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abaddown · 2 months

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Breakup

OK, OK, I'm going to go home and break up with her. But what do I tell her? "I deserve better." Jesus, no, definitely not that. Even if that's true, only women say that. "You deserve more." Now, that's pretty good. But she's gonna start to get all unintelligent and tell me I'm good just the way I am. That's the way it is. Haha. "I want to live." That'll take the edge off. I might as well say I want to fuck half of Europe. Let's see. "I think we should be apart now so we can be together later." That's not bad, but I don't want to be together later. I'd spare you the hysterics, but I'd be constantly harassed about when that later was. "I'm in love with someone." That seems pretty definitive, but she'd want to know who the bitch was, and it would start a never-ending interrogation about where I met her, when we met, was the sex good, do I regret it, did I think about her, why I didn't tell her, blah blah blah blah... "I cheated on you." Same thing. Oh God, the easiest thing would be to just disappear without a word, never pick up the phone, never answer her texts again. Okay, it's a little bit of a chick thing. "I don't want kids yet." And then she says, "Neither did she. "I want a baby now." She'll end up saying she does too. "I need to focus on my career now." I'm sure her mothering side would come out and assure me that she'll be supportive, patient, that I can build my career, that she's there for me and won't abandon me in the hardest times. Too bad. Wait a minute! I should make her want to break up. Then how much unnecessary crying and screaming would be saved. I'd pretend a little bit, "Oh, no." and then that's it, hat, coat, goodbye. But it would be too long a process to wait. "Something's wrong, this isn't working." I can hear her saying, "But what, tell me what's wrong, I'll change, just tell me what I can do differently! I know you love me, it's just a moment of desperation, believe me, we can work it out!" No, we can't, I don't want to. Okay, I've got a big mouth now, but I actually loved her and I still love her. Just not the way it should be. Like she did me. But I don't want to hurt her. She's a sweet girl. If I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't love you the way I should and the way you deserve. I'm sorry.", you know what? She'd start to tear herself up, eat her insides out, cry for weeks and look for reasons why she'd gone wrong. I don't want to hurt you. That feeling either comes or it doesn't. Or it comes and then it goes. I'm gone, what do I do?

If you break up with a woman, why does she always, at all costs, try to convince you that you're stupid and don't feel what you feel? I can just decide if I want to be with someone or not. Women, I swear, think that we men are so mentally retarded that we don't recognize when we really love someone. God, how many times have I listened to break ups and say "I know you love me. Deep down, you love me so much, you just don't realize it. You're really going to regret this." It's simply impossible to break up cleanly, without scandal. What do you have to say to that? Fuck, is it that late? Look, she's calling again, asking where I am, what I'm doing, when I'll be home. I'm gonna have to talk to her and break up with her. I'm gonna go. I'll call you later.

- Hey, girl, I'm home. What's all this stuff, you going on a trip?

- No. I'm moving.

- You're moving? Where are you going? Why are you going away?

- Out. You know why. I can't do this. Listen, I think we should cut this short. I don't know about you, but I haven't been happy in this relationship for a long time, and I don't think you have either. I think the best thing we can do is just quietly accept that this is the way it is and break up. We have no reason to be angry with each other, so we can separate from each other peacefully. I've got some stuff left here, and I'll pick it up sometime.

- But hey, wait a minute. Just like that? Are you seeing anyone? What's the matter? You want to talk about it or work it out? You're just gonna throw everything away? I don't get it. Is it me? But I love you. Let's talk about it. Let’s fix it!

- Forgive me, but I don't love you the way I should and the way you deserve. I'm sorry..

***

Then she walked out of the apartment. And I've never felt more in love with any woman in my life than I did with her, staring at the closed door.

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harryforvogue · 7 months

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hi this is the first date fic that i deleted out of hatred about two months ago. sorry for that! i won't write a part 2 but due to demands, i'm reposting this. fank u <3 harry and yasmine of course.

***

“I want to take you out,” Harry says while clearing the dishes.

Yasmine looks up at him, alarmed. “I haven't wronged you that much, I’d argue.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “No. Out. On a proper date.”

“Oh.” Yasmine frowns. “You don’t have to.”

He puts the dishes into the sink, mentally vowing to do them before they go to sleep. Or just him, if Yasmine doesn’t want to stay over in his room for a second night in a row. He’ll try his hardest to convince her anyways. He’s a master at persuasion, but his girlfriend is also as stubborn as a fucking rock.

“Why not?” He returns to her on the couch, throwing an arm over the back. “You really don’t think I’m romantic? I’ll let you know that I’m great at all that stuff. And when finals begin, we’ll get too busy with grading and studying so I think it’s a great time to do that now.”

Yasmine looks torn, which really perplexes him. “Are you so worried about being seen with me, Yasmine?” he jokes.

“No,” she answers slowly. Too slowly. She looks back at the TV. “It’s just that I haven’t been on a real date like that before.”

“Poor baby. But I haven’t even told you what we're going to do. You might hate the idea.”

“The fact that you called it a real date tells me all I need to know.”

He smiles, the back of his hand brushing against her shoulder. “You’ve never been on something called a real date?”

“I don’t think so.”

She looks so cute, frowning like that. He can’t help it. He leans over and kisses her head. She scowls at him. He doesn’t mind a single bit.

Yasmine doesn’t pull away though. After staring him down with her dark, intimidating eyes, she leans in and rests her head on his shoulder. “Fine. We can go on a date.”

“Don’t make it sound like it’s a death sentence, Yasmine.”

“It depends on where you’ll take me.”

He leans his head on hers. “We’ve never gone to a good restaurant and had overly expensive yet mediocre food? Never went out for dessert either and swapped food. That’s what they do in romance movies.”

Yasmine takes his hand and puts it in her lap She squeezes her fingers around his before beginning to play with his rings. “And how many, on average, romance movies do you usually watch, Harry?”

“Oh plenty. I take notes too.”

“You’ve gotta let me see them sometime.”

He says, “No way. Take your own notes.”

“I don’t watch romance movies. Not as much as you apparently.”

He shrugs. “I’m a man with taste, what can I say? Maybe if you switched out a horror movie with a romance once in a while, you would–”

Yasmine shudders. “I’d never do that.”

“I seriously don’t understand how you don’t have nightmares. The last movie we watched, we literally saw someone get sliced in half.”

“And it was wonderful.”

He gives her a look. “Have you considered therapy?”

“Even more therapy? Give me a break.”

Harry’s arm is completely around her now. She’s left her hair out so it brushes against his cheek. He doesn’t mind that either, enjoying the feel of her soft strands. She usually keeps her hair in ponytails or buns, so he takes advantage and runs his fingers through it.

For some reason, Yasmine immediately feels the need to explain herself. “When I showered this morning, I didn’t dry it so I couldn't put it up.”

Harry shakes his head. “I love when it’s down.”

To this, Yasmine scowls again. “Stop.”

“I can’t stop.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He bites his inner cheek to avoid smiling. “I’m looking at you how I always do.” His fingers trail down, ghosting over her jaw. “Can you give me a kiss?”

Apparently not only has she never been on a real date, but she’s also never been with someone who shows her affection so outwardly. When she gets embarrassed, her defenses immediately go up, hence the blush currently spreading across her cheeks.

“No.”

“No?” He tilts his head. “Please?”

“No.” She looks away. “Go away actually.”

Harry laughs softly, wrapping his other arm around her too. He lifts her up into his lap and tightens his hold, making sure she can’t get away. Yasmine doesn’t exactly push him away, but doesn’t look at him either.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, kissing her head again. “We’re dating. I’m allowed to–”

“You say things like that,” Yasmine interrupts, her face hot to the touch, “out of nowhere. It catches me off guard.”

He laughs again. “Okay. Sorry. I will give you warnings before I say something similar.”

“Good.”

“Yasmine.”

She begrudgingly turns her head. “What?”

“I am going to say something very ridiculously romantic and cheesy. Please brace yourself.”

Her jaw tightens. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Can I say it? Please, oh please?”

She crosses her arms. “Go ahead,” she mutters.

“I think,” he says quietly, twirling her hair between his fingers, “that you are the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. And I’d really really like for you to kiss me.”

Yasmine’s face is so red, Harry wants to laugh once more, but he holds back, watching the words settle around in her head. “I hate you,” she whispers, her hands balled into fists. “You just say things.”

“I do say things,” he whispers back. “Because I want you to know precisely how I feel. I reckon one of us should be good at communication.”

“I am wonderful at communicating!”

“Oh yeah?”

Her lips thin. “Don’t oh yeah me.”

“Does it bother you? Poor baby.”

Yasmine’s eyes are narrowed. She stares at him menacingly for a full 3 seconds before her fingers slide into his hair, and she kisses him so deeply, he’s pushed back into the sofa. His grip tightens around her waist, a smile curling onto his lips. She may not be good at communicating verbally, but her body language gives it all away. She’s just as infatuated as he is. Harry’s other hand holds the back of her head. Fuck, he thinks to himself when she slides her hands down and grabs his collar, pushing herself further into his lap. She pulls away to steal a quick breath and then kisses him again. This woman.

Harry tilts his head back and lets her adjust herself on his thighs, her knees on either side of his hips. It seems like they always fall into this position whenever one of them is over and the other’s place, and if they’re together, he’d very much rather be doing this. No wonder they haven’t gone on a “real date” when this is all they do.

Yasmine pulls off of him, her eyes a bit glazed over but the frown still intact. It’s honestly impressive how dedicated she is to being upset with him. He cups her face. “You like me so bad.”

“I don’t!” she answers breathlessly.

“Are you refusing to go on a date with me because we can’t be doing this in public? Trust me, when I get you home, we’ll do this and so much more.”

She pinches his earlobe. “That’s not it.”

“I’d love to know what it really is then.”

Yasmine looks away, removing her hands from his collar, tucking them into her lap. She sighs and stays silent for some time while gathering her thoughts. Harry only watches her, too mesmerized by the expressions on her face before she speaks.

“I don’t know what to do on a date.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. “What to…do?”

“Yeah,” she grumbles. “How to be normal.”

“Well, I can pick the first place to go. I actually had something in mind. Something we’d both like.”

