#and for real besides me talking about myself the advice is yeah go to a fun shakespeare production
Text
love my own like theatrical relationship to shakespeare which is a) being so slow to realize like "oh, i've loved theatre? everyone doesn't just feel this way & go 'of course acting onstage would fucking kick ass' & adore rehearsals and hanging around backstage and in greenrooms and changing and performing & etc?' never really occurred to me" and b) my response to most encounters w/shakespeare being "wha" when it comes to anything granular yet the relevance still in the spirit of things lol
namely one prominent example being i was an on campus college student where said campus has a shakespearean theater literally three blocks away, and we had like a freshmen orientation weekly class there doing shit with actors and checking out the theater, not to mention like punchcards to see four shows free (to write up about afterwards but yeah sure whatever) and this wherein also you always got student discount tickets And there were pwyw performances....kicked ass. i went there for shows so many times. i have never fucking known what tf is going on in any of the like dozen shows i saw there when a) audio processing can be tricky enough for real life modern vernacular parsing and b) sure am not used to ye old very stylized language nor any other qualities of shakespearean material so lots of times when i finally started to kind of acclimate to the language it would be like "oh wait that was the conclusion? ok. hoorayyyyy" like also c) You Have A Great Time Seeing Shakespeare Productions Anyways like again i loved going anytime. it's Theatrical and if people are just putting their damn backs into delivering and performing the material it's An Experience even if you're really not following lmfao. and i suppose one can read the text / familiarize oneself beforehand
also like my first and really one of my only like regular theatre performing experiences was my literature class in fourth grade doing a few scenes from julius caesar. i was so hype for getting cassius like one of the most prominent roles? a guy? an antagonist if you're caesar or dante??? oh Fuck yes. b/c of technical difficulties we got to perform it twice in a row when we did a field trip to some other school to perform our respective [scenes from various shakespeare plays] altogether. even back then i was way into it and cared about stuff like "we have like no Effects to make it that dramatic when we kill caesar. or like, non silent. bit awkward" and "also i like, don't know how to act and am just winging it. and of course, i'm also like 9" like in theory i do like to know How to do something vs trying to make it up myself. somewhat lol. a balance, who can argue w/that
beyond that there's also lots of things i just didn't quite realize "counted" lmfao like, when you're a theatre gay with a parent req'ing you go to church every week but you have a good time being in the choir....i was sure on those tenor harmonies & singing loud. and going relatively often to various live theatrical events, having an engaging enough time there, but also would've assumed anyone would be into it And that that's not really the same as actually being in them, of course. but that most of my firsthand experience was just sticking w/ballet for like a decade, and kind of live theatrical performance adjacency there. don't say shit, for years was effectively just like, an ensemble for the occasional performances, but even then it's like hoorayyy i Love rehearsing and being onstage and backstage and dealing w/costumes and coordination behind the scenes and shit. and eventually being like, a distinct individual character in shows, so despite again nobody saying shit you're still somewhat interpreting and doing whatever character work while also enjoying the bennies of [it's dance, so also it's choreographed]....even more clear like oh i love backstage and rehearsing and behind the scenes and onstage and putting together stage character makeup, and i don't mind tackling technical difficulties, and etc etc. didn't even necessarily have the reference like, idk, wouldn't / doesn't everyone feel similarly. classic ye old memory of like being idfk 7 or some shit simply getting to walk with classmates behind a backdrop to the opposite wing of a stage, and loving that lmao. combines a love for [backstage] and [secret passages] type deal lol, big fan of these elements
also in 7th grade doing a theatre/drama class for a few months and we couldn't really get like all this in depth extensive stuff b/c you know, intro course for like 8 weeks for rando middle schoolers, but idk it was just illustrative lmao like after julius caesar, us slapping together some kind of script and my getting to be this fun little theatrical(tm) antagonist guy again? feedback was "what was supposed to be happening" but could've stood to have learned that the enthusiasm and affinity i felt for acting onstage was perhaps indicative of enthusiasm and affinity for acting onstage rather than just, idk, the exact kind of baseline experience any & everyone would have lol. not that i would've necessarily had the chance to really do anything with that knowledge, but even now, ofc i don't particularly anticipate getting to use it, but it's great having that knowledge like ohhh i see. the entire time i've been huge into doing theatre with all these kind of adjacent & gently overlapping brushes with it. gotcha
#an issue with Figuring Out What I Like or Trying New Things; a) having to be driven everywhere#b) just not safe to be open with ''this is something i like doing''#c) things being worse for like [i like doing this performance i don't like that parents are in the audience / involved]#didn't try out for anything in middle school b/c a) nervous. no experience; it's middle school. i don't have a great time w/Peers.#b) i'd have to let parents know i was doing that / they would then be involved; & see it....puts a real damper on things#didn't try out for anything in college b/c by then it's like. i Really have no experience lmao even if i could do this myself#kind of only deterred by my same age roommate being A Theatre Person with that prior experience lol....#but then Shakespeare Theater Company Proximity & Everyone Getting Introduced Via That Class / another kind of tangential theatre experience#hell yes....thank you for all that you did. dunno what's going on in there but you truly have a great time#even just Readings are fun but again people Gotta put their back into it or it does become like [zzz]#anyways and in this day and age....would still like to have actual acting instruction. all an abstract idea. but i for sure Like To Know.#the Ideas / Knowledge of oneself & like ''oh that's smthing i super like actually'' or what all i'd even theoretically like to do / have...#value in such things. i love to Know i think it would be cool to have like a buttonsy digital / calculator type wristwatch too. e.g.#and for real besides me talking about myself the advice is yeah go to a fun shakespeare production#''knowing what the hell is actually going on'' is Not a priority / requirement. it'll be an enjoyable experience still#oh and i did have an achievement in having A Fan once lol. when i started getting standalone roles vs [class ensemble in the back] at one#point i got to have a cats (jellicle) inspired like purple sparkly arms/legwarmered elaborate facemakeupped role; fun in & of itself#but whomsoever came to this little like middle/highschoolers community production included some absolute randos i encountered in the hall#after whatever show where this like 8 yr old kid's dad was like ''she's your (the role) biggest fan can we get a pic''#like Of Course....so i pose with said kid. hell yeah babey i'm An Actor with A Role lol....fr it was fun so#even illuminating to piece together my affinity / comfort for concepts & zones like things Behind The Scenes / hidden or secret / Nighttime#being backstage or behind the backdrop to get to another wing or hanging out in an effective greenroom w/amicable parties & our roles....#oh and that naturally the abstract concept of acting has just always seemed fun. and not like that strange or difficult#someone talking abt being autistic & learning like ''oh having friends Isn't supposed to feel like you have to constantly be performing?''#like yeah same up til recent history lmao like. lot of ways to simply already have a bit of organic training in acting lol#would still want some more actual training though lol like how do you do this shit Actually....got the essentials in fourth grade (be loud)#fr we didn't have mics of course so it was all just up to us to say our lines loud enough. couldn't actually hear other scenes [pensive]
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Max interview with Frank Woestenburg, Formule1 magazine, Dutch GP Special 2023
(translation by me. please don't repost elsewhere.)
Max, do you ever think about the life you lead? You’re 25 years old, a two-time F1 world champion, title number 3 is on its way and one record after another is shattering. You’re living your dream, so to speak. Aren’t you ever afraid that anything that comes your way after F1 won’t give you the same satisfaction, kick or adrenaline?
“It will be different, I’m aware of that but maybe that’s a good thing. There’s always a lot of pressure on you during a race weekend, and that’s year after year. Maybe it’s actually nice to, at some point, just do the things you enjoy doing and be relaxed about it.
A lot of people say I will miss this life and the pressure it brings. My dad says it, too. But personally, I don’t think so. When you’ve done this often and for a long time, you’re done at some point. Not now, of course, but there will come a time when it’s enough. Don’t forget: I started in go-karts when I was four. One day you will start wondering when constantly having to extract the best out of yourself to achieve the highest will end.”
I understand that but it’s become your second nature. You don’t just switch that off.
“True, I don’t know any different. And in other areas I will probably be wanting to get the best out of myself. But when something doesn’t work out later, it’s not a disaster. It’s all a bit more relaxed.”
You’ve been critical of the busy F1 calendar several times, the constant travelling, the downsides of being well-known. At some point…
“…it’s been enough, yeah. I’ve always said 24 race weekends is a lot. It’s not just the races but everything around makes it hard. All the marketing activities, simulator days, personal sponsor obligations. You don’t actually have any free days left.”
So often it really feels like a challenge.
“Yeah, and I talk about it very often with the people around me. Those are all things that play part in the decision on how long you will continue. Of course I’m happy to be in the position to be able to make those decisions for the future myself. The goal was always to become world champion and win races. That’s been achieved. I’ve said it before: anything that comes after that, is a bonus.”
As if you’re not busy enough, recently you’ve also got the Verstappen.com Racing project that you’re investing a lot of time in.
“That too, but that is actually something that gives me energy.”
Can you tell me what the project Verstappen.com Racing entails?
“It’s still in its infancy. Through Verstappen.com Racing we sponsor and support several race activities of people close to me with council and advice. It all started with sim racing with Team Redline. A lot of people still think that sim racing isn’t professional, but it’s very serious and I really spend a lot of hours to get everything right and trying to beat everyone. Besides that, we’re also active in DTM and GTWC Sprint with Thierry Vermeulen and my dad in rallying, but the ultimate goal is to set up a race team. We’ll start in GT3 and then we’ll see where it ends. If it ends…”
“When I do something, I want to do it right. I want to win, with this as well. And it’s about creating a stepping stone from sim racing to GT3. So that you can’t only reach autosport through karting, because that costs a ridiculous amount of money at the moment. Compared to that, sim racing is a lot cheaper. And of course, such a switch is possible. It has happened before, but it’s never really been really successful, for several reasons. I believe that, when you go about everything very professionally, you can build up a beautiful racing career through sim racing.”
How do you envisage the structure? Will Team Redline be called Team Verstappen.com Racing, for example?
“No, not that, but in the end the two will be connected. And not everyone in the sim-team can handle a real race car, but the few guys who I think do have that potential, I want to help along, like with the GT3 team for example. I think GT3 is a nice category, in which you can drive all the appealing endurance races. A junior class for Formula cars doesn’t appeal to me. Formula 3, Formula 2… you don’t get enough driving time while it costs a lot of money. In the GT3 class you drive a lot more races, but there’s a different atmosphere. A bit more relaxed.”
And what are the future ambitions, assuming your own GT3-team is the first step?
“Well, you never know how things will go, but there’s always ambition. It depends on how many good people we will have in the team and how much know-how there is, but it would be nice if we grow to the highest level in endurance racing.”
You once said you wanted to take part in the 24 Hours of Le Mans. Of course you will be doing that in a car of your own team?
“Yeah, that would be awesome wouldn’t it? Who knows.”
When it comes to Verstappen.com Racing, you’re involved in every decision, so the design of the logo as well. The link with Red Bull is very visible in it.
“I think it’s two beautiful brands together. If I can imagine ever driving for a different team in Formula 1? Well, not at the moment, no.”
Do you have a time-frame in mind for the further development of Verstappen.com Racing?
"Absolutely, we’re very busy with that at the moment. The next step is our own GT3-team. Next year is going to be tight, but I want it as soon as possible. A GT3-team in 2025, that should be do-able. With a minimum of two cars then.”
