroom, dragging the broken guitar behind him. As Vyvyan saw him do so, a peculiar thought came to to his mind, "I could fix that easily." It's true, he could, but he didn't want to be nice, especially to Neil of all people! On the other hand, Vyvyan was extremely bored. Even the violence was getting somewhat tedious. Not like he'd stop anytime soon, but Vyvyan hasn't partook in any of his actual hobbies in a long while. Like combining random chemicals to make some sort of "medical breakthrough", only for it to end up being explosive. Or tinkering his beloved car. Hell, Vyvyan even played guitar as well, he just wasn't able to play since he broke his beyond repair. In comparison, Neil's guitar would be a breeze.

Vyvyan decided that he was going to snag that guitar from Neil real quick and get working at it in the toolshed... Not like that, you pervy! He was definitely not doing it to be nice to Neil. Of course not! It's not like he held some sort of miniscule soft spot for him. He also didn't deep-down admire how much Neil did for them all, even if he moped about it constantly. Vyvyan ESPECIALLY did not like how Neil looked in that dress that apparently belonged to Rick. Nope, that image definitely didn't come to mind every once in a while when he's having a good wa- *BANG!*

Loud construction noises came from the dinghy tool shed Vyvyan put up months ago. Okay, he wasn't the best handy man. Bugger off, he's doing his best!

"Vyayan." Rick called out, standing outside said tool shed, hands on his hips, ready to yell at him for whatever he did this time. Vyvyan ignored him.

"Vyvyan!" He called out louder. Vyvyan ignored him again.

"VYVYA-" Rick screamed before the door cracked open, only for Vyvyan to hit him over the head with a hammer. That'll shut him up for a bit. He needed to concentrate, for once. He actually wanted to make sure he did a good job on fixing Neil's guitar.

When any of the housemates came along to ask what he was doing in there, he'd respond with something outlandish like "A time machine to prevent Rick from being born". Mike only asked once before going about his own business. Rick tried to be nosy, but it'd only come back to hit him over the head. Literally. It didn't take long for Rick to get a headache and a shiner from it all. Neil didn't bother to ask, likely based off the results from Rick. Instead, he only came by the tool shed to ask for the watering can, in which Vyvyan tossed at him from inside the shed. It nearly hit him but instead it hit the ground next to him. He thought it was strange, but Neil didn't feel like getting a shovel to the groin like Rick, so he just went about his gardening, even if his plants are past their death. They were so shriveled up and dark you couldn't make out what he even planted in the first place.

Vyvyan would take breaks throughout the day, causing the usual chaos around the house, but he made sure to return to the toolshed to finish up that guitar. He did this for the past two days until he was finished. He honestly felt proud with his handy work here, even if it didn't look the best. A few dents and scratches were permanent on its body, but it was a major improvement overall. Vyvyan decided to test it out, tuning the strings by ear and playing an a simple A chord. Bloody brilliant! He was lucky that his uncle Eddie taught him a thing or two about tools, even if he was a total tool himself. He was pretty sure him and Rick's uncle were going out. He cringed at that thought. Rick's uncle was as much of a pratt as Rick himself was. Must be genetic, similar to how alcoholism runs in Vyv's family tree.

It was dark out and Neil was still awake in his room, insomia keeping him up as he painted out his astrological chart. Some of that hippie bullocks he likes. He heard foot steps outside the door, but paid no attention to it, that's until he heard the door crack open. As soon the tall brunette turned his attention to the door, it was shut immediately, leaving only his guitar leaning against the wall. Neil's eyebrows raised, perplexed. It was like his guitar came back from the dead. Was he being haunted by the ghost of his guitar? He didn't even think that they had souls. He slowly made his way to the door, looking to see if anyone was out there. No one was in the hallway, but in the corner of his eye he saw Vyvyan peeking his head out his door like a meerkat, before quickly closing the door behind him. Suddenly, Neil felt like his stomach was full of butterflies... That might just be the lentils acting up again. Time to continue that song on the toilet, hopefully without being hassled this time.

#i tried to make it somewhat humorous bc the young ones is a comedy after all yadda yadda #its vaugely punkpye but its there #idk if i should post it on AO3 or not so im just posting it here for now #the young ones #tyo #vyvyan basterd #neil pye #rick pratt #mike the cool person #rik mayall #ade edmondson #nigel planer #punkpye #hope yall like thr references to Neils heavy concept album hehe #and the richie and eddie mention #i tried to keep them in character hope i succeeded

12 notes · View notes

zellie-pdf · 2 years

Text

How to Improve Your Vocabulary

Word of the Week: Assiduous: (adj.) hard-working, diligent

I believe that artists (writers, musicians, illustrators, etc) are the most self-destructive people in the world. As a writer, I'm forced to battle myself. When I use apps such as Hemingway Editor (an amazing app/website that helps you write clearer, more concise sentences (The website is linked here!)), I realize that a lot of my writing is at a "fourth-grade reading level". Fourth Grade? You're joking, right? The years I've spent writing and rewriting my book, editing, and polishing—all of that amounts to something a fourth-grader would read? Not that I'm bashing younger people and/or people with lower reading levels, but I wanted to at least make it to a middle schooler's reading level.

Read more?

How do I do that? Expanding my Vocabulary. The benefits of doing so are endless: - I'd sound more intelligent - My writing would be more challenging for an elementary schooler to read - It would improve reading comprehension - It could land me that job I've been wanting - I could think by using more intelligent language

Okay, enough rambling about me overthinking my own writing. How does one expand their personal vocabulary?