She sighs again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that dates are awkward and so far we haven’t been like that so I don’t want it to sneak up on us.”

Harry smiles. “Yasmine, first dates are definitely awkward. But we’ve been together for two months now. I don’t think there’s any weirdness between us or you wouldn’t be sitting in my lap right now.”

As expected, she immediately goes to roll away. He snickers and holds her down.

“Besides,” Harry says. “I think we get along very well. I just want to treat you to something nice. I didn’t think it would take this amount of convincing just to get you to go to dinner with me.”

“We’ve had dinner together.”

“I most certainly don’t hope you mean at the dining hall.”

“No…” She very clearly does.

He gathers her up in his arms. “Dinner this weekend then.”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me?”

“I tried that. Now I’m ordering you.” He kisses her softly. “You will have dinner with me this weekend or else.”

She frowns. “Or else what?”

“Or else I will make you watch my favorite movie with me.”

She blinks.

“Of the Star Wars variety,” he finishes.

“No!”

“Yes!”

She starts wiggling out of his hold so he lets her go. She’s on her feet. “You can’t make me!”

“Oh I can and I will.” He shrugs. “Wear something fancy, by way. I’m paying so all you have to do, my frightening girl, is show up and provide me with your company. It won’t be that bad.” He reaches for her hand. “Come on. I know you want to go out with me. I can tell.”

She doesn’t deny it this time. He’s mentioned the date so many times, so she's probably accustomed to the idea now. When she answers, it’s a nod, and when she tells him it’s late and she needs to go back, Harry tugs on her hand until she falls against him and says, “Wanna stay?”

(Yasmine’s glad he asked because there’s no chance in hell she’d straight up give him the satisfaction of asking him.)

***

At night, they’re cuddling in his bed when Yasmine suddenly turns her lamp on and moves to face him. He’s had his face buried in her hair, arms around her tight from behind, ankles crossed with hers. His eyes open when she turns, adjusting his hold.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hey back.”

“Are you sleeping?”

“I’m answering, so I guess not.”

“Hmm.” She searches blindly for his hand. He laces their fingers together. “When you say dress fancy, what does that mean? I don’t think I have fancy clothes.”

He closes his eyes. “You remember that one dress you wore a while back? The one that kind had a corset sort of middle?”

The silence that follows is so deafening, Harry opens his eyes to check if she’s fallen asleep. Instead, she’s staring at him with a weird look.

“What?” he murmurs.

“I only own one corset dress. The black one?”

“Mhm,” Harry says. “That one. The one with the sleeves that kept falling down your shoulders. So pretty.”

“I wore it a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“How the hell do you remember that?”

He smiles. “Remember everything about you.”

“You didn’t even know me then.”

Harry hugs her. “I’ve always known you, Yasmine. You just never looked at me.”

“Oh I did plenty of looking.”

“Looking not ogling.”

“I don’t ogle!”

“Sure. But yes, wear that. With those black heels boots you wear with your dress pants for seminars. And leave your hair out.”

“You have so many demands.”

“Don’t let them fool you,” he murmurs. “I like you just as much in sweatpants.” Yasmine’s silent again. Harry chuckles. “Too much?”

“You are always too much,” she whispers. Despite her words, she snuggles in closer. He kisses her forehead.

Yasmine doesn’t ask him any more questions. She falls asleep against him, still holding his hand.

***

The day of the date comes, and Harry’s gone all out. Currently, he’s standing by her door, bouncing on his heels with anticipation.

He doesn’t even have the time to compliment her outfit and her beautiful hair. Yasmine looks at him and then the flowers in his hand, and then promptly shuts the door in his face. Harry leans against the frame and laughs quietly. “Oh come on! I couldn’t resist it.”

“No.”

“We don’t have to take them with us.” He reaches for the door handle, stepping into her apartment. “I just wanted to see that look on your face.”

He holds the flowers out to her, looking at her pointedly. “Go on. Take them.”

She slowly wraps her hands around the stems and takes them. As expected, her face is flushed with embarrassment. “Thanks,” she whispers.

“You look beautiful,” he continues, sweeping her into his arms. “The dress is just how I remembered.”

Yasmine pulls the dress down a bit. “A little short though.”

“Oh I know.”

“Of course you do.”

Harry watches her set the flowers neatly on her kitchen counter. She turns to him. “You look great too.”

“I know.” Harry’s gone for a more casual look with a black shirt, jeans, and a jacket. He has a hand tucked into his pocket, and he can tell just from how she’s looking at him that he looks damn well better than just “great.”

He holds a hand out. “Are you ready for a wonderful night with just me and you?”

She takes his hand and lets him tug her close. “Yes, however, I’ve thought a lot about it and I can’t agree with you paying for it all.”

“No, Yasmine. This is a real date.”

“I mean it.”

“I mean it too.” He holds her chin. “I really am.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yasmine,” he murmurs. “No.” He bends down to kiss her gently. “Now let's go. We’ve got reservations and I’ve got an Uber waiting downstairs.”

“Oh I can–”

“Which has already been paid for.”

She’s staring dagger at him when he smiles, pulls away, and begins to lead her out the door. When she’s finished locking up, he takes her hand, and starts to walk to the elevator.

“It’s going to be a good night,” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I promise.”

#i don't remember what i hated so much about it #but i'm not gonna reread it to find out #harry and yasmine #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles x woc

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urperfectcinnamonroll07 · 2 months

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Hi, are your requests open? If not, ignore this please, but I would really, really like a chishiya x reader fluff where readers love language is "nah I'll do it for you" but not like grand gestures, just random things. Kinda like the peeling an orange thing, or going downstairs to get a snack or running a bath after a hard day. But like, it goes both ways, reader doing stuff for chishiya and vice versa. Also, could it be post borderlands where they remember everything? Feel free to change anything or don't do it at all, I wouldn't mind. Also, I haven't ever actually requested with my real username, so I don't know if it would notify me if you post with this, but can you @ me? Bye and I really enjoy your writing!!!

I'll Do It!

requested?: yes pairing(s): shuntarō chishiya x gn!reader genre: fluff, angst if you squint warning(s): mentions of nightmares, fluff, mentions of sleeping pills, mentions of very poor mental health, chishiya being sweet towards reader (shock horror gasp), mentions of trouble sleeping, mentions of eating disorder summary: 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 word count: 1k a/n: ofc you can! my requests are practically always open and i do try my hardest to get through them, so sorry if this is late lol. also, think this is so cute and you have a great idea. just to add, can somone request something for bang chan please lmao, i wanna write for him but all my ideas are literally gone lmao. make sure to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! (P.s so sorry this took a while, ive been busy recently lol) tags: @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer

you and chishiya did absolutely everything for eachother. you both remembered the borderlands, which was a downside for the both of you, but you did both get over it. when chishiya went back to work, a lot changed.

it was almost as though he was never around, and he either worked so late that you were already asleep, or he would just crash when he got home. but of course, on the rare occasions he was working from home, you would bring him snacks and keep him company while he did so.

you had am office in your house that you had both decorated with comfy sofas, so you would sit and scroll through your phone while he worked, occasionally getting up to get a snack or a drink and bringing something back for him. you would also stand behind him sometimes and ask what he was doing, resulting in you being confused with the big fancy doctor words your boyfriend used in order to explain, so you ended up just sitting back down and pretending to understand (which he knew you wouldn't, and just chuckled anyways).

of course, you worked aswell, which also resulted in chishiya doing things for you. your work was mainly based at home, but you would have to go out and about to the office and do stuff sometimes. if it was a particularly stressful day, chishiya would run you a bath for after you finished work, and if you were working in the seperate office you had in your home, he would peep his head around the door and ask if you needed anything. if chishiya knew that you hadn't eaten anything yet, and you had said no to him asking if you needed anything, he would go get you a snack nontheless.

even though you both led very busy lives with your work, you also made time to cuddle in bed on a night, which took chishiya a while to get used to, but it was definately worth it.

there also lead to a problem with sleeping. sometimes one of you would have a nightmare and unintentionally wake the other, resulting in the other holding the other in their arms while the other calmed down and went back to sleep. more times than others, chishiya wouldn't wake you up when he had a nightmare, because he was a silent sleeper. but you, however, did wake him up since you were a quiet sleeper, but a one that moved around quite a lot. so you thrashed around quite a lot, with the occasional mutter of "no" or sometimes even you screamed.

the first time this did happen, however, chishiya thought there was an intruder, so he ultimately went into panic mode aswell, jumping awake and turning the light on, before realising it was just a nightmare you were having. he managed to wake you up as softly as he could, holding you in his arms as he whispered to you that everything would just about be alright. you believed him, well, almost.

the time he woke you up, he was just flinching and twitching in his sleep, and you woke him up. chishiya being chishiya, though, pretended nothing was wrong, but didn't say no to you holding him until he wemt back to sleep.

you almost believed that everything would be alright, because when your mental health started to slowly get worse, so did the nightmares. chishiya did notice you slowly started to eat less, and also sleep less, but he thought you would manage to get yourself back up on your feet. only when you started to get a lot worse, did he start to intervene.

it started off slow, just small snacks, before it turned into small meals, then bigger meals, then you were eating properly again. but that didn't change your sleeping. even though your eating patterns were improving, your nightmares were still getting worse.

almost every night you woke up screaming and crying, but even the nights you didn't, you would still be up throughout the night. chishiya was starting to get worried, even though he didn't show it that much, he worried.

after a while, you got a cat, aswell as sleeping pills perscribed from your doctor boyfriend himself. he thought the cat would help with anxiety, and the pills with sleeping. and they did, for a while at least. as much as chishiya loved you, he couldn't keep waking up due to your screams and nightmares.

the pills worked for around a month, before you started to get worse again. the pills weren't working as much as they used to and you were waking up a lot more. you had both tried everything, from pills to pillow mist, nothing was working.

your cat, did hep with bits of anxiety when you had the occasional anxiety or panic attack. but other than that, you were practically on your own. chishiya did help, but he wasn't there all the time. he did advise you to go get therapy, but even if you did, nobody would believe you other than the man l who suggested it himself.

at this point, you were barely sleeping. you would try not to wake chishiya, but whenever you were awake, so was he. it was almost as though he just knew you would be awake.

this one particular night, you had a worse nightmare, you were thrashing around all night and chishiya was awake. it was only when the screams started that he woke you up, you were hitting his chest in protest until you realised it was him.

