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sleekswosobession · 2 months

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death is a funny thing

alexia putellas x fem!reader

prompt: alexia angst on 10/10 out of angst scale - for madres bday

A/N: happy birthday madre @greynatomy ! 🥳🥳 you are now stuck at the restaurant

i cried while making this. i dont cry while writing or reading fanfic.

TW: Death, hurt/no comfort, the thought of me not making a part 2 for this

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2 weeks. That's what the doctor said. 2 weeks until you're dead and you soul is gone from the earth. How does one hold that infomation? How are they supposed to take it? It's not like anyone's alive to really tell you how to cope or react.

So, you sit in silence. Being taken back to the memories of playing football as a child, being in your national team for the first time. Playing for your senior team for the first time. That first kiss with Alexia which was unlike any you'd had before. The first time you'd told her you loved her, and how she immediately said it back.

All of it would come to an end.

You knew you should've been here weeks ago when you first started feeling off, but you weren't one to go a doctor when something felt bad. Just hoped it would go away unless you knew it was an injury that'd affect your career. The only reason you were in the room was because Alexia dragged you there.

What would have happened if she hadn't?

You stare at the wall in front of you, mind without thoughts. Just the shell of someone who used to be there. You feel bad for Alexia, how would she cope? You knew she had plans of proposing, you just didn't know when. That will all be a dream in only a fortnight.

How much will change by then? Will she push you out like she does with most others? Or will she hold you close, thinking that if she did you wouldn't leave her when you both know that won't happen.

When you do look at her, there's tears streaming down her face. Staining her shirt and falling onto the floor. The doctor leads you both out giving a form of all legal action needed before you die. Who to give your money to, how you want to be buried or cremated.

You wonder how they can say such news then proceed to hand papers while being devoid of any emotion. Maybe they've done it too many times to really feel.

- - - - -

Alexia drives home, eyes still leaking with tears. You're not quite sure how she's driving but you both make it home. You watch her mundane and robotic movements, until she's in the living room. That's her breaking point.

You immediately go to her, wrapping your arms around her without saying a word. This makes her sob harder.

"I can't live without you. Please no." Is all you hear over the sound of her breaking down.

"Alexia." You say, but she shakes her head.

"Alexia look at me." Again, it's no use.

"Ale please." She finally listens, looking up shaking as her lip wobbles.

"When I am gone, you will be sad yes but I trust you'll get over me. I trust you will be even better than you are now. You are the greatest woman I've ever met and you are the strongest. I will be with you here until the end and even when I'm not here physically..." You pause and touch her heart with your hand. "I'll always be with you here, remember that. And if heaven or the afterlife is real, I'll watch over you. I promise." You whisper resting your forehead against her own.

She whails into the evening, you cry along with her. Reality and the fear of death finally sinking deep into your bones. You will die. You can't be here forever.

- - - - -

The next day when training is supposed to be on is when you tell everyone at the club, sadness lingers in the air as you hug your friends. The ones who had become a new family for you. The young players like Salma and Vicky whom you'd baiscally 'adopted' when they joined the senior team. You consoled them along with Caroline (your best friend) the most. Those apart from Alexia being the ones you were always with.

It was decided a farewell dinner would be hosted. The last memories and last time to be with you.

- - - - -

Alexia wouldn't leave your side, you didn't want to leave hers either. The weight she'd carry on herself after this is too much for your own failing heart. You wanted to be with her for the rest of your life, and by that you meant grow old. Not die at 27.

The dinner was as much as anyone would expect it to be. Teary eyes and frowns painted on everyones face. The mourning had started before you left, and somehow that was even more painful.

Your will was mainly going to the football club, with no family left to give it to. Part of it went to investment in womens sports and some went to Alexia. You'd asked to be cremated, 1/3 of your ashes in the new Camp Nou, 1/3 of your ashes to be washed away by the heavy winds at the beach you loved so much, and a third to be with Alexia to do as she pleases. Whether to keep or give to people you held so close.

The end is near, it's relieving in a sense. That all this anxiety toward the date will just go. Everything for you will stop. But, you hate being the reason people are upset. All you'll leave is pain and anguish until one by one your friends heal. Alexia heals.

- - - - -

Today was the day, you're not sure how you know but you do. You wait with Alexia, remembering all good times. No words are said, she's trying to remember every detail in your face. Fearing the she'll forget you.

"Alexia." She takes a deep breath, nodding at you to continue.

"I love you, I love you in everyway possible. I love you in every universe. I love you to the moon and saturn. Never forget me, as I'll never forget you." You whisper, breath shaky as you feel yourself drifting away.

"I could never, forget you amor. You're safer wherever you are next. I love you. More than words could ever convey." Her voice breaks.

You don't want to leave her, why did it have to be like this?

She places her lips against yours one last time. Your eyes close, one last time.

—————————————————————————

well... no part 2. reader will not come back from the dead like melanie martinez

but last night i dreamt i kissed taylor swift so theres that

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #wlw #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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6eeznut · 11 months

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I swear i said "i hate you" but my soul and my twitching cock says otherwise.

Uchiha Sasuke x Chubby!Reader

A/N : this is the first time i make a fanfic :} sorry if this is so bad but i want to try to make a fanfic from a longg time and if this one was bad, then... i'm just gonna say sorry 😔 also i want to make more Naruto x Chubby reader because i rarely see Naruto x Chubby reader, since theres only a few of those that doing Naruto x Chubby reader so i was like "fine. i'll do it Myself." anyway enjoy! :D

TW : Bad Grammar, First-ever Fanfic of mine, Bullying, Denial, Noncon - Dubcon, Violence, Meanie!Sasuke, Jealousy, Stalking, Noncon-taking Pictures, Degrading, Yandere (put this here just incase cus i had no idea 💀), Tsundere.

Uchiha Sasuke who is in denial when he caught his eyes on a chubby!reader. he tried to resist the fact that he's in love with someone that isnt even a match with his benefits. he'll look down at you and calling you mean word, he tried to make his own self move-on from you by busying himself, but neither of that work. in fact, he gets more and more in love, and more & more obsessed.

He's confused. why would he be in love with someone that didnt even match a single thing he has? he's smart, handsome, could pull anyone he wants yet he's in love with someone who is a complete opposite of his. this is ridiculous. this is dumb. he thinks you put a magic love spell on him. he fucking hates you. yet he still 'silently' following you everywhere you go. until he sees that you're getting closer to someone, he's gonna be annoyed. why would you hang out with them anyway? and he's gonna lose it when he knows that the person you talking to has a feelings for you. oh boy, he's gonna lose it!!

He tried to calm himself down. "this is so fucking ridiculous." thats all he said, yet his mind is still fulled by you and your stupid soft tummy. he really really lose it when the person that likes you trying to touch you, kiss you, and just trying to be more and more closer to you. he'd be coming from somewhere you cant see him coming and beat the shit out of that person, and after that he's gonna drag you up with him wheter you want it, or not.

and after that, he'll take you with him. he'll lock you up in room that you could consider as his and dont be surprised when you see the room is filled with a plenty photos of yours that you never take. in the darkness of the room, Sasuke will come up right in front of you, from the darkness. & in a mere of a second with his hand, he grip your neck hardly, almost choking you. and making you whimper. "didnt you fucking know how long i've been suffer seeing you hang out with someone!? happy without me!? are you really that dumb you dont even realize that there's someone who is much better than those that is in love with you!?" and while he said that with his ROCK-HARD cock that has been anching and twitching since he sees you.

and with that, he's gonna make you on your knees for him, and suck him off until he'd dried out while he saying something like "i fucking hate you" and we all know he didnt really mean it. in fact that was the time where he come so fucking hard in such a short time, and still he's unsatisfied.

And at the end of the day all of your faces is going to be covered by his dripping cum and your saliva, & he's gonna give you the messiest and the sloppiest kiss you've ever imagine. he cant help but chuckle when he see your eyes rolled back when you suck him off, he thinks its funny, hot and also cute (lol). but when he heard you say "are we d-done?" with cum dripping out of your mouth, his reaction would be a smirk ;) because the real fun has just begun. also he really wants to humiliate play with that soft tummy of yours so... Good (fucking) Luck :D.

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kiirotoao · 6 months

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Will the most beloved headcanons part 3: Byler edition! (AKA Mike being a simp headcanons)

Mike doesn’t like people touching his face. Like he’ll nope away from someone just trying to poke his cheek. But with Will? Complete opposite. Will can pinch his cheeks, trace his jaw, feel his forehead for fever - anything and everything

Same goes for hair touching, too. Nobody gets to play with his hair but Will

Mike is particular about his D&D character design and he only accepts changes or suggestions from Will

Mike likes to trade Halloween candy with Will and Will only (because Dustin, Lucas, Max, and El are quite judicial about trading candy lmao)

Mike sits still for nothing except when Will is painting him

When Mike gets his driver’s license, Will is his passenger princess for life and no one else can even dare to dream of taking shotgun

Similarly, when it’s raining, only Will gets to share umbrella space with him (like, come on, Dustin and Lucas can just deal with it)

Will is Mike’s dedicated beta reader for his novels

On that note, Will is the only other soul who’s seen all of Mike’s self-proclaimed embarrassing short stories and Star Wars fanfics

Also on that note, Mike only writes poetry for Will (duh)

Mike hates carrying big heavy things but when he and Will move into their place together, you better believe he did all the heavy lifting and made sure that Will didn’t to avoid Will getting hurt (even at the expense of himself, rip)

Okay so I headcanon that both Mike and Will are afraid of stray bugs in the house, but Mike will step up and kill or evacuate bugs for Will anyway

Mike thinks that sitting on someone’s lap? Someone sitting on his lap? Way too much body heat, way too close for comfort, get off me, dude. But he and Will splay over each other all the time because it’s Will, and Will is cozy :)

Similarly, doing footsies is so stupid. But with Will it’s adorable and Mike’s a giggly mess

Random but Mike only likes how Will makes eggs out of everyone in the Party (and he won’t eat it if it’s not Will’s lmao)

Now, Mike does readily lend things - paper, pencils, erasers - to other people in class, but he’s not too keen on it. But if Will needs something? He’s giving it with a bona fide smile

Mike also sometimes doesn’t like lending his time for that matter. Trying to help people with homework is exhausting, especially after being a tutor for Holly sometimes but if Will’s struggling with some homework Mike may as well have his doctorate in education

Mike thinks that it’s funny if someone has food on their face and he might not mention it but for Will he’ll go out of his way to remove it

Over the years of being together, Will has learned to beware mentioning that he likes or wants something, because Mike is buying/obtaining it plus a million different versions and styles

Mike doesn’t like singing or playing guitar in front of anyone but he’ll make an exception…

#Byler #I seriously had to delete a few things because I realized that they were just canon lmao #for example I ‘hc’ that Mike only stays awake for Will when waiting for him compared to waiting for anyone else #but that’s basically the s1e8 hospital waiting on Will to wake up scene #Mike wheeler my pookie #byler headcanon #byler headcanons #will byers #mike wheeler #oh headcanons I do adore #I am probably going to make a dozen more of these

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umnitsa · 1 month

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The Sailor's Knot

Summary: Thinking about what you lost throws you into a depression spiral. A handsome man brings you some help.