1. Downloading a Word of the Day app

I've found that using a word-of-the-day app helps a ton. To make it even better, I use Quizlet to study every word I've learned in the month. If you don't have enough storage or you just don't want an app, there are tons of word-of-the-day newsletters and content creators. I'm following a few on Instagram to add to my Quizlet collection. So, what does a WotD app do? Exactly what it sounds like. It sends you a notification with the word and definition of a large word. The one I use lets you choose between three levels, based on your vocabulary already: Beginner, Intermediate, and Advanced. (Here's the link)

2. READ AND WRITE

This one seems pretty obvious. Reading books (or Tumblr posts!) helps you to see words in context. A lot of people recommend classics since they use bigger words. Honestly, just read whatever you want. If you need some classics for beginners, though, here's a list! The Great Gatsby (208 pages), Animal Farm (130 pages), and Frankenstein (280 pages). ^ I consider those for beginners because they have fewer pages than, for instance, Emma by Jane Austen (432 pages). I might make a post on classics for beginners... hm. Anyway, just read to your heart's content! Writing can help you improve your vocabulary, too. After reading so many books with tremendous vocabulary, you can put them into your own writing. You should also keep a dictionary or thesaurus handy while you write. - Write in a journal to start out! Instead of saying "My day was good." Look at your thesaurus and see some synonyms. "My day was spectacular, exceptional, superior, satisfactory, acceptable, adequate, delectable, brilliant, etc." This brings us to our next tip.

3. Keep A Dictionary/Thesaurus

Listen, I'm not saying you have to keep a massive book in your bag. All I'm saying is that these come in handy, especially when reading/writing! Plus, you can literally keep one on your phone. If I'm not mistaken, most phones come with one. And you can download one if you'd like! It can be a cutesy one or a heavy metal-themed one. It doesn't matter, as long as you use it! The point is, using one will help you speak and write better.

4. Practice using new words in conversations.

WARNING: This only helps if you become very familiar with the word! Using new words you've learned in conversations can help you memorize them and consciously put them into your daily vocabulary. Plus, it can make you sound smart if you're not an asshole about it. And if someone asks you what it means, just calmly explain it to them (ahem, don't be an asshole)

I hope this helped. Follow me for Words of the Week (I know they're not as frequent as words of the day, but it might help, just a bit!), and feel free to request tips or to give me some! I'm always open to constructive criticism.

#Typo: A Young Writer's Life #writing tips #writer #writers #vocab #vocabulary #expand your mind #writerslife #writer community #writers of tumblr #writing #word of the week

6 notes · View notes

lewis-locky-leidiotz · 4 months

Text

RotTMNT: Strength Prevails

Teaser time :)

Do not use or repost 🔫

_____________________________________

STRENGTH PREVAILS IS HERE!!

Hello, m'name's Locky and this is the intro to my AU. This is a long one, and although I'm a writer, my pacing's terrible. But I hope you enjoy the ride nevertheless.

What is This AU?

It's a long story.. so to put it into one synopsis would water it down a lot. Instead I split it into four parts

We are currently in Phase Zero 🗺

Phase Zero: Revival

|found family yayy|

Four young terrapins find themselves in a barren wasteland, it's past shrowded in mystery. Their sensei, appearing like a ghost, attempts to bring them to safety and teaches them of what has happened to this world. And perhaps how to fix it.

Phase One: Incarnate

|the arrival & return|

Two years after the invasion, the Mad Dogz have just now finally come out of their shells (haha) and venture back into the cities. However, strange occurances reappear in New York. And an unknown group of crime fighters have taken over their place scouting in the Hidden City.

Phase Two: Solace

|slice of life segment|

New York City has been quiet for years now. Other than the small spots of crime, and the Foot Clan coming back as a small nuisance, the world is saved. Time to relax with family!

Phase Three: Eradication

|oh shit-|

Where is the Key.

How Do I Read This AU?

I'll make a pinned post at some point on my profile. For now, come to the newest post here and find your way around 😭

_____________________________________

Still tryna get used to posting here. For the longest time I had art block, along with some other projects I wanted to start on. Now that my work is slowing down, I'll hopefully be able to post this comic more!

But for now, no set schedules. Enjoy the future update jumpscares :)

apologies for any typos

#rottmnt #rise fanfic #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt art #rise of the tmnt au #my ocs #my art #comics

5 notes · View notes

gretavanfunk · 2 months

Text

Fighting Fire (Series)

Chapter One

Word Count: 7,190

Summary: Stevie and Sam never seemed to be what people refer to as "two peas in a pod" growing up. He got under her skin more times than she could count and Sam was desperate to be on a level playing field as his older brother and Stevie's best friend, Jake. One summer, Sam is forced to face his demons and in turn, Stevie is too.

Warnings: Themes of grief and themes of depression

This story is written and edited by me and it is my baby so I hope some people out there can enjoy it as much as I enjoy creating it! If there are typos, bear with me lol

Chapter One Playlist for the vibes!

It was around eleven o'clock on a chilly evening in late April when Stevie's nightly reading routine was interrupted by a knock at the door. She doesn't usually have any visitors, especially at this hour, so she was hesitant to even go to the door. However, when the knocking happened again, she got off the couch and shuffled her feet into her slippers, hurrying to see who was there. When she peeped through the peephole, she audibly gasped seeing her childhood best friend standing on her doorstep.

Stevie hadn't seen him in over a year at this point and was usually well aware when he and his brothers came back into town from their lavish rockstar life. This time, he was here unannounced and she knew that was very unlike him. Immediately, she undid the locks and threw the door open to find a wide grin across Jake's face and his long, tangled hair hugging his shoulders.

"Jake!" she exclaimed before tackling him in a hug, "You're back!"

"Surprise!" Jake chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, and lifting her a bit.

