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#and then when i do write and read over what i wrote
reidishh · 3 days
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Have ya'll seen the tiktok where the guy learns Chinese so that he could propose to his girlfriend in her native language? And he gets super nervous, and his hands start shaking, so his girlfriend holds his hands to keep them steady so he could read the translations he wrote down?
Yeah, I just watched that video, and my immediate thought was of jegulus.
Can you imagine James wanting to propose to Regulus, but he wants to make it super special, so he decides to propose in French???
James asks Sirius to tutor him in the language, and when Sirius is curious about his sudden interest in it, James blushes and stutters out some bullshit excuse because Sirius is Regulus' brother (and they're not on the best terms - never have been, really) and James isn't certain how Sirius will react to the news that James is going to be proposing to his best friends little brother. But Sirius knows. Of course he knows. This is obviously important to James, and nothing is as important to him as Reggie.
James spends months learning French with the help of Sirius. Months. By the time Sirius deems James competent in the language, James is certain he knows more French than he does English. Still, James translates all the things he wants to say to Reggie during the proposal and writes it on a piece of notebook paper because he's certain he's going to mess it up somehow.
When he finally gets down on one knee, James is hoping that it goes off without a hitch. But, of course, nothing really ever goes his way.
He gets through the first few sentences without having to use the paper, his hands clutching Regulus' as the words roll off of his tongue with practiced ease. But then the weight of the moment catches up with him, and all of the nerves he'd managed to keep suppressed finally bubble over because 'oh Merlin, this is the man I love. What if I fuck it up? What if I fuck it up and he says no?'
And, suddenly, every bit of French Sirius taught him is gone. But, Regulus is there, and he's holding James' hands, and there are tears in his eyes, and he's sending James the most comforting smile, and James knows he has nothing to worry about.
So, James lets go of Regulus in favor of digging the folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. His voice is shaky as he tries to read from it, but his hands are even shakier than his voice, and he can barely make out what he wrote. He's close to just giving up and switching over to English. Then, without warning, Regulus has his hands back on James', holding them steady.
James pauses his speech to look at Regulus, only for a moment, before continuing when Regulus whispers, "Keep going."
By the end, Regulus is sobbing, and James is worried he said something wrong. But before James can ask, Regulus is throwing his arms around him, saying that he just can't believe anyone would do something like that for him.
Regulus says yes btw.
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joeyb1989 · 2 days
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running home to your sweet nothings* - joe burrow
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summary: after a frustrating and hard loss to the chiefs, joe only wants you.
word count: 3.7k
pairing: joe burrow x reader
warnings: angst, fluff, smuttttt, sad/anxious/frustrated joe, pet names
a/n: another fic from me? what is this? LMAOO no but i’ve had an idea to write a fic based on sweet nothing for a while and a request came in and i knew it was the right time. if this fic sounds like total brain rot im sorry. i wrote this while i have covid and i haven’t really left my room in three days😭😭 anyways, hope you all enjoy.
*i didn’t really read over this, so if there’s mistakes (or if it’s just bad😭) please ignore them*
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You were snapped out of your focused state by Joe placing a small object on the coffee table. “Look what I found in my pocket,” Joe added context to his action.
Your gaze left your notebook and found his outfit, seeing him clad in a gray t-shirt, which showed off his muscles nicely, and black cargos, which he loved wearing this past offseason. You look down at the small object to see the pebble you and Joe found in the off-season. “Do you think it ever misses Columbus sometimes?” Joe asked, joining you on the couch.
Flashback to this past off-season
“The sunset looks so pretty,” you smiled, taking a picture with your digital camera.
“You look so pretty,” Joe wrapped his arms around your waist from behind pressing a kiss to your cheek, earning a blush from you. “What’re you taking pictures of, sweetheart?”
You and Joe traveled to Columbus this weekend for his friend’s wedding a few days ago. You two decided to rent an Airbnb for the rest of the week to get in one last vacation before the season started.
“Those pebbles down there,” you said, pointing to two pebbles on the ground. One was an orangish-red color while the other was an almost-purple color – both Joe's and your favorite colors. “It’s like they represent us. They’re the only colorful ones.”
“How ‘bout we keep them?” Joe smiled as he picked the two up, putting the orange one in his cargo pants pocket, while handing you the other.
End of flashback
“Maybe,” you shrugged, “I thought we lost yours.”
“Yeah, me too. Yours is still in your memory box, right?” Joe asked.
“Mhm, we need to figure out what to do with them,” you sighed, “I don’t even remember why we took them home.”
“I don’t think there was a reason, baby,” Joe chuckled as you set your notebook on the coffee table, giving your full attention to him, “It just felt right.”
“I’ll put mine in your memory box before I leave,” Joe said, laying his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I wanna get my cuddles in right now.”
Even though Joe had this big male bravado out on the field, he was a total softie with you; which you loved. You loved how much comfort he found in cuddling with you, just like the comfort you found in cuddling with him.
“Nothing is bothering you, is there?” you asked. Joe would never say no to cuddling, but you knew that when he initiated it, something was going on in his head.
“Can I not just want to cuddle with my fiance?” Joe asked playfully.
“No, you can. But I just know that there’s probably something going on up there,” you said, running your thumb over his forehead.
“Just nerves, babe,” Joe sighed, burying his head into the crook of your neck.
Joe hated talking about his worries with anyone. The only exception was you, even if it did take a while for you to get it out of him. There were many times during his knee and wrist rehab when he would shut you out and keep all his fears trapped inside, but the two of you finally moved past that.
“Let me in,” you soothed, lightly scratching his scalp.
Joe sighed again before craning his neck to lock eyes with you. “The game tomorrow. I mean you were there last week, you saw how we all played like dog shit. I just… we can’t afford to play like that again. I can’t afford to play like that again. I know that we’ve improved this week at practice, but all of this outside noise doesn't help.”
“Joe,” you whispered while rubbing his back. It killed you to see him so worried about football. Football has been his life since he was a kid.
“I know I shouldn't worry about what people think… but I can’t take it sometimes. I know who I am. I know what the team is. I don’t get why we can’t put it together on the field. And those guys… it’s always hard to play them. I just… I’m tired of everyone’s opinions about me,” Joe expressed, undefeated.
The vulnerability and uncertainty in Joe’s words shock you to your core. Usually, Joe wouldn't care who was talking about him or what they were saying, but since the loss to the Patriots, he’s been very doubtful of himself.
“Baby,” you began, caressing his head, “I hate seeing you like this. You know why?”
“Why?” Joe whispered against your chest
“Because I know who you are and you know who you are. I hate when these middle-aged, couch potatoes of men get you down on yourself. You are Joe Burrow. You are a national champion, first draft pick, and one of the top quarterbacks in the league. But most importantly, you are Joe Burrow, the same guy that always gets back up when he’s down, the same guy that can do anything puts his mind to, and the same guy that always goes above and beyond everyone’s expectations.”
Joe sat up before bringing you into a hug, “Thank you, baby. It’s good to know that you’ll always be here even when the league gets tired of me.”
Ever since the two of you started dating Joe’s rookie year, you have always been there for him. You guys were just dating for a month when he injured his knee, but you made sure that you came over every day, even though you spent the night most of the time, to be there for him. You quickly fell in love with him after seeing how dedicated he is to everything in his life. He fell in love with you after seeing how caring and passionate you are about everything. You’re always there to hold him, comfort him, whisper sweet nothings to him, or give him endless pep talks after a hard loss or just a frustrating day of practice. He always found himself running home to you and your sweet nothings.
“What have you been working on today?” Joe asked, looking at your notebook on the coffee table.
“Just a little something,” you smiled, “you can read it if you want. I mean, it is about you.” One of your favorite hobbies was writing poems. It all started in college when you took a poem-writing class, and you just never stopped. Joe loved it about you. He’s read every poem that you have ever written. He always compliments you, it happens all the time. He loves them even more when he is your muse, though.
You watched as a smile curled on his face as he read your written words. “What a mind,” he said, kissing your forehead repeatedly, causing giggles to spill from your mouth. You eventually pulled his face down so that your lips would meet. The kiss quickly heated up as he moved you into his lap, his crotch under yours.
“Mmm, Joe,” you whimpered as his lips found the sweet spot behind your ear, lightly nipping at the skin. “Don’t mark me up too bad, baby.”
“No promises, sweetheart. Gotta let everyone in Kansas City know that you’re mine,” Joe growled.
Joe groaned as you started grinding your hips against his, feeling hardness below you. His hands went under your flimsy t-shirt as your lips found his again, Joe pulled away as he lifted it over your head. His eyes darted to your perky breasts – supported by an orange, lacy push-up bra. “Holy shit,” Joe said breathlessly, “I swear to God, you get more and more beautiful every day.” He unclasped your bra, watching it fall off your chest before attaching his mouth to your left breast, swirling his tongue around your hard nipple.
“Baby,” you moaned as his hand gave your other breast a hard squeeze before moving his mouth to it and his hand to the other. “Joe, I need you inside me. Right now.”
“You’re awfully needy, aren't you,” Joe smirked, but quickly whipped his shirt off before unbuttoning your jean shorts, pulling them and your panties down at the same time. You reached down and hooked your fingers in his waistband, prompting him to lift his hips to give you easier access to pull down his boxers and shorts. Joe caught a glance at the clock, knowing he had to leave soon to catch his flight to Kansas City. “Baby, we gotta be quick, ‘kay?”
You nodded, giving his cock a few slow pumps before lining it up with your slick entrance, both of you moaning at the fullness. You set a fast pace snapping your hips into Joe’s, making him groan in pleasure. Joe was never loud in bed, except for when you rode him. He loved watching you move on him, your boobs bouncing with every move while chasing your pleasure with his dick.
“Mm, Y/n,” Joe whimpered into your ear, making you feel hot all over, “Just like that baby. Making me feel so fucking good with that tight pussy.”
“Joe,” you whimpered a few minutes later, slowing your pace as your legs got tired. Joe immediately understood you by your body language and began helping you move on him.
“Shit, baby,” you moaned as he continued to move you, but started to buck his hips up into yours and take one of your nipples into his mouth.
Joe knew you were getting close to release as your walls squeezed around him. “Come on baby, make yourself feel good,” Joe panted.
That was all the motivation you needed to grab onto the back of the couch for leverage and start bouncing on his cock, chasing your own pleasure while making Joe feel good too.
“Shit, that’s it. That’s my fucking girl,” Joe moaned as his cock twitched inside you.
“Joe- I’m-” you began before he bucked his hips into yours, hitting your g-spot. “Oh my god-”
“You like that?” Joe teased as he did it again, this time harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Joe!” you screamed as your orgasm washed over you. 
A few more thrusts later, you felt Joe empty his load into you, your still-spasming walls milking every last drop of him. He pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead. “You did so good, baby,” Joe panted, “Are you okay?”
“Mhm,” you smiled, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “That was intense, though”
“I think I passed out for a minute,” Joe chuckled.
As you two caught your breaths while whispering sweet nothings into each others’ ears, you almost didn’t notice Joe’s phone ringing.
“Shit,” Joe murmured as you handed it to him.
“Hey man, are you… going to the game?” a man teased on the other side of the line
“Yeah sorry, I… wanted to get one last workout in and lost track of time. I’ll be there soon, Tee.”
“Workout?” you teased as you wiggled your eyebrows.
“Well… many calories were burned,” Joe smirked, lifting you off his cock, both of you hissing at the sensation. Joe walked into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with paper towels to clean you up.
After cleaning you up, getting you dressed, cleaning himself up, and getting himself dressed, Joe grabbed his bags and loaded the car up with them.
“Be careful on your flight, okay?” Joe said, wrapping his arms around your waist as your arms went around his neck.
“I will, don’t worry about me,” you smiled, ruffling his hair before fixing it.
“I always worry about you, you know that,” Joe whispered against your lips.
“I know,” you stated, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? If you need anything, call me. I’m just a phone call away, baby.”
“I know,” Joe said, kissing your neck.
“Baby,” you giggled, “you gotta go.”
“Okay, okay. Didn’t realize I marked you up that much. My bad, babe,” Joe said, lightly tracing the purple marks from him on your neck.
“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now,” you smiled, secretly liking it that Joe always marked you up. It felt protective like he needed other people to know that you're already spoken for. “I love you so much, Joe. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m proud of you.”
“I love you, Y/n,” Joe said, wrapping you into a warm hug, “Call me when you land, okay?”
“I will,” you said as you pulled him in for one last kiss before he drove off to the stadium.
The next day - Arrowhead Stadium
As you sat in the stands with Joe’s parents, you started to grow more and more anxious as you waited for the game to start; especially after what Joe was going through last night.
Flashback to last night - Kansas City, Missouri
Joe: Baby, are you busy?
You: No, of course not. Are you okay?
Joe: I need you right now.
You: Okay, I'm here, Joey. Do you want to call or meet me somewhere?
You frowned as you saw that Joe left you on delivered for five minutes. He was usually a fast-responder, so you thought about calling him to check on him. Just when your finger was going to hit his contact name, there was a knock at your hotel door. You opened the door, revealing your fiance with red and puffy eyes. “Hey baby,” Joe sniffed but tried to smile.
“Aww, come here,” you whispered as you pulled him in for a hug after he closed the door. He immediately melted into your touch, his face burying into your neck as his sobs filled the room. “Shhh, I’m here. I’m always here, let it out,” you whispered into his ear, while you rubbed his back.
“I’m so scared, baby,” Joe sniffled, his arms holding you so tight like you were gonna disappear if he didn't.
“I’m here, you’re safe with me,” you soothed.
A few minutes later, Joe’s crying slowed down. “You wanna sit down?” you asked before he nodded. You led him over to your bed, and he pulled you into his lap once you two sat down.
“Just being here… it’s got me freaking out. I just need you.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked with soft eyes.
“Same stuff we talked about at home, there’s nothing else you could say to make me feel better than you already have. Can you just hold me?” Joe sniffled
“Of course,” you sadly smiled, laying down and pulling him onto your chest. As his crying picked up again, you had to fight your own tears, hating that he felt like this and there was nothing you could do to help.
End of flashback
Little did you know, just being there for him made all the difference. Joe woke up in his hotel room ready for the game, feeling confident in himself and his team. When you saw him before the game, it was like total whiplash but you were happy to see him ready for the game.
Your entire mood flipped once the game started. The entire team’s demeanor had flipped from what it was a week ago. A team that once played unsure and scared was now a major threat to the Super Bowl champs; even if it was a close game.
The 4th quarter had you fiddling with your engagement ring and chewing your nails out of nerves. Even though the Bengals were still winning, the Chiefs only needed one field goal to win. Tensions rose even more when Joe had to pull Ja’marr away from the ref.
You grabbed Robin’s hand as you saw the Chiefs kicker walk onto the field. You covered your eyes as he kicked. You heard Chiefs fans around you go wild, knowing what had just happened. When you opened your eyes, you saw Joe slamming his helmet on the ground knowing how frustrated he had to be.
——
The three of you met him down at the locker room. Your heart dropped when you saw the look on his face. He looked so upset. Usually after hard losses, Joe wouldn't hug anyone for long, including you; and that was no different today. He hugged his parents both at once before locking eyes with you. “Be safe on your way home. I love you,” Joe kissed your forehead before bringing you in for a brief hug.
“Yeah, this one definitely hurt him…” you thought to yourself.
Later that night - Cincinnati, Ohio
Your plane landed a lot earlier than Joe’s did, allowing you time to clean the messy house. You were also trying to mentally prepare yourself for him to shut you out like he usually did after a hard loss. You understood that he needed time to process his emotions by himself, but it always hurt you that he dealt with it by himself first.
You were putting some dishes in the cabinet from the dishwasher when you heard Joe come into the house from the garage. You turned your neck to give him a soft smile, fully expecting him to go up into his office for a couple of hours. Instead, he dropped his bags on the floor and rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I was an ass earlier,” Joe whispered, “Have you eaten anything?”
“You weren't an ass, you were frustrated… and that’s okay. And yeah, I ate at the stadium earlier,” you replied, “Have you?”
“No, but I’m not that hungry. Can we just go to bed?” Joe asked, his large hands rubbing your back.
“Mhm,” you softly smiled, leading him up to your shared bedroom, watching him strip out of his clothes once you two got up there. You picked out a matching set of satin pajamas and crawled into bed, Joe immediately cuddling up to you.
A few minutes of silence went by before Joe spoke up. “I’m sorry you went so far for a total shit show,” he mumbled.
“It wasn't a shit show,” you soothed, running your hands through his frosted tips, “Some terrible calls, but all of you played your heart out on that field. I know that you're frustrated, though and I’m sorry.”
“I just… cannot take it anymore, Y/n,” Joe sighed, “All of these reporters I think are trying to deconstruct my soul. All they want to do is make money off of my awful playing. I’m trying so hard, and all anyone is saying is that I should be doing more. You’re the only one that I can tell this to… but I think I’m just too soft for all of it. I’m just a guy wanting to play football. I understand it’s their job to talk about me as much as it’s my job to win a game, but I’m just so tired of it.”