You’re talking about 2025, that’s very soon.
“We’re well under way. We’re passed the planning stage. We’re already in action mode.”
That must be an exciting prospect for you, your own team. But what role do you see for yourself? Team boss? Team manager?
“I don’t see myself as a Christian Horner per sé. But I do want to know and be involved in everything, advise and sometimes be at races physically, if it fits with the schedule. Mostly, it’s important to have the right people in the right places. For myself, I see mostly an advisory role, where I will also be critical.
If I would be more a Christian Horner type of team principal or more a Guenther Steiner type? Haha, I think neither. I think I’m more like my dad. In the past, when I was little, I always said: ‘I’m not like my dad’. But as I’m getting older, I notice more and more how much I am like him. How much energy I put into things to get them just right, how serious I can be about that and how much time I spend on it. That eternal need for perfection I got from him. In the end, those are only good traits, I think. There are a lot of talented people in the world, but there are also a lot of lazy people. The people who settle for second or third best, usually drop out. And it’s the people who hate becoming second or third, who always keep going, who never give up, who will make it.”
Let me guess, it’s the last category of people you will want in your team?
“Of course! That’s already the case with Team Redline. You always want people who work harder than anyone else. You see that at Red Bull too, actually.”
Are you already scouting for the right people?
“We’re looking. Not just me, but my dad as well. It’s nice that I can involve him in this. And he thinks it’s a beautiful project. He now drives rally under the Verstappen.com Racing flag, but it makes sense his role extends beyond that. We’re still working out the details, but a mentor-like part would suit him well and he likes the idea.”
What do you think of your dad having started driving rally racing?
“I think it’s nice. He needs the adrenalin and that’s okay, but rally racing is dangerous, too. He’s had some serious shunts already. But I do like seeing it and he’s very serious about it. It wouldn’t be my thing. Driving across a terrain with a rally car is fun, but those stages driving between trees and houses, no, that’s not my thing. I haven’t sat beside him yet either. I trust my dad with a lot of things, but that prospect is not as appealing.
Speaking of risks and safety: the fatal accident of Dilano van ‘t Hoff at Spa had a big impact on everyone, on you too. These are moments of reflection. When you look at yourself, do you handle risks differently from when you were young?
“I don’t know, but you’re thinking process is different. I know what I was like when I drove Formula 3. There was no fear. I don’t have that now either, but I do think more about the consequences of my actions. What would happen if… Back then, you never thought about that, you drove purely on instinct. I’m not talking about Dilano now, because he got hit by someone else, but generally speaking, as a junior driver you take more wild risks than at a later age.”
The accident got a lot of people thinking. Like, should you as a parent put your kids in a go-kart?
“Those thoughts are logical, but on a bike in Amsterdam your kid can also get run over. Risks are part of life or you put yourself in a body cast and sit at home. But of course you think about it. Me too, yes.
When the news about Dilano came out, I posted a message on social media. A while later, I saw Dilano’s sister had replied: ‘Max, you were his great role model. Thank you for this message.’ That reaction did something to me. Then I immediately think about my own family too for a minute. You think: Shit, if this had happened to me, then they… You really think: Fuck.”
Do you then, for example, talk about the autosport risks at home with your girlfriend Kelly?
“No, not that. She comes from a racing family herself and knows what autosport entails. As far as that is concerned, she’s seen enough of it in her family. After his Formula 1 career in 1992, her dad (Nelson Piquet) was in a serious crash ahead of the Indy 500 and had severe injuries on his feet and legs. The danger is just always there. She knows it, I know it. But you can also slip in the shower and break your neck. Unreal things happen sometimes. So at the track too, unfortunately.”
Back to racing then. One record after another is shattering. In England, Helmut Marko said he’s no longer keeping track of all your records, but also that you say you don’t care about them but that in the meantime you do know most of them by heart. What’s up with that?
“Of course I know where most drivers are and which records there are, but truly, I’m not that preoccupied with it. Records also have to do with having the luck of having a good car for a longer period of time. If I’ve got a good car for seven or eight years, I know many more records will be broken. But in the end, I don’t care about them. I didn’t come to Formula 1 to break records, I started driving Formula 1 to win. The first is just a consequence of the second, usually.”
A record does mean a milestone every time though. That you’ve passed a legend like Ayrton Senna when it comes to Grand Prix victories, surely that does mean something to you?
“Yes, but even that record… These days there are a lot more races than in the past. And like I said, you’re dependant on the material. I deliberately put it into perspective. For me, other things are more important. Like always beating your team mate, for example. That is and will remain the most important thing. And that’s going pretty well, yeah.”
Your successes make you very popular in big parts of the world, with The Netherlands at the top of the list of course, but one country isn’t the same as the other. How well-known are you in Monaco, where you live?
“I do get approached there regularly when I’m outside, usually by tourists. But it’s a lot more relaxed than in The Netherlands. Being out on the streets for two minutes is still possible.”
Do you see yourself, later, after your F1 career, ever moving back to Belgium or The Netherlands, to Maaseik for example?
“No, I’m really enjoying myself in Southern France. Of course, there are certain things I miss. ‘Frites speciaal’ [fries special: Dutch fries with mayonnaise, combined with either ketchup or curry sauce and sprinkled with chopped white onion], the local cuisine, haha. And of course my family and friends. But on the other hand: when I’m done racing, I will have more time anyway for weekends and holidays with friends and other fun things. I’m really looking forward to that free time.”
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Helpless Part 2 xx
"Morning Haze," Nico said the just as he woke up.
"Here we have a true miracle occurrence the Nico di Angelo is awake before 11am is this the real di Angelo or is it really a fake." Hazel said in a teasing voice, it was nice to be back with her.
"Very funny Hazel," Nico said petting her on the head. "Anyway how much longer do I have with you until you go to back to New Rome?"
"I'm leaving today at 10pm, after campfire." She responded hugging Nico. "I'm gonna go get breakfast, cya later bro." Walking out the door, right after that there's a knock on the door. Nico opens it reluctantly and saw Solace outside the door,
"Great you haven't left yet. Can you come back to the infirmary tonight at 5 and do that every Friday for the rest of the month? I was asking Reyna and Annabeth and they said you'd shadow traveled a lot recently which isn't good for you, also-"
"-No underworldly stuff, just because I'm out of the infirmary doesn't mean I'm okay and I have a bunch of deficiencies. Solace I know, you don't have to worry, I'm not too big a fan of passing out myself. Yeah I'll come down at five, I don't see any use coming till the end of the month but you're too stubborn and I do not have the energy to argue with you today." Nico finishes his sentence,
"Okay great, that was surprisingly easy. Bye Nico I'll see you this afternoon." He says smiling as he closes the door behind him, Nico realised that he was smiling and cursed under his breathe in Italian. There is no way he liked that annoying doctor but the only thing he could think about were his bright blue eyes and how they look like the ocean. How his hair was perfectly golden and he was almost glowing in the sunlight, fuck, no, he couldn't do this again. He couldn't like anyone again, that would mean he has to tell people, what if they abandoned him? These are the times he sadly requires advice from Jason Grace.
***
Nico knocked on the door of his cabin hoping he hadn't left yet, he get lucky.
"Hey Grace, can I talk to you?" Nico asked stepping inside, Jason was (aside from Percy and Annabeth) the only one who knew.
"Yeah sure," Jason said calmly, Nico was thankful he still wanted to talk to him considering last time they tried to have this conversation Nico swore he would never talk to him again.
"Well, um.. I feel like I should tell the rest of the seven and Reyna. Percy and Annabeth already know-" Nico starts but is interrupted by Jason pulling him into a hug.
"Oh sorry, I forgot you don't like being touched I'm just proud of you." Jason say's quickly.
"It's fine, I'm trying to get used to human contact. Just I also wanted to tell you, I like this guy...and he's so stubborn and annoying but at the same time I want him to be mine. It's....Will Solace and I just...yeah." Nico finishes, slightly blushing after and rushing the part about Will Solace.
"Nico I'm so proud of you for wanting to tell them, and if any of them react badly I will personally strike them with lightning while simultaneously getting Percy to drown them. But they won't be, these people love and care about you Nico they won't hurt you. As for Will Solace, well I know he's friends with Leo but not much else, I don't really see him much but he's a cool guy. Good luck mate." Jason says keeping his voice stable and calm as always,
"Thank you Jason, I guess I should go and talk to the other five now." Nico says hugging Jason, it was kind of shocking but Jason didn't show his surprise.
"Good luck Nico, I promise it'll go well."
"Wait, um, could you please come with me? I was going to ask Annabeth but-"
"Yeah of course I'll come with you."And with that the ghost king and Superman were off.
***
"Guys umm... can I talk to you?" Nico said walking up to Reyna, Leo, Hazel, Frank and Piper, finding them sitting under a tree.
"Sure di Angelo, what's up?" Leo said hiding his shock that Nico di Angelo was willingly talking to someone who wasn't Hazel, much more with Jason standing beside him. He looked like he was barely breathing so Jason placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering something in his ear. Nico (much to Leo's surprise) smiled and continued, "Well....shit.., Jason I can't." Nico says shaking.
"Breathe di Angelo."
"I fucking can't, what if they-"
"-I promise they won't react badly."
"That's what I thought about- doesn't matter."
"I know it's hard, especially after living in the 1930s for most of your childhood. Nico, are you sure you want to tell everyone, you're shaking."
"I SAW PEOPLE GET KILLED FOR IT, what....what if they hate me?"
"You don't have to tell them if you don't want to."
"I want to I'm just, scared."
"They care about you di Angelo, I swear on the River of Styx they won't hate you." Nico took a deap breath and continued.
"I'm..I'm gay.." he tenses up, waiting for someone to call him a fag and yell that he was going to burn and potentially try to kill him. After no such reaction he continued,"Also I may or may not have fallen for that insufferable doctor, Solace. Percy and Annabeth already know," Nico turns around and hugs Jason,
"Good job Nico; damn three hugs in one day. You're progressing," Nico was tempted to yell 'shut up Grace' but decided against it. He broke the hug with Jason after he was able to keep his breathing under control, suddenly he was suffocated by a hug from Piper and Hazel
"Can't. Breathe." Nico muttered quietly and the girls let go,
"Thank you for telling us," Piper said "I'll look into Will for you." She grinned walking off giving the siblings some privacy,
"I proud of you for telling us." Hazel said hiding a grin,
"You don't hate me? You already knew didn't you?" Nico asks,
"Well I had some suspicions." Hazel said smiling,
"How? I didn't talk to anyone?" Nico says failing to suppress his laughter,
"Younger sister magic. Also Nico why would I hate you?"
"Bianca..."
"Nico, you're my brother, I couldn't hate you. I can't imagine what you've gone through but I'll always be here for you."
"Thank you Hazel, I love you."
"Love you to bro." Hazel smiled and kissed Nico on the cheek, by then Jason was talking to Leo.
"Nico, I'm proud of you. Hope Solace likes you back, maybe impress him with Jules-Albert. If anyone hurts you because of it then I will send the Roman Legions on them. " Reyna said, messing up his long black hair that went a couple of inches past his shoulders before leaving not giving Nico time to reply. Nico smiled, pathetic, I haven't smiled this much since I was ten year old he thought to himself.