"sh, sh, sh" he says, bringing your sobbing frame into his arms, your face soaking his night shirt with your tears. "you're okay, i'm here, everything is okay" he whispers, stroking your hair and leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

your sobs eventually died down, and chishiya just about thought you were asleep until you whispered.

"i'm sorry" you whispered into his chest.

"what for?" he says, cupping your cheeks in his hands and making you move your head so you were looking at him.

"keeping you awake every night" you whisper back.

"honey, it's fine, as long as you're okay" he says, bringing you back into his chest.

"i love you" you mutter, and you just about hear him say it back before sleep overcame you.

#alice in borderland #fluff #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya angst #chishiya fluff

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mcflymemes · 1 year

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SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the 2018 film

i'm right here!

it's been nice talking to you.

are you mad at me? i feel like you're mad at me.

can you fight them all off at once?

i know what it looks like, but... here's the good news.

where is that wind coming from? we're in a basement.

i never thought i'd be able to do any of this stuff.

that's all, folks.

you're looking at him.

i can't do it on command.

one thing i know for sure: don't do it like me. do it like you.

i know you snuck out last night.

i wasn't there for you when you needed me.

it's rude to point.

get rid of the body.

you wanna hear me say it.

okay, i'm kinda freaking out right now.

i was there when it happened.

i haven't actually fought anyone.

you always have to call me out?

you're late again.

this is my fault.

i wanted you to look up to me.

i'm not the only one.

you're being very rude!

can you close off your feelings so you don't get crippled by the moral ambiguity of your violent actions?

look at you! look what you did there!

what's going on with your body?

i was gone for less than two hours. what happened?

you got a minute?

let's start at the beginning, one last time.

it's just really frustrating and that bums me out.

this could literally not get any weirder.

why aren't you dead?

you don't look so hot, either.

it's nice to see you again.

don't you dare finish that sentence! don't do it!

it's a leap of faith. that's all it is, a leap of faith.

we were friends, you know.

a little text might have been nice.

can you be strong?

can i return it if it doesn't fit?

they're counting on me.

that's not how it goes.

i think you know the rest.

where do you want to go first?

above all, no matter how many times you get hit, can you get back up?

we've all been there.

how dare you point at me.

you're a bit late.

the hardest thing about this job is you can't always save everybody.

are you a zombie?

i just washed my hands. that's why they're wet.

what did you say your name is?

who the heck are you?

i don't wanna freak anyone out...

i saved a bunch of people.

when will i know i'm ready?

wow. that was really just a guess.

let's do this one last time, yeah?

when i feel alone, like no one understands what i'm going through, i remember my friends who get it.

what a pig.

can't be everywhere at once.

you like my new toy?

you're gonna love this.

is this all you got?

i like your haircut.

i couldn't save my best friend.

don't get too excited.

so we're just... gonna roll the dice on this?

i need you to come with me.

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kiss4chuu · 1 year

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Can you do something fluffy with Nico hischier with reader?

Day Off | Nico Hischier

Pairing: Nico Hischier x GN Reader

Warnings: N/A

Note: I haven't written in ages, so this is honestly just me dusting off lmaooo

A small yawn escaped you as your eyes slowly opened, the morning sun immediately beaming at you. You groaned lightly and turned away from the window; towards your side table. That was when you saw it.

The alarm clock read 9:00 am.

Usually, it wouldn’t be a big deal. You slept in, so what? But there was one issue, and that was your boyfriend, Nico. You and Nico had been together for six months. And during those six months, you both developed a routine.

1. Nico wakes up before the sun rises to shower, which wakes you up, even though he tries his hardest not to.

2. Nico gets out of the shower, gets dressed, and collects all his hockey stuff for practice.

3. Nico kisses you goodbye and thinks of any reputable excuse to stay home with you. He doesn’t find one, and you make him leave.

That’s how every day of the season would go. Nico played for the New Jersey Devils; he was even the captain. He was incredible at what he did, but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him every second he was gone. But seeing him play, either in person or on TV, and seeing how happy he was, was enough to keep you from losing your mind.

But none of that happened this morning. Nico didn’t wake up before the sun rose, he didn’t get his hockey equipment together, and he didn’t kiss you goodbye. He was still sound asleep. His brown hair was dishevelled from his pillow as it cascaded down his face until it reached around his jawline. The early morning sunlight beamed down onto his face, but it didn’t bother him. Instead, it made him look like an angel sent down from God himself.

You had to break yourself free of your Nico-induced trance. You knew Nico was late, very late. Even though you hated to wake him, especially when he looked this perfect, you didn’t want him to get into trouble.

Reluctantly, you leaned over to him and lightly shook his shoulder. “Nico, Nic.” You mumbled to him.

He stirred slightly, a quiet groan escaping him. But he didn’t wake up. You huffed and shook him again, this time a bit harder. “Nico, come on, baby.” You pleaded, “You’re so, so late.”

He finally stirred, his tired eyes slowly opening. If he weren’t so late, you would’ve just told him to go back to sleep. “Late for what?” He asked in that deep, morning voice that gave you butterflies every time.

“Practice, baby. You’re late for practice, very late.” You explained, “Even Jack’s probably there– that means you’re very late.”

Suddenly, Nico began to chuckle. It was one of those laughs that showed his perfect teeth and pretty smile. But you could only stare at him as if he had three heads.

“What are you laughing about?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. Nico finally stopped laughing and looked over at you.

“Did you forget?” Asked Nico, providing no other context but that. It just further confused you.

“Forget… forget what, exactly?” You questioned.

“I told you a few days ago; we have today off.” Nico explained, “Remember? You said we’d sleep in and watch Netflix all day?”

You were completely confused. You thought back to the last few days. The conversation Nico was talking about never came to mind. “Why can’t I remember you telling me that?”

Nico shrugged. “You were working hard on some school assignment. You probably didn’t hear me, honey.”

Maybe he did tell you. You had been working extremely hard since the end of the semester was coming up. The deadlines you had to meet were up to your ears. Honestly, you couldn’t recall many conversations you had with anyone recently.

“Whether or not you remember isn’t important.” Nico decided, “What’s important is that you and I spend the day resting.”

Something about how he said it and the look on his face told you that he wasn’t being honest. “Nico. Did you have something to do with this?”

He attempted to hide his smile but failed. “Maybe I did.”

“Nico.” You pressured him to continue.

He sighed. “Okay, I did. I called a day off; everyone needed one.” He explained, “But I mainly did it for you.”

You gave him a confused look. For you? Why would he do that? You missed him a lot when he was gone, but that was no reason to miss practice. “Why?”

“You’ve been under a lot of pressure recently with school.” Nico explained, “I see you at the table before I go to bed and when I wake up, you’re still there. You need a break, darling.”

You reached over and lightly played with the ends of Nico’s hair. “How did I end up with somebody so perfect?” You mumbled.

Nico grinned and pulled you closer to him. “I should be asking you that.”

He lightly kissed your forehead, brushing your hair away from your face. Your eyes slowly closed, getting comfortable in his arms. You snuggled in close to him, wanting him as close as he could possibly be.

“Rest, my love.” Nico whispered to you.

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washy0uaway · 8 months

Text

Kiss City Pt. 3

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader Word Count: 1.6k Chapter Summary: Sweet baby fluffy Frankie watches over you as you get to know each other. Series Summary: The thing you expected least on what you swore was a day set out to be cursed by the universe, was Frankie. A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get another part up, and didn't really intend for this to be such a slow burn lol. Life has been, well.. life. Absolutely slammed at work and fighting some dumb health stuff, but I plan to carve more time out for these two more regularly. Cathartic for me tbh <3 Also a bonus that people have been enjoying this - thank you so much for sharing/liking/following! Series Masterlist | Part 2

*I'M ALSO STARTING A TAG LIST!* I haven't kept track of anyone that's already asked, but will going forward! Respond to a post or shoot me a message if you'd like to be added :) xx

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After a short walk back to Frankie's truck (where he somehow managed to hold every door open for you without dropping your hand), you've agreed on tacos for dinner. Finding yourself in his passenger seat again, you glance at the clock to notice it's not even 1pm - hours until a suitable dinner time you think to yourself.

After he closes the drivers side door and starts the truck, he once again hands you his phone for you to enter your home address this time and you're off (Fleetwood Mac now playing over the stereo).

You fall into a comfortable silence the first few minutes, and Frankie thinks he's subtle as he steals glances at you each time he looks to take a turn or check his mirror. Not subtle at all, but cute nonetheless.

"Can I ask you a question?" he finally breaks the silence first. "Of course" you offer. "How did you know I'm not a creep? Back in the lobby, I said I'm not a creep and you said, 'I know,'"

Your laugh is the hardest he's heard yet, and though he's smiling next to you, he asks again.

"I'm serious!" he half jokingly exclaims. "I'm sorry, that's just not the question I was expecting. I don't know, you..." your voice trails off as you've looked up at him and your gazes lock again, now stopped at a red light. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you offer him a sweet, slight smile.

"You just seem like a good person," you continue and he almost scoffs. "Now I'M serious!" you insist, "I have to admit I was pretty pissed before I met you earlier, but you've gone out of your way to make up for it and make sure I'm okay - you've taken care of me."

He shrugs and turns back to focus on the road as the light turns green and tries to play it off. "Can't have you dyin' on me is all, wouldn't look good on my record you know?"

"Of course," you agree. "Can't have me dyin' on you."

The remainder of the drive is pretty quiet, and when you pull into your driveway and unbuckle your seat belt, Frankie is somehow already out of the truck and rushing to open your door for you. You try to protest and insist that you're not entirely useless, and he tells you the same thing he told you as he carried you inside your office building.

"Maybe I want to."

You can't argue with that, so instead take his hand as he helps you out of the truck. You only let go to dig in your cluttered tote bag for your keys. After unlocking the door and letting him follow behind you, you drop your bag and keys to immediately take your shoes off and let out a long sigh.

