#i promise im not ignoring or forgetting to answer things

[spearxwind]

btw if you sent an ask or a DM in the past few weeks and I havent gotten to it yet i am so sorry but it may still be a hot minute until i do due to irl stuff + my mental health

dont worry im doing fine ive just been heavily prioritizing irl stuff and i have accidentally let DMs and such build up so I will try to pick away at them when the hectic weeks stop coming

[luvly-writer]

You should be (afraid)

Batfamily x Neglected! Reader

Author's note: This IS the last chapter, damn....Thank God, the next one shot is one I am excited for but babes that gonna have to wat till tomorrow. Imagine Y/n's clothes like this and this but instead of red, it is green. ( yes im an ATLA fan and yes it its inspired by Azula)

Warnings: Language?

Part 1 // Part 2

---

You double-checked your hair as you looked in the mirror. The day had come when you would only be known as Y/n Al Ghul, heir to the Demon Head and future Leader of the League of Assassins. It was difficult to grasp if you were quite honest. Per your request, the League had changed headquarters. Nanda Parbat was no longer safe so you had advised of getting one of the old abandoned cities of the League and turning the temple into headquarters with the rest of the city becoming a safe place for all of the servants and assassins. It was surrounded by water and walls with constant surveillance, meaning that no one could get in or out without people knowing. You were never going to forget the day that you came back, the surprise on your grandfather's face as you got to your knees and pledged allegiance to the League. He wasn't convinced at first but came around as you solidified your loyalty. You were no longer a Wayne like Damian. You were an Al Ghul

// "Leave us." Ras's voice carried out across the room. Your mother looked at you and gave you a reassuring nod before she left. As the room emptied, you were starting to feel nervous. Was this the right decision or were you too impulsive? "Explain to me, once again, child. Why are you here?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. You summon all of the courage you had in your body and stand up. "I came to reclaim my birthright as the rightful heir to the Demon Head," I said, trying my best to keep my voice steady. "Is that so? Why the change of heart?" I hesitated to answer and he saw right through me. His knowing smirk gave it away. "Tired of being part of the birds and the Bats it seems. It is very curious how only one came back. You and your brother were inseparable. Should I expect a visit from him as well? To rescue his sis-" "No." I interrupted him and he seemed taken back "No?" "I was never part of their…team. My brother formed great loyalty and attachment to them, but I did not. They…" "Go on" "They rejected me the day I arrived, yet accepted my brother. I have been forgotten, ignored, and cast aside from the moment that I became present in that household. I only hold care for one of them and even he wasn't enough to make me stay." Ras stayed quiet for a moment. "So what my daughter has been telling me is correct after all. It wasn't just that she missed you. Well, then. Let me make you a proposition. You have three months to make me believe you are capable of being my heir. If you succeed, you will begin training solely for the purpose of being my successor. Were you to not prove yourself, you would leave at once. Have I made myself clear, child?" Ras never was one for empty threats and promises, so all she could do was nod. "You are dismissed. Tell your mother to meet me here. We have a few things to discuss" he dismissed you, "Oh and child?" You looked towards him hopefully. "It is good one of you came back to your senses. Don't disappoint me" And thus began the most excruciating three months of your life. //

You were surprised at how well you had adjusted to the League after coming back. Sure, those three months were harsh, but they weren't bad. You were thankful that you picked up a demanding sport such as ice skating. You weren't sure how you'd survive otherwise. Your mother would spar with you any time she visited so your skills weren't too rusty. After sharpening what had been there once again, which had taken you a month and a half, you were able to take assassins from the highest of ranks. Once your grandfather was satisfied, thus began your preparation for a leader. You were a natural. Your role was to follow your grandfather, grant him counsel, and even take part in some of the decision-making processes. Once, your grandfather had even gotten close to saying he was proud. Even went to say (in between the lines of course) that you had been able to surpass your brother in preparation. Since then, you understood that you no longer lived in Damian's shadow. A year had passed soon and your grandfather had announced that we would have a special coronation where you would be proclaimed as Heir.

That brought us here, to your coronation day. Your armor was specifically made to tailor you and your comfort for battle. Your hair, which had gotten quite long, was pulled into an intricate braid so that your face would be visible. You felt strong and that brought a smile to your face.

"You look radiant, my dear" you hear your mother say from behind you. "Thank you, Mother" You responded as she stood in front of you and caressed your face tenderly.

"Ma'am, you have some visitors" A voice was heard from outside the door. One of your assistants went to open the door and lo and behold…your family was there.

They entered slowly, one by one. Each suited up. "Beloved, those are not ceremonial robes" your mother reprimanded Damian, but he wasn't focused on her. He was focused on you.

"So, it is true then, sister," Damian asked feeling the air leave his chest. You were there, but it wasn't you. It couldn't be you. You were soft, kind, gentle, and tame, and you never raised your voice, you were you and this wasn't you. You looked stronger that's for sure. He wouldn't be surprised if their grandfather was injecting something into you. You looked like a member, no, scratch that, you looked like the heir. From the way you stood, with a sight upward til in your head, to the way you dressed. There was a sharpness in your eyes that told him that Ras had not been soft in your teachings.

"What is, Robin," you asked steadily. Gone was the girl who cried over her lost brother. Damian wouldn't admit it but he was hurt. Hearing you call him by his alias so coldly stung in ways he couldn't imagine.

"You truly are becoming the next Head of the Demon, Y/n?" This time the question came from Dick. The last months have been hell for all of them after the shock of your departure. It was as if someone had splashed all of them with a bucket of cold water and brought them back to reality. They had all visited your room at least once, would continually watch your ice skating videos, and would look at footage of you in the manor from the last years. They had desperately searched for a semblance of you in the entirety of the manor.

"Yes. What's it to you, Nightwing?" She responded once again coldly.

"Alfred misses you," It was Jason who spoke up this time. It was jarring to see the girl he once treated as his precious princess following the footsteps of someone so wretched.

"At least someone does. I couldn't visit because of my training. Once the ceremony is finalized, I will have more time and I will visit him" "So you will visit us at the manor-" "I will visit Alfred only. I have no other reason to do so," She interrupted Tim, with a heated gaze.

"What about your dreams of becoming a professional, (nickname)? It was all you ever wanted, you worked so hard for that. We all know, we all saw. This is not wh-"

"What do you know of me, Damian? What do any of you know about me?! We both arrived at the same. Time. And it appeared as if only you were there! Everyone favored you over me and why? Because you were fucking Robin and I wasn't? I tried to reach out. I invited you everywhere, I searched for you all everywhere, I asked and asked and the only thing that I ever received in return was disdain and silence. I only wanted to be loved, LOVED DAMIAN! What you got and I didn't! And if I tried to speak out, I was hushed because I had to be understanding of your processes. I WAS A CHILD HONED AS A WEAPON TOO. I went through everything you did too! And did any of you ever recognize that? NO! You stopped knowing me the moment you forgot you had a twin. You stopped knowing me when I came back and all of you were celebrating OUR birthday as if it was only you. You lost me the moment that you preferred seeing Jon over watching me compete at Nationals. You lost me when you left to see the Titans and I had to find out weeks later. You lost me when you decided that the love they gave you was yours alone and that I didn't deserve a fraction of it." She ranted and with her every word, Damian took a step back.

"You were always out training or with your friends-"

"Don't try to pin this on me, Damian Wayne. You all pushed me away." Y/n scoffed. "I invited you here because you are my mother's son. Not because I wanted you here. They were invited cordially because they are your family. Don't mistake my act of respect as an act of love."

"There are other ways, Y/n" Batman tried to intervene. Even if it didn't show, Bruce was hurting. He was deeply ashamed and disappointed at how things had turned out.

A bell sounded, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. Y/n straightened her back and turned towards her mother, a small smile present in her face. That smile, as much as it softened everyone's hearts, hardened the moment she turned to them,

"Batman, Red Hood, Nightwing, Red Robin, I will only say this once. I lack the care and mercy my grandfather and mother seem to have for you, with the small exception of Alfred and my brother. I will take this mantle. I will become the Heir to the Demon Head and I will be the next Leader of the League of Assassins. Those are facts that you will have to deal with. If you are here to cause a commotion, then I suggest you leave. I will not tell my assassins to hold back on their ways. If you'd like to stay, so be it. Enjoy the festivity. Have it very clear. I want all of you out. Of. My. Way. once I am the head. This is my birthright and I want it to have nothing with all of you." She started looking at Batman dead in the eye. "Nothing."

"My lady, everyone is expecting you" Came a voice from outside.

"Well, then. Let's go dear. You wouldn't want to have your grandfather waiting would you? Destiny awaits" said Talia as she ushered Y/n out of the room. She never spared a glance at the five men standing in front of her.

That day, they all watched from the sidelines as their sister was proclaimed Heir. Damian had failed and he was going to make sure he NEVER failed again. He was going to do everything in his power to fix the bridges that had been burnt with his sister. As much as Bruce wanted to reassure Damian that everything would be okay, he couldn't. It became clear to him that from now on when interacting with the League, they had to be extremely careful because his daughter could easily become as much an ally as she could be a formidable opponent. He never thought he'd say it but he was afraid of what his little girl could become.

---

Author's note: YES!!! I FINISHED IN ONE NIGHT!!! YESSSSS LAWRD!!!! HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED!! PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK!! I WOULD LOVE LOVE LOVE TO HEAR WHAT YOU ALL SAY!! LIKE AND REPOST! BESITOSSS!!

[jhdyuiee]

back to me

✮ pairing: actor!jaehyun x fem!reader

✮ tags/warnings: angst, fluff(ish), smut, unprotected sex, public sex(?), talks to pregnancy, fingering, oral (m receiving), kissing/making out, spanking, squirting

✮ w.c: 1.1k

✮ a.n: hi! im back with—unfortunately—a sad one. hope u enjoy this emotional roller coaster inspired by my favorite artist’s new song back to me by the maria’s! i love u all, stay safe & see u next time 🩶

“hands on the window.”

“w-what if th-they see us?” you asked, lost purely within the lust.

he doesn’t answer, working his fingers inside you instead as an answer.

“you’re so beautiful,” jaehyun whispered, giving kisses to your exposed skin.

his fingers pumping in and out, the squelching noise emitting loudly. your legs grew weak, after having already gone hours fucking you had no energy left in you anymore.

“you cumming already?” he says, kissing down your back until he’s on his knees.

and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers stop moving that you realized they were replaced by his tongue.

“mmm,” he vibrates against your cunt as he tastes your sweet juices.

“ja-jae” you moaned out his name, colliding with the cold window.

the coldness of the window adding to your pleasure. your body shook the more he fucked his tongue in and out of you. your gummy walls involuntarily clenching around him as he went deeper and deeper.

you began bucking yourself back into him, wanting nothing more but to reach your high again.

and with a hand traveling to your front where his fingers begin playing with your clit, you cum. liquid squirting onto the wooden floor and his face. he groans against you before licking up all your juices, cleaning you right up.

he gives a parting kiss to your sweet pussy and finally stands. his hands reach to your hips as he rubs his hardened member against your ass. you moaned his name with every teasing thrust from his cock.

“eyes to the window, don’t wanna miss out on the beautiful ocean view, right?” he muttered into your ear before lighting biting you.

your gaze turned to the ocean where you admired the glistening sea.

too lost in the ocean, until you feel his tip slipping in. “w-wait,” you moan, seeing as a couple walked along the shore.

however he ignores you pleas, yet doesn’t ignore the tightness wrapping his cock.

with hands gripping onto your hips, he thrusts himself in and out of you. a maddening pace, knocking you against the window again. your breast rubbing against the window, eliciting an unimaginable pleasure.

“god, jaehyun,” you moan, already forgetful of the couple outside.

engrossed in the way he kissed your womb, the way he fit perfectly inside of you. you tightened around him, feeling as he begins twitching inside.

“ready? gonna cum in you again, make sure you get nice and pregnant just like you wanted,” he says, giving a slap to your ass.

“ye-yes,” you moan.

jaehyun chuckles from behind before thrusting more roughly into you, going until he starts becoming uneven. you throw your back against him chest, his hands holding your breast as he spills his load inside you. feeling his warmth seeping into you.

“can’t wait,” he whispers breathlessly, “can’t wait to build a house down across the sea.”

“building a family, our family. us by each other’s side for all eternity.”

jaehyun’s lips find yours, kissing you gently, a kiss full of love. an unspoken promise, a future by each other's side.

epilogue.

“maybe it’s over.”

truly. perhaps it’s time to come to terms that this thing between you and him no longer exists.

“try to forget, it’s hard to accept.”

how could you forget him, forget the US you two had? having to accept that those almost 5 long years spent with one another, during all the downs and ups meant absolutely nothing.

it’s outrageous.

and just when you believed the love would stay, stay forever. it disappeared, he— jaehyun disappeared.

it’s been 3 years, THREE.

and you’re not getting any younger, the youth you had was robbed by him. the him before the spotlight.

yet as much as you hate the spotlight for ruining you two, you still can’t help but love the way he shines.

jaehyun. south korea’s top actor, the nation’s prince. the brightest star amongst them all.

he was going to be your ride to happily ever after. your husband, the man you’d wake up to every morning. the man who’d help raise the children you two made— the children you two had planned to bring into this world not so long ago.

“waiting by the altar, saying your name. can i have you?”

it was almost pathetic how stuck you were in the past, in the world that no longer existed, holding onto the hope that he’d come back to you.

“baby, come back to me.”

you whispered every night.

“i could build us a house down across the sea. i’d be there in a hurry.”

the desperation, the longing, the complete helplessness.

you prayed for him, prayed to trade anything else in your life for him to come back.

“promise i’ll stay.”

stay for eternity. but when you knew that eternity would never come, you slowly started losing the grip on the rope.

and,

“promise, i’m changing, back from the dark.”

