#and also wrote this one and saved it in my drafts?
Text
The Secret Portal, Draft One
The people have spoken. Here's my school project I wrote when I was 10.
At fifteen pages, it was the longest in the class by far! (Our minimum requirement was two pages, which most barely reached)
I also got a 100% on it!
Instead of the regular taglist for TSP, tagging the people I tagged in the original poll -- @gracehosborn @illarian-rambling @mk-writes-stuff @elsie-writes @mysticstarlightduck @little-peril-stories @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver @eccaiia @winterandwords @thepeculiarbird @televisionjester @finchwrites @theeccentricraven @awritingcaitlin @sleepywriter00 @dyrewrites @somethingclevermahogony @writeintrees @thebejeweledwatercat @theelfauthor @cadotoast @space-writes @sunset-a-story
Can't believe I have to put a warning on this, but--
CW: children are threatened with a firearm but don't worry no one gets hurt and they aren't even that scared; brief Harry Potter reference
Word count: 2.3k
Est. reading time: 7-11 minutes
The following is transcribed exactly as written, save for my use of multi-colored text, which I'm not gonna waste my time adding in.
****
~“Come on, Aurora!” I shouted to my friend, Aurora Flité, who wasn't moving from her seat at school. “Alexia, the bell hasn’t…” she started RRRIIINNNGGG!!! “Oh, wait! ‘The bell hasn’t rang yet’!” I joked. Aurora sighed, shook her head, and pushed herself up saying, “Ha, ha, ha!” “Bye Mrs. Kat!” we called. “Oh, wait Alexia,” Mrs. Kat, my teacher, called. “I found this.” She handed me my metal detector. “I found it on the floor. It said, ‘Redinés’ on it, so, I guessed it was yours.” “Thanks.” I said. “Bye, girls!” she called after us. We walk out of Little Rock Elementary. The beautiful blanket of May flowers stretched out all the way… to my house. <3 I sighed. Nothing was better than… “AAAHHH!!!” I whirled around. Aurora had disappeared! I moved the grass where she had been standing. A rock. A metal rock? I stood up, confused. I put my bag down, next to Aurora’s (which she probably dropped) and felt the rock with my hand. “AAAHHH!!!” I screamed.
EVERYTHING WENT BLACK
************
~I opened my eyes. Was I lying in snow? I forced myself up. Wait… it wasn't snow… it was… CLOUDS?!?!?!?! OK. I am dreaming. I thought.I pinched my self. OW! No, wasn't dreaming. “Aurora! Aurora!!! I called. NO ANSWER. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a house. I crossed my fingers and hoped this was the right house. I knocked on the door and waited... and waited... and waited... and waited… and soon, I started to walk away when an elderly woman opened the door. “Hello!” she said, cheerfully. “Hihaveyouseenagirlwithblackishbrownredhair?” I blurted out. “Herhairflowsuptoherwaist.” “Wha...OH! Yeah, I’ve seen her. She went that way.” the woman said, pointing to her right. I ===zoomed off! “Oh! And watch out for my pet, Bobby!” I thought Bobby was a very hyper puppy that could trample me but, I had to continue my search. I soon found her upside down tangled in vines. I charged towards her. “HEADS UP!” I warned. I pulled on the vines. “AAHH!” she screamed. “umph!” she said as she hit the ground. I brushed the hair out of my eyes, when suddenly… “RRRROOOOAAAARRRR!!!!” We both whirled around. A dragon!! “Run for it, Aurora!” I breathed. We charged towards the house and banged on the door. “LET US IN!!” we shouted. “DRAGON ALERT!” “Come in girls!” the woman said, cheerfully. “Oh, and you too, Bobby!” “BOBBY?!” Aurora said weakly, and fainted... RIGHT ON TOP OF ME.
****
Aurora woke up a few minutes later and found me in the living room. “Where am I?” “The lady’s, Lizzy’s, house.” “Oh, yeah right.” We heard a clatter in the kitchen. We figured it was Lizzy or Bobby, but when we walked in a boy about 16 years old, was standing there. “Hey, you must be Alexia and Aurora! I’m George.” When I shook his hand, he seemed strong, but he didn’t look strong. “Hi,” a voice said behind us. A 17-18ish years old girl was smiling at us. “I’m Carly.” Suddenly, we heard laughter in the other room. We ran towards the noise. We found them in Lizzy’s bedroom. Lizzy and her husband were on the bed. “Oh, Aurora and Alexia, right?” he said. “I’m Theodore Majg. But you can call me Ted.” Suddenly, we heard a knock at the door.” “I’ll get it.” Lizzy sang, as she ran to get the door. “Alexia! Aurora! Someone’s here to see you!” she called a minute later. For US? HERE?! We ran towards the door. A man was there. He wore a very big black hat that covered his face. He also wore a long, black cape. There was only one thing I knew: We didn’t know this guy. The man in black pulled out a gun. A GUN! “Show me the treasure or everyone DIES!” What treasure??? I thought Aurora was about to faint when she said, “OK. we don’t know who you are or what treasure, but if you tell us, we might be able to help.” I thought the man was probably FURIOUS. Instead, he said, “Well, it’s what you call… a metal detector.”
****
~I couldn’t move. He wanted something that was in my pocket! “Um… about that...uh…” the words sounded as fake as they were. “It’s in Lizzy room!” Aurora and I ran in the other room. “I need to hide this!” I yanked out the “treasure”. “Why does he want this?” Aurora asked me. “The portal. The portal brought us here. In Cloud City!” (I named it Cloud City since we were in the clouds.) “The portal is metal. I explained. “I think he wants to use the metal detector to find the portal, destroy it, and keep us from going back to Arkansas!” Aurora looked bewildered. Suddenly, she snatched the metal detector out of my hands and jumped off the bed. “We still havn’t found it!” she shouted. Then, she THREW open the dresser drawer JAMMED the metal detector in, and SLAMMED the drawer shut! “Uhhh!” she grunted as loud as she could. “We just CAN’T find it!” she groaned. Wow! My BFF is a WONDERFUL actor. We went back out into the living room. “I’m sorry, sir. But we can’t find it. You can come back another day.” I said. “TOMORROW!” he shouted. When he left, I felt like fainting myself.
****
~That night, I couldn’t sleep a wink. I closed my eyes, trying to go to sleep. My mind was only focused on the metal detector. I thought of a safe place for it, out of the house. Then… I drifted… away….
****
~When I woke up the next morning, I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach that the metal detector was gone. I was about to say, “Aurora! Get up!” When suddenly… BOOP! BOOP! BOOP! BOOP! I screamed. Aurora screamed. We both rolled off the couches, which was where we were sleeping. Oh, by the way, that was Ted’s alarm clock. “Aurora,” I said. “I think we should check the drawer for the You-Know-What.” “Why do we ne-” But I was already running into the room. She sighed, and ran after me. She found me digging though Lizzy’s drawer. “Not here.” I told her. “Oh no!” Aurora exclaimed. “He broke in!” “Check the back door.” I ordered. She ran to the back door. I zoomed to the front. “Locked!” Aurora called. “Same here!” I called back. “Girls!” Lizzy’s voice called come here!” Aurora and I ran towards her voice. We found her in the kitchen sitting down on a chair. “Sit there,” Lizzy pointed to 2 seats in front of her. “You’re 10, right?” We nodded. Uh-oh. I knew what was coming. “Your parents found out when they were your age. You 2--like your family, and every one in this house--have…” Oh my gosh!!! I gave Aurora the Don’t Even Think About Fainting! look. She nodded. “...magical...abilities.”
****
~I knew it. Aurora--thankfully--didn’t faint. Whew! “Like what?” Aurora asked. “Well,” Lizzy said. “I can see through walls.” Our mouths fell open. “For example,” Lizzy went on “Ted is naked and in the shower.” Aurora looked like she was about to puke. “What’s mine?” she asked. “Well,” Lizzy stated, “Yours Aurora, is… Oh! Yeah! You can read minds!” Aurora’s face lit up. “COOL!” Oh my gosh! This is freaky! I thought. “Alexia,” Aurora said looking at me. “You are thinking Oh my gosh. This is freaky! Correct?” I nodded. My mouth was still open. “What’s mine?” I asked, even though I knew what the answer probably was. “Alexia, yours is transportation. You can transport objects, people, and animals to different places.”
****
~Wow! I knew it. I looked at Aurora’s glasses, closed my eyes, and focused on the table POP! I opened my eyes, and looked at the table. The glasses were there. Aurora started to reach for her glasses. I grinned. POP! They were on her lap. POP! They were on my head. POP! They were on her face. “Not funny!” Aurora looked annoyed, but she was biting her lip trying not to laugh. She then turned to Lizzy. “How close do I have to be to read minds?” she asked. “15 yards.” Lizzy answered. “I thought Aurora was done with questions, but, oh no! “You said everyone in this house had abilities! What’s Ted’s? What’s George’s? What’s Carly’s?” Lizzy sighed. “Wel, Ted has super-hearing for a mile. George has super-strenght. And Carly can pick up a pencial with her mind, and write something she’s working on sketching with her mind.” After ALL of that, I REALLY thought Aurora would be done with questions (expecialy if she could read minds) but, she wasn't. “Cool! You also said our families have abilities. What’s Mom’s? What’s Dad’s? What’s Robert’s? What’s Marie-Sue’s? What’s Julian’s? What’s Mrs. Redinés’? What’s Mr. Redinés’? What’s Kelly’s?” Oh my gosh, HOW CAN 1 GIRL HAVE THAT MANY QUESTIONS!? But Lizzy didn’t seem to mind. “Your mom can make things appear out of thin air. Your dad can embarass enemies. Robert can make his voice super loud and it can be heard for 3 miles when he taps his chest. Marie Sue can talk to animals. Tamara has X-Ray vision. And Julian can turn into animals.” Lizzy then turned to me. “Your mom can turn invisible. Your dad has a photographic memory. A Kelly can get in a full conversation ½ klm away.” OMG!!! This was waaaaay to much for me to handle. I absoultely positivley wanted to faint. But then it hit me. The metal detector was gone because of me! I didn’t even know where it was! Ding-Dong! Oh no! The man in black was here!! Wait! I can transport things! My mind focused on the metal detector. POP! The metal detector was safe. For now, at least. I ran towards the door. “Lizzy,” I whispered. “Do you know him?” I pointed to the door. “Take off his hat, Alexia.” I focused on his hat. POP! The hat was next to Ted (who had came out of the shower.) “How did this…” I gave him the Cut It Out! look. He nodded. “Now?” I asked Lizzy. She pushed her curly, gray hair out of her eyes and said, “Yes. He is an evil sorcerer named Warlock LV.” All of a sudden, I remembered Lizzy’s own words: “You can transport objects, people, and animals.” People. I can transport people. BAM! BAM! BAM! My mind focused on Warlock LV. POP! He was 0.6 klm away from us. “I heard a splash.” Ted said suddenly. “He’s at the pool.” I looked at him in surprise. But then I remembered that he could hear a mile away, and 0.6 klm is a mile. I ran into the living room. About a minute later, I had Lizzy, Ted, Aurora, George, and Carly living room with me. (I’d transported them) “I have a plan.” I said.
****
I tied my hair in braids to keep the hair--brown-mess off my shoulder. I made sure my scarlett dress was straight. I fumbled with my glasses. Even though it was my plan, I was REALLY nervous. Aurora and Ted were at the front of the house, waiting to hear him. (“Him” is Warlock LV.) Finally, “I hear him!” Ted called out. That was Carly’s cue. She made out 15-yard mark by picking up a chalk with her mind, drew a line and wrote: Don’t cross this line! Or else! And that’s exactly what we meant.
****
“I know what he’s thinking!” Aurora blurted out a few minutes later. “He’s thinking: ��Don’t Cross This LINE! Or else! Ha! Stupid kids!’.” Wow. “Lizzy!” I called. “Remember the alarm!” A few minutes later, we heard… ERRRH! That meant Lizzy saw Warlock LV, and that was also George’s cue. He literally busted down the door, ran down the block, and threw Warlock LV up! This was my chance. My mind focused on him and I transported him far away. (I don’t even know where!) “We did it!” we shouted. Then Aurora tapped me on the shoulder. “Alexia, where is the metal detector?” I smiled. “Come on!” I walked into the kitchen, and pointed to the cookie jar on top of the refridgerator. I looked at Aurora. Her mouth was hanging open. I smiled, transported the metal detector down, and walked to the door. “Bye,” we called. “Bye, bye!” they called back. When Aurora and I stepped outside, we heard a roar. “Bye, Bobby!” we waved and it seemed like he waved back.