His clothes were cold to the touch and she rubbed her hands against his back, excitedly. Once her feet were planted back on the ground, she let him go and ushered him through the front door in a rush to keep the chill out.

"Come in! Come in!" She locked the door and led them to the living room, turning the lights on and settling on the couch next to each other.

"I didn't even know you were coming to town!" Stevie sighed, still smiling so big it was starting to hurt.

"I really didn't know until a couple of days ago myself," Jake laughed, "But I just got in and wanted to see you right away!"

"Probably because if I found out you were here from someone else, I would kill you," she laughed, "What brings you home?"

Jake rubbed his hands together, still trying to warm up and he furrowed his eyebrows before smiling shyly, "Stuff."

"Wait a minute," Stevie ran her hand through her hair, "Aren't you supposed to be on tour? What happened?"

Jake rubbed his face with one hand and shrugged, "It's not exactly my place to say. Some family stuff I guess."

Stevie scooted closer to him, concerned, "Is everyone okay? Did something happen?"

Jake nodded, patting her on the leg, and smiling, "Yes! Everyone is okay! It's something to do with Sam but I can spare you the details. Everyone is healthy and okay!"

Stevie sighed and clutched her chest, "Oh my gosh! You scared the hell out of me!"

"Enough about that," Jake laughed nervously, "How are you? Sorry to show up so late!"

"I'm glad you're here," Stevie smiled, "I've missed you! Will you be staying for long?"

Jake nodded, "Well, we aren't entirely sure yet. Not until we kind of grasp our situation."

She studied his face, knowing he was doing his best to dance around the subject. Jake was never particularly vulnerable and neither was Stevie. They bonded quickly over their natural invertedness when they were young and stayed close ever since.

In high school, Jake was naturally popular, playing soccer and such. However, since Stevie was a writer, she was constantly working on fun little projects with Josh, Jake, and Ronnie outside of school. While they ran in different crowds, Stevie and Jake just always understood each other on a deeper level.

He was popular. Everyone loved Jake, but he never made anything about himself, always knowing how to keep things fun and light-hearted without ever having to be transparent with people about heavier things. She knew him better than she knew anyone and because of this, she was prone to picking up on when a topic needed to stay where it was without any further prying or investigation, so she nodded.

"Well, okay! I'm glad you are here now! It's never the same without you guys around."

"What about you?" Jake asked, "How are you?"

Stevie looked around and she sighed, "I've been okay, surviving, ya know."

"How's Ryan?"

She laughed and shook her head, "Dead to me, that's how."

"Oh no," Jake sucked in breath through his teeth, "Guessing it ended badly."

"He was cheating on me for months," Stevie rolled her eyes, "So, depends on how you look at it, I guess."

"I'm sorry," Jake held her hand, "Fuck that guy."

Stevie laughed and nodded, "Fuck that guy."

"Why didn't you tell me, Steve?" Jake asked, giving her hand a squeeze and she looked up at him, almost moved to tears processing that he was sitting here with her.

She shrugged, "I didn't want to bother you! You're already so busy."

Jake shook his head and smiled, "Yeah, but we're best friends! You and Ryan were together for six years and if I knew before, I could've planned something awesome to ruin that fucker's life!"

Stevie cracked into a fit of laughter and she shook her head, "Don't waste your time on him! He doesn't even deserve to be given the thought."

Jake laughed along with her and nodded, "You're right."

He sat back on the couch and sighed, stretching his arms out and pulling Stevie into a side hug before continuing. Stevie settled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of peace that she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Well, try not to tell Sam about that," Jake lightly laughed, "We don't want to awaken his never-ending pestering of you like he did in high school."

Stevie shivered at the thought of Jake's younger brother in their high school years constantly hitting her with terrible pickup lines and she looked at Jake, quizzically, "Wait, what? I thought Sam was off the market anyway?"

Jake shrugged, "Well, he's back on it and taking advantage, I should say. He's... been going through it."

Being naturally nosey, Stevie wondered if his breakup had anything to do with the group taking a break from the tour to come home, which made Stevie think that it must've been pretty bad. Or that Sam was being a little bitch about it.

"Well, that's unfortunate," She sighed, "He seemed so happy."

Jake rubbed the back of his neck and nodded, "Things are not always what they seem to be."

Stevie looked at him for a second, waiting for him to expand and when she realized he wasn't going to she chuckled, "So cryptic."

Jake laughed along with her and with the dip in conversation, her focus was back on him. Being long-distance friends now grew harder for her when he always came back and significant chunks of time had passed. He always looked different when she saw him, not in very drastic ways, but in enough ways for her to want to take it all in. His hair was longer, messier, and curlier. A bit unruly. He had grown facial hair out, matching more and more with Josh and she smiled at this. It was weird for her, but she found it kind of fitting. He looked older, more mature. His clothes were always nicer. The style he carried was still very much Jake in the patchwork and casual kind of way, but a bit more clean-cut and... expensive.

It was strange that he was always the same guy who would cliff dive with her into the lake every summer and the guy who taught her how to drive a stick shift when they were sixteen. Strange and comforting. The true makeup of Jake never changed. He always spoke the same way and laughed the same way and it warmed her heart to be in his presence with a personality so familiar to her, no matter how much older they were getting by each passing day.

Jake ended up staying with Stevie and the two of them talked for a couple of hours, catching up on the last year that they hadn't seen each other. Jake told her about the band, their new album, the tour, and everything going on for him out in Nashville and Stevie told him about her job waiting tables with Ronnie some nights while she went to school in her graduate program in Publishing. She talked about losing her dad and what her life has looked like since then.