“but, if i would see you, i’d fall apart.”

and that was exactly what happened. you saw him again. yet it was a rather tearful reunion.

he was across the street, and you’d already been a crying mess. the news articles guilty of causing such tears.

JEONG JAEHYUN TO BE MARRIED AND EXPECTING HIS FIRST CHILD!

the headlines read. it wasn’t just one, it was two, three, fifteen, twenty.

he was living out the life you two were supposed to have. the life you were supposed to be living, the one you two talked about nights on end.

“is she all that you want? is she all that you need?”

and though the news articles didn’t show her face, you saw her. she smiled brightly, and he smiled at her the same way he did to you not too long back.

your heart broke all the more as you watched them. finding yourself only muttering “jaehyun,” repeatedly.

and it was in no way within earshot, yet he heard. as he turned to his left, his eyes immediately found your watery ones. his face remained calm but you could still see how shocked he looked.

you could see the way his face fell seeing your teary face, the face he hated to see most in the world. and in truth he might always hate it, hating to see you hurt— to see you crumble and not being able to do anything about it.

she tries to tug on jaehyun’s hand when he still remains stilled in place. she doesn’t spot you and he doesn’t budge. he tries opening his mouth before closes it, nothing coming out.

you make the first move though. opening your mouth to say:

“i’m sorry. baby, come back to me.”

© jhdyuiee

2024. 04. 24

[whousestypewriters]

──── ୨ৎ RED WAS THE CARPET — GRAYSON HAWTHORNE + READER ‧₊˚

a/n: and everyone rejoiced. welcome back to the grayson series that is keeping you all alive bc it is shhh. lets all collectively ignore how i havent update this in a month but we move on and enjoy part threeeee !!! and pls forgive me idk anything abt events or red carpets so if i get anything wrong js pretend. also idk why but i love the title and the fact that is somehow makes zero sense and yet is still understandable i need to shut up ive rambled too much ENJOY (love you lots <33)

[part one] i'm a fan [part two] the book club

red was the carpet that you walked on earlier.

it matched your dress.

alya, your very annoying plus one for tonight was wearing black.

there was a lot of things that happened tonight. a lot of things you were never going to forget. everybody you met and talked with... especially one of them...

"oh my god, pheebs and ki are going to be so jealous," alya squeals - quietly of course, you're still surrounded by people, and although sometimes you think alya could actually fight god and win, in public, she's behaving surprisingly calm.

well calm adjacent.

its not exactly seen as calm and collected when you're jumping up and down every three seconds when you see another celebrity walk past preparing for the carpet.

to her credit though she has somehow managed to get the numbers of four actors and singers in the thirty minutes you've been here.

you were lined up at the end of the carpet along with a few other select interviewers, waiting for the start of the event. alya was a bundle of nerves when margot robbie and zendaya stopped for their interview barely getting a few words out and opting to just hold the camera instead.

when xander and jameson arrived though, that was a different story. you'd think they were life long friends. you chatted with max of course, promising to invite her to your next book sleepover, jameson was suspiciously quiet and smirk-y and xander kept looking over his shoulder a shit eating grin on his face.

you knew what was about to happen.

pictures don't do him justice.

that was to be expected, of course. you don't have millions of people following you, or watching your every move for no reason.

the screams on the red carpet, increased when he stepped foot on it, pleas to look at the camera, answer questions, how to pose, everything. he seemed to follow along well, looking hauntingly beautiful in his suit, his face practically carved but when he scanned the large crowd twice over before his eyes settled on you, it went quiet.

he smiled - and by the way it was really hot gorgeous - and you smiled back, a private moment between the two of you in the middle of chaos.

which was totally ruined when alya latched onto your arm and freaked out that she could see grayson.

"oh my god, he's like ten feet away. ohmygodohmygod!" she squealed.

"yeah i know, i can see him," you mutter back, attempting - and failing - to stop her jumping up and down.

"but he's like right there and he's looking at you!"

"i know."

"oh, oh, oh he's coming over to us now, oh my god i think i'm going to faint, hold me."

when the grayson hawthorne stopped in front of you a soft and rare smile on his face you faltered slightly - not because of alya standing there with her mouth agape, because... wow - before raising the microphone and starting.

"hi grayson, its lovely to meet you, i'm y/n."

yn.books

liked by alya.green, maxine.liu.loo, pheobethereader, kirasbooknook, graysonhawthorne, and 852, 679 others

yn.books im am honoured to have been invited to this event!! it was so lovely meeting everyone and asking you questions 🤍 (also kinda freaking out because i met anne hathaway omggg)

view all comments

user1 i see no mention of grayson......

user2 avoiding talking about a certain someone are we?

user3 if they didn't meet im actually going to riot, i'm shipping them so hard.

user4 we have confirmation from jameson that he was there... why didnt you talk to him....

user5 maybe she just didn't want to show that?? its not always about grayson

alya.green best night of my life.

maxine.lui.loo it was so good seeing you again babes <333

yn.books we should catch up while im still in texass

────

graysonhawthorne

liked by thehawthorneheiress, ticking.time.bomb, yn.books, kirasbooknook and 9, 853, 927 others

graysonhawthorne met some nice people tonight.

view all comments

user1 MET WHO GRAYSON??? MET WHO??

user2 ugh he's so delicious i love it

user3 everyone wake up grayson posted

user4 he better have met her or im going to quit

alya.green oh... i see how it is then.... i will do what i must...

user5 ALYA WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO??? OH MY GOD???

user6 ALYA ????

user7 in the likes she's in the likes againnnnn

────

[camera: on]

you should've know alya would have a shit eating grin the entire interview. it was tempting to punch her, very tempting.

"i honestly think divine rivals is my favorite book i've read this year," grayson's deep voice answers your question. his eyes stay on your face and he has a soft smile.

alya is elbowing you now. and you nudge her back as you ask your next question, smiling because now there are even more cameras on you.

"okay," you smile laughing nervously. "now i've asked everyone this tonight, i have a youtube channel."

"oh right yes, i follow you," grayson's voice is calm and his eyes are still on your face.

"you do?" with all of the things that are happening you weren't actually expecting him to be following you.

"yes, you're videos have become a guilty pleasure almost."

if anyone was wondering alya is losing her shit next to you. she has the biggest grin on her face, she's whipped out her camera and is taking an excessive amount of pictures.

"thats really sweet of you," a smile is present on your face now and you raise the microphone to ask your question, ignore the now fully smile grayson has on his face at your flustered-ness. "anyway my question was, do you have anything you want to say, a quote or just anything you like to tell the people watching?"

you turn the mic over to him and he looks down at you with a fond expression on his face - your insides are butterflies now - before looking at the camera.

"i'm going to say, you've made a good decision following this girl. she's a lovely person and keep supporting her," he pauses for a second, "and read divine rivals."

you laugh and nod at the camera, "i agree 100%." turning back to him you start. "well thank you for your time tonight, grayson, it was lovely to getting to know you," you look over to the over excited alya who's just standing back and nodding as if she's a proud mother. "and maybe we'll see you inside."

"hopefully we will," grayson smiles and waves slightly before moving on to the next interviewer.

[camera: off]

────

alya.green

liked by yn.books, maxine.liu.loo, pheobethereader, kirasbooknook, graysonhawthorne and 11, 483, 228 others

alya.green two things: 1, my dress tonight and 2, if they won't do it... i will.

tagged: graysonhawthorne, yn.books

view all comments

user1 OH SHE IS SO MESSY

user2 THIS IS THE QUEEN BEHAVIOUR I SUPPORT

user3 and when i tell you cackled BC LOOK AT THEIR SMILES. LOOK AT THE WAY SHES LOOKING AT HIM.

pheobethereader and you're officially invited back to the next book sleep over.

alya.green i don't need ur validation i dont have to come to the sleepovers

pheobethereader ok then :)

alya.green no wait i'll do anything i have like zero self respect when it comes to the sleepovers

user4 OH HELL YEAH THEY METTTT

ticking.time.bomb and then after the premier... the restaurant....?

alya.green all in due time my friend

user5 EXCUSE ME??? THE RESTAURANT WHAT HAPPENED???

user6 im going to need you to spill the tea RIGHT NOW

user7 the fact that they both liked this but didn't comment 😭😭

────

the restaurant was another story though, for another time.

a/n II: guys i lowkey hate it but i was determined to finish this so :)))

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @midiosaamor, @maybxlle @reminiscentreader, @sweetreveriee

@elysianwayy77 @tornqdowarnings, @catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @thelov3lybookworm,

@anotherwriternamedclara,

[not-rigel]

A Guest Lecture

ITS FINALLY HERE

tags: professor sevika AU, middle school teacher! reader, flirting, slight loser! sevika, trans! sevika, no smut, cuddling and kissing, ma'am used once for reader, explicitly written to be set in the US (sorry non-American readers but I took the opportunity to dig at my country's educational system)

a/n: I chose to not include smut in this because i felt it just would've taken away from it. im nonbinary and not a trans woman so I took so long trying to write sevika as delicately and respectfully as possible. i fully plan in making pt 2 with smut my loves i promise, if you see mistakes that wasnt me pls ignore them.

WC: 5.2k

You’re doing one last visual sweep over your classroom, making sure all the desks are aligned so all your students have a clear view of the podium. Your own desk is behind all of theirs, facing the podium as well. You flick the different light switches on and off to try and find the best lighting. After a minute you find the winning combination and the room is finally lecture ready. With the class ready for your guest, you dial the extension for the front office.

“Front Office,” the receptionist answers on the third ring. 

“Yes, hi. I have a guest, Dr. Sevika Walia, coming in to give a lecture for my advanced class. Can you send her to my room please? It’s room 206.” 

“Yup, she just checked in. I’ll send her over.” 

“Thank you.” 

Suddenly, your head pounds and it occurs to you that you used the lunch period to rearrange your classroom for the lecture. Fruit snacks and a granola bar from your snack bin will have to hold you over until your next free period. You're in the middle of munching on your granola bar when there's a knock at your door. You frantically wipe crumbs off yourself and rush to let Dr. Sevika in. 

She's not what you expected her to look like, well not that you really envisioned anything. For one, she's tall. Towering somewhere over six feet. She's quite polished, dressed in a black short sleeve button down blouse, tucked into maroon slacks. Her hair is short, a bit longer than a typical pixie, strands reaching just below her cheekbones. She has one piercing, a stud on her left nostril. Her coat sits draped over her shoulders, hiding her arms. 

“Hi, Professor Walia. Thank you again for agreeing to do this,” you reach out your hand for a handshake. Her right arm peeks out from where it is hiding and she takes your hand in hers. Her handshake is firm and speaks highly of her professionalism. You stand aside to hold the door open for her and, without meaning to, you catch the cleanest aroma you’ve smelt in a long time. Middle schoolers body odor is awful and Dr. Sevika is a refreshing change. 

“Hi, and it's my pleasure. I’m out of my element here, I haven't stepped foot in a middle school since I went to one,” she sighs, eyes sweeping over the posters on the walls and nostalgia sparkles in her eyes. Her voice is hypnotic, a perfect mix of feminine and gruff. 

“You haven't done guest lectures for middle schools before? I must ask, why'd you agree to this one?” 

“I enjoyed our emails. You were very convincing,” she admits and you feel a little warm at the smile she gives you. 

“I enjoyed them too, even though all your replies came at 2 in the morning,” you joke. She laughs and it's a beautiful sound. 

“Academics,” she says, lightly mocking your shared profession, “Do you have somewhere I can hang my coat?” 

“Yes, I can take it,” She hands you her coat and you turn your back to her to set it on your coat rack. “There's about ten minutes left before class starts. I hope you don’t mind but I forgot to eat something. I used most of lunch getting the room ready. You can set up while I eat.”

“Oh, no issue. Us educators forget things all the time. I forgot to charge my arm last night.” 

Charge her arm? It's not until you turn back to face her that you finally notice that she’s missing most of her left arm. You’re not sure how you didn't notice when she handed you her coat. Might have something to do with the chronic fatigue from being a teacher. 

“God, this is no fun. Usually I like to dramatically throw my coat off for a bionic arm reveal but I guess having no arm there isn't as exciting,” she complains, without a touch of sarcasm.

“I honestly didn't notice until you said something. I would've appreciated the dramatic reveal.” 

“You get it. You go ahead and eat, I'll get set up,” she nods at your half-eaten granola bar sat on your desk. You continue with your imitation of a lunch as she takes papers from her bag, laying them onto the podium. She also places a pair of glasses on her face, rectangular wire frames. By the time the bell rings Professor Sevika has her powerpoint projected on the screen behind her. 

You grab a bottle of hand sanitizer and stand at the door, holding it open for your students to enter. As each student returns from lunch, you greet them and squirt sanitizer into their palms. 

“Special guest today, best behavior.” 

“Take any seat.” 

“Hi sweetie. Enjoy your lunch?” 

One by one all the students find a desk and settle in as quietly as they can manage. They're always rowdy after lunch but today they know you need them to be respectful. When the bell rings you shut and lock the door, to avoid any distractions. 

You clap your hands, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, “Alright class, the day is finally here. We have our guest, Professor Walia, here to give us a lecture. She is going to tell us a bit about her degrees, her career and give us a little extra perspective. We've only got 50 minutes so hold your questions until the end. Got it?” 

All your students answer with “yes ma'am.”  

“Awesome. They're all yours, Dr.” You turn their attention to her and make your way back to your desk. 

“Thank you. Hello all, I am Dr. Sevika Walia. You can call me Dr. Sevika or Professor Sevika. A little bit about me, I first earned my BA in 2006 where I double majored in History and Anthropology, then eventually my Masters in 2008 and my PhD in Cultural History in 2016. I've been lecturing at the local university since 2017. When I'm not lecturing at the university or at home with my snake, I am writing, editing, peer-reviewing and publishing articles for scholarly journals.” 