"How ya doing over there, champ?" Frankie asks as he closes your front door behind him.

"Honestly, exhausted. I don't really know what the plan for the afternoon is but I could use some serious couch time. We could put on a movie?"

"That sounds great, and probably exactly what you need right now."

You point him in the direction of your living room and explain you're going to throw on some sweats and grab you both something to drink, telling him to "Make yourself comfortable."

... which he definitely hasn't done when you walk into your living room, setting two glasses of water on the coffee table. His back is to you as he studies your walls intently. Photos of you as a kid (with people he imagines would be sisters or cousins), posters from concerts, bizarre art prints, all adorn your walls. But your bookcase is what he zeroes in on, as he's completely oblivious to the fact that you're making yourself comfortable on your couch behind him.

There's a range from classics like Dracula or Pride & Prejudice, to biographies of people he's never even heard of, then histories of music genres, and more - all sorted alphabetically in an almost overflowing book shelf.

A meow breaks his focus and he turns to see you sitting cross legged on your couch in lounge shorts and a comfy crop top as your cat, Beans, hops up to join you.

"Having fun?" you ask, after introducing your pet. "Yeah, sorry, you .. you uh, can tell a lot about a person by their books, is all." "Yeah?" you prod, "what did you learn about me?"

You'd propped an elbow on your bare knee, resting your chin on your fist looking up at him, wide eyed and almost sultry. This time, its your gaze that almost melts him, and he has to force his jaw shut before continuing the conversation.

"Well, you obviously read a lot," in a few steps he's sitting down next to you, Beans on your opposite side.

"Which I like in a person," he continues. "But most of your books are about things I know nothing about. I mean, an auto biography of J.M. Barrie? Who the fuck is J.M. Barrie?"

Your laugh startles Beans, who hops off the couch and saunters off in search of his food dish. Frankie makes a mental note that he wants to do that more often - make you laugh.

"He wrote Peter Pan, Frankie! You've never heard of him?" "Okay, don't hate me, I fully would have guessed that Walt Disney wrote Peter Pan."

You tsk and playfully shake your head, "Maybe you need to borrow the book then," giving him a side eye that nearly knocks him out.

"Gladly," he agrees, and you reach for the remote to put on a movie.

"What are you in the mood for?" you ask as you mindlessly start scrolling through streaming apps.

"Whatever you want, I'm just here to keep you company. What's your go-to comfort movie?" he suggests, and a near devious grin spreads across your face.

Knowing already exactly which app to find it on, you pull up the first, original Nightmare on Elm Street.

"THIS is your comfort movie?" He shifts his legs and body toward you in disbelief, pointing at the screen.

"Yup." you smack your lips as you say it, smiling up at him with pride. "Fall asleep to it most nights."

"You fall asleep to Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Sure do! Hey, you're the one that told me to put it on."

A chuckle escapes him as he settles into the couch, draping his arm to rest loosely on the top of the couch behind you.

"I'm not complaining, you're just full of surprises, hermosa." You blush at the term, pressing play on the movie. "I like it though," he admits, now focusing on the TV in front of him.

"Yeah, yeah, just watch the movie, Morales." You kid, as you drape the blanket that had followed you to the couch over both of your legs.

Frankie decides a few minutes in, he'd rather watch you watch the movie. You're animated, talking along with the lines as characters say them, having clearly seen it countless times.

Stealing gazes at you periodically, he brings his arm resting on the couch down into his lap. He doesn't trust himself to not fully wrap his arm around you, and though he doesn't think he's misreading you, doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

After letting out a long yawn though, you sleepily lean over and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes heavy.

He doesn't turn his head to look down, but you feel his eyes on your sleepy face.

"Is this okay?" you ask, lazily turning your head and looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

"Of course," he promises, face now only inches from yours.

You might have been nervous if you weren't so exhausted, but you quickly drift to sleep.

If you knew he was sitting next to trying not to freak out, biting his knuckles, you definitely would have been nervous. You began leaning more of your weight onto him as you fell into a deeper sleep and before he knew it, you were curled up at his side with your head in his lap and his arm draped over your waist.

Time passed quickly and it was safe to say, Frankie was focusing on anything but the movie. The credits began to roll and he hadn't even noticed until you started to slowly blink your eyes open.

"Is it over already?" your sleep stained voice asked, shifting on the couch to look up, your head still in his lap.

"Yeah, I guess it is." Frankie reached down to brush a stray hair out of your face and the look in his eyes made your heart jump.

He'd softened quite a bit over the short time you'd known him, but this look was different. Endearing, like he was in awe of you.

You had leaned your head into his hand as he brushed the hair out of your face and made eye contact with him.

The look you shared was telling - like you had an entire conversation in a glance. Both of you had agreed with this look, "you fascinate me, I can't believe I met you today," and "there's no where else I'd rather be than on this couch with you, and it scares me shitless how attracted I am to you already." All unspoken, but mutually understood, somehow.

You laid for a moment, head in his lap, cradled by his hand, not breaking eye contact.

"You wanna watch the second one?" you ask, gaze and tone still serious.

He really laughs this time, and you're grinning when he looks back down.

"Sure I do, sweetheart." Knowing goddamn well he'll still be watching you instead, he grabs the remote.

#frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #fanfic #triple frontier fanfic #francisco catfish morales

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avelera · 1 year

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A few thoughts on writerly endurance, word count, how to increase it and why you might want to

So over the last few months I've had, bar none, the highest word count I've ever produced as a writer over the course of (*checks watch*) 23 years of writing, on and off. This was after a pretty long dry spell brought on, most likely, from stress from current events and playing way too much Sims 4.

No one is more shocked by this than me. Mostly the word count lately has been me just trying to outrun the Doubts that set in if I pause for too long. Let's hope I can stay ahead, because I feel like garbage when I haven't written in a long time. Mostly, I just thank Calliope every day where I've got something to write and the urge doesn't leave me.

But this crazy-ass word count has led to a few people commenting on it so I want to give some scattered, not exactly linear tips on how to reach a longer word count and why you might want to do so as a writer.

1 ) Learning to write more is, in my mind, a matter of endurance with an almost 1-to-1 correlation with the sort of training one would do to become a long distance runner. No one is born with the ability. It takes practice. Expecting to be able to do it without practice is as ridiculous as expecting to be able to sit down at the piano if you've never played it before and bang out a tune. Be gentle with yourself.

2 ) The incentive to learning to increase your word count is to learn how to cut and edit more viciously. Which sounds odd. And I actually don't recommend deleting what you write, I recommend a discard document even for phrases as small as half a sentence, because you never know when you got it right the first time and if you (like me) do track word count as an accomplishment, it's good to see how much work you actually did at the end of the day.

3 ) But really, you need* (*if you so choose) to learn how to write 100 words easily, and then 1,000 words, and then 10,000 words because at some point, you might realize your story has gone off track and hit a wall and the only way to fix it is to go back 50 words, or 500 words, or 5,000 words and if you nearly killed yourself to write that much, you might be reluctant to remove it (to your discard doc), even if failing to do so will mean the whole story dies. The less effort it takes to write a lot, the more likely (if you're like me) that you'll be able remove the things that need to be removed without getting too possessive of them because they were so hard to write in the first place.

4 ) Now, the one reason to not just increase word count for the sake of word count is that short pieces actually, pound for pound, tend to get more attention because they represent less of a commitment for an audience. Long fics might have more comments, but if you broke down word count-to-feedback ratio, most one shots do a lot better. So don't negatively compare a short fic to a long fic just because it has more comments. Short fics and one shots can be very rewarding. But, as said in point 3, learning to write a lot means you can be more precise with removing extra stuff. For me, at least, writing something short is harder and takes a lot longer than writing something long. Even this post would probably be more successful if I could boil it down to a few bullet points, but that would take 10x more time and energy for me than just writing my thoughts out linearly without boiling them down to the most salient points.

5 ) For me, learning to write a lot had a lot to do with learning to trust my initial instincts. I've heard runners say the hardest part of learning to run was learning to stop stopping themselves. They said their own bodies held them back until they trained themselves to work with their bodies. I think writing is similar.

We have our internal editor, many people have heard of that, the voice that tries to edit a piece before it's done. That's worth noting if you haven't heard of it: don't try to edit while you're writing. Editing is for when your story or at least your chapter draft is done. Because you can't really see what needs to be fixed until you have the whole picture before you. It's like trying to color in the lines before you've actually drawn the lines of a picture.

But also consider this: you're not going to learn to write better than you already have in the .5 seconds while you're thinking about what to say next. Go with your first instincts. You've been reading, watching, and otherwise consuming stories for most of your life. You've been writing for some significant period of it too. You know everything you need to know, that you can possibly know to write the story in front of you right now. That's not going to change if you agonize over that next sentence for hours or weeks. You're not going to get better in that time without actually writing. And if you do, most likely you'll want to write something else because your interests and skills will have shifted and the story in front of you will die in that time. The best way to get better? Write and finish the story in front of you. There really is no comparison.

So the best thing you can do is write the next line that first appears in your head. Don't doubt yourself. Your brain knows what it's doing. Trust yourself. You know what comes next. And maybe you'll get to the end and realize it wasn't the right line. Well, then you can edit and fix it. And you'll have a much clearer idea of how to do that, of what needs to change at the end than you'll ever have in the moment. In the moment you need to stop fighting your own body and brain. Trust yourself. You know how to tell a story. You know what the next line will be if you just listen and don't edit it before it exists.

6 ) It's going to take practice. But writing 50 kind a crappy 100 word drabbles in under 15 minutes is going to teach you a lot more than staring at the blank document of your magnum opus novel that you haven't written a word for. Particularly, writing that many drabbles is going to help you with point 5: trusting yourself to know what the next sentences will be.

7 ) Don't bite off more than you can chew. If writing 100 words exhausts you, don't plot out a 100,000 word story. You're not there yet. You're training for a 5k and that's a marathon. You need to build to it and you need to be gentle with yourself about the fact that 100,000 words is a serious amount of effort and it would be as absurd to expect of yourself as expecting someone working up to a 5k to run a marathon without training first. Doesn't mean you shouldn't run every day though, or run when you can.