"Di Angelo! I'm warning you about Will, his sense of humor is worse than mine and Percy's combined and do not and I mean do not ask him to sing unless you are prepared to listen to him for three hours. Also um.. good job on telling us," Leo said patting Nico on the back.
"Thanks for the advice Valdez, but I'm not sure it is possible for someone to have a worse sense of humor than you." Nico said bluntly yet still smirking,
"Good luck on Solace, Nico. Proud of you for telling us, if anyone ever gives you shit I'll turn into a poisonous snake and kill them. Everyone will think it was an accident." Frank says so seriously that Nico almost shakes, Nico has to look up to meet his eye. Frank was a foot taller than him,
"Thanks Frank, but let's try to avoid murder for now." Nico smiled, this was going much better than he expected.
"Thanks for coming with me Grace." Nico said,
"No problem Nico, I'll catch you later yeah?
***
______
Hope you enjoyed, please ignore any inaccurate sounding American measurement, I don’t understand imperial system but I tried to use it since the characters are American.
#percy jackson fandom#percy jackson fanfiction#percyjackson#Percy Jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy pjo#pjo#hero’s of olympus#nico di angelo#william andrew solace#william solace#will solace#Jason grace#piper mclean#reyna avila ramirez arellano#reyna pjo#nico pjo#will pjo#annabeth chase#Annabeth pjo#annabeth percy jackson#Jason pjo#leo valdez#Leo pjo#hazel levesque#hazel pjo#frank zhang#Frank pjo#fanfic#solangelo fanfiction
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ugh, I knew I should have just waited to send that, rather than trying to rush it off before fighting the ohgodwhat...
It did actually break my computer, but I have spares of course. Anyway, I'm really sorry that I upset you, let me try and explain myself...
Firstly, you know that old adage, "never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity"? Well... that's what was going on with the Dream thing. I didn't re-read the Dream section of the SBURB Glitch FAQ before sending, and the ONE Dream player I've ever met didn't have transparent clothes.
Still, I really do believe it's something that's been mostly version drifted away (which I REFUSE to budge on being real). I've not seen the memes! I think the memes you speak of are dead memes, buried in 7-year-old threads! And in my defense, Dream as an aspect has been getting rarer and rarer (or so I've heard) (which I also attribute to version drift).
Anyway, I wasn't trying to say that your writing is "obsolete", I'm saying parts of it might be for most modern sessions. And if we assume that you fell out of sync recently, or over a period of time, and not early on- which you seems likely as many of the asks you've gotten make reference to things I'd say have long since version-drifted into obscurity- then many of your postings were probably helpful at the time.
All I'm saying is that in more recent asks, you seem to be operating on a slightly outdated understanding, not that your entire blog was always worthless, or that nothing your saying has any application at all to the game as it is...
Finally, I'll say that it's a bit hard to notice when a post is a submission, vs just one you made. I have to scroll down past the actual post and check in the notes section to see that... at least, the way I was reading them. Check out the difference between these posts depending on the link you use:
https://www.tumblr.com/sburbian-sage/163102151042/please-tell-us-more-about-cuter-carapaces-this-is
https://sburbian-sage.tumblr.com/post/163102151042/please-tell-us-more-about-cuter-carapaces-this-is
I had been using the bottom link, which doesn't display the "submitted by" in the actual post.
You keeping a stockpile of multiple computers because they explode at the drop of a hat instantly disproves any spurious SBOOB accusations I've made. The only other thing I'll be apologizing for is me laughing at the "I saw a Dream player once and their clothes weren't transparent" line, because it's extremely funny. I wonder why your friend instantly went to get their outfit changed when they realized how little it leaves to the imagination. Unless you ascended at the same time, in which case I will be laughing harder (and conceding that yeah maybe there was some weird stuff going on there).
But either way, I think we're at an unsquarable circle. This is the first time I'm being accused of being massively out of sync, it's only coming from one source, and your accounts are massively out of whack with what I know and am keeping up with. I know this sounds like a "no u", but I think the only one version drifted in the room right now is you. This is at least vaguely similar to a Time player messaging you from the future, to the past, and acting like you know what the fuck he's talking about. I could be outdated, but I think with my current understanding that you might be forward-dated.
In any case, I acknowledge the "your advice is still good if working off of slightly off information" line, and will resolve to hit the books some more. And in turn, I apologize for accusing you of being a phantom from the internet come to rob me of my mental faculties and ability to relate to reality. I was originally going to post the image of the anime girl saying "let's agree to disagree" while she imagines the other person being hit by a car, but I'm not going to post it anymore, because I don't want you to be hit by a car. Also because I can't find it, but that's beside the point.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
"They're going to come after me for tuition reimbursement."
Moses has left work early and cancelled his evening class to look after me while Eli stayed at the branch to finish out the day. He's declared my feet too puffy, and has been working on them for a good 15 minutes. His movements are soft, and slow, and I think I could sit with my feet in his lap all day.
"Fuck it. Rich kids, their parents can afford it." He raises my good leg up to his face and kisses the inside of my ankle. "Gotta keep these little babies elevated."
"Mmhmm."
"If I didn't promise Eli I'd behave myself I'd put your legs over my shoulders and give you what fer. Technically still elevated."
I end up in his lap to kiss him and for all his saucy talk the most he does is sneak his hand under my shirt to hold his palm still in the middle of my back. I'm really trying to convince him, but he promised. Not even a little wiggling will get him to relent but it does cause his eyes to go real wide.
"I...uh...respect your hustle and we should definitely uhhh reconvene when you're not on the verge of a stroke."
"My blood pressure is not that high, now. Maybe earlier but not now." As soon as we got home he planted me on the couch and set to work asking Dr. Google what to do, even going so far as to call an auntie because every one of his aunties in an expert in something. Her best advice was BC powder, cool water, and "be with her, soothe her, honor her." Fantastic advice if you ask me.
He scoots me back, off his crotch and onto his legs, presumably so he can focus because he hasn't done a great job so far.
"We need to talk about that, actually." He holds on to my face, gently, but he still clearly means business. Have I mentioned that his eyes are soooo dark they make me sleepy and he's just so handsome he makes my tummy get all fluttery?
"Mmhmm."
"Are you listening, shitass? Or just staring?"
"Yeah."
He laughs, and pulls me in for a hug and I just sit there while he rubs my back. He and Eli are so easy to just sink into. I could bite him, nibble his shoulder just a little but I don't because apparently this is serious.
"You gotta go on leave, Buns...you're not even halfway through this and you're already all fucked up."
Rude. "And pretty?"
"Soooo pretty, the prettiest I've ever had besides Teddy." He kisses the top of my head, where most of my grey hairs are. "I get it, I really do. But if Teddy was MY husband I'd just let his big ass take care of me for the rest of my life."
"Yeah? Why?"
"He's good at it and he LIKES it. Solid, dependable, and has a total boner for taking care of you? Let him, let US. Just chill and have a baby and let us handle the rest."
Moses and I have talked about this before, a number of times, even before I was pregnant. Obviously he doesn't think women should be required to stay home (even going so far as to say that if Eli was the one tricky hips and bad knees he'd expect me to put forth a similar offer to the one Eli's been trying to give me), but he feels like the home is infinitely more important than anything going on outside of it. I do tend to be the one that takes care of domestic affairs, and they've both taken turns telling me, honestly, that they find my "job" at home to be more important and more inherently valuable than either one of theirs. "If we had to pay you, we couldn't afford you"...which, holy shit, I've never heard a man say that.
I stare at him, waiting for an indication that he's being less than truthful about his desire to be involved to this degree. I keep waiting for "it's not even my kid" to cross his lips but it hasn't yet. I'm starting to think it's never going to.
"Fine."
"REALLY?"
"Yes."
"Mmm...that's my good girl."
I can bite him now. "Don't say that unless you're gonna put out."
"Technically I told him I wouldn't get in if your blood pressure was still too high."
So because I'm old I check my BP before attempting a romp on the couch. This is my life now. Accept it. Move on. Cope. It's low enough, and at the midway point Eli comes home from work. He stands there looking not at all surprised before loosening his tie, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and strolling over like he owns us both.
"Feeling better, malia?" Oh noooo, he's Vlad now.
This is not a thing he hasn't seen us do before, but the way he purrs his Ukrainian always gets me all tongue tied and shy. "Mhmm."
"Hmm...I bet you do. Please, continue. I'll be right here if you need me." He gives Moses's hair a light tug before perching on the arm of the couch, watching.
He was so mild mannered before I got ahold of him. I should feel bad for corrupting him but I just...don't.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
real question, looking for advice if anyone's got any, asking for jobs advice. been unemployed for over a year now . (not straight thru, had a few lucky months at a bowling alley)
under a readmore for dashboard courtesy. it got long and yeah im pissed about the situation. bitching here and there, especially near the end
&rbs are off, if you have an answer please put it in the replies <3 . please read the whole thing before that though
what's a good way to consistently make at least enough money to help around my house with small bills and groceries (a hundred, two hundred a week maybe?), when im stuck walking and biking everywhere, &my handmedown laptop will threaten to blow up if i try to run anything too powerful
if you suggest me something that sounds like some kind of a scam i will delete it though
& nowhere's hiring around me (i live surrounded by a bunch of schools, they like to hire as many freshman to college aged part timers as possible out here) and when they ARE & ive applied, i get emails back saying someone else had better qualifications or something.
the yardwork, babysitting/dogsitting etc etc scene in my area is dominated by the kids in my area, too. everyone's already got someone doing that stuff, i checked. figure it's because people never pay kids much, i imagine it's the same with the companies around here
and when somehow i do land an interview i make sure i smell nice look nice i sit up straight. etc. i talk as clearly & confidently as possible, got a good firm handshake. and i still manage to flub it.
i'll call twice a week at minimum asking to talk to a manager, to follow up with my interview and get told they'll call me back & i get ghosted. i call em back again and it's always the same shit
trying to sell my art, trying to make myself marketable has always made me queasy, &besides being supremely burnt out right now, i don't have an ounce of artistic consistency in my body. i am NOT in control of how it comes out looking. i considered commissions and like. i'll do it, if anyone's interested. but i'm worried they wouldn't go well
like im gonna keep hunting !!!!!! im not giving up my local search, im not. super fit. im willing to bike around 5miles at this point, even in the TX summer, even at risk of injury. im sick to death of being broke and having nowhere to go and nothing to do.
i don't have anybody "irl" to talk to, either, no friends in my immediate area to ask about this.
no close friends in my immediate area at all, actually. i can count the people i was in school with growing up on one hand. and everyone's moved away to other states besides my girlfriend, & she lives 30mins away & has her own job & shit going on. can't ask her to drive me around all the time
it's all starting to feel hopeless. like, i haven't given up completely, im not JUST complaining about it. i'm still working on finding something
& im lucky enough to have a mom that isn't mad at me or anything. i'm lucky she loves me enough to have put up with this with me for so long. i'm lucky enough to not be life-or-death levels of desperate
(which is why i won't make a donation post unless it's important)
but she doesn't have any advice for me, either. she has hundreds of facebook connections in her industry.
sometimes shit's tight, sometime's the fridge is bare & we apply to food stamps, the lights turn off & my aunts, or one of her friends helps us out. but she keeps a roof over our heads. & she's always got ten to twenty people putting her name in, when she's out of work
but i don't have that. &im hanging onto my last thread here for dear life
#vent post#<- more or less just for blacklist#delete later#maybe . i don't know. i don't like complaining about my personal shit online too much#& if i had anywhere else to go with this. i swear to god i would#long post#it's long enough on desktop so on mobile it will probably be abysmal
0 notes
Text
Shadow and the Midnight Misery: Chapter 16
Chapter 16 is just below the cut. Here's the masterlist, and here's my FictionPress!