“You’re the only one who doesn't want more from me. All you’ve ever wanted from me was just… sweet nothings,” Joe smiled. Even if the world was ending, or if everyone was busy with something else, all he needed was you. You were his home, you were his peace, you were his heart. Even in the awful football world where everyone was pushing and shoving, he had you to keep him grounded; and that was perfect for him.
You felt Joe’s body slightly relax after he told you how he felt. “You already go above and beyond for me,” you smiled, “Those reporters will see exactly who you are now, though. I think that game awoke something in you.”
“I’m sick of us being the underdogs. That all changes next week, that's a promise, sweetheart,” Joe smirked.
“You need to get something else off your chest?” you asked, “You still feel pretty tense.”
“No, I’ve got it all out. I do know one way I can get the rest of it out,” Joe smirked.
“How’s that?” you teased, playing innocent.
“Let me show you,” Joe whispered into your ear before he unbuttoned your pajama shirt, and kissed your body.
“Joe, don’t you think I should show you?” you asked
“Mm mm. You already do enough for me,” Joe smirked, taking one of your boobs into his mouth while he teased the other with his agile fingers.
——
Several moments later, after you and Joe both got each other off with your mouths, you found yourself below Joe, anticipating his thick cock to fill you up. “Please, baby,” you whined as he teased your entrance with his tip.
“Please what?” Joe smirked
“Please fuck me,” you breathlessly said
“Okay,” Joe smirked nonchalantly, pushing into you, making you gasp.
Joe set a relentless pace, you were moving up the bed more and more with each rough thrust. “God, baby, you feel so good,” Joe moaned before he leaned down and kissed you.
“Joe,” you moaned, “harder. Fuck me harder.”
“You. are. so. fucking. hot.” Joe said, punctuating each word with a thrust that was rougher than the last.
“Joey, right there,” you moaned as one particular thrust grazed your g-spot.
“So tight baby,” Joe whimpered, burying his head into your neck, as he, somehow, picked up the pace.
“Babe- I’m not gonna last long,” you whimpered, your nails scratching his back.
“That’s okay, just let yourself feel good,” Joe hissed.
A few thrusts later, you felt the rubber band in your belly begging to snap, “I’m- gonna cum Joe” you moaned.
“Cum on my cock, I wanna feel you,” Joe grunted.
“Joe!” you screamed as your high washed over you.
“Baby- I’m-” Joe said as his high washed over him, leaving him grunting and moaning into your ear.
After a few minutes of catching your breaths, Joe pulled out and pulled you into his chest. “I love you, Y/n”
“I love you more,” you smiled.
“That’s not fucking possible, but okay,” Joe chuckled, “I can’t wait to marry you.”
“I can't believe I’m marrying the love of my life in seven months,” you chuckled out of disbelief.
“I’ve been waiting for that moment since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Joe smiled. “Thank you for loving the parts of me that aren't easy to love,” he said with every drop of love in his eyes, “Like my smartass attitude and my nerves.”
“It’s a pleasure to love them,” you whispered before planting a kiss on his lips, “It’s a pleasure to get to love you.”
——
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sarahreesbrennan · 23 hours
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Quick Evil Note
To all my wicked darlings, I have now received rather a lot of messages asking me about the influences of Long Live Evil. And I wish to get messages about LLE and truly appreciate the ones I do get! And I wish to answer them. But answers about influences are tricky.
The book has been out in the US for a little over two weeks, and it’s going so well so far, I couldn’t be more delighted and appreciative about its reception.
But also I’ve been informed (not asked) that two of my characters are obviously somehow both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy of Harry Potter, and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. (Very puzzling as I don’t think these pairings - and one isn’t a pair - have much in common with each other or with mine. Vague hostility against a vaguely academic backdrop for a bit? For the record… in the book everyone is an adult and I don’t even have any academic backdrops to be vaguely hostile in front of…) This hasn’t happened to me in a long time, because I haven’t had an original novel out in a long time due to illness, and it is upsetting to always be discussed differently than writers who didn’t openly link their real names to their fan identity.
I have very different feelings and new appreciation for fandom than I once had. It’s been amazing to see and meet people who have stuck with me for decades. People are generally way more open and affectionate to and within fandom than they once were. Love matters to me a good deal more than hate. But getting death threats in your early 20s for excitedly telling your Internet friends you were going to publish a book does mark the psyche, and so does having your characters dismissed as other people’s characters.
And we can say there is nothing wrong with fanfiction or writing fanfiction and there isn’t! Fanfiction is great and can be genius. Terry Pratchett wrote Jane Austen fanfiction, and didn’t (and shouldn’t) have people saying Captain Wentworth = Captain Vimes. Still, when a TV show is discussed as ‘like fanfiction’ or when Diana Gabaldon said she didn’t like fanfiction and many said ‘YOU write fanfiction’ it isn’t intended in any kind spirit, even when it’s fannish folk saying it. And it’s just generally odd to have everyone call your apple a tomato, and has had professional consequences for me in the past.
However! All the asks I’ve received have been very kind, and I do want to answer them. I do want to talk about my influences because they are manifold and because I actually think it’s important to always talk about influences. I don’t believe stories exist in isolation - we tell tales in a rich tradition, and also a story doesn’t come alive to me all the way until it’s heard or read.
Long Live Evil is a love letter to fandom: it’s chock full of references to many many stories I’ve loved, to fairytales, myths and legend and Internet memes and epic fantasy and meta. My acknowledgements are endless partly for this reason. I do owe a great debt to many portal fantasies and archetypes and musicals and jokes about genre and plays through the ages, though I do think of my characters as themselves and nobody else.
I was frankly tempted to go ‘Yes I stole EVERYTHING! Bwhahaha!’ But while I am thoroughly enjoying and finding great freedom in my villain era, I do want to talk sincerely to you all as well, especially when asked sincerely interested questions.
But I’m a little scared to do so and have people say ‘AHA! Now we know what it’s fanfiction of’ (it’s happened before) or ignore me and go ‘we know the truth!’ (it’s happened before) and to feel like I’ve injured my book. Long Live Evil means more to me than any other and I really want to get talking about it right, and make sure it has the best reception I can give it.
So. Questions on all Evil topics very very welcome but answers to influence questions may come slowly. Bear with me. I am working on this!
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startanewdream · 3 days
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can you write a fan fic on Sirius giving Harry advice on Ginny. I need Hinny fluff!
This was sent so many years months ago, hope you'll still read it, Anon!
godfatherly advice
Summary: Sirius and Remus discuss Harry's love life. Set during OotP. Around 1600 words.
“Do you remember a girl named Cho Chang?”
It is the sudden change in their talk — they had been exchanging stories of their favorite Christmas dinners at Hogwarts — that makes Remus blink, surprised. He turns to Sirius, but his friend is now looking at the far corner of the kitchen where Harry is playing Explosive Snap.
“What?”
“When you were teaching at Hogwarts,” Sirius answers, sounding impatient. “There was a girl called Cho Chang, right?”
“Right,” Remus agrees slowly. “Ah—she was in the Fourth Year. Ravenclaw. Bright girl. She wrote this essay about curses—”
Sirius waves him off. “Fourth Year,” he muses. “One year above Harry, then. Different houses. Not much in common.” He shifts his weight from one foot to another. “Pretty girl?”
He jumps. “I didn’t notice it! I was her professor—”
“Oh, get a grip.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “Think like a fifteen-year-old boy—never mind, you never mentioned your crushes back in school, I don’t think you were ever a teenager.”
Warmth floods Remus’ face, and he deviates his gaze. “Why are you asking, anyway?”
“Hum…” Sirius seems as embarrassed as he gets. “Rumour has it that Harry’s got a crush on this girl.”
“Rumour.” Remus glances at where Tonks and Hermione are talking with the Weasley twins. “I guess this rumour is friends with one of Harry’s best friends.”
“I am not discussing my sources with you. But if you can trust this particular rumour, and you can… Harry and this girl, Cho, got friendly before the end of the term.”
“Oh.” Remus watches Harry for a moment. With his overly large shirt and laughing freely as he plays Explosive Snap with Ginny Weasley, Harry doesn’t look his age. “I forgot he is old enough to have a girlfriend.”
There’s a grunt in answer. Sirius is frowning, displeased.
“What?”
“I don’t think she is his girlfriend. From what Ton—my source mentioned, it was just a snog or something like that. “
Remus raises his eyebrows. “Just a snog? That doesn’t sound like Harry.” Sure, Remus may have missed a few — a lot of — years staying away from Harry, but he got to know him during his time as a professor. And between Voldemort and the Triwizard Tournament, not to mention all the stress of this year, he doubts Harry has turned into some kind of Casanova since then. 
“No,” Sirius shakes his head. “But from what I got, Harry has had feelings for this girl for ages, but it is complicated—she was the girlfriend of the Diggory boy. The one who died in the Triwizard Tournament.”
Remus sighs. “Nothing is ever easy for Harry, is it?”
“Maybe,” Sirius mumbles, seemingly to himself. “But when Harry finally snogs the girl he’s been pinning for so long—you would think he might mention something to me.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Remus can’t help his smirk. “You know you owe him the talk, right?”
Sirius flushes slightly. “It’s not his silence that’s upsetting,” he says haughtily, clearly determined to ignore the second part of what Remus told him. “But rather—do you remember when James and Lily finally snogged?” That familiar jolt of pain hits Remus; his smile is wistful as he nods. “James kept smiling so much that it looked as if he had overdosed on an Euphoria Elixir.”
“And he couldn’t stop babbling about it—it was three in the morning, and he was still gushing.”
“Yeah.” Sirius looks older for a moment, his gaze far away before he nods towards Harry. “Does Harry look remotely like James did?”
“I don’t know. He seems quite happy now.” And as to prove his point, Harry’s laugh echoes in the kitchen for a moment. The cards have exploded, drawing everyone’s attention, though neither Harry and Ginny seem to mind. They are chuckling, and even though his own face is painted with soot, Harry jumps to smooth the small flames over the tips of Ginny’s hair. 
“Exactly!” Sirius beacons him to come closer, his eyes shining with mischief. “And not because of this Cho Chang girl, but rather…”
Sirius’ voice drifts away, conspiratorially. It takes Remus a few seconds — during which, impatient, Sirius glances meaningfully at the place where Harry and Ginny are — before he understands.
“Harry and Ginny? They are friends.”
“So were James and Lily.”
“Yeah, but aren’t you forgetting the part where James made a fool of himself whenever Lily Evans was around?”
Sirius shrugs. “Things never happen twice the same way. In fact, rumour has it that Ginny used to have a massive crush on Harry.”
“Hmmm.” Remus considers this for a moment, before deciding it is no big secret. “This one is true, when I was her teacher, I saw how she acted whenever Harry was around… but I thought it was because of that Chamber of Secrets incident.” He shakes his head. The things Harry faced at Hogwarts…
“Very romantic, I guess. The hero saves the girl… and usually gets the girl.”
“I think the hero was too young then to care about these things.”
“And now he is older, but he doesn’t seem to be caring for the right person.”
Remus blinks. “Aren’t you being too judgemental? You have just heard about this girl.”
“I am judgmental, but not of Cho Chang. I’m judging Harry.”
“Who is acting as a teenager for once?”
“I just mean… I thought they would make a good couple. Harry and Ginny. They share the same slightly twisted sense of humour and they seem good together.”
Remus sips from his goblet, allowing himself some time to consider it. Harry and Ginny have split up now; while Ginny is chatting excitedly with Tonks and Hermione, Harry has joined Ron, but now and then he glances at Ginny’s back — fondly, not exactly romantic, but maybe there is a spark there, a seed that could grow. There had been some storm over Harry’s head during that Christmas break, something related to the vision of Arthur being attacked; that storm is gone now, and though Remus has no idea of what exactly unfolded, somehow he thinks it was because of Ginny Weasley.
“They would match,” he agrees, and then, because this is Sirius he’s talking to, he adds carefully, “but you shouldn’t meddle with them.”
“I would never,” Sirius rebuffs at once, but there is a mischief spark in his eyes, so alive, that Remus knows this isn’t the end of it.
“Sirius—”
“Speaking about match-making, don’t you think my cousin looks splendid tonight?”
The inevitable flush that floods his cheeks is enough to make Remus change the subject.
He isn’t really surprised to find out, a couple hours later, that Sirius has cornered Harry as they clean up the last remains of supper. 
“How are things at Hogwarts? Any good news?”
Harry seems taken aback. “You know how things are,” he says, looking at Sirius as if he’s considering his godfather lost his mind. Remus winces, then unsuccessfully tries to get Sirius’ attention.
“I was thinking about things you might not mention in a letter or during a fireplace call, like… Maybe some romance in the air?”
Smoothness, Remus considers, was never Sirius’ strength. Harry flushes a deep red, all his attention in drying the dishes as if his life depends upon it.
“Er—okay. Not anything worth mentioning, just the same.”
“The same,” repeats Sirius slowly. Perhaps he senses that Harry is ready to run — his eyes have shifted to the door a couple times as if he is considering how many steps he needs to be away from there — because Sirius suddenly smiles. “You know, your father never had eyes for anyone but your mother.”
Harry’s eyes open. “Really?”
“Really.” Sirius looks only encouraged. “Now, James was a popular guy, a Quidditch hero, had a great sense of humor, and of course an amazing taste in his best friend, so there were girls chasing after him, but he never cared for anyone else. And he was right, because he and Lily… they were just perfect, destined to be together.”
There’s a dreamy expression on Harry’s face. Remus knows Harry is away thirsty for any information he might receive from his parents, so he may just be considering this new piece of the puzzle that are his parents. But as he drifts, destined or not, Harry’s gaze seems to fall on the corner where Ginny is now sitting by herself, playing with the cat.
And Sirius, bless him, notices it. He barely contains a grin.
“So, you get what I mean, right? When you find the one, you know you did. Someone with whom you really connect, someone who makes you laugh, who gets you. You don’t waste your time snogging anyone else…”
Harry blinks, suddenly pulled back to Earth. “Snogging?” His gaze is suspicious. “Who said anything about me… snogging?”
“No one. This is not the point, I just—”
“It’s late, I should get some sleep.” Harry glances helplessly at Remus, who nods.
“We’ll leave for St Mungo’s early tomorrow,” he agrees.
“Right.” Sirius looks as flustered as Harry does. “But Harry—you understood what I said? About the one—”
“Yes, yes.” Now Harry is almost at the door. “Good night!”
Remus gives him a few seconds before shaking his head at Sirius. “You should not have—”
“I just did what I am sure James and Lily would like me to do. They would adore Ginny.” The mischief is back on Sirius’ eyes. “Speaking of—I heard Ginny might be dating someone, I think she needs a piece of advice as well.”
“Fred and George have mentioned her Bat Bogey Hex—” But Sirius is not listening to him anymore, already crossing the room. Remus sighs as he sits to watch the scene; he supposes he could use a last laugh before going to bed.
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⋆ ₊☽˚𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼˚☾₊ ⋆ 
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𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : you and coryo had gone through hell and back, you've been together and far apart yet you could never find the courage to say how you truly feel for him. so, you wrote them into letter form, but you never sent them. and so what happens when one mr. snow finds each and every letter only to realize that it's too late?
𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : written in letter form from the readers perspective, talks of jealousy and sad feelings, r is definitely from the capitol, self blame, kinda sorta depression, angst, deceit, suicide, coryo finally responds
𝓪/𝓷 : so here’s the grand finale! thank you all for all the support and love on this fic, i turly am so grateful for every single note, kudos, reblog, and comment (even if its just you telling me how i made you cry ; ) ) here we are! hope you enjoy!
𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽
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⋆ ₊ ☽ ·˚𓍲⋆ 𝓮𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓮⋆𓍲˚· ☾ ₊ ⋆
To my Dearest Darling,
My love, my darling, words cannot describe the pain in my chest.
You can’t truly be gone. This must be some kind of hoax. I find that my eyes that you once called the most precious gems are filled with tears as I read the letter I received promptly after returning back from 12. 
I have many regrets my dearest, but my most haunting is you.
I can’t believe what a fool I have been, to have tossed you to the side when you have been there for me in a way that no one else can. 
Your family has invited me to your funeral, the audacity of those ingrates. They plundered your room, taking anything and everything. Which is how they happened upon your delicate box filled with tear stained letters.
All addressed to me.
The shock that overcame me as I heard straight from your bastard of a father had nearly killed me alone.
He had told me that you had thrown yourself off a bridge. Called you an ungrateful whore who didn’t do anything but take his money and take advantage of your family's good name.
I nearly jumped up from my seat and beat your father to death. How dare he call you names when every single dollar he ever gave you to keep you quiet lay in my drawer. How dare he call you an ungrateful whore for turning down an arranged marriage. And how dare he belittle you behind your cold back when I know I have hurt you like no other.