There wasn't much for her to say about it since she didn't really do much outside of missing him. Her dad was all she had left, and his death happened suddenly. A heart attack. She mostly just isolated herself and outside of work, she rarely left her house.

"It's been pretty lonely," Stevie chuckled, "But I suppose I do that to myself."

Jake looked at her with sad eyes and he shook his head, "I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you when it happened. Your breakup and your dad."

She felt her heart sink a little but looking at the sadness in Jake's eyes just made her push the feelings away and smile anyway.

She shushed him and shook her head, "Don't apologize, Jake! I understand."

They gave each other warm smiles and she wrapped her arms around him, "I'm so glad you are here now."

He hugged her back and rubbed her back softly, "Me too."

They kept talking for a while and Stevie was surprised to find that they both fell asleep on her couch when she woke up the next morning. Jake was still wearing his jacket and he had his arms wrapped around himself while his feet rested on her coffee table. She laughed at the sight of his face resting on his arms and how uncomfortable it looked. But, he was knocked out and snoring softly so it must have been a fine position for him.

As quietly as possible, she grabbed her phone from the coffee table and took a photo of him, chuckling to herself and then she stood up slowly, trying her best not to wake him. She went to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee, deciding against her usual half pot and making a full one to share with Jake. Then, she went into her pantry and started to make muffins, the same ones they would eat in high school.

Stevie wondered about what Jake mentioned last night about Sam and why they had to come home suddenly. He probably had a diva fit or something and she rolled her eyes. Sam was always making everything about himself. It was so typical of him, being the youngest in their family. He just was such an arrogant brat and to ruin something that Jake worked so hard for, made her hate him even more. In the middle of a world tour, are you serious?

She shook her head, deciding not to think about it too much and smiled to herself, just happy that Jake was back. She started humming and doing a little happy dance while she baked and jumped when Jake cleared his throat.

"Good morning," Jake chuckled, "Nice moves."

She rolled her eyes but smiled widely, "Good morning! Want some coffee?"

He sat on a barstool and nodded slowly, "Please, I feel like death."

She laughed and nodded, pouring him a mug, "We stayed up pretty late last night."

"Yeah," Jake nodded and smiled at her as he took the coffee, "Sorry about crashing here last night."

She gave him a knowing look and shook her head, "You can crash here any time you want."

Before she gave him his muffin, she went over to a drawer in her kitchen and took out one birthday candle, sticking it in the top of the muffin, and lighting it, causing Jake to chuckle to himself.

"A birthday candle? Don't be silly," Jake shook his head and Stevie nodded, "Hey! It's a few days late, but it's still April! Happy Birthday!"

Jake smiled at her and she set the plate down in front of him, stopping any movements from her with her hand before pulling her phone out to snap a photo.

"Make a wish," she teased and Jake rolled his eyes, playfully before blowing the candle out.

The two friends ate breakfast and drank coffee together until Jake's phone started to ring.

"Hello?" he answered and after a brief moment he sighed, "Sorry man, I went to Stevie's house and fell asleep here. Yeah, yeah, I'll be right there."

Jake rolled his eyes as he hung up and he stood, taking his plate and mug to her sink, "Thanks for breakfast, Stevie. I gotta run. Band meeting."

She nodded, "Anytime, Jake! Give me a call when you're free later! Maybe we can hang!"

He nodded and she walked him out the front door and waved as he got into his car and left. She sighed and smiled again when she closed the front door behind her, feeling more whole than she had in months.

Stevie knew that she did not get enough sleep to handle her afternoon shift at the restaurant today, but seeing Jake last night had her in good spirits, and she was sharing her shift with Ronnie so she knew it would be smooth sailing when she parked her car and took a deep breath in the parking lot. When she went inside, Ronnie was already there, putting her apron on.

"Ah! There she is!" Ronnie smiled, "I haven't seen that smile in a while, guess I got my brother to thank."

Stevie shook her head, laughing, "Did you know they were coming home?"

"A few days ago," Ronnie smirked mischievously.

Stevie gasped and reached past Ronnie to grab her own apron, "Why didn't you warn me?"

Ronnie rolled her eyes, "Please! It's more fun as a surprise, isn't it?"

Stevie's façade of anger faded quickly as she giggled, "Yeah, it is."

"Plus," Ronnie sighed, throwing her hair up into a ponytail, "Josh was very stressed out about keeping it a secret."

Stevie and Ronnie grabbed their order paper pads and pens and started switching over sections with the morning staff. Stevie was right about today being a breeze, she didn't lose her temper nearly as quickly as she could have with a few customers. Ronnie approached her in the back and took a sip of water.

"You can take your break first," Ronnie smiled, "But before you go, the guys and I thought it'd be fun to take off to Electrik tonight if you want to come."

"Oh my gosh," Stevie gasped, "We haven't been there in forever! Count me in!"

"Great, we'll pick you up tonight!" Ronnie winked and Stevie squealed excitedly as she clocked out for her lunch break. Now that she had plans to look forward to, the rest of her shift after lunch flew right by and the two friends cleaned up and walked out to the parking lot together.

"Okay, so game plan," Ronnie stated, "Go home, shower, get ready and I'll text you when we're heading to your place."

"Sounds good! I'll be ready!" Stevie gave Ronnie a squeeze and they went their separate ways to their cars.

Stevie threw her bag down at home and ran upstairs to shower. She scrubbed all of the sweat and food off of her and once she was done, she towel-dried her hair and dug around her closet in a rush.

Ever since her dad died, Stevie felt like she was never actually present in her body. She felt like she was just coasting through in a daze, but seeing Jake last night really reminded her of who she used to be when they were growing up and she didn't realize how much she needed him and his family.