****
“I found it!” We had just reached the portal. I had been using the metal detector to find it. “I’ll go first.” Aurora said. She took a deep breath, stepped in, and disappeared. I looked around 1 last time. I told myself I can come back anytime. I sighed, closed my eyes, took one step, and fell back to Earth…
****
FLOP! I was back on Earth. I looked up., Aurora was standing there. I forced myself up, and looked at the school, 3:00PM?! But… I looked at the date on my watch, May 15, 2013!? No time had passed since we left. “Let’s… go...home.” I said.
****
I was exhausted! “Hi, Alexia!” my little sister, Kelly, said. She looked happy to see me. Something clicked. Kelly’s best friend, Nellie, had powers too. Nellie once looked like she was floating. I ran to the phone and saw my mom disappear into thin air. And then, my dad started to recite the entire 1st chapter of the 7th Harry Potter book, word for word! I grabbed the phone, dialed Aurora’s numbered and told her to bring Julian and Tamara.
****
On the way to the school, while Julian, Kelly, and Nellie were ahead of us, Tamara, Aurora, and I were talking about our powers. Tamara, Aurora, and I all agreed that Nellie’s magical ability was floating. All of a sudden… “AAAHHH!!!” We looked up. Julian and Nellie were looking down at the portal. “Wait for us, Kelly!” they shouted and jumped after her…………
And
I
knew
exactly
what
was
about
to
happen.
#the secret portal#tsp#teaspoon#tsp draft one#my writing#tsp excerpt#writers on tumblr#writing community#writers of tumblr#writing on tumblr#writeblr#writeblr community
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Warmth (Midoriya Izuku x Reader)
Warnings: Obsessiveness (near the end), implied major character death, reanimated corpse (it’s Deku), necromancy, Deku is the equivalent of Frankenstein’s monster kinda, a little ooc, mentions of pain, descriptions of skin burning (not exactly but yeah idk how to explain it)
Kofi
Viridian irises glance over the form laid before them, a longing sigh passing through chapped lips and landing on deaf ears. Fingers, cold to the touch and tinted blue from lack of flowing blood and oxygen, slide across the small expanse of exposed (s/t) skin, the thumb stopping just under a closed left eye and softly, lovingly, tenderly rubbing the area. It leaves the warmest goosebumps, so warm it should ache, dulling once the contact is distanced.
Whispers of ‘patience’ sound through the air, chilling down to the bone and causing him to pull away out of instinct. The reactions of those around him tell him that they aren’t really there, but he can’t help his response after being told such for so long. For so achingly long.
“Deku-kun,” He feels himself straighten at the voice beside him, a hand setting itself at the small of his back. The thumb rubs small, circles in an attempt to soothe his worrying, “If you keep tugging at your lip like that, you’ll rip it off.”
He becomes self-aware of his habit after his companion points it out, cheeks warming as he quickly lets it go. He wets his lips with his tongue after, teeth grazing over the bottom one as they pop out. He’s unable to stop the awkward chuckle that follows or the way his eyes flit from those around him to the body on the table.
“I’m sure (L/n)-San wouldn’t mind reattaching it once they wake, Uraraka-San,” Todoroki stands near the door, his eyes never straining from beyond the frame as he speaks to them. It’s hard to miss his tense demeanor from where they’re placed, one of his fangs pointing past his lips.
Izuku feels himself sweat at that, a wobbly smile forming on his face as he brings his full attention back to the other members of their group. The best he can manage out is a small “T-Thanks, Todoroki-San” as his hand connects with (Y/n)’s and laces his fingers through theirs.
Silence fills the room again after that. Midoriya can hear his heart racing and feel (Y/n)’s faint pulse. They pump in tandem together, like always. Yet, it does nothing to ease his fears. He knows that spell they cast was powerful, but they’ve been out for a few days now. The only reassurances he’s received of them still being alive was the small noises they’d make as they rested, the way their hand tightly holds his each time he holds it, and the addictive burn he receives with each touch to their skin.
The book of necromancy did say that some spells would be harder to cast for users with less experience, but Midoriya didn’t realize that translated to needing to rest for so long to regain the little strength of power (Y/n) knew how to use. He would’ve tried harder to suggest something else for their escape.
“Oi, Deku!” The rough voice of his childhood friend wakes him from his thoughts, his thumb and forefinger making themselves known on his lips as they tightly squeeze from the small jump he makes. He’s being side-eyed by shades of crimson, but not many would catch the soft worry behind them, “Me n Shitty Hair’s got the ship waiting at the dock. Cargo truck’s outside.”
Emerald eyes meet the fiery shades, an understanding spoken between them that only their little bubble could process. Without a beat, Bakugou comes forward and lifts the end of the slab they're laying across and Todoroki is quick to grab the other end. They load it into the cargo truck's trunk, careful to ensure they're strapped down in the back before Todoroki hops out.
Midoriya watches on, eyes longing for the warmth he’s just lost.
~~~~~
The car only holds four people, debatably three if you wanted to argue whether or not Midoriya could still be counted as human in his current form. He was undead, that much he could confirm from the way his body had been stitched together and the ice cold feeling of his skin when he wasn’t within a certain proximity of (Y/n). He was something like Frankenstein, but the context seemed less science fiction and more fantasy. He had no clue why he had been brought back to life, just that he had been. (Y/n) and Kacchan always avoided the question when he’d ask how he’d died.
That’s another thing, it’s always the three of them. Even now, only Kacchan and (Y/n) were going to board the boat with him. Kirishima was only here to take them there and back.
His gaze pans away from the passing scenery outside to the body pressed against his. His cheeks warm as bright a red as they possibly can at the proximity, yet he can’t force himself to move away from the burning sensation of their skin touching. It hurts in the nicest way possible, making him feel way more alive than he thought possible. It’s why he thought he had just woken from a long sleep instead of immediately thinking he’d come back to life, the warmth too comforting for him to question anything at the time. Both of his companions joked about it being out of character for him.
He takes in the low rise of their chest and the serene look of their face. It’s one of the very few times he hasn’t seen them worried out of their mind since being brought back to life. He’s tried not to keep count of their smiles, one of his favorite aspects about them. If with their lips held in a neutral shape, he’s fighting the urge to kiss them until they swell.
He feels himself warm more at the repeated thought of laying a kiss on their unconscious form. He should be ashamed, but he’s been wanting to be intimate with them for a while now. It’s gotten so bad he gets a little jealous when he catches them and Kacchan away from him, whispering between themselves in a bubble of their own that he feels he won’t fit in.
That thought sours his feelings a little, especially when he knows he could never take them from Kacchan and he could never take Kacchan from them. The idea of them moving forward without him, leaving him out, and further pushing him away from the picture he'd perfectly fit in before his current state, gives him a deep pit feeling in his chest that he doesn't enjoy dwelling on for too long.
But right here… Right now…? He could just give them a quick peck and pretend it didn’t happen. No one would know… Unless they woke up from it or something…
He weighs his options, emerald eyes measuring and tracing the outlines of your lips. He has vivid memories of the one time he managed to get a kiss from them, in the dead of night when the only witnesses aside from themselves were the twinkling constellations. He doesn't remember how long ago it was, but he can perfectly picture the sight of them shyly smiling, their face warm, and (e/c) eyes dilated like a super moon. Their lips fit perfectly against his, slated and locked like they were meant to be attached for eternity, and delectably soft like fresh baked goods straight from the oven. He'd press his lips against them as much as he possibly could, suffocate against them even.
The cons would be them waking and beating the shit out of him... Or Kacchan catching him and beating the shit out of him...
Midoriya leans forward, hand burning as he cups their cheek. He rubs his thumb against their skin as his lips finally meet theirs again. It feels like home, his lips feverishly sucking against the plump flesh like he'll never be able to do so again.
He pulls away once he realizes he's being too greedy, too desperate. He sucks in a deep breath, the butterflies rising to his chest as his heart pounds against his ribcage. He can feel the warm honeydew in his cheeks, worsening when his eyes dart up and meet a certain pair of crimson ones. They stare at one another for a moment, but Midoriya can't read what Bakugou is thinking at all. Bakugou sends him a small smile, or something close to it. His lips quirk upward on one side before he turns back to the road. Kirishima is talking about something, but he's obviously not paying attention.
"'Zuku?" The soft call of his name has him looking down, meeting the dazed stare of (Y/n). They're still relatively exhausted from their overuse of magic, a bit of light missing from their pupils. They press their cheek into his hand, the bags under their eyes heavy, "Are we... heading there?"
"We're going to the dock right now, (Y/n). Kacchan's in the front seat and Kirishima's driving us there," Midoriya informs them, voice low as to not cause them any discomfort. He knows they typically suffer from headaches after too much use of their necromancy abilities, "I'm sure you should be able to rest a bit longer-"
"No, no," They begin to sit up, getting a grip on his shoulder and using it to push themselves up. They let go and force themselves to sit up on their knees, getting in a position where they can easily look out the window, "I have to check that... we're not... Not being..."
Their voice trails off as they grab their head, another splintering headache racking their body from the sudden movement. Midoriya is quick to grab hold of them, leaning their body against his. Gravity lays them back across his lap, their face pressing into the fabric of his shirt while they close their eyes. Out of instinct, he presses his fingers against the nape of their neck, slowly sliding them upwards to press at various spots in the back of their head.
"No one's following us, (Y/n). We made sure of that..." He murmurs, pushing their hair out of their eyes. His hand eases down the side of their face, fingers hooking under their chin and pushing it up so they can see him better, "Get your rest."
"Izuku...," They stare at him for a moment, different emotions flashing through their (e/c) eyes. One of their hands reaches up for his cheek, the flesh feeling as if it'll catch on fire at any moment. They pull away too quickly for his liking, the same stricken look reaching their eyes like every other time they touch him and they're reminded of their afflictions. He's heard them apologize to him in the late hours before.
With little thought, he grabs their hand and presses it back to his flesh. He feels just a little closer to being human again at the touch. He nuzzles into their hold, keeping eye contact with them and watching the confliction beyond their irises. He doesn't care about the way his body screams to flinch away from the heat, pressing more into it as opposed to as opposed to running from it. He tightens his hold when he feels them try to tug away from him.
“Izuku, stop. You’re hurting yourself-,”
"No, it's okay," He responds too quickly, leaning into their touch. He presses his ear to their chest, listening to the steady beating of their heart and the movement of their breathing in their chest. The heat isn't as excruciating, simmering to an addictive warmth adjacent to bodies entangled in a hug. It crawls over his skin and wraps around him like a blanket, "Everything is okay..."
He never wants to leave from (Y/n)'s hold, (Y/n)'s warmth, ever again. He doesn't know how he could ever live without it, especially not now when the cold is even colder than before...