I have turned my back on you when you have been my greatest supporter, even greater than my own cousin. I have chosen another girl over you who has loved me since the very beginning, since we were young. I have cut you so deeply that you could not bear living anymore.
How could I?
Please my darling, you must know that I, there is no way I can atone for my sins, not that you are no longer here.
Please my darling, you must forgive me.
Please, please, please. 
Please forgive me for not writing to you all those years ago when we were young and caught in the middle of a war we had no part in. Please forgive me for not seeing you as the Angel you truly are.
Please forgive me for not noticing how you hurt for me, a man who is so undeserving of your compassion and empathy. 
Please forgive me for turning my back on you, even when I knew that you understood me like no other. Please forgive me for not hearing your pleas for me to wake up, for not thanking you for weeping over my sickly frame.
Please forgive me for not turning to you first, my loudest cheer when Lucy Gray was finally out of that arena. Please forgive me for not noticing how you were hurting, how you were aching, as I held you when I kissed you cheek tenderly. Please forgive me for not seeing your inner turmoil.
Please forgive me for not seeing how you loved me.
Please forgive me for becoming the very thing I hated. Please forgive me for giving into the temptation that was Lucy Gray. Please forgive me for not telling you, the one who’d never even breath about my deepest secrets to another, that I had been exiled.
Please forgive me for leaving you all by yourself in the large, large Capitol. Please forgive me for not even thinking about how you would feel all by yourself.
Please forgive me for not being there for you when Billius proposed to you. Please forgive me for not being there for you.
Please forgive me for not telling you the truth.
To be honest, it’s been eating up my insides. I wanted to tell you so badly. I regret it so much, I never even realized how much I would suffer, how much you would suffer, from my actions. 
Darling, please forgive me. Please forgive me. Darling, please forgive me for lying to you.
For not loving you like I have.
For not showing you how much I love you. 
Please, darling, forgive me.  
Wherever you are, please forgive me. 
Please, darling, forgive me.
Sweet Angel, my heart felt ripped out of my chest as I saw your delicate face in a coffin, skin cold and flushed pale. Your parents were as stone faced as usual, their eyes bone dry. 
Sweet Darling, I pray that you forgive me from the great beyond. I pray that you watch over me and guide me to become a person worthy of your love for as I am now, I am undeserving of your life, your tears, your love. 
My Dearest Darling, as I read all those letters and saw the tear stains that marred the paper, my heart ached for you, felt the unbearable pain that no number of sorrys and whiskeys can drown out. 
My Dearest Darling, I love you.
I am so sorry that I have been an ignorant fool who is unworthy of everything you ever gave me. 
I now know that I will never smile again, unless I smile with you.
Please wait for me my Darling.
Please forgive me,
Coryo
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tiyoin · 2 days
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Tiyoin, I'm starting to yapping again. So I've been thinking about expanding more on the contest in the twst singer au. Like the outfits, posable songs, duets(?), posable challenge in the contest(?), the magic ✨,etc. Side note posable doesn't seem like a real word
For the outfits Vil would have mostly have control over them. Like he'll ask reader about fabrics she likes or give them a few designs to pick from but that's about it. 🌀 would probably wear simple just elegant outfits. Looking good enough to belong there w/o sticking out.
The fits definitely have a purple/blue base/ she has wears accessories that shows others that 🌀 kinds belongs to Vil/ Rook cuz rook is always here and never ever leaves(I think I have a problem). I like to picture the purple getting darker as reader progresses though out the contest as a way to show development in reader/overall.
Next, part of the outfits are the magic masks. With the masks you would only see the contestants' mouth, chin/jaw area. And the magic just makes it hard for people to figure out who is singing. Obviously with different themes/vibes the outfits and masks change with them.
Now onto the duets. In the voice they have the contestants do duets with each other right? So I was thinking there would be smth similar. Maybe with the judges, someone they picked w/o the mask(Rook) or, with a different judge(Neige?) so there's not like any cheating/favoritism ya know?
Like Rook &🌀 singing everything has changed. There's a line that says green eyes and freckles. Idk if rook canonically has freckles but it's a cute though and maybe they're hard to see 🙈 so he's like "🌀 has been staring at me*kicking feet while giggling*"
I'm going to start yapping about what I've been most excited for. The ✨magic✨. I was thinking that they could be fairies like Tinkerbell orrrr they're just little balls of light that fit in your hand. Like they all have little personalities, emotions, families everything.
Overall just mini friends for 🌀. They have different teams for all the contestants but, none of them ever treat them well or acted like they're just tools and, bcuz of that they never do more than the minimum for the contestants.
I think reader is the type to be nice/polite to everyone till there's a reason not to. A treat people how you want to be treated way and, bcuz of that they really help 🌀 in and out if the contest.
I personally like they being little balls more. It seems sweeter/more comforting/ genuine for them and reader that way. Picture them playing in the woods with reader just having fun 💞💞
But If you like them more Tinkerbell like it can be like a seasonal job for them. Imagine how cute it would be if 🌀 sings a love song and 2 of them start dancing together💘(too young by Sabrina Carpenter?)
For the challenges I was thing maybe a writing on. Like theyre given a word/place/object and have to make a song around it and Vil can only help reader a little bit. Maybe that have a acoustic round were the fairies can't help at all. Or they sing a different language.
Honestly I think the hardest part of this is finding the songs. I can so see 🌀 writing most of their songs based off their dreams/stories they read. Tbh I've been listening to So long London the whole time typing this and, can see 🌀 winning a challenge with it. Cuz the other would write/do really poppy songs and reader comes out with the opposite vibe.
Vil & Rook would be there when reader writes it/perform it for the first time and, they're blown away. Like yea they knew wrote her own songs but they never thought it would be that good.
I'm sorry I know I said songs and it turned out only being one. I just don't know what happy songs to give to reader. 😕 Reader just give "I hate feeling this way but i find comfort in the way I feeling" ya know?
ANYWAYS I hope you get a good night's sleep and I love today's chapter. I honestly thought u were writing about me for a moment that's how badly I was relating to 🌀. Sorry if there any mistake it's another 3-4am ask.
MELLLLLL MELLLLLLLLLLLL
VIL AND ROOK WOULD ABSOLUTELY SUBTLY STAKE A CLAIM ON READER VIA CLOTHES. the clothes they wear are 100% pomefiore inspired threads that they designed and crafted themselves. maybe crewel catches wind of this and it becomes a WHOLE fashion operation that mc does NOT want to be apart of (maybe she does, but doesn't feel like she's worthy enough for any of these nice things/ to be pampered over like this)
if the octotrio somehow finds out about this, I can imagine azul or one of the twins making a comment (if mc wears a lilac color that day) that mc looks 'beautiful in octanvinelle's colors and that it suits her more than those saturated colors she's normally wrapped in..' only for vil to take lilac completely out of her wardrobe OR keep it to a minimal 😭
imagining that the masks that get sent to the participants are normally blank, white mascarade masks, but because they're magic they alter with the theme. and so when new one comes out the mask changes to that theme and the participants can make their outfits around the masks.
WITH THE DUETS I CAN IMAGINE NEIGE SIGNING UP FOR THE CONTEST AND THEM GETTING PAIRED UP, ONLY FOR VIL TO RECOGNIZE HIM AND GET PISSED TF OFF😭
"I heard that aggitating, grading voice-"
'maybe I shouldn't of signed up to be a judge....' well thinks with anger as he watches the two of you practice via mirror. im imaging the duets are something like the duets in 'the voice' where you both sing against each other but also with each other.
but also, for some fun, and for a harder round, maybe you have to pick someone in your life (maybe that fits a theme or category?) to sing with you?
and im so glad savannaclaw rook's card came out because our weird king has freckles!! wohoo!!
rook picking a song that kind of describes mc through the lyrics and every time he gets to a line like that he makes -prolonged eye contact- with mc and it kinda messes them up because WHY ARE YOU STARING AT HER LIKE THAT- SIR- SIR???
MEL YOURE A FUCKING GENIUS
I NEBVER EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT FAIRIES
THEY COULD BE THE WORKERS WHO ARE TASKED BY THE COMPETITION TO HELP THE CONTESTANTS STAY WITHIN THE RULES AND TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING GOES SMOOTHLY
I was thinking the exact same thing tbh, the fairies are treated horribly by the fame hungry contestants who only see them as 'measly employees' or even 'personal servants' to them via the show. but mc would be a little frightened by their gruff attitude but over time, as mc starts treating the fairies with upmost respect and kindness... they start telling their friends and the other fairies. and yeah, they start to favor mc and subtly and I mean SUBTLY sabotage the other contestants
ofc if beige was a contestant he'd treat hem nice too, but the fairies are kinda annoyed by him being TOO kind. because fairies are sassy, VERY sassy .
maybe to everyone else they're balls of light but to the contestants they're fairies? or maybe they only let you see their true form if they like you or trust you enough!
mc singing a love song and a bunch of 'fire flies' start dancing and twirling around them, only for it to be later released that it was the fairies. MAYBE A FAIRY WAS SCOUTING FOR NEW PARTICIPANTS AND THEY COME ACROSS MC AHHHH (at the end of the song when one is on mc's hand it bites her 😭 later that's her assigned fairy)
maybe after losing horribly one round mc is sad and singing a sad song, but the fairies come around and start playing and singing along until it becomes a happy song and they're all dancing. maybe... the fairy that at fist didn't like mc accidentally leaves the camera rolling and the whole of twisted wonderland actually SEES the fairies dancing and singing and playing with mc.
and there's a secret vote that no one in the history of the show has ever gotten. its called 'the fairies favor,' and its only bestowed to those who got eliminated but the fairies disagree with it and veto the vote. but the viewers have to agree with it?
the challenged are gonna be so weird ngl. like one is a theater challenge and another is writing your own song too. the show likes to make it hard- I mean entertaining so the viewers dont get bored. so you TRULY have to be a jack of all trades for this.
I haven't listened to that but I'll def give it a whirl 😼 I like to think that reader is really expressive through song and can come out with bangers. like I think that she def wins a challenge with 'wildflower, by billie eillish' after something bad happens. or maybe 'Andromeda, by weyes blood'
but the songs that mc uses to express her experiences and emotions make rook and vil develop a soft spot for her, and because they're really the only ones who know about all this, she slowly becomes a member (unofficially) of pomefiore (yes! evil scheming DOES work >:) )
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mintywolf · 1 day
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(I wrote this on the train coming home on August 26th although I am just getting around to posting it now because time is a weird soup.)
So okay.
****
I haven’t written a personal journal post in a long time but I want to write down EVERYTHING I can remember about my adventure to NYC to see the Critical Role cast so I don’t forget. It was SUCH a moving experience and I’m so glad I went even though I was scared.
So okay my big goal for this year was to finish the first chapter of my C3 prequel fan comic A Long Road Home (southerngothiccomic.com), have a print edition made, and meet Laura and Marisha at a convention so I could give copies of it to them in person. When the CR cast announced they were going to be at Anime NYC this year I figured that was the closest they were probably going to get to me in Virginia. (And getting autographs at NYCC is reportedly like hunting a unicorn so I figured this would be my best chance.)
I was also terrified, and almost talked myself out of it because I was nervous about giving them the comic, even though I already had a badge and it was what I really, really wanted to do. I know the cast loves to see fanart — and also, it has been revealed, reads the fanfic — but it’s also a pretty well-known taboo for a fan to show their fanfic to a creator and a graphic novel is an unholy hybrid of the two. I was also worried that it would seem presumptuous of me to present them with a fanmade prequel graphic novel because there’s almost certainly going to be an official one at some point, and afraid that at best they might politely tell me they couldn’t accept it (for the reasons that comic writers aren’t “allowed” to read fanfic), and at worst they might be kind of annoyed that it exists. Either way I’d be REALLY sad, and in the weeks leading up to the con I worked myself up into an irrational panic about this. Fortunately my friends managed to talk me into not backing out (and spoilers: it turned out okay in the end!) but I was still very scared.
Also I was so focused on the comic stuff that I forgot until after GenCon earlier this month to think of what I wanted to actually have autographed. I decided to get a big print of the chapter one cover from INPRNT, assuming that since I ordered it two weeks in advance with an eta of 5-7 days that would be plenty of time for it to get to me. Well, reader, it was not. (But please do not let me dissuade you from using INPRNT! To their credit when I contacted them and asked if I could upgrade to rush delivery, they expedited it for free. Unfortunately even with rush shipping it just missed me, arriving at my house while I was on the train to NYC.)
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Pâté on the train going to see his biological parents. (Laura and Marisha.)
When I saw that it wasn’t going to arrive in time I was starting to panic because there is nowhere near me to have art prints made. It’s a 15 minute drive (past the alpaca farm) just to get to the nearest grocery store. Grasping at straws I was kind of like Should I . . . draw something? On paper?? With real media that I haven’t used in like 10 years??? I only have 3 days!!!
Fortunately my life was saved by @emphaticembroiderer who had the brilliant suggestion of sending my art ahead to a print shop in NYC and picking it up before the convention. There are indeed MANY of those in New York and I managed to find one that was open on Saturdays and able to make my print on short notice. (567 Framing on W 14th street. The owner, Jack Hu, did excellent work and was very kind!) By that point I was frazzled and didn’t want two of the same print so I decided to be self-indulgent and had this one made. Not my showiest piece but it is one of my favorite things I’ve drawn. (This turned out to be the correct decision.) It’s a 6 1/2 hour train ride from here to there (and it got a little delayed along the way) so by the time I got there it was after 5 and the print shop closed at 6:30 so I zoomed over there straight from the train station to pick it up. It turned out BEAUTIFULLY, and the owner was pleased with how happy I was with it and that he’d been able to help.
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He enjoys that he is included.
Then I went and checked in to my hotel and that point really just wanted to lie down on a bed but I had plans to take Pâté to see Hadestown on Broadway that night because I wanted to make the most of my trip. (Also it’s important for our scrungly son to receive a cultural education.) In keeping with the theme of the weekend I wore the Laudna-themed sundress I made for GenCon with one of the poppies in my hair. An usher told me they liked my ensemble. :) I had decided to go for a front row mezzanine seat because I didn’t know when I’d ever have this opportunity again and I didn’t want to risk my miniature self being stuck behind a tall person. It was perfect; I could see everything and the performance was AMAZING. Pâté had a very good time too.
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The next day was the CR panel and autographs!! I decided to wear my 1950s Laudna cosplay from GenCon. I had some doubts about it when I got there because without the rest of 50s Bells Hells the theme isn’t as clear and outside of a DnD-focused convention the recognizability of a CR character is kind of low, let alone an AU variant on one. But once I found the Critters my Pâté poodle skirt was appreciated. :)
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This is Rach @dadrielle, Astoria @astoriacolumnstaircase, Abby @overnighttosunflowers, and me as 50s Hells at GenCon!
And okay I know this said a lot but it’s true, CR fans are the NICEST fandom to be a part of. <3 If you’re ever standing in line for a CR thing by the time you get there you will have new friends. (For comparison the other-fandoms cosplayers I saw at the hotel and on the way to the con didn’t even return my smiles, even though we were all clearly going to the same place.) I fell in with a group of people who were near me in line (including an amazing Owlbearman cosplayer) and we decided to all sit together. The panel was really great. I don’t remember everything that was asked because of everything ELSE that happened later that day but they hinted that Big Things are coming (including multiple live shows!! Please come to Richmond! Or DC! Or at least somewhere on the East Coast!) for the 10th anniversary and Momlan stepped up to the mic during the Q&A segment and revealed that Sam has achieved his childhood dream . . . to become a minotaur. :D
With the mindset of making the most of this trip I had intended to try to get a spot in line to ask a question but I was hesitant about being on camera (even in cosplay) and while I was dithering about it like 50 people got in line. (I was also Suffering by that point because my rockabilly Laudna shoes have like 3 inch heels and after walking from the hotel to the convention center I didn’t have the fortitude to dart over to the line in them.)
My question, which I hope to submit next time there’s a Q&A opportunity, was this: For Marisha. We’ve seen Delilah’s influence manifesting in Laudna’s fashion choices recently. Now that she has the means and the freedom to do so, what kind of clothes would she choose for herself?
(Because I am a little sad that — until a possible post-campaign oneshot — we’ll never get to see a high-level Laudna costume that’s totally of her own design and I’m really eager to know what it would look like! Let her be spooky and free!)
Afterwards the cosplayers were being rounded up for a photo shoot but I was anxious to get a good spot in line for my autograph with Laura at 2pm so I stealthed away with Ken (@elissabrat), a Jester fan I had met in line, who knew where they were and had one with Travis at the same time. When we got there we were told No, go away and come back in an hour and a half, because it was still only 12. So we went to the Artists Alley where we found a girl named Lea whom we had also met in the panel line and collected a few other stray Critters (Ken has a boisterous and inviting personality and importantly, is very tall, preventing the rest of us from getting lost in the crowd) and we wandered around seeking out all the CR fan artists we could find. (There were a lot! It was great. I got some prints.)