You listen along with your students, occasionally checking to make sure no one has dozed off but they're all paying attention. And you understand why. Sevika is an amazing speaker. 

“Now earlier I mentioned my PhD is in Cultural History. And you must be thinking, what is the difference between ‘History’ and ‘Cultural History’? History, as we typically understand it, is explained as dynasties, battles, wars, the forming of civilization, of government. Which is lots of information but it's actually quite limited.” 

She goes on explaining there's dozens of different interpretations about conflict and events. Clicking through different slides to provide cultural interpretations of historical events you informed her your class recently studied. Something you coordinated over email. There's a serious passion about her, how she speaks about lost voices in history. About forgotten contexts. And for a moment, it feels good to pretend you're a student again. Your fingers itch like they should be taking notes.  

“The way I practice being a historian is getting away from the generalized, to not look at history through one lived human experience or context. The experiences we've been taught to associate with history should be questioned and the experiences we're not being taught needs to be sought out.” 

Again, you're in awe of her intelligence. You find a notepad, trying to scribble down her words before you forget them. 

“I feel a good historian is devoted to finding out the missing context, include those experiences in our process of interpretation. For decades, the United States curriculum has prioritized the experiences of white cisgender straight men to teach history. By including culture into our historical interpretations, we create a truer understanding of history.” 

She clicks to the final slide, a photo of her in her classroom sitting on her desk eating instant noodles. Most of the class giggles and you smile as well. She must've hoped this would go over well with your class because she has a proud smile on her face. 

“I'll take your questions now,” she tells the class and a bunch of hands shoot up. She calls on them one by one but the bell rings before she gets to all of them. 

“Before you go, please put your desks into six groups of four. If you need a pass, I'll write you one,” you call out to the class and they move their desks back into their regular places. A couple students get hall passes from you so they won't be counted as tardy for helping you organize the room. 

It's now your free period so you won't be expecting any incoming students for another 55 minutes. When they're all gone Professor Sevika lets out a heavy breath, stacking her papers neatly to place back into her bag.  

“Something wrong?” you ask. 

“Nothing like that. I was just nervous. Having a bunch of pre-teens stare at me was unsettling,” she explains while packing away her things. 

You chuckle, “That's how I felt my first year. I'm surrounded by preteens and teenagers all day long and I was fresh out of college and I felt like I couldn't connect with them. I considered quitting about three months in, I was just overwhelmed. But most of the teachers here are angels, they really got me through my first year. Stepping in when I needed a break, lending me supplies, giving me good advice. And now I see a therapist specifically for the stress of being a teacher. That's probably helped me the most.” 

She crosses the room, leaning onto your desk. She blinks a couple times before making eye contact. “I hope this isn't unwelcome advice but the best advice I got in my second year teaching was to not forget my personal life. I'm… let's just say I'm dedicated to my practice. I had to take a leave of absence while getting my PhD but still graduated on time. It exhausted me but I did it. Personal shit aside, my point is if you're drowning in work, remember to take time to be a person. You've already got support, they're not gonna let you drown.” 

Her advice is so genuine and personal it makes you want to know her, know more than a professor you emailed. Her passion in her work from the journals you read is what compelled you to reach out to her. But now that you're with her in person, you don't want to go back to emails. 

“Thank you, I'll remember that. So um, what's the rest of your day look like?” you ask. 

“Going back to my office for office hours, checking my email, giving a lecture, checking my email again, writing the next exam,” she lists off her tasks for the rest of the day. 

“And what about anything for yourself?” you remind her of her own advice. 

“I'll listen to jazz while working,” she shrugs. 

“Jazz?” you didn't peg her as the jazz type. You didn't consider yourself the jazz type so you're not really versed enough to know what a jazz person is like anyways. 

She sighs and pinches her nose, “Great, you're making the face.” 

“What face?” 

“The ‘I don't like jazz’ face,” she explains, pointing accusingly at you. 

“Well, yeah. I’ve never been into it.” 

“What? Jazz is soulful, it's an entire conversation. I'm in disbelief that everyone doesn't hear it that way. Have you ever been to live jazz?” 

You hesitate to answer but you're sure she already knows, “No.” 

“Then you can't say you don't like it. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be pretentious. But you genuinely need to experience jazz live at least once in your life. There's a club where a really good band plays. I want you to give it a chance. I'll email the details to you,” she looks at your clock on the wall. “I gotta leave for office hours. Eat your lunch and stay in touch, alright?” 

You're shocked that she still wants to talk to you, “Yeah, I'll talk to you later. And I'll eat my…lunch,” you look down at the packet of fruit snacks knowing you can't really call it a lunch. You might have the time to run to the breakroom to still have the one you packed. 

“Good,” she takes her coat from your rack and drapes it over her shoulders. She leaves and you know you'll be obsessively checking your email all day. 

Professor Sevika makes it to her office minutes before office hours begins, logging right onto her computer and opening her email. She types out all the details of the club, what days and times the band is playing. That she’ll pay your entrance fee. That if you really do hate jazz she can take you somewhere else. She clicks send and forces herself into work mode. The next two hours are spent reading and clearing her emails, no students visiting during office hours. But when she checks her inbox one last time before leaving for her lecture, she sees a reply from you. 

Hello Dr. Walia, 

I'd love to go with you. Should at least give live jazz a chance. I can do Thursday night. Thank you again for today.

You left your personal email and number as well. Sevika knows she's not going to be focused while giving the lecture. Is it… a date? She could've specified, should've. You said you'd love to go with her and that has to mean something. That wording can't just be casual, can it? She'll just have to wait a week to make a fool of herself in front of you, crushing on a middle school teacher.

And she feels like she shouldn't be crushing. You were so sweet in your emails, thanking her at every turn and helping her fine tune. You were so eager to give your students something special and Sevika wanted to deliver. She was just supposed to go in and do the lecture, all because she could tell you were a good teacher. But she wasn't supposed to find you so attractive the moment you opened the door. Then you had to go and be so honest with her about your struggles and she knew she needed you. And you knew you needed her from how genuinely she responded. 

So the both of you go on teaching your classes between sending emails and text messages all week long. Dancing the line of platonic conversation. 

Dozens of texts, calls and emails later, Thursday night arrives. Your phone vibrates with another text from her.  

I'm waiting by the front entrance. 

You're scrambling out from your car, having  to circle the block 5 times to find a parking spot. You don't bother with texting back, instead hitting the call button. She answers within two rings. 

“Hey, are you nearby?” 

“Yeah, I had some trouble finding parking but I'm walking over now,” you tell her what street you're on and she directs you on where to go, “Turning the corner and… okay I think I see you.” 

Standing beneath a lit neon sign is Sevika, leaning against a wall. She's dressed casually, turtleneck sweater and blue jeans. Her prosthetic is charged today, her sleeve is rolled up so you can see most of the intricate machinery. She looks around and when she spots you she ends the call and jogs over to meet you. She looks slightly different somehow but you cannot place your finger on what's changed. She checks you out, looking you over head to toe twice. 

“Just in time. You look really good. I'm so excited. You're gonna love it, I promise,” she says, offering her arm for you to take. You wrap your hand over her bicep and the muscle is thick and firm. 

She walks you into the club, paying both your entrance fees at the door. She leads you through the club to the stage where the band is finishing setting up. You really did arrive just in time as moments after you take your seat, the saxophonist introduces the band. 

The band is a quartet; tenor saxophone, piano, double bass and drums. When they begin to play it just sounds like jazz to you, nothing new or special. But halfway through the song you begin to hear a conversation, tones of pure expression filling the room. You don't hear each note, they're far too fast and messy to catch. But the way they play together is so precise, the pianist playing to sweeten the joy of the saxophone. It clicks in your mind that you will never hear anything like this again, it's too intimate and special. 

You lean over, whispering into Sevika's ear, “Thank you.” 

She turns her head to look at you and your faces are centimeters apart. For a moment, you just look at each other. Sevika looking for genuine interest and you looking at the softness in her eyes. She swallows, at a complete loss for words. You're looking at her so sweetly, ‘you're welcome’ or ‘don't mention it’ as a response feels inadequate.  

You place a hand on hers, “I really mean it, thank you.”

Sevika's fucked because now all she can think about is kissing you. So she goes with the inadequate response, “You're welcome. I mean it.” 

You return to listening to the music, trying to appreciate as much as you can. Sevika's attention is divided, shifting in her seat to take pressure off her erection. A touch on the hand shouldn't be enough to make her so hard but she hasn't had a date go so well since, well ever. And this barely counts as a date in her mind, she never formally asked you. 

She lays her jacket over her lap and prays you don't notice how tense she is. You never catch on, too immersed in music. Half an hour later, the band thanks you for being a wonderful crowd and wishes you a good night. You don't want the night to end. You want to know what other beautiful things Sevika has to show you. 

“Told you they're a good band,” she says as she offers her arm to you again. You take it and leave the club, gushing over how good the music was. Sevika chuckles at your excitement, you're squeezing her bicep every other sentence. When you make it outside Sevika turns to you. “Where are you parked? I'll walk you.” It's not an offer.  

You lead her to where you're parked, talking the entire way over. At some point the conversation shifts to farmer's markets. When you make it to your car Sevika digs into her pocket for her wallet. She pulls out a 20 and hands it to you, “For gas.” 

“Oh no, I can't,” you try to reject the money. 

“In this economy and on your middle school teacher salary, you're taking the money. Or I won't be able to sleep tonight.” 

“Fine, I'll take it. But I'll find a way to pay you back. Actually, what are you doing this Saturday?” 

“Nothing,” she lies. If you're the one asking her what she's doing, the answer will always be nothing. She's not going to spend all day working if she could be spending time with you. 

“Well I've got grading to do but afterwards I've got some time. You can choose what we do but I'll be paying. It's only fair,” you propose. 

“Well, what if I just want you to come over. Watch a couple movies,” is her counter-offer. It's also a leap of faith, she's still stupidly convinced that her feelings are unreciprocated. 

“Then I'll order in some food. Does that work?” 

“That works.” Her leap of faith paid off, you agreed to come to her house. 

“Good. It's a date.” You officially confirm it out loud. You've picked up on a few signs from her over the night. Her smile when you squeezed her bicep. Her eyes darting to your lips when you placed your hand on hers to thank her. The nervous glint in her eyes as she looks at you now. It's all so endearing, how cluelessly obvious she's been all night. 

“By the way, I think you're cute when you're flustered. And,” you pause and take a step forward, “I think you're really hot when you're criticizing standardized textbooks.” 

Sevika's face is warm, she feels like a teenager from how hard she is blushing,“Thanks. And if that second part about how I changed your kids' perception of George Washington I'm honestly not sorry,” that oh so loved passion of her returns, like she's giving a verbal lashing to George Washington himself. 

“It's hot that you're not sorry,” you step even closer and that cute flustered face returns and you need to kiss her. You finally notice what was slightly changed from the first time you met her. She has a lip piercing, a labret that sparkles so enticingly at you. She probably switches it out for clear jewellery when she's working. “Would you like to kiss me?” 

“Please.” 

You take a final step towards her and place your hands on her shoulders. Sevika swallows her hesitation to sit with the butterflies in her stomach. She meets you halfway, you tilt your head up as hers ducks down. The kiss begins slowly and explorative but soon both of you give up entirely on going slow. Sevika is so intense in every capacity, intensely devoted and intensely feeling, so you need to give her all that intensity back. The fervor between you bursts like fireworks. As the initial explosion settles and calms, little sparkles rain down and daze you. You swear you can feel them tickling your cheek then you realize it's her hair. Sevika's lips completely savor yours, ensuring this moment will last forever in her mind. 

But the moment is rudely interrupted, a passing car honks at the two of you. Sevika glares at the driver, angered that the highlight of her week was cut short. But the memory in progress is made sweet again with your laughter. 

“Sorry, it's just,” you pause to catch your breath from the giggles, “you look ready to murder that guy.” 

She finally finds the humor in the situation and snorts, “I might've felt an urge for violence. Honestly, I might sic my niece on him.” You're delighted to learn she has a niece and curious about what threat she might pose. 

“You don't need to do that. Karma will get him.” 

“You're right. It's getting late. You better get home. It's a school night, after all.” She gently nudges you by the shoulder toward your car. You’re not ready to leave, but you know it's late and your morning starts at 5:30. You decide she's right and it's time for you to leave but you need one last thing. 

“One more kiss? For the road-” you don't even get to finish your sentence as Sevika's lips cover yours. This kiss is short, sweet, firm and plenty worthwhile. Sure to keep you content until you see her again. 

Sevika steps back, more for her own self control. “Text me when you get home, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod. You find your keys and enter your car but Sevika holds the door open. 

“One more,” she sighs, crouching down to plant one final, quick kiss onto your lips. She shuts the door for you and motions for you to fasten your seatbelt. She watches as you back out of the parking space and drive off, not looking away until you've turned the corner out of her sight. 

Fridays never felt long to you. With the school buzzing with preteens excited for the weekend, their joy is usually so contagious that your day flies by. This Friday felt long however, you were too aware of each minute that passed and it only made them drag even longer. Saturday morning is almost worse. Sevika is on your mind every minute you spend grading. Each assignment takes twice as long as usual to mark for wrong answers. Each question on the assignment makes you miss her mind, miss her perspective. You work through the distraction and finish by 3pm. 

You find your phone, which you left charging in your bedroom, and text Sevika that your afternoon is now free. She responds with her address, followed with ‘Please tell me the drive isn't that far. I miss you so much I'll die if I have to wait any longer.’ 

It's good to know she's just as anxious to see you. You've been head over heels for her, feeling crushing in quickly but too strong to understand at this point. You copy and paste her address into your navigation app and it's a twenty minute drive. 