#midoriya izuku x reader#midoriya x reader#midoriya izuku#this is based on a Horikoshi sketch from a year or so ago and a WEBTOON I was obsessed with at the time#there’s some Bakugou x reader and bakudeku x reader if you squint#original draft had them very poly coded and it might still be there whoops#also slight Yandere!Deku at the end whoops#erm here’s your Halloween special for the year 👉🏾👈🏾#I will hopefully be back shortly with another piece ✌🏾#I mean it bc I have a few requests I actually like that I’m working on and a big fic that’s been years in the making#the big fic probs won’t get any notes tho 🫣#tumblr did not like this one 😭😭😭 she wouldn’t save it was crazy#thought my thing was too long but it’s only 4 pages on Google docs so#shawty was tripping#yes I did listen to Frankenstein the musical while I wrote this wdym
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Substance, Shadow, and Spirit [remixed, abridged] by Tao Yuanming
#liv in the replies#patrice bergeron#boston bruins#brad marchand#do you ever think about how brad marchand said that when bergy retired he would retire or are you capable of normal thought i'm not at all#please say a gratitude for both my sanity& y'all that this poem (which has been saved in my camera roll with the vague idea of using it for#??? long) & not one of the poems i had saved for carey for a really long time & remixed & everything with another poem until i found a poem#that absolutely murdered me in cold blood but there is an alternate universe where i did& then had to explain my unhinged thoughts to you.#anyway how are we feeling about bergy retirement. pspspspsp sara & luna are y'all doing okay like. the doc title for this one was#patrice the hockey player means a lot to me but patrice the person means so much more#which is why the end line of the other poem was so *%"@^)! (you love / what you are) because patrice does. like he is a whole ass good huma#& now since no one asked i need to tell you all the details about everything also y'all please clap i made an edit with NO baby pictures#although i did find one & save it & minimal genres of photo i always use in edits because they're my taste & aesthetic but anyway.#when i saved the first photo and marked it as one i wanted i accidentally wrote “how will he know they love him” which is not the line but#makes me feel feral about patrice & the rest of them all had hurtful names too but also. the third picture is literally a CELLY like brad#just scored a goal & he is clinging to bergy for dear life with that shit i saved that as “oh the agony on his face for unendurable”#& yes it is one of my cliches to have a draft day picture but in my defense the lifelong bond that patrice has/d with boston deserved to be#there even if i put in the love story & YES that picture is from the 2011 playoff right below it shared joy & pain & i couldn't tell you#when the brad marchy photo for together forever is except for the fact that i saw it & just the gut punch of oh my god the way he looks at#things men will praise you for is the stanley cup. duh. but i love the contrast of “some deed” being the stanley cup but then#bergy's choice to do noble deeds (ends up still earning praise &that's my note to his efforts outside of hockey we love a supportive captai#should also mention the first two i came up with & had the photos i knew i wanted for were the first and last one alskaldk but i KNEW i#wanted chara somewhere in the paragraph about leaving & then while i was looking found the one of bergy playing tuukka on accident & yes#i do have to make goalie jokes every time. no reprieve . no dice/no deal/no goal goalies have no rest/reprieve etc etc the one that killed#me though was looking for a patrice award pic & i wanted basically the one that i got for “how will you know any will praise you” & instead#also got the picture of patrice winning the some community hero award for charity work that he does & i love him mama & of COURSE that puck#is from bergy's 1000 game who do you think I am (if you guessed sleepy and emotional about patrice you'd be right) and ALSO please be ready#for all the patrice posts/bruins posts that have been sitting in my drafts to be released on this occasion of patrice retirement#I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT TUUKKA ALSO RETIRED THAT’S WHY HE WAS ON WISE OR SIMPLE NO REPRIEVE AND THAT LATE OR SOON WAS ALWAYS GOING TO BE#CHARA BECAUSE CHARA LEFT FIRST TO GO TO THE CAPS AND THEN LEFT IN RETIRMENT HE LEFT SOON BUT NOT FOR REAL THEN LATER LEFT FOR REAL (RETIRED)
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ugly maths.
i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.
thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!
you... wanna see?
okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!
ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!
huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—
better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—
mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?
here, i can make it worse.
these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.
now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.
why ugly?
because it makes me ugly.
those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.
87, 75.
the thoughts are as follows:
• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.
• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.
• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!
okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:
that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.
4, 708.
ugly maths.
the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!
27.
mmmm.
6161, 1061.
5100.
87, 75.
12.
mmmm.
you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(
it made me :)
well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.
they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.
1.
have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?
i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.
oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.
ready?
838, 245.
(want a hint? the green numbers!)
838, 87. 245, 75.
9.6, 3.3.
ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!
the numbers make me ask new questions:
• why is it not good enough?
• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?
• is all this maths this really good for you?
no, it isn't.
i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.
ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.
ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.
i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.
#helia rants#cw vent#i'm okay but i'm not#this has been playing on my mind over the last couple of weeks#it's aimed at the sky rather than anyone here#i know i'm not the best myself as commenting. i justify it to myself by affirming i don't read much. which i don't.#since the start of the year i have tried to comment on everything i have read#bearing in mind i may also dm someone rather than comment because i want to scream and ramble about their fic more personally#that being said. i know i'm not the only one who finds themselves doing ugly maths#and in turn starting to feel uglier too#i don't like looking at the numbers#i was doing well at the start of the year#but as i open my drafts and look to a new chapter and at the notes i wrote#i can't stop myself from opening the fic. from seeing where it's at. from seeing if it's changed. from checking my inbox to see if...#if only...#what it's meant is that i've come to a point where a fic i loved has become exactly that: a fic i loved. past tense#the other fic is still a fic i love. but i know deep down that that is tied to the numbers too#i hate that this is what i've become#because i have tiny fics. fics with 50 hits and maybe 1 comment. and i love them. i still love them#but when it comes to the big ones. the multi-chapters. the hefty fics. after a point all i see are numbers#and those numbers have come to determine both my happiness and fulfilment as a writer#and so i am ugly. i am sad. i am pathetic.#and i don't know how to stop.#helia's stuff#this was meant to save back into my drafts. i was editing tags. tumblr decided it should post. so... so be it.#also this is not an attention thing if anyone dares go 'oh but you're a good writer uwu' i might do something we'll all regret#this is also not a 'ffs comment on my fics will you 😒' hell no#it's just about me. and my issue. and my unhealthy relationship with these fucking numbers.#gotta get this shit out of my head somehow :)
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YWDaC: Maybe It’s Not So Fun After All
Hiii here is part 2 of pirate shenanigans I’ll probably do one more to finish this out but it probably won’t be for a while cuz I have some other stuff I wanna work on so enjoy for now ✨
←Previous - Castys Masterlist - Next→
Ingredients: pirate battle, wood splinters in a guy, stitches
The next few weeks were truly a learning experience, and also just an experience. Castys learned far more than he ever thought there was to know about ropes and knots and wind and how to clean things, all while his back slowly hurt less and less. He hadn’t even been whipped that much, but it was still super unfun as an experience, enough to motivate him to be a good little pirate. Well, more like a sailor, they hadn’t done any pirate activities since he was so kindly given a spot on the crew.
And of course when battle did come, he wished he could go right back to the peaceful days of hard labor and yelling.
Kamon had been teaching him to use a sword during their free time, since Castys’s spear wasn’t well suited for combat aboard a crowded ship, but before he even got a chance to use it, the ships had to fire their cannons at each other a bunch. It was loud, somehow way louder than he’d been expecting, and his arms burned from carrying ammunition up from the hold. By the time the fun part started, he was already gonna be exhausted, just great.
His new orders were to take supplies up to the main deck, and he was somehow surprised that there was even more chaos and yelling up here than down below. They were getting pretty close to the other ship now, and it was probably almost time to board them and steal all their shit, which he was actually excited for. Mainly the stealing part.
Just as he set the crate down, there was a loud crack next to him, and his body lit up with all these sharp little pains, like…he looked down, and he was indeed covered in splinters. They were a wonderful variety of sizes, from tiny little ones that weren’t even making him bleed to ones that were as long as his hand, but the worst one had poked completely through his fucking cheek, filling his mouth with the taste of wood and blood, which was a weird combination. Ears ringing, he stumbled away from the destroyed railing, and was just about to start pulling the splinters out before he remembered the medic’s stern warning to not pull splinters out yourself. So he had a cheek piercing for now, hooray.
Before he’d made it back belowdecks, Captain Izogie called for everyone to get ready to board, so nevermind to hauling stuff. Castys pulled out the sword he’d been given, the weight still feeling a little unnatural, but it was all he was gonna get. He saw some dudes climbing up the rigging and swinging over on ropes, but he’d rather just wait and walk over on the plank like a normal person. Was boarding another ship a normal person thing? Okay, really, swinging looked fun, but he didn’t feel like climbing when he was full of holes that were full of wood. Also he didn’t trust himself to land without breaking something.
And then it was his turn to cross the plank, running so he didn’t have time to look down and think about falling into the cold ocean, jumping down into the chaos of the fight, trying his best to weave through the clashing metal and warm spurts of blood, and suddenly he was face-to-face with someone, someone he didn’t recognize, and he raised his sword, but just as he was about to swing he remembered that he’d never fought another human, not for real, and he couldn’t help but hesitate, and they didn’t, they swung, he only jumped back at the last second, it was them or him, he had to fight, remember what he’d learned, remember what it felt like to slice through flesh and hear screams, and it was more familiar once he did it, coming back to him now, his grip steady as he jumped over the body and moved on, belowdecks, rummaging around for valuables, helping his crewmates pry crates open and carry them back to the ship, the wood almost slipping out of his hands, when did they get slick with blood, he wasn’t sure, it was all a haze of back and forth, up and down, fight and slash and stab and dodge and search and carry and he almost walked back across the plank onto the now-sinking ship, all of its contents plundered, all of its crew dead.
The fight was over, and everything hurt.
With shaky hands, he tried to put his sword back in its scabbard, but someone stopped him. “Clean your blade, newbie. And then go see the doc. You look like shit.” Castys nodded, wiping the blood from his sword with his shirt before sheathing it and stumbling belowdecks. Maybe he’d get less of a share of the treasure this way, but at the moment he didn’t care. He just wanted the damn splinters out. And the gash in his arm probably needed stitches, which were always his favorite.
He found Alfyn’s quarters without much trouble, having been there before after he’d been flogged on his first day. The healer was busy tending to people with more pressing wounds, so Castys just sat on the floor and watched. Alfyn’s healing magic was so strange to watch, the way he could just hold his hands out and make flesh rejoin the other flesh super unfamiliar to Castys. Neither of them could use magic back on the islands, so the whole concept was sorta new to him, especially this weird healing stuff. His fingers teased with the splinter through his cheek, wiggling it against his tongue. It would be kinda funny to pull it out and then try to squirt water out of the hole in his cheek, but that would require pulling it out and then finding water and also someone who would think he was funny, which sounded like a lot, so he settled for fucking with it and waiting for Alfyn.
By the time he got to him, Alfyn’s nose was plugged with a rag that was either completely soaked in blood or just red, but maybe it was red because it had been soaked in blood before. He looked Castys up and down, and Castys showed off his arm gash since it was very painful. Alfyn nodded, beckoning Castys to stand. “Nothing you’ve got’s pressing enough to use my magic on, but I’ll still get you fixed up. You’re…Castys, right?”
“That’s my name.” Castys sat on the little table, the spots of blood on it soaking into his pants, which kind of sucked, but what wasn’t dirty on this ship, anyway? “So why can’t I take out the splinters myself?”
Alfyn laughed a little, coming back over with tweezers and a metal bucket that had a bunch of other splinters in it. “I don’t trust you lot to get them out completely. If you do it wrong, little bits can get left behind.” He then started pulling out Castys’s splinters the right way, which seemed to be to do it slow and to use tweezers, but Castys could be wrong since he was a little distracted by all of his little wounds hurting all over again. Alfyn did the one in his cheek last, and once it was out Castys poked at the hole left behind with his tongue despite the pain, which got a sigh out of Alfyn instead of a laugh.
“Please don’t make the wound worse, Castys.”
“Sorry.” He was then a very still and patient and well-behaved boy while Alfyn cleaned all of his wounds, arm gash included. Whatever liquid Alfyn was pouring on everything stung a lot, but he sat still so he didn’t make things more difficult for Alfyn, who looked really damn tired now that Castys was paying attention.
“Alright, your arm and cheek are going to need stitches, so please keep holding still like you’ve been doing.”
“They used to call me statue boy.” Kind of funny considering the time he almost did get turned into a statue, but that was a joke for just him. He clenched his fists and Alfyn approached with the needle and thread. He’d been through this more than once, he’d be fine, it was all things he’d felt before. The sensation of the needle poking into his skin, the tug of thread following behind, the hand on his chin…
“Hold still.”
“I’m trying, but it’s hard not to laugh at the faces you’re making.”
“I’m trying to focus here, Castys, come on. You don’t want this to be a super nasty scar, do you?”
“Uh…I don’t really care. As long as I can still eat food and stuff what does it matter? I don’t see anyone else besides you, and I don’t think you care either.”
“I-I don’t, but…maybe there will be other people, someday?”
“Even then, whatever. If they’re scared off by a scar on my face they’re probably losers, anyway.”
“So you’ll fit right in, then!”
“And yet you still hang out with me all of the time.”
“Yeah, ‘cause there’s literally no one else, dumbass. It’s not like I have options.”