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by Cait May and Maliveth
Around 1 we decided to go back and see what the line situation was. Before we parted ways I exchanged twitter handles with Lea, who looked at my profile and said “Wait . . . this is you?”
She told me she was a big fan of my comic and looks forward to it every week! and we were both kind of like !!! at each other for a moment. I had never met someone who recognized my art in the wild before. (On ANY other day this would have been the most amazing thing that happened to me, haha.) I was so touched to meet her. <3
I took out the two books I was carrying and explained why I was there and we all got hyped up about it. And it made it feel a little less daunting, to know that there was someone there who understood the quest I was on and how close I was to the end of it.
I was like 5th in line for Laura and since it was still early I got to participate in that bonding experience integral to every con, sitting on the floor in cosplay, with a very good Vex behind me. (Hilariously, even after the dig at them — or maybe unaware of it — in the most recent episode, there were a lot of Funko Pop resellers around us, haha.)
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I sent word to Southern Gothic Discord to remember me fondly in case I died here. In fact I'm not entirely sure that I didn't.
It felt like there was a disproportionate amount of fanfare revealing my print because I kept it how it was packed by the printer, wrapped in paper in between two pieces of cardboard so it wouldn’t get bent, so there was this whole ceremony of peeling back the tape, turning under one of the cardboard protectors, unfolding the paper, and turning over the print. But Laura loved it. She made like a happy sob when she saw it (it was really cute) and she looked at it for a long time taking in all the details and said it was beautiful. <3 <3 <3 (No matter how much we love and ship Imogen and Laudna, NO ONE loves them or is shipping them harder than Laura Bailey. She asked if I was going to bring it to Marisha too and was careful picking out a spot so there'd be room for both of their signatures. :))
I told her I was really happy to meet her because I’ve been a fan since BloodRayne (so, um. 20 years) and she said “oh wow, that was OG days!” And she gave me just a really kind look like she understood how much it meant to me to be there.
Then I gave her the comic. You all were right, I was worried about nothing! because she is the sweetest and she loved it. I very nervously pushed it across the table and said it was a comic I had made and wanted to give her. She picked it up and started turning the pages and was surprised when she saw what it was. “Wait, this is a whole novel! You made this?”
I confessed that I had, and she asked how long it had taken, I told her about a year (it was actually longer; in the moment I kind of forgot not how many pages there are in the first chapter but how many weeks are in a year) and she looked just really impressed that I had made it and touched by how much work had gone into it. She said she couldn’t wait to read it and seemed really excited to hear that it’s still going online! (So no pressure on me there if she's keeping up with it now, haha. o.o) And she kept looking between the book and me like she couldn’t believe it.
Then she asked me if I would sign it for her. :')
Somehow I survived long enough to do so! (a little wobbly because my hands were shaking) and someone (I think it was the ticket scanner) made a joke about how I was the first person to give an autograph at a signing, haha. And then she came around the table and gave me a hug. <3 <3 <3
After that my soul was still on the ethereal plane but the rest of me managed to find my way (after a brief wrong turn) to Marisha’s line. (There was a really good Keyleth and Caduceus in line behind me and they kindly noticed and returned the Pâté sticker that fell out of Marisha’s book).
She recognized my cosplay as 1950s Laudna right away! which was very validating after my earlier indecision haha. She loved the Pâté skirt and thought the scissors embroidery on my collar was adorable. She really liked the art too and was kind of like “Awww” about the book like in an “aww it’s an Imogen and Laudna thing” kind of way (she also liked the glass bottle windchimes on the cover and I love that she noticed that detail because Laudna’s penchant for turning things other people have thrown away into arts and crafts is one of my favorite aspects of her character) until she opened it and started looking through it.
Then she said, “Wait, this is actually really good," and she asked me seriously if Liam “Art Dad” knew about it (I said he had liked some of my other art on Twitter but I didn’t know if he knew about the comic) and then she said — still looking at it, more to herself than me — “We’ll have to add it to our art catalogue.” I don’t know exactly what that means (and I don’t want to get my hopes up too high by speculating; I was too !!! in the moment to ask and now I’m going to be wondering) but . . . it sounds . . . exciting??
They also both enjoyed Pâté and his lil sunglasses. :)
I had gone up with the intention of asking my other burning question: How does being cold-blooded affect Laudna in cold climates? If she gets too cold will she enter a state of brumation like a lizard? Will she freeze solid?
But I forgot. And it really wouldn’t have been the right moment. Maybe when I come back with Volume Two. :)
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You’re supposed to pay extra to get a quote put on there but they both did it anyway without even asking. I think they must be really pleased when someone brings them something personal that they’ve made to have signed and not something they’re planning to sell.
After that I just kind of floated away from the con even though it was only like 2:30 haha. Nothing else could have happened there that would have equaled or improved upon that experience. Although I did adopt a Tentacle Kitty. The vendor (correctly) guessed “you look like you’d vibe with our spooky collection” so I had to get a new buddy for Pâté. (50s Laudna, still readily identifiable as a witch wherever she goes.) Also I saw a very chill emotional support pomeranian in a backpack.
(On the way back I saw the mark of the Traveler graffiti’d in green on the sidewalk. Truly a blessed day. :P)
Afterwards I just sat on the bed in my hotel room amid the floof of my crinoline wondering what even is my life for the next few hours and being like !!!! at Discord. Then I met up with Abby (whom it was wonderful to see again!! thank you so much for coming to see me) for dinner and had a really lovely time going over the What Just Happened of it all and talking about Imodna over strawberry pancakes. As one does. Perfect ending to an amazing day. <3
It was SUCH an incredible, exhilarating experience, thank you everyone who pushed me into not giving up out of fear. Laura and Marisha are SO nice and gracious in person and it was just so rewarding, after all the work and love and time I’ve put into this comic, to be able to finally bring it to the people who inspired it! And to see it appreciated and admired by them! It was more than I ever could have imagined.
This fandom is the best. My heart is so happy and full of love right now. <3 <3 <3
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bimbo-baggins17 · 1 day
Note
KINKTOBER REQUEST!
hear me out:
incest, boot worship, and rape (I forget the numbers oops) with Kurt Matheson.
the idea in my head was that you're his sister or daughter. because of his untreated issues and very sensitive mental state, you visit him often to check on him. you end up staying over one night, nd during that night, it became unsafe to go outside, so you're stuck with him until further notice.
he confides in you about how long it's been since he's had a woman around him, and you get weirded out and ask him to stop, which bums him out.
in the middle of the night, he comes onto you, babbling about how desperate he is and how pretty you are and how much he needs you. ofc, he's a vet and works out, so he's much stronger and can easily overpower you. you wake up out of your sleep screaming and crying, and he ends up raping you.
finally feeling some sort of control, he tells you to worship him - his body, his voice, his very being - and he starts with shoving you down onto your hands and knees, one booted foot heavy on your spine while you're forced to lick at his other boot, cleaning away the dirt and grime.
I KNOW I JUST WROTE THE WHOLE DAMN THING OUT, BUT IF ANYONE CAN WRITE THIS, IT'S YOU!
I’M POSTING THIS ONE EARLY BECAUSE I CANT KEEP IT TO MYSELF ANYMORE
I know I already told you in our messages how much I loved this but OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. YOUR BRAIN IS BEAUTIFUL BNUUY. Hands down my favorite request like EVER. I went with it being his daughter. Definitely more of a fic than a drabble. Oopsies.
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TW: DDDNE!!! Rape and incest!!! Don’t like, don’t read.
One of the only times Kurt would make an exception to answering the door is when he knew you were expected. Every other week, like clockwork, you’d come with some groceries and necessities for your mentally unstable father.
“Hurry. Come in, come in.” His voice is gruff as he quickly ushers you in out of the storm before locking the door once you’re barely past the threshold.
You take a moment to look around his dimly lit space, discarded food cans litter the floor. You sigh as you set the bags of groceries down before stooping to try tidy clean some of it up. Kurt turns to come over to you, his eyes drifting to your ass as you do.
“You know, if you kept your space clean, it would probably help you a bit mentally.” You say with your back still to him. Honestly it probably wouldn’t do much to his fragile mental state but you still tried.
“You worry too much.” He says dismissively coming up beside you.
With a sigh, you straighten up and look at him, “Maybe you don’t worry enough.”
He huffs out a laugh, “You sound just like your mother. Trust me. I worry plenty.”
You shake your head but drop it instead, not wanting to argue. It was draining with him and you were always walking on egg shells. You opt for putting away the items you brought. “I’ll get these put away and then I’ll head out. I can’t stay long this time, sorry dad.”
He exhales and rubs a hand over his stubble. “Can’t give your old man a couple more minutes?”
“Sorry, not tonight. But I’ll be back next week with your med refills.”
He waves a hand at that, “Don’t. Theyre useless anyways.”
You stop and look up at him. “Are you implying you aren’t taking them anymore?”
Kurt looks away, shaking his head. “They don’t work anyways.”
“They can’t work if you don’t take them consistently. We’ve been over this.”
“Yeah you really sound like your mother now.”
You give him a look, unamused by him. “I only say that because I care.”
The lights flicker and both of you look over to the window seeing the storm has gotten significantly worse in the short amount time you’ve been here.
Your dad looks back to you again, “I don’t think I’m comfortable with you out in the weather like this.”
And that’s how you get roped into staying the night at your dad’s. You knew he worried. God he worried about everything. What led to your parents’ divorce was that exact reason. His PTSD got worse and worse until he was unable to leave the house for fear of the end of the world.
Both of you sit on the floor with a lantern between the two of you, barely giving off enough light. The sound of the storm outside drowns out the scraping of utensils in the cans you were eating from.
“How’s school been? I feel so out of the loop anymore.” Kurt speaks up, trying to make conversation.
You shrug lazily, “Alright I guess. You’d be in the loop more if you had a cellphone like a normal person.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I’ll ignore that comment,” He mumbles. His eyes move slowly over you again. He’d be lying if he didn’t think you were beautiful, the way your curves filled out more over time, the way your breasts seemed to nearly double in size over the last year. His chewing halts for a second as he feels a familiar twitch in his pants, one he hadn’t felt in so long. “You got a boyfriend?” He questions after a moment.
You stop and look up at him, shaking your head, “No.”
Slowly he nods his head. “You should. You’re beautiful.”
You shift a little where you sit, uncomfortable with the compliment. Sure it was normal for a dad to compliment his daughter but not your dad. “Um. Thanks.”
“I mean it. You’re looking more and more like your mom did in her prime.”
You look up at him again, “Uh..yeah I guess so.”
“Filling out like her too. Getting her curves.” He continues on. He probably should stop but it’s been so long and yeah it’s probably wrong but he’s so starved for pussy, he’ll take whatever he can. It’d be a waste of a perfect opportunity if he didn’t try.
“Dad?” You question with your eyebrows furrow together tightly.
He sighs and hangs his head. “Sorry. It’s just,” Kurt sighs once more and shifts a little closer to you placing a calloused hand on your leg. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman and I-“
“Oh my god, dad. Gross! Stop it!” You shove his hand off of you and quickly put some distance back between you too.
Kurt’s hand clenches into a fist as he brings it back to his lap. “Right. Yeah. Sorry.” He tries to suppress the disappointment in his voice.
“I’m going to bed, I just..ugh.” You were unnerved to say the least. You get up off the floor, leaving the half eaten can of food on the ground.
“You-uh..you can take my cot.” He calls after you before he’s mentally beating himself up again. This was going to be a long night.
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Kurt tosses and turns for what feels like hours on the floor, his cock so painfully hard. He sits up a little to look at you on his cot. You looked so peaceful while sleeping, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest with each breath. It was pure torture to have a woman so close but not being able to do anything about it. Any rational part of his brain was gone years ago so his conscience wasn’t telling him to stop as he got up off the floor, slowly making his way over to your sleeping form.
He reaches down and brushes some hair off your face, “So beautiful,” He murmurs, letting his hand move off your face, slowly tracing down your neck over the pulse point, then your collarbone before he’s allowing himself to squeeze your supple breast. He bites down on his lip to keep from making any noise noticing you weren’t wearing a bra to sleep. His cock throbs.
Kurt palms himself to try and cause any kind of relief this way as he continues to knead your breast, feeling the pebbled nipple poking his palm. He lets out a shuddered exhale. His eyes trail down further seeing the hem of your shirt bunched up a little. A peek wouldn’t hurt right? Not like you’d know. Slowly he inches the shirt up until he’s able to see at least one of your breasts. Leaning down slowly, he presses an open mouthed kiss to it.
You stir a little in your sleep but don’t wake up. He freezes for a second to make sure you stay asleep before he envelopes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.
“Fuck,” He murmurs, releasing it. Making a bolder choice, he lets his hand continue its decent to the waistband of your pants before he’s slipping it in, finding your cunt with his fingers. He draws in a shaky breath feeling how you were wet. “What’re you dreaming about babygirl?” He whispers into the dark.
Against anyone else’s better judgment, he eases your pants and panties down, revealing your core to him. He hesitates for a second looking at it, imagining how tight it would feel wrapped around his shaft.
“I’m so sorry baby. Just been so long..and..and it hurts. You know I love you. You’re my beautiful little girl. I know you’d forgive your dear old dad for this.” He rambles quietly before he’s easing onto the bed between your legs as he bends them. Quickly he fishes his leaking cock out, running it through your folds.
Time isn’t a luxury he has right now. As much as he’d love to savor this, he can’t so he pushes into you, keeping his eyes on your face to make sure you aren’t waking up. Slowly he starts to rock into you, biting back moans that threaten to spill out.
“Oh sweet girl..so good to me.” He pants out, rocking his hips into you faster as he chases his much needed release. The caution he had at first is quickly abandoned as his thrusts grow harsher.
You’re stirred from your slumber feeling something that you most definitely shouldn’t be. Hazily you try to make sense of what’s going on as you come to your senses. Quickly you put together that your father is on top of you fucking into you. “Wha-? S-stop! Stop!”
Kurt’s eyes fly open and land on your face seeing you’re now awake. “Shh..it’s okay baby. I know. I know. Just couldn’t help myself-“
You claw at him to try and get him off, shoving at him but he doesn’t budge. “Dad! Please stop!!” You cry.
“No. No. Just-..nghh..be good for your dad.” He grits out.
You continue to squirm and try to fight which only serves to irritate him. He can’t have that. The years of working out and military training served well and he’s able to easily over power you, pinning you down tightly against the cot. “I said, be good.” He continue to pound into your poor pussy, taking what he wants and not caring about your protests.
“Stop! Please!” You keep repeating the words through far tears that roll down your cheeks.
“Don’t cry baby. You’re helping out your dad.” It’s his attempt to console you. As if reminding you it was your father who was fucking you would somehow make it better.
Your protests soon die off, continuing to cry and sniffle under him.
“Good girl. Such a good girl.” He coos before he’s cumming into you. He leans down to press a wet kiss to your chest. “Now tell daddy thank you.”
Quickly you shake your head. The worst was over, so you assumed. You’d leave after he got off of you. “What? No. You’re sick. Sicker than I thought.” You sniffle.
Kurt leans back, a scowl on his face. “Ungrateful brat.” He spits the words out.
Your eyes widen. You’d upset him, that much was clear. You shake your head again, taking back what you said for the sake of not having him rape you again. “No. No wait. I’m sorry..I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.”
“Oh yeah? You’re sorry, hm?”
You nod your head. “Yeah. Yes, yes I’m sorry dad.” It made you sick to call him that now.
“Show me then. Worship me.”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “W-what?”
“I said, worship me. Make your dad happy.”
You don’t even know where to begin, how to lie that well. Kurt is unhappy with how long you take. Slipping out of you, he quickly yanks you up and shoves you onto your stomach on the floor before you can process what’s happening, his one booted foot shoved directly into the center of your back while the other one rested by your head on the floor.
“Lick it.” He instructs.
“What? Lick what?”
He huffs in frustration, “My boot. Lick it. Show your dad how much you love him.”
You start to protest despite your compromised position, but Kurt presses his boot more firmly into your back. “Lick. It.”
You shakily raise your head and stick your tongue out, giving a little kitten lick to the toe of it.
“More.” He encourages, adding more pressure. “Clean it with your damn tongue.”
You sniffle but oblige him, knowing you weren’t getting out of this without doing so. You run your tongue along the toe of his boot, moving to the front of it, dipping down to the sole of it.
“There we go. Much better.” He praises, “Now tell me you love me.”
You suck in a shaky breath, “I-love you dad.”
He hums happily, “Good. Now my voice.”
“I..love your voice.” You sniffle.
He releases a little of the pressure on your back, “My body.”
You fight the urge to recoil at the words he wants you to speak, “I-…I love your body.” You want to puke.
“Mm. There we go. You made your dad so happy, little girl.” He praises softly, “That wasn’t so bad, yeah?”