You text her your ETA as you enter your car. Your navigation app slightly lied to you as you make it to her house in twenty five minutes. Sevika must've heard you pull into her driveway, she's rushing out her front door to greet you and at your door before you can shift gears into park. 

“Sevika! I could've hit you!” you scold her as you exit your car. 

“You weren't going to hit me,” she assures you, “Let's get inside. I missed you so much I might kiss you in front of all my neighbors.” 

“Might? I want you to kiss me in front of your neighbors,” you laugh at the impatient way she tries to lead you away from your car. 

She ceases her efforts to nudge you into her home, choosing to turn you toward her and cup your jaw in her hand, “Have I told you that I love your laugh yet?” 

You laugh even more, mostly at her sudden ability to be suave with her words, “No, but I'd love to hear more.” 

“You laugh before I even realize what's funny. I love your laugh,” she tells you with a peck to your nose. And the perfect laugh you give her is rewarded with a kiss to your cheek. 

You sigh, breathing to give the ache in your side some relief, “I missed you too. So much. God, I could hardly grade because the Industrial Revolution makes me think of you.” 

Sevika snorts, “Oh no, not the Industrial Revolution. I'm flattered that you were thinking of me but I don't know how I feel about being associated with the Industrial Revolution.” 

You can tell she's only pretending to be offended, “Oh Professor, what's so bad about being associated with the Industrial Revolution? Is it the smog?” 

“Fine, nothing wrong with being associated with the Industrial Revolution. The real issue here is… who gave you the right to make ‘Professor’ sound so hot? I hear that word dozens of times a day and it has never sounded that sexy.” 

“We should get inside, Professor. Or I'll kiss you in front of your neighbors.” You move her hand from your face and hold it in yours, leading her inside. 

Once you're both indoors, Sevika gives you a quick tour of her home. You get to see her bathroom, her study, her two car garage that doubles as her at home gym, her guest bedroom, and end the tour in her living room. 

“My vote for the first movie is Legally Blonde. If you have another suggestion, throw it at me,” she says while grabbing the remote from her coffee table. 

“Yes! I fucking love Legally Blonde!” 

“Perfect, get comfy,” she invites you over to sit on the couch with her. You sit a respectful distance from her, but she shifts her legs so her knee presses into yours. You move a little closer as she starts the movie. 

Sevika keeps pointing out little details in the film, some you already know. You've both seen the movie before so you don't mind talking through it. When you get to the studying montage it reminds you of something you've been meaning to ask her. 

“What was college like for you? Did you ever miss out on social events to study? Wait, were you in greek life at all?” 

“Ha! No I wasn't in a sorority or anything like that. I wasn't very social my freshman year,” she pauses and frowns like she's trying to recall a memory, “Yeah, this counts as a second date which is usually when I disclose this so you're right on time for this conversation. So I am a trans woman. And I was 23 when I could finally afford a higher education. At that point I was around 4 years into my transition and I was still still finding my confidence.” 

You move even closer to her, needing to listen. 

“I grew up really poor in a town where everyone knew everyone's business so University was a massive change for me and I had a horrible time adjusting. But sophomore year I finally got out. Mostly bars, but I got out. My junior year, I feel, is where I really found my confidence. By that point, I only went to a lesbian bar, it's still there, and one night I was talking with a friend of mine, fellow trans lady, about life and how I was struggling with balancing my femininity and masculinity. And she genuinely changed my life when she said this,” Sevika shifts her weight so she can fully face you, “She said ‘I think not enough trans women realize that we can be butch too.’ and it resonated with me. And now, being butch is the most comfortable and complete I've ever felt in my femininity.” 

You don't want to say it now but you're falling hard for her. She came out to you so matter-of-factly and vulnerably so you feel you need to match that energy. You place a hand on her knee, rubbing smooth circles over the fabric of her sweatpants.

“I've always thought that being butch is very beautiful and now… I guess I get to see how beautiful being trans and butch is. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, genuinely.” 

Sevika pulls you in by your shoulders and to her chest for a hug. You wrap your arms around her and feel her relax in your embrace. You stay like that for a long time hearing the movie play in the background. The only sound you're listening to is her breathing and heartbeat. Neither of you want to be the first to pull away. 

“I don't know about you but my leg fell asleep about five minutes ago,” Sevika mumbles. 

“Shit, I'm sorry!” you move your weight off her and see how uncomfortably she's been sitting. 

“Why are you apologizing? I'm the one who didn't say anything for five minutes!” she corrects and the two of you rearrange how you're sitting on the couch.  

“I still feel like apologizing! I'm sorry!” 

“Stop saying sorry!” Sevika silences your next apology with a kiss. You immediately sigh and melt into her, hands cupping her face. You pull away to give her nose a little kiss, a little promise of a third date. 

divider by @cafekitsune taglist: @archangeldyke-all @maneskinwh0re @ennabear

[miajooz]

Hey pretty

How are you today ? Hope you are doing amazing! So I have a request that I don't know if it's your cup of tea so feel free to ignore this.❤

How would you feel on modern!AU ellie and reader who where eachothers first loves meeting again after many years both having a family and talk with so much love to each other and it's angsty and lalalandish if you know what I mean . Anyway thats it !

Because I loved you first

warnings 𖤓 - not many warnings, just angst and fluff! use of y/n a few times—topics of homophobia, alcohol, and drugs mentioned. - wc: 5.8k

extra 𖤓- thank you so much for the request, beautiful. IM SO GRATEFUL!! i also wrote this while waiting on the poll for gamer!ellie, so i promise ill start writing when i see the results! anyways, i hope this is to your liking!

you know what people say about your first love—well—they say a lot of things. many theories suggest that you never get over your first love, even if you have a knew lover. your first love is the birth of all your feelings, the place where all those ideas and expectations for what you want in a relationship really bloom. that’s because you see it first hand, you see your cards laid out and how each of you play them to form a functional relationship.

even the toxic relationships with no functionality are remembered. is it to say they’re remembered for the sole purpose that they were toxic and messy? or maybe it’s for the same reasons as how you remember any first love. sure, you remember the bad parts, that’s the most obvious part of a toxic relationship. but what about the similarities? every relationship with a first love is different, different people have different experiences—that’s common knowledge.

but what about the similarities? more specifically, heartbreak.

heartbreak is at the end of all these kinds of relationships, though some feel heartbreak throughout a relationship. at least one of you has to feel it, it also seems to be a common theme in lesbian couples. not to be stereotypical per se, but something about these relationships feels so forbidden; even in modern times. it all depends on your environment, it doesn’t matter that it’s more normalized now. maybe it’s because you’re still figuring out yourself when you’re with your first love, even more so if you’re trying to put a pin on what your sexuality is.

that’s why when things end, it feels like you’ve lost a piece of yourself. the piece of yourself and the front you made for this amazing person in your life, is gone. it’s irrelevant to hold onto such passions and ideals when the person they were intended for isn’t in your life anymore. so yeah, in simple terms: it’s as if you’ve lost a piece of yourself. but what are you to do when you’re left questioning who you are again?

break ups happen for many reasons, sometimes you get bored, some cheat, some abuse, the reasons are endless. but what about the people who don’t have a say in their own relationship? what about the people who have to sit back and watch everything they built with the love of their life be torn from their hands with no warning. even if there’s a warning, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

your first love embeds vivid memories into your brain, memories and feelings you can’t forget in situations like yours. your first love can become an extension of yourself, it’s such a profound experience you can’t help but feel as though it’ll never be replicated, as if you’ll never feel that way again. there’s a mold your first love makes, a mold that your relationships afterwards follow. maybe that’s why you can’t forget. the root, the heart, the soul, all of the foundation for your next relationships are built off your first one. it’s like an answer key, because you know what you want.

especially if nothing went wrong, then you really had everything you wanted.

that’s what happened to you and ellie. you both met in high school, she wanted to major in astronomy and you wanted to major in psychology. the two of you were good friends before, but the friendship faded after the two of you hung out alone so many times. the friendship developed into something much more, it was almost as if it was destined.

in your case, you had your future practically planned out for you. your parents had such old, traditional ideals; it was suffocating. everyday of your life felt like playing dolls, like you were a puppet in a big show for everybody to cast expectations and ideals on in the name of legacy. they wanted you to have a husband and kids, safe to say they didn’t want you to go to college—let alone have a girlfriend. but somewhere in your delusional mind, you thought maybe you’d have control over your life for once.

your life ended the day you had that sleepover with ellie. the sleepover you hosted at your house, it was new year’s eve . new year’s eve was a fun night, you could watch the fireworks with the love of your life on your balcony and talk about everything and anything. the fireworks were so beautiful that night, but not nearly as beautiful as ellie. the way her messy hair framed her face and blew in the slight, cold breeze. the way you’d occasionally feel her green eyes locked on you. what an entrancing woman, how’d you get so lucky?

your head was raised high, your eyes tracing all the beautiful bursts of color and life that people shot into the sky. the distant cheers of children cheering and screaming in excitement over a new year. a fresh start for some people, but not to you. to you, this was a start to taking control of your life. you’d work to grow more with ellie, get a house, live happily. that’s what you both wanted, you just wanted to be happy.

but hope was a curse, a curse that made you think things would be okay in situations that would never be okay.

ellie wasn’t watching the fireworks, well—maybe she was. but she was watching them through your eyes, the way your pupils expanded and reflected the rainbow colors shooting into the sky from all directions. you had such a calm, peaceful look on your face. her heart just swelled, you were so beautiful she wanted to cry.

she reached her hand towards you a bit until they connected, interlocking your fingers. that snapped you out of your mesmerized state, the colors fading from your pupils as you looked at her instead. her green eyes were reflecting yours, a beautiful mirror that told so many stories and so many feelings.

“you’re so beautiful.” she murmured, her body quite close to yours. her grip on your hand tightened a bit, those beautiful green eyes looking at you like you were a work of art. like she was at a museum looking at an ancient greek statute, like you were gifted by aphrodite herself.

all you could do was smile, your face was so soft and filled with genuine love. she was the love of your life, there was no doubt about that. you let out a short laugh, leaning in to kiss her. your lips connected softly, it was a gentle kiss that spoke so many unspoken words.

it looked like a scene from a romance movie, you never felt so much love for a person—not ever. your lips were soft against her chapped ones, almost symbolic in the way of healing. the kiss wasn’t very progressive, you kind of just sat there and kissed her over and over again.

that’s when the door to your bedroom creaked open, though you didn’t notice. you were too focused on ellie to care about anything else, plus, how could a door opening be heard over booming fireworks clouding your senses?

in the doorway was your mother, the look on her face could be described as horrified. ellie seemed to know something was up from the shift in energy, she opened her eyes slightly and broke the kiss, looking over her shoulder. there was your mother, standing in the doorway like she just saw somebody dead on the floor. as if ellie just murdered her daughter.

you immediately got curious when ellie broke the kiss, so you mirrored her actions.

your heart dropped to your chest, oh my god.

“shit..” you mumbled under your breath, looking at your mother with an equally horrified expression. this couldn’t be happening, why did things have to go so wrong? you tried to pull your hand away, but ellie didn’t let you. seriously, what was there to hide now?

“mom—“ you started, but you were quickly cut off by her angry voice. this was not good.

“what the hell is this, y/n?! did you just kiss that girl?!” she asked in utter shock and disappointment. that wasn’t the part that hurt you, the disgusted undertone is what hurt. as if you could describe something so blatantly obvious an undertone.

“mom, she’s my girlfriend. i didn’t think it would be a big deal.” you tried to reassure her, brushing it off as casual. why wouldn’t it be casual? was it a crime to love somebody? but you knew it was in her eyes, in the eyes of somebody like her.

your mother wasn’t having it, she looked between you and ellie with utter repulsion. ellie bit her cheek as to soothe her nerves, this was a very awkward situation for her. what made it harder was how upset you looked,

that alone hurt, it hurt a lot.

“oh, so sneaking around behind my back is okay?” she stared, her manufactured fingers pointing at your direction in a scrutinizing way. her eyes locked on ellie, narrowed in disdain and anger. “get out, get out of my house.”

you’re jaw dropped a bit, you were furious. she stared at your mother wide eyed, torn between letting go of your hand and leaving or staying to fight this. ellie couldn’t leave you behind, that wasn’t the type of person she was.

“what the hell is wrong with you, mom?! she’s my girlfriend!” you argued, stepping in front of ellie a bit. you never raised your voice at your mother before, but this situation seemed fit. as you saw it, respect was earned, not given.

your mother was livid, especially since your reaction was so raw and angry. over a girl? repulsive. “no, no she’s not. not anymore, you’re breaking up with her now.” she said firmly, not even hesitating when she saw your hurt expression. “you will have a husband, i won’t allow such sin and shamefulness in my household. do you want to be kicked out?!”

your face dropped, kicked out? you knew how your mother could be, she’d strip you of everything you knew and loved if it didn’t align with her. did she seriously want to kick you out over this? you’d be on the streets, you were still 17. ellie couldn’t take you in either, she was going off to college in three weeks.

before you could argue back, ellie did. “what the actual fuck is wrong with you?! did you have her just to control her life?!” she yelled, trying to charge towards your mother, but you held her back. you tried to intervene but it was no use.

your mother looked appalled, the shift in her expression made your blood run cold. “get the hell out of my house, you’ve corrupted my daughter.” she accused, her eyes falling on you next. “if you don’t break up with her i’m kicking you out.”

those words rung in your head over and over, it was as if time slowed. you almost thought it’d be worth it. you couldn’t lose ellie, she was absolutely everything to you. she was the only person in your life who genuinely made you feel like you mattered. but you couldn’t argue this, your mother was a stubborn as a rock.

ellie was shocked, this was absolutely unreal. she didn’t want to do all of this in front of your mother. she let out a shaky sigh before gripping your hand much tighter. “fine.” she said begrudgingly, immediately pulling you towards the door. she pushed your mother out of the way, looking over her shoulder as you walked through the house.

you were in your front yard now, since that’s where ellie dragged you. you were sobbing at this point, crouched down with her and clinging onto her like a lifeline. this was the hardest moment of your life. as much as you wanted to stay with ellie, that wasn’t realistic.