When she was rummaging through her clothes, her mind was searching for something that made it look like she wasn't living her life pathetically for the last seven months. The weather was still on the chillier side and wasn't expected to start heating up for a few more weeks, so she didn't want to wear anything too revealing. She settled on a black corset top that had lace sleeves, ripped dark wash jeans and black boots, comfortable enough for dancing.

Electrick was a club in Saginaw that the group used to go to when they were younger. Specifically, when Sam turned twenty-one, the guys were in town and they all ended up going and found out shortly that he was a lightweight and he ended up getting sick in Stevie's car, which at the time, she was kind of a bitch about and the memory made her laugh. However, doing something with the group just like old times made her even more giddy than before. Stevie put on some makeup and was scrunching the sea salt spray into her hair when Ronnie finally texted her.

"I forgot to say we were on the way, but we're outside!"

Stevie squealed in excitement, took one more look at herself, then ran downstairs and grabbed her bag again before leaving the house. Stevie occasionally hung out with Ronnie outside of work, but she didn't usually get out as often as usual over this past year. However, she was excited to return with her best friends. Josh's Jeep was in the driveway and his window was down as he hit his horn obnoxiously and smiled a wide, toothy smile and she beamed with joy seeing him again.

"STEVIE!" Josh shouted, "GET IN BITCH!"

She ran to his window and grabbed his face, kissing his cheek, "Oh, how I have missed you, Joshua!"

He turned his face and kissed her cheek back, "And I have missed you!"

Stevie grabbed the backseat door and opened it to see Sam wearing sunglasses with his arms crossed over his chest. Once the door was fully ajar, he let one of his arms free and brought his glasses down to the bridge of his nose, peeking over them at her.

"Did ya miss me, Stephanie?" Sam asked in his annoyingly dramatic "deep" voice and Stevie rolled her eyes, cringing at his use of her full name and already annoyed that she'd have to sit so close to him for the ride to Saginaw.

"Oh, Samuel," Stevie sighed before scooting into the seat and slamming the door, her voice thick with sarcasm, "How could I not?"

Josh shot Sam a look through the rearview, "Watch it, Sammy."

"Oh right, I forgot this was the Sam Purge trip! Please, carry on as if I don't exist," Sam rolled his eyes, pushed his glasses up, replaced his arms over his chest, and sunk a little into his seat.

Ronnie laughed and ruffled his hair, earning a glare from him, "Oh little brother! The drama!"

Stevie laughed too but thought about what Sam had said and the very minimal context that Jake gave her last night about something that happened with him. She wondered about what it possibly could be, given his very sour outlook on it. If he didn't put a stop to the tour because of his breakup and his brother had to intervene, what could he possibly have done? The theme of the exchange amongst the brothers sounded as if Sam was visiting home against his will, and didn't necessarily want to leave the tour. However, her train of thought was broken when Jake looked back at her from the passenger seat and extended his hand to her, squeezing her hand, "Hey, Steve! You look nice."

"Hey, Jake," Stevie responded, "Thank you! You do too."

Sam scoffed, made a fake gagging noise, and mocked Josh's comment from earlier, "Watch it, Jake! Wouldn't want Ryan to catch you making advances."

"Sam," Jake protested, "Mind your own fucking business. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" Sam raised an eyebrow, "Is there a friends-to-lovers arc that we've missed?"

Jake's jaw tensed and Stevie could see that he was fighting hard to bite his tongue, so she saw this as her turn to enter the fight.

Stevie set her hand on Sam's knee, accidentally causing him to jump a little and look at her.

"Sam," Stevie sighed, "Jake and I have been best friends pretty much forever. Complimenting your best friends is completely normal. And Ryan was cheating on me for the better part of a year. So, yeah, mind your own fucking business."

Josh gasped loudly, "HE WHAT?!"

"It's really not a big deal," Stevie sighed, "We broke up months ago."

"That's a HUGE deal Stevie," Josh shook his head, eyes still glued to the road ahead of him, "I'm so sorry! What a piece of shit!"

Sam was still looking at her when she glanced over at him again, but his glasses were off and she saw the guilt and sadness in his eyes, for the first time in quite a long time. He set his hand on top of where her hand was still resting on his leg and Stevie took in a sharp breath, shocked by the sudden tightness in her chest.

"I'm- I'm sorry, Stevie," Sam's voice was quiet when he spoke and he gave her hand a squeeze.

Stevie studied his face for a brief moment, confused about his sudden tenderness. Sam looked a lot different than the last time she saw him. He had also decided to grow out his facial hair and it made him look older, more like Jake now than ever. There was a light sheet of exhaustion that was set into his features now, not in a bad way, just in a way that she noticed. His once pristine, perfectly straight hair was messier, tangled at the ends and wavy. He still had such a boyish gleam in his eye but, her mind still wandered about what could've happened in the last year to make him seem so different.

Suddenly, she removed her hand from under his and sat a little straighter, clearing her throat and nodding, "Yeah, he was sort of a piece of shit."

Stevie turned and watched out the window as the edge of their tiny town passed them by and she realized she had unconsciously broken into a nervous sweat. She was used to feeling tense around the youngest of the family, due to his insufferable annoyance, but he had never made her feel this uneasy. She tried to shake it off, but she could still feel his eyes linger on her and she said a silent praise when she heard Josh turn the music up in the car.

It only took about fifteen minutes for the group to get to Eletrick, especially with Josh behind the wheel. To her surprise, this still wasn't enough time for Stevie to stop thinking about the weird, anxious feeling she now harbored from Sam, but the change of scenery might help her regulate. The group filed out of the jeep and once Stevie stood up straight and moved out of the way for Sam to follow her, she was attacked by a set of strong arms wrapping her up from behind, squeezing her tightly.