You shake your head for the sake of appeasing him, “N-no..it wasn’t.”
“Good,” He takes his boot off of your back but then places it down infront of your face. “Now lick this one.”
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detectivebambam · 3 days
Note
For the writing prompt thing, can I request Andrew with a child and injury?
hi I love Andrew with kids and I hope you don't mind it's Hailee (if you don't know Hailee Josten-Minyard she is tagged on my page)
also reading over this I noticed I talked about Lola. this is Hailee's friend, NOT Nathan's accomplice
I hope you like it, it's super short and I wrote the whole thing in 3 minutes <3
Andrew turned his head at the sound of the door opening. He and Neil had practice at the same time as Hailee, so Lola's mother had taken her home.
She had come in the door with a smile but couldn't hide her limp from Andrew.
"What happened?" He asked in an accusing tone.
Hailee shook her head.
"Bullshit."
"Fell off the bars during warm ups. I'm fine."
Andrew excused himself so he didn't yell, and went to grab his main suspect.
He walked into the bedroom where Neil was sat doing work on his computer.
"You know, when you work yourself to death, your daughter's gonna do the same thing."
Neil looked up and cocked his head.
"She fell during warm ups and practiced the whole day with an injury."
"Shit."
They went to the kitchen together to find Hailee sitting on the counter with a bag of peas on her ankle.
Neil gently lifted it to examine the damage.
"What happened sweetheart?"
"Nothing!" She snapped. "I just fell at practice, I'm fine."
Andrew had to leave the room again.
"It looks swollen," Neil said, turning her ankle this way and that. "Did you practice all day on this?"
She rolled her eyes.
Neil put his finger under her chin and met her eyes.
"No attitude. Answer me."
She only nodded.
"You can ask your dad what he thinks, but I don't want you putting weight on this for a while."
"Until gym tomorrow?"
She really did take after Neil.
"At least a week."
"Dad!" She shouted. "That's not fair!"
Neither of them heard Andrew come in, but he was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"Maybe it wouldn't have been as bad if you'd have stopped when it happened. Lesson learned."
The poor girl looked devastated. Puppy dog eyes didn't work on Neil, but Andrew always fell victim to them. It was how Kevin got things from him back in college.
"Do you need me to carry you to the couch so you can eat ice cream and watch Dance Moms?"
Hailee smiled and nodded. "Mint?"
Andrew faked a gag and picked her off the chair.
"You're just like your father."
Neil smiled to himself as they left and got to work making three bowls of ice cream.
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traffic-was-a-b1tch · 21 hours
Text
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wrapped around your finger
(jake kiszka x reader) 18+
author’s note: I RECOMMEND NOT READING THE SUMMARY BEFORE READING THIS FIC! if you want to have the full effect of the story, don’t spoil it for yourself! now for those of you who don’t know, along with gvf, I am a huge 5 seconds of summer fan. I wrote this fic based on one of their unreleased songs (my favorite of all time), wrapped around your finger. I recommend reading the fic first and then listening to the song on youtube after. I loveddd the experience of writing this fic because I got to live out the events of the song through my own character and I think that’s always fun! anyway, enjoy the story!
summary: jake takes you out for a night you’ll never forget. but when the morning comes, will he still be the man you thought he was?
warnings: SMUT!, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT UP!), oral (f rec), loss of v card (unknowingly), cursing, theft, angst, arguing, misogyny, underage drinking (I do not condone)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the clock read 6:37 pm and you were just coming back up to your room after mom’s chicken and rice dinner.
you had to kick a few boxes of pictures to the side on your way up the stairs. the new house was pretty but still unfamiliar. it had only been 4 months since your parents uprooted you from everything you knew and moved the family to california for your dad’s new job. the transition was tough at the beginning, but now was just boring. you had nothing to do. ever.
you plopped down on the edge of your bed that wasn’t covered in papers. you had decided to leave all your homework piled there, too lazy and overwhelmed to continue anymore. if mrs. turner thought that you were gonna finish her set of 50 algebraic expressions by monday, she was on crack. it was friday, damn it. why was everyone being so freaking difficult lately? couldn’t you catch a break? you eyed the pictures displayed on your wall, the contrast and vibrancy made you break into a small smile. you wished you were out taking pictures. you hadn’t got a chance yet, to capture your new city on film. it was calling to you…but so was your notebook and pen. you glared at them, frustrated. you needed something other to do than homework right now, but still you reluctantly grabbed them, starting on the next problem.
you don’t even know how much time had passed while you were scribbling math before you heard the tiny click. perking your ears up, you looked around to see what made the noise. you scanned around you. nothing in your room was out of the ordinary. the closet door was open as well, letting you see clearly that nothing was hiding in it. you suspiciously looked around one more time before going back to your equation.
so, if x equals the equivalent of 172 radical 4…
another click.
you recognized the direction the sound was coming from then, head focusing in on the window near your bed. you waited, wanting to see what was going on. after a few seconds, a pebble came flying up and smacked into the glass.
you got up and walked over to the window, peeking out to see if you could catch a glimpse of the person, at least you hoped it was a person, down below. a shadowed body was barely visible, the face too dark to tell any features.
damn it. you were hoping you wouldn’t have to do this. you were barely dressed in pjs, definitely not for unknown guests, and you had no makeup on.
slowly, you unlocked the window and pulled up, sticking your head out. just then, a rock came hurling up at you fast. you gasped and ducked, the solid circle traveling through the air and into your room. luckily for you, it landed on the carpeted floor so it didn’t make much noise. the last thing you needed was your parents to know someone was outside trying to get your attention this late in the evening.
you hesitantly peeked your head back out, seeing a pair of empty hands waving.
“hey! sorry!” a man’s voice called up, too loud when considering your parents’ keen ears.
“shhh”, you whisper-yelled back, “who’s down there?”
“it’s jake, from english”, he lowered his voice a little, “sorry for being so loud, I just wanted to see what you were doing tonight.”
you were a bit shocked and wondered if you had heard correctly. he wanted to see what you were doing tonight? what did that mean? I mean, you and jake weren’t particularly friends. sure, you saw him in class or the halls and he joked about teachers with you, but you wouldn’t say you two were friends. you definitely weren’t on the “show up at my door after dinner and throw rocks at my window, why don’t you” level. so, you had no clue why he would be here. you knew you didn’t have friends yet, but a childish thought popped in your brain. what if he liked you? no, that’s stupid. you hadn’t ever had much action back home anyway, so to think he liked you already when you had just gotten here was a delusion. but still, the question stood. why was he here?
“well, I was working on mrs. turner’s packet. I’m probably going to try to finish it tonight”, you hesitated, “why? what are you doing here?”
he finally came into view, stepping underneath the light shining from your bedroom. you took him in and became almost speechless. he was clad in dark denim jeans and a cream long-sleeve shirt halfway tucked in, buttoned only up to his nipples, where they would be anyway (you weren’t thinking about his nipples, definitely not), and completed with a ball cap. you had never really saw him like this before, relaxed and rugged. maybe it was just the soft yellow lights from your room that made him look this handsome. definitely the lights.
“well I, uh, was in the area”, he began, “you know, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?”
what? the hell? you couldn’t help but think that jake being outside your window asking you to hang out was just a cruel joke. or maybe, just maybe, it was fate? what if him being here was for a reason? what if this random hang out with a new classmate would be the best thing for you? the thought ate at your logic-loving brain. you had to tell yourself to shut up.
“um”, you thought for a second, “I’m not exactly dressed to go anywhere.” you laughed a bit awkwardly, looking at your pink rainbow pajama set.
“come on”, he urged, opening his arms out wide, “live a little.”
his words hit you. you hadn’t really had a social life lately, having no real time to get friends or join extracurriculars. you almost gasped when you realized.
you were lame.
sure, you never were the life of the party, even back home. but you wanted to be. you wanted to be the girl that people envied. with this move, you could make cooler decisions and nobody would know better.
“you know what, fine. where are we going?”
he broke out into a grin, “it’s a surprise.”
a twinge of doubt and fear hit your brain but you shook it away. maybe he was right. you needed to live a little.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you changed quickly into a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt. grabbing your phone, you sneaked down the stairs, past your parents’ room, and out the door.
you met him in the backyard, his back leaned up against the side of your white house. he seemed a bit taller than you remembered, towering over you.
he smirked, “you ready?”
smiling slyly back, you replied with a nod.
he cocked his head to the side, pointing to the direction you two were going to walk. you followed him, still a bit nervous but powering through. you hated the idea of not being cool enough to do fun, spontaneous things like this. he led you to the road and you started making the trek to wherever you were going.
“soooo”, he put his hands in his pockets, “where did you move from?”
“georgia.”
“ahhh, southern girl huh?”
you laughed, “yeah I guess. not too obvious?”
“nah. I would’ve guessed east coast, but now that I look at you”, he took in your appearance up and down, “you have that southern belle kinda look.”
you rolled your eyes with a smile, “oh really? what about me says southern belle?”
he shrugged, “you look sweet.”
you shut up at that. you weren’t sure why a small compliment from him would shake you up so much, but you couldn’t deny how attracted you were to him.
he chuckled, “what? I can’t say that? ok.” he shook his head with amusement, “you have any plans coming up?”
you shook your head almost immediately and laughed, “I don’t do much.”
he smiled and laughed with you, “well, there’s a party tomorrow night at jenny stewart’s house. I heard it was gonna be fun so i’ll probably go. you should come, it’s at 9.”
you fought the urge to raise your eyebrows in surprise at him. was he really flirting? instead you just nodded and said “maybe.”
he smirked and changed the subject, “so how are you liking santa cruz?”
you reflected on the time you’ve spent here and became underwhelmed. “well, the people are nice”, you slightly tilted your head towards jake, making him smile. “and…I don’t know. I haven’t made many friends yet and kinda get caught up in school, I guess. I haven’t had a chance to really experience everything here.”
“mmm. well, then I guess it was a good thing that you have me tonight.”
he stopped at a crosswalk and grabbed your shoulders. it caught you by surprise, and you tried not to shiver at his touch. “I have a question for you.”
“yes?” you answered a bit too quickly.
jake looked down before making eye contact, “can I have you tonight?” you immediately raised your eyebrows in confusion, and he continued, shaking his head. “can I have your time? show you what is great about this place?”
a small smile tugged at your mouth from his thoughtfulness and you nodded.
“yeah?” his eyes looked hopeful and sweet as he became excited, nearly jumping for joy. he settled a bit before saying, “ok, first things first:”, his eyebrows jumped, “race ya.”
he took off down the crosswalk, the sign still illuminated with a red hand. he was fearless, dodging two cars to make it to the other side. before you could talk yourself out of it, you chased him, nearly screaming when a car honked his horn at you loudly. when you caught up, you pushed him playfully and he laughed heartily. the rest of the walk was about 10 minutes, silence non-existent. he’d managed to get you to open up. you talked about your life in georgia, your old friends, your school. he filled you in on what happened in santa cruz before you. the conversation was easy and fun, flowing freely.
he led you to a mcdonald’s, the golden arches shining above you. this was a bit surprising, as you didn’t exactly picture a mcdonald’s being a particularly important part of santa cruz.
“follow my lead”, he smirked as he pulled the door and went inside.
there were a few employees inside mopping and a couple in the kitchen. jake swaggered up to the register and dinged the bell on the counter in front of him. one of the employees in the kitchen walked over and mindlessly asked what he would like to order.
“two big macs please”, jake said a little too confident, “and two drinks.”
the worker handed you two the cups and left to get the burgers.
“hey”, he whispered in your ear, “get me a coke, will ya? i’m gonna initiate phase 2.”
you looked at him questioning, but he waved you off and you listened. you went to the fountain, filled your cups with soda, and when you turned back around you saw what jake was up to. he was slinking to the part of the store that an employee had just mopped and, because there was no wet floor sign, turned back to you and winked. with one move he flung his head back and pulled his feet up, falling on his back, hard. you put your arm over your mouth to cover your shocked mouth. you started to giggle a bit at what just happened and jake, groaning, jerked his head at you to come over. you got the hint and gasped before setting the drinks down and rushing over to him.
“oh my gosh! are you ok?” you rubbed his arm as he twisted and turned in mock pain.
“oh no! no, no, no! I am not ok! who would have known that they were mopping there? there was no sign! oh, my back! having no sign for a slippery floor is so dangerous for your customers!”
you nodded and then shook your head, “so dangerous!”
by this time, all the employees had stopped to see this and the manager had come out to see what was going on.
the manager rubbed his bald head as he took in the scene and asked, “are you ok, sir?”
“no”, jake answered, “i’m not ok! I got hurt because of your negligence! i’m gonna sue!” jake crossed his arms and you followed, trying to seem genuinely mad.
“well, don’t do that!”, the manager bent to help jake up as he chuckled uncomfortably. “we can offer you coupons or free food or-“
jake, standing with a stuck up look on his face, cut him off, “I would imagine that my meal today is free!” he thought for a second. “in fact, I would like additional food to help with”, he fought back giggles, “my healing.”
“of course, of course”, the manager snapped his fingers at the employees. “whatever you need, sir!”
you two proceeded to order just about everything on the menu.
“…and two mcflurry’s”, you added at the end. out of the corner of your eye you saw jake smile at you, full of an emotion but you weren’t sure which it was.
only a few minutes later, all your food was in bags and you were walking out the door with too much to carry and zero money lost. as soon as you two were out the door and around the corner, you started laughing hysterically.
“when you- I didn’t know that you would- that was-“, you laughed.
he did too, smiling at you and then doing something unexpected: he put his arm around you. you tried not to let it phase you, clutching the food a bit tighter, but you loved the weight of his arm around your shoulder.
“you know, i’m surprised that you got into it as much as you did. you don’t seem like a troublemaker.”
you rolled your eyes, “well, i’ve never done that before, that’s for sure. but, I don’t mind a bit of trouble.”
he smirked at you, impressed, “good. we’re gonna get in way more trouble tonight, just wait.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you eventually turned a few corners and reached a big chain link fence. you couldn’t see what was beyond it very well, as there were quite a few buildings blocking your view.
he grabbed the bottom corner of the chain, which had been cut, and pulled it back. he looked back at you with a grin, “you ready?”
you couldn’t really believe you were about to follow a cute boy you didn’t know, who you talked to about your past and robbed a mcdonald’s with, through a cut fence to a unknown place.
you laughed a bit through your words at the absurdity of the situation, “yeah, I am.”
he offered his hand, his eyes hopeful. it occurred to you then that you were definitely going to take his hand. you couldn’t stop the night, too far in to quit now. even if you could, there was no part of you that would decline. you were his for the night.
you accepted his hand and he smiled. he bent down, squeezing himself through before helping you, the sharp edges around you catching on your clothes. you ease out and grab the food that you left on the other side. once you were all together, he stopped you before you could move.
“ok, do you know where we are?”
you looked around yourself breifly before answering, “nope.”
“good. i’m gonna go do something really quick and I need you to stay here.”
you nodded, a little sad he was leaving you.
“promise?” his eyes searched your face for sincerity.
“I promise.” you smiled and fought the urge to tell him that you wanted to promise your life to him. you kept all your thoughts inside as he grabbed the food and raced away through the alley of the building.
you shook at your thoughts, “ugh! stop it! you don’t know this guy! you need to stop before you embarrass yourself.” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes to center yourself. opening them back up, you saw jake coming back through the alley. his sleeves were rolled up and his ball cap had turned around, now facing backwards as he jogged up to meet you. you nearly passed out. what was it you said about not embarrassing yourself…
“you ready?” he pulled you out of your trance and you had to remember to answer.
nodding, you watched his body get behind you and place his strong hands over your eyes.
“ok, we’re gonna walk forward, but go slow.” his voice was right on your ear, low and raspy. you could barely concentrate, but you put one foot in front of the other and walked.
he led you through the alley, and from there you had no idea where you were. you relied on him to guide you, leaning back on him a bit. you almost tripped over a rock of some kind, letting out a funny scream-like noise. he chuckled in your ear behind you, making you almost shiver at his voice. god, this was getting hard.
“and… stop.”
finally, he pulled you back and stopped walking. he kept his hands over you eyes as he talked.
“before I show you, what do you hear?”
you listened closely.
“wind.”
“good”, he praised and you tried not to smile. “what do you smell?”
you sniffed the air, slowly.
“um”, you giggled at your answer, “fishy air?”
he laughed deeply in your ear, “good. now, what can you taste?”
you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out a little.
“hmmm, salt?”
“very good. now, are you ready to see?”
“for goodness sake, jake, we’ve been walking forever and I played your games, I think i’m ready-“ you tugged his hands off your eyes and lost all your words as you took in where you were.
the beach was beautiful under the moonlight, lighting up the waves as they crashed and sprayed. the water met the sand in a beautiful blue-tinted dark spot, and a few feet in front of it lied a blanket and our mcdonald’s bags. it was a picnic on the beach under the moon. you wanted someone to pinch you.