“please, please don’t leave me. i love you so much.” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. your mother was watching through some window, her expression cold and angry. but you didn’t care, and neither did ellie. all she could worry about was you and your well being—what would happen if you were actually kicked out. seeing you cry so hard and the idea of having to leave you had her sobbing as well.

ellie shushed you, running her hands up and down your arms comfortingly. but it didn’t do much, especially since she was crying herself. “shh, it’s okay, baby. i love you too, i love you so, so much.”

those words were so unbearably painful to hear, you couldn’t even breathe, let alone form a decent thought or sentence besides a plea. your heart felt like it was squeezing every ounce of joy in your life out and into a dumpster. it felt like everything you did was being destroyed in front of you helplessly.

“please don’t leave me.” you repeated, unsure what else to say. “please don’t leave me.” you had mascara streaming down your face messily, it was a devastating sight to your girlfriend.

ellie’s heart was torn to shreds, watching her person in so much pain was too much. she wiped some of the mascara with her thumb, though it didn’t do much. maybe she just wanted to touch you.

“i know, baby. i’m so sorry.” she murmured, her hands lingering on your face. “please don’t cry, you look so pretty tonight.”

those words only made you sob harder, even more so when you saw her shift. why was she standing up, she couldn’t possibly be leaving, right? you let out some sort of strangled cry, desperately reaching for her. you didn’t allow her to stand up all the way.

“no, no! ellie, ellie—please!” you sobbed, desperately clinging onto her shirt. ellie’s face contorted into one of pure devastation, like she just lost everything she loved. she did, you were her whole world and more. she leaned down a bit, her eyes sympathetic and spilling out tears. then your lips connected, but it wasn’t as comforting as the one from earlier. she kissed you softly, and then she stood up.

you choked out another loud cry, reaching for her like she was about to run into a battlefield. “i love you, i love you so much, okay?“ she was wiping the tears from her eyes as they fell. watching your crumbled form on the floor, she couldn’t take it. she looked up at the sky, the fireworks booming now just felt like stabs to her heart.

before you could protest, she was walking towards her car. you reached out for her and weakly screamed, unable to form a coherent sentence—not even a plea. this was the hardest thing ellie had ever done in her life, but it had to be done. she couldn’t allow herself to be the reason your life went to shit, no, you deserved much better than that.

when she drove away, all you did was cry in your front lawn. hunched over, hands on your head, sobbing. it was the kind of sobbing that knew no bounds, the kind that poured out of you in a way you didn’t know was possible.

oh, ellie. the love of your life, your soulmate. yeah, you were lost again for sure.

so..how did you end up here? this was quite a few years later. ellie was gone, but she never left your mind. that night never left your mind, the night where you lost yourself again in a way you didn’t know was possible. but ellie wasn’t in a much better place, starting college after suffering such a heartbreak wasn’t easy.

every new years felt like a stab to the chest, the memory faded over time but of course it was never gone. that was the woman who shaped your identity, who taught you what loving somebody actually meant. forgetting was impossible—all because you loved her. all because she was your first, all because she was the reason you felt even a sliver of comfort in your fake, dollhouse of a life.

where was that same comfort when your mother arranged for you to marry a man? a wealthy man, sure, but it wasn’t ellie. ellie made you feel wealthy in a way that wasn’t financial, you felt rich because you had the best girlfriend in the history of the universe. this random man was nothing to you, the feeling was mutual. that nothingness for him continued even when you had your beautiful daughter. but you loved her, even if she was created from such a cold, heartless man.

in a picture, your life looked so perfect. you had a rich husband and a beautiful daughter, what more could you want? but it wasn’t perfect, not when you weren’t loved, not when your so called husband was running off with other women anyways—not that you cared, but it just highlighted how fucked up your life really was. you didn’t want much, it’s not like you wanted the world. you just wanted the love of your life back, the only person on this earth who actually cared about you wasn’t there. you didn’t even get to go to college, your life was a living hell. you didn’t get to pursue the one thing you wanted besides ellie, you had absolutely nothing besides your daughter.

ellie’s life wasn’t much better, even if she had the freedom you didn’t have. she was with a woman named dina, the two of them were raising a baby together. but when ellie lost her adoptive father, things went downhill fast. she wasn’t the same woman, she couldn’t sleep or eat or even function. she started partaking in self sabotaging habits like drinking and drugs. she never took any of her anger out on dina, but she still couldn’t take it anymore.

dina made the hard decision to break up with ellie, it wasn’t going well and she had to do what was best for her son, jj. ellie understood, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. she still visited dina and jj sometimes when she was well, but it didn’t make her feel any less lonely. she was all by herself, stuck in an empty house with empty bottles.

she knew she was hurting everyone around her, but she was so stuck in that hole. that hole of depression and loneliness that isolation caused. that hole was almost impossible to escape alone, that’s why isolation is such an issue when you’re depressed. usually when she was drunk and hazy, crying on the couch in an empty house, her thoughts would drift back to you. they’re drift to that night where she had to just walk away, regretting everything she did. even if it was for the best, it hurt. in her dark moments, you were always there. but where were you now?

so, again, how did you get here? how did you manage to find yourself standing face to face with your first love, how did you manage to look her in the eyes? it was some sort of new year’s eve party at a park, people were celebrating and partying. once again, it felt like a fresh start for everybody but you. your friends dragged you along so you wouldn’t be trapped in your house on new year’s eve. you left your bastard of a husband to babysit your daughter while you left to go have fun—or at least try to.

ellie was here on her own accord. new year’s eve was so hard now, she figured forming more positive memories around it would he beneficial. but when she saw you, everything changed. it was a like a switch in her mind just flipped, was she hallucinating? she didn’t recall taking any hallucinogens, did someone slip one in her drink? she wouldn’t put it past her if she was hallucinating you, considering you were always on her mind. perhaps the lack of sleep and stress was getting to her, because this couldn’t be real.

so she stood there, her slightly veiny hands gripping her drink tightly. she was wearing wearing a brown, leather jacket with slight fur or sherpa on the insides and collar. her jeans were a pale, washed out color—this was an outfit joel would usually wear, as if that was comforting her in any way. her expression was wide eyes, her jaw slightly agape. so many feelings rushed through her body at that moment, feelings she was trying so hard to forget.

you were just as shocked, your drink falling out of your hands and shattering on the concrete. was this seriously happening? you were in a tight, purple, silk dress. it wasn’t too short, but it rested on your thighs nicely. your outfit screamed class and wealth, which wasn’t exactly wrong. the pearls and endless jewelry adorning your body further pushed that idea.

for awhile you just stared, neither of you speaking first, what was there to say? this was the woman you were yearning for the past 7 years of your hellish life, the woman who started everything for you. this was the woman who showed you what it felt like to be loved, the woman you dreamed of finding again. how was this so..normal? in your mind, she was across the damn world—but she was just right here. you dreamed of finding her again, and now you did—in such a strange setting.

ellie stared back, the urge to go chug alcohol until she blacked out was overwhelming. that seemed to be a more prominent urge as of recently. she didn’t wanna feel those emotions again, but she couldn’t help but feel relief. you looked okay, you seemed to be in a good situation which was relieving to her worrying mind.

a good situation—in the sense you looked healthy.

“ellie?” you questioned, your voice soft as it cut through the deafening silence between you two. ellie didn’t respond at first, her mouth was open in preparation to say something—but it was hard.

“hey..” she managed, her tone soft and laced with nervousness. but somehow it didn’t feel awkward, simply speaking to her again just felt so natural.

“what are you doing here? i didn’t—“ you let out a. shaky breath to which she noticed, “i didn’t think i’d see you here.”

ellie let out a small scoff, her lips curled into a soft smile. it was barely visible, but she used to always smile around you. your heart sunk, some sort of noise lodged in your throat. “just..drinking, i guess. what’re you doing here?”

you let out a small laugh, your manufactured hands fidgeting in front of you. “we’re in the same boat.” you said smoothly—or at least you tried to say smoothly.

“how have you been?“ she asked, her head tilted to the side a bit. she held her drink in her hands, unable to even think about it. all she could think about was how pretty you looked in that dress. was it too soon to say she wanted you back? too soon was bullshit, shes wanted you back ever since that night.

there was silence on your end. you couldn’t lie to her, but how could you tell her how much of a mess your life was? yet you did it anyways, as if you believed she could save you. “i..uh, i have a daughter now..” you started, clearing your throat. “but i didn’t get to go to college.”

ellie’s eyes were widened, a daughter? that hurt, that hurt a lot. did that mean you were currently with somebody? in her mind she still had a chance to get you back, this was a very defeating loss. but she tried not to assume, she didn’t know your situation yet. she pushed that feeling away, especially when she saw how troubled you looked. hearing that you didn’t get to go to college upset her, mainly because she knew psychology was a huge passion of yours. she instantly knew it was your mother’s doing.

“a daughter, huh? congrats.” she praised, the smile on her lips was much bigger now. she let it fade a bit so she could address the college topic more seriously, “why didn’t you go to school?”

you swallowed thickly, clearing your throat to mask the nerves, “my mom arranged me to marry my current husband, so..” you mumbled, “so i wasn’t able to go to college.”

this seemed to piss ellie off a lot, you could tell by the ‘subtle’ way she tightened her grip on her drink. but it was understandable, this situation was absolutely ridiculous. maybe it was ellie’s natural hatred for your mother because of that one new year’s eve night, but she was livid.

“are you fucking kidding me?” she questioned in disbelief, her voice was laced with anger and maybe something like disappointment. she knew how smart you were, it was upsetting to see somebody with such big dreams and ambitions trapped in a life they never wanted. “wow, i’m so sorry.” she rubbed the back of her neck softly, unable to really emphasize her sympathy. but you understood, you understood the ways ellie expressed herself and emotions even after so long.

you offered her a small smile, trying to be reassuring—if possible. “it’s alright, i’m happy to have my daughter in my life.” you explained, which was definitely true, “how have you been?”

now it was ellie’s turn to be silent, and of course you noticed the mood shift immediately. she brought her glass up to her lips and took a sip, her eyes didn’t leave yours for a single second. she took two sips before sighing and holding the glass in front of her. she was acting like a husband who was sick of their wife and kids or something.

“ah, not great. joel actually passed away a few months ago.” she explained, trying to keep her whole demeanor and voice level. but it was hard, you could hear the way her voice cracked in vulnerability when she spoke his name.

you were genuinely shocked by this, upon doing the math in your head, you realized joel was probably around 55 years old. that was young, how utterly heartbreaking. you had a lot of good memories with joel, even if him and ellie didn’t get along all the time—he accepted you two. he was the biggest supporter when the two of you broke up, but you didn’t know that. you didn’t know that he also tried to contact you and check up on you. but your mother stopped that, evil witch.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry, ellie.” you offered, immediately stepping closer to her and rubbing her arm comfortingly—it was like how she comforted you on the night she left you. rubbing your shoulders like you were a fragile work of art. it seemed to work, because she perked up immediately. her eyes fell on the hand that was now caressing her arm, the feeling was so natural but so distant. she missed this, she missed how softly you touched things when you cared. especially when you used to touch her, you were so careful with her even if it was unnecessary

you didn’t even realize you were touching her until she perked up, touching her was like a reflex even after all these years. she was still your soulmate, even if you hardly knew each other—your souls were tied. they were tied in the way that couldn’t be separated, even if you were on different ends of the earth. even if you were trapped in shitty marriages or broken relationships. soul ties didn’t break that easily.

“thank you, i appreciate it.” she replied, her expression was soft. oh, you missed that expression so much. that was almost how she looked at you that night on your balcony. new year’s eve was a cursed day. “i uh..i had a girlfriend but we just broke up. grief changes people—me.” she added, though she didn’t talk about jj for some reason. that was too much to explain, so much to explain and so little time.

your expression was somber, you were really hoping ellie would be well off. maybe that was just the bad stuff, maybe she was well off besides these more recent events. “i get it, just let yourself heal, okay? what about college, did you still go?”

the change in topic seemed to lift her mood a bit, you always used to have that effect on her. “yeah, i’m actually trying to be an astrophysicist or a cosmologist.” she explained, a soft smile painted on her lips now. “it’s been hard with so much shit happening, but i’m managing.

this pleased you, that was actually really great to hear. ellie had always been passionate about space and the history of the universe, so the fact she was trying to pursue her passion made you really happy for her. “that’s amazing, ellie!” you congratulated her, you had a big smile on your face.

ellie laughed in response, your enthusiasm was infectious. she missed that about you, how you could light up anybody’s mood from simply existing. it was because you were genuinely a good person, because you cared for people in a way that was so deep and so true.

“thanks, maybe i should talk your ear off again like i used to. i’m learning a lot of new things, you know?” she joked, but there was a genuine undertone. she wanted nothing more than to talk to you, she wanted to build something with you again. she wanted to learn about your life and be in it again, her life was so dull and lonely without you.

your smile faded a bit, though it wasn’t because you reacted badly. you stared at her, stared at the woman who you had longed for every waking moment for the last 7 years. you longed for her in your dreaming hours too, but just the waking ones. you smiled again, though it was more genuine.