A/N: Some heavy topics at the end of this chapter, including mentions of rape.
Chapter 16: Flowers
"I hope it's okay that I brought some of your stuff in. There was a lot of it just sitting around and I didn't want it just out in the open."
Turning away from the window, I look over at Wyatt. He's driving, eyes fixed firmly on the road. He seems relaxed, more relaxed than I expect him to be. Back at the hospital, he’d been awkward; he hadn't known way to say and hadn’t known what to do. It was like he hadn’t know how close he could get to me without it being too close. But now that we're in his car, he seems to have relaxed. Maybe he's just focused on the road.
"What stuff?" I'm surprised to hear that he's already been to my house. They'd brought me some clothes, but I'd assumed they'd packed that bag while waiting on the ambulance.
"A few people sent some things--flowers and that sort of thing."
Flowers?
"Do you know who they're from?"
He shakes his head. "Didn't really look at them. One of the boxes looked like chocolate, and I may have gotten into that one, though."
I giggle. It's weird. We're acting like nothing is wrong, like everything is back to normal. We're both fooling ourselves and doing it so well that it doesn't matter that we're acting. I'll take a few minutes of fake bliss.
When we get to my house, Wyatt gets out of the car first. He tells me that he'll grab my stuff and that I can go ahead. I follow his advice, and, key in hand, I go up to the front door and unlock it.
I step inside as he grabs my bags. I don't get too far in, though, before I freeze, staring at the steps. I have an out of body experience where all of my memories come rushing back. I can see me arguing with the boys. I see myself hit the stairs; I see them freak out. I witness it all as a spectator, but with none of it directly in front of me. As I stand there, I pray that this incident won't ruin this house for me. I don't want to have to move.
I sniff. The fresh scent of flowers hits my nose and I follow it. Like Wyatt had promised, there are several vases of flowers, all of them sitting on the kitchen table. I walk over and examine them.
They look like they've been recently watered, and I wonder if it had been Wyatt. He's not exactly the type, though, so I tell myself to thank him once he comes in. Beside the flowers are a pile of cards; I'll have to read through those later. I start taking the little white cards out of the bouquets and sit down. I don't know why all of this just didn't go to the hospital, but I start reading.
The first one is from the label. There are a bunch of names that have been signed the card, but something tells me the execs had their assistants do it. Still, it's a nice gesture. The second set of flowers, dark orange lilies, is from Dean. There's no real note. Only his name. It makes me squirm, thinking to myself,
'I really need to call him.'
As I move onto the third card, Wyatt walks in. He says something, but, as soon as I see the handwriting, I tune him out.
Hope all is well, it says, hope you're back on your feet soon and looking forward to the next album.
Everything falls silent. Wyatt is still talking, but I can't really hear him. There's plenty of light in the room, but everything is blurry, everything except the name at the bottom of the card. The last person I'd ever want to get flowers from--the last person I'd ever want to reach out to me--and here he is, talking about my next album.
It's disgusting.
"Shadow. Shadow?"
Before I can stop myself, I stand back up. Calmly, I grab the flowers. I look down at the vase, cheap, blue, and plastic. "These are nice," I say. "Don't you think so?"
"Yeah, are those from--"
Smash.
Before he can even say a name, I hurl the flowers towards the floor. The plastic cracks and shatters, water spilling onto the floor. The flowers fall out, and, out of the corner of my eye, I see Wyatt look at me in horror, but all I can do is laugh.
"Hey, what was that for?"
"Ooops," I say, "it slipped." Calmly, I sit back down, and he comes rushing over. He starts to pick up the flowers, but I kick the pieces of plastic across the room.
"What's your problem?" he asks. I tell him it was an accident, but we both know it’s not the truth. He's frowning as he looks up at me, a confused look on his face. "Seriously, what gives? Are you going to make a mess with all of them?"
"No. I just don't want those."
"Well why not?" Flowers and plastic in his hands, he stands back up. To my disgust, he pulls a glass out of the cabinet and sticks the flowers in it. As he fills it with water, I ask,
Can you just throw those away?"
"Why? You're not allergic to them, are you?"
I close my eyes. A knot forms in the dead center of my stomach. Both my hands and my jaw clench as I force myself to take deep breaths. 'Suppress it,' I tell myself, 'just suppress it.'
I open my eyes to find Wyatt staring at me in confusion. One of his eyebrows is raised, his head is titled to the side, and his mouth is slightly open. I could easy lie to him, make up some excuse, but, as quickly as my fear comes, it goes. I'm left with white hot anger, and I decide:
I can't keep bottling this up.
When I say it, it's like ripping off the Band-Aid: fast, and with disregard to the pain.
"Because," I say, my breath already catching, "I don't want flowers from the asshole that forced me to have sex with him for three years."
~~~
Thoughts on how Wyatt is going to react? Leave me a note, and let me know what you think. See you in the next one!
-L.H.
#satmm#music#free fiction#writing#writer#original writing#original story#original content#novel#writers on tumblr#writblr#music novel#music fic
0 notes
Text
My Brother’s Keeper–Steve Harrington
I looked over, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Steve reach up and mess with Dustin's hat. It probably should've made me nervous that Steve "the Hair" Harrington was spending so much time with my brother. A month ago, I would've been but now that my brother practically worships the guy, I've gotten to know Steve through Dustin.
Yes, Dustin is super biased but after hearing the advice Steve's given him, it's hard not to smile when you hear Dustin talk about Steve.
I know Steve at school. Well, I know of Steve. He never noticed me until he started spending time with Dustin. Even after, he doesn't pay much attention to me at school. I went from being completely invisible to receiving an occasional glance from him. That's it.
"Alright," Steve said, clapping his hands. "I say we start there."
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked. I picked at my nails, a clear sign that I was hesitant.
"Steve's smart," Dustin shrugged. "Besides, we know it ran into the woods. So we go from there."
"Just be careful," I stuttered, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. Dustin smiled as he walked over and wrapped me in a hug.
"We'll be okay, Y/N," he said. "Promise."
I wrapped my arms tightly around myself the second Dustin let me go and walked away. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to stop the blush from forming.
"He'll be fine."
I looked up to see Steve staring at me. "I promise, Y/N. I'll take care of him."
I took a shaky breath and tightened my arms around myself, gathering the courage.
"Take care of yourself too."
* * * * *
Dustin's POV
"Alright," Steve sighed. "Let me get this straight - you kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who, who you just met?"
"Alright, that's grossly over-simplifying things."
"Why would a girl like some nasty slug-thing anyway?"
"An interdementional slug?" I laughed. "Cause it's awesome!"
"Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I just. . . I don't know. I feel like you're trying way too hard."
"Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?"
"It's not about the hair, man," Steve sighed. "The key with girls is just. . . just acting like you don't care."
"Even if you do?" I asked.
"Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts."
"Then what?"
"You just wait until uh. . . until you feel it," he said, sounding a little off.
"Feel what?"
"It's like it's before it's gonna storm, you know? You can't see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh. . ." I looked over at him when he hesitated. "Electricity, you know?"
"Oh, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere. . ."
"No, no, no, no, no," Steve cut me off. "Like a. . . Like a sexual electricity."
"Oh," I said under my breath.
"You feel that and then you make your move."
"So that's when you kiss her?"
"No," Steve said quickly, "whoa, whoa. Slow down, Romeo."
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy. Like a. . . I don't know. Like a lion. But others you got to be slow, you gotta be stealthy. . .like a ninja."
"What type do you think Y/N is?"
"She's different," he said instantly. "She's different than the other girls."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"What do you think of my sister?" I asked. "I mean, genuinely. What do you really think about Y/N? Guys don't really pay much attention to her and I feel like that's because they don't really know her. She's reserved and quiet. Guys only see that. They don't see how smart and funny and incredible she is. They don't get to see her the way I do. You don't even see the real her."
"I see the real her," Steve stuttered, slightly lowering his voice.
"She's shy and guys don't want a shy girl," I sighed. "They want an out-going, spunky girl who is friends with everyone. Y/N's. . . She's not like that. Not because she's weird. It's just she's got this really bad social anxiety and it makes her freeze up. But guys think she's weird."
"Just because she's shy, doesn't mean she's weird," Steve shrugged.
"Is that a deal-breaker for you?"
"It doesn't. . . I'm not. . ."
"You don't like her."
"She's your sister," Steve shrugged.
"So?"
I looked down and continued throwing pieces onto the train tracks.
"Dustin," he sighed, "I think your sister's great. Okay? She is. I've seen those few moments between you and her that you said other guys don't see. And actually, I've seen it more."
"What do you mean?"
"I remember Y/N from middle school," Steve confessed. "I was really struggling in pre-algebra and was in danger of being kicked off the team. Y/N came to me and offered to tutor me so I can get my grades up."
"You were the kid she said she was tutoring in the library during lunch," I said slowly as I figured it out.
"You knew?"
"I knew she was tutoring someone," I shrugged. "She never told me who it was though. When I asked why she wouldn't tell me their name, she just said that she didn't want to embarrass the kid. She didn't want to embarrass you."
"Wow," he said under his breath. "I didn't know. . . I thought. . . Wow."
"Holy shit," I laughed. "You like her."
"What?" Steve scoffed. "I don't. . ."
"You have a crush on my sister!"
"Shut up," Steve laughed. "It's not. . . I mean, she's cool but. . ."
"It's okay," I said, cutting off his nervous stuttering. "I think you'd be good for her. I mean, you'd protect her, right?"
"Of course," Steve said instantly. He cleared his throat and started talking, "So, tell me more about this girl."
"No, no, no," I laughed. "I want to keep talking about you and my sister."
"There isn't anything between me and Y/N."
"There could be."
Steve stopped walking and turned towards me. "Are you telling me you'd really be okay with me asking Y/N out?"
"Of course," I shrugged. "Like I said earlier, you'd protect her. That's all I want; someone who will protect my older sister from all the crazy shit we face. And someone who would treat her right. Oh! And someone who makes her happy. If you're going to be in my sister's life, I need to know that you'll make her happy."
"Dustin," he stuttered, but I quickly kept talking.
"I know Nancy kind of messed you up and I wouldn't want you using Y/N to get over her."
"I wouldn't do that," Steve said quickly. "Look Dustin, I've been thinking about Y/N a lot. Yes, more since the breakup but. . . I don't know. I've always felt like Y/N was the one I let get away."
"The one you let get away?" I asked. "Steve, she's literally right here. Well, not here, but you know what I mean. She's literally back at the house. You're around her almost every day."
I hesitated before opening up to him. "Look, she's going to kill me for telling you this but. . . Y/N's had a crush on you for as long as she'd admit to me. She begged me not to say anything to you because she thought you'd never go for her."
"Really?"