“jake- I-“, you couldn’t find the words if you tried.
“do you like it?”, his voice hopeful while his fingers grazed your arms lightly, his presence ever comforting behind you.
you looked back at him, “I love it.”
he grinned and grabbed your hand, leading you to the picnic.
“where did you find a blanket here?”
he smiled fondly, as if at memories you had brought up with your question. “my family used to come here all the time, so I always loved it. now that, you know, i’m grown and we don’t go out much, I come by myself. I keep a blanket in one of those lockers over there, just in case.” he pointed to a wall of lockers for people to stow their belongings while at the beach.
“and what about…“, you answered your own question by turning around and seeing what the buildings blocking your view of the beach were. “suites and private beach houses? wow, people have money.”
he laughed and helped you sit down on the blanket, fingers accidentally brushing your lower back. you locked eyes at the touch, dangerously fast, and you looked away before anyone could say anything. if you would’ve stared into his eyes for just a second longer, who knows would’ve happened.
finally, you both sat and got comfortable on the blanket over the squishy sand. he frowned, sighed, and shook his head.
your eyebrows furrowed at his actions, “what?”
he sighed again and made eye contact, “i’m just-“. he contemplated his words, looking up into the sky and then dropping his head to the sand before looking back at you. “i’m just really…”, his eyes danced around your face as he leant in, almost unaware he was doing so. it seemed like he was being pulled towards you, and you back to him. you followed his lead and leant in a little. he licked his lips, smiled sheepishly, and pulled away. “i’m just really hungry.”
you both nodded fast and you tried to shake the memory from your head. giving him a sweet smile, you grabbed a big mac out of the bag.
you two ate and talked for a good hour. half of the humongous bags were empty and there was nothing but happiness radiating from your spot on the beach. he had found himself on his elbows laying back, and you on one elbow looking down at him. he was so fucking charming. and it was going to be the death of you. you laughed at his horrible jokes and he smiled up at you, putting a fry between his teeth. you tried your best not to stutter or lose your train of thought, but it was so hard with him. he was just- perfect. and that was a dangerous thought.
“so”, you began after catching your breath from the joke, “what do you want to do? in life, I mean.”
he thought for a second, his head moving side to side. “realistically? or my dream?”
you smiled, “your dream.”
he grinned back, “musician.”
you rolled your eyes, laughing, “is that why I always see you playing that sg?”
his brows furrowed as a questioning look donned his face. “you see me play? when?”
your face blushed a bit, realizing how creepy the next sentence was going to sound. “after lunch. my next class is- well- when I leave- I pass the music hall on the way to my health class.”
he smiled at your embarrassment. “and you spy on me?”
“no! no, of course not! I just- see you through the window,” you backtracked, “like because it’s really big and I just catch a glimpse. I don’t watch you or anything-“
he threw his head back and laughed. you grunt in frustration, nothing you say making the situation sound less weird.
“it’s ok, it’s ok”, he fought to stop laughing, “I know you weren’t being creepy.” then, he raised an eyebrow at you. “wait, how did you know it was an sg?”
you shook your head, “my dad is a collector. it’s dumb but he always made me go with him to look in the vintage shops.”
jake smirked, “impressive.”
you shrugged, “I don’t know about that.”
he eyed you, “what about you? what’s your dream?”
you felt yourself get bubbly just thinking about it, a smile creeping on your lips. “a photographer.”
his eyes got bright, “pictures, huh? take one of me right now!” he stood, kicking up a bit of sand as he did, and struck a pirate-like pose.
you laughed and grabbed your phone, lining up the lighting and snapping a few shots.
he sat back down and urged you to show him, laughing at the situation. when you did, the joking left his face and was replaced by an expression of amazement and confusion.
“fuck, these are actually really good.” he looked up at you, “how did you get the shadows and highlights with just a phone camera?”
you shrugged, “i’m always just taking the picture by feeling. I get inspired and then it always just leads me to the perfect shot.”
he shook his head, still surprised at the quality, “this is perfect, don’t you realize? you could take pictures at my concerts!”
you laughed and nodded, “sure, jake.”
“i’m serious! you said you need inspiration and my music, especially the guitar solos, will definitely inspire you.” he tilted his head back and added, “plus I look super sexy when I play.”
you wanted to laugh, to play it off, but you didn’t want to admit how much that image was affecting you. you just decided to roll your eyes and shake your head, pushing the thought away.
“promise! say that you’ll be my personal photographer!” his enthusiasm was hard to turn down.
giggling, you agreed, “fine. but no nudes.”
he busted out laughing and shoved you.
after the laughs subsided, there was silence for the first time in the night, both of you too caught up in the eyes of the other. the tension was dangerous, waiting to erupt. still, there was a question still eating at you.
“jake?”
“yeah?”
“why this tonight? why me and the beach? why are you doing this?”
jake studied you, eyes drifting up and down your body. he motioned for you to come closer, his breath tickling your ear, “why not?”
you slowly turned your face to his, not backing up. you were eye to eye, foreheads almost touching and lips just inches from each other.
you broke the trance by placing a finger on his lips and pushing him backward. “race ya”, you challenged and took off towards the beach.
you heard him laugh from behind you, getting closer. you were about ankle deep in the water when he grabbed you around your stomach from behind, lifting you up and spinning you. water splashed up on both of you, drenching your clothes. giggles plagued both of you as he spun and then set you down.
you turned and saw his face…and you don’t think you’ve ever been the same since.
he was smiling, big. his hat had flown off in the run, the wind blowing his shirt open. his hair was flowing messily and his skin almost glowing in the moonlight. he was perfect. so amazing that you couldn’t find words to describe it. you hoped right then and there that this would last forever. you weren’t sure you’d ever get him out of your brain.
it was then you realized that your shirt had been soaked by the ocean, the white cloth sticking to the curves of your torso and becoming see-through. you looked down to see your light gray bra showing through, and looked back up to see jake’s smile gone. it was replaced with a look of deep desire. his mouth slightly parted, his eyes locked on your wet body. you stared at each other for a minute, your salty hair whipping at your face.
he came close, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, his hand resting on the side of your face. he leaned closer and nudged your noses, almost asking permission.
“jake…”, you trailed, begging him to keep going.
he came in so close that your lips were grazing each other, pausing just a second before closing the painful gap. he kissed you softly, and you sighed into it.
you knew then.
it didn’t matter anymore.
it doesn’t matter what else happens or doesn’t happen tonight.
you were his.
the connection was complete.
after a few seconds of sweetness, you kiss him harder. his hands find your waist, pulling you into his body. your hands hold his face on yours, slightly in his hair. he continues to kiss you deeply, hands roaming to your ass and then your legs, picking them up so he could carry you back to the blanket.
he made haste, nearly tripping from the sand on the way, making you squeal. he laid you down on the blanket gently, you legs wrapping around his waist naturally. you both giggled at the position you had found yourselves in, feeling the excitement and adrenaline. you could feel his hands shaking as they trailed up and down your sides. the kisses grew hungrier, both of you getting impatient. he disconnected your lips and sat back, panting. you watched from your laid position as he unbuttoned whatever was left of his shirt and shouldered it off. then he bent back down and lifted the edge of the shirt sticking to your stomach, pulling it up and over your head. your bra was removed shortly after, being tossed to the side. your chest laid bare in front of him, his breathing shook as he whispered under his breath, “you’re fucking gorgeous.” with that, he kissed you hard again, hands slowly cupping your breasts. you moaned softly in his mouth and it was obviously too much for him to handle, as he immediately fumbled for your jean shorts’ button. he undid them and tugged them off fast, throwing them to the side. he groaned as he took you in, only clad in your underwear. it was a white thong decorated with cherries and jake laughed when he saw it.
“cherries?” he smirked as he began to kiss his way down your chest, licking your nipple. you gasped and moaned as he continued down your stomach and reached the top of the thong.
he smirked and looked up at you. god, what a sight that was. his hair messed, his eyes dark and mischievous. he looked up at you like you were something to eat. and god, you hoped he had an appetite. “I wonder if you taste like cherries, too?”
you were speechless as his fingers hooked into them, inching them down and tossing them over his shoulder. automatically, your legs came together at the brisk air on your private parts.
“ah, come on baby”, he shook his head, “let me see her.”
he made eye contact with you and bit his lip as he placed each of his hands on your knees, prying them apart slowly. his eyes flicked down to your center and he took a throaty breath before he dipped his head down between your legs. hooking his arms around your thighs, he looked at you before lowering his face down and licking a long stripe up your core.
you moaned and threw your head back as he licked and sucked, already feeling like it was too good.
“fuck, you do taste like cherries”, he smirked, licking his lips, before diving back in. he teased you, going fast and then slow.
“jake, please”, you begged.
“what baby? use your words, honey.”
he stopped teasing and made out with you, only taking breaths to kiss your inner thigh. you squirmed and whimpered, his grip just getting tighter. your hands tangled in his hair and pulled, causing him to grunt and flick his tongue over you faster.
“jake- too much. I can’t-“, you pleaded.
“you can. you will.” he said it as a promise, like he had already made up his mind about it.
jake went faster, harder. he was making true on that promise. you felt your muscles tighten and your mouth fell open. you screamed as the orgasm hit you. he continued for just a minute more, working you through the rest of it, until you started to run from the overstimulation. he pulled back and admired the mess you made.
“fuck, cherry”, he panted, smiled, and came up to kiss you. “I almost couldn’t stop.”
you moaned as he kissed you, beginning to feel something hard and hot on your thigh. you gasped breathlessly, his bulge evidently turning you on. you reached down and touched him through his jeans. you didn’t even use much pressure and he was already groaning. too worked up for his own good, he tugged down his pants, and you couldn’t help but run your hands across his toned chest. as he removed his underwear, you sucked a small hickey into his neck as a little memento to remember your first time together. you were certain that this wouldn’t be the last.
jake finally got fully naked, lining himself up with you. your eyes met and he slowly started to push into you. he sighed in relief, like he was returning to his home inside your body. the stretch was painful at first, as he wasn’t small by any means, but when he started to move the pain went away. it felt so good. too good.
“fuck, baby. you’re gonna be the death of me.” he moved slowly, all the way in and almost all the way out.
the sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt, the pleasure taking over your brain and making you a mindless zombie.
“jake, oh my-“, you couldn’t even finish, cut off by a powerful thrust that hit a spot in you that you didn’t know existed.
“I know, baby. give it to me.”
the rhythm got faster, fueled by the pleasure radiating from both of you. soon, he was fucking you hard. the sound of slapping skin and moans mixed with the background noise of waves crashing against the sand was intoxicating.
“oh fuck, baby. are you close?” he was falling apart, evident by the squeak in his voice.
“yes! fuck, jake!” you could barely get the words out, too caught up in the feeling. the warm buildup started in your belly and you knew it wouldn’t be long. his grunts became faster and louder as he pummeled into you as hard as he could. he looked you in the eyes and moaned your name loudly, like he didn’t care who heard him.
“jake…”, you groaned, feeling the buildup get to the edge.
“oh, fuck. me too. show me, baby. show me how good you feel. cum for me.” he groaned at the thought of you falling apart on him.
you did as he said. moments later, you felt like you were engulfed by a wave of pleasure so intense you shook. you never broke eye contact as you moaned his name and squeezed his dick like a vice.
“fuck-“, he came with a groan. he shuddered and panted as he painted your walls. his eyes drifted away and he hung his head in the crook of your neck.
still inside you, he whispered in your ear, “you’re so amazing.”
you felt a smile creep on your face as you scoffed lovingly. he brought himself back up to look at you, brushing a piece of your hair away from your face. the smiles on both your faces were sweet and sappy, taking in the warmth.
you wished that this moment would never end. this right here? this was heaven. in jake’s arms, on the beach, orgasm haze washing over you both. it was all you’d ever want, you were sure of it. all you’d ever want is him.
he pulled out, hissing at the feeling, and tearing you away from your thoughts. “so, let’s get you cleaned up then.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
he used a napkin from the food bag to clean you off and then you both got dressed. pulling on your shirt, you saw jake glance at his phone.
“oh shit. it’s 12:06 in the morning. I gotta get home.”
“oh”, you tried to hide your disappointment, “that’s ok. I probably should too.” you smiled, walking over and pulling him into a hug, and he smiled back.
the walk back to your house took almost 30 minutes but you welcomed the time, dreading the moment he’d have to leave. you talked the whole way back, laughing about the night and things that happened at school lately. you held hands, swinging them like elementary schoolers with their first boyfriend.
you reached your house and turned to face him, sad. “I don’t want you to go.”
a small, empathetic smile tugged at his lips as he pushed you back towards your home. “go. you don’t want your parents to wake up and find you gone, now do you?”
you looked him in his dark brown eyes and wished you could tell him that all you wanted was a hug from him. all you want is a life with him. he became all you wanted within a few hours, sweeping you off your feet instantly. you needed him.
but all you could manage to say was, “ok.”
you kissed him one more time, softly. he smiled and kissed your back, his hand coming around to grab your ass. you squealed and pushed him away.
“stop it! my parents are like a foot away.”
he laughed, “fine. i’ll see you around.”
and with that, he turned and walked away. you figured you should do the same too, backing up slowly. you got to your front door and turned back to look at him. you hoped to see him looking back at you, but he was gone. frowning, you slipped inside. quietly, you made it to your bedroom and sat on your bed.
holy fuck. what just happened? this was the greatest night of your life.
you tore off your still-wet clothes and grabbed a towel before running to the bathroom to shower. the warm water ran down your body, washing away the sand and salt. you could still feel his hands on you, and you smiled at the reminder. when you were done washing your face, you went back to your bedroom.
you gasped when you stepped on something unexpected, but then smiled when you realized what it was. it was the rock from earlier tonight; the one jake threw. you smiled and picked it up, putting it on your dresser next to your favorite pictures. it was now going to be displayed with your favorite things. when you laid down, the comfortable bed swallowed you up as you thought about the night. about him. about jake.
you smiled and yawned, the happy memories and warm sheets lulling you to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you woke up the next day sore. you sat up and stretched, but your mind started to wander and soon you remembered the fun of last night. it filled your heart with happiness and all you wanted to do was see him again. but, in the haze of the night, you never exchanged numbers.
that’s when it occurred to you. jenny stewart’s party. he said it would be tonight at 9 and he’d probably be there. you almost patted yourself on the back for remembering. you looked over to your clock and almost screamed when you saw that it was noon. you slept late. too late. it was time to start preparing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you had jumped in the shower again, and this time it was an everything shower.
you washed and conditioned your hair thoroughly, did full skincare, exfoliated, and shaved everything. like everything, everything. when you got out, you wiped your hand on the foggy mirror and brushed your teeth to finish the routine.
you ran to your room and started picking out something to wear. you started by grabbing a lacy, black matching set. last night you weren’t prepared, but tonight you would be. you put them on, the black bra pushing your tits up perfectly. the lacy panties left nothing to the imagination, but that was the point. next, you turned to your closet to find a dress. this would probably take a while.
it took a good minute of searching before you found what you were looking for. it was a black dress covered with cherries. how perfect. you thought about how he’d love the subtle callback to last night’s events and giggled. you put everything on and smiled at how you looked. he was gonna love it.
next was makeup. you did a subtle look, swiping a bit of sparkle on your eye and blush on your cheek. the mascara you used made your eyelashes 10x longer and you batted them at yourself in the mirror. you added a bit of sparkly gloss as a finishing touch. you felt like a little girl, giddy to see your crush.
by the time you were finished with everything and put on comfortable shoes, it was time to go. you said bye to your parents, saying you were going to a study group with friends. you tried not to feel upset when they raised their eyebrows at you having friends, and just ran out the door.
the walk there would only be a few minutes because jenny lived in the neighborhood next to yours. you checked your phone and saw that you were gonna be a few minutes late, but that was ok.
as you walked up to her house, you saw that the party was in full swing. there were people in the yard and on her wrap-around porch, already tipsy and talking. you excused yourself by them and made your way up the steps and to the door. the music bumped inside the house, rap being played out of a speaker. you walked into her house and saw you were in the kitchen. jenny’s house was big and very nice, but it was a mess from the party. there was beer bottles everywhere, liquor spilt here and there, and tortilla chips spilling out of bowls. the granite island in the middle of the kitchen had all the booze on top of it, and you realized then that you had never really been to a high school party. not a real one anyway. the only party you were used to going to had punch and a piñata. this was a real party.
you decided to keep your focus on finding jake, looking around the room. you tried to make your way to the living room, accidentally bumping into a very drunk jenny stewart.
“heyyyyyyy girl!” she slurred her words and waved at you.
“hey, jenny”, you tried not to laugh at her state, “have you seen jake?”
“jake kiszka? yeah he’s here.” she almost turned away before she whipped back around and grabbed your arm, “wait. whyyyy?”, she said in a flirty tone. “are you guys togetherrrr?”, she smirked.
you blushed and looked down, “I mean, kinda.”