A/N: I had a dream and made it into a fanfic. This is written fully for myself and it's just two old people bonding over an old dog. <3 It's written from my experience with ADHD and I hope you guys enjoy it. Banner from @cafekitsune <3

Written with unholy eagerness and no proofreading!

Pairing: ADHD!Reader x Joel (Reader is also plus size, it just isn't an issue yet. Reader is about Joel's age.)

CW: Giant dog. Just that, this is very sweet and sad, in fact. Porn may come in later parts, because I enjoy it! <3

“So, what do you miss from before?”

The question took you by surprise as you raised your fork. You stopped, thinking of the zombie apocalypse, how life was and how happy you were for having reached Jackson. You shook your head, trying to avoid the bad feelings and memories from the early days of infection.

“To be honest? Dogs. Cats. Fuck, I miss house pets.” You sighed, looking at your friends. “I really enjoy the horses, but sometimes I wonder if we will ever be able to domesticate them again, I mean, the ones who were not spayed turned feral by now. And bred with wolves and wildcats.” You rambled away, and the people nodded around you. “Hell, I’d try if I ever knew how to do it. I mean, I know some about training dogs, but only the ones that are socialized from birth with humans… And cats… Damn, they chose to live with us, I never taught a cat to do one thing, just fed them and loved them.”

People nodded, smiling, and the older traded their memories with the younger as dinner continued. You felt it was a good way to keep history alive with these children. As you looked around, you tried to smile.

You missed your medicine too. It made life easier then, and it would make work damn easier now.

At least you could make yourself useful in the kitchen, and taking care of kids. You learned enough to help with the horses and the livestock, you learned to fix small things.

At least the community didn’t take your rambling as annoying. Most of them. And your distracted, wandering overactive mind, focused in all the wrong things at the wrong time, your bursts of weirdly philosophical irrelevant questions were seen as if you are a fae. An old soul. Someone disconnected from time and space, but useful and entertaining. You were a good storyteller and people enjoyed your silly performances and the comedy nights.

At least people know better than to get angry with you.

At least you found a way to survive.

You also missed books being widely available. And you missed all the stories that didn’t get to be told, drowned by natures own revenge. All the songs you didn’t get to hear, because they never existed. All the beautiful people that didn’t get to touch your heart acting, and singing, and performing.

You missed comedy. And the close proximity of a stranger in a crowded movie theater.

You missed the quiet inside your mind.

You felt two tears running through your cheeks. A hand heavily descended over your shoulder. You nodded, blindly. With a sad smile, you pat the person’s arm and stand up; you finish your food quickly, wash your plate and leave. They could take care of themselves for one day. ***

You loved Maria. And she really liked you back. She understood whenever you needed some time for yourself. She knew you would pay it back with work later.

That innocent question threw you into a wave of memories, and you had to ride your feelings by yourself. You felt glad you could.

The kids still came into your house to borrow books. With shy smiles, they quietly made their requests and politely asked how were you doing (as their parents asked them to do). You made an effort not to cry in front of them.

You were reading when you heard noise in front of your house. You opened the door, carelessly.

A man was standing in front of your house, with a giant dog in a makeshift leash.

You blinked, the surprise taking your ability to even process the moment.

“Found this fella in patrol.” The man’s voice was grave, almost a growl. “Thought you would like to meet him.”

The man was tall, his shoulders large. His hair unruly, more pepper than salt (probably looked like yours). He had round brown eyes, squashed by a frown. He had something heavy about him. An air of someone who had seen everything and the scars on his face alone are the only proof you need to believe it. You wondered how he would look laughing. His hawkish nose towered over thick, plush lips. You knew him.

Joel. He was ‘Tommy’s Brother’. And Tommy was ‘Maria’s Husband’.

The dog was immense, just like Joel. He looked like a german shepherd, with thick caramel fur blending into black, his ears floppy. You marveled looking at his massive frame, your heart tightening as you noticed a scar on his head, close to his eye, covered by the fur. The dog had the biggest, roundest dark eyes you’ve ever seen. He looked immensely dangerous, he could snap your hand off with his powerful jaws, but his eyes made him look gentle. The tip of his snout had a ring of white hair, silver peppering his snout gently. An old dog. Old like Joel, like you.

You approached, slowly, palms facing the dog, giving him time to get used to your presence. The dog leaned forward, sniffing your palms, huffing and shaking his giant head gently, floppy ears moving around his head. You kept your palm turned to the dog, who pressed his snout to your hand, watching you with his big eyes.

“He started following me out there.” Joel cocked his head. “Shared my hunt with him, and he slept around the fire. He’s well behaved. Think he lost his owner.”

“You should keep him.” You said softly, feeling into yourself to be generous. This dog was Joel’s luck and he should take him. It didn’t occur to you to ask him why he was bringing the dog, you weren’t even that close. “He’s a very handsome dangerous-looking gentleman. Like you.”

Joel blushed, a small smile on his face. He looked down and shook his head. You felt like he was saying something, you just couldn’t understand.

“I heard you the other day.” Joel held your hand and placed the leash in your hands. “I know…” Joel looked around awkwardly, like he was trying to piece a feeling into words. “I know this fella won’t fix things. I understand. But maybe he can bring our sunshine back.”

Joel nodded, looking into your eyes, and you could see his brown eyes peering into your soul, for one moment. It made you want to cry. You nodded, swallowing your feelings.

“Thank you.” You turned your eyes to the dog. He seemed to understand, sitting with his whole body pressed against your leg, up to your waist. His head heavily pressed against your hip, the dog waited patiently.

“Talked to Maria. It’s ok.” Joel cleaned his throat, clearing his voice. “You can keep him. Keep him inside, I’ll build the fence so you can have some space for him.” Joel shifted his weight from one leg to the other and got a fabric wrapped package from his pocket. He puts the package on your free hand. The dog raises his head, interested, which makes Joel chuckle. “Those are treats. He ate today, we just arrived, brought him right here.”

You nodded, smiling.

“We need to make sure he’s safe and you can help.” Joel nodded. “You can walk him in the leash, I’ve already asked Tommy to help us make a good one. Just for safety, I think he’s a good boy.”

You just watched as Joel offered his palm to the dog, then scratched behind his ear.

“He was really well behaved on the trail.” Joel said, softly, his fingers running through the dog’s fur. “I… I would like to visit. Play with him. Maybe help you. He was good company out there.”

“Of course!” You eagerly accepted, infinitely grateful for his gesture. You didn’t overthink why he brought you the dog, what did it mean that he saw your outburst. That would be for later. You just accepted, the dog’s eyes bringing you more joy than you could imagine. “You found him, you were the first friend he made around Jackson. Why shouldn’t you visit him?”

“I’ll be here in the morning. I’ll try and get him some hunt, then we can build the fence.” Joel nodded, stepping back. The dog sniffed the air, gently. Joel scratched the dog’s chin and stepped back, moving away from you.

“Thank you!” You shouted one last time, and he waved. The dog followed you inside. You locked the door, not wanting one of your frequent visitors to get scared with your new roommate, hid the treats in the cupboard, then placed a water bowl on the floor. The dog quietly watched you, sitting in the living room.

You finally sat, and the dog curled up against you, between your feet. He slept, leaving you to your tears as you caressed his scar.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #mayb writes

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keigosstarlight · 5 months

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Pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

Warnings: NSFW/18+, kidnapping, captive darling, noncon & dubcon, BJ, head pushing/guiding, mind break(?) (reader is sympathetic after a bit), praise & degradation, calling reader "pet," reader calls Dabi "Touya," burning, punishments.

Wordcount: <1000 (700+)

Summary: A.U. where Dabi kidnaps you after he's killed Endeavor.

A/N: This is the first fanfic that I've ever shared. 🫣 I also don't write a lot anymore, so I'm hoping it's decent enough. This was originally a fem reader, but I wanted to be more inclusive, so apologies if I missed anything! I read this like eight times, but shit happens. My brain is fried and I wrote this in like an hour.

You resisted when Dabi kidnapped you, but after that first night when he punished you, you decided it wasn’t worth it. He had fucked you senseless, face buried the mattress as your tears stained the sheets. The fading burn on your hip is a constant reminder how he held you despite your pleas, the stinging sensation of the flesh now numb in your memories since your brain forcibly detached. The events are fuzzy at best and completely hidden at worst.

Besides, he treats you well enough, rewarding your obedience with some new clothes that you were sure were more for his eyes than your own happiness, your own toiletries, and a cute little collar with a “T” on it. Of course, if he takes you anywhere, they have to know you belong to someone. He even gave you your own bedroom to retreat to. Sure, he barged in sometimes and invited himself to your bed, but his heat was a comfort now. When you woke up to his palm pressed to your stomach as he held you close, it was almost enough to make you forget.

Every day, you watched the news with him while they replayed his video, time and time again. You heard the details of how his father abandoned him, that his father only married his mother for what her quirk could provide - every single day. After so long of hearing about that abuse, of seeing the anger in his face every time the number one hero showed up, one day you felt you couldn’t be mad at him anymore. Despite Endeavor being dead now, it wasn’t enough to soothe that fire in his heart. You felt sympathy for his broken childhood.

You hated it, and yet, for some reason, the way he looks at you makes your heart skip today.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Touya?"

Dabi gives a teasing smirk, his gaze still glued to your body as he replies, "Because I can, sweetheart. Is there an issue?"

"No."

You’re so confused, but you can’t deny how badly you want him. You fight the urge to move closer, but as hard as you wrestle with it, you give in, scooting inch by inch closer to him on the sofa until your hand comes to rest on his cheek. Your thighs brush together, the warmth is all so familiar.

"I've missed your touch, Touya."

Surprise flashes in his eyes at the affection, but this is what he’s wanted since he claimed you, so he's not questioning a damn thing.

"Good pet, I knew you'd like it." he praises with a smile.

He caresses your cheek as he looks at you with a lustful grin, his touch becoming more daring as he slides his other hand to your inner thigh.

"Now, I want you to make me feel good, and I think you know how."

Your breath hitches as you bite your lip anxiously, but your response is immediate.

"Yes, Touya."

The verbal obedience is enough to make his dick twitch, but when your hands come to help him undo his belt and pants, that's when he knows he’s got you right where he wants you; completely and utterly his - body, mind, and soul. There was no need for restraints, no need for force, to manipulate your body how he wanted. As much as he loved having that power over you, hearing you choke on his cock while you rested your pretty hand on his thigh instead of pushing away screaming was so much better.