"Do you blame her?" I instantly asked. "Your Steve "the Hair" Harrington, star of the basketball team. She's a quiet, reserved, introverted bookworm. It's not that hard to understand."
We continued to walk down the tracks, neither one of us saying anything.
"Steve," I sighed, "I love my sister. She always puts me, and even my friends, before herself. All the time. I want someone to take care of her for a change. I've tried but she won't let me. I just want her to be happy."
"I think I could do that," Steve whispered.
"Steve, I need something a little stronger than I think," I half-chuckled and half-scoffed.
"I want to make her happy, Dustin."
* * * * *
"You're back!"
I looked up and laughed when Y/N ran over to us. When she got to me, she wrapped her arms tightly around me.
"Why were you guys gone so long?" She started to stutter. She pulled out of the hug, squatted down, and immediately started looking me over for injuries. I glanced up at a smiling Steve as Y/N continued to ramble.
"I thought you guys were going to be right back. I should've gone with you. I don't know why you chased down that. . . that thing. But it was dangerous and we should just leave it alone."
"Y/N," I cut her off. "I'm fine. Steve kept his promise."
She looked up at Steve and slowly stood back up. "Thank you," she said, her voice changing into the quiet tone she used around other people. She cleared her throat and looked away from Steve's gaze.
"Come on," she whispered. "I should drive you home before Mom finds out."
She grabbed my hand and started leading us outside. We were just about to get into the car when we heard Y/N's name being called. I turned around and smirked when I saw Steve jogging out of the house and towards us.
"Everything okay?" Y/N asked softly.
"Yeah," Steve stuttered, glancing at me. I gave him a nod before heading back into the house.
"Dustin?" I heard Y/N call out to me. "Where is he. . ."
Y/N's POV
". . . going?"
I glanced over at Steve to see him staring at me oddly. I bit my lip, my face burning the longer he was staring at me.
"Everything okay?" I asked hesitantly.
"I just. . . I was talking to Dustin and. . . He's worried. . ."
"Steve?" I interrupted his nervous stuttering. "Are you sure you're okay? I don't think I've ever seen you like this."
"Do you remember, back when you were helping me study in middle school, I didn't show up to our session the day before our big test?"
"Yes," I said slowly. "What about it?"
"I didn't miss it because of a last-minute practice like I told you," he confessed. "I missed it because I was starting to. . ."
"You were starting to what?"
"I was starting to realize that I'd rather spend time with you than with my team."
"So you ditched me?" I stuttered, looking down at my hands.
"I know how this sounds," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair–an action that always made me blush. "I was nieve and stupid. I had never felt like that before and I wasn't sure what to do. So I panicked. It was stupid. And I've been kicking myself in the ass ever since."
"Really?" I stuttered. Steve nodded as he took a step towards me. My breath got caught in my throat when he reached forward and grabbed my hands in his.
"Please tell me I'm not too late," he whispered.
"Too late for what?" I asked, barely audible.
"This."
I held my breath as he leaned in and pressed his lips delicately to mine. I was overwhelmed with confusion and happiness. I slowly started to kiss him back. I broke the kiss, suddenly aware of the house full of my brother and his friends.
I cleared my throat and looked down at our hands still intertwined. I started chewing on my bottom lip, overthinking.
"You're not," I whispered.
"I'm not too late to give this a try?"
I finally looked up at him, my face burning. I shook my head unable to find my voice. Steve smiled as he started to lean in. I looked over his shoulder and let go of his hands. He followed my gaze and instantly laughed when he saw Dustin watching us from the window. When he got caught, he quickly ducked inside.
"So, when you said that you and Dustin talked," I said, clearing my throat, "you really meant that you guys talked about me."
I looked over and smiled when I noticed he was looking down at our hands, trying to hide the pink rising on his cheeks. He cleared his throat before slowly looking back up at me with a knowing smile. He tightened his hands on mine and slowly pulled me closer.
"Amongst other things."
#steve harrington#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#stranger things imagine#joe keery#joe keery imagines#joe keery x reader#joe keery POV
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?
If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.
-_-_-_-
1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.
_-_
2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.
Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.
_-_
3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.
However, here are the rules you must follow:
-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.
-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.
-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)
-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.
... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.
That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...
_-_
4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.
_-_
5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.
Here’s how I cheat that:
Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.
Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.
Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.
Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.
And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.
You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...
_-_
6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.
“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”
You won’t.
Write it down.
Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.
And then, once you have it written down somewhere...
_-_
7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.
Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.
Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.
(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)
_-_
8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.
_-_
9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.
But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.
Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”
Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.
Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”
This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.
If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.
_-_
10) You don’t have to write in order.
Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.
But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.
Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.
_-_
11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.
If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.
If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.
When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.
This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.
_-_
12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.
Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.
Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.
Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.
Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.
They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.
Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.
Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.
_-_
13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.
_-_
14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.
_-_
15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.
_-_
16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.
I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”
And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.
Here are the things you must know about your character:
a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?
And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.
b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?
Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.
It also informs character behavior and personality.
Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.
Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.
These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.
Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.
In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.
Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.
Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.
-_-_-
I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.
Best of luck!
Edit: I forgot an important one:
17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.
What do I mean by that?
If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”
Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.
Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.
#asks#anon#writing advice#writing tips#writing#fanfic writing#fanfiction#character creation#plot development#character development#my advice#original writing
729 notes
·
View notes
Text
Young and Beautiful - Steve Rogers smut
The one where you were supposed to be a one-night stand, but Steve won't let that happen
Warnings: smut, and a little bit of angst.
A/N: this was our first ever patreon-voted fic, chosen for the month of May! My patreons at the $3 tier get to send me their ideas once a month and two of them end up being voted so I can write one of them each month. June’s fic is the one where Ransom needs to get a sugar mommy, and if you want to suggest a story for our July’s fic, please consider becoming a patreon! Thank you to my darling @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for reading this over for me.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
The first time wasn’t a mistake, I could admit to that. Steve had been coming to the same bar where I worked for almost a year now. I knew who he was, of course. Everyone knew - he was hard to miss. But I think what he liked about our run-down place is that no one seemed to care about Captain America and the things he did when he didn’t have a bottle of beer in his hand.
Over here, he was just Steve. And Steve tipped well and drank a lot - I was sure he couldn’t get drunk, no matter how many beers I served him, but he never stopped asking me for more.
So, needless to say, he was adored. Adored by my boss, who was always around to keep watch of his customers and keep them in line. Adored by Luke, who guarded the entrance, for all the nights Steve helped him get rid of men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. And adored by all the waitresses, for precisely the same reason - and because I always shared my tips with all of them.
Even the kitchen staff adored Steve. Besides, it’s not like he was hard on the eye - all the girls (customers and staff) were constantly fawning over him, but he was nothing short of a gentleman, always.
Actually, he seemed to avoid the members of the opposite sex as best as he could, clearly not interested in whatever it was that they planned to possibly get to do with him. Well, except for me.
He never avoided me. I always figured it was because I was the guardian of the alcohol - we’d even joke about it sometimes, when he came to sit by the bar after politely declining someone’s advances.
“It’s just hard to understand how to date nowadays,” he commented one day after a pretty girl actually asked him out on a date right in front of me, but he refused. I shrugged as I wiped the counter, thinking if there was any advice I could give him.
“It really isn’t that hard. You go out to dinner, walk her home and when you step in front of her door, you ask her for some coffee. She’ll usually do it herself, but if you want to show your interest…” His frown was amusing, to say the least, but I held back my laughter so he wouldn’t be even more uncomfortable.
“A coffee?” Giggling, I nodded. “Before bed? But…”
“It’s a metaphor, Steve. A lady can’t very well invite you into her sheets, now can she?” He blushed three different shades of red when I winked, another giggle escaping. “I mean, she can, but we like to keep some things unsaid - innuendos can be very sexy.”
Two months had passed and if Steve made use of my lessons, I wouldn’t know. He never brought anyone to the bar and never left with any lady who approached him either.
“What can I get ya, Steve?” I’d always ask. I’d never once called him Cap or anything other than the name he used to introduce himself - even though I obviously knew who he was. He always took his time before answering my questions, even if they required a simple yes or no, which amused me to no end.
For a while, I actually believed a gun or one of the buildings the Hulk had undoubtedly thrown in his direction had left him with a difficulty of hearing. But then after my first question, he never seemed to have any problem understanding me at all.
“Just a beer,” he’d say, a small, soft smile as he tried not to stare too much at me, fingers tapping on the counter while I got his order. I appreciated his effort not to make me uncomfortable - I knew he’d seen how often men did that to me. I had no doubt that was why he only ever looked me in the eye from under those huge eyelashes of his.
“There you go.” Always the same routine, we never once deviated from it. Until one night when I was supposed to close the bar and he heard my boss instructing me to be careful.
“There’s been a lot of robberies this late at night. Make sure you lock everything up properly.” I saluted in jest, making the old man laugh and shake his head at me. “See you tomorrow, kid.”
There were only a handful of customers - Steve included, and he was the only one by the bar, so I threw him a quick smile as I wiped the glasses and started to clean the counter.
“Can I get you anything else?” I offered, but he only grimaced in response, leaving me confused. “Is there something wrong?” He stared directly at me without answering for a while before he was able to snap out of whatever it was that had frozen him.
“You’re supposed to leave by yourself at two in the morning?” I chuckled lightly at his concern, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn’t see how it warmed my heart that he’d be preoccupied over me, someone that was a little more than a stranger to him.
“It’s part of the job,” I reassured him. “Well, usually it’s part of Luke’s job. But whenever he has to leave early, it’s my duty to fill in for him.” He nodded, but didn’t make any movement towards leaving. Usually, he would be gone by now, but it wasn’t that extraordinary for him to stay until the hour I left.
This was the first time he stayed this long though, considering I wasn’t the one responsible for closing the bar and I only realized it when I looked around and noticed we were the last two people left in the room.
“Planning on drinking much more?” I joked, trying to gauge if he was going to be much longer, but he seemed startled by my question, looking around to verify the same thing I’d just noticed.
“Oh, no. Not at all.” I smiled, thankful that he was conscious and wouldn’t force me to stay even longer after my shift had finished. “I just figured I could walk you home. It is pretty late, after all.”
My heart warmed up at how sweet and thoughtful this man was. He had no reason to wait for me to finish my job just to walk me home, yet here he was. “Thank you, Steve,” I acknowledged, sending him a grateful grin. “Let me just check the bathrooms real quick. I’ll grab my purse and we can leave.”
He nodded, watching me do as I said and in no time at all we took off together in the direction of my apartment. I wasn’t worried about making small talk with him on the way there - I knew he was a good conversationalist from all the times he had stayed by the bar instead of taking his beer to a table, and I adored the stories he told of his missions just as much as I appreciated how he genuinely cared about what I had to say.
The walk to my place seemed shorter than ever before, and in a few minutes we were standing in front of my door as I searched for my keys in my bag.
“C-Can I…” He murmured as I looked for it, glancing up at him and smiling to signal he should continue even though I couldn’t give him my full attention at that moment. “Would you… Do you have some coffee?”
I was so shocked that my head whipped up to stare at him, eyes wide and unbelieving. Did Steve… Did he… Did he want to have sex with me? “I mean… in your apartment, do you have some coffee in your apartment?”
The thought was so extraordinary that the second I realized his intentions, a fire of desire warmed my lower belly, not because he was Captain America, but because he was an attractive and sweet guy that was way out of my league and I couldn’t believe he was into me.