“shut upppp! go get him, girl!” with that, she pushed you towards the living room.
you laughed and continued on, smiling as you came into the living room. but as soon as you saw him, your smile disappeared.
there he was, dressed in a hot black t-shirt and jeans, leaning against the stairs with a drink in his hand. and next to him was a girl. her dark black hair fell down her back and contrasted with her fair skin. she had on a red bra-like top and the shortest shorts known to man.
they were laughing. talking. why was she making him laugh so much? her hand was on his bicep and his hand on her waist.
you walked over slowly, mouth still slightly open in shock. when he caught a glimpse of you, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from the girl, coming over to you.
“what are you doing here?” his tone was annoyed, impatient.
“um, what? what am I doing here? first of all, you invited me!”
he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think you’d actually come. it took a army to get you out of your house the first time.”
you scoffed at his rudeness but kept going, “well second of all, what the fuck are you doing?”
“what do you mean, ‘what am I doing’? i’m at a party, having fun.”
you’re eyes got wide and your voice got louder, almost able to be heard by others over the music, “you’re with someone else! what the fuck?”
he put his hand over your mouth and backed you into a corner where nobody would see you, “shut the fuck up. damn, do you ever stop talking? what? you act like we got married last night.”
your eyes glossed over with hurt as you ripped his hand from your mouth and spoke, “what? so nothing that happened last night means anything to you?”
he laughed and rolled his eyes again, “oh my god! it wasn’t that big of a deal. it was one night. yeah, we had fun. but I thought you knew it was just that: fun. you act like we said ‘I love you’ or some shit.” he took a swig of his beer.
you felt stupid. he was making you feel like last night was all in your head. the tears started to fall on their own and you couldn’t stop staring at him in disbelief.
he sighed, “oh, now you’re fucking crying? grow up, (y/n). we’re in high school. what did you think? we were gonna go run away together, get married, have kids, and live in the florida keys?” he scoffed, “you’re pathetic.”
you wiped your tears quickly and made eye contact again, “no, I didn’t think we were gonna get married”, that was a lie that hurt your heart to say, “but fuck, jake! we had sex on a beach and now you’re here flirting with some other girl like I don’t mean anything to you?”
“it’s just sex! fuck, you are so sappy!”
“you took my virginity, jake! what am I supposed to do? pretend like it never happened because you want to fuck some other girl?” the tears started again, and it was getting harder to hold them back.
he threw his hands up like he was innocent, “hey, don’t blame that shit on me! I didn’t know you were a virgin! you didn’t tell me shit.”
“so it was all about sex?! so if you knew I was a virgin, you would’ve never taken me out?” your shook your head, hoping you were wrong.
“no, I wouldn’t have”, he scoffed and said it like it was obvious, then he turned and ran his hand through his hair muttering, “this is such bullshit.”
you couldn’t help the disgust and shock plastered on your face as you took him in. this was a new person. this wasn’t the man you knew last night. maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe you were just a fool all along, believing his lies. you dropped your head and took a shuddering breath.
“so, you don’t want me?”
he turned back to you and you looked back up. he sighed at your face, covered in tears, like it was annoying to see you like this, like you were a rock at the bottom of his shoe.
“no, I don’t want you. I wanted you last night, and so I had you. don’t make this a thing, ok? normal girls know that when a guy shows up at their house at night asking to ‘hang out’, it means he wants to hook up.” he took a breath, “I guess you just thought I was asking you out so we could lay in a flower field naming the stars and counting the constellations”, he laughed at you, “don’t get me wrong, the sex was good but that’s all it was. now, we’re done.”
that was it. the truth. the truth you never wanted to know. you didn’t know what else to say to him, but you knew you had to say something.
“ok.”
he raised his eyebrows, “ok? you’re done crying?” he sighed, “alright, i’ll see you around.” he walked away, drinking more of his beer, and returned to the box-dye-black-haired girl.
you moved on autopilot, leading yourself out of the room and back into the kitchen with the loud rap playing. passing by the liquor island, you grabbed a big bottle of malibu and continued outside. the party was still going, people making out and talking everywhere. you found the porch stairs and sat down, opening the rum and chugging a good amount. you sat there, drinking and staring out into the moonlight for a long time. you could still feel his hands on you, and you shivered. it was now such an unhappy memory. when the malibu was about half gone, you pulled out your phone. you went to your camera app and looked at the pictures from last night. they started with the one of jake striking a pose right after he learned you wanted to be a photographer. you laughed at the memory and took another drink of the malibu. you swiped and found a bunch of pictures that you had took while you two were laying on the beach, right after you were done having sex. they started with you two smiling, then another of him kissing your cheek, then another of you kissing passionately.
“you can’t tell me that wasn’t real”, you muttered to yourself, looking at the picture and taking a swig of rum.
“boy problems?”
a girl’s voice startled you as she walked up to you from behind.
“yeah.” it was all you could say, the tears already welling up again. you turned off your phone, not being able to look at the happy faces anymore.
she sighed and sat down next to you, “I know that feeling. happened to me a year ago.”
“really?” you looked over. she was so pretty. her brown skin and hair fit well with her marbled glasses frames. she was dressed in a polka dot t-shirt and jeans with a headband taming her curls.
“yeah, some guy I met from a different school. you don’t even want to know what happened.”
you looked at her empathetically and handed her the bottle.
“thanks”, she took a drink and turned to you, smiling. “i’m kate.”
“(y/n). it’s nice to meet another girl who can relate.”
“oh yeah”, she sighed, “I definitely can. so, who’s the guy?”
you hesitated at first, but then thought: what did you have to lose by telling her?
“a guy named jake.”
she gasped, “wait. kiszka?”
you nodded and took another drink.
“that’s the guy who broke my heart a year ago.”
you nearly spit out your gulp of rum. “what? he dated you?”
she rolled her eyes, “yeah, well I wouldn’t call it dating. it was one night. a glorious night on the beach.”
you went still but stayed silent. of course. of course, it was all a prepared night. it was a routine he did to make girls put out and then leave them high and dry.
“I know that’s what happened to you, too. i’ve heard it’s what he does.” she shrugged and took the drink from you, downing some more. she looked over at you and smiled softly, “i’ll help you get over him; I don’t have many friends anyway. we can go get slurpies and sour candy and go watch step brothers at my house.”
you laughed and nodded, laying your head on her shoulder, “that sounds great.”
a silence fell over you, only the faint sound of music and breathing audible.
“it feels like i’m never gonna be alright.” you were such a fool for him. you let him build you up just to tear you down. you hated how much you still wanted him, after everything.
“yes, you will. believe me, it takes time but you get there eventually. until then you just have to deal with it: being wrapped around his finger.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END.
this one took forever to write (purely because i’m lazy and took so many long breaks lmao) but it’s so rewarding to see it finished! please let me know if you liked this one and what you would like to see next! love you guys so so so much! 💓
(comment under this post to be added to my overall tag list because I just realized I don’t have an overall tag list lol :))
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aurinavenir · 2 days
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Hi there<3 I have a question. I want to try writing, but I know it will suck so I don’t know how to start. I just want to finish a short story about anything. How do I start without giving up immediately?
Hi there! I'm always happy to answer questions! I have three suggestions based on my own experience that might be helpful: 1) On getting started: When I was around ten, my grandmother (a passionate writer and poet) encouraged me to write every day after I told her I wanted to write stories like the ones I loved reading but didn’t know where to start. She suggested starting small—maybe writing a hundred words on the computer or filling half an A4 page each day. The idea was to gradually increase the goal over time. If I wrote more, fantastic! If not, I still hit my target. The important thing was having something written down, and those little goals quickly started adding up. She always said, "success breeds success," and seeing my progress made me want to keep going! 2) On worrying about 'bad writing': First, It’s completely normal for your first attempt at something new not to be your best work—everyone starts somewhere. That’s what practice is for! No one’s first attempt at anything is going to be perfect, and that’s okay. Writing can be a fun and rewarding skill to practice, the important thing to remember is: don’t give up! Second, Jodi Picoult said: “You can always edit a bad page. You can't edit a blank page.” If you look at what you’ve written and think, "this isn’t great," don’t worry! Every writer feels that way about their first drafts in some way, shape or form. That’s what editing is for. The key is to get the basics down, no matter how simple, and then go back and refine it when you’re ready. There's something incredibly satisfying about looking back at your old work/drafts and seeing how much progress you've made! At the end of the day writing is all about rewriting—final pieces are simply the result of revising over and over, not something that was perfect from the start. 3) A writing tip that helps me maintain momentum: Try ending your writing session by leaving a sentence unfinished (though have an idea of how it ends). It might sound odd, but this technique worked for Ernest Hemingway, and it works for me too! I find it much easier to pick up where I left off because the unfinished sentence creates a natural momentum, making it easier to dive back in and continue. I hope these suggestions are helpful! Of course, these are just based on my own experiences, so feel free to take what works for you and leave the rest. I'm sure you have some amazing stories in you that are waiting to be told, and it would be a shame not to put them on paper! Give writing a shot and stick with it—you might just surprise yourself! Happy writing! :)
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callalillywrites · 2 days
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His Scarred Omega Part 7 (Final)
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Part 6 / Series Masterlist
Relationship: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader
Word Count: ~1850
Summary: It's been a few months since Bucky, Omega, and his daughter have moved in together. Omega makes a few revelations and wants Bucky to hear them.
Warnings: Bucky Barnes (he's a warning), some angst due to revelations (nothing too bad though), confessions, fluff, happy ending
A/N: I wrote this story really fast as I mentioned above. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.
I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.
*****
Omega finds herself realizing that she’s really in love with Bucky about three months after they move into their new home together.
She still wants to take things slow for Gracie’s sake, but she also knows that she wants to show Bucky that his hopes aren’t unfounded.
All the doubts she had about him and his desire to be a father to Gracie are unfounded.
While she’ll always wonder why Dot lied about Bucky, she’s seen enough of his actions to know Bucky’s a good man. The same good man she recalls meeting so many years ago and really liking. The one she wanted to make feel like a part of their family as he courted Dot.
If she needs any further proof, she finds it one day in their shared office. One of the documents Bucky’s been working so hard on has his signature in the corner. She knows it’s his because she saw him sign it personally. Though, it’s the first time she’s actually seeing his signature up close.
She’s long since memorized the letter Dot showed her so many years ago. She’d certainly read it often enough those first few weeks and found it among Dot’s possessions when Dot died. The signature on that paper doesn’t match the signature Bucky put on the document a few days ago.
Sure, it’s possible his signature has changed over the years, but the differences are too much to not know that the one on Dot’s letter is a forgery.
Omega also realizes that while Bucky doesn’t mind electronics (even loves all the new tech out there and geeking out about some of them), he prefers writing anything personal by hand. It’s just a quirk of his, one she really admires.
The typed letter Dot showed her didn’t match what she knows about Bucky.
Determined to get to the bottom of this, she digs through the box of Dot’s old paperwork until she finds the letter. Reading over it erases even the last vestiges of doubts now. There is nothing in it that even hints at the way Bucky expresses himself. Not the demeaning language used in the letter nor the way the sentences flow without regard to what’s said in the previous one. Bucky’s much more detailed oriented than that and far more careful with expressing himself through the written word.
“Why, Dot? What did he ever do to you? What did I do?”
There are no answers to her questions, but she’s able to put the matter finally to bed after all this time.
She rips the letter into the smallest shreds she can manage and stuffs them into the wastebasket to take out later.
Needing to find him and confess her feelings after these revelations, Omega pushes out of her chair and heads towards the kitchen where she finds Bucky cleaning up after Gracie’s after-school snack.
“Hey, Gracie-girl, you should get ready. Angel should be collecting you soon,” Omega says as she comes into the room though she doesn’t stop until she’s near where Bucky is working.
“Yeah, yeah, you two are going to do grownup stuff. I already know.” Gracie’s huff holds no malice but rather happiness as her two favorite people slowly come together. She’s been sending up daily wishes that they get together. It’s all she wants.
Bucky chuckles softly beside Omega as Gracie leaves. “I love that girl.”
“I know you do. She’s easy to love.”
He turns to face her. His hands come up to cup her cheeks as he says, “So are you, Precious.”
It’s the closest he’s ever admitted to loving her, but Omega wants (nay, needs) to hear him say the words to her. She doesn’t know if she can admit to her own feelings if he doesn’t take that step first.
Yet, a part of her knows he won’t. He’s been clear in letting her lead this relationship between them, and he won’t change that now even if he dearly wants to.
She knows he wants more from her. Their connection has given her plenty of insights into how much he wants more. His actions say the same every day, but he never says the words out loud for fear of spooking her.
Angel shows up on time to collect Gracie, shooting Omega a wink before they leave the porch. “Have fun tonight, girl. You deserve it, and so does Bucky.”
Omega returns to the kitchen a few minutes later, a little shell-shocked that her new friend has figured out in mere seconds what it’s taken Omega months to realize.
The pure delight on Angel’s face gave Omega the courage she needs to say, “I know we want to see that new movie tonight, but I was hoping maybe you wouldn’t mind doing something around here instead.”
That has his attention.
“Yeah, that’s fine if it’s what you want. You okay, love?”
She nods, fighting the smile that threatens to break out at his sweet concern.
“Any place special you want me to order from?”
She shakes her head. “I’m happy with our usual from that place down the road if you’re okay with it.”
“Okay. Let me put these things away, and I’ll order.”
Omega smiles at him. “I’m going to change into something a bit more comfortable. Meet you in the living room in, say, twenty minutes?”
“It’s a date.”
Bucky’s not sure what’s changed exactly, but he senses something’s still up with Omega. He doesn’t think it’s anything bad, but then, he can never be truly sure. That doesn’t stop the hope that bubbles to the surface and has warmth spreading through his chest.
The last of their dishes are put away, and food’s ordered by the time Omega appears.
A low whistle of appreciation passes his lips as he takes in the frilly top and shorter than normal shorts she’s donning. She’s wearing her locket and the small diamond earrings he bought her last month. What makeup she had on for the day has been washed away, but then she’s never needed makeup to turn Bucky’s head. Her natural beauty is enough to have him ready to follow her anywhere.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, earning him a shy smile in return. “Food will be here soon. Is there anything you want or need until it gets here?”
Omega shakes her head, then seems to think better of it as she approaches him slowly. Her arms come up until her hands clasp around his neck. “Just need you, handsome.”
Before he can quip back, she presses a soft kiss to his lips.
Bucky tries so hard not to melt under her sweet assault, but he’s finding it hard not to. He’s not even sure he wants to fight the way she’s making him feel for reasons yet unknown to him.
When she pulls back, he doesn’t let her get too far, pressing another kiss to her lips. He does resist the urge to nip at her bottom lip though it does tempt him something fierce when she nibbles on it as she meets his gaze.
“What’s that for?”
“Just because you’re you.”
“Hm, maybe I should be me more often.”
That earns him one of her giggles that has his heart soaring with pride. He lives for the moments he can pull one out of her.
Without really thinking too hard, he sets his hands at her waist and begins to sway back and forth. It’s been too long since he’s danced with her (less than a week ago but that’s still too long) and he’s got to make up for that.
“There’s no music,” she says though she leans into him with her hands tightening around his neck. Her feet follow his as though she’s been following him for years.
“Don’t need it.”
Another giggle escapes her.
“This is one of the many reasons I love you,” she murmurs, her cheek pressed to his chest and swaying with him.
His feet falter, but he quickly rebounds. His hands tighten at her hips and tug her closer. His lips press against her hair as he asks, “You love me?”
“Yeah, I do.”
She yelps when he lifts her up so they’re face to face.
“Say it again,” he commands.
Omega smiles as she wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, helping him to better keep her up. She closes the distance between them until their lips are a breath apart.
“Bucky Barnes, I love you,” she presses a kiss to his lips, “so,” another kiss, “so very much.”
He groans before he claims her lips in a kiss that melts her against him until she’s glad he’s holding her up.
The earlier desire to nip at her bottom lip comes back, and he doesn’t fight it this time. He wants her to remember this kiss for days, so he’s not about to stop.
When he finally pulls back for some air, he keeps his forehead against hers. His voice is rough as he manages to say, “I love you, too, Precious. You’ll never know how much, but I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you.”
She initiates the kiss this time, only pulling back when the doorbell rings.
A deep growl leaves Bucky at the interruption, but he reluctantly sets her down.
“We’re continuing this important discussion the moment I’m back.”
She grins. “Looking forward to it.”
Bucky does his best to play nice with their delivery person, but his eagerness to return to Omega has him grabbing their food while shoving a generous cash tip at the person. The door practically slams in their face as they shout their gratitude back at him.
Omega’s giggle at his antics pulls another low growl out of him. Oh, she’s well aware of her effect on him, and she’s reveling in it. He knows it.
They soon have their meal spread out across the coffee table with pillows under them to cushion the floor and the sofa at their back. Between bites of food, they continue to share kisses when they aren’t discussing the next steps they want out of their relationship.