Muffled noises of your pleasure vibrate around his dick as he toys with your nipples, earning a hum of approval from your captor. Your sweet tongue swirling around the head of his cock makes his eyes roll back. He places a hand to the back of your head, gently guiding you up and down as he lets out sighs of bliss. His attention is locked on you while you take every inch of him, pubes tickling your face, his scent filling your nose as you gag for a moment before he lets you back up.

"Good fuckin' pet." He grunts, head rolled back on the couch’s back.

He fucks your mouth at a steady pace, hips thrusting upwards as your mouth slides over him. Once, twice, three times, he spurts down your throat and you swallow every drop of the salty cum with a slight cringe. Though you’re much more willing now, it doesn't make the taste any better. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, shifting on your knees as you look up at him panting softly as you catch your breath. His eyes flutter, his palm reaching to caress your cheek, a smirk coming over his face.

“So obedient, so submissive. You finally know your place.”

#birdie chirps #birdie writes #I made a thing?!#I'm having a lot of issues with formatting atm #respectfulsimping #touya todoroki x reader #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha smut #todoroki touya smut #todoroki touya x you #tw: noncon #tw: kidnapping #tw: dubcon #tw: degradation #dabi mha #todoroki touya x reader

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cosette141 · 1 year

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Write and Create for Yourself First | thoughts on fanfiction, art and external validation

When it comes to fanfiction, or any creation for that matter, so many people judge their own fics, art and talent by the amount of interaction with it.

I only know because I recently used to be one of them.

For people who seek external validation, if they have a story that has a thousand kudos or notes, they consider it worthy.

But if it has only 2, or god forbid none, then they feel like it wasn’t good or they “wasted their time” writing it. But that’s just not true, and it’s such a hurtful way of thinking about yourself and your own work. It’s only human to feel drawn towards external validation, but it’s your choice whether or not to chase it.

I implore you to think about it a different way, and hopefully make you feel a little better if you are the kind of person who thinks this way. Because in most cases, kudos, likes, comments, interaction—it’s a reflection of exposure, your current following, the luck of an algorithm, the traffic to that specific corner of the internet, or just how niche of a genre you’re creating in.

Not talent.

Think about this: imagine someone you idolize, respect or even envy the talent and success of. It could be a famous musician, author, a fellow fic writer—anyone who is successful and talented.

Now ask yourself: if no one in the world, not one single soul, ever saw any creation this person ever made…

Would it make that person any less talented?

If that famous musician never shared their music with anyone, are they no longer talented? Are they any less worthy of feeling confident in themselves and their work? Should they feel any less about themselves because they don’t have anyone validating their talent and ability?

If your favorite book writer kept their stories to themselves and never shared them, are they any less brilliant?

No.

But society makes it seem like it.

Think about your favorite books or movies or fanfics—(not your own, but someone else’s work that you love)—that don’t have a lot of kudos or likes or engagement. You love this story/creation. It touched you and you can see how incredible it is. Does it matter that the rest of the world doesn’t? Does it make you love it any less? Do you look at the kudos count and then say “Oh, wait, now it isn’t good anymore.” How many times are you commenting on something saying “I can’t believe this doesn’t have more comments/likes/etc!”

Do you realize how many people say that about the fics you’ve written that have little engagement? Even if they don’t tell you, there are people who are thinking it. There are countless posts and comments on tumblr from people who admit they don't comment because they simply are shy or don't know what to say.

External validation is a dangerous hole to fall into. Because the more you reach for it, the more you rely on it, the deeper you fall.

The easiest way to avoid falling into that hole is to look at your creation the moment you’ve created it, and capture the feeling you have right then and there. What does it make you feel? Did it help you cope? Did it make you smile or laugh? Did it make you cry and ease some of your emotional weight? Did you just feel that you created an incredible thing, and that you love it so much?

Someone liking it or not liking it doesn’t change what you feel in that moment.

Sometimes, you just have to wait for your time. Maybe your creation needs a few years and then it’ll get noticed and you’ll be rolling in success.

Does that mean you’re supposed to feel sad and invalidated until that happens?

If you currently have a creation that’s seen some external validation already, what would you tell your past-self who just posted it, and is waiting for engagement, thinking it isn’t good enough until they get some?

Think of all the time you spent sad, waiting for everyone else to change your mind. Think about how much power you’re giving them! Imagine that person whose underappreciated fic you love. If they were sad about it, what would you tell them?

Because sometimes, there are just things that won’t get exposure. There are just tv shows that won’t get picked up or movie deals that fall through and never get made, books that never get published and fics that never get read.

And if that is devastating to you, I ask you why you’re writing them in the first place.

Of course we all want to share our creations and get comments and positive reviews. And they are wonderful and fulfilling and inspiring and motivating! But if they are the only reason you are creating, if you always feel you wasted your time on a story that receives little interaction, you will feel empty so much of the time. You will always be wanting more, because you are focused on the quantity of them. When you are in this mindset, the moment after you finish reading the most heartfelt review you’ve ever gotten... you’re already waiting to get the next one.

But instead, if you create for yourself, if you sit in that moment of creation and you feel incredible about it, just between you and yourself… and you remember that feeling and that fact even after posting it publicly, everything else is just extra. It’s just the cherry on top. If you wrote that story because you needed to get something off your chest and you did, it doesn’t matter what someone else thinks of it.

If you felt incredible when creating art, then that art is incredible.

Hopefully, you are sharing your work with people, rather than writing it for them. Or, more accurately, for their positive feedback and compliments. Comments are sweeter when they aren’t viewed as payment to you or validation, and are instead like a gift to you.

You are always happy with your work if you view it this way.

You are sometimes happy with your work, depending on the actions of other people, if you rely on external validation.

Obviously you can do whatever you want! It’s your life and it’s your creations. But I can at least tell you that you will be a lot happier if you create for yourself first and take everything else as a wonderful surprise addition.

Because as someone who has climbed back out of that external validation hole and saw the sun for the first time in a long time, I can at least tell you that it has been so much happier for me.

I wrote an addition to this post to answer this question: How do you write for yourself first when you are making writing a professional career? That post is here!

#writing #fanfiction #writing advice #writing motivation #fanfic writing #fanfics #fanfic #writing fanfiction #writing fanfics #external validation #fanfic comments #fanfic writers #fanfiction writers #fanfic reviews #ao3 comments #ao3 stuff #writing struggles #writing inspiration #ffn comments

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pascaloverx · 1 month

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Invisible Bonds: The Power of Destiny

Author's Note: This fanfic contains possible strong language and explores themes of unconventional love. The relationship between the protagonists will be handled with sensitivity, without explicit scenes. If there are explicit scenes, readers will be warned. This fanfic focuses on the reader's relationship with Jungkook and Taehyung, separately.

previous chapter

Chapter Sixteen (FINAL)

Like a wave of memories, as soon as you enter Taehyung's house, something lights up inside you. Do you remember the first time you came to this house, it was a day like today, rainy. Taehyung said he wanted you to be the first to see his house. You were so happy that even in the middle of heavy rain, you went to visit him. Do you remember thinking that your love for him was stronger. Your memories were so blurry but the sensations of liking Taehyung made you feel a love greater than anything. Until the soul connection made you feel things for Jungkook. The feeling of remembering these moments was like a movie playing in your head.

"Can I ask you something a little personal?" You ask Taehyung as soon as you sit down on his couch.

"Why did you leave your soulmate to be with me?" You ask unceremoniously as if it were a trivial question but in reality the answer to that question would be crucial.

"Right after we discovered your connection with Jungkook, I thought about what my life would be like if there wasn't a soulmate connection. And it was obvious to me. I would be with you. Not because you're my best friend but because being with you always made me feel good." Taehyung speaks and you know exactly what he means. You always felt at home with him. But now that seems so little to want to be with someone.

"But friends also feel good around each other. I think maybe that's our mistake. Just because I love you and you love me doesn't mean we have to be together." You say almost trying to convince yourself.

"Do you think we should just stay as friends then?" Taehyung asks as he stands there looking at you like someone who is confused.

"I think if you and I stayed together, we would be risking ending our friendship. I don't want to lose you but I don't want to put our friendship at risk." You don't even know where the courage to talk about this came from. Maybe old memories made something change in you.

"Isn't it worth the risk?" Taehyung says, sitting next to you. Their eyes are teary and you feel like it's breaking both of your hearts.

"I love you, Kim Taehyung. And I really want you to be happy but I'd rather be your best friend." You say, slowly approaching Taehyung and hugging him afterwards.

"Can't we be friends with benefits?" Taehyung He speaks in a slightly tearful voice, but laughing and you laugh along with him.

"I think this could still ruin our friendship as we can see. But ask me that in a while. Maybe I'll change my mind." You say laughing and wiping away some tears that were falling of his face and then he placed a light peck on your lips. Some hours then you were arriving at your place. Jungkook coincidentally was leaving his apartment right at the moment you were arriving.

"Jungkook. I have a proposal for you. Feel free to refuse but I would like you to say..." You start to speak but are interrupted by Jungkook's lips pressed against yours. A kiss surprises It wasn't what you expected.

"I missed you." That's what Jungkook says as soon as you separate your lips. You smile.

"I noticed. So, as bizarre as it sounds...I remembered a few things. I think I resolved our love triangle, and I think we both We should get to know each other better." You say while lightly touching Jungkook's chest, visualizing all of his tattoos that you can get.

"And what do you want to do?" Jungkook questions, still very close to you but smiling.

"A few romantic dates and we don't need to feel pressured. I'm just going to make it clear that this doesn't change my friendship with Taehyung. Can it be like that?" You ask hopefully.

"Sounds like a good idea. Would you like to go out with me now?" Jungkook asks as he holds your hand and gives a kiss on you.

And that might have been the end of the story, or you might have married Jungkook or decided to take a risk with Taehyung, but personally you lived every moment from then on, living free, to explore your feelings for both boys.

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moobell55 · 6 months

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Your Love Made It Well Worth Waiting (For Someone Like You)

A very fluffy fanfic

This part contains no Smut, however a second part with smut will be posted soon

Evangeline never thought she'd been the kind of women to want a quick elopement; as a young girl she'd dreamed of a beautiful wedding full of family and friends.

But Evangeline no longer had a family, and the moment she'd been waiting for her entire life would be better alone.

Her feet shook as she walked the lite path. Flower petals lined the ground, brilliant colors that even stood out against the darkening sky. Her pink and white dress swayed around her feet, gold lacing lining the skirts and her corset.

For the first time since coming to The Magnificat North Evangeline Fox truly felt like she belonged to royalty. A crown of wildflowers rest in her hair, she spent all day making it away from her soon to be husband.

Overhead the moon and stars showed to their fullest, like all the celestials' in the sky were here for her wedding.

The thought brought warmth to her heart, that some greater force led them to each other, finding peace for both of them.

Her feet walked on their down towards the dock, where her true love awaited her. Her heart beat frantically, something in her mind telling her this was too good to be true. After all the suffering that they'd gone through that someone would tear them apart again.