He kept talking as I kept blinking at him, trying to process what was going on. “’Cause I’d really like to have some coffee… with you… If you want some too…”
His voice got smaller the longer it took for me to answer him, until it disappeared completely and he cleared his throat. “Nevermind.” He was about to turn around and make a run for it, I was sure, but I was able to grasp his wrist just in time, signalling him to stop because I had something to say.
“I would love to make you some coffee, Steve.”
So yeah, the first time wasn’t a mistake. He was way too fucking sweet and I got hot just by seeing how nervous he was to ask me for some “coffee”, incredulous that I was capable of affecting this giant man that much.
So as soon as we were in my apartment, I tied up my hair with the little hair tie I always kept on my wrist during work and got on my knees for him.
And I cherished every fucking second of it.
The way his mouth fell open in a gasp when I reached for his jeans, the little moans he let out as I licked his member… I couldn’t close my eyes, too transfixed by his expressions to miss anything.
The way he pulled me by my hair to devour my mouth, hands so eager to undress me that he ended up ripping my blouse, but it only made me giggle.
The way his groan sounded almost painful when he picked me up, shoved me against the door and penetrated me, filling me so beautifully I hit my head back against the wood and didn’t even notice it.
He got me to cum without almost no preparation, just from the thrill of it all, the stretch of his member inside of me. When I urged him to cum in my pussy, the look on his eyes was enough to get me to cum again, milking him dry as he emptied himself with a growl, forehead dropping against mine while he tried to catch his breath.
I was expecting him to leave immediately or maybe stay for an actual coffee. I wasn’t expecting him to pull out, drop to his knees and start lapping his cum from inside of me, eyes as focused on mine as I had been for him only minutes before.
Burying my fingers in his short locks, I tried to keep myself up despite the way my legs trembled, but Steve just adjusted them so they’d be over his shoulders and held me up with his face buried in me.
I had never cum so many times in a row. But then again, I had never had a man eat his own cum out of me.
I fully intended it to be a one time thing, and that was my plan. I thanked him for eating me out, made him some coffee, giggled at his stories about his friends and for a second it almost looked like we were back at the bar, only the counter was my kitchen table and I was allowed to sit on the other side.
He didn’t ask to stay the evening and I breathed a sigh of relief after I closed the door behind him, ignoring the slight empty feeling that momentarily hit me. This is what I wanted, I reminded myself, and by acting the way I expected him to, he had made it clear that he understood the rules of the dating world he claimed to know so little of.
This was a one time deal. Nothing more.
But then the first night we saw each other at the bar again, it was when he burst through the door to punch some guy who came in just as I was closing, trying to steal the money we had in the vault. I was so fucking relieved to see his face that all I could do was tremble in his arms after the police came to get the robber, and of course I couldn’t let him go after that.
He walked me home and I didn’t even ask anything, just stood on my tiptoes to kiss his lips, using my grip on his shirt to pull him in as he helped me with my clothes.
“You’re so fucking pretty…” He moaned, and perhaps that should have been my first sign, the one that alerted me to stop what I was doing and not make this into a mistake I couldn’t take back.
He hadn’t talked the last time. He had never complimented me before.
“God, your ass…” He groaned as he palmed it, helping me over his lap when he took a seat on my couch, until I could fuse the both of us and ride us to hysteria.
But I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind because it felt so fucking good to be desired by him, to have him inside of me, cumming deep into my pussy only to eat it all out of me again.
It didn’t take long for me to learn about the errors of my way, though. In fact, it started the very next day, when he walked into the bar grinning from ear to ear and made a beeline in my direction.
“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and my eyes went wide as two saucers, especially when I saw him lean over the counter like he intended to peck my lips.
“Hello, Captain.” I quickly turned my back to him, facing the shelves of liquor to pretend that I was looking for something. My heart sank to my stomach as I took in what was happening, what I had just done in my effort to put some distance between us as if last night had never happened. “Can I get you anything?”
The time it took for him to answer almost had me looking at him from over my shoulder, but I restrained myself. “Yeah, you,” he finally said, and I breathed out in surprise. “Why are you acting this way?”
I panicked for a few seconds, reaching up for an already clean glass to attack it with my rag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tried to reassure the both of us, still incapable of looking him in the eye.
But I could see his massive body by the end of the counter from the corner of my eyes, where he always sat, and I saw him tap the old battered wood with his fingers - fingers he had used to spread me open for his tongue to reach - as he thought.
I hoped he would let it go. I hoped he would not.
“Fine,” he relented, and I froze, uncertain of what he meant. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” My head snapped up just in time to watch him leave, and he didn’t even look over his shoulder.
I tried to tell myself it was for the best. He needed some time to get over whatever the hell it was that he thought he was feeling and tomorrow things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t what happened.
He came back with flowers the next day, and I didn’t have any reasonable excuse not to accept it. He didn’t push for anything, just gave me the bouquet before asking for his usual drink. And then he proceeded to stay the entire evening right there, where he always sat, carefully watching my every move.
For the first time in a while, I broke two glasses in a single evening.
The day after that, he came with a box of chocolates. I couldn’t hide the smile because they were my favorite - I didn’t know how he knew it until he reminded me.
“You told me you liked them right when I started coming to this place.” His eyes were so heavy with a sad feeling that I couldn’t recognize that I had to avert my gaze. It messed with my heartbeat, it left my throat feeling dry.
“Thanks, Captain,” I softly acknowledged it, and I saw the way his grip on the box tightened. I saw it in the way it was slightly crumpled when I took it from his hands, but he didn’t say a word.
There was only so much that he could take, though. And I knew that. It didn’t help that my boss had caught onto his intentions and started to push me to go out on a date with him.
“Why don’t you give the poor guy a chance?” He’d incite, much to Steve’s utter glee.
“Yeah, Y/N. Why don’t you go out with me?” Steve urged, and although he never asked when my boss wasn’t around to initiate the teasing, I knew he wondered.
And the truth was that I wondered about it too. Because everything was screwed up now. When I gave him his beer and our fingers brushed, mine were left tingling. When I looked his way to find his gaze already on me, I shivered.
So yes, the second time was undeniably a mistake, but there wouldn’t be a third time. I’d make sure of it.
Steve’s P.O.V.
I was tired of waiting. I knew I had wanted her since the first time I laid my eyes on her, when I decided to stop at this rundown bar in the hopes of one night of crappy beer without being bothered by anyone asking for autographs or pictures.
I’d come here almost every night when I could escape the tower to watch her work, slowly getting her to warm up to me, and I fell for her personality in the process.
The way she clearly saw me as Steve, and not my title.
The way she always laughed at my stories and shared what had happened in the previous nights with the raucous customers.
The way she seemed to care about everyone and everything that came into contact with her.
So what started as desire became something deeper and for the first time since I was unfrozen, I found myself eager to understand what dating in this new century was like. I asked Sam for advice, and even Tony for any tips he could give me, but their general ideas didn’t matter to me when all I wanted was one single person.
Her.
So I asked her for her thoughts on the matter and was surprised with myself when I put them into practice. I was even more surprised when she accepted my advances and welcomed me into her embrace.
I was sure I’d never been happier than that evening.
But to have her pretend nothing had happened and even worse - treat me like a stranger after I had learned the taste of her skin? Nothing hurt deeper than that.
And still, I understood. I realized then that she hadn’t seen the situation the way that I had. She had thought all I wanted was a one-night deal - well, two-night deal - because I had never shown her anything to make her think differently.
So I set out to do just that. My way this time. And I was just about ready to ask her on a proper date when I was forced away for a whole damn month, having to resort to my hand and my memories of her body to get through the cold nights on the field.
The second I was back in the city, I only had one thing in mind. To get what I wanted, in whatever way she would let me.
“Can we talk?” My voice sounded clipped to my own ears, and maybe that’s why her mouth opened in surprise - or maybe it was seeing me at the bar so early, when there was barely anyone around, after being absent for so long.
“Sure,” she finally accepted, shrugging like it was no big deal, but I knew better than that. She might not know it, but I could read her perfectly, and I knew she was hiding her true feelings even to herself. I knew those feelings were deeper than she had ever felt. I knew they made her scared.
“Not here.” She stopped cleaning glasses then, frozen for a second before she looked around, taking in the fact that no one else was going to need her for a while. There was nowhere to run and maybe I was a jerk for doing this during her work hours, but I was a desperate jerk and I couldn’t wait a second longer.
“Okay.” She sounded small, and I knew what she was expecting to get out of this conversation. Closure, in one way or another. For me to finally let go of her. But I wouldn’t.
I wanted her too damn bad to let her escape like that.
“Go out with me.” I asked the second that the office door was closed behind us, and she immediately started shaking her head. “Yes, please,” I insisted. “Let me show you that I want more from you. I want so much more.”
“I can’t give you more,” was her answer, and she still avoided my eyes as she spoke. “One night, you even had two. That’s all I can give you. Please don’t ask me for anything more.”
“Why?” I asked, and the frustration in my voice was enough to get her to meet my eyes for the first time that evening. “Why are you trying to avoid this? I know you want me, Y/N. You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t. So just tell me why.”
“I can’t,” she insisted, moving towards the door, but I grasped her hand to stop her before she could slip through it - much like she had done that first night, when I thought I’d screwed up any chance I had to ever be with her.
“Tell me why you’re holding yourself back from me,” I ordered, anger and desire creating an explosive cocktail inside of me, making my voice hoarse. I saw her shiver. I watched her break.
“Because it was too fucking good and I swear to God, if you get your mouth on me again, I’m gonna marry you.” Our expressions mirrored one another, eyes wide, mouths hanging open. She couldn’t believe she had let out her feelings like this. I couldn’t believe there was all there was to it.
I dropped to my knees before her.
“Come here.” I shoved her jeans all the way down to her ankles, sending the button flying somewhere. I couldn’t tell where and I didn’t care. All I wanted was to show her that there was nothing wrong with wanting this, with wanting me because as long as she allowed me to, I’d give anything to be with her.
My tongue was so hungry to taste her sweetness again. I licked a stripe between her lower lips before I could even get my hand there, spreading her with my fingers for easier access.
God, she was heavenly. I watched her let her head fall back against the door, much like the first time I was able to be in this position, and my heartbeat fluttered at the realization that this time, I was much closer to getting what I really wanted from her.
“I’ve been terrified of my own feelings for long enough,” I decided to confess, parting from her clit to be able to speak but slipping two digits inside her hole, filling her up, preparing her to welcome me. “I can wait for you to come to terms with yours. But I can’t keep myself away,” I warned, quickening my movements as I chased away the taste of her in my tongue. “So don’t ask that of me.”
Her moan had my eyes sparkling with excitement. I lowered my head to suck her button, see the way it made her thighs tremble on each side of my face.
“So fucking sexy,” I moaned against her cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart. Drench my face.” Her little cry of ecstasy denounced she was about to do just that, so I twirled my tongue around her clit, rubbing my digits against her sweet spot as her body tensed under my ministrations.
“There you go…” I whispered, fascinated with the way she looked after her release. It was like she glowed from the inside, muscles relaxing to accept my caresses when I finished cleaning her with my tongue and rose to my full height.