“i’d like that, i’d like that a lot.” you replied, it was affectionate in a way. you wanted nothing more than to chat with her, curse this life of yours. you didn’t want to be a stay at home wife, you didn’t want to be with that bastard you call a husband; you wanted ellie. that’s all you wanted, you felt like that would fix everything.

ellie’s smile widened at this, it was like when you first took your relationship further back then. only this was different, this felt so forbidden in a way and so familiar.

your hands slid down from her arm and you grabbed her hand, holding it between both of yours. it felt like that moment on that balcony 7 years ago, when you kissed and held hands and watched the fireworks. there were fireworks booming around the two of you, but you paid them no mind. the colors shot beautifully into the dark sky, but just like last time, ellie was far prettier.

ellie was watching you, she watched as if everything around her was a white void. she almost immediately gripped your hand, the look on her face was so sincere and genuine. it was so full of affection and love, the affection and love you didn’t dare forget. the love that was your first, the love that taught you what it meant to love. the love that made you feel like you were the only one in the room, in the world, in the universe.

“you look so pretty tonight.” she coaxed, you could tell she meant every word. it was like those words were pulled straight out of her heart and put on a platter just for you. all you could think about was that night again, when she called you pretty as she held your hand and kissed you.

you could feel your heart flutter, all those feelings from last time came back to life in that moment. all the wishing and dreaming and yearning, all of it seemed worth it now. ellie was worth anything and everything, the fact you were apart for so long only made you want her more. you would figure out a way to be with her again, you’d do absolutely anything. you’d take control of your life for once, you’d live your dreams with the girl you loved and go to fucking college. you’d get a house, let your daughter meet her, and just be happy. this moment was the boost you needed—if things went well, that is.

your eyes were slightly glazed over, fighting back tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. you squeezed her hands so tight it must’ve been painful, but it was as if you were let her go then you’d never find her again. as if she wouldn’t find her way back to you, as if you wouldn’t be so lucky next time. your expression was sincere as well, that loving look that spoke volumes of how you felt. it spoke the words your soul and heart couldn’t.

“ellie” you started, trying your best not to cry like you did that new year’s eve 7 years ago,

“let’s try again.”

tagsss! <3 @eriiwaii @valeisaslut @haithone @usuck

[infamous-if]

Hi Amy! Sorry if this is a weird ask, but I remember you said a while back that you leave a lot of asks unanswered because you either don’t find them interesting, or you don’t want to spoil something for the story. So, in your opinion, what kinds of questions are you more likely to answer?

I promise I’m not accusing you of anything, and it’s well within your right to not answer something you don’t want to, it’s just I’ve sent a lot of asks over the months that have went unanswered so I’m wondering if there’s a certain topic or character you’re more willing to talk about.

I'm more likely to answer questions on gameplay or to clarify something that someone is confused about and may be a sentiment shared with others. Mostly if someone has a problem with something and needs clarification haha Or funny one-liner comment because they're less responsibility and don't require much thought or thoughtful answers lol

Sometimes if there's an opinion or assumption made by more than a few people then ill be sure to answer it to clear things up :)

I don't answer scenario/RO asks much because I think it's too time consuming

I confess that compliments and nice words are screenshotted so I can read them when im feeling down lolol but I dont respond to them because I dont want to be seen stroking my own ego on the dash LMAO and not to spam people

It's not that I ignore questions or that I prefer answering questions about certain characters or topics, it's just that I have so many! I'm currently at 7k questions sitting in my inbox and this was after i emptied it out. I feel guilty about ignoring questions but the truth is that I dont even see them half the time ://

many times i start answering a question and then leave it in the drafts for later and forget...like this one, which was in my drafts for a few days before I finally posted it hahahaha sorry

I promise that im not ignoring ur questions and definitely didnt look at it and think "boo boring" I just most likely havent seen it or completely forgot to check it again to answer, I have really bad memory in general so yeah lolol

[elswhore]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝟎𝟎𝟐

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ─ none so far. meeting abby.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ @kalan1z @vahnilla

you stand in the living room, your eyes catching on a framed photo on the shelf, you and your dad at a carnival two summers ago, your face smeared with cotton candy, his arm slung around your shoulders, both of you laughing.

the memory feels like a lie now, tainted by his words. you frown, your chest tightening, and turn away, unable to bear the sight.

you grab your backpack, the weight of textbooks a flimsy anchor against the chaos in your head, and head out for school.

you have a morning class, and though the thought of sitting through a lecture makes your skin crawl, staying here, surrounded by his absence, is worse.

the city is gray and damp, the air heavy with the promise of rain as you step out of the apartment building.

your sneakers scuff against the cracked concrete of the stoop, your hoodie pulled up against the chill.

you’re halfway down the steps when you notice someone standing in front of the porch, blocking your path.

she’s tall, broad-shouldered, with blonde hair pulled back in a tight braid and arms crossed over a worn leather jacket.

her presence is commanding, like she owns the space she’s standing in, and her blue eyes lock onto you with an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

you don’t know her, and in this neighborhood, strangers who look this confident are rarely good news.

“hey” she says, her voice low but firm, taking a step closer. “you’re his kid, right? we need to talk.”

you bristle, your guard up, the voicemail’s sting still fresh. “i don’t know you” you snap, brushing past her, your shoulder bumping hers as you head for the sidewalk.

“leave me alone.” she doesn’t back off, falling into step beside you, her boots thudding against the pavement. “im not here to mess with you” she says, keeping pace despite your quickening strides.

“it’s about your dad, i know he’s been gone a while.” you ignore her, your jaw tight, focusing on the rhythm of your steps.

the street is busy—cars crawling through morning traffic, pedestrians weaving past with umbrellas—but her presence is a weight, impossible to shake.

you don’t trust her, don’t trust anyone right now, not after your dad’s words, not after the secrets you’ve uncovered.

for all you know, she’s part of whatever he was mixed up in, here to scam you or worse.

“Look, I know you’re pissed,” she says, her voice steady, undeterred by your silence.

“but you need to hear this, it’s about ellie williams.” the name stops you cold, your sneakers skidding to a halt on the wet pavement.

Ellie Williams.

you heard it yesterday, whispered by tommy in that dive bar, a name that carries the weight of fear and power.

you turn to face the woman, your eyes narrowing, searching her face for any hint of a lie.

she’s unflinching, her gaze steady, but there’s a flicker of something—sympathy, maybe?—that makes your skin prickle.

“what about ellie williams?” you ask, your voice low, barely hiding the tremor of anger and desperation.

she opens her mouth to answer, but you’re not ready to hear it, not from a stranger, not when your heart’s still raw.

you shake your head, turning away, and start walking again, faster this time. “forget it” you mutter.

“I don’t need your help.”

“hey, wait!” she calls, her voice sharper, cutting through the city’s hum. “your dad—he was in deep with her, you want answers, you’re not gonna find them alone, i know things, things about him, about what happened.”

you freeze, your back to her, your hands clenching into fists, the mention of your dad, the implication that she knows something about his disappearance, is a hook in your gut.

you spin around, closing the distance between you in two strides, and grab her by the collar of her jacket, yanking her close.

she’s taller, stronger, but you’re fueled by rage, by the need to know. “what do you know about my dad?” you demand, your voice shaking, your knuckles white against the leather.

“tell me, or i swear—” she doesn’t

flinch, doesn’t push you away.

her eyes meet yours, calm but piercing, like she’s seen worse than an angry kid.

“easy” she says, her voice low, almost soothing. “im not your enemy, but you’re in over your head, and you don’t even know it.” she reaches into her pocket, and you tense, ready to bolt or fight, but she pulls out a small card, plain white with a phone number scrawled in black ink.

she slips it into your hand, her fingers brushing yours, and you flinch at the contact.

“call me when you’re ready to listen” she says, stepping back, her hands raised in a gesture of peace.

“Name’s Abby. I’m not going anywhere.”

you stare at the card, your grip on her collar loosening until your hand falls to your side, abby, the name means nothing to you, but the weight of her words, the mention of Ellie and your dad, is a storm in your mind.

you want to demand more, to shake her until she spills everything, but the city is watching—passersby glancing your way, cars honking in the distance—and you’re suddenly aware of how exposed you are.

you shove the card into your pocket, your eyes burning with unshed tears, and turn away without another word.

she doesn’t follow this time, but you feel her gaze on your back as you walk toward school, the card a heavy presence in your jeans.

you don’t know that abby’s been watching you for days, tracking your movements since your dad’s body hit the bottom of the lake.

you don’t know that she’s ellie’s rival, a mafia boss with her own empire, looking for a way to dismantle ellie’s operation.

───────────────────────────

you’ve been carrying abby’s card in your pocket for a day, its edges worn from your fingers brushing over it, the scrawled number a taunting lifeline.

You’ve thought about it too much, the weight of abby’s offer—her claim to know things about your dad, about ellie—pressing against your resolve.

now, you’re outside a playground late at night, the kind of place kids abandon when the sun sets, leaving swings creaking in the wind and slides glistening with dew.

the streetlights cast long, flickering shadows, and the air is cool, heavy with the scent of damp grass and distant exhaust.

you’re perched on a bench, your hoodie pulled up, the playground’s rusted jungle gym looming like a skeleton in the dark.

your phone is in your hand, abby’s card pinched between your fingers, the number glowing on the screen.

your thumb hovers over the call button, your heart a drumbeat of hesitation and resolve.

this is a line you can’t uncross, a step into the city’s underbelly where your dad’s secrets live.

but you’re tired of being the kid left behind, tired of the voicemail’s poison seeping into you.

you need to know.

you press call, the ring cutting through the night’s quiet.

abby picks up on the second ring, her voice low and calm, like she was expecting you.

“took you long enough” she says, a hint of a smirk in her tone.

you swallow, your throat tight. “i want to know more” you say, the words spilling out before you can second guess them. “about ellie. about my dad. whatever you know, i’m in.”

there’s a pause, then she says “good. meet me at the old gas station on 7th and harbor, one hour, come alone.”

the line goes dead, and you’re left with the weight of your decision.

you shove the phone in your pocket, your breath visible in the chilly air, and head out, the playground fading into the night behind you.

the gas station is a relic, its pumps long dry, the neon sign above the convenience store flickering with a sickly yellow glow.

the lot is empty except for a black SUV parked in the shadows, its engine idling.

you approach, your sneakers crunching on gravel, your pulse a steady thrum of adrenaline.

the driver’s door opens, and abby steps out, her broad frame unmistakable even in the dim light.

her blonde braid catches the glow of a streetlight, and her leather jacket creaks as she crosses her arms, sizing you up with those piercing blue eyes.

she’s not alone. a woman leans against the SUV, smaller, she’s dressed plainly—jeans, a worn jacket, a scarf loose around her neck—like she’s trying not to stand out.

“you’re late” abby says, but there’s no real bite in it.

she gestures to the woman beside her. “this is nel, she works with me.”

mel nods, her eyes flicking over you, assessing, but she doesn’t smile.

there’s a quiet intensity to her, like she’s seen too much and learned to keep it locked away.

you don’t know her, don’t trust her, but abby’s confidence in her is a tether in this unsteady moment.

you shift, shoving your hands in your pockets, the card still tucked against your palm.

“so, what’s this about?” you ask, your voice steadier than you feel.

“you said you know something about my dad. about ellie williams.”abby leans against the SUV, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp.

“i do, but first, you need to understand what you’re stepping into, ellie runs this city’s dark side—drugs, guns, you name it. your dad was one of her runners, small-time but loyal. until he wasn’t.”

you flinch, the voicemail’s echo—a burden—stinging anew. “tommy told me he was working for her” you say, your voice tight

“but he didn’t know where he is, you said you do, so tell me.” abby exchanges a glance with mel, who shifts, her scarf slipping slightly to reveal a faint scar on her collarbone.

“it’s not that simple” abby says, her tone measured.

“ellie’s not just some thug you can confront, she’s a ghost, untouchable, and her crew’s loyal to the bone, you want answers, you gotta play the game, that’s where mel comes in.”

mel straightens, her voice soft but clear. “im a cleaner for ellie,” she says, and you frown, confused.

“not like mopping floors, i clean up… messes. evidence, bodies, whatever she needs gone. im in her orbit, close enough to see things, hear things. but I’m not one of hers. not really.”

you stare at her, processing. A cleaner.

someone who scrubs away ellie’s crimes.

the thought makes your stomach churn, but it also sparks a flicker of hope.

if mel’s that close to ellie, she might know where your dad is—or what happened to him.

“so, you’ve seen my dad?” you ask, stepping closer, your voice urgent. “you know where he is?” mel’s eyes flicker, a shadow passing over them, but she doesn’t answer right away.

abby cuts in, her voice firm. “here’s the deal, mel’s got access, but she’s risking her neck to feed me intel. i want Ellie’s empire, and you want your dad. we can help each other, but i don’t give out information for free. you work with us—get inside ellie’s crew, pass us what you learn—and we’ll get you what you need.”

you freeze, the weight of her words sinking in, work with them, infiltrate ellie’s crew. ot’s a suicide mission, a dive into the very world that swallowed your dad.

you think of mel, this quiet woman who cleans up bodies, who might have seen your dad, who might hold the key to everything.“what do you know about him?” you press, your voice shaking but defiant, locking eyes with abby. “you said you know something about my dad, tell me now, or i walk.”

abby’s jaw tightens, but mel speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. “i can’t say anything yet” she says, and there’s a tremor in her words, a guilt you don’t catch.

“not until you’re in, it’s too risky—for all of us.” you want to scream, to grab her and shake the truth out, but abby’s watching you, her expression unyielding.