She yelped and heard Josh's laughter in her ear, "A proper hug for my girl!"

Stevie turned around, laughing along with him and wrapped her arms around his torso, squeezing him tightly too, "It's been too long, Josh."

They pulled apart but Josh laced a hand with Stevie's and he nodded, "Agreed."

Josh looked different too, but probably the slightest bit of change compared to Jake and Sam. He got his hair cut and he looked older, just like his brothers did, but there was a sense of newfound confidence about him and Stevie smiled. She ran her hand along one of the shaven sides of his head and giggled.

"Sick mullet," Stevie chimed and Josh laughed and dramatically began to motion his free hand around his head, "It's more of a mohawk, but ya know, big and bold."

They laughed together and he pulled her along, inching towards the building. Sam stumbled out of the car and straightened his shirt before putting his sunglasses back on and slamming the car door sharply. Stevie glanced at Josh and watched him roll his eyes without giving an inch of attention to his baby brother who was begging for it. Josh simply just clicked the lock on his keys and pulled Stevie along with him to the entrance of the club, fingers still intertwined.

Josh dropped her hand when they got to the door, showing off all of their IDs and Stevie took a deep breath, bracing herself for what their night had in store for them. The music was loud, the lights were bright and there was that distinct Electrick smell of cigarettes mixed with hundreds of different types of perfumes and cologne, easily overstimulating all of the senses.

The group made their way to the bar and Josh led Stevie and Ronnie to stand up against the bar, with the three brothers standing close behind, as a protective shield. Josh and Jake were always very protective of Ronnie and Stevie when they would go anywhere together. Josh always complained about not being able to do that much anymore now that his life took him elsewhere.

Josh stood on Ronnie's left side, blocking her from the people around them, Jake stood next to him and Sam shielded Stevie's right side. He pressed up against her, resting his left hand on her shoulder lightly and Stevie widened her eyes, feeling that this was a bit too close to him for her comfort. With his right hand, Sam flagged down the bartender.

"I know everyone is pissed at me right now," Sam sighed, "But drinks are on me tonight." Josh opened his mouth to protest but Jake just slapped a hand on Josh's back to shut him up and he spoke, "Can't argue with that, Sammy."

Stevie laughed at Jake and he chuckled nervously, grabbing Stevie's unoccupied shoulder and squeezing it before he resumed his position. Sam went ahead and ordered everyone's drinks, not needing to ask anyone what they wanted. He took his wallet out, pulled his card out, and handed it over to the bartender, never moving his hand from her shoulder. Once his card returned and he put his wallet in his pocket, his left hand remained on her shoulder, filled with nervous energy and almost like they were barely touching. He then began tapping the bar anxiously with his right hand.

Stevie was hyper-aware of all of his movements, which honestly annoyed her more than he ever had before. She just felt so uptight in this situation. She turned her head to look at Jake who was scoping out the area, and when she touched Jake's arm, he shot his glance at her and smiled.

"How was your band meeting this morning?" Stevie asked and Jake's eyes flicked over to Sam for a moment before meeting hers again, "Good, just a bit of a check in after getting here. We're kind of halting everything at the moment."

"Well," Stevie sighed, "Selfishly, I'm glad."

Sam laughed at her comment, but she kept her eyes on Jake, "Everybody is so uptight! Let's fucking dance!"

Josh pointed at her and clapped his hands together, "Yes! Exactly! Let's do that!"

The bartender came back with drinks as if on cue and Stevie clapped her hands together, taking her glass and turning to Sam, whose hand finally left her shoulder to let her go on the dancefloor.

"You coming?" she asked him and he smiled a small smile, shaking his head, "No, I'm gonna stick around here! Come back if ya need a refill!"

Sam winked and she nodded, patting his back before she grabbed Jake's arm, following the rest of them to the floor. The farther away from Sam they got, the clearer her mind got, although they were diving headfirst into a sea of people now. Jake looked back at her and he stopped, grabbing her waist and pulling her ahead of him, to follow behind her.

Jake's touch never made her feel tight or anxious. It was so comfortable and familiar to her so, finally, she felt herself relax being around him again. The club music was so loud now, blasting a popular pop song. She could feel the bass in the pit of her stomach and once they got to where Josh wanted to be, the group held their drinks tightly, periodically sipping and swaying to the music together. They laughed at one another and danced together, just like they always had on their weekends together and tears welled in Stevie's eyes for a brief moment, finally feeling whole after so long.

Stevie knew that dancing made Jake nervous, even though she also knew he could get down if he really didn't care, but she made sure to grab his hand and just dance silly dances with him to make it less serious. None of these other people mattered anyway, she was with her home. Amidst all of their dancing, Jake and Stevie took it upon themselves to do the round runs and would check in with Sam who was doing his thing, flirting with any girl that would dare look at him. Jake and Josh had been pulled aside a few times for photos with fans who spotted them but it was few and far between.

After a while, Stevie decided to make the trek to the bathroom, Jake insisting on escorting her there.

"It's okay, Jake," Stevie laughed, "I will be just fine!"

Jake pointed two of his fingers to his eyes before pointing them at hers and she hit his chest before starting to weave her way through the people. After she finally was done with the bathroom, she decided to check in on Sam again and maybe get herself one more drink. When she got back to where the group had left him, she didn't see Sam sitting there and she immediately began to panic.

Stevie searched around with her eyes quickly and figured he must have been having a smoke or in the bathroom too, so she walked outside to check, Sure enough, she found him, but not in a situation she had expected. Sam was being pinned up against the side of the building by a much bigger man, about to get his ass kicked, no doubt. She groaned and rolled her eyes, annoyance immediately filling her body. However, she only let the annoyance hold power for a few seconds before she kicked her mom-friend energy into gear.