Bucky agrees with continuing the slow pace for Omega’s comfort, but she agrees to consider moving into the main bedroom before the year is out.
When the topic of claiming each other comes up, Omega surprises Bucky by saying, “Maybe we can take a weekend trip soon. Somewhere fun and romantic. Just you and me. We can see how things play out and go from there.”
Bucky pulls out his phone and taps at the screen until he has his favorite travel app open.
“Type in anywhere you want to go, love, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Such an eager alpha, you are,” she teases.
“Yeah, but I’m your eager alpha, Precious. Good luck getting rid of me now that you’ve said you love me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of getting rid of you, my sweet Bucky.” Her hand comes up to wipe away some sauce from the corner of his mouth. “My true mate, you’re it for me.”
She seals her words with a kiss.
*****
This might be the end of the main story, but we're not done with this pack or this universe by a long shot.
Main Masterlist
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angel-gidget · 2 days
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DC Plot Bunnies on my Brain
Time-traveling Kon talks to his younger self about Tana Moon. I’ve been exploring the 90’s Superboy corner of fandom lately, and boy do those guys have some thoughts about Tana Moon. Muy negative.
I think an adult Kon who had a chance to talk to his younger self might also be able to express some criticism of Tana, but he would not be harsh about it. I think he would still view his younger self as having a lot of agency, and he would still remember how much he loved her.
So how do you explain to your younger self that the current “love of their life” isn’t actually good for them? Very veeerry gently.
Kon bed-hopping fic. I actually started this one over a year ago and have snippets of it on my hard drive. Basically, after the Gemworld and multiversal hopping, Kon has a paranoia about being alone, and he doesn’t have a place to stay. (I wrote this before reading about the Kents remembering him after all, so this is written with the assumption that he has nowhere to go.)
So Young Justice takes turns housing him. And then the sleepovers end up being a pretty effective way of catching up with old friends like the core four and getting to know the new ones like Amy, Naomi, and Jinny.
Kon/Lophi slow-burn. In my current Kon fic, I imply that if YJ had showed up later than they had, Kon would have felt duty-bound to stay on the Gemworld to raise baby Martha. I could write a story exploring that as well as his and Lophi’s relationship. However, core four fuzzies would still be involved, bc the team would 100% find a way to visit Kon on the regular if he were stuck in another dimension.
Kon/Amy slow-burn. Set after the YJ multiverse hopping storyline. With no way to return to the Gemworld, Kon and Amy are left to mourn it together. This leads to bonding. Amy does, however, have some experience with going between worlds and have some coping mechanisms to offer Kon. In turn, he’s able to make her feel more at home with the team.
Amy Winston character exploration via Young Justice. There is a LOT to explore. For one thing, Amethyst was never a very character-driven comic, so there’s a lot of scenarios where I have no clue what Amy would do. So I gotta start writing to find out.
In her own 80’s title, Amy can go back and forth between being confidently heroic and remembering that she’s a scared kid. Part of that was the physical transformation she would go through. Turning into a physically 20-something a la Shazam made her feel more confident. But she doesn’t have that trait in YJ continuity.
So maybe her magic is the key? In the 80’s series, Amy’s magic was very strong on the Gemworld, but would fade to nothing when she crossed over to Earth.
So what if in this Wonder Comics YJ ‘verse, her magic is fading away slowly while she’s stuck on Earth and that gradually eats at her confidence? What if she does bond with the core four, but then becomes scared to tell them that the thing that (in her mind) makes her a superhero is fading away?
Post-Mini Series Amethyst story. I have a very detailed write-up of this in my drafts. I was very frustrated with Amy being turned into, like, a Gemworld deity thing at the end of her OG series. But I write out a plot taking place after it that would allow me to really come to terms with it and have fun with where the characters are at that point. Might post the outline later. Basically makes Amy, Young Princess Emerald, and Donal (Topaz and Turquoise’s son) all co-protagonists.
Tim/Cassie detective competition. In a (fairly recent?) Wonder Woman storyline, Cassie referred to herself as a detective, and asked for time to investigate the murder of Hypolyta. What if that had consequences? What if there is some kind of, idk, Teen Detective Competition and maybe Donna enters Cassie’s into it bc she thinks she’d be into it?
Of course, Tim has entered but only because he sees it as chance to get close to someone else he’s actually investigating. But as soon as he sees that Cassie is one of the entrants things get… genuinely competitive for both of them. And then the trash-talking somehow turns into flirting when neither of them were paying attention?
Tim/Cassie preboot Identity Exploration. Cassie is reveling in having Kon and Bart back from the dead. She and Kon are “just friends” now, and tho a lil’ awkward, it’s still good. But a few passing comments between the three of them lead Cassie to realize that some of the things she knows about Tim’s civilian identity are contradictory.
She begins to obsess a bit. After all, Tim was her main support through OYL and other hells, so shouldn’t she know him better than anyone?
Meanwhile, she is utterly failing to make a go of her “Drusila” identity. When Tim hears about that, he offers to help. And as Tim teaches Cassie how to be someone else, he ends up revealing things about himself that clarify some of those contradictions that stumped her earlier.
Tim/Greta set during 90's YJ. Steph gets frustrated with Tim's lecturing and breaks up with him. Secret sees this as an opportunity, and shoots her shot. Tim has had an insane day and decides "ok, why not?" Queue their relationship subtly changing events throughout the YJ and Robin series.
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fictionadventurer · 2 months
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Beauty and the Beast for the WIP game?
My only real attempt at writing poetry before this year happened during a stretch when I tried to write a Beauty and the Beast retelling in verse. I got about two-thirds of the way through before it fizzled out and languished forever unfinished.
When it comes to my recent novel-in-verse obsession, the simplest option would be to take another look at this work and try to finish it. There's a lot of terrible poetry in there, but there are some that are somewhat better than I remember. I can't claim to be a judge of what's good poetry, but some of these are readable, so I'll share some of them here.
The first set of semi-readable poems covers the first meetings between Beauty and the Beast. (These are all numbered, and I'm leaving the numbers in place to better differentiate between separate poems. I think the speaker in most of these is fairly clear from context, but just in case, I'll put the speaker's name in the title, too.)
VI. beauty and beast
he is every nightmare i’ve ever forgotten he is thunder and darkness and death he is fear with fangs he is beastly
she is every dream i’ve never dared for she is roses and sunlight and life she is hope with jewels she is beauty
*
VIII. beauty
the chair creaks when he sits
my knees quake when he speaks
the master laughs when i ask
when i will die
my ears doubt when i hear
my mind reels when i realize
the master wonders when i began
to think he’d kill me
IX. beast
the rules are these you are mistress of this castle the servants will obey your every whim the rooms and all within are yours including me
you will dine with me at dusk we will not speak if you want silence you will look at me and try not to scream
i will not harm a hair of your head i will not cause a moment’s worry you will do whatever you wish except leave
X. beauty
his mercy shatters my world makes it bigger and at the same time smaller
how can i live in a monster’s cage
my life will be long and lonely with him my friend and at the same time jailer
how can i look at a monster’s face
the castle teems with wonders that all belong to him and at the same time me
what do i do with a monster’s love
*
The next set of poems I feel like sharing starts with Beauty finding a portrait in the castle, and then leads into her sharing a dance with Beast that makes her kind of freak out over the fact that she might be falling in love.
XXII. beast
today you found a painting in a long-forgotten room covered in cobwebs and shrouded in dust
there was a reason it was lost
the portrait showed a man with a face like the dawn and eyes like the sea you thought he looked kind
he was young and a fool
you may keep it if you wish or lock it back in darkness it matters not to me i used to see him daily
i doubt i’ll see his face again
*
XXIV. beauty (and beast)
if rooms have souls the ballroom is wise a radiant beauty long past her prime
she treasures the days when she lived and was loved she keeps them and counts them like pearls on a string
(she is not the only one, my dear)
long past midnight in moonlight and hush this sleepwalking girl can glimpse former days
a flash of a gown and a whisper of waltz what glorious balls must this room have beheld
(they were marvelous indeed, my friend)
it seems a shame she grows old alone with nothing but darkness and dust held within
i would dance for her return the spark of life if only we had music and i had a partner
(i will gladly dance with you, my love)
XXV. beast
my dear beauty don’t you know i learned dancing long ago
one step closer take my hand with a waltz you’ll understand
let the music guide your feet in a dance that’s slow and sweet
hand in hand and heart to heart it’s not love but it’s a start
XXVI. beauty
he is hulking beastly
i am small delicate
i should be stumbling crushed
but
we marvelously miraculously dance
and it feels like flying
XXVII. beauty (to the portrait)
man on the wall i may be mad but i must give voice to the storm in my heart and you are the only one near
the master puzzles me i know his home as well as my own but i know so little about him
(is he beast or man or nightmare or dream or captor or friend)
i saw his face and thought him a beast
(but he grows roses and reads poems and has never killed or even raised his voice)
i heard his voice and thought him a monster
(but he spared my life gave me his home and all he owned offered his heart and never once has been anything but gentle)
i watched him dance and thought him a man
(with grace like an angel or a prince and i think that maybe he was not always so lonely and that his heart aches for things lost)
what am i to think do say be feel about him now
and why do these questions always come at midnight
*
The final poem is one that I had completely forgotten about, so I was shocked to find it lurking in the latter sections of the document and showing signs of using some decent imagery. By polishing up the last couple of lines, I've got something that's not half bad as a standalone poem.
This one occurs during an extended period when Beauty is still trying to process her feelings toward Beast and figure out if this is really love or if her feelings are being warped by isolation and close proximity.
XXX. beauty
if this is love it is a dark and grasping love a child stumbling in the night crying for a candle flame and cherishing the smallest spark of light
if this is love it is a bleak and desolate love a skeleton tree in a barren desert windbeaten and scrubbed to bone and bursting into bloom at the first drop of rain
if this is love it is a smoke and mirrors love a sleight of hand or trick of light that takes my broken heart and fools me into thinking he can make it whole
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sysig · 10 months
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Delusions (Patreon)
"Could I have your hand, sir?" Max didn't move, which Dexter was, sadly, getting used to.
"Sir?" Max jerked, then turned and stared at him, lost and blank. "Your hand, please."
Max's hand lifted shakily, and he laid it gently in Dexter's upturned palm. Dexter gave a quick and quiet "thank you," then turned it over in his own hand, observing him closely.
Too closely - his knuckles were rough and his fingernails were dull and cracked in places. His once-soft, not-a-day-in-his-life-subjected-to-hard-labour hands were now, already, toughened and split and scarred in places, especially the heel of his palm. He turned it over again, this time to stop looking so intensely. He had only wanted to give it a cursory glance to begin with.
"Do you know what I see, sir?" he asked as conversationally as he could manage, running his fingers along Max's abused flesh. He seemed to be at least half paying attention, his eye gazing down between them, and he'd occasionally twitch, encouragingly Dexter thought. He seemed to want to curl around him, then stopped and shook, his hand squeezing into a fist. Dexter coaxed him back out, encouraged him to hold himself lightly.
"What do you see?" He was almost startled by Max actually continuing their conversation, that happened so rarely now, shaking and quiet as it was. He took a deep breath, was he really going to do this?
"I see a hand, with five fingers." Max remained quiet, though his brow curled, and a guarded look came into his eye, though he still wasn't looking at Dexter. He felt a pang of guilt, but he had to try. "What do you see?"
Max's eye unfocused and began to water. He looked up, but not enough to reach Dexter's gaze in return, instead staring through his chest, and he felt just as hollow and empty as he must look to him.
"Do you take me for a fool, DAX?" Quiet and as close to angry as he'd heard since they'd been here.
No, not angry.
Betrayed.
He swallowed down the stinging lump at the back of his throat. He had to put on a brave face, had to keep his composure if he wanted Max to get better. That was the only thing he wanted, more than anything.
"Of course not, sir. Genuinely, what do you see?"
Max pulled his hand away and turned his body, his bandaged side facing Dexter. Shutting him out, pointedly. Dexter's empty hand curled into a fist, he was no better.
"Please, don't..." Max took a shallow, shuddering breath, and several beats before he spoke again, even quieter. "Don't ridicule me." Dexter could hear his breath catch, and he wanted nothing more than for this all to just stop.
"Sir, I didn't-"
"I've had enough of that." He shook his head stiffly, the action strange and wrong, like he had forgotten how. He stilled, his head turned even further away. "More than enough."
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#ZEX#Dexter Favin#And a drabble-fic under the cut#I ended up writing that the night after I read - I was a bit too inspired while busy so it's a little on the unfocused side haha#I would've cleaned it but I worry it wouldn't make it out of that stage! Please enjoy it for now <3#This set is mostly periphery ideas - inspired by events rather than directly shown ♪ I suppose the first two kinda count tho#But they're more directly of the little scene I wrote ouò Poor ZEX </3#And Dex! He's usually so capable! But he's stretching himself so thin ahh it's hard to watch in the best way#Of course he doesn't want to give ''Max'' over to just anyone - anyone at all really - both of their trusts have bottomed out#But how much could he reasonably care for him in that state? When he's still being actively haunted and most importantly - Not Max#He needs helps he needs support he needs to sleep and shower but a second with his eyes off Max and - then what? He'll immolate from fear#It's hard to imagine him crying but pushed to this extreme? To the thought of losing Max utterly and completely? Hhhhh#I do also just love him being possessive even outside of how terrible the situation is - he's always had his glimpses but this situation#Brings out the worst in him <3 In terrible ways#Really his method is just setting ''Max'' up nearby and prompting him over the sound of the shower like that's not nerve-wracking at all#Like he already doesn't answer half the time if that#As for the mini fic I was really interested in Dex's line about indulging ''Max's'' delusions#Apart from the fact that they're not delusions - not that anyone believes him outside of the Institute - what it means to indulge is weird#I saw one example of how to handle delusions that stuck with me - how not to deny them outright while also not reinforcing them#Since it's not actually helpful to be told ''That isn't Really happening to you'' when to you - to ZEX - it really is! How invalidating#And so rather to take the approach of ''I don't see/feel/hear what you are - I can't find any evidence of it myself'' and extrapolating#Dex taking the approach of ''What reality are you experiencing right now?'' and trying to build from there!#Unfortunately ZEX has already been treated like....well like all that - he's not in the mood for games even well-intentioned ones#He /knows/ he's in a human body. He can feel that and see that and understands that. It doesn't change who - what he /is/#The idea of a completely broken ZEX is so sad to me :( He's so strong and prideful and vivacious - Max really is another him </3#It's not the same but he was saved from death! To fall into torture... But even despite that I want to see him succeed! As much as he can#Even in that small and shaking way I want to see him be hateful and spiteful - angry. Powerful <3 Fighting ♥
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cordeliawhohung · 4 months
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People are so fucking outrageous you take some time for yourself that you told us you were taking and now they're up in your asks demanding stuff tell them to pay you for it, sincerely someone who doesn't mind waiting for whatever you post
on god i literally spent the last few days driving hours on end and just got back yesterday, today is my first full day back home. and i've been traveling out of town for the outreach clinic i have to work at the next few weeks, and even then i've still been writing allskdjf
lmfao i don't want to shit on that anon too much, and i'm def not trying to be rude or anything, but i'm also going to hijack your ask real quick to address stuff since i do have quite a few new followers.
while some users might not mind questions regarding when someone is updating/if they have anything planned for an ongoing series, and things like that, i specifically have it in my rules to please not do that, which is why i got a little short with them even though they arguably weren't being rude or malicious (unlike a few anons in the past have when asking things like that). this one is especially annoying because it's been literally eight days since i last updated for that, and i have other series i've been working on! like even though i'm not posting for it, i've still written a couple thousand words for pet!au, and i just finished a chapter for in limbo i'll have up for early access here in a bit, and then on tumblr probably tomorrow or wednesday.
but mostly, the reason why i specifically request that people don't ask if i have plans/when i'm updating/if i'm updating something is because i literally have an irl life. i've been pretty open recently about how i've been traveling and the work i've been doing, it's not a secret or anything lmao. it just feels... tone deaf, you know? like you come into my inbox not talking about the work, or what you like about it, or otherwise engaging with it, but just to ask if i'm giving you more, like i didn't just do that a week ago. hell, even if it's been months or years that's still rude imo because if you like something enough, then you'd probably be doing more than just asking for more, ya know? at least that's how it comes across to me. and like i said before, some people really don't care, which is why i made sure to specify it in my rules, because i do care. it ruins my mood to write and create because then it feels like a chore and people are waiting on me just to consume it and then beg for more rather than tell me what they actually enjoyed about the work lmao.
anyway, no hard feelings against that anon at all, i'm sure they didn't mean anything by it, so please don't show them any hate or anything. but just use this as a reminder to read the rules of the blogs you interact with please. or at least don't be surprised when you do something that irks them and then they're annoyed at you because of it lmao.
sorry about the rant in the tags
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