“Sucks to suck. I’m…I’m okay with just you, though.”
“...Me too, Castys. But that might change if you don’t sit still.”
His scars hurting more than his actual wounds was stupid, but it was certainly happening. He left Alfyn’s quarters in sort of a daze, trying to bury everything the stitches had brought to the surface. Focus on anything and everything else, on the awful food, on talking with Kamon, on getting more respect from the other crewmates, on drinking stolen ale, on the share of the treasure he was promised once they reached land.
But that night, lying awake in his hammock as the crew snored around him, his scars still hurting, the pain cutting through the warm haze of the alcohol, he didn’t feel any less alone.
Next→
Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump @starnight-whump @his-unspoken-words @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg @pumpkin-spice-whump @painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump @whumpinggrounds @whump-queen @whumpedydump @theelvishcowgirl
#i wrote something#castys#pirate whump#stitches#splinters#HAHAHA USING LEGACY EDITOR SINCE I SAVED A FEW BLANK POSTS TO MY DRAFTS#i wish i saved more but oh well#bit shorter of a thing it's less than 2k words wow#i just didnt have anything else i wanted to do with this one idk once again i feel like there's not much but also i know all the lore#i dont think ill be able to keelhaul him tho 😔 he's being a very well-behaved boy since he's so young so he doesnt have any reason to be#he's not used to pain like normal so he's scared of getting whipped again and that's enough to keep him in like#most people make random ocs and get attached to them#i make random ocs and end up using less than i planned on#but it is what it is (￣_￣;)#now im gonna work on goretober bits and maybe the next E&T chapter cuz it would be cool if i could finish that by halloween#i can write i just have to force myself to do it really i just want to game and watch anime in my free time#but i dont want that to be the case i would like to Make Something#oh and sorry the fight was like a paragraph/sentence it just wasnt working any other way so sorry if it's underwhelming or something idk
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If Red Lantern Rankorr has 1000 haters one of them is me. If he has 100 haters I'm there. If he only has 1 hater that is me. If no one hates him I am no longer on this Earth. I hate Rankorr. Fuck that bitch
LMAOO going through my drafts rn and damn I really hated this guy. I mean I still do but idk this is funny to me
#the fact that i have more drafts than followers...#which ok isnt that impressive theres like 30 of you guys but still all my shitty dc drafts#i say shitty but its really just a mix between posts that i feel like i havent read enough comics to back up fully and dont want to seem#ignorant about (comma) stuff thats more shippy than usual (still like incredibly tame though)#and then like the stupidest fuckin future 0 note posts youve ever seen#also like some reading guides and meta in progress but thats split between here and my notes app generally#its so funny though bc i always get my best ideas abt comics like 2 minutes before one of my classes start#and then i forget about it in my drafts#like theres an absolutely devastating (to me) jess one that has like 2 sentences written#which i should like actually write#what was i saying?#oh and theres a lot of reading guides/comic recs thats where i save those#which now after scrolling thru rlly makes me want to read#where tf was this post going again? oh i was laughing at me hating rankorr#if i wrote comics id ressurect him off panel just to kill him again. if hes dead. i dont remember if hes dead but i think so? who tf knows#blah#i can make a vers without my dumb little comment on here btw if anyone actually wants to rb this lol but i doubt it
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Get excited! I actually finished another oneshot for tomorrow...
#allylikethecat#ally's thoughts#actually don't get excited it's very niche#and i know it's not going to appeal to the masses lol#but *i'm* excited about it and since this is my blog#and i write fic because it makes me happy#that's what matters lol#also this is the warning that if this isn't the fic for you that is okay#just please click past it and carry on with your life instead of being mean about it#i don't think anyone that currently follows me *would* be mean about anything like that#but im still a little paranoid after the mean anons this summer lol#ANYWAY#i wrote an angst mpreg one shot#i am happy with it#i am proud of it#if it's not your thing that is totally valid#just please dont be mean about it because I mean no harm with it#and i have the draft saved with as many warnings as i could think of#im oversharing in the tags again im sorry#small bump#the title is terrible blame ed sheeran#i couldnt think of anything else though#happy tuesday#fuck i think im just oversharing in general today#idk whats up with me like i know i overshare normally#but today i just cant seem to keep my mouth shut#i blame this time of year#the holidays make me extra weird
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i literally love ur account, i think about like, ships between football players and people think its weird because of the whole, “only strong and tough guys watch football” like ? i’m sure they’d wanna kiss josh allen too 💪 ur account makes me so happy, i love looking at ur tags when u post to see what u think !!! UR SO COOL :) !!!! (also, whats ur 🫵 opinion on josh and joey b if u dont mind me asking)
:0 thank you for the kind ask!! Happy that others find the ramblings in my tags amusing :>
Do let me know what kinda ships you think about, whether anonymously or not 🤔 I’m open to hearing abt it!! (Is starved for content) I do think that the perception of football as this paragon of masculinity in American culture leads to it having very male fan spaces (though ofc that is changing). Abt your comment that guys would also want to kiss Josh Allen, well… I’ve seen shirts that say they’d like to do a whole lot more than that, but I’ll leave it at that. There’s this paper called “In the Log Cabin with My Favorite Player” which you can find online that I found really fascinating, it’s about baseball but I think the general gist of it can be applied to other sports (which is that guys in fan spaces are cool with saying really gay stuff to praise their favorite athletes, even if they themselves are not gay).
But yeah anyways I think that Josh and Joe are cool I like both of them 👍 Joe was actually the reason I became a Bengals fan (to the surprise of nobody) because back when I was looking for a team to support I saw that the Bengals had drafted him with the first overall pick. I thought that he seemed pretty cool and was interested in ~the narrative~ so I decided to follow the Bengals, who do have a history that is vaguely compelling to me. It definitely has been enjoyable, even during that really rough first year (still have flashbacks to Week One of the 2020 season 😔). Josh seems endearing, it’s probably the vibe that he gives off that’s like some kind of big dog (however I’ve been jumpscared by that Gillette ad too many times so uh can I have compensation /j). I think his narrative from like talented but raw to being what he is now is neat (did this lead to proliferation in other NFL teams trying to draft a guy like him? Maybe but that’s a story for another day) Idk they both def appear to be pretty solid guys, and I’d be happy with either of them as my team’s QB :D
If you mean them in a shipping context uh… I mean they’re friends? I know they work with the same coach in the off-season or something 😭 it’s not the most far fetched thing I’ve heard but also I have different agendas (looks away). However if that is something you support more power to you tbh I’m not judging 🫡 speak your truth
But yeah I hope this was a solid response!! Thank you again for the ask it was very sweet and made me smile :>
#I wrote most of this at 2 am but then I accidentally refreshed the app and forgot to save the draft 😭 so I rewrote it when I woke up#also not me bringing up a sports paper in my ask 🧍 I think it’s an interesting one tho! maybe bc the topic intrigued me#perhaps I should switch majors but also I should keep my hobbies hobbies idk#ANYWAYS again do feel free to send asks i enjoy answering them#asks#anon
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baby stop teasing us with fics 😩
I mean I could expand upon my ideas a little bit if you were like into that sort of thing
#ask#I have a time travel shoni au outlined in my google docs#I have a canon shoni relationship reveal au outlined in google docs#I have these three really long drabbles I wrote like a year ago saved in my tumblr drafts#one is a follow up to my shoni unrequited love au the other is a band au and the other is like hard to describe in short way but Toni sells#drugs in it 🫶🏻🫶🏻 it’s like an alternate version of a post I wrote about a secret relationship au where I mention Shelby getting left at a bu#station by Toni – they were supposed to skip town together but Dave caught wind of it and ruined everything#I have another au thot about canon shoni where Toni reveals in response to Rachel talking about becoming a carpenter that her favorite class#in school is woodshop and one of Marty’s cousins owns a construction company and in the summers they let Toni work with them which is all to#say that Shelby asks if Toni would ever build her something and I mean we’re talking about the biggest chest puffer ever so ofc she says yes#and then Shelby all coyly asks if Toni would ever build her a house and the insinuation is obviously it would be their house and that theyd#have a future off the island and Toni is all in and tells her she’ll build her the best house she’s ever seen–way better than those Texas#McMansions she’s used to and so it kinda becomes their thing when their alone with one another to talk about what they want their house to#look like ya know they’re cuddling after sex and Shelby says she’s always wanted a garden so Toni tells her that’d be easy–she could build#some planters and a trellis. another time it’s night time and they’re stargazing when Shelby says she wants their house to have a big front#porch and maybe a white picket fence but she’s not sure about that one yet#also I had this other thot one time that I made a post about where I said I was gonna write a one shot about Toni finding a pearl on the#island and using scrap airplane parts manages to make a ring for Shelby#that’s all I can remember off the top of the dome
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Hey!
You there! Yeah, You! The one who liked my fic and ONLY liked my fic!
A reblog would be nice!!!!1!!1!!
#i am grateful and thankful and all of the above for ANY interaction whatsoever#i truly am#but goddamnit it really makes me feel like a piece of shit author when i see someone ONLY liked a fic i wrote#nothing else#i know i havent written in a while#i have drafts saved in my drive#but cmon man#really?#how many times do we gotta tell yall#and it doesnt even take anything!!!!! two clicks thats it!!!!!#and i reblog all the reblogs with a thank you!!!! thats how sparse they are!!!!#idk man#i have a headache#jen rants in the tags#also this isn't any specific call out post just a general one
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So here's a lil post about a logo i've been using for a few years now.
The first one is from around 2019-2020. Made in Photoshop with a drawing tablet. When i was first starting out.
The second one from 2021. Now made in Illustrator for a cleaner look. Still keeping the core design while giving it a more sleek look.
The third one in 2022. Now has a more consistant look. Ditching all rounded lines for a more hard edge design.
Re-designing this was a lot of fun. Especialy when giving it a more distinct look from the old ones.
Few specific changes id like to mention
Ears. The ears on the old ones were always kinda wierd with it's rounded shadow and boxy (but still rounded?) Outline. So giving it some dimension and straightening the lines made it better.
Eyes/nose. The eyes were always a pain in the ass to align. So making them squares was better. The nose bridge looked a little wonky when i was straight down. Moving the nose bridge to the actual nose made it look better.
I've been rambling for long enough about a logo. There will always be something to re-disign and fine-tune, but at some point you need to stop. Take a step back and look at what you have created. For what it was and how it evolved to what it is now.
Look back to what you've created. See how it started and what made you change it along the way.
Write it down or post it somewhere, maybe you'll find it in the future. As a chance to look back again.
#also i'm very salty at tumblr for making me think that my draft didn't save#so i lost the original better version of the end speel that i wrote with my heart#and had to see that better draft get saved over with a infirior one right before my eyes.#>:( im angy
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GUTS | a lando norris social media au | pt. 1
pairing: lando norris x singer!reader, ex!drew starkey x reader
y/n l/n’s latest album is speculated to be about her ex. however, she already moved on.
note: fc is olivia rodrigo! i hope the quality of the photos are okay, everytime i saved my drafts on my phone they became blurry :(
disclaimer: no hate to drew!! i just needed a famous ex. also so sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos!!
masterlist ⋆ next
yourusername
liked by oliviarodrigo, yourbestie and 4,779,774 others
yourusername ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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yourbestie soooooo proud of you 🥹 this album is amazing
user teenage dream made me BAWL i love you 😭😭
user MISS Y/N, YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN
oliviarodrigo obsessed.
user omg are the songs about drew
enews
41,202 likes
enews In Y/n’s new album, “Guts,” Y/n shares information on her old relationship with Drew Starkey. The pair started dating last year until ultimately breaking up in the beginning of 2023.
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user omggg this is the drama i’ve been waiting for
user you guys really chose to focus on this when not even half the songs are about drew
user this album saved 2023
yourusername
liked by yourbestie, bellahadid and 6,313,074 others
tagged yourbestie and conangray
yourusername some GUTS bts, still can’t believe it’s out but i’m so happy it’s yours!!!! been sitting on these songs for a few months and although some of them are a little outdated, they still mean a lot to me!!
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conangray spilling my guts absolutely everywhere
yourbestie LETS GO GUTS
user album has in fact been on repeat since the release🫡
user “a little outdated” girl please elaborate you can’t leave us hanging like that 😭😭
f1updates
28,459 likes
f1updates Lando Norris with fans in New York! Most likely staying there until the #SingaporeGP
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user 🤤
user what is he doing in new york?