8 ) Random note but: stop checking your word count while you're writing. Check the word count when the section is done. I've stopped checking word count unless I'm looking to see how close I am to having a chapter's worth of content ready to post, I don't check it mid-scene anymore, only when I feel I've got something to share. I think it helps with both avoiding discouragement and feeling like you're "done" before you've actually finished anything and then resting on your laurels.

#writing #maggie rambles #maggie's writing progress

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sugolara · 4 months

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𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 (𝙏𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪)

ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

previous || series m.list || next

F/n had flipped a basket to hold the gate open. While she filled her basket with random medicines, Izuku read the information of the pills he held. He wasn’t really sure what it meant or how it was meant to be used, “Do you know which antibiotics are used for pain, or cuts or health?”

“No clue.” F/n said as she placed liquid medicine and injections in hers, “I haven't gone to that part, yet. I actually struggle with learning about pills. I know the basics like painkillers and cough syrup, but that’s about it.”

“Huh, I guess even the strongest people have weaknesses.” Izuku muttered as he placed the bottle in his basket and proceeded to place more.

She had heard and shrugged, agreeing with him. Her dad also struggled with defining antibiotics, it was her mom who taught her since she was a doctor, but she could never really focus. Something about pills and needles disinterested her.

She would keep the information in her head for a few days until it left. She was more into weapons like her father and grandfather. It was no wonder why she was closer to them. Though she did often feel ashamed as she didn’t really have a lot of memories with her mother. She only remembered her sister being around her mother a lot.

Her mother was also gone for most of the days as she was always on call. She knows that her mother tried her hardest to get closer, but with work and with her husband, F/n’s father, being paranoid, it was difficult.

A part of her disliked her father for keeping her away from the woman who gave her life. She tried to understand him, but understanding him was like a never ending maze. You think you figured out the way, only for the exit to expand as you get closer.

She’s even come to realize that if her father was still around, she would’ve turned out just like him. The question of why her mother who is sweet and kind would fall in love with someone who is rigid and oversuspicious never crossed her mind. The way she viewed it, she only saw two people in love. Everyone else is probably like them.

“Fourth one is full.” Izuku placed the heavy basket on the counter. He then looked at F/n as she stared at a bottle of pills, “What is it?”

“Oxy.” She placed it in her blue basket, “Really good with pain.”

He leaned on the counter, “We should’ve grabbed a cart and filled that instead, right? Maybe Shoto or Denki will bring one.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Placing an inhaler in her basket, she moved towards Izuku where she placed the grocery basket next to his, “We still have to fit the other stuff inside. I would have suggested looking for another car, but that’d be a struggle.”

“True.” He said as he turned to open the gate and jumped over, helping F/n in the process, “I feel like we have enough. We can always come back and grab whatever is left.”

“That is if there’s even anything left.” Katsuki said as he pushed a shopping cart with an annoyed look, “Dunce face and Half’n’Half told me you’d be here. Hurry it up, we want to hit the road before the sun goes down.”

“Ah, right.” Izuku began to place the filled up baskets in the shopping cart.

Katsuki eyed the half smashed broken padlock. He ignored it as he helped, well yanked the basket out of her hand, “Taking too damn long.”

She put her hands up, “Sorry.”

All the while Izuku let out a chuckle. They soon began to head to the others, the pills rattling against the bottle. While Izuku rubbed his eye, the lack of sleep catching up to him and F/n looking around, her light following, Katsuki pushed the cart, his mind thinking back to what Eijiro had said.

He would have eyed the girl but he didn’t want to get caught and not only that, but he didn’t want to believe what his mind was telling him. What’s the whole point of pursuing his heart if he didn’t know what he felt for the girl? It was blurry and confusing.

He probably had some admiration—though that was far stretched—or simply had her respect for helping him through a lot. It was then that he realized he’d forgotten to thank her for saving him that day.

“That is a lot of water.” Izuku said as he saw the platform cart. He was shocked at how just many there were, heck, how many supplies had been left abandoned.

“Shoto and Denki went to grab the other cart.” Eijiro said, “In the meantime, we should start heading out and get the cars. We’ll back them up so we can load.”

Katsuki looked at the size of the entrance gate. He wanted to make sure that the cars could fit inside the warehouse so that they didn’t need to be aware if any rotters were on sight. The RV wouldn't fit, the truck's trunk would fit as well as the red wagon car.

All he wanted to do was leave, “Shitty hair and Deku with me. Your back up, give her your gun, Shitty hair.”

She wanted to protest. She wanted to go out and slash those damn ugly things, not be back up. She’s never back up. She’s always the one with a weapon in hand, it's her life purpose. “Fine, take my keys.”

While the blonde grabbed her keys, the red head began to lift the gate. It made a loud squeaky sound the higher it got, the chains rattling in his hand. When the gate was finally up, the four had to squint and shield their eyes from the blaring sun.

It felt good to have the sun on their skin.

“Go.” The three males then went off while F/n aimed her friend's gun, peeking through the scope and watching their backs in case a dead neared. She had to admit, with her not around them, she kind of thought the worse. She felt like the only reason why Katsuki and Izuku were alive was because of her.

Izuku, Katsuki, and Shoto might have saved her from herself, but she was the only one pulling weight around here. Call it bad mannered, but it was true.

She sniped a rotter as it neared her car. She saw the blonde look at her before entering her car. When he was there, she moved to Izuku where he had his head resting on the steering wheel. Then there was Eijiro, who she could slightly see moving in the RV. She didn’t have a clear view of him which worried her, but when he opened the side door and waved at her, she lowered her weapon.

A low sigh came from her. Just then, Denki and Shoto arrived. They stood next to her, eyeing their surroundings.

From the corner of her eyes, she noticed that they both had different clothes, “You guys changed?”

“Yeah, I couldn't stand the dried blood and dirt on me.” Denki was grossed out with himself, “I need a long shower.”

Shoto nodded with him. He then looked at her, “There’s a lot of clothing left. You should probably change to.”

“You saying I look dirty?” She tried to tease him, though her face held her usual scowl, giving Shoto the idea that he had insulted her. He shook his head, his eyes widening, “No! I didn’t mean that!”

Denki had to hold back his laugh as he watched Izuku back the truck.

“I was joking.” She shoved the gun to his hands and began to walk off, “I’ll be back.”

She turned her headlamp on as the sunlight faded behind her. Even with all the supplies they had gathered, the store was still stocked. She wondered if she should grab a few clothes for herself. She had grabbed an empty duffel bag earlier and it held nothing besides snacks, hammers, and a water bottle.

She then decided to pack some after she changed to new ones. Her shoes were still good but she packed an extra pair, just in case. After putting on a thick winter sweater, she headed to where they slept and grabbed the other bags that held batteries, flashlights, pencil, markers, and other stuff.

She threw the bag down when she stood by her friends, “You sure we won’t run out of gas?”

“I don’t think so. The tanks are almost full.” Eijiro said as he grabbed her bags, “But if it does we’ll stop and look for another one. It’ll be annoying but we need the supplies.”

Denki grunted as he pulled the waters, neatly placing them so that all the other drinks could fit, “Hopefully all this stuff is still here when we come back.”

“Doubt it.” Shoto gave Denki a soda pack, bending down to grab another one, “We got lucky that no one has stepped in here.”

“Less talking, more working.” Katsuki said, getting annoyed with the slow pacing.

“F/n, can you help me with the medicine?” Izuku asked as he held a basket, “We’re placing it in your car.”

She nodded, following after him. With Eijiro keeping watch, and the others packing, the time went by fast. And then, they were on the road; Eijiro with Katsuki, Denki with Izuku, and F/n with Shoto.

They avoided the highways as they didn’t want anything to push them back. It was just like Eijiro said, a day and 10 hours. A day and 10 hours until they finally, finally reach what they came for.

“You know what I was thinking?” F/n said as she watched the town they were in leave her sight. She lightly gripped the steering wheel when she heard Shoto hum. She let out a soft chuckle, though it was kind of sad, “I was thinking…that if things didn’t work out, we’d get on a ship.”

He looked away from the homes that passed them and confusingly stared at her, “A ship?”

“Yeah, a ship.” She said, looking at Izuku’s car, “The nights I’ve been kept up, I think back to other countries and if they had it harder or if there is…”

She refrained from saying that word. Why bother with it now? After 7 months and 10 days? If there even was what she was thinking, don’t you think they would’ve come to rescue Japan? Or perhaps, Japan was deemed as a failed country? Would there ever be such a thing?

A cure?

“I just want to know what there is. I want to know if they began to start a civilization or a community larger than the ones here.” Her eyes lowered, “There has to be better luck out there, right?”

It did sound silly to him. Getting on a ship? Does she even know to drive one? “I see your point. Sometimes I do think about other countries, but I tend not to. It's the same anywhere, so why should we?”

That wasn’t what she was hoping to hear. She then let out a chuckle, playing with her emotions, “I remembered my dad mentioned it. I thought he was stupid so I just wanted to hear someone else's opinion. Forget I even said it, okay? I feel embarrassed now.”

He should have said something, but he didn’t. He only hummed and looked out his window again. The fields and trees in view. With the sun coming down, the sky casted a beautiful color. Its orange, yellow and pink colors complemented the wheat fields.

The ones in front, Katsuki and Eijiro, snacked on some crackers. The food in their car rattled against their crate. They had placed some in the RV’s drawer to make room. Seeds of fruits and vegetables, canned food, snacks, bagged grains, and other packed edibles that didn’t go rotten sat behind them. They also added extra packed drinks.

Then Izuku and Denki. The freckle male has already gone to sleep while the other male drove. Their waters, sodas, juice and even beer clattered in the trunk. Their personal bags were in the backseat, jolting at every bump the truck made. Denki had looked at the fuel gauge, a small smile playing in his lips as the gas was still full. He listened to Izuku’s snores as he drank an energy drink.

When the night hit, they stopped and switched places so the other could sleep. Except for Denki. He kept his promise to keep watch and let Izuku sleep comfortably. He had placed a blanket on him though, as the night had begun to get chilly.