But Hope rang through her soul, and Evangeline could not resist its call.

The Silver ring on her finger felt like a beacon to him, and like a moth to a burning inferno Evangeline followed.

Her pace picked up when she caught sight of the tall man waiting for her at the end of the dock, his gilded hair gleaming under the stars. The look that crossed his Silver eyes set her heart ablaze, she felt like she was burning in the sweetest of fires.

Jacks held out his hand and Evangeline took it as if it was the last thing she'd ever do. She'd die in the next moment if she didn't touch him; she'd cry a million tears to have his lips against hers.

And every part of her existence knew Jacks had done the same without her. Knew of all the blooded tears he cried searching for her, the corpse left in his wake while he lost hope looking for her.

Evangeline had enough hope in her heart for both of them.

Evangeline was the only star in the sky that mattered, the only saint he would pray to, the candle that guided him home, the arrow that always struck true.

She was his as last, and after a thousand years of searching for his one and only true love, Jacks was happy.

Something he'd only been when he knew her, those gray eyes had haunted his soul since his first gaze upon her in his church. He wondered back then if she'd remain a tool, but she hadn't been in a long time.

He could remember the first time he held her, despite his displeasure he cherished the moment. Wanting to hold her again when she'd healed, wanted her lips upon his, wanted her warm body against his fridge one.

He loved the women in front of him more than anything in this world, he defied death and time to keep her safe. He did the impossible, and for her he'd do much more.

Nothing mattered except for her, nothing would ever compare to her.

Jacks would kill for the women in his arms, he'd die and pray to every god to be reborn to find her again. He'd search every corner of the world, every village and every house if it meant having her.

In this life and whatever came the day after he will face his mortality he would be hers.

Perhaps he was hers from the moment he drew his first breath in this world?

In his Soul he knew it was true.

For Jacks of The Hollow, Jacks the Prince of Hearts, and The Archer, had always belonged to his Fox. His heart beat for one purpose, the women who wore his ring.

He smiled a brilliant thing that lite up the night sky and Evangeline's heart.

She spoke, "Shall we Wed now my beloved?"

Her voice shook, but he smiled and guided her to the end of the dock.

Candles set alight on the dock posts, flicking in the darkness.

He'd spent hours preparing this for her, so she could have the closest thing to her dream as she could.

How she loved this man in front of her.

A spool of Red ribbon rested on the dock, next to his silver dagger that she was all to familiar with.

"This is one of the old ways," his voice spoke at last, "my parents married this way, Honora and Wolfric married this way, and if they had more time Lyric and Aurora would've too."

He paused, "This is truly the only way I know how, legend says that it binds two soul together, so that they will always find each other."

Evangeline smiled and cupped his face in warm hands, her smile could've stopped wars and almost stopped his heart.

"I do not need a piece of ribbon to bind your soul to mine, my heart decided a long time ago that we will always be bound."

Jacks smiled kindly and rested his forehead against hers, and she to knew that he never wanted to this moment.

This state of bliss and love that would start the rest of their lives, their happily ever after awaited them on the other side of that ribbon.

How does it begin?

Her words slipped into his mind, not wanting to break the silence.

I'll measure a piece of ribbon, that we'll wrap around are arms, the binding words are spoken from the bride first than the groom.

Her heart fluttered.

And then what my Love?

His smile turned devilish.

He spoke, "We kiss, and then I take my new bride home and consummate our marriage."

Evangeline smiled and crashed her lips against his, the sound of his joyous laughter echoed across the lake.

And after an eternity of waiting, Jacks began cutting the Red ribbon of Fate.

He dropped his knife and it clatter somewhere he didn't care to look, he couldn't take his eyes off his Evangeline.

And carefully with their hands interlocked, Jacks began binding the ribbon around their arms.

Evangeline swore that her soul felt as it was clinging onto Jacks, her life was connected to his in every sense possible.

Messily Jacks tied the knot at the bottom and took a breath.

"The bride will say her vows first ," his tied hands squeezed hers.

"With the Ribbon I bind thee, soul and body to the keeper of my heart and holder of my hand. To Wed and love, for the remainder of my days and for even more after we fade."

As she withdrew a golden ring from her pocket, and carefully slide it onto Jacks long pale fingers.

As she looked up Jacks met her eyes, an eternal happiness burning in his soul not even the lake could put out.

And breathlessly he began his binding.

"With the Ribbon I bind thee, soul and body to the keep of my heart and the holder of my hand. To Wed and love, for the remainder of my days and for even more after we fade."

As Jacks slide the silver ring onto her finger she felt a pull to her heart, a pull that Jacks felt too.

A burning in her heart and soul that her husband felt too.

She didn't have time to dwell on it; as Jacks crashed his lips to her and carefully pulled apart the ribbon.

His lips consumed her, every inch of her belonged to him and she knew the man who was revenging her lips felt the same.

Carefully without her noticing Jacks placed the ribbon into his jacket pocket, he knew she would want to keep it for years to come.

And while still distracted Jacks swept his wife up bridal style and began walking towards their home, his lips not once leaving hers.

And so Evangeline Fox was carried by Jacks of the Hollow into their happily ever after.

#evajacks #stephanie garber #evangeline fox #jacks prince of hearts #tbona #tbona spoilers #the ballad of never after #ouabh #jacks x evangeline #ouabh spoilers #acftl #a curse for true love #once upon a broken heart #evajacks fanfiction #evangeline x jacks

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carlos55edits · 1 year

Text

Rhythm of Love

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Warning: Smut

Note: Hello everyone and welcome to my first fanfic! You may know me as Carlos55edits from Tik Tok and Twitter. I make edits of THE Carlos Sainz Jr. I wanted to try something new and write some(spicy)fanfics about Carlos. I have never done this before and I’m a little nervous about it! But other than that, I hope you all enjoy this and let me know what you think!

PLEASE DO NOT TAKE MY STORIES AND PLAGIARIZE THEM OR REPOST THEM! THANKS! ❤️

_____________________________________

You were so glad to make it home after the tough day you had. You sit in your car with your head leaning on the back of the seat, letting out a sigh as you think about the hell that your job has put you though.

As you exited the Ferrari car, you hear your heels clicking on the pavement, walking up towards your home that you shared with your wonderful husband. You couldn’t wait to see him because he was the one that could always make your day much better with just his smile, kisses, and touches. Thinking about him was the only thing that kept you sane.

As you opened the door, soft and slow music fills the air as it fills your ears. You close the door and take off your heels, putting your car keys in the bowl on the table. You walk into the living room, listening to the music that is playing, closing your eyes, forgetting how today truly tested your patience.

Lost in the melodies, you start rocking side to side to the rhythm. Taking a deep breath as all the stress leaves your body as the music completely takes over your soul. Each word that is being sung through the speakers is connecting with your mind, body, and soul.

As you are lost in the music, you feel arms being wrapped around your waist and someone’s head leaning on your shoulder, swaying to the music with you. You can feel his torso pushed up against your back. His cologne fills your nose. Your body relaxes against his as you wrap your hands along his arms and smile.

He starts singing the song in your ear so softly with the music. It is almost as if you are in a trance. Everything fades in the background as the only thing you can hear is his heavy Spanish accent singing in your ear.

He turns you around and pulls you closer to him. You look into his brown eyes and his handsome smile, taking in all of his brilliant facial features from his silky-smooth brown hair to the stubble of his beard. You reach up and rub his stubble as you smile at him. He smiles and leans in to give you the most tender kiss on your lips.

After the day you had, this is what you looked forward to. Feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and giving you sweet tender kisses.

Those tender kisses turned into deeper ones. Carlos grips the back of your head and pushed you closer. His tongue pressing against your lips asking for access. You grant him access as you feel his tongue pressed against yours. You didn’t understand how intoxicated you become just from his kisses alone. You felt so high that it feels like your soul leaves your body every time.

He pulls back from kissing you, licking his lips to taste the flavored lipstick that you had on. He takes your hand and leads you upstairs. Before he enters into the bedroom, Carlos picks you up and lays you on the bed softly.

You sit up on your elbows, watching him unbutton his shirt. He throws his shirt somewhere on the side of the bed. You reach up to rub on his abs as you both lock eyes with each other, feeling the heat rising. He leans down to give you more kisses on your lips, traveling down you neck, lifting up your shirt as he travels further down.

He helps you take off your shirt and bra, admiring the beauty that is laying underneath him. He kisses your chest, sucking and licking one of your nipples. Your mouth instantly opens, moaning as he takes each nipple into his mouth.

Carlos moves down your body kissing your stomach and unbuttoning your pants. He takes them off along with your underwear. The smell of your wetness instantly hitting him and his eyes turning darker, filled with nothing but want. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you towards him at the end of the bed. He kisses both of your thighs with soft kisses, sucking on them to leave marks because he knows that you are his.

He reaches your aching core, licking a strip along your wetness. You take in a sharp breath as you begin to beg him to give you what you want.

“Please.”

He dives in without warning, making you arch your back off the bed. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he devours you, savoring your wetness. His favorite taste in the world. He pays special attention to your clit because he knows that it will make you explode.

“Fuck baby, right there. Keep doing that.”

You feel you release approaching. You can’t stop moving or moaning. He adds a finger inside you as he sucks on your clit.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum baby! Fuuuuuc-”

You orgasm hit you like a wave, shaking while Carlos holds done by your thigh as you ride out your orgasm. You swore that you blacked out for a moment because it hit you so hard.

You finally came down from your high as Carlos comes up and kisses you, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Mmmm. Good girl cumming for me beautiful. You taste so damn good.”

He kisses you again, before you flipped him on his back, straddling his hips. You lean down to give him a kiss on his chest, sliding down to his hard-on that is bulging through his pants. You kiss him through his pants while you unbutton them, taking his pants off, his cock springing free.

Precum was dripping from his hard cock. You lick your lips as you look him in the eyes. You take his cock in your hands, stroking him, licking the precum from the tip. Small grunts leave his mouth. You take the tip into your hot mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks as you take more of him in your mouth, moving up and down slowly. You move down further to his balls, taking each one into your mouth, then going back up to take him fully again.

You look up, locking eyes with him. He leans his head back, closing his eyes enjoying the wetness and warmth of your mouth wrapped around him.

“Fuck your mouth feels so good. I bet your pussy would feel even better wrapped around me.”

He pulls you up to his lips, kissing you with want, as you grind your pussy on his cock. You reach between you and him, grabbing his cock and lining him up to your entrance. You sink down slowly on him, you both sigh at the feeling of you two becoming one.

You start bouncing up and down on him slowly, while he guides you, having his hands on your ass. You grab his shoulders, leaning your head back while he kisses your neck.

Carlos, flips you your back, never leaving your body. He slowly starts thrusting inside of you, making you beg him to go faster.