↳ user no literally bc it’s kinda sus there’s no reason for him to be there 😭😭
user ugh he looks so good
deuxmoi
57,380 likes
deuxmoi 🚨 NEW COUPLE ALERT 🚨
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user obviously it’s y/n l/n but which driver???
user you guys are srsly bored
user kinda iconic of her to go from drew to an f1 driver
↳ user fr i just know drew has to be feeling some type of way rn
user Y/N DATING AN F1 DRIVER WAS NOT ON MY 2023 BINGO CARD
yourusername
liked by yourbestie, zendaya and 2,116,844 others
yourusername soooo excited to be performing at the @/VMAs!!! make sure to tune in on Tuesday at 8pm on #MTV
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yourbestie talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, showstopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely never been done before
zendaya AHH can't wait!!
user wait am i crazy or am i connecting the dots right now
landonorris
liked by danielricciardo, charlesleclerc and 1,950,468 others
landonorris Quick NY stop
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danielricciardo Where was my invite?
↳ landonorris ...
user IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH OMFG
↳ user the fact that he was the one to soft launch first IM CRYING she's living my dream 😭
user is that y/n 😭😭
user GUYS ITS HAPPENING
drewstarkey
834,801 likes
drewstarkey bad idea right?
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user this is so messy omg 😭😭
user NO HE DID NOT
↳ user wait i'm so confused why are people freaking out?
↳ user "bad idea right?" is one of the songs y/n wrote about him and the song literally talks about her wanting to go back to him
user posting this right after guts and lando's soft launch is CRAZY
#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 social media au#lando norris x reader#lando norris x singer!reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris au#f1 fic#instagram au#social media au
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Against All Odds - L.HS
𝜗ৎSynopsis𝜗ৎ : Heeseung and Yn had never been on good terms with eachother. Yn had always like Heeseung, but Heeseung hadn't really realised how much he liked her until that one night...
𝜗ৎWarnings𝜗ৎ : MDNI, Smut, degradation words {slut, whore, etc}, Heeseung is kinda toxic, sadistic scenes {as always T.T}, Second ml syndrome, unprotected sex {naurr}
𝜗ৎAuthor's note𝜗ৎ : So it was supposed to be released 2 days agobut tumblr didn't save my draft so i basically re-wrote a lot of scenes and it turned out really rushed and i'm really sorry for that. And this is also my first fic exceeding over 2k words ^^
dividers and moodboard are by @dollywons
𝜗ৎWord count𝜗ৎ : 7.6 k {TT TT}
It had been years since I last saw Heeseung. We had grown up together, attending the same schools, sharing the same classrooms, and even living on the same street. But that all changed when we turned 18. Something had snapped inside of him, and he suddenly became this intolerable asshole who seemed to enjoy making my life a living hell. He knew I liked him and he'd always use it against me. He'd just fuck me and just disappear. I didn't understand it then, and I still didn't now, as I stood in front of the mirror in my dorm room, getting ready for the college welcome party.
I had been hesitant to go at first, mostly because I was afraid of running into him. But my friends had practically dragged me there, promising me that there were plenty of other people to meet and have fun with. And so, here I was, in the middle of a crowded room filled with strangers, trying to focus on the music and the laughter around me, while my mind kept drifting back to him.
Just then, a familiar voice cut through the noise, and I felt my heart skip a beat. It was him. Heeseung. He looked different somehow, older and more confident. His features were sharper, more defined, and he carried himself with an air of arrogance that I couldn't quite place. He was talking to a group of people I didn't recognize, laughing at something they must have said, and for a brief moment, I felt a strange mix of anger and jealousy rise up inside me.
But then, something unexpected happened. He glanced in my direction, our eyes meeting for the briefest of moments, and there was something in his expression that I couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't hatred, or anger, or even disdain. It was… something else. Curiosity, maybe? Before I could process it further, he turned away, returning to his conversation with his new friends.
A wave of confusion washed over me, and I found myself struggling to breathe as I tried to understand what had just happened. Why did he look at me like that? And why did it feel like my heart was about to burst out of my chest? I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
As the night went on, I found myself constantly glancing in his direction, watching him interact with others, trying to decipher the enigmatic expression that had been etched onto his face earlier. He was charismatic and engaging, and people seemed to gravitate towards him effortlessly. And yet, there was something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Something that made me feel both drawn to him and repulsed at the same time.
I must have been staring at him for too long, because suddenly, someone handed me a drink. Before I could ask what it was, the fruity liquid went down my throat, and an unexpected warmth spread throughout my body. I felt a newfound sense of confidence wash over me, and with it came the urge to approach him. To say something, to break the ice. But what could I possibly say to someone like him?
I took another sip of my drink, trying to steady my nerves as I made my way through the crowd towards him. His back was to me, and for a brief moment, I considered just turning around and going back to my friends. But something inside me refused to let go of this absurd desire to confront him. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was the years of pent-up anger and frustration finally bubbling to the surface.
And before I knew it, the alcohol took over my sanity. With a deep breath, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, his expression unreadable as he looked at me. For a moment, neither of us said anything. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears, and my heart raced as I searched for something to say. Anything to break the silence.
"Hey," I managed to choke out, my voice sounding strangely thick in my ears. "Remember me?"
He raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by my drunken bravado. "Should I?" he drawled, his voice smooth as silk.
I couldn't help but feel a flash of anger at his arrogance. "You remember me, don't you?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're exaggerating" he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I barely remember you."
I felt a stab of anger course through me as I realized I had been hoping for some sort of apology, some acknowledgement of the pain he had caused. But it seemed I was wrong.
"Well, maybe you don't remember me, but I remember you," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I remember every single time you called me names, every single time you pushed me around, every single time you made me feel like I wasn't good enough. Every single time you'd leave me alone and just disappear"
His expression turned mockingly sympathetic, and I felt a hot flush of anger course through me. "Is that so?" he drawled. "And what makes you think that any of that matters now?"
"Because it does matter!" I exclaimed, my voice rising. "It mattered then, and it matters now. You may think you're all grown up and sophisticated now, but you can't just walk away from the things you've done."
He laughed, shaking his head. "You really are something else, aren't you? Still holding onto the past like it means something."
I felt a sting of hurt at his words, but I refused to let it show. "The past shapes who we are, you know," I said, my voice steady despite the alcohol. "And you can't just pretend it never happened."
He snorted derisively. "Well, you're hardly in any position to judge me," he sneered. "Look at you, wasted and pathetic. Drunk off your ass at your own party."
I felt a stab of pain at his words, but I refused to let him see it. Instead, I smiled sweetly and took another sip of my drink. "You're right," I said, nodding slowly. "I am wasted. But you know what? It feels good to finally stand up to you, even if it is in a drunken haze."
"You're so fucking pathetic" He laughed, shaking his head. "Still so angry, still so… consumed by the past. You really think I give a shit about any of this?" He took a step closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Look at you, drunk and pathetic. Just like the old days."
He pulled me by my waist, closer to him, "Aren't you still the slut who wants to beg for my cock?"
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck. "You think you're someone important, someone who can stand up to me?" He said as he nibbled the flesh around my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You're still just a pathetic little whore, just like you always were."
I couldn't help but fall into his manipulative touch again. It was as if I was drawn to the pain, as if I needed him to hurt me in order to feel alive. I let out a soft moan, arching my back against him as he continued to nibble and suck at my neck. His hands moved lower, cupping my ass and grinding me against his hard length. The alcohol seemed to fog my thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything but the sensation of his body against mine.
--
So here we were, in Heeseung's house. I had no idea how we even ended up her but all I could feel right now were his fingers tracing patterns on my skin, making me shiver. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear, and whispered, "You're such a slut for me."
And just like that, something inside me snapped. It was like a switch had been flipped. All of a sudden, I didn't care about how much I hated him or how much he pissed me off. I didn't care how I was letting him have me so easily, how wrong this was. All I could think about was how good it would feel to have him inside me. How right it would feel to have him claim me again, even if just for this one night.
I arched my back, pressing my bare chest against his, and whispered back, "You know I am, Heeseung." And before I could even process what was happening, his hand found the hem of my shirt and yanked it over my head.
My breath hitched as his eyes roamed over my bare skin, tracing the lines of my collarbone and the swell of my breasts. He cupped one of them in his hand, thumb teasing at the peak of my nipple. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, and then his lips were on me, sucking gently at my nipple while his fingers worked their magic, rubbing and teasing until I was moaning into his mouth.
He eased me back onto the bed, his body pressing against mine, and I could feel his erection against my thigh. Heat pooled low in my belly, and I spread my legs wider, inviting him in. "Fuck me," I breathed, and he groaned, sliding his hands down to my hips, lifting me up, and guiding himself inside me.
I let out a sharp cry as he filled me, the feeling of being so completely possessed by him sending a wave of pleasure through me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my nails into his back, and he started moving, his hips thrusting in a rhythm that was as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.
"S-so fucking tight" his voice ragged and low, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I could feel the tension building inside me, coiling tight, and I knew I was going to come soon, so I arched my back, meeting each of his thrusts with a moan, urging him on.
And then he groaned, his body tense as he released himself deep inside me, and I felt the first wave of my orgasm crash over me, shattering every nerve ending in my body. His name was on my lips as I came, and he seemed to draw strength from it, his hips moving faster, harder, until I could feel another orgasm building, ready to explode from deep within me.
He leaned down, capturing my lips in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth as he continued to move, his body moving in perfect rhythm with mine. I could feel the muscles in his back flex and relax as he powered into me, each thrust driving me closer and closer to the edge.
As I neared my second climax, he began to whisper dirty words in my ear, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine."Such a slut for my dick, Aren't ya!".
"I hate you so much" I said, and it was in that moment that I realized how much I loved the way he made me feel. How much I loved the way he made me lose control. Although I wanted to hate him, but my body wouldn't agree.
And then he groaned, his body tensing as he came again, filling me up with his heat and his passion. His weight pressed down on me, holding me to the bed, and I could feel the aftershocks of our combined orgasms rippling through my body. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before rolling off to the side, his breathing still ragged and uneven.
For a moment, we lay there in silence, our bodies tangled together, and I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine. I wanted to hate him for the things he'd said, for the way he'd treated me, but in that moment, all I could think about was how good it had felt to be with him. How right it had felt to give in to the desire that had been building between us for so long.
---
The next morning I woke up to an empty space beside me. I rolled out of bed. The room was still spinning, my head pounding, and my body aching in places I didn't know existed. As I stumbled to the bathroom, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for last night. Not for the sex, but for the way I'd let him get under my skin again.
I wore his hoodie along with his pants as I made my way downstairs, the scent of him still clinging to the fabric. The apartment was quiet, and I could hear the faint sound of the TV coming from his room. I hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door. When there was no answer, I pushed it open and found him sprawled across the bed, his back to me, a remote control in his hand.
"Hey," I said, my voice barely audible.
He didn't respond, and for a moment I thought he hadn't heard me. But then he slowly turned his head to look at me over his shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked exhausted. There was a slight smile on his lips, and it made my heart ache.
"Hey," he repeated, his voice rough. "You look good in my clothes, But you look even better without them"
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. "You're an asshole, you know that?" I said, trying to keep the anger in my voice. But the truth was, I didn't feel angry anymore. I felt confused.
He chuckled, sitting up a little more before looking me in the eye. "You love it, though," he said with a grin. "You know you can't resist me." His hand reached out to trace my cheekbone, and I felt myself lean into his touch despite everything.
I hated how easy of a target I was. How I always fell into his lousy trap but couldn't help myself. His touch, his words, they were like a drug to me, and I had no self-control when it came to them. But I couldn't let him see that. I had to keep some part of myself hidden, some part that wasn't just a slave to his whims.
I pulled away from his touch, forcing a small laugh as I did so. "Oh, please. You're just as addicted to me as I am to you." I turned to walk back out of the room, but before I could take more than a step, he grabbed my wrist roughly, pulling me back against his chest. His other arm came around me, holding me tightly as he buried his face in my neck.