Stevie shouted, "Hey! What the fuck is going on?!"

"Shut up, bitch," the guy snarled back and Stevie threw her bag down, immediately switching to anger and started running towards them. She screamed and jumped on the guy's back, digging her nails into his face.

"What the fuck?" the guy shouted, letting go of Sam and backing away from him, holding onto her hands, trying to pry them off.

Stevie's strength began to vanish quickly and she let herself off of the much taller man, falling back onto her ass. He hissed in pain from the scratches on his face and shook his head, "Fucking crazy bitch!"

Stevie looked up at him with dark eyes but the guy just took off and rounded the corner, heading back into the club. When she looked back at Sam, his face was white as a ghost and he was just looking at her in shock. She started to get up and that's when Sam rushed to her.

"Stevie! Are you okay?" he asked and she rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I'm fine! Are you okay? What the hell happened?"

Sam helped her up and shrugged, "I guess his girlfriend was one of the girls I bought a drink for."

"Man," Stevie shook her head, "Where would you end up without constant supervision? All that for some girl?"

Sam widened his eyes at her in shock, "You're one to talk, miss hyena! I wouldn't want to get on your bad side."

The pair looked at each other, smiles fighting the corners of their mouths and they both started laughing. The annoyance and anger shrank inside Stevie as she thought about how truly ridiculous the previous events were. However, that didn't last for long.

Sam stumbled backward and took a deep breath, "Fuck, I don't feel too good."

"Oh God," Stevie said, holding onto him and leading him to rest against the side of the building again, "Here we go again."

She sighed, reminded just how short-lived good moments with him were and how inconvenient he could be. Sam bent over and set his hands on his knees, trying to breathe through his nausea so Stevie rubbed his back, "Just let it happen, Sam. You'll feel better."

Sam looked up at her briefly before shooting his head back down again and Stevie could feel his body tensing, so she quickly grabbed all of his hair in her hands, pulling it out of his face. Within seconds, Sam was vomiting just like he had in this very alley multiple times before. Stevie took all of his hair in one hand and rubbed circles in his back again all while turning her face away and fighting off her own gagging. Sam stood up straight and wiped his mouth once he was finished.

"Shit," he muttered, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Sam," Stevie sighed, "It was pretty much inevitable."

Sam leaned against the building and took a deep breath, "Ya know, it's not always like this."

"It is to my knowledge," Stevie chuckled, shaking her head and Sam looked at her with a sly grin.

"Thanks for your help, Stephanie," Sam said and Stevie glared at him, "You know I hate the name Stephanie."

"And you idolize Stevie Knicks," Sam nodded, "I remember."

There was a brief pause and Sam turned his body to face her, causing her to raise her brows in question to him. Sam began to try to close the space between them, lowering his head in an attempt to kiss her and Stevie hit his chest a little harder than she intended, "Woah! What the hell?"

Sam hissed from the sting of rejection and nodded his head, defeated as he backed up and stood against the wall once more.

"Right, right," Sam laughed, "I'm not Jake."

Stevie scoffed, "Or, how about the fact that you're shit-faced and just hurled everywhere?"

Sam glanced at her, tilting his head slightly, "So what I'm hearing is, it's not impossible."

"Not on your fucking life," Stevie laughed shaking her head in disbelief at his behavior, "Sam, what's going on?"

Sam shrunk down a bit and his smile fell, "What? My blabber-mouth brothers haven't told you?"

Stevie shook her head, "Of course not, Sam. It's not their business to share."

Sam scoffed, "Well it's not their business to intervene either, is it?"

"It is if you're in trouble," Stevie muttered and Sam shook his head, "Everyone thinks that I can't handle my shit, but I can."

"Sam, everyone thinks you can't handle your shit because notoriously, you can't," Stevie sighed again but she grabbed his hand, making him look at her, "Talk to me."

Sam's eyes screwed shut and he sighed deeply, rubbing his temple with his free hand. Just as he opened his eyes again and was about to start speaking, the side door of the bar flung open and Ronnie, Jake and Josh all stood there, searching for them.

"Oh! There you are," Ronnie announced with a sigh of relief, "We were worried something happened to you, Stevie!"

Jake crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows at her, encouraging her to explain.

"Right," Stevie dropped Sam's hand instantly and sighed, "Sorry! I was just checking in on Sam, that's all!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sam turned his body away from them and started throwing up again. Stevie worked quickly to grab his hair once more and talk him through it.

"It's okay, Sam," she hushed, "Let it out."

Ronnie scoffed and shook her head, "Honestly, bro! Are you ever gonna learn your limits?"

"Well," Jake chuckled, and then he smiled at Stevie who was now craning her head to look at them all, "Next time, text me or something so I know you're alright."

She nodded, "Sorry, Jake."

He shook his head and reached over to give her a pat on the head, "It's okay! Need a drink?"

Stevie thought about it for a moment and nodded, "Could you just get me a water?"

"Here," Josh stuck his glass full of water out, "You take this one! I'll get another and work on sobering up to get his ass home!"

Stevie took the cup with one hand, still holding on to Sam's hair, and winked at Josh, "Thank you."

Sam had finished vomiting, but this time he stayed hunched over, not wanting to address the embarrassment he must have been feeling. The three siblings' eyes fell on Sammy who was clearly avoiding looking in their direction, so Stevie cleared her throat.

"Uh, I'll meet you guys in there, okay?" She let go of Sam's hair and turned her body towards Josh, "Could I get the car key? Just in case."