After hours on the road and switching once more…they made it.

They slowly came to stop, their tired eyes looking at the gated walls and entrance. Denki and Eijiro got off, knocking a secret tune on the covered gate.

Then Katsuki, Izuku, Shoto and F/n stepped out.

Her eyes slightly widening as she could hear birds chirping, kids laughing even when the sun was just waking up and people chattering. The faint smell of something good and a firecamp had her nose twitching. She lifted her hand, the mist around her wetting her fingertips. She let out a small chuckle, a breath exiting her lips and she could slightly see the fog coming out her mouth.

She made it.

#izuku x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #midoriya x y/n #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #izuku midoriya x reader #todoroki shoto x reader

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beansnpeets · 7 days

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Jon and I have spent a lot of time talking since I still have to keep living at the house we have been renting for now. He tried very hard to get me to reconsider. He even started doing some reading online on relationship issues and suggested after some time apart that we start over and try dating again. He insists that he has changed and he understands now and he can do better. He just wants me to give him a chance. I told him I don't have romantic feelings for him anymore and that I just can't do it. I told him all the reasons why and all the things I struggled with and he seemed to understand. He is taking it better now, but he has convinced himself that there is still a chance we will get back together down the road. I haven't told him I have feelings for someone else and I don't plan to, but it's hard. I'd like for him to let me go. I do still care about him a lot and we do get along super well as friends and I want him to remain a part of my life, but I cannot guarantee that I will ever want to actually get back together. I am torn, though, because we DO get on well and have a lot of similar interests and those things are always nice. He has been realizing more and more that he needs to work less so he can prioritize happiness and he was making all these plans for stuff we were going to do all summer and snowmobiling next winter and I was actually really glad to hear he had been thinking of those things because I had tried for YEARS to get him to take more time off to go do stuff with me, but all he cared about was work. It sucks that he came to this realization so late. It would have been nice 2 years ago. So I am almost tempted to try again with him because of those things, but then I cannot deny my feelings for sled dog guy. That crush has been festering for quite a while and I had been looking forward to perhaps pursuing that at some point after I take some time for myself. And I have my doubts either of them would agree to a poly situation. It sucks. I'm not really doing very well so far. This is possibly the hardest thing I have ever gone through. Plus I am worried about my job because of Boss's health and also how expensive my hydro bills are going to be at the house. I may have to get a second job, which I super do not have the energy or time for, but I might not have a choice. OR rent out the spare room and have a roommate, which I also don't want. I am just really stressed out and upset. This is such a mess.

#personal

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zombiepuke · 7 months

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wlw cecilia pederson hc's

I haven't seen ANY Cecilia content and you know what. that is just homophobic. idc I love her so much and I can't stop thinking about her so here have some thoughts. leave it to me to love the character everyone despises

wlw gay stuff ahead // I try to keep her in-character but yknow I'm not perfect so - pls feel free to reblog/comment it truly means the world to me xoxo love you all!

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—Being with Cecilia is. Something. To say the least. She’s difficult to keep up with, even harder to be with. She’s mean, cold-hearted, and doesn’t really open up to you, ever. She doesn’t necessarily go out of her way to physically harm anyone, but she also doesn’t have much of an issue of morality when she needs to use violence. Whenever you find out about her scams, you’re undeniably angry, but she has you wrapped around her little finger so tightly, you don’t dare to even think of turning her in, or even worse - leaving her. So you take all of her bullshit in stride and try your hardest to stay on her good side.

—She’s manipulative as fuck. Obviously. But she has an extreme soft spot for you and you only. Any other person in on her scams are expendable, and she chooses to not give a fuck about them, but time and time again, she chooses to care about you. You’re not entirely sure how that makes you feel about yourself, but she’s so good to you, and she fucks you so sweetly, you find yourself also not giving a fuck about your situation, either - so long as she keeps fucking you and treating you the way she does.

—You lowkey hate yourself for how easily she has a hold on your life. She can tell you to do anything and you’re scrambling to get it done like a dumb little puppy, just for her. Your entire identity, your entire sense of self was gone in her presence. You would burn the world to make her happy, to keep her attention on you (you secretly wished she would feel the same about you, but you know you’re just as expendable as the rest).

—(You’re actually not expendable, to her. You’re the one most important thing to Cecilia in her life, but she would absolutely never, in a million years, make that fact known. She, too, would destroy the world for you.)

—She expects a lot from you. She sees you as her equal, her only real friend - and she expects you to act like it. You’re intelligent, level-headed - just like her, and she knows it (regardless of your intelligence, Cecilia is your main weakness - she makes you stupid for her). She absolutely will make you feel like garbage sometimes, if you fuck up or do something not up to her (high) standards, she’s livid. She’s not above slapping, hair grabbing, cussing at you - and you take it all, you’re in too deep with her to argue, and because you know you wouldn’t win against her, anyways. Plus, you figure you have it pretty decent, being on Cecilia’s good side - she definitely love bombs you and is overly sweet on you as a manipulative tactic (and, she genuinely likes you. Not that you know that.)

—She is possessive as HELL. She will make it well known you are hers and hers only.

—Cecilia spoils the fuck out of you. If she likes you, you would pretty much be set for life. I hate to say sugar mama buttttt, if there was anything you wanted or liked, you would get it (and you never question how she gets her hands on some things). She has money, and she likes to spend it, especially on you. She spoils you with extravagant gifts, jewelry, clothes, perfume (HC Cecilia has tons of high-end perfumes cause why not), and even dates - she loves to dote on you and show you off, show the world what she has (you’re her most valuable asset). Cecilia is surprisingly romantic, very elegant and pretentious, very hedonistic - her pleasure is of utmost importance, and your pleasure is her pleasure as well, so you enjoying yourself is something she takes very seriously. Yes, she’s a very cold person and she is not above bloody violence, but she is also very womanly, therefore, treats you very much so like a lady - so different than how she treats her victims or how she acts when she’s angry. She takes you to the fanciest restaurants, always buys the most expensive bottles of wine for you to share (HC she’s definitely a Cabernet girly!). She won’t stand for you to go wanting for anything.

—And she absolutely spoils you with orgasms, too. Cecilia likes to make you come. A lot. Too much, sometimes - your time in bed with her always ends with you hardly able to walk because your legs are like gelatin. Knowing she can make you scream, can make you come that hard that many times, it’s her favorite fucking thing in the world and she can never get enough. She’s really fucking talented at learning your body and what you like, what makes you tick - she maps you out, calculated, like she is with everything in her life. She knows exactly how to touch you to get you shaking, exactly how you like your cunt to be eaten, exactly how to slide her fingers just right to get you squirming - and she’ll keep doing it, over and over, until you can’t keep up with how many orgasms you’ve had.

—You absolutely have to ask (beg) Cecilia’s permission to come.

—The PRAISINGGGGGG AND DEGRADINGGGGGG with this woman is INSANE. She talks a LOT while she’s fucking you and man, she says some dirty shit. She definitely talks you through it constantly, sweet nothings in your ears while she’s sitting behind you, her chest pressed to your back and one of her hands in-between your legs, the other clasped across your chest, her lips planting kisses on your up-turned neck. She’s really good at balancing being incredibly mean to you and incredibly sweet, touching you gently but whispering some of the iciest words to you. Like sometimes she leaves you in tears she’s so mean to you. Look at you, filthy slut, gonna come on my fingers? Let’s see how many times that worthless cunt can come for me tonight, hm? You would be nothing without me, sweetheart, you need me to take care of you, just like that whorish cunt needs me to take care of her, too. Dumb bitch, making a mess all over me like the dirty harlot you are. Look at you, about to come already - I don’t think so, baby girl. You think you deserve to come? You think you deserve me? Think you deserve me fucking you? No one else will ever fuck you, except for me. No one else could ever fuck you like I do, baby. Say something smart to me again, whore, and I’ll never touch your pretty little pussy ever again. That’s all you want, right? Is for me to keep playing with that spoiled little cunt? Aw, the little slut is crying. What a rotten, stupid baby you are, pretty girl.

—In addition to how cruelly she speaks to you, sometimes she just straight up refuses to let you come for long periods of time. I’m talking hours, days, even, of no relief for you at all. She loves to see you defenseless, powerless, begging her to give you something. It’s either you don’t come at all, or she’s making you come so many times you can hardly see. Yknow a good mix.

—But her praises would be just as intense, when she was in the mood to treat you a little nicer. Being with her is a whirlwind, she 180’s like crazy. The pet names are endless, constantly calling you baby, baby girl, love, sweetheart, good girl, princess, etc. Sometimes it’s strange hearing such sweet names pour from her lips as she’s also saying the most cruel, vile things to you, but all you know is that you cling to everything she says, drink up every word she utters to you. Oh, my sweet girl. Look how precious you are, so desperate. Tell me how it feels, hm, darling? Is that good? You’re so pretty, grinding on my leg like that, honey. Just relax, baby girl, and let me take care of you, I know you need that, need someone to take care of you, I know you need me. Oh, tsk tsk tsk, I know it feels good, baby, let it all out, sweet thing, let me hear you. You sound so lovely moaning my name like that. You’re such a good girl for me, angel, you’re so good. God, you’re so beautiful, so perfect, so flawless, your cunt is so pretty, she’s all mine. You’re all mine, princess. Can you come for me again, baby girl? Come on, I know you can do it, come for me, come for me, elskling, just like that. Oh, I’m so proud of you, godjenta.

—She speaks half english, half Norwegian when she’s fucking you - usually when she’s praising you - a lot of the pet names she uses are in her native tongue. Hearing her speak to you in Norwegian sends you into another dimension.

—Cecilia typically prefers to keep her clothes on while you’re intimate. It’s just how she is, very hidden and secretive, not that she minds you knowing anything about her. It’s just what she’s comfortable with most of the time. You like it, though, there’s a sense of power she has while you’re completely naked and she’s fully clothed. You also love the way the expensive fabrics she wears feel against your skin when she’s on top of you, or holding you to her, or draped across your back.