“you want him back, you play by my rules” she says. “mel’s seen things, heard things, she’ll get you what you need, but only when we’ve got what we want.”

you don’t know that mel was there, five days ago, in that derelict warehouse when ellie forced your dad to record that voicemail, her gun pressed to his temple.

you don’t know that mel watched, her hands trembling, as your dad’s voice broke, saying he regretted you, each word a lie to protect you from ellie’s wrath.

you don’t know that Mel cleaned up after, scrubbing blood from the concrete, her scarf hiding the tears she couldn’t shed, while your dad’s body was weighted and dumped in the lake.

you don’t know that abby’s seizing this chance, using your pain as leverage, because so few dare to cross ellie, and you’re a rare recruit—driven, desperate, with nothing to lose.

all you know is the voicemail, the betrayal, the name ellie williams, and now this deal, dangling answers just out of reach.

you clench your fists, the playground’s shadows pressing in, and nod. “fine” you say, your voice hard. “im in, but you better not be lying.”abby smirks, a glint of approval in her eyes. “good choice, mel’ get you started. welcome to the game.”

mel hands you a burner phone, her fingers brushing yours and you feel a chill that has nothing to do with the night air.

you’re in now, no turning back, and the truth about your dad is closer—and more dangerous—than ever.

───────────────────────────

[red5cars]

Last ask I promise, til you answer the others.

Price sometimes lies and says too drunk to get it up so he has you fuck him, head down ass up and moaning like the whore he really is. Dressed in a classy lil black slip dress.

Simon comes around to being strap tester and even Forgets that he ordered things, looks at you like he can't wait to enjoy it but won't ask for it out right. Has a bitch skirt and matching top. (May or may not be inspired by something I own.)

Johnny does out right asked to be fucked in the ass and cums even harder then when he's fucking you just enjoying everything you do to or with him. Asked for weird shit all the time, Dressed as a cheerleader or even better Catholic school girl. (Let me be sacrilegious with our good Catholic boy.)

Kyle can and will dress as anything you ask of him while keeping toys in him as you go about your day. (I think he's a low key freak.) He can and will bounce on whatever he's told to and can cum on command and gets mad when you hold off the command. ~ local pocket dragon has more thoughts.

blacked out at price in a black slip dress HELLO?!

there are all so gorgeous thoughts i think i’m going to actually explode though but im going to touch on kyle a bit more bcs i love him he’s everything to me.

he’s honestly the perfect man. caring, compassionate, and very open-minded. you were scared he’d run off at the mere mention of touching his ass, but all he did was smile and say, “just let me know when” (you don’t need to know he’s been fucked a plenty, your ignorance makes this all the more special for you too).

you seem to get more hot in the face than him, watching his hole swallow the twitching dildo with a practiced ease. practically bouncing in your seat as you play with the settings, his smile becoming more strained as the bus continues to move. doesn’t help the skirt he’s got in is shorter than agreed upon, but he’ll let you have it.

after all, when it comes your turn, he’s going to put you through much worse :)

[enderwoah]

im so unwell about q!pac no its not even funny anymore i need to put him in a terrarium up on a shelf and keep him safe up there. he doesn't deserve any bad thing, ever. i don't even care about "having a good story" or "giving your character a conflict" anymore, nah, no, if ONE (1) MORE BAD THING HAPPENS TO HIM IM GONNA LOSE IT!! IM GONNA START BREAKING THINGS!!!

he's so. sad. hes such a sad character. his insecurities about being useless to everyone are so real and so painful because he's not, all of us know that he's not, but we also completely understand why he feels that way because he's had everyone he loves ripped away from him and he hasn't been able to lift a finger to stop any of it. he's just left to sit in the ruins without any help. he's collateral to all the tragedy surrounding him and the favela 5 in general and he's. tired. not in the way that cellbit is tired (though that works, too). he's exhausted of feeling sad all the time. of crying all the time. of feeling that loneliness that gnaws holes into his bones and settles in the marrow and never leaves, not when richas' bed is empty, not when mike's bedroom has started to collect dust, not when he can't see a real, tangible presence in forever's dilated eyes. the only person he has is cellbit, and he could never ask cellbit to give up what he still has when pac has nothing to lose (and god, how selfless, how kind is that?), so when he figures the only way to get an antidote to the drug is to have the drug itself, why wouldn't he offer himself up? and if that wasn't the only reason he tried to get his hands on it, who could blame him?

maybe he took it first to just feel the effects and understand the angle it took in affecting his mind. maybe he just took it for research. do you think he had slipped by the second time? do you think he took it once and, for a short thirty minutes, found that he could forget about all the sorrow lining his lungs and breathe? do you think reality crashed back onto him after that first try? do you think he was scrambling to take it again, to go back to that...maybe it wasn't blissful ignorance, per se, but willful disregard? do you think he couldn't wait to be submerged so deep that he couldn't think one more time? do you think he was hesitant? do you think he kept promising himself, one more, one more, one more...

god he is so. so sad. i was watching phil's pov, so everything was like a neat little movie for me, and just. cellbit and forever arguing while pac was just sobbing in the background was AWFUL. just. awful. it hurt. (cc!pac was damn good at acting, too, and that DID NOT HELP.) the moment he stepped on the trap i felt like i was hit with a brick. like no, of COURSE we should NOT be putting PAC in a CONFINED JAIL CELL. ALONE. and i know it was for his own good but i still felt so so so sick. the way he immediately curled up in the corner. the way he was crying to himself. the way he instantly answered richas' birthday the moment bad asked for it. the way he got visibly more upset and terrified when cellbit started shouting at forever. what the hell. no seriously what the HELL.

and, like, oh my god, making him the one to solve the antidote? proving that even though he may have fallen to the drug (the drug which was basically created by GODS, by the way, lets be real, the federation is nawt normal), he's still so useful. he's still such an asset. he's smart and he's kind and he's charismatic and he's trusting and he's so so selfless and so so brave and so strong. tubbo put it perfectly. the fact that he's gone through all the horrible awful stuff he's gone through and he's still standing just proves how capable he is. how tough he is. cellbit calling him "my dear." pointing out the fact that he sacrificed himself without knowing he was going to come back. "i'm only afraid of being sad again." "you will be sad again. but you won't be alone." he's so. he's just. he's. im frothing at the mouth. he gave himself up to save the rest of the island from this plague that took one of his best friends and might've taken the entire island if he didn't do anything. under that stress. experiencing that level of loss.

pac is one of the toughest goddamn people on the island and if anyone on that server even dares try to imply otherwise i will do heinous heinous things, mark my WORDS.

[dwntwn-strnlo]

opia. [m.st.]

── ⟡˙ ̟ matthew sturniolo x !reader

↳ synopsis. — not everyone is going to hurt you

↳ a/n. — this will contain a glossary at the end

↳ requested? — no

↳ cw. — use of 'y/n', crying, mentions of someone walking out of a relationship, unresolved ending, not proofread

walking out of your bedroom, you're met with a knock at the front door. startling your dazed state.

you rub at your eyes, harsher than you had intended. pulling your hands back to leave your vision blurry for several long seconds.

you don't want to answer the door, but you know if you're going to play this 'im fine' role, you can't ignore the gentle tapping.

more hurried knocks ring throughout your living room, finally sending you up to the wooden door. checking yourself in the mirror, you quickly pull your hair out of a claw clip and look through the peephole.

finding matt on the other side, hair wet from the light rain. his face shows worry, and slight panic.

letting out a hushed breath of air, you unlock the door and pull it open.

matts eyes immediately flash to yours, but you look at his car, avoiding his gaze. "are you uh- fuck." he mumbles, running his hands down his face. "I heard what happened with troye."

you shrug, switching your eyes to the ground. staring at the metal piece under the doorframe that separates your home from the world. "im fine. i knew he was gonna leave anyways."

when his breath hitches, you finally meet his eyes. he looks at you with a look that isn't intended to be hurtful, but it does. 'do you think im a dumbass?' his face read. but you aren't surprised that it hurt you. everything's hurt you the last few days.

"can i come in?" he queries, "or do you want space?"

shaking your head, you bite down hard on your lip. meeting his eyes when you unintentionally bring a metallic taste to your tongue. "don't give me space, please." you say softly, "space is that last thing I need from you right now."

his eyes glow for the split second it takes him to forget the circumstances in which he stands here right now. he nods gently, taking a step into your home.

you can't describe the rubatosis that floods your brain. the utter feeling of your heart pounding echoes in your brain and in your blood. threatening to burst out and let you hit the floor. you feel nervous. ready to fall to your knees with nausea, nervous.

shutting the door slowly, you search for the euphoric sensation of the rain pattering against your window, and your best friend standing in your living room.

turning to look to matt, his eyes soften as he finally gets a good look at you. rain no longer clouding his vision.

"tell me how i can fix this," he intoned, taking a cautious step towards you.

you bite back a laugh, you felt pathetic. you didn't even call matt, but yet here he was. coming to rescue you from your mentally draining ex boyfriend.

"you can't." you mouthed. your voice hushing itself to a heartbreaking whisper, barely audible over the television playing at a low volume.

watching the heartbreak in his eyes, you couldn't stand it. you were trying so hard not to cry in front of him but the opia was so frustrating.

he felt such an aenonic love as he stared at you. watching you make your way to the couch. sitting down with your knees tucked tightly up to your chest.

it hurt him to know that the person he loved so deeply felt hurt in the air of her own home.

"you deserve more," he whispers. "you look so run down, y/n."

"im fine, matt." you mumble. your voice still low and tremulous.

"lying is gonna get you no where." matt shakes his head, stepping towards you and kneeling down on the floor. taking your hands in his equally shaky ones. "you can look at me," he smiled reassuringly. bringing your knuckles up to his lips. "i promise you it's gonna be okay."

you met his eyes hesitantly. not sure how long you'll be able to maintain eye contact with him. "I can't do this, matt." you breathed. tears finally escaping and trickling quickly down your cheeks.

his eyes widen at your sudden sobs, pulling you close to him. "shh," he hushes lightly, rubbing circles into your neck with his thumb. "im sorry," he whispers. "im so, so sorry."

you couldn't bring yourself to speak. knowing your voice would break halfway through the first word anyways. you hugged matt as tight as possible; never wanting to let go.

"not everyone is going to hurt you," matt insinuated, pulling you deeper into his arms. carefully holding your head in his neck in an attempt to keep himself from crying too.

the boy stared tiredly up at the ceiling, biting his lip to keep himself from saying too much. keeping himself from telling you how much he hated calvin and how he knew he would hurt you, but he couldn't do that. he also couldn't mumble out the three words of affection. which hurt him. "im sorry," is all he could muster up, mumbling into your hair.

"please-" you husked, "please don't leave me too."

and that's all it took to break matt.

he tensed up in your arms, tears finally fighting their way out of his eyes. "I won't," he mouthed, you could barely hear him, but it was enough. "I promise I'll never leave you. you're my best friend, I'll love you forever."

he winced at his own words, only making himself cry harder.

he hated that stupid kid and his stupid face and the stupid way he made you fall in love and the stupid way he left you for a stupid girl. he hated the way calvin made you happy and not him.

"it's all going to be alright." matt hushed, pressing a soft kiss into the top of your head.

GLOSSARY

rubatosis - the feeling of ones own heartbeat

euphoric/euphoria - happiness

opia - the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye

aeonic/aeonia - internally everlasting

TAGLIST

@thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @fenoy7 @mlimmm @prettysturniolo @ssturniolo @gabbylovesreading @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @matthewmurdockswife @jellybeanbby

[ashisill]

Take it back

Warnings: crying, overstimulation, language, unprotected sex, choking, you being mean to Josh (he’s okay I promise), m dom/f sub, oral (m/f receiving), slight jealously, and I believe that’s all.

~

“More Josh” you whined as Josh slowly slid in and out of you

You had a long day and Josh was trying to help you unwind. All was well but you wanted more. “Harder baby”

He sped up, but it wasn’t enough. You started pulling at his back, and digging your heels into him. Your whines became louder as your need became stronger.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry” Josh asked so sweetly.

“I n-need m-more- please more”

“Calm down baby. What do you want more of?”

“Harder. Rougher. I need it” tears threatened your eyes.

“Breathe baby. I’ve got you”

He slammed into you giving you what you wanted. When you winched in pain he stopped . “I can’t darling I don’t wanna hurt you.

“No it feels good. Please”

“I can’t hurt you. I can’t”

“Please” you choked out tears failing from your eyes. “I bet your brother would” that was mean. By brother you meant Jake. Look at him he’s entire personality tells you everything. The way he practically fucks his guitar on stage. Yeah you knew how he’d be in bed. Fucking ruthless.

You covered your mouth in shock from your words. In fear of hurting his feelings you went to apologize. Instead it only made him want you more.

“Oh that’s what you want” he smirked at you. His sweet demeanor changed into a side of him you’ve never seen. “You want me to fuck you like Jake?”

You stared at him in shock. He grabbed your throat “use your words or your not getting shit”

“Yes” you cried. “Yes please Josh”

“That a girl. Do you want it?”

“Josh I want it so fucking bad”

“You poor thing. On your knees”

“Baby please”

“Stop fucking whining. You heard me”

This was hardly Josh at all, but you fucking love it.

You got on your knees, and put your hands on your lap. If you were good maybe he’d give in, but you forget he can see right through you.

“Trying to be a good girl to get what you want?”

“No I just wanna be good for you”

“Good answer pretty girl. Open up”

He slid himself inside your mouth. “More”

He hit the back of your throat, and you tried hard not to gag. “Look at me darling. If it’s to much just tap my arm”

His pace picked up and you gagged around him. Instead of pulling out like he usually does. He nuzzled himself deeper. You gagged again, but you didn’t get a break. Over and over occasionally he pulled out, but not for very long. “You got it baby. I’m right there”

Tears once again were streaming down your face. He grabbed the back of your head, shoved you down. until your nose brushed against his stomach. “All the way that’s my pretty girl. I’m about to finish you ready?”

You signaled to him that you were, and he let go in your mouth. You stuck your tongue out to show him the mess he made. Then swallowed all of it and wiped your lips.

“Such a good girl aren’t you?” You nodded your head hoping he’d give you what you needed. “Come here”

He laid down on his back, and you followed his lead. He patted his lap for you to sit on top. “You look so pretty up there. Actually I think you’d look prettier here” he pointed at his mouth. You sat there confused he’s never asked you to do this before.