“Next time you try to pretend something between us didn’t happen, I’m gonna bend you over the counter and spank your ass in front of all of the other patrons,” I warned her before nibbling her earlobe. “Go out with me,” I tried again, and she took a deep breath before answering, looking up at me from under her eyelashes.
“Okay.”
#my fics#steve rogers smut#steve rogers#smut#patreon one-shot#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers reader#steve rogers reader insert#steve rogers reader inserts#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers one-shot
566 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, I really like your work! and i would like to know if you can make yandere killua and yandere illumi fighting each other for the reader. The reader is a friend of Killua and is the same age as him, 18 years old.
Alright! This might be a bit iffy in parts because I never write actual confrontations, but I hope it's enjoyable! I couldn't really slip in some real yandere behavior, so I kinda implied it to keep things short lol.
Killua'd known you for a while now, about two years, from the age of 16 to now, his eighteenth birthday, and he liked you quite a bit. Because of this, the silver-haired man had begun to keep an even stricter eye on you than he had in the past. That's why you were tagging along to Killua's family home with him and Gon to let his family celebrate so that he could keep you safe and close. Besides, he'd rather you met Illumi under his watch than on the roads and by complete chance. So, Alluka was safely in a secure hotel room and you were walking up to the gates to Hades with him and Gon.
"You sure you can't just do this over the phone?" You asked, your (e/c) eyes swimming with concern for him, it made his stomach flutter with butterflies.
"Nah, my mom would have a fit if I didn't come home for my eighteenth birthday. But, if they try to introduce me to a 'nice girl', we run." That made you and Gon both giggle, but nod. Despite it being silly, the three of you knew it was highly likely. It would be too much to ask that Illumi and Milluki be the favored ones. Killua thought bitterly as he spotted the gates to Hades up ahead, but no. He and Illumi were something akin to the favorites out of his five siblings, the most 'loved' was Killua, he was the heir, so of course he was expected to breed and carry on the line, but Illumi was the eldest, so he too was expected to find a wife and have children. It was an awful fate that some part of Killua, deep down, felt sorry for his brother over, but it was a small portion.
With a firm shake of his head, Killua shooed the thoughts away and huffed at the doors that he now stood in front of,
"We'll do our best to get out quickly," Gon chirped, giving the white-haired assassin a confident smile, which he returned,
"Yeah! Real quick," he confirmed, before leading them to the testing gates and easily opening them all.
"Y'know (y/n), each of those doors is supposed to be 2 tons each? and each bigger one is twice the weight of the corresponding one!" Gon boasted, bringing an astounded look to your face,
"Holy shit, really?! Isn't that...128 tons though?" Gon nodded
"Yep! Killua can open them all," he boasted, beaming with pride in his friend, ignoring the pink-cheeked glare Killua threw his way as they walked onto the mountain.
As to be expected, the Zoldycks had sent Gotoh, their head butler, with a car, so the trio was spared the miles of walking it took to get to the actual main house. So, instead, they spent the ride talking and joking, which helped to combat the knot of dread in Killua's stomach. Something just told him that this visit wasn't going to end well, but he couldn't say why he felt that way. When he got inside the manor, he got his answer.
It wasn't that he and Illumi were still on bad terms, he'd tentatively begun to mend fences with his eldest brother at sixteen after years of blubbering and pestering from his mother, but the way Illumi's soulless eyes locked onto you when he spotted you did not sit well with the silver-haired Zoldyck. However, his mother tackled him before he could stop his brother from approaching you and striking up a conversation. The only comfort he got was in knowing you were talking to him almost solely out of the need to be polite, you'd been warned enough about the manipulative snake to know to be wary.
"you've grown so much! I barely recognize you anymore," Kikyo half squealed and half chided as if Killua could help himself growing to be Illumi's height, maybe a bit more, but the man just rolled his icy blue eyes, staying quiet to avoid his mother shrieking at him about how she was a good mother who loved him or something.
After his mother was done fussing at him, Killua returned to you, sticking close to you and Gon so he didn't lose his cool, doing so would only lengthen how long they'd have to stay. However, he also came over to interrupt Illumi's conversation with you,
"Hey, (y/n), ya doing okay?" he asked, not bothering to hide his concern about his brother, which got him a pointed look from said brother,
"Oh, yeah, just been chatting with your brother." you hummed, and while he could tell you were still wary, it was far less rigid as it was before. Of fucking course he'd do this bullcrap he thought, scanning over you to ensure his older sibling hadn't stuck you with a needle. Thankfully he hadn't, so that meant Illumi'd just charmed you. Disgusting.
Nonetheless, he bit back the urge to grab you and run and instead just talked to you and slowly led you away from Illumi. After that, things mellowed out for Killua and the day wasn't as much of a nightmare as he'd thought it would be, though that was mostly because he hung out with Gon and you more than his family. That wasn't to say he wasn't polite to his siblings, especially Kalluto, and nice to his parents, but he kept a distance from them. He especially kept a distance from Illumi, and he made sure you did the same so that the assassin couldn't put a needle in you or charm you anymore. However, Illumi approached him around evening, when you'd been drug off by Kikyo to 'have a chat' aka be interrogated for knowing her son so well.
"I know why you avoid me nowadays," Illumi hummed in his usual bored, almost-sleepy voice as he watched the tv and acted as if he didn't notice his younger brother's evil look. "but what bugs me right now, is you keeping (y/n) away from me. You know that I need a partner, your friend is a viable option, you're just being rude to stop me from at least trying to date her." He continued, and Killua could almost taste the annoyance in his deadpan brother's aura, but all it did was put a spark of malicious joy in his soul.
"First, my friends shouldn't be options for you, second, quit fucking talking about them like they're a piece of meat. (y/n) is a fucking human, not a damned broodmare for you." he pointed out in as cool of a tone as he could manage, both so no malice slips into his aura and affects Gon, who was next to him, and to further annoy Illumi.
"Is it because you have a crush on her? No offense, Kill, but that won't stop me from making a move if she's available. they're very cute, and I wouldn't mind having her for myself." the dead-eyed man said coldly, staring down at the younger man.
For a moment or two after that, Killua and Illumi gave each other lethal looks, having a silent argument that was so palpable that Gon finally got up and moved, knowing better than to try and intervene or help his friend with family spats. It turned out the dark haired boy had the right idea, because almost as soon as he'd gotten up, the two went at each other like a pair of hostile dogs.
Killua was swiftly thrown to the ground by his older brother, but since he was no longer twelve, Killua's punch in response did actual damage instead of being ignored. Though he still stood no chance against him, Killua did his best to punch, kick, and bite his brother, managing to roll him over and slam his head into the floor before he retaliated with a punch to the throat. Meanwhile, Gon, Milluki, and the other siblings watched and cheered, either for Illumi or killua, encouraging them or throwing out advice for how to win the fight until Silva and Zeno finally came in and pried the two brothers apart. They ended up having to hold the two apart, because as soon as they were on their feet, Killua kicked his brother in the stomach and was nearly yanked off his feet as a result.
"That is enough." Silva snapped, his voice not loud, but still firm enough to clear the wrathful red from Killua's eyes a bit and stop him from initiating another fist fight. "You two are now adults, having squabbles like this is unacceptable." he scolded, the brothers deflating in shame as they were finally released and further chewed out.
Finally, they were returned back to the social setting, and Killua was forced to put on a happy face for the rest of the night. He would've stayed pissed, maybe even attack Illumi a fifth time, but you were there, and he didn't want to worry you with the story. However, through dinner and the onslaught of gifts you and Gon helped him carry out, whenever you weren't looking or he was alone, Zeno and Silva once again would have to stop them from coming to blows before Killua finally left to go to a hotel for the night despite his mother offering his old room.
305 notes
·
View notes
Note
I think it would be really interesting for leo and sirius to talk ab how they both didn’t go to college and how they both joined the nhl at 18 but had v different upbringings
Ooo, I like this one! I’m always down for some Cap and Knutty bonding. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!
TW for mentioned bad parenting
“Kinda weird, isn’t it?” Leo said, breaking the nighttime silence after many long minutes of just their breathing. Sirius hummed in question. “Starting all this so young.”
Sirius made a noncommittal noise and Leo shifted, never taking his eyes off the sky. There was too much light pollution to see the stars properly in Gryffindor, but the roof of the rink didn’t have a bad view; the planes flying overhead brought pinpricks of brightness to the indigo blur.
“Was it hard for you?”
He heard Sirius’ coat move. “Was what hard?”
“Starting the NHL at eighteen.”
There was a long beat of silence. “Sometimes.”
“I didn’t know if I would make it,” Leo confessed, still barely above a murmur. Nobody else was around, but it didn’t feel right to talk in normal voices. The whole world was muted, save for the noise of the city below them. “There was just so much to do.”
Sirius laughed softly. “I hate to break it to you, rookie, but that doesn’t change.”
“How do you deal with it?”
“Before, or now?”
Leo thought for a moment. “Both.”
“Before, I would go home and shoot pucks until I was too tired to stand up. Sometimes I would read.” It wasn’t a secret, but it still made Leo’s heart hurt to remember. Nobody as kind and hardworking as Sirius deserved that. “Now, I make myself some food, take a shower, and steal Re’s softest hoodie.”
Leo could hear his smile in the dark—it echoed his own. “Nothing better, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Finn’s fit me best,” he mused. “But Lo’s smell better.”
“Ah, he finally discovered deodorant?”
“Shut up,” Leo teased, elbowing his ribs. Sirius laughed a little louder; in the light of the streetlamps and the absence of his granite-hard focus, it was easy to remember that he was only 26. Leo had worshipped him as a kid, but now he just saw Sirius for what he was. His captain, who guided him through the playoffs even when his personal life was crumbling apart. His older brother, though Sirius certainly wouldn’t think of him that way. His friend.
“Really, though, it’s important to have those connections,” Sirius said when they both calmed down. “Being alone is good, but only if you know you have people to talk to when you need them.”
“Was it easier when you weren’t living with someone?”
“No.” The answer was immediate.
“Sometimes I want the apartment to myself.” Leo lowered his voice unconsciously, then sighed. “It’s not because I don’t want them there. I just need to be alone. Wash the dishes. Clean my room. Call my mom.”
“You should tell them.”
He turned his head slightly; Sirius was still scanning the sky. “Is that what you did?”
“It took a couple hiccups, but yeah. If one of us needs some alone time, the other will go to the grocery store or take a walk, maybe hang out with friends. You just have to make sure your boys know that it’s not personal.”
“You’re freakishly good at sage advice.”
Sirius snorted. “Merci, rookie.”
“I’m not a rookie anymore.”
“Yeah, you are.” He raised his hands, as if outlining a marquee. “The Eternal Rookie, starring Leo Knut.”
Leo stuck his tongue out, feeling rather petulant about the whole thing. “Watch it, Cap, I’m gonna sic Dumo on you.”
“My own father?” Sirius gasped dramatically. “How could you?”
“Did you ever get homesick?”
The question was out of the blue—he didn’t blame Sirius for faltering. Honestly, Leo was kicking himself for asking in the first place, though he had been keeping it in for ages. Unspoken rule of the Lions #1: Don’t ask Cap about his childhood.
“I…” Sirius fell silent once more.
“I’m sorry,” Leo apologized, and he meant it. “That came out of nowhere.”