"You're right," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I am addicted to you. I can't get enough of you." His grip on me tightened, and I could feel the warmth of his body through his sweatpants. "But you know what?" he continued, his breath hot against my skin. "I want more. I want all of you." His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel myself melting against him.
I wanted to tell him that I couldn't give him any more, that I was already giving too much. But the truth was, I didn't want to. I wanted to be his, even if it meant losing myself in the process. So instead, I closed my eyes and let him take whatever he wanted from me.
His lips found mine, soft and gentle at first, before growing more demanding. His hands roamed over my body, touching me everywhere as if he needed to feel every inch of me. The bed creaked beneath us as he pulled me on top of him, never breaking the kiss as he guided me down, his hips rising to meet me.
"H-heeseung I can't do this anymore." I said as tears filled my eyes. The truth was I wanted to be loved, and he was the only one who could give me that. But I couldn't keep giving him pieces of myself. I had to stop.
His hands stilled on my body, and he pulled back to look at me, confusion and hurt flitting across his features. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "You don't want this?"
I took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain. "No."
He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Okay" he said as he let me go, sitting up and rubbing his neck. "I understand." There was a note of finality in his voice that made my heart ache. "I'll leave you alone."
--
It had been a few weeks since I had seen him. We hadn't spoken or texted each other since that night in his room. I had tried to forget about him, to move on, but it was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, felt his touch. I knew I had been stupid to expect anything more from him, but the hope had been there, and now it was gone.
I'd seen him at college really often but anytime I'd try to look in his eyes, he'd turn away. It was as if he was ashamed of something. I knew I shouldn't have expected more from him, but it was hard not to. I missed the way he used to look at me, like I was the only one in the room. I missed the way he would touch me, like he truly wanted me. I missed him.
One day while walking to class, I feel someone bump into me. I turn around, to see who it was. It's this guy from my English class, Jake. He's always been nice to me, and I've always wondered what he looks like under that beanie. He smiles at me and says he's sorry, then asks if I'm okay.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, looking him in the eyes. "Thanks for asking."
He smiles back at me, and there's something different about it this time. It's warmer, more genuine. Maybe it's just me, but I get the feeling that he's been watching me too. "You're looking good today," he says, glancing down at my outfit. "That color really suits you." His words make me feel self-conscious, but in a good way.
"Thanks," I reply, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up my neck. "I think you look pretty good yourself." I can't help but notice that he's dressed a bit differently today. His usual plaid shirt is gone, replaced by a button-down that shows off his broad shoulders. He looks...dapper, maybe? It's a strange word to think about him, but it fits.
He seems to notice me looking and grins. "Thanks, I was going for a different look today. You like it?" His confidence is endearing, and I can't help but smile back.
I caught Heeseung glaring at us like..... Like he was jealous. I couldn't help but feel something in my chest as I watched him watch them. He had been so possessive of me, even though I'd never been his. The way he would get angry when another guy would talk to me, the way he would insist that I was his and his alone. It was like living with a possessive, jealous lover. But I couldn't deny the fact that there was something about him that drew me in. Something that made me want him despite... everything.
As the days went by, I became really good friends with Jake although I knew he liked me, it was too obvious please. He was always there for me, making me laugh, making me feel wanted. I knew he was just as lonely as I was. He never made me feel pressured or uncomfortable. He was just...perfect. But for some reason I could never forget about Heeseung, the way he used to make me feel, the way he made me want to be with him. It was like an addiction I couldn't shake off.
---
One night, after a particularly bad day, I found myself in the library, studying for an exam. I didn't even know why I was here, as I had already finished my work, but I just couldn't bring myself to go back to my empty dorm room. I was just about to leave when I hear a familiar voice calling my name.
It's Heeseung.
He looks different than I remember him. His hair is longer and messier, falling over his eyes in the most endearing way. He's wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but he's not glowing like he usually is. I can't help but feel a mix of emotions as I look at him. Pain, regret, and...jealousy.
"Hey" he says, his voice rough and husky. "I've been meaning to talk to you." I want to run, to avoid this conversation, but something in his voice makes me stay. He walks over to me and takes a seat across from me at the table. "I've been a real jerk to you and I'm sorry." His apology catches me off guard. "I've been so wrapped up in my own head that I've been treating you like crap."
Heeseung looks at me, his eyes searching mine. "I've been thinking a lot about us lately, and I realize that I never gave us a chance. I was so convinced that there was nothing between us." He hesitates for a moment, swallowing hard. "But I was wrong. You deserve better than that. You deserve to be with someone who really sees you, who really wants you for you."
I can feel the weight of his words pressing down on my chest. A part of me wants to believe him, wants to take him back and forget about everything that happened between us. But another part of me is afraid. Afraid that he'll hurt me again, afraid that he'll push me away again and leave me again.
"I'm sorry, and that I want you to be happy. I want you to be with someone who deserves you." He pauses, looking at me intensely. "And I hope that person is Jake. He's a good guy, and he really cares about you."
As Heeseung walks away, tears fell out of my eyes as i sobbed. I still loved Heeseung, and I know I could never forget him, nor did I want to. I wanted to run out, hug him and tell him that I missed him, but I knew it was too late. He had finally let me go. "This is what you wanted Yn" I said to myself in between my cries.
The next day at uni, I didn't know how to act around him. Part of me wanted to tell him that I still loved him, but the other part knew that it was better this way. We didn't talk much that day, but we didn't avoid each other either. It was almost as if we were both scared to face what had happened between us.
--
After class, I decided to go to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. As I'm sitting there, lost in my thoughts, I feel a presence beside me. I look up and it's Jake.
"Hey, you okay?" he asks, concern written all over his face.
I force a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a lot on my mind."
He nods, understandingly. "Want to talk about it?"
I shake my head, not really wanting to get into it. "It's just... stuff." I take a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain how I feel. "Heeseung and I had this thing, you know? We were really close, but then things changed. I don't know how to explain it."
Jake nods, his expression sympathetic. "I think I understand what you're going through. It's hard when feelings change, especially when you're so close to someone." He pauses, considering his next words carefully. "But you know, maybe it's not a bad thing. Maybe it means that there's someone else out there who's better for you."
I can't help but feel a tiny bit of hope at his words. It's true that I've been so focused on Heeseung that I haven't really considered anyone else. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that Jake has always been there for me. He's always been supportive and kind, and he makes me feel good about myself. But I knew I could never return his feelings to him.
"Thanks, Jake," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I would've done without you."
He smiles at me, his brown eyes warm. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just here for you, you know? Whatever you need." He hesitates for a moment, then reaches out to take my hand. His fingers intertwine with mine, sending a shiver down my spine. "I've always been here for you, Yn. And I'll always be here for you, okay?"
"Thanks, Jake. I appreciate that more than you know." But just then I found Heeseung looking at us, he smiled but.... he looked sad and guilty. I looked away, not wanting to hurt Jake's feelings. But at the same time I wanted to be true to myself, cause I knew I wasn't over Heeseung.
----
Hours pass by in a blur, and before I know it, it's time to go home. As I gather my things, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions. On one hand, I'm happy that Jake is there for me, but on the other hand, there's a huge part of me that misses Heeseung. I wish things could be different, but I know they can't.
As I was leaving, Jake walks me to my car. The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It's beautiful, yet somehow it only serves as a reminder of how my world feels like it's falling apart.
"Hey, you wanna hang out sometime?" Jake asks, his voice soft. "Maybe we could go see a movie or grab dinner or something?"
"Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it but...." I trail off, unable to meet his eyes. "Look, I know you like me but I- I'm sorry Jake." I can't do this to him. I can't lead him on while I'm still in love with someone else.
He nods, understandingly. "I get it. You don't have to apologize. I'm just here if you ever want to talk or hang out or whatever." He smiles at me, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes.
"Jake, you deserve someone better. Someone who actually loves you. Please forgive me." I say, biting my bottom lip.
He takes a step closer, cupping my face with his hands. "Yn, I don't care if you love me or not. I just want to be your friend. And if that's all I ever am to you, then that's okay. I'll be here, waiting for you, whenever you need me." His eyes search mine, trying to convey the depth of his feelings. He tried to smile but the sadness was evident in his eyes. "I hope things work out between you and.... Heeseung"
I smile at him, feeling a twinge of guilt for leading him on. "Thanks, Jake. You really are a great friend. I'm sorry for putting you through this." I lean in and hug him, grateful for his understanding and support.
As I pull away from the hug, I can't help but wonder if things will ever be the same between us.
Jake steps back, nodding toward my car. "Well, I should let you go. Take it easy tonight, okay?" He gives me a small wave as I climb into my car and start the engine. I wave back, watching as he turns and walks away.
The drive home is a blur. My mind is spinning with thoughts of Jake and Heeseung. I can't help but feel guilty for leading Jake on, even if he is my friend. And as for Heeseung, I don't know what to think. I still love him, but I can't deny that seeing Jake there tonight made me feel something too.
When I finally pull into my driveway, I'm exhausted both physically and emotionally. I climb out of my car, my muscles aching from the day's practice. The air is cool, the sky dark. The familiar scent of home fills my nose, but it doesn't bring the comfort I'm craving.
As I trudge up the steps to my front door, I can't help but feel like I'm drowning in a sea of confusion and conflicting emotions. I want to talk to Heeseung, to work things out with him.
---
"Fuck everything." i mumbled to myself, sitting on a bench, consumed by alcohol. I'm not even sure how many drinks I've had, but it's way too many. My head spins and my vision blurs. I just want to forget, to feel numb. But it doesn't seem to be working.
I feel a hand pat on my shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. I look up to see Heeseung standing there, looking down at me with a mixture of concern and confusion. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I'm fine." My words come out slurred, and I can tell he doesn't believe me. He kneels down in front of me, his eyes searching mine.
"You're not fine, Y/N. You're drunk. You shouldn't be out here alone." He reaches out and takes my hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Come on, let's get you inside." He pulls me to my feet, and I lean heavily against him, my head spinning.
As we make our way toward the front door, I feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence. He walks me over to the couch and carefully sits me down, making sure I'm stable. Then he disappears into the kitchen, only to return a moment later with a glass of water. "Drink this," he says, handing it to me.
"W-why?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Why are you being so nice to me?" He looks at me with a hurt look.
"Because I care about you, Y/N. I'm sorry if I was always being so selfish, I never cared about your feelings but... ever since I let you go, I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you so much." He sighs, his voice raw with emotion. "I want to be with you, Y/N. I want to work things out between us. I don't want to lose you again. I want to try and work things out. I want to show you how much I've changed and how much I've grown. I want to be the person you deserve, the person you need."
He reaches out and cups my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. "I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will. Please, give me another chance. I promise I won't let you down again." His words echo in my head, washing over me like a warm summer rain. I can feel the weight of my emotions lifting, the fog beginning to clear.
As I look into his eyes, I know that I can't turn away from this feeling anymore. I can't deny the love that I have for him. "I love you too, Heeseung," I whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.
He lets out a shaky breath, his grip on my face tightening just for a moment before he relaxes it again. "Thank you," he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for giving me this chance."
He brought his face near to mine, his lips brushing against mine so softly it sent a shiver down my spine. Our kiss was gentle at first, but it quickly deepened as we both surrendered to the overwhelming desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. His hands moved through my hair, cupping my head as he angled his mouth to fit perfectly with mine. I felt the heat from his body, the strength in his arms, and it all made me feel safe and protected.
I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my body against his, and moaned into his mouth as he explored every inch of it. He made a low growl deep in his throat, a sound that sent a thrill through me, and he began to kiss me more urgently. I could feel his heart pounding against my chest as our passion rose, and it made me want him even more.
As we continued to kiss, his hands wandered lower, moving over my hips and then up my sides, cupping my breasts through my shirt. I arched into his touch, moaning into his mouth, and he responded by pulling my shirt over my head in one swift motion. His lips found my bare skin, sucking and nipping at my sensitive flesh as he moved lower, kissing a trail down my neck and collarbone. I gasped and shivered under his touch, my fingers tangling in his hair.
He pulled back, looking at me with lust-filled eyes. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice raspy with desire. Then, with a swift movement, he swept me up into his arms and carried me over to the bedroom. The room spun as he lay me down on the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress. His hands moved to the hem of my shorts, tugging them off in a single fluid motion.