He noticed all the thoughts running through your head. “Unless you don’t want it”

“No!” You shouted and made your way up him. He grabbed your hips and pushed you down. You gasped out immediately. He began to work his tongue at an unforgiving pace. He always teases you with small kitten licks, but not now.

“Josh slow down baby”

He completely ignore you, and gripped your hips harder. That warm feeling that you knew so well began to form in your stomach. “Josh im gonna cum” you pulled at his curls and began to squirm.

With his hands around your waist moving you as you rode his face. Your orgasm took over and you lost complete control. He shoved you off, and flipped you on your stomach. “Ass up mama”

Before you could adjust yourself he slammed into you. You moaned out wishing you could stop yourself, but when you went to cover your mouth he wouldn’t let you. “Don’t you fucking dare. Let me hear you”

“Josh it feels so good”

“Is this what you need pretty mama? Some rough sex. You want me to destroy this pretty pussy?”

“Oh god Josh yes”

“Say it. Say you take back what you said about my brother. You know damn well he can’t give you what I can”

“I take it all back. I do. I promise. Your the best. You fuck me so good. Fuck I love your cock, and only yours”

“Sweetheart I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that”

“I can’t- I can’t help it. I think I’m gonna-”

He pulled out immediately making you cry once more. You begged for him, but he just laughed at your efforts. “So needy. Are you begging for my cock darling?”

“Please baby please I need it so bad”

“You need what?” He questioned purely just to tease you.

“I need to cum”

“And how exactly?”

“I need your cock. I need you inside me. All the way please Joshy please let me cum”

“That’s what I like to hear” He slid inside, but didn’t move. “Come on baby take us there”

You whined in protest but he insisted. You started pushing yourself back on him then moving forward. Fucking yourself against him. He put his hands his own hips watching you do the work. You tried as hard as you could to keep going, but eventually your pace began falling. “I’m trying so hard Josh”

“I got us pretty mama”

He laid his chest against your back, and gently grabbed your throat. “Let go for me. I’m right behind you”

You did just as he said, and let your release take over your body. You cried out his name, and he cried out yours. All that dominating attitude left as quick as it came. Your gentle sweet boy was back, as you laid in his arms. “That wasn’t to much was it?”

“For you maybe” you laughed.

“Yeah let’s hope you don’t want a round two”

You both agree that there was no way in hell that would happen. You laid on his chest, and his arms wrapped around you. Your eyes began to get heavy, and you made sure to remind him you loved him. He talked softly about his love for you as you fell asleep to his voice. You remembered then just how much you loved Josh being gentle with you.

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Heyyyy…

hey im still figuring out what i wanna be called but for now u can call me Jamie if u want I’m genderfluid as fuck [they/she/he or whatever idegafatp]

some typa aroace spectrum probs grayace & demiromantic also omniromantic - in general I have nothing figured out

so a simp w like a slight preference for men ig but kinda ace most of the time but sometimes very not

neurospicy bitch

writing request status: OPEN FOR MICROFICS RN

I’m a rosekiller loverrr but also a multi shipper so u never know what ur gonna see ig [but probably Rosekiller, Wolfstar, Dorlene, Starchaser maybe some sunkiller if I’m in the mood etc] for the record just bc I don’t ship smth doesn’t mean I support hating it even as a joke [translation: prongsfoot is chill leave them be]

if u don’t like smth, just ignore it, if u send me hate I’ll reply w shitty jokes probs

my dream job is to be an actor [screen actor specifically]

Media I like:

Fav TV stuff: Challengers, Gravity Falls, Cruella, 10 things I hate about you, into the spiderverse

Fav author is @neil-gaiman also that man is my idol so I’ll probs reblog him a shit ton [do u think he’ll like…mind that I tagged him? Sorry if this bothered u Neil!!!] Music [uhhh changes all the time tbh but for rn]: The Neighbourhood, Olivia Rodrigo, Conan Gray [Kid Krow phase rn], Chappell Roan, Renée Rapp, Green day, Ricky Montgomery, NOAHFINNCE, MARINA and Hozier

Spider-Man. Fucking love Spider-Man.

One thing to note about me tho: obvi I love recommendations but I find starting literally any new forms of media really fucking daunting for no reason [this is everything: songs, movies, books etc]

e.g. I fucking love spider verse but I still haven’t watched movie 2, same w latest season of young royals, same with even like ONE song alone I find it rlly hard and really scary

so if u give me recommendations and I don’t get back to u about them for ages it’s not bc I forgot or i was ignoring u but bc I find it scary so pls be patient :)

also same w please don’t like assume I’m knowledgeable about like any of the music artists I named earlier bc tbh I don’t rlly listen to artists I listen to songs [im still a fan of a lot of music artists ofc but the artists I listen to ≠ the artists I’m a fan of]

HI! welcome to my crazy blog, I love making friends im not at all scary I promise :D

Btw my inbox is ALWAYS open for spam, ship ramblings [even if it’s not smth I ship], info dropping about ur hyperfixations, venting, questions etc. [the only thing is no illegal ships bc it will be ignored] also sorry pre warning im shit with the inbox chains [‘send this to ten people who…’] so often I won’t answer those sorry, anything else I will make sure to answer but the chains I sometimes just forget about sorryyy

Barty Crouch Jr & James Potter kinnie

got a FAT crush on Evan Rosier [he’s the loml he just doesn’t know it yet] and also a crush on Dorcas Meadowes

I write sometimes:

I fell for you like glitter on stage - rosekiller band au, this was a microfic series on tumblr that I posted on ao3 for convenience [words: 4548] [this is my fav thing I’ve ever written lol]

we are all just prisoners here of our own device - Jegulus, a oneshot on ao3 based on the song ‘hotel California’ by the eagles. [Words: 6162]

Oh where do we begin? The rubble or our sins? - ON HIATUS. Roman Empire Jegulus au with side Rosekiller, Wolfstar and Pandalily on ao3 [words: 6141] [currently I don’t want to write Jegulus - the hyperfixation hath faded]

also I’m in a marauders RP as Barty and u shld follow it bc we’re all super cool and funny and amazing and awesome and yeah @bartythebabygorljr

tags you’ll see on my page:

me and my old black biro > writing tag

Im in love with that Rosier boy > [this is a new one] me having a massive crush on Evan Rosier

the most boring soap opera > my life tag

I have an online diary called @miseryoforpheus if ur fascinated by my charming and irresistible personality

[The song at the bottom of my intro post changes all the time depending on how I’m feeling]

THIS BLOG SUPPORTS PALESTINE

THIS BLOG STANDS WITH UKRAINE

THIS BLOG THINKS JK ROWLING HAS A NEGATIVE QUANTITY OF BRAINCELLS

[ask-the-greaser-fish]

hi everyone! i just wanted to let you know that this askblog has gotten a lot more attention than i thought it would in a very short time, this is not a bad thing by a LONG SHOT and i love every single question ive received! i just wanted to tell all of you that due to circumstances in real life, and the amount of questions in my ask box, it may take just a little while to answer your question- but i PROMISE that im not ignoring it or forgetting about it! please keep sending asks and i will get to it! :3 -💜

[ayelbee]

MORE THAN LOVE | K. MBAPPÉ | 7

previous chapter |

masterlist

Summary: Sometimes even love is not enough for relationships. But it's fine because you are over it. But getting again in a contact with his younger brother wasn't smart.

TW: bad english, bad writing

Notes: Hey, I'm so sorry that this took me so long, but last few months weren't really good to me. I'm really grateful for those who reached out to me (sorry, for no answering loves, but i do really love you and im thankful for you)

I will be back soon with a new chapter, love you very much guys

---

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions. You tried to focus on work, but thoughts of Kylian kept creeping into your mind. You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Ethan was right, that maybe there was still a chance for you and Kylian. But your rational side reminded you of the reasons you two broke up in the first place.

One evening, as you were sitting on your couch, scrolling through your phone, you received a text from an unknown number. It simply read, "Can we talk?" You felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension. After a moment of contemplation, you replied with a hesitant, "Okay."

The response came quickly, "Meet me at our spot tomorrow, 7 PM."

"Our spot" was a small park near the Seine River where you and Kylian used to spend lazy afternoons. It held countless memories, both happy and bittersweet. The idea of meeting there again brought a flood of emotions, but you agreed nonetheless.

The next evening, you found yourself at the park, the air filled with the fragrance of blooming flowers. As you approached the familiar bench, you saw Kylian waiting. His expression was a mix of nervousness and determination.

"Hi," he greeted you, standing up as you approached.

"Hi," you replied, unsure of what to expect.

Kylian gestured to the bench, and you both sat down. The silence hung heavy in the air until Kylian spoke, "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Y/n."

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I know things between us didn't end well, and I've spent these days realizing my mistakes. I miss you, and I miss us," he confessed, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reciprocation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Kylian, we broke up for a reason. I can't forget the arguments, the misunderstandings, and the pain we caused each other."

He nodded, acknowledging your words. "I've been talking to my brother, and he made me see things from a different perspective. I know I messed up, but I'm willing to change, to make things work."

You looked at him skeptically, but a small part of you wanted to believe him. "Kylian, change takes time. It's not something that happens overnight. And I can't ignore the past."

He reached for your hand, his touch familiar and comforting. "I'm willing to put in the effort, Y/n. I love you, and I want to make things right."

As you looked into his eyes, you saw a sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings. The inner battle between your emotions and logic continued. Could Kylian change? Could you trust him again?

But deep down, you knew that reopening old wounds might not be the best idea. With a heavy heart, you pulled your hand away and said, "Kylian, I appreciate your honesty, but I need time to think. We both do."

He nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Take all the time you need, Y/n. I just want a chance to show you that I can be the man you deserve."

You left the park that evening with a mix of emotions. The ball was now in your court, and the decision weighed heavily on your shoulders. The ride home was filled with the echoes of Kylian's words, leaving you in a state of uncertainty about the path ahead.

Could Kylian become the man you deserve? This wasn't the first time Kylian promised you that he would work on himself. Memories of that day came back to into your head.

The following week marked your return from the trip to visit your family in New York. The air in the apartment felt different as you unpacked your bags and settled back into your routine. The memories of the argument with Kylian still lingered, but there was an unspoken understanding that both of you needed time and space to heal.

As you entered the living room, you found Kylian sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. The atmosphere was tense, but you were determined to address the underlying issues.

"Hey," you greeted him, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Kylian looked up, offering a small smile. "Hey. How was your trip?"

"It was good. Nice to spend time with my family," you replied, taking a seat opposite him.

A silence hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. You decided to break it, "Kylian, we need to talk about what happened before I left."

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and longing. "I know. I messed up, Y/n. I shouldn't have said those things."

You sighed, "It's not just about what you said. It's about us, about our expectations and how we communicate. I don't want us to keep hurting each other."

Kylian ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "I don't want that either. I just… I got scared, and I didn't handle it well."

"I get that you're worried about us, about me. But we can't let fear dictate how we communicate," you emphasized.

He looked at you, his eyes searching for understanding. "I don't want to lose you, Y/n. I love you, and I don't want my insecurities to ruin what we have."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart. "Kylian, I love you too. But we need to find a way to support each other without stifling our individual dreams. I won't ask you to give up football, and I can't give up my career either."

He nodded, a silent agreement settling between you. "I know, and I'm willing to work on it. I want us to figure this out together."

A sense of relief washed over you. "Me too. But it means we need to be open and honest with each other, even if it's uncomfortable."

Kylian reached for your hand, a small smile playing on his lips. "Deal. I don't want to lose you, Y/n. You're too important to me."

You squeezed his hand, a shared understanding passing between you. "I don't want to lose us either, Kylian. Let's take it one step at a time."

As you sat there, hands intertwined, a renewed sense of hope filled the room. The journey ahead remained uncertain, but the commitment to understanding and supporting each other became the foundation on which you both hoped to rebuild. The scars of the past would take time to heal, but the willingness to grow together offered a glimmer of possibility for the future.

Possibility for the future that didn't work out in the end....

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Tag list: @nightlockcornucopia, @she-lives-in-her-dreams, @sorceresski @m4k444 @mrs-dasilvasantoss @starofavolonea @mrswhitethornbelikov @kyksgirl

[official-crab-posts]

hello and welcome to official crab posts, a blog where i present you with only the crabbiest of posts! you can call me crab or bug.

i have a ko-fi here if you want to fund my crab army! (or help me afford just like. life generally.)

feel free to tag me in posts you think are worthy of becoming official crab posts, certified by me, a random person on the internet.

for pronouns, basically anything goes. i especially like they/them, it/its, and ze/zir, but he/him or she/her are also alright :]

zionists and antisemites are not welcome here.

please let me know if you want something specific tagged.

i’m pretty busy so i may not post too often but i will try to keep enough crab posts in the queue that you get one a day. except of course when i forget and dont post for several months. sorry

if i dont answer your message or ask i pinky promise im not trying to ignore you im just forgetful :( but i see them and i love them !!!

hall of fame (in chronological order):

origin post

double the crabs

the great crab war

my official tumblr sexyman humansona

now. as i'm sure you know, there are a lot of things that evolve to look like crabs. there are many things we call crabs which are not true crabs. you may be wondering what i, official crab posts, will count as a crab and whether i will be including only true crabs. so.

for the purposes of this blog, if it looks like a crab, walks like a crab, talks like a crab, or has a common name that ends in the word crab, it counts as a crab.

i simply do not have the time or energy to identify every crab i see and double check that they are a true crab. however, this is a CRAB blog. i will not post other crustaceans, although you can definitely show them to me if you think they're cool.

to be extra clear:

fiddler crabs (true crabs) ✅CRAB

hermit crabs (false crabs) ✅CRAB

lobsters ❌NOT A CRAB