“Faster. You know I like it rough...daddy.”

A smile crept slowly on his face. He grabs your legs putting them over his shoulders, leaning down to make sure he was as deep as he can go inside you. He started thrusting so hard inside you. You felt like were going to cum as soon as you felt him moving. You grab the sheets because you need to grab onto something.

“Is this what you wanted babygirl? You wanted me to fuck you like a little slut?”

You shake your head up and down because you were unable to speak. You couldn’t think because you were so focused on how this handsome man was fucking you so hard, making you feel so good.

Carlos wraps his hand around your throat, applying a little bit of pressure, looking you in your eyes. You close your eyes, opening your mouth to moan his name.

“Open those beautiful eyes babygirl. I want to see them when you cum on my cock.”

You open your eyes and stare into his. Your breathing becomes labored as you feel your climax approaching.

“I’m gonna fucking cum! Fuck!”

Your body starts shaking and your back arched off of the bed, gripping the sheets underneath your hands. Carlos held your shaking legs, still thrusting inside of you, making you squirt on his cock. He has never made you squirt before.

“Damn baby, you are squirting all over daddy’s cock.”

The feeling of you squeezing him was bringing him close to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum in your tight pussy baby. You feel so fucking tight around me.”

He pushed deep inside you, cumming. You feel the warmth of his cum filling you up. He moans your name as his thrust become slower. He collapses on top of you as you both are heavy breathing, trying to recover.

Carlos slides out of you slowly, some of his cum leaking out of you. He leaves to go grab a towel to clean both of you up. He lays down beside you, pulling you onto his chest, kissing your forehead. Before you knew it, you were falling asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

#carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz one shot

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sickvictorianangel · 9 months

Text

✩ Cardigan ✩

Arthur Morgan x Gender Neutral Reader

Just a little drabble inspired by the song Cardigan (Taylor Swift). I had this idea about the reader (any gender you like), reminiscing about their relationship with Arthur, before the tuberculosis.

TW: All my stories are 18+, illness, dealing with loss, grief, typical game violence. Minors DNI!

My other fanfics ♡

Tag list: @margofiore

♡ Dividers by Saradika ♡

♡ Dividers (DNI) by CafeKitsune ♡

“Cause I knew you

Steppin' on the last train

Marked me like a bloodstain,

I knew you

Tried to change the ending

Peter losing Wendy…”

The sun was setting somewhere in the west, leaves were falling, the cold air was nipping at every bit of my exposed skin. There I was, seated on a cold bench, waiting for the next train to come. And all I could think about was You.

The year is 1907 and things are changing abruptly. The modern times you were so afraid of are finally here. People are turning more and more enslaved to their jobs and to a society that only cares about power and money. Same thing that destroyed the life I once knew, and the same thing that took you from me. I still think about you, I still miss you and I still love you, Arthur Morgan.

Every page of your journal is a memory coming to life. John gave it to me after you were gone. And talking about him, You did it, you gave them a safe life. John and Abigail are now finally married, Jack has a safe home and has a chance to become something better than what we once were. Uncle is tagging along (he is the same lazy old man, some things never change, apparently), Charles and Sadie joined them for some time too. Everyone else survived, Pearson owns a general store in Rhodes, Tilly is married and living a beautiful life in Saint Denis. Mary-Beth is a known writer, the Reverend is now in New York living an honest life, and Dutch… Well, we don’t know much about him, Karen,Javier and Bill. And Micah… Micah is gone. John couldn’t live peacefully if he knew Micah was still alive and well. I know you would be against us trying to avenge you, but we had to do it. For you, my love.

And me…? Oh dear, I am still stuck in 1899. The time when everything was easier, when you were here with me. Turning back some pages, I’ve found a drawing of my face, sleeping in the Blackwater hotel’s bed. I can feel everything so vividly, the smell of tobacco and whiskey still lingers on me. Your turquoise eyes staring at the depths of my soul, your warm touch on my skin. Your dry but soft lips, always kissing me with passion. Your lovely words ringing in my ears. Your laughter, your smile, the tears you tried to hide so many times. All I can think about is you. It has been years since you passed, but for me it still feels like yesterday. It is too soon for me to move on. And my love, I would never fully be over you.

You were everything I knew, since I was young, it was always you. I remember joining the gang when you and I were both in our 20s. You were heartbroken from all the pain life threw on you. For me, it was love at the first sight. You were so beautiful, kind and loyal. It always makes me smile when I remember you bringing me a cup of coffee every morning you were at camp. Always telling me about your adventures. The craziest stories someone could ever tell. I could always count on you to cheer me up, to hug my pain and sadness away. But my favorite memory about you is when we both confessed our love for each other… I still dream about this day. Your presence hunts me everywhere, Arthur. All the places you’ve been. All the things we did together. In every corner I can see you. In every person you helped, in all the places you bled… The place where I last saw you, the place you saw your last sunrise and the place your body was laid to rest. It is always gonna be about you. And now, as I wait for my train here in Valentine, I still can feel your presence lingering. It is like the whole town is stuck in the 1800s and nothing changed. What I am about to confess, my darling, will sound so silly. But, as I stare into the nothingness, I still hope to see you. Something inside of me still hopes this is all a bad nightmare and I will wake up and you will be by my side looking healthy, strong and full of life. Because that is how I chose to remember you.

My sweetheart, you drew stars around all my scars and now that you are not here, I was left bleeding. In a place full of people, I still feel lonely. I wish with all these new technologies, someone could build a machine able to bring you back to me. I wish there was a way for me to go back in time. To have everyone safe and happy together. Singing around the fire, drinking, dancing… To wake up with the sounds of everyone chatting. A new day starting, with you always by my side.But that will never happen, and I need to make peace with that. Now, I will just patiently wait for my time to come. So I can finally be with you, my love.

Because I know someday, when everything passes, You will come back to me.

#SoundCloud #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction

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ichijager13 · 3 months

Text

Teach Me How To Be Loved

Chapter XV Who am I to sympathize when no one gave a damn

Pairing : Eren Jäger x reader, past relationships: Reiner Braun x reader, Jean kristein x reader

Characters: Eren Jäger, Annie Leonhart, Pieck Finger, Reiner Braun, Jean Kristein, Carla Jäger, Sophie Jäger.

Tags: Unhealthy coping mechanism, unhealthy relationships, childhood trauma, physical and verbal abuse, self-esteem and trust issues, domestic violence, implied/ referenced cheating, and a touch of sweet, lovable, and non fuckboy Eren Jäger

This fic is brought to you by Lana Del Rey’s songs

Masterlist, AO3, Playlists: Reader’s POV, Eren’s POV

A/N: Hey, hey, heeeeeey! Guess who have decided to pick up her fanfic and update it. Yes, this lazy Ichi! I'm really sorry for taking so long to update, I didn't abandon this story, I promise.

Also thank you so much for reading and supporting my works.

Ichi ❤️

Quickly glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you tucked the rebellious locks behind your ear and smoothed your ponytail. It took you a while before you realized you were smiling at the woman staring back at you. Lately, you had been smiling a lot. You were sleeping better, and you felt happier. It was all thanks to him. Thanks to Eren.

With this thought in mind, you opened the door and threw yourself in his arms.

“Easy girl. You startled me.” He giggled, wrapping his arms around you. Nothing eased your soul and mind more than his warm embraces and presence. Whenever he was around, you felt light and carefree. Like the first page of a new sketchbook. “I just went to buy some croissants a couple of blocks away.” His voice was warm and soothing, like the first ray of sun after months of cold winter. “How about we continue this inside?" he asked a few seconds later, playfully poking your nose.

Smiling, you laced your fingers with his and led him inside your apartment.

There was something about this man that made you feel warm and fuzzy. Something you had always tried to name but failed to Was it his emerald green eyes and the way they looked at you as if you were a unique piece of art? The tone of his voice that softened whenever you were around? The bright smile that made his eyes shine and your heart jump in its place? Maybe it was the way his heartbeat synched perfectly with yours whenever you found yourself in his embrace? Or maybe it was all of the above and much, much more.

The feeling of his hand caressing your hair lovingly brought you back to reality.

“What’s on your mind, love?” he asked, offering you one of those smiles that made you want to hug him and never let go.

“You,” you instantly replied without thinking. Your cheeks turned crimson the second you realized what you had just said. Feeling shy, you buried your face in his chest.

He slowly cupped your chin and made you look at him. A smile curled up the corners of his mouth before his arms dropped to your waist. “I’m happy I’m up there,” he breathed against your lips before leaving a couple of chaste kisses. “Did you eat?” he inquired as he pulled away, and it made your heart melt. You had no idea what you did to deserve someone like him, but you were glad to have him in your life.

“No, was waiting for my handsome man.” A cheeky smile adorned your blushing face, making him chuckle.

“What a lucky man!”

After you two had breakfast, you did the dishes while he went to take a shower. You were about to finish when you heard the soft ding of received notifications.

A few seconds later, you grabbed your phone and checked the notification.

You had no clue how long you had been standing there, staring at your phone in shock. Feeling overwhelmed by your racing thoughts and feelings, you didn’t even notice Eren’s presence until he placed a hand on your shoulder and called your name.

“Are you alright, love?” His voice was filled with genuine concern as his eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, pocketing your phone. “Just one of those war videos popped in.” You managed to pull up a smile before looking at him. “Want me to blow-dry your hair for you, dear?” you asked, hugging him.

Please don’t ask more questions.

“Would love to!”

Relief washed over you as those words came out of him.

After he left, you spent most of the evening staring at the text you received earlier that day. The number wasn’t registered, but you knew it was your sibling’s.

The noises coming from the living room were terrifying. Feeling your sibling’s small body tremble next to you, you moved closer and wrapped both arms around the frail silhouette. Your father had always scared you to death, but there were nights, like this one, when the word fear failed to come close to describing what you were feeling.

Hiding in your closet, you tried to stay as quiet as possible. If only you could stay hidden until he’d pass out on the couch from how much he drank that night. Trying to remember why he was angry this time, your brain kept racing as angry curses and threats reached your ears. You kept repeating that you needed to remain quiet, to not lose your grip and cry, to not utter a sound or a breath. You needed to stay here until the storm passed. You needed to hide your little sibling. To protect them from the monster you referred to as ‘dad’.

Dad, the word rotted in your mouth and felt like poison each time you said it. Deep down inside, you knew that you had a father, not a dad.

‘Dad passed away last night. The funeral will be held this Thursday afternoon.’ Your eyes scanned the two lines over and over again. It felt weird because, for you, your father died the day you left for college over a decade ago.

Sitting on the floor, bearfoot, you continued staring at your screen. Having no idea what you were experiencing, you let your head fall back as your tears silently traveled down your flushed cheeks.

Why are you crying now? The voice inside your head scoffed. He finally got what he deserved.