—Thigh riding. With her clothes on. Her watching you smugly, trying so hard to get yourself off right there on her leg. Dirty worthless slut, trying so hard to come. Look at you. It’s a privilege to even use my leg. Just think about that.

—Speaking of that, it takes an incredibly long time for Cecilia to allow you to see her naked, or to even touch her. She is a control freak through and through, and she doesn’t like relinquishing that - but eventually, she trusts you enough, and lets you touch her, see her body beneath her clothes. She’s beautiful everywhere, not just in the face, and you’re really excited to be able to touch her, too, bring her as much pleasure as she brings you. It’s different, complicated for Cecilia to let you in in that way, but once she gives herself over to you for a change, she learns to adore it. You worship her the first time she lets you touch her, pressing your mouth to every piece of her body, amazed, in awe of just how gorgeous she was, how reactive she was to your touch. The first time you ever make her come, you feel like it was akin to seeing some sort of ancient god - seeing her, usually so ice cold and stoic and uncaring, arching her back and pulling at your hair and her pretty face flushed and scrunched up in ecstasy, her blonde hair spread across the pillow like an undeserving halo, the noises of desperation and your name coming from her lips in a whimper, the taste of her cunt behind your own lips. The sight could have made you come right then and there with her. She grabbed your chin and kissed you, hard, panting into your mouth, body visibly shaking. God, darling, you’re so fucking good at that—

And then, you’re just as addicted to pleasing her as she is to you.

—She babbles to you in both languages as she comes. Absolutely.

—Her favorite thing to do to you is go down on you. Something about it is just it for her. She likes having direct power over you, and over time she’s realized that her mouth can break you down like nothing else, having you making noises you’d never thought you’d make, sending you to places in the stars. Cecilia is one thing and that is determined, and that determination is very clear when she’s eating you out - she won’t stop for anything. She doesn’t care if you have already come three times - she’s staying right between your legs until she’s had her fill of you, not that you’re complaining. She’s honestly pretty sweet with it (as she is with lots of things involving you - the contrast between her career choices and how she treats other people and how she treats you, it gives you whiplash sometimes); she’s slow and steady, pressing tantalizing kisses all down your frontside, in the creases of where your pelvis meets your legs, up your center - landing right on top of your clit, tongue slowly dipping down into your cunt, the pace making you shove your face in your hands and wail your desperation into your palms. She murmurs soft praises and maybe some harsher degradation in between your thighs, in tune with the even softer movements of her mouth against you, looking up at you through blonde lashes all the while, gauging your reactions to everything she does. She compliments and praises everything about you. Oh, my pretty girl, such a precious little pussy, hm? I know you need it, sweetheart, be patient. I’ll give you everything you need. Her hands would be busy, too, coming up to rest on your upper thighs, your hips, your lower stomach, nails scraping gentle patterns to your skin. She’s a tease with everything - she wants you desperate and dripping for her and she likes to hold your neediness for her over your head. But once she stops barely touching your skin and running her tongue across your lips, she’s latching onto your cunt like it’s air, not letting up til you’re crying and trying to thrash away from the intensity. And all positions are game for her - she especially likes to eat your pussy from the back while you’re on all fours, elbows to the ground and ass hiked up as far as you can arch, one of her hands wrapped around your thigh and the other pressing a thumb to your clit while her tongue is pressed into your cunt. Or she likes you to sit on her face cause she can grab onto your thighs and hold you down to her. She also likes to eat you out while you’re standing, pressed against the floor-to-ceiling glass panels in her home, her mouth nestled between your legs and her arms wrapped around your thigh as your knees shook from her circling your clit with her tongue.

—Her handssssss her hands are so pretty. Cecilia is super talented with her fingers and really enjoys holding you to her chest while she plays with your pussy, dipping her fingers down into your wetness to rub your clit with, yknow yknow the good shit. Or she knows exactly how to hit every damn spot inside of you to have you howling her name into the blankets.

—Scissoring? Hell yes. She’s all for it, and she doesn’t care if she’s on top or bottom. Sometimes she likes when you take control, swiveling your hips against hers, your arms wrapped around one of her legs to fit your bodies together, being able to see her lovely face react, eyes closing, brows furrowing, as you tilt down to get the friction just right. It felt like you were fucking her instead of the other way around (even though her iron grip on your hips told you she was absolutely still in control). Or, when she’s on top, and her hips thrust so perfectly in tune with your own, your sex gliding so wonderfully against hers, her arms reaching down to rest her hands on your chest for leverage - taking one and slipping it to lay against your lower stomach to press her thumb to your clit, just to give you that extra bolt to send you over the edge. Her hair flows and swirls over her shoulders, her head thrown back with her eyes closed, focusing on the feeling, the way her muscles and bones move with her, the heat of her body radiating onto you, it’s addicting. She’d lean forward and press her forehead to yours, eyes meeting your own, forcing you to look at her while she thrusts and fucks you into oblivion. It’s an almost sweet gesture, one of her hands coming up to hold your cheek and urge you to come for her.

—She’ll make you watch her fuck you in the mirror. Seeing her hand come up to wrap around your throat from behind while she’s railing you, her breath on your neck as she’s whispering dirty things into your ear, her eyes on yours in the reflection - you like seeing her face as she’s unraveling you.

—Definitely uses toys on you - she would absolutely hold a vibe to your clit til you literally feel like blacking out, or hold a wand to you while fucking you with a strap, or suck on your clit while fucking you with a toy, too.

—She’s rough a lot of the time, slapping you and throwing you around, pulling at your hair and forcing you down. But other times, she touches you like you’d break, slow and gentle and calm. You couldn’t ever say that she loved you but, maybe in her own sick, fucked up way, she did. Above all she enjoys being around you, she enjoys making you feel good and spoiling you, and she’s down for most anything.

—She does care for you - again, in her own fucked up way - and she doesn’t leave you hanging, especially after sex that was particularly rough or degrading. She will absolutely hold you close to her and let you come down from the intensity. She’s not completely heartless. She’ll rub your back, stroke your hair, kiss your forehead, get you water, have intimate, deep conversations for hours - all the sweet gooey shit. She really likes to run you baths and even join you in them (let’s be real we know this bitch has a huge bathtub). Long story short she’s not gonna say or do some fucked up sadistic shit to you and not make sure you’re okay afterwards - she’s not completely evil, she just puts herself first in most situations, but when you come around, she kinda melts for you and only you. One time, she was on top of you, fully clothed, kissing at your shoulders and grinding her hips down into yours, and she buried her face into the crook of your neck, whispering oh, god, what are you doing to me, sweetheart? referring to how soft she was around you sometimes, how warmly you made her feel, how you saw right through her cruel bullshit and melted her into a puddle. She eventually opens up to you about a lot of things in her life, her childhood, her past, how she became the woman she was. It makes your heart jump. Sometimes, she is so loving to you, and so mean to everyone else, it makes you feel like the luckiest person on the planet, to have such an intense, cold, self-centered woman like Cecilia take a fondness to you.

#cecilia pederson #saw x #saw #cecilia saw x #I want to write more for herrrrrrrrr #I LOVE HER DESPERATELY YOUR HONOR #reblogs are so welcomed!!!!

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shootingstarpilot · 7 months

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Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @merlyn-bane!

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

Eight!

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

217,911

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

*sobbing* Star Wars, my beloved. The brainrot is real; I am consumed. When I was still on FF.net, though, I had stuff up in Harry Potter and How to Train Your Dragon.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

back then, i was dauntless

how to bring him home

if i don't make it back (from where i've gone)

though some would harm you

like lightning changing hands

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I absolutely do! I feel bad because I know I've gotten some lovely comments on chapters that aren't the most recent one, and those tend to get lost in the inbox, but I promise I'm working on it- if you get a response from a comment you left a year and a half ago, don't hold it against me 😅

I do it because I want so badly to build community here! I love getting comments from people, responding to something with a wee hint of a tease because I'm AWFUL and then getting a keysmash of a response and then exchanging snippets in the comments, truly, it fills me with delight- and I've met some absolutely wonderful people who I got introduced to by responding to comments-

Anyway. Community. That.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh. Hm. Hm.

I... guess it would have to be though some would harm you? Although I'm not sure if I feel confident in that designation, because it's very much part of a multi-work series. And I'm too much of a sucker for happy endings to write a stand-alone fic that doesn't have one, I think.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh, neural plasticity, for sure! Short and sweet <3

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

A bit. I can brush off the "actually the Jedi were the real monsters" assholes easily enough, but honestly, the comments that hit the hardest are the ones that clearly come from people who think they're offering ✨constructive criticism.✨ Not only because I didn't ask for it, but also because saying my work is "fatiguing" or "I'm sure there's a decent story here, but it's being buried under what you're trying to do with it-" there's nothing constructive there.

Side note: the person who left that last comment deleted it about half an hour later, because when I went to reply, it had vanished from my inbox. I don't know if they did that because they didn't want me to be able to reply, or if they realized that what they said was unhelpful and mean, but if they ever happen to see this-

I still got the email, prick.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Write? No, I haven't quite worked up the panache to try. Reading, on the other hand...

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I do have snippets of one crossover that I actually posted in an anonymous collection, ha- an old BBC Merlin/ Good Omens/ Supernatural fic that I dug out of my old documents. Other than that, no- unless you count the Prequels and the Clone Wars as different enough to qualify as a crossover.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I know of- very much open to it, though!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Since I don't think taking drabbles in tumblr chats to ridiculous lengths counts, I'd have to say no- I'd like to, though!

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Codywan. Fiercely, unwaveringly Codywan.

Just to reinforce this- 292 of my bookmarks consist of Cody/Obi-Wan. The next most common romantic pairing (Aziraphale/Crowley) has less than half that, at 121.

I'm a goner, and I can't even bring myself to regret it.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

OKAY SO I've written snippets of a modern AU focusing on Helix, Needle and Stitch, and I'm totally gonna take this opportunity to rage about it. I'm probably never gonna finish it, but it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, so, hey- what else is fic for, really, if not for indulging yourself?

At first, it's just Needle and Stitch. It's just been the two of them, for as long as Stitch can remember. Needle's only a few years older than him, but he's raised him, kept him in school, kept a roof over their heads and food on the table-

Food on Stitch's plate, at least.