He leaned down, his lips finding my center, and I cried out, arching my back off the bed. He teased me with his tongue, circling and probing until I was writhing beneath him. "Heeseung," I moaned, my voice barely audible. He smiled against my skin, his hand moving between my legs to find my clit. With his expert fingers, he began to stroke me, in time with his tongue, and I felt my orgasm building, growing closer with each passing second.
He straightened up, looking down at me, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. And then he leaned down, his lips finding mine once more as my orgasm crashed over me in a wave of pure pleasure. Our tongues tangled together, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm as we came together in this moment, this beautiful, intimate exchange of love and desire.
As the intensity of our kiss began to subside, Heeseung pulled back, gazing down at me with an expression of awe and wonder. His hands moved to my hips, gently spreading my legs, and then lower, cupping my bottom. He kissed me again, this time slower and more tender, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, teasing dance.
I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against my fingertips. "You feel so good," I murmured, arching into him as he continued to kiss me. His response was to nip at my bottom lip, making me gasp, before moving his lips back to mine.
His touch was everywhere, possessive and gentle all at once. His fingers traced along my collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin beneath my breasts, and lower still, until they found the dampness between my legs. He circled my clit, making me shiver with anticipation, and then he pushed two fingers inside me, moving in a slow, steady rhythm.
I arched into his touch, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt the familiar tightness building within me. He kissed me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine, and it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The world outside this bedroom faded away, replaced by the intense sensation of his skin against mine, the smell of him filling my nose, and the feel of him moving inside me.
He continued to thrust slowly, his rhythm matching the pace of our breath, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I whimpered into his mouth, my hips moving in time with his, urging him on. He moaned into the crook of my neck, his body trembling against mine as he neared his release.
He pulled back slightly, looking down at me with eyes that were dark with desire. "I want to feel you around me," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His fingers left my body, moving lower to spread my folds open, revealing my wetness. Then he positioned himself at my entrance, guiding himself back inside.
As he sank deeper, I gasped, arching my back off the bed. He was so big, so full, and it felt incredible to have him inside me again. He began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm that matched the beat of my heart. His skin was hot against mine, his muscles tense as he fought to control his movements.
He brushed his lips against my neck, his teeth scraping gently over the sensitive skin. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "It feels incredible." He pulled back slightly, then thrust forward again, burying himself deeper still. His movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built within him.
I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt myself begin to lose control. Heat pooled low in my belly, spreading through my body in a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me. "Heeseung," I moaned, my voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. "I'm close."
He growled, his movements becoming more urgent as he felt me begin to tighten around him. His hips slammed against mine in a rhythm that was as brutal as it was beautiful. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with mine as he drove into me over and over again.
The sensation of being so completely filled by him was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It felt like we were one, our bodies in perfect harmony, moving together as if we'd been practicing this dance our entire lives. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks that would no doubt linger long after we'd parted, a reminder of this moment, this connection.
His movements grew more urgent as he neared his release, his hips slamming into mine with an intensity that left me gasping for air. The pleasure built within me, tightening my core, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, my body trembling with the effort to hold on to this feeling, to make it last just a moment longer.
He moaned into my neck, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers as he came, his hips bucking wildly against mine. I felt the hot spurts of his release deep inside me, and with a cry of pleasure that seemed to echo through the room, I followed him over the edge.
My body convulsed around him, my inner muscles squeezing tightly as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over me. I arched my back off the bed, feeling the familiar tightness in my core as my orgasm peaked and then began to slowly subside. He remained inside me, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to regain control.
His skin was slick with sweat, and mine felt sticky where we were pressed together. He withdrew carefully from my body, lowering himself to lie beside me. His lips brushed against my neck, leaving a trail of tiny, hot kisses as he traced the line of my collarbone with his fingertips. "That was incredible," he murmured, his voice still shaky from the intensity of our lovemaking. "I can't believe how good that felt."
I ran my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, feeling the softness of it against my palm. "Neither can I," I whispered, looking up at him.
He smiled down at me, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I think," he said, his voice still rough with emotion, "I think I could stay like this with you forever." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
We fell asleep in each other's arms, tangled together like two bodies meant to fit perfectly. The sheets were kicked off, revealing our entwined limbs and the line of his muscular back. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear. The room was dim, the sunlight filtering through the curtains in a soft, golden glow
--
For the first time in a while I'd felt so good. It felt like everything was perfect now.
As the days went by, we settled into a comfortable routine. Waking up together, making breakfast in the small kitchen, and then spending the mornings exploring the city. We would hold hands as we walked, sometimes stopping to kiss in the shadows of an alleyway or nestled against a tree in a park. The warmth of his skin against mine, the softness of his lips on mine, it all felt so right.
One evening, as we sat at the small dining table eating takeout from our favorite Thai restaurant, Heeseung reached across the table and took my hand in his. His touch sent a shiver down my spine. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he began, his voice a little hesitant. "I've been thinking about what we're going to do with our lives now that we've graduated."
I looked up at him, feeling a knot forming in my stomach. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. His hands were shaking as he placed it on the table in front of me. "I've been thinking that maybe we should... maybe we should get married," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's sudden, but every time I look at you, I feel like I'm home. Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
My heart swelled at his words. It was a feeling so foreign, so overwhelmingly beautiful that for a moment I couldn't speak. I reached out, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it gently. "Heeseung, I-" I began, but he cut me off, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I know it's a lot to ask, but it's like we're meant to be together. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I want you to be my wife, my partner, my best friend. I want to grow old with you, and I want to raise a family with you."
His words brought tears to my eyes, and I could feel the warmth of them spilling down my cheeks. I reached out, taking him in my arms, burying my face in his neck. "Of course I'll marry you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I love you too."
He let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around me tightly. "I love you so so much. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."
I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands, and smiled at him through my tears. "Me neither. I love you, too, Heeseung. I would marry you a thousand times over."
He wiped away my tears with his thumbs, as he opened the box, he pulled out a small, elegant ring. The diamond glinted in the light, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion. "Will you spend the rest of your life with me?"
Tears streaming down my face, I nodded, unable to find my voice. I took the ring, slipping it onto the finger he held out, and felt a rush of happiness so intense it threatened to overwhelm me. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, his lips soft and tender against mine. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and hopes and dreams, and I knew in that moment that no matter what challenges or obstacles lay ahead of us, we would face them together.
This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment I had always hoped would come. As I looked into Heeseung's eyes, I could see the love, the devotion, and the promise of a future together. His words, his touch, his presence; they all made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. And now, with his proposal ring glistening on my finger, I knew that this was real, that we were really going to spend the rest of our lives together.
We had faced so many obstacles since we met in college. I couldn't help but remember the old us, if only we had talked about things earlier, if only I told him about my feelings from the start, maybe we wouldn't have struggled so much. But all I could do now was to cherish the moment we were in. It felt like a new beginning, a fresh start. Maybe we were meant to be, I mean getting married after all that happened between us! It's like we fought against all odds just to be here.
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Ok but manipulative obsessive ballet teacher larissa keeping her star student after hours so they can focus on her technique in more ways than one
AND YOU JUST KNOW SHE’LL HAVE HER HANDS ON HER STUDENT AT ALL TIMES
It’s to help your form she says, definitely not just to see how flustered you can get
Private lessons
Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader
A/n: is this becoming a thing? I think it’s becoming a thing. I’m kinda obsessed, could be a little AU for us?👀 also I’d like to note that while I’m not gonna specify age in hopes of inclusivity, reader is around their mid 20’s.
HAH I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna have the ideas and motivation keep writing. Anyways, this is my last draft. Hope you enjoy!!
Warning: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, touching, sexual undertones, little bit of mean Larissa
_______________________________
“I will say this once and only once. At this level none of you should not need me walking you through every little step like the girls from baby ballet!” Larissa spoke loud enough to fill the room, before signaling the pianist to begin playing.
Everyone ran to form a line across the back of the room, you ending up fifth in line for the exercise. Perfect spot. Only four in front to watch, and be done quickly.
“However you’d like to start, give me four pique turns to the center, four changing fouettés, pas de bourree and close with a triple.”
One by one each student went. Some being sent back to start from the beginning if they messed up, some going without comment, very rarely did she praise anyone.
Your turn came, you started in a simple fifth position, spotting towards the diagonal which just so happened to be exactly where Larissa was standing. You had no trouble keeping your eyes on her.
“Thank you!” She said in a very clearly annoyed tone. “Finally someone who knows how to spot correctly. The rest of you should learn a little from this starting position. Go on, my dear. I apologize for interrupting your start.” You gave a short nod and began your sequence. Everything was going perfectly until the final part, where you failed to complete the third turn, but saved it by landing on fifth.
You quickly got up and were about to scurry back to the beginning but Larissa spoke up. “No need. You were perfect till the very end and at least saved it. Back of the line.”
You smiled, Larissa smiled back, giving you- a wink? Oh you must have been seeing things. She wouldn’t. What an odd thing it would be for her to do. Regardless, you nodded, looking down as you walked past her only for her to stop you in your tracks and tilt your chin up with her pointer finger. “A ballerina walks proudly. She floats with a straight back and gentle steps. Chin up, my dear.”
Surely she could see the dark red blush covering your cheeks, she nodded you off to continue walking, a smile still on her lips.
When she turned to continue the class, her smile fell, and the strict teacher was back.
When everyone was done with diagonal, she called back to center. “That will be all for today. Applaud yourself for the effort and I will see you all tomorrow.” She locked eyes with you as she spoke, before turning to talk to the pianist while everyone packed up and left.
“You. Stay back, my dear.” A few girls looked back, but she was very clearly talking to you. Her direct tone made it seem like you were in trouble, making your heart race.
“O-okay. Should I keep my pointes on?” You spoke as you stopped in the middle of untying the ribbon. “Yes, please do.”
“Is something wrong, ma’am?” You asked softly as you noticed her staring, watching you. She shook her head with a smile. “Nothing at all, darling. You’re a great student, I’d just like to give you a few pointers.”
By the time you finished tying your ribbons back on securely, and stood, walking over to her, everyone else was already gone, even the pianist. And Larissa had closed the door with the last one out.
“I’ll start with how you failed that triple turn. It shouldn’t be much of a difficult thing for someone of your level…” she mutters.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” You said, lowering your head.
Larissa stepped in front of you, so close you could practically feel her breathing as she once again tilted your chin up. “What did I say about ballerinas, sweetheart.”
You blushed at the closeness, this woman was beyond beautiful, and talented. Having her this up close felt like an honor. You felt so small next to her. “They walk proudly.” You answered.
“Good girl. So you do listen.” She stepped back and you immediately missed her presence so close to yours. “Fortunately for you, I do know what happened.”
She rounded you. “Get into fourth, give me a clean double.” You did as told, a clean double pirouette, finishing back in fourth position.
“Good. Now give me a triple, this time focus on what you’re feeling.” Again, you did as told and just like last time fell on the last turn.
“Do you see the problem?” “Yes- I think so.” She nods. “Tell me.”
“My heel is on the floor by the time I’m in the third turn.” She looked at you proudly for a moment. “Very good. You’re dropping your heel. When you do a double it’s no issue because you’re still high on pointe. But you’re turning in demi at the third. No dancer of mine turns in demi at this level. That’s for the little girls. Tell me miss, are you a little girl?”
“I- well- no of course not.” She hummed, bringing a chair in front of the mirror, centered in the room. She pointed at you to move to the center as well as she sat down, crossing her gorgeously long legs.
Any dancer would die for those. You’re sure she was the envy of the whole school back when she was just a student. “You’re acting like it. You turn like it.” Her voice brought you back in the moment.
“Anyone can do a simple turn. I’m sure the damn pianist could come do one for us. Anyone can do a double too. Any one of the juniors at this establishment could. You’re failing, at this age and this level. I mean you can do it, but you don’t do it well.”
“I can. I promise you I can. I’ve done it before!” You rushed to prove yourself to her. She was the last person on earth you wanted to disappoint.
“Well of course you have. You wouldn’t be in this level if you couldn’t pull off a simple triple turn. So what is it? Are you finding the easy way? Is this you being lazy, in my class, miss?”
You wanted to cry at just the idea of disappointing her.. and this was how she saw you? Some lazy brat in an advanced class while she was God herself to you? That wouldn’t do.