But you knew you weren’t crying because of that. You weren’t sad because he died or for his loss. How could you be sad for losing what you never had? How could you cry over someone who has hurt you for years? Someone you would never forgive. And even if you wanted to, it was too late. You crossed the point of no return years ago, and there was no going back now. There was nothing to go back for.

Remember all the things he did to you? all the bruises and stitches. All the scars and wounds. The voice kept arguing. Remember how he hurt you? how he damaged you. how he brought you down and broke you to pieces. The voice persisted. It became angrier, slowly becoming scary. He’s worse than Jean.

You knew that, and you weren’t willing to forgive him for that. You never intended to do so.

Then why the fuck are you crying?

You wished you had an answer, but you didn’t. You wished you weren’t this lost. You wished the news left you indifferent.

A couple of hours later, you finally found the resolve to stand up and go finish your work. With a cup of herbal tea in one hand and your phone in the other, you were about to take place by your desk when you received a call.

Frowning, you rejected it, but the number called again. After the fourth attempt, you gave up and took the call.

"Hello, sis, it’s been a while,” the voice greeted. Hearing how much it changed, you realized it had, in fact, been a while. That little, soft voice that asked you a million questions was no longer there. That innocent voice was gone. and that convinced you more of how pointless it was to dwell on the past and try to rebuild burned bridges.

“Hi,” you simply replied.

Discouraged by your cold tone, they took a deep breath before asking, “How are you?”

“Known better days.”

“I can imagine,” they mumbled. "So... are you coming?” they asked after a brief hesitation. “It’s been years, and I... I need your presence. I need you, sis.” Their voice broke, and you could’ve sworn you could hear your heart crack. But they had made their choice years ago when they decided to forgive your father. To choose him over you. To choose the one who mistreated them over the one who looked after them and loved them unconditionally. Each time you remembered that night, your heart fell to pieces and your soul shattered. You and your sibling made an oath. You promised each other to stay together, to help one another, and to start all over again far away from that doomed house.

It’s about time we went back home. Their words echoed infinitely in your head. Forgive and forget, sis. He’s our father, after all. He’s the only family we have left. Their words were mixed with angry voices and loud banging against the door. They were covered by the sound of hectic sobbing and whispered promises. Promises little you made to make out alive, to escape this living hell as soon as possible, to seek freedom and live.

“I’ll wait for. Please, you don’t forget the pro—” Knowing what they were about to say, you hung up before they had the chance to finish their sentence.

“Why, why, why, why!!” you kept repeating as a broken record. “Why do you always insist on doing this to me?" You fell to the ground, crying. “Why now. Why. I’m finally happy. I’m finally having a normal and peaceful life. I’m finally living my life.” Your fist slammed the cold floor beneath you over and over. “Give me a break. Haven’t you had enough?"

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adeadlyobsession · 1 year

Text

Headcanons!

Okay so, I said in a previous post that I didn't really have any headcanons for Tom Riddle, but since I started writing more about him, here are a few that feels pretty consistent in my head (some are pretty much on par with what we glimpse in canon, some are characterization I liked in fanfics and/or metas, and some just my own personal ideas):

SFW

Possessive, of course. Once he decides something or someone is his, it's *his*. Friends, family, lovers, you name it, if he cares, he doesn't share.

That being said, I don't think he would necessarily be jealous, he is way too confident about his own charm and abilities to think that their loved one would try their luck elsewhere. But he would fight someone trying too much to get into your pants, and his anger in the event of learning you cheated on him would be devastating.

Ever since reading this meta, (and subsequently this one) I've been obsessed with the idea of Tom Riddle not wanting to rule the wizarding world, but wanting to destroy it. It's the main idea I keep in mind whenever I write him growing to become Voldemort, and it's the one that makes the most sense too to me. He's a man who grew up with everything taken away from him by both sides of the world, but the Wizarding World particularly never stood up to become more than anything the muggle world ever was. (The second meta is also what inspired me to write him this way in The Hanged Man's Tale)

I think his main goals remain immortality and magical power, and that keeping the most prominent dark families under his thumb allows him easier access to magical power, the same reason why he ended up working at Borgins and Burkes out of all the places he could afford to work at (still following the idea that the Wizarding World's nepotism refused him access to higher positions in society). So anyone he would be interested in has to have knowledge or power (or both) that he doesn't have himself in order to be enticing in his eyes. (That or absolutely no ties whatsoever with the world he knows, making for a refreshing take).

Bisexual king? Bisexual king!

Very much high maintenance too. The closer he gets to you, the more he wants to spend time with you, and don't you dare go a day without talking to him (see possessive behaviour).

He's a nervous smoker, a habit he picked up during summers at the orphanage. Most of the other boys were doing the same, and it wasn't really difficult to steal some from unsuspecting workers despite shortages. He always keeps one or two on hand even at Hogwarts, smoking a puff or two and keeping the rest for later when he is particularly stressed.

I like to think of him as still human despite losing chunks of his soul, and I think the last thing he still craves after everything is the touch of another (insert any headcanon you want which includes Bellatrix and a certain baby post-resurection, I personally love the concept, hate how the play brought it to fruition). The more he cut off his soul, the less he cared about people, but I think before that he had no choice but to hide behind a mask (of his own creation of course) and only pretend he didn't feel anything for anyone.

Similarly, I still think Voldemort is part of his humanity, and I find it difficult to write Tom Riddle without thinking about that counterpart. I do think he doesn't become the worse of what Voldemort became until later, but it's important to me to write a Tom Riddle who still becomes him, unless it's in an AU that begins while he is still at Hogwarts. (That said it's very possible that I try my hand at that kind of AU post Hogwarts one day anyway, but as it is now, this is how I like to write him).

That boy loves sweets. It's not something he would openly share with others, but it's quite easy to notice for those who are observant enough. He won't be bought with them though, but he might listen with a better mood if someone brings them to him.

This post

This song:

NSFW

really into choking. Not necessarily the full "can't breathe anymore" thing, but he *will* wrap his hand around your neck and squeeze just enough to get a good hold because he loves the feeling of making you his this way.

He likes to be in control, that is a given, however I do think that with the right person, someone he can fully trust, he would really like them to take the lead, take some pressure off his own shoulders. The younger you both are when you meet and build a rapport, the easier it would be for him to give the trust necessary to reach that point, but later on it would be a real slow burn to get there. (says I after I wrote a full OS where he lets go some with a perfect stranger)

He's a top to service top basically.

Can be both major freak and smoothest vanilla depending on how many people he managed to put into submission during the day. Or sometimes just depending on his mood. Very versatile like that.

Oral fixation. He will latch his mouth on any piece of skin he can reach and lick, suck, bite, as if he could devour you whole. Makes him a very eager kisser. Also very eager to go down on you at a moment's notice.

Virgin or experienced? Depends again on when you two meet. I think he would have kissed one or two people towards the end of his scholarity, but have his first sexual experiences after leaving Hogwarts, unless being with you since being fifteen or something.

That's it for now! Now, am I going to be following this list to the T whenever it comes to our favourite psychopath? Probably not, but this is as close as I can get to personal headcanons for him! I may or may not update this later on, any edits will be written in bold!

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x oc #headcanons #harry potter #Spotify #my writing

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chdarling · 9 months

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"Ask a question CHDarling".

No. Nope. I don't have any questions.

I'm blown away.

By your talent and your inasenly great imagination, and your way to connect all this little words, situation from each chapter into something so wholesome, so canon - yet still all of this feels unic.

"...be brave, be strong..." JESUS, I CRIED.

I admit - I think this chapter is my favourite so far, but don't get me wrong - actually they all are. But this one is just... Beautiful. Simple word, but I could use all of positive adjectives to describe this chapter and yet, it still would not be enough. There are no words. They are feelings you make us feel, and tears you make us shed, and it is all alright, because in the end you grab our hearts and our souls - because you put your heart and your soul into this - and it feels alright.

Just like this whole story, I can't imagine reading any other fanfic and think "this is so canon", because you, with every chapter, make me believe that every situation you wrote actually happened. It feels like I am reading a story, a perfect story of James and Lily (and all of the rest, of course) that I once created in my mind when thinking of them - of course, like billion times better story - like you somehow have magical power to get everyone's image of Marauders times and Jily story, put it together, add your talent, heart and soul - and just put it into writing (recepy for writing a perfect story, I guess) - and boom, here we are with this masterpiece.

I really admire your work, patience, engagement and, above all, your talent. There is no denying that, because I never cry, even when I'm reading something really, really sad. When watching yes, when reading never happened - well, until this chapter. I can't phantom how you can write something so real, about something and someone fake. I mean, when you think about it, it is just another imaginary story, about characters from also imaginary book - BUT then you start reading The Last Enemy and all you can do is stop thinking and feel - because maybe it is about imaginary characters, but damn, it is REAL. In our heads and hearts, and thank you for making this for us. I have never read something touching and astonishlingly beautfiul.

I am amazed by this chapter - I love how you wrote about grief, love and sadness - I adore those interactions between Sirius and Lily.

It is amazing how one can indetify with every character, maybe not on every level, but still - they feel real.

And even I was not planning to write this, which took me whole twenty minutes, I know how nice it is to get a compliment about work you have done.

So please - feel appreciated, loved and know this is simply the best journey I could ever, ever imagine for you to take me on.

Love from Poland! ❤️

This is so incredibly kind, thank you so so much for taking the time to send me such a thoughtful and lovely message 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ch answers #tle2 #tle2 spoilers

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popironrye · 8 months

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Dracfield Fanfic Preview

I'm having a blast working on this big dracfield fanfic I have, but it's a slow process. To make myself feel better I wanted to post a little snip bit as like a preview without actually spoiling the largest part of the story. Here's the summary for a little context: In order to get out of a sticky situation, Teddy Lobo pressures Renfield into doing cocaine and the results are messy. Leading to Dracula having to aid his loyal servant in the simple task of getting cleaned up. This little section is heavily implied Tedfield for funsies, but let it be known that this story is not a tedfield fic. So I hope not to disappoint people by clarifying this is the extent of any tedfield stuff really since the story is about dracfield, but let me know if I should write a full blown tedfield fic. :3

What started as one bottle of tequila turned into a second. Then a third. But that wasn’t enough for Teddy. Robert timidly downed as many drinks as Teddy and his entourage handed him. He wasn’t much of a heavy drinker. Being inebriated to such a level would spell disaster not only for his master but also himself. He would surely fail his master by being too drunk to function or at worst, protect him when he needed it. Still though, Robert was always a social drinker and you couldn’t get any more social than being around Teddy and the Lobo gang. Hollering, laughing, and carrying on like the tightest of friends. It wasn’t long before the scenery switched from the Lobo home to a rowdy bar where the drinks continued to flow, to the point where Robert was starting to wobble. Teddy was absolutely sloshed from the beginning, but that didn’t stop him from being the fun loving center of attention. He was really good at that, even as his declarations of a good time became nearly incomprehensible with all the slurring he was doing. He tumbled into furniture and people alike. It was a little amusing to Robert to see the man in such a state.