Then, one night, Needle does not come home.

A hit-and-run, the nurse tells him, although the words will not trickle through until much later. A coma.

He will not, they say patiently, come home for some time.

(There is so much that needs doing.)

Helix, meanwhile, is studying physical therapy at the local community college and working part-time at his brother Ace's bakery.

It's during one of these shifts that a skinny little twerp comes in and hands him a job application.

(Rent and bills and Needle Needle Needle-)

It doesn't take Helix long to realize something is... off.

Ace tells him not to push it, but-

The kid's a good worker. Great, as a matter of fact. He's never late. Stays past closing, too, if they've had a rush. He tells Helix about his brother and nothing else.

(His brother hasn't come to visit.)

Everything that's not sold at the end of the day gets packaged up and given out. They only toss in the dumpster what's really, truly inedible- stuff that got dropped in the kitchen, scraps left over from customers-

He thinks it's raccoons, at first, until he peers in and sees Stitch flatten himself against a heap of bags in the corner.

They package up leftovers for him, after that. A bit more than leftovers, maybe. Ace sets aside sandwiches. Helix buys him a thermos and tells him it's been in the lost and found for over a year. They make sure he eats.

(Needle's getting transferred out of the ICU.)

Stitch is trying. He's doing everything he can, and more besides. But Needle's life is too expensive and he's buckling under the weight.

(He hasn't even grieved. Not really. No room. No time.)

Eventually, something has to give.

He does.

(He hadn't expected someone to be there to catch him.)

Featuring:

Helix stumbling into adopting first one, then two idiot kids

Ace being a supportive brother

Needle finding his way home

Mace Windu as Needle's (unfairly attractive, Helix thinks) neurologist

Obi-Wan as a hospital social worker who gets assigned Needle's file

Cody as Obi-Wan's husband, Helix's cousin, and children's book author (Stitch's favorite)

(listen I am WEAK for author!Cody, truly)

(Helix was totally the one who got them together and he regrets it every day of his life.)

Sheev Palpatine as the epitome of the evil of the American healthcare system

The Melidaan crew running a long-term, non-profit care facility that offers both in-patient and out-patient rehab services

16.) What are your writing strengths?

(I'VE PUT TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS. SHIT.)

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I am, apparently, really good at writing breakdowns. >:3

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Dialogue does not come easily to me. I have to work a bit to hit my stride. But I think it turns out well enough!

Hm. Coming from a purely technical perspective here, I think the reader should be able to understand everything that's spoken in a fic. If a character says something in another language, then I think the best way to convey that is, "X muttered something Y didn't catch," or, if the listener recognizes that it's at least in another language, "X muttered something in French."

If the reader should understand it, then something along the lines of: "'I knew we shouldn't have trusted him,' X muttered in French."

If the POV character doesn't understand the language, it doesn't make sense to provide the reader with a perfect transliteration of what the other character is saying. The character wouldn't have that knowledge. It can really take me out of the fic when two characters suddenly start conversing in written-out sentences in another language, and I have to scroll all the way down to the footnotes for translations.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

But then again, that's just my opinion- I'm sure others have their own thoughts on this!

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Harry Potter.

Hell, I have to say like lightning changing hands, if only because whatever fic I'm writing at the moment is my favorite. It's the act of creation that does it for me!

(Also because it's such a good opportunity to explore so many relationship dynamics.)

No-pressure tags for @jedi-enthusiast, @themonopolyhat, @shadow-pixelle, and @foreverchangingfandomsao3!

#shoulder the sky #me: let's summarize this lil nebulous au for sharing! :D #also me ten minutes later: shit. it's grown legs.#personal #my writing

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year

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Getting Off the Table

Warning: Hellcheer picnic table smut

18+ MINORS DNI

Chrissy Cunningham was a good girl. She went to church every Sunday, and she tried her hardest to believe, but how could she believe in a God that took away her brother? How could she believe in a God that gave her parents who blamed her for his death? It was an animal attack, and she was supposed to be watching him. She tried to save him but by the time she heard him scream, he was already gone. Her parents never quite looked at her the same way ever again. She swore her mother hated her.

Nothing was ever good enough for her mother, so Chrissy stopped trying to please her. When she told her mother that morning that she had dumped Jason, her mother screamed bloody murder and told her that she would never find anyone else to put up with her. Chrissy didn't say anything. She just walked out. Now, she needed to deal with these headaches. Drugs seemed like her best option, and who better to get them from than Eddie Munson? He wasn't at all what she thought he would be. When she looked into his eyes, she couldn't help the thought that crossed her mind. My God, he was pretty.

"You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like," Chrissy had admitted.

"What? Mean and scary? Yeah, well, I thought you'd be mean and scary too," Eddie said as he sat back down.

"Me?" Chrissy asked.

"Terrifying," Eddie agreed. "So, in other good news, flattery totally works with me. Twenty-five percent discount. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here."

She was going to ask if he had anything stronger, really she was, but her intrusive thoughts took over.

"Are you on the table?" Chrissy asked, a bit nervously.

"Pardon?" Eddie asked, his eyebrows raised.

"I heard there are other ways of relieving stress that don't involve drugs," Chrissy said as she rubbed circles into his hand. "So, is the offer of you relieving my stress personally on the table?"

"I-i mean, yeah, if you want, but you should know that I've never done. . .anything," Eddie blushed.

"You haven't even been kissed?" Chrissy asked, and he shook his head. "That's a shame. A pretty boy like you should be kissed."

"Me? Pretty?"

"Very."

Eddie blushed and hid behind his hair. Chrissy stood up, shook her hair out of its ponytail, and moved Eddie's stuff out of the way as she crawled across the picnic table. She placed her legs on either side of Eddie and cupped his face. She leaned toward him and kissed him. Eddie sighed against her lips and kissed her back almost immediately. She almost laughed at how eager he was. She felt his hands shake as he slipped them under the edge of her sweater. She broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against his.

"I'm nervous too," Chrissy said..

"You are?" Eddie asked.

"I've kissed before, but I've never had sex," Chrissy said.

"You and Carver never. . .?" Eddie asked.

"Nope, we were basically arranged to be married. Both he and my mother wanted me to remain pure for when we eventually did marry," Chrissy rolled her eyes. "Meanwhile, he was fucking a couple of my cheerleaders."

"That's. . .barbaric," Eddie said. "And are you sure you want to give it up to me?"

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Take off my panties."

"Right."

He hands slid under the skirt and tugged her underwear down. Chrissy grabbed his hand and guided towards her dripping cunt.

"See? I'm already so wet for you, Eddie," Chrissy said sweetly.

"Fucck!"

She pulled him up, her legs squeezing his waist, and began to undo his belt. Chrissy fumbled with it before getting it undone. She pushed his pants down, leaving him in his boxers, and pulled out his cock. She pushed him back down onto the bench and moved to straddle his waist.

"Wait. . . I don't have anything," Eddie said.

"It's okay, I'm on birth control," Chrissy said.

"Oh."

She spat into her hand and began stroking his already hardening length. Eddie groaned, and his eyes rolled back into his head. She guided it to her entrance and slowly sank down onto his dick. She wasn't sure he would fit at first, but she managed it. Chrissy began to move, rocking her hips slowly. Their moans echoed into the trees. It was soon getting very hot, their skin sticky with sweat. Eddie had to remove his shirt. Chrissy followed with her sweater and her top. She thought about leaving her bra on, but no, she wanted him to see them, to suck on them. She unhooked her bra and slid it off. Eddie cupped them, a thumb sweeping over her nipple and pinching it. Chrissy let out a stuttering moan. Eddie attached his lips to her neck as he caressed her breast while her fingers grazed the tattoos on his chest. Chrissy grinded down harder and faster, her hands moving to grip his back as she burrowed her face against his neck. Meanwhile, Eddie placed her hands on her hips and helped her move. He finally unloaded inside of her, and once he did that, she finally collapsed against him. He was still inside of her, but neither one of them wanted to move from the embrace.

"That was -

"So fucking awesome!" Eddie exclaimed and Chrissy giggled.

She leaned back and kissed him. She pushed herself off of his dick and sat back on top of the table. Eddie pulled out his bandana and got to work cleaning her up then himself. Eddie leaned over and kissed her.

"Fuck you're so beautiful," Eddie said breathlessly.

"Come here, there's something I wanted to do," Chrissy said, blushing as she leaned forward and placed gentle bites on his tattoos. "Sorry, was that weird?"

"Sometimes you just have to bite the things that you like," Eddie said.

He leaned down and placed equally gentle bites right in the top of her breast. He wrapped his tongue briefly around her nipple before pulling away. He pulled on his shirt and handed Chrissy her underwear. She slipped them on along with the rest of her clothing as Eddie pulled on his jacket and vest.

"I was wondering if we could do that again some time," Chrissy said, shyly biting her lip.

"Yeah, I love you! I mean, fuck, I would love too. Okay. That was weird, sorry," Eddie laughed, and Chrissy giggled. "Um, would you like to have dinner with me tonight? You could come over if you wanted to. I actually like to cook, you know."

"I would love to. Walk me to class?" Chrissy asked, and he nodded.

Chrissy grabbed his hand and put her scrunchie on his wrist before entertwining their fingers. Eddie gazed at her affectionately, his eyes twinkling. He had to look ahead a few minutes later when he ran into a tree, which caused Chrissy to laugh. Eddie wrapped an arm around her waist, tickling her mercilessly, and then pulled her to his side. As soon as they walked into school, everyone stared at them, which Chrissy thought was simply delightful. Jason stormed up to them.

"You dumped me for the freak!" Jason yelled.

"No, I dumped you because your personality was as big as your dick which according to half of the cheerleaders, is very hard to find," Chrissy replied, and Eddie nearly choked on his spit. "Eddie's, however, can be seen from space."

Jason was too angry to say anything else and walked away.

"Is it really big?" Eddie asked her.

"You almost didn't fit, honey," Chrissy said.

He hid his face in her neck, cheeks red. Chrissy chuckled.

"I really like you," Eddie said, his voice muffled against her neck.

"I really like you too," Chrissy said.

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