Josh nodded and handed the keys to her. Jake narrowed his eyes and Stevie tilted her head, pleading with him to trust her and he nodded, "Yeah, okay. But if you end up not coming back in, you better text me or I'm hunting you down again."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, "Alright, Jacob."

Ronnie, Josh, and Jake all filed back inside, and Sam stood up straight once they were gone. He let out a breath, obviously still feeling badly. Stevie stuck out the water cup to him and he looked at her with a confused expression.

"The water is for you, bud," Stevie laughed, "Bottoms up."

Sam slowly took the cup into his hand and nodded, "Thanks for that."

Stevie sighed, "Mmhmm. Whatever."

She grabbed his arm, dragging him along, dodging the areas of the ground where he threw up and she led him further away, instructing him to sit down. He did as he was told, and she ran over and grabbed her bag, still sitting on the ground from the fight earlier. She brought it over to him and sat down beside him.

She rummaged around until she found her pack of gum and handed him a piece, "Here. Take it."

Sam took it and he smiled at her mischievously, "You want to kiss me, don't you?"

"Don't push your luck buddy," Stevie slugged his arm lightly, "This is to help the taste from nauseating you again."

Sam stuck the gum in his mouth and nodded before muttering sarcastically, "Sure, it is."

They sat like that together for a good chunk of time in silence, waiting for Sam to finish the glass of water in his hand and they eventually shared a cigarette too. After the water was gone, Stevie asked, "What do you want to do, Sam?"

"Well," Sam sighed, "I think standing is going to make me too dizzy again so, I'm not sure."

She huffed a breath, irritated that she was stuck out here with him and not enjoying her night with her friends. Typical Sam. Once again, it was all about him. They hadn't even been together more than a couple of hours and he was already ruining her time. She thought about just leaving him out here but she sighed, knowing that wasn't the right thing to do. If Sam had gotten beaten up, Josh would freak out and if she left him alone and he wandered off into Saginaw, Jake would lose his shit.

Stevie pulled out her phone and shot Jake a text, letting him know she was taking Sam to the car and she stood up, setting the empty glass on the sidewalk and offering her hand out to him.

"Come on, we're going to the car."

Sam narrowed his eyes at her, "Why?"

"So you can at least lay down," Stevie suggested and Sam laughed, "In Josh's tiny ass Jeep? Yeah, right."

"Well, it's either that or you keep vomiting on the side of this building," Stevie sighed, "Take your pick."

Sam groaned and took her hand, slowly standing up and following her lead out to the parking lot. She unlocked the car and opened the back door, gesturing for Sam to crawl in. He got in the car, and she followed after him, sitting in her original seat.

"Okay," Sam laughed, "How am I supposed to lay down with you back here too?"

Stevie rolled her eyes, reaching her body across to the front to roll the backseat windows down, "Josh is probably gonna be ready to drive soon, so get comfortable, buddy."

She sits back down and pats her legs to tell him to lay his head in her lap and he gives her a confused expression before sighing and scrunching his legs up to his torso and laying down. Stevie moved his hair up and away from his neck as he rested the back of his head against her thighs and he looked up at her, fighting off laughter.

"This is not entirely ideal," Sam laughs and Stevie sighs, "What were you expecting? The Ritz? It's not very ideal for me either."

"Considering it was your idea," Sam scoffed, "Seems pretty ideal for you."

She glared at him and shook her head, "You think I want to be babysitting you? I haven't hung out with Jake in over a year."

"Do you know how to play bass?" Sam asks sourly, "We can trade places."

Stevie started to run her hands through his hair, encouraging him to shut up and fall asleep, "Trust me, you don't want to trade places with me, Grammy award-winning rockstar."Sam laughed at this but the feeling of her fingers against his scalp did soothe him enough to close his eyes.

"If only you knew," Sam whispered and Stevie wanted to pester him about it, but she thought it better to just leave the conversation where it was and continued to lightly play with Sam's hair until she heard his soft snoring. As Sam lay there, asleep, she patiently waited for the rest of the group to be ready to go home. She would be lying if she said she wasn't completely exhausted herself, and the added drama from Sam really threw her for a loop. She looked down at him, watching his eyes flutter and his chest rise and fall. In this state, Sam looked peaceful and even a little bit happy. She felt kind of sorry for him, although she had no idea what caused his brothers to cancel their tour and drag him back home but, she didn't have to know the details to know that he was hurting. Hurting or not, it did not get him off the hook for being a drunk asshole.

His behavior was even more reckless and impulsive than it ever was before. Sure, Sam was normally a very chaotic presence to be around, but mostly in a fun-loving way and competing for recognition amongst his siblings. Tonight, he just seemed like a miserable brat, desperate to cause trouble. Stevie had to admit that the events of the evening did take her mind off of the way Sam sort of made herself feel a bit dizzy earlier but now that the thought was back, she had to bury it deep in the folds of her brain to never think about it again.

She heard Josh's voice in the parking lot finally and she looked out the window and waved. When they got to the car, she shushed them and told them that Sam was asleep. So, Ronnie took her brother's legs and carefully lifted them, shimmying herself into the seat before laying his feet on her lap and closing the door.

Jake looked back at Stevie and looked down at Sam, "I'm sorry about him."

"Don't be sorry," Stevie assured him, "But, it would be nice to know exactly what the fuck is going on here."

Josh sighed and looked at her in the rearview mirror, "All will be revealed eventually, just not tonight."

Stevie saw the sadness lingering in Josh's eyes, so she just nodded, accepting his answer. They all rode home without another word, just the sound of soft music playing amongst them.

#gvf fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet #gvf #fanfiction #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka #sam gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction

2 notes · View notes