After Teddy flailed an arm firmly over his shoulder, probably as a way to keep himself more steady, Robert decided it was probably for the best that Teddy be taken home. Everyone else was way too busy enjoying themselves in their own drunken worlds so Robert decided he’d get Teddy home first and come back for everyone else later. While his legs were a little shaky, not helped by how fidgety Teddy was being, Robert was still in his right mind to get back home. Practically dragging Teddy out into the parking lot, with one of Teddy’s arms over his shoulder holding his wrist and his other hand holding firmly on Teddy’s waist to keep his legs from dragging against the ground. Robert was surprised with how little resistance he was getting. Usually Teddy would fight against his grip to keep partying but he seemed content being led away by him. Mumbling under his breath too quiet and too garbled for Robert to fully understand him. Teddy leaned his weight against him, nuzzling his nose into the side of Robert’s neck, causing him to sharply suck a breath in through his teeth. His body let out an involuntary shudder and he felt Teddy smile against his skin. He was getting a kick out of that. Robert grumbled to himself. Smug little twit. Still he smiled. The sensation of the other man pushing his weight against him; trusting him to practically glide him back to the car was nice. The feeling of his warm breath against his pulse point was more intoxicating than the alcohol in his system. The feeling of having someone, anyone relying on him again made his chest flutter. Robert sighed, how quick he was to feel this way was almost shameful. He’d be damned if the slightest bit of touch was all it took to light a fire in his soul and yet, any sensible person could tell he was damned a long time ago. Once he made it back to the car, Robert had to lean Teddy’s body against his side, hoisting him up with one arm as he opened the door with the other. He gently laid Teddy down across the seats. With a slight jostle, Teddy shifted over to glance up at him. Eyes glossy, lips slightly parted as he took short breaths. His chest heaving as he rested his cheek into the leather. His entire face flushed, no doubt from all the alcohol and his once tightly slicked back hair had strands falling all over the place. “Robert…” He muffled softly. The sound of his name coming from Teddy so tenderly brought heat from his core to his cheeks. How he wondered how sweet it would sound to make Teddy call out his name like that more…no! No, he thought. What the hell was wrong with him? He was grateful Teddy had no insight into his mind like his master did. Not that it would have mattered regardless at this moment. Robert prodded Teddy’s leg with his finger tip. He was completely out cold. Robert sighed as he stood a moment letting the night air cool his face. It was only then when his mind was clear from worrying about Teddy and the buzz in his system began to ease that he had the feeling he was being watched. Before he could step back to close the door, he felt a strong pair of hands clasp against the back of his shirt and the other firmly pressed on the back of his head. Before he could even react he was forced violently forward, having his brow line smashed against the top of the inner frame. Robert stayed on his feet but his unseen assailant was quick to lay a few body blows and ended with a hard stomp in the back of his knee. Robert landed against the pavement, he gritted his teeth as he felt the flesh of his palms scrap against the ground. While he was down the man who assaulted him made quick work of the fight with a swift kick right into the side of Robert’s jaw and everything went black.

#renfield #renfield movie #dracfield #tedfield #robert montague renfield #tedward lobo #teddy lobo #writing #my writing #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #current wip

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illylli · 2 years

Text

Bite My Tongue (Pt. 1) | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

→ Eddie’s never felt so enamoured with someone before he met you. The only problem is, your heart’s already spoken for. Still, the Dungeon Master of Hellfire Club has a plan to keep you close, even if he can’t have you.

→ 3k words: includes mentions of drug use, unrequited love (or is it?), sneaky touches

→ a/n: I’m hoping to make this into a multi-part series, so please comment if you’d like more + message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist. this is also my first fanfic so please feel free to send me any writing advice you have x

♫ mood: ‘no other heart’ by mac demarco

→ read part 2 | → read part 3

Eddie Munson doesn’t do flustered.

He doesn’t have time for dumb crushes, heart palpitations, or anything of the like. He had always scoffed at the heart-eyed, body-floating, jaw-dropping interpretations of attraction. The dramatization of which filled his ears with static as late-night cartoons hummed on the TV, the off-switch neglected while he greened out, having pushed the limit once again.

It was at such times that he felt dauntingly lonely. He flirted with just about anyone who spent more than 5 minutes with him, to feel something, anything. It was not for lack of wit which danced on his silver tongue that he failed to sway both women and men alike into growing fond of him. He would give up the chase before it began.

Maybe he’d set his standards too high. He was a secret lover of romance; he managed to convince the Hellfire Club not only into hosting a plethora of romantic subplots in their campaigns, but also that it was of their own accord and totally not planned out in detail prior by their Dungeon Master.

Still, he had yet to meet anyone who made him feel a fraction of the excitement that surged through his veins whenever the dice rolled in favour of a kiss. Fiction was far superior to reality, so much so that his mind was steeped in unrealistic expectations of perfectly timed confessions and sweeping romantic gestures.

He always searched for a secret beauty hidden amongst the rowdy bar crowd when he was strumming epic riffs for Corroded Coffin. His eyes always scanned the cafeteria for someone interesting to fall for. Time and time again, not a soul caught his eye, at least not in the way he was yearning for.

Which is why a mundane interaction in the Hawkins High parking lot caught him so off guard it had him rethinking his entire outlook on life.

“Eddie,” His name said in a huff, like a passing thought.

He had turned, a smirk already tugging the corners of his mouth, ready to exude cool indifference to whatever half-assed insult was about to be lugged his way. Instead, he felt his limbs go rigid as you stepped into his space, soft fingers following the curve of his ear as you tucked his hair back.

“You dropped your joint.”

“Yeah?“ He was stunned from the sudden contact, but more so from the fact that your touch had caused his eyes to start burning.

He reached up, tapping the twisted edge of the paper, then, so stiffly he thought you’d perhaps injected him with paralysing venom, he gave you a two-finger salute.

“Appreciate it, sweetheart.”

You gave a single nod, your textbooks clutched under taut knuckles. “Sure.”

With that you’d turned heel, and Eddie stood there like an idiot, crowds of people brushing past him as he watched your jock boyfriend open the car door for you, clicking open and closed, engine revving, reverberating in his heart, until he was left in the wake of burnt rubber and swirling dust clouds a changed man.

It didn’t make sense. You were nondescript, you were another face in the crowd, another hand raised in class, hidden behind the gossamer of the everyday.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n)?”

Dustin looked unimpressed when Eddie had suggested the idea of gauging your interest in joining the club.

Eddie crossed his arms, knowing he could pull off nonchalance better than anyone else, yet his heart still hammered, reminding him he was not immune to the mention of you yet. “You know her?”

“Of course,” Mike interjected as he slid into the seat beside the two, his lunch tray clattering. “She’s always hanging out with Nancy.”

Eddie realised he was gnawing on his bottom lip when the two boys narrowed their eyes at him. He gave a little drumroll on the lunch table, hoping to distract them with the flourish of a newspaper. He cleared his throat as he straightened out The Weekly Streak, eyes darting to the place on the page he’d kept coming back to.

“In the Dead of the Night, chapter forty-two by (Y/n) (Y/l/n)…”

By the time he’d finished reading the story aloud, Mike and Dustin at least looked half interested.

“He going on about that newspaper chick again?” Gareth sighed as he took a seat, getting comfy as he reached for his juice box.

Eddie seized it first, holding it just out of reach as Gareth snatched for it.

“An astute observation, my friend, but surface level,” he placed the juice box down with a thump and flung an arm over his shoulder, pulling him close, his voice lowered, “You know I wouldn’t invite just anyone into Hellfire, so think a little with that great big brain o’ yours,” he nuzzled a knuckle against Gareth’s temple and he wriggled in Eddie’s grip.

“I don’t know,” he scrunched up his face.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Eddie raised a hand to the ceiling, fingers outstretched as he punctuated each word as he said “Year. Long. Campaign.”

“Impossible,” Jeff’s greeting was one of awe as he sat down, “There would be too much ground to cover. No one person can handle campaign that big.”

“Ding ding ding,” Eddie clapped succinctly, his excitement growing, “Though your assumption is humbling, it is correct. For such a grand journey, we’d need another master writer. Someone-“ Eddie tapped on your column in the newspaper, “who knows how to weave a narrative. Attention to detail, characters, subplots. She’s the one.”

Mike and Dustin looked at each other after taking in Eddie’s beaming façade.

Mike shrugged. “I can ask her if she’d be interested, next time she’s over my house.”

“No, no,” Eddie shook his head animatedly, “No. Wheeler, you have the charisma of a damp towel. I need to be there to convince her.” He pointed a ring-clad finger at the boy, “You call me as soon as she shows up and I’ll be there.”

Gareth perked up at Eddie’s enthusiasm. “There something we should know?”

Eddie gripped Gareth’s shoulder, just hard enough to be slightly threatening. “Only that you’re all about to be treated to the best damn adventure of your lives.”

Mike’s call came later that afternoon, passing on the information that you and Nancy had made a peculiar stop before going home. The ring of the landline echoed in Eddie’s head as he pulled out of the trailer park, his palms sweaty against the steering wheel of the van.

He wanted out of his mortal body. If he could’ve separated heart and soul, he would have, so that he could focus on the task at hand without freaking himself out.

What if you said no? What if you said yes? Why did he care?

He’d never gone so out of his way to recruit someone to Hellfire before, and maybe, if he allowed himself to admit it, it was because he was chasing that high only your touch had been able to give him.

Despite being surrounded by drugs in his tailer, he’d never been tempted to overindulge. He wasn’t an addict. But one close encounter with you and he was itching for his next hit. Suddenly the romance novels all made sense, and things that had never clicked before were falling into place, the once-obscured coming into view.

It was painfully cliché. He wanted to pull the steering wheel and wake up from whatever dream this was. But as he pulled up at the arcade, he felt that strange bubbling still within him, like he truly had woken up. He could see you through the window if he squinted, the class reflecting the sunset over your form. Nancy was nodding politely to whatever you were saying, though she looked out of place, much too mature for such a setting.

Eddie hopped out of the van, the chain on his wallet clinking as he approached the entrance. The door squealed on its hinges, but was immediately drowned out by the chatter and loud music, all out of sync as each machine carried its own game theme.

Nancy’s eyes followed the darting pinball as you attempted to rack up your points, but her gaze went smoothly from top to bottom.

Nancy gave you a tight smile, “Should we head back to mine and get started on brainstorming your next chapter?”

“Good idea,” you replied, your feigned up-beat tone fooling no one, including Nancy.

Eddie thought it a good moment to swoop in and save her from needing to say something peppy to pry you from the machine.

“This one taken?”

You blinked up at him, a slight frown forming in the split second before you realised who it was.

“We were just leaving,” you announced, taking a step away and motioning like you were offering up a gift.