“I’ll help you, my girl. You dance beautifully, you move and project emotions the way no other can. But you’re falling at the basics. All the talent and emotion in the world won’t save you if you can’t pull off a good turn. Try to think of any important role to dance which doesn’t turn.”
“There’s not many..” you said quietly. You wanted to bring your head down again, truly, you felt shameful. You could do it, both of you knew that. But you weren’t, why is that? Larissa wondered.
“Not any, my dear.” She sighed, walking behind you. “I want you to try for four turns with me here. I will spin and support you. Just keep that heel up.” You nodded, getting into fourth, and doing a plié before starting your turns.
Larissa’s hands moved quickly around your waist, guiding you through every turn and stopping at the four count. “You’re very capable. You can spot well, you could turn ten times with me here, I bet. But I trust you know that there won’t always be a pas de deux in every show or every dance. There won’t always be somebody to help you turn.”
“Yes I know, ma’am.” She smiled. “Of course you do. You’re a smart girl, my dear.”
“You trust that I won’t let you fall, yet you’re not trusting yourself.” She said, squeezing your hips lightly as she kept her hands in place. “You have the strength to stay up, no doubt. Trusting yourself is just as important.”
“Let’s try to balance on pasé for a few, hm? Get your body comfortable with staying up for a longer time.” She stepped back.
Her eyes were racking over your body. You could feel it, it only made your blush grow deeper. “Slowly. Take your foot from the ground up to your ankle first.” You moved as she spoke, she seemed to approve of that.
“Up your calf… and above your knee. Do not rest it, now hold.” You were perfectly still once she told you to hold position, settling all the shaking in an instant.
“Your breathing cannot interrupt you. I want it to look like you’re not even breathing. Keep that rib cage closed tightly and focus. Imagine there is a string going straight through the center of your body, pulling you up toward the ceiling.”
You breathed slowly, barely. Not even thinking about uttering a word at this moment. “Turning is much easier than balancing. You have more momentum to stay up, and as long as you don’t move and exaggerated amount you can get away with not being perfectly in center with your body. Though you should be.”
You felt the warmth of her hands again. You could see her blurry in the mirror, trying to keep your face straight. You stared right into your own eyes.
Her hands were under your breasts for a moment, pressing down on your rib cage gently. “Tightly closed. Very good, my darling.. very good.” She whispered.
Larissa’s hands caressed your thighs before reaching your knee, spreading your leg a little more open. “I should be able to see you in one line if I were to look at you from the side. Keep your knee aligned with your shoulder.” She spoke softly, having no need for loud words as she was practically pressed up against you.
Your balance shook as she adjusted you, but she didn’t let you fall. Instead helping you find your balance once more before moving on. “You’re focusing too much on me. I’m not even here. Now rest.”
You sighed in relief as she gave that command, letting your pointe trail down your leg the same way it trailed up, until you reached fifth position and got off pointe, allowing yourself to rest.
“That was very good.. I would’ve been a little disappointed had you not done that. Half the girls would rush, out of sheer desperation but you.. you did that stunningly. A very good girl, you are.”
“Thank you, ma’am.. I’ll be honest, I do my best to impress you…” Larissa quirked her brow. “Is that right.. Well, lovely girl, you do a good job at it. Let’s get those turns right and I’ll be even more impressed, proud, even.” Larissa hummed as she traced down your spine with her long fingers, and then reached your skirt.
Shamelessly, she began untying it, removing the garment from your body and throwing it next to her chair. “That thing only makes seeing the things I need to see harder.” You nodded in agreement, feeling your skin heat up as she held your hips for a few moments much longer than necessary.
“We will work on your left side another time. For now I want to focus on getting that left heel to stay up.” She stepped back, moving around you to be in front now. “Give me a triple pirouette.”
You took a deep breath in, breathing out slowly. You moved into fourth position, doing a deep plié before you started.
This time, you stayed up longer, but let your heel fall by the end. Larissa sighed. “Again.”
It went on for some time. Each time you would get closer to doing it right, finally. “Again.”
“Let’s try something. Think about doing four. Set your mind, we’re doing four turns, but remember you’re closing, cleanly, on the third.” You nodded, feeling anxious about how many tries this has already taken. No doubt you felt Larissa was tired of this.
With the thought cemented on your mind, you went for four. Just keep the heel up for four.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three, close it!” You landed it right as she finished speaking, closing on a tight fifth position, your arms rounded and lowered around your bellybutton.
“Absolutely perfect. You did perfect, my dear. That was the cleanest I’ve ever seen you turn.”
“Why’d you count?” You said in a whiny tone and Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You all hate it when I count. But it helped you, didn’t it? I’m just guiding you, my beautiful girl.”
You smiled, “yeah it did help..”
“Come, sweet girl.” With hurting legs you walked to her, standing in front of her with little idea of what exactly to do. But she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards herself, wrapping you in a soft hug.
It was certainly an odd thing to do, but her warmth was something you seeked.. and God, was being in her arms delightful.
She rubbed your sides gently, caressing over your soft leotard. “You did very well, my star. I want to see this progress shown in the next class, yes?” You nodded, nuzzling yourself against her neck without even thinking about it. And breathing in.. she smelled expensive, a little woody but also floral. You wanted to bathe in whatever perfume it was she wore.
“Very good, my girl. It’s time for you to get home.” You almost whined as you pulled away from her, and Larissa hushed you. “Change out of your pointes, and don’t forget your skirt. I have to close up here soon.”
You nodded, going over to your bag and quickly changing into your street shoes and some shorts. “Um, thank you, ma’am. For helping me and everything.”
“It’s a pleasure to help such a delightful student like you, always.” You blushed, waving a quick goodbye before practically skipping out of the room.
Larissa smiled as she saw it written clear across your face, she had you wrapped around her little finger. What a good girl you truly were.
#larissa weems#wednesday larissa weems#larissa weems x f!reader#gwendoline christie#larissa wednesday#larissa weems wednesday#principal larissa weems#larissa weems x reader#larissa
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Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader
PART 2 of The Vault
See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.
Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese
Word Count: 4.3k
A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!
You are not made for white-veil occasions.
While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.
When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you.
You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc.
She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.
You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on.
You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.
Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips.
Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders.
She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it.
“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly.
“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”
With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?”
Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”
You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing.
When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with.
Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you.
Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—
“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen.
Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim.
He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself.
Fuck. Me.
You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right.
“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning.
He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.
Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.
Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”
“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.
His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.
This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin.
You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.
And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.
Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”
“Here in New York?”
“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”
“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”
His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.
Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set.
“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”
“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts.
“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”
She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”
There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.
To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.
“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.
“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.
His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.
Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”
Words elude you.
“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him.
You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”
That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?
Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.
Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”
A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.
Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her.
“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”
“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.
You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.
“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath.
“Shots have been fired,” he says.
“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”
“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”
Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.
“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”
This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.
He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”
He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.
Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.
Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants.
An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.
You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company.
Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?
You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic.
He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.
After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin.
At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.
“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.
You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”
“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, that’s why I asked.”
Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”
You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”
“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”
“More like life in general.”
“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”
A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.
“And you’re not?”
He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for.
“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper.
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.
Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.”
The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—
He did.
He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.
You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.
“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.
He frowns. “Do what?”
“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”
A playful smirk plays on his lips.
“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.
You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.
“That’s also been known to happen.”
“What, being cheeky with—”
“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.
You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”
“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”
With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say.
Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”
“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”
“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”
“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”
“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.
The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”
“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.
The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt.
Fuck this.
“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”
One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know.
Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway.
His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you.
His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?”
You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features.
Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.
You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss.
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”
He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.
Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him.
He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.
You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him.
You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care.
Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.
“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.
He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth.
His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.
“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.
The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds.
You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop.
His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.
“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”
You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say.
He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”
“Yes. Fuck.”
“Regret coming home with me?”
“Absolutely not.”
That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”
And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise.
Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama
#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x f!reader#daredevil#matt murdock x you#matt murdock smut#matt murdock fluff#daredevil x reader#reader insert#lizzi’s vault#charlie cox
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i just read "intrinsic warmth" and it was sooo good ( YOU AHVE AMAZING TASTE). pls give us more gojo recs ao3 or tumblr.
gojo + ao3:
UPDATED
+ intrinsic warmth: my favourite fic of all time. like genuinely. insane writing, fucking amazing in every sense of the term. 2nd time recommending this! reader's character is so sick BUT updates real slow (which isnt a bad thing!! good things take time!!) so i wouldn't read if you aren't patient // 90k words, 13 chapters, incomplete
+ ripverse: not really a series, more like a compilation of fics! it's got a lot of angst and the one titled 'interlude' contains smut i think so beware, and it's also a lovetriangle/poly-but-geto-goes-crazy-so-not-poly moment // 55k words, 8 pieces
+ the witches' brew: super cute fluff! reader owns a cafe, gojo is a regular, it's all around adorable // 2 chapters, 11k words, completed
+ all that is solid melts into air: arranged marriage trope! i haven't read but @/aanobrain loves this one // 7k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ cake batter: established relationship w/ dad!gojo & megumi <33 not much to say, just short n sweet, i am such a sucker for dad gojo so its no surprise there's one of these on the list.. // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ best of luck: initial concept is really unique!! confessions, slight angst, takes place at the beginning/middle-ish of s1 i think? so cute loved this <;3 // 5k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ afternoon tea(se): gojo torturing megumi. classic !! so so cute love the banter // 1.7k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ my apologies, gordon ramsay: god i hate this man. jk. reader is a teacher and a functional human being; gojo is not. loved! // 8k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ a name known only to paper: platonic, angst- beautifully written, such a unique idea. reader is gojo's older sibling. // 3k words, 1 chapter, complete
gojo + tumblr:
+ untitled by @/augustinewrites: actually idk if there's a title and if i just can't find it but... this is so so cute love me a lil drunkass gojo hes so cute and the author writes him so well i am a huge fan LMFAO just check out their whole masterlist if u havent alr!!
+ i could fall asleep or stare in your eyes (you're right by my side) by @/seoafin: hurt/comfort !!! lovely, this author's writing style is so so good i eat this shit UPP
+ growing pains by @/seoafin: another lovely work by this author!! im pretty sure they also wrote ripverse (on the ao3 part) as well? parental gojo again!
+ close combat by @aanobrain: honestly it's taking everything in me to not link all of art's gojo fics so i'm limiting myself to my fav 3, and this is one: love the reader's personality, so so much and NO im not biased bc i helped write it....
+ family photo by @aanobrain: fifteen THOUSAND words of pure mastery. the motifs, techniques, all make an intricate storyline even better- wonderful characterisation and i cannot express enough how amazing this is
+ 10:15 AM by @aanobrain: short n silly. this one makes me giggle. i requested it in return for an aki fic i wrote which is how u know its good. ok bye done w aanobrain art now i dont even know them who is this
+ quiet game drabble by @/moonbeamwritings: so so cute looooove silent treatment fics bc theyre always so silly n this is characterised so well !!
+ no good, very bad date by @sixosix: again i am fighting my demons to not rec all of six's gojo fics........ THIS ONE IS MY FAV THO!!! so so fluffy so sooo fluffy i thrw up in my mouth (in a good way)
+ fan letters by @sixosix: FLUSTERED GOJO............. i was hissing and squirming and [REDACTED] wjen i read this for the first time. short n so so sweet
+ formation b! by @earthtooz: oh god another place where i want to give u the whole masterlist... go check it out if u havent alr but this is a classic i LOOOVE my sillies !! teacher gojo based on that one ending cutscene w megumi its so so sweet
+ untitled by @earthtooz: ok again idk if there is a title i am finding all of these fics bc theyre saved in my drafts but.... THIS IS SO CUTE!! if i were to give it a name i'd call it 'gojo being awhore but only for u'
+ untitled by @/od4saku: hmmmmmmmmm this is cute!!!!! kinda a character study i liked it ;)
okay so... this is as far as ima go because i have been staring at this man's face and name for way longer than is probably healthy!! but if u want more recs i'm sure i can find some because i'm actually insane!! hope i could help !
#gojo satoru x reader#SORRY IM GETTING TO THIS SO LATE </3 im here now!!!#first 4 are compiled from previous posts#at some point i think ill make a masterpost w a bunch of my favs on ao3#mitz recs#this is only the tip of the iceburg tbh#iceberg#however tf u spell that!
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