“Y’know, it’s all about the timing,” he said, slipping a quarter into the slot. The pinball machine lit up again, a tinny jingle sounding as the balls were loaded up. Eddie’s rings clacked against the side as he waited patiently to launch the first one into the arena.

You hovered closer to him as you watched him flip the ball expertly, hitting the bumpers with ease to allot him more points.

Nancy exhaled loudly, drawing your attention.

“What’re you girls doing here anyway?” Eddie asked casually, trying to stall for time. “Didn’t take the illustrious journalist-writer duo for a bunch of arcade dwellers.”

He viewed your downtrodden expression in the reflection of the pinball machine glass.

“A bad case of writer’s block,” you revealed, “I thought, I don’t know, the excitement might spur something within me. But nope. Turns out the only thing evoked today was the truth of how bad I am at pinball.”

Eddie chuckled, the screen lighting up with an impressive score as he finished his playthrough. “I’d take future bestselling author over future pinball champion any day.”

He felt his soul go gooey as he watched your smile grow in the glass reflection.

“If only a person could be both,” you teased, then turned as Nancy called your name from the door, where she was now waiting.

Eddie caught your arm before you could leave, and immediately regretted it, meeting your eyes in a stomach-churning instant. He forgot how to talk for a few seconds, his brain lagging behind his hard-beating heart.

“Listen, (Y/n),” he started, balling his fist to rest on the machine as the lights went out, “I uh…” He met Nancy’s gaze and she rolled her eyes, but exited with a good-natured smile on her face. “Why don’t you play one more round? I could teach you a few pointers before you leave. Take a crack at that writer’s block with some healthy ego stroking?”

You took position as he fed the machine another quarter, grinning as you asked, “What, are you going to be my cheerleader?”

He watched in the reflection as your smile fell, mouth parting as he slid his hands over yours, wishing and hoping and goddammit, even praying that his touch had the same effect on you as yours did on him.

“You paying attention?” He whispered as the pinballs were loaded onto the spring. You nodded silently, and Eddie could feel your back brush against his chest with each breath.

As the first ball fell towards the flippers he tensed, pressing down onto your fingers and subsequently the right button, flicking it back up and into a route that had your score shooting up. You let out an elated sound, something between an unbelieving scoff and an amused giggle. It had him reeling.

“Watch out,” he laughed, “Right there. That’s it.”

As the score went up so did the stakes. Both of you could see it was fast approaching the high score. Eddie didn’t stop encouraging you, and he could tell with each spoken word that he was bolstering you.

“Good girl,” he coaxed, “Keep going. Just a little more.”

He felt every jolt of your body as you anticipated the silver ball’s movements, so engrossed in the game that as he eventually removed his hands, you were still able to mimic his technique to perfection.

He could already tell that you’d work well together.

“You’re a quick learner,” he praised as you released an elated sigh at the new high score that flashed on the screen.

You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with a new energy. “You’re a good teacher.”

He tapped a hand against the machine as it went into idle mode once more. “At pinball, maybe, but I could use a few pointers on some other things…”

You shook your head, knowing this had to be leading somewhere, but you still humoured him, “Other things?”

“Well, you know,” He threw a hand up, counting off each finger as he started, “How to put on eyeliner without looking like a racoon, how the hell taxes are supposed to work, how to write a wicked story…” He drew out the last word, his last counted finger wiggling as you smiled.

“Did Nancy put you up to this?”

Eddie took a step forward as he crossed his heart. “I have a vision for the future of Hellfire, but I’m gonna need your help to get it there.”

“That’s the roleplaying game you play, right?”

“Pretty much,” Eddie confirmed, “Dungeons and Dragons. DnD.”

“I don’t get it,” you admitted as you picked up your bag, “You have to write a story to play it?”

Eddie followed you as you made your way to the door. “There are pre-written campaigns with their own lore, but I’ve always wanted to delve into writing original storylines. Only problem is, it takes a lot of work. Lots of writing, character design, you’d know how it is since you write those stories for the school paper.”

“Okay,” you pushed the door, the arcade’s bubble of noise being shut in as it drifted closed behind you, “So… you want me to join?”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Eddie slipped out in front of you, causing you to halt. “I know you’re the busiest person in school next to Wheeler, so I wouldn’t ask you to play. I’d just… appreciate some help with the story. Your writing is really, really good. I mean, honestly, I got chills reading those horror stories you posted last Halloween.”

“Really?” you glowed.

“Really,” Eddie answered.

It was the truth. He had enjoyed those stories, but he hadn’t paid much attention to the school newspaper in general until that fateful day you’d tucked his joint behind his ear and he was compelled to learn everything about you.

He’d hassled some nerd who worked at The Weekly Streak into lending him a copy of every newspaper that had come out since last October, and in the span of a couple days he’d binged all your work, through which he’d picked up on your style and quirks. He supposed that he’d learnt an integral part of who you are from the pieces of yourself you chose to reveal through your characters and stories.

Still, he wanted to learn more; he wanted to learn exactly how you’d managed to distil pure electricity into those soft hands of yours. He wanted to know how a person managed to fit the whole world into their eyes.

“So,” He fought the embarrassing urge to pout, “You in?”

You glanced between him and Nancy, who was tapping her fingers against the steering wheel of her car.

“I should say no,” you admitted. He knew why: your boyfriend certainly wouldn’t like the idea.

“But you will say…?”

“Maybe.”

Eddie huffed, pushing his tongue against his bottom teeth.

“Say yes,” His eyes flitted up to yours, “Please.”

You could tell he wasn’t used to asking for favours. His arms were folded behind his back and he was swinging on his heels. Eddie could scarcely believe he would sink as low as pleading, but he had never been more determined for something in his life now that he’d set his sights on you.

“Fine,” you spoke quickly, conscious of how long you’d made Nancy wait, “But Chance can’t know.”

“Chance?” He spoke aloud, but it clicked in his brain and he nodded. “Your boyfriend.”

“Eddie,” you raised your brow at him, “Seriously. If he found out-“

“Hey, my lips are sealed.” He even made the gesture of zipping them closed and throwing away the key.

You nodded, “Good. Then I’ll see you at my place, Friday night.”

Nancy smirked as you finally entered her car, and she said something that had you hiding your face in your hands. Eddie turned away then, knowing he’d only pick apart every miniscule expression for anything negative and be persuaded by his interpretation to call the whole thing off.

As soon as he slid into the driver’s seat of the van he took a deep breath, checked his side mirror to see that Nancy had pulled out, then shook himself out let a wet dog, expelling all the nervous energy that had pooled in his body.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled to himself, turning the key in the ignition, “It’s happening, it’s happening.”

He was so ecstatic for the rest of the day, his uncle asked if he was high when he got home.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #my work #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

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undercoverpena · 10 months

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anon, I’m not going to post your ask because I didn’t feel comfy with the wording you used in it. but I’ll answer your question (rephrased)

question: how do you deal with one fic blowing up and another not?

the first thing I want to touch on is that you can’t go around lifting someone up to bring another person down—even if that person is yourself. you can’t go to someone and spell ill on yourself and expect the person you’re sending it to be super chill about it 😂 i do not want you to belittle your writing, whether on anon or not.

you can go to someone and be like “I love how you did X, I’m looking to get better at that” but, watch self-deprecating language (we’re all guilty of it is as humans) but it’s harder for me to even process what you’re saying when you’re on anon. I can’t clarify what you meant, I can only just make an assumption on the language you used.

which is why I didn’t post your ask, and I’m just hoping that I took the point out of it that you wanted to know 🩷✨

when you walk around believing you’re smaller than someone, the only thing you’re doing is telling yourself that you’re smaller than someone. it’s reinforcing a thought that your brain is creating to be mean (brain demons). negativity breeds negativity.

as a blog owner, we should celebrate the highs without fear that others will think bad on us. but the reason I don’t is because of mentalities like this where people assume I think I’m too big for my boots because I reached some pinnacle of followers. try to remember I am a multi-fandom writer, I collect souls as I wander aimlessly through the grass, and also, I’m no less wracked with worry, anxiousness or doubt than most. a number in my followers or on a fic doesn’t solve those problems or how I view myself.

now, to answer the question, I don’t? and I know that seems so easy to say right. like “oh, jo isn’t bothered”, she’s this and that. but the truth is, there’s no explanation. like sometimes, I’m someone’s cup of tea and another I’m not. sometimes I’ll write something people wanna drink up there and then, sometimes they’ll wanna wait, or skip past it. and it’s okay.

I don’t expect anyone to feel forced to read my work, and when they do it’s a blessing. that’s it. the beauty of fanfic and writing and art, is that there’s so much you can find exactly what you want, when you want it.

like, do I want to be beloved? yes, I want tattoos of peoples faces on me (haha, I kid, Pedro interview moment I promise). but I obviously want to connect with people, I want my writing to matter. but I try not to get hung up on it connecting on a scale — I just want to tell stories of people falling in love. I want people to be able to escape, and that isn’t represented in notes, that isn’t represented in numbers or anything. that’s a feeling, and I can’t measure that.

and I preach this a lot, but you have to find your people. the people who will want your particular style and swallow it up. the ones that connect with you when you stay true to who you are.

anyone can write a piece, but no one can write it like you. you can give five writers the same one line prompt and we’ll all interpret it differently. y’know?

now, do I sometimes sit all disgruntled that the fic snapped from a piece of my heart isn’t doing “well” (whatever that even means), of course! I am human.

but what I don’t do, is pick a part why that is. I just try to remember that this is what I wanted to write, this made me happy (or helped me work through things) or that (when the imposter syndrome passes) it’ll be something I want to read.

for instance, I am not a confident smut writer. smut does really well. I don’t actively avoid writing it, but I try to make it less of a focus on what I’m doing, because even if it does well, I am not good at it. and I never feel as proud of it.

however, there are times I have this idea and it’s smut and I literally harass friends with my idea before even attempting it—but again, I didn’t write it because smut does well here. I wrote it because the idea was stuck in my head 😂. I don’t expect it to do well, because going back to my first sentence, I am not a confident smut writer. the notes on it, mean nothing. what does mean something is me and my bestie screaming about what a slut I am and how proud she is of me 😂, that means more to me.

so to summarise, it’s hard to not be bothered, if you spend time looking at numbers. it’s a tough cookie to bite into it. but you have to find a core reason why you wanna do what you do, and keep that at the centre of you.

be dejected (if you need to be) when you stare at it and wonder why it didn’t “blow up”, but don’t let that fester inside of you, don’t let it stop you from writing. hold the reason you want to do this and remember that.

plus, every day you become a better writer, even if you don’t write every single day. you learn new words, see new inspo, hear new conversations. so, there’s always the next one, if notes are something you’re seeking.

love, jo 🩷✨

#asked and answered #anon #the reason I didn’t feel comfy was because it seemed like I was on a pedestal #pls do not put me on a pedestal #write what you love #writing #fandom writing #murdvck’s writing

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