“I missed Regulus,” Sirius continued carefully without acknowledging him. “But no, I didn’t get homesick. I didn’t have time, or a real reason.”
Alone in a new city, finally out of a horrible living situation, but desperately missing the little brother he left behind… Leo couldn’t even begin to imagine going through it when the NHL by itself was already overwhelming to his teenage brain. He scooted an inch closer until their shoulders touched. “I get homesick every couple of months.”
“You have a kind family.”
“Have you even met them?”
“At the party.” Sirius’ smile was practically audible. “Your mother was very excited to see me.”
“Oh, god,” Leo groaned. “What happened?”
“She—“ He broke off with a laugh. “She was very nice, I promise, but I think I surprised her because she squeaked when I said ‘hello’.”
Leo shook his head. “Did you sneak up on her?”
“I’m six two, I can’t sneak up on anyone!”
“You walk like a fucking ghost, dude! It’s creepy!”
“Okay, rude.”
“I swear, you and Loops need to be belled like cats,” Leo huffed.
They lapsed back into comfortable quiet for a few more minutes as a train rattled past on one side and the metro busses rolled down Main Street on the other. It had taken Leo a long time to figure out Gryff’s layout, and even longer to get used to the sounds of the city.
“What does it feel like?”
Leo blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. “What?”
“Being homesick.” Sirius shifted again and folded his hands over his stomach. “I didn’t notice much of a difference in practices when I started the NHL, and going back to my parents’ house wasn’t my exactly a highlight of my year.”
Curiosity overrode his tact and reasoning skills. “You never asked Logan?”
“Non. It was different, with him. He had already left to go to college before I knew him, and spent four years away from his family.”
“Right.” Leo forgot about that on occasion. That Finn and Logan might be five years older than him, but they had only been rookies a year or two prior. Not everyone went straight from their city select team to an official draft. “It’s hard to describe.”
Sirius made an understanding noise, but he couldn’t entirely mask his disappointment. Leo licked his lips and tried again.
“It’s like a piece of you isn’t where it’s supposed to be. And it keeps tugging on your chest, but you never know when it’s going to start and stop so you just… deal with it. You ignore it some days and you think about it other days.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “The hard days are when you remember you can’t go back to the way things were before. I don’t even call my mom sometimes, ‘cause I know it’ll make me sadder.”
“The way things were before?”
“Yeah, like—like all my classmates are in college, and I’m laying on a roof with one of the most famous hockey players in the history of forever.” That drew a light laugh from them both. “I’m gonna go back to my reunion in a couple years and have literally nothing in common with the people I used to be friends with.”
“Sometimes I wish I went to college,” Sirius said. “But I would have missed so much if I did. I don’t think I would have been happy there.”
“Finn and Logan get weird about college.” Maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it, but Leo had the feeling none of their conversation would leave the rooftop. “It was hard for them, with all their shit.”
“Re does, too.” He recognized the sad edge in Sirius’ voice; it was the same as his own. “For a different reason. It started good, and ended bad.”
“I’m glad I missed out on that,” Leo said, biting down the urge to scream at the universe for putting their significant others through so much hardship at an already-difficult time. None of them deserved the pain they went through. “Besides, it’s not like we need degrees to play hockey, and we’ll have plenty of money afterward.”
“I never thought about my life after hockey until my ankle.”
“My parents always pushed me to make sure I wanted to do the NHL instead of more school.”
“You’re lucky to have them.”
“I wish you did.”
The words hung suspended between them before Leo could swallow them back down, somehow dangerous and calming at the same time. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it before; he just hadn’t said it out loud. The first time he had seen Sirius’ parents across the rink had given him a case of the heebie-jeebies so strong he had to shower twice. All the times after that just made him angry.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Sirius’ voice was quiet, but not upset. “You’re not the first person to say it. I’m glad you feel like you can be honest with me.”
Leo frowned. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”
“I try really hard to not be an asshole captain, so it actually does mean a lot.”
“I don’t think you could be an asshole if you tried.”
The barking laugh that split the night startled Leo so bad he nearly jumped out of his skin; Sirius clapped a hand over his mouth, though he was still snickering. “Sorry, sorry, I just—holy shit, I forgot you didn’t know me before. Mon dieu.”
“You weren’t that bad,” Leo protested. “Pots said you used to be grumpier, but that’s it.”
Sirius shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “I was such a dick. There’s not a single picture of the whole team where I’m smiling for about two years and I was such a stickler for the rules.”
Leo gaped at him. “You followed rules?”
“To the fucking letter. It was awful.”
“What happened?”
Sirius shrugged. “I got friends. Idiot friends who did things like showing me the easiest way onto the roof. Pots used to drag me up here every Friday.”
“Really?”
“Ouais.” Mischief flitted over his face. “He skipped date night with Lily once on accident, and she tracked us up here like a bloodhound. It was terrifying.”
“What did you do?” Lily was one of the nicest people Leo knew, but he knew better than to get on her bad side.
“Lied to her face while James hid behind that strobe light.”
“Did it work?”
“Are you kidding?” he snorted. “She called me a liar and suggested getting a better best friend. That was after she told James he’s better have something nice planned for their next date if he ever wanted to get in her pants again.”
“And yet you didn’t listen to her.” Leo tsked. “Of all the people on the team, you chose the hot mess.”
“Trust me, rookie, James had his whole life figured out compared to me.”
“Did you…” Leo trailed off and but his lip. He had pushed his luck a lot already; who knew if one more question would be the tipping point? “Did you ever think about coming out? Even just to Pots.”
Sirius didn’t hesitate. “After every single game.”
“For seven years?”
“Up until the day those pictures were leaked. Even more after Re and I were together.”
“How old were you when you knew?”
“13. You?”
Leo exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure. I think I had an idea of it as a kid, but didn’t really get it until I was in high school. My parents were even more worried about the NHL after I told them.”
“They worry a lot about you.”
“Only child, and I was going for a wildly unstable career path with no guarantee that I would ever see the ice.”
“They’re proud of you. More than you know.” Sirius’ watch beeped. “It’s ten o’clock. Are you supposed to be home?”
“I should probably make sure my boys haven’t burned down the apartment.” Neither of them made an attempt to move. “Can we do this again sometime?”
“Of course.”
You’re like a brother to me, he wanted to say. I don’t know who else I can talk to like this. “Thank you.”
“Any time. We don’t have to do extra practice beforehand, either.”
Leo nudged him gently. “You’re the best captain ever.”
“You’re the best rookie, rookie.”
“I’m not a rookie.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Yeah, I am, he thought as they laid side-by-side in silence once more with the past behind them and the future ahead. And if I end up like you, it means I did something right.
#leo knut#sirius black#coops#oknutzy#finn ohara#logan tremblay#sweater weather#lumosinlove#my fic#fanfic#friendship#cap and rookie
325 notes
·
View notes
Text
a smol sibling.,
w/ xiao, kaeya, & venti
— • request from anon : being the trio’s younger sibling! (separately)
xiao p1 || kaeya p1 || gn ! sibling ! reader || headcanon format || 1.5k words
; masterlist.,
; a / n - i’ve done xiao and kaeya before, but i had some more ideas so i’m making some more! links above if you’d like to read the others <3
xiao .,
• the other hcs i made for him where general, but here anon specified a younger sibling, so i’ll do that!
• he’s that sibling who’ll pretend ur the most annoying thing on the planet but would do anything for u so much as you ask
• “xiao when u come back could i have some glaze lilies” “get them yourself im the vigilant yaksha not a flower picker🙄” mhm then why did u literally wipe out qingce village’s flower population hm xiao 🤨
• teaches u how to fight!! but he’s not teaching he’s “helping you discover things yourself so you can be a functional person”
• it takes way too much effort to get this man to admit he loves you but you know it as much as he does so it’s okay <3
• cloud retainer has so much dirt on him it’s crazy. if you ever need some blackmail material head over to hers. also you can find some embarassing pictures she’s got a heckton
• verr goldet takes care of u a lot too, xiao’s a great brother and all but he lacks in this department called self care
• idk if you’re mortal or adeptus or half adeptus but if you need to eat and do basic body functions he does not got u covered
• mans would try to raise u on almond tofu until verr goldet bought out a food pyramid and explained about these things called nutrients
• he also doesn’t understand how important sleep is so,,, “xiao i’m gonna stay up” “yeah sure whatever” passing out two days later “y/N WHAT’S WRONG-”
• yeah verr goldet and the innkeeper guy give him a guide to basic survival talk and all through it he’s glaring at you like why did you never tell me you needed human things to live >:(
• now that he knows you need sleep, he makes u sleep at 8 pm every night like a grandpa!! good luck trying to get him to stop!!
• are these getting too guardian-like and less sibling-like??? 😭 but that’s the vibes he gives yk!! ur over protective adeptus parent-brother who has no clue how u work but wants to try to understand a little
• in the game u can tell how much more open he gets wit the traveller as friendship levels progress, and if you’ve maxed it out he’d basically do anything for you and would want you to trouble him than yourself
• and he’ll probably be closer with you than he’ll ever be with traveller since you’re siblings and whatnot, so it would make sense that he looks out for you more than your typical older brother yk
• plays the flute for you!! if he hears u humming a tune under your breath he’ll find it and learn it to play for u
• he may not fully understand how relationships work but he’s trying his best for u <3
kaeya .,
• my other kaeya hcs were in relation to you being close / living with diluc, but these will be more general and central towards kaeya!
• kaeya fits literally every older brother trope that exists. the brother who’s always got ur back? you got it. the brother who keeps secrets you don’t know about from you? heck yeah. the annoying brother who makes u do his chores for him? maybe a little too much.
• pls he (lovingly) shoves all of his small tasks onto u it’s infuriating but you can’t even say no bc then he gets all dramatic
• “y/n 😩 you’re abandonning your dear brother like this 😩 how could you 😩 i didn’t know you were so cruel 😩” sir shut up <3
• since he’s a people person everyone knows u very well too, heck all the senior citizens probably voted u as second best in law after him or smth idk man
• hanging out with best boy bennett!! he canonically sees kaeya as an older brother too so y’all def go on little adventures together <3
• ur one of the only people who have ever looked under his eyepatch, diluc and crepus being the only other two
• sometimes he forgets to take it off when he goes to bed and it leaves a bruise bc it’s pretty tight, so he let’s you change it for him
• “i can do this myself, you know” well he can but you both know he likes it better when you’re there
• does not allow your closet to be anything less than exquisite, you’ve got a bunch of scarfs like his whether you like it for not
• makes u buy his wine from diluc for him bc every time he goes to the tavern diluc raises the price tenfold just for him
• he’s that sibling who will rile you up on purpose just for the fun of it. i have a cousin who used to do that when he was younger and it was annoying but he still adores me sm so i don’t mind <3
• besides even if he does get on ur nerves amber’s got ur back- you can rant to her about him for hours on end and she’ll add with her experiences with kaeya’s bullying
• what are siblings if not for sibling rivalry, yes he picks on u constantly but he also picks u up when you’re feeling low <3
venti .,
• oh my gods he would be sO FUN
• the two of you are the bane of diluc’s existence, venti loops u into his winery pilfering plans a lot
• venti pulls the archon card if the two of you get caught by him idk what excuse you’ve got but it better be good 😭
• no way the god of wind and song’s sibling doesn’t love music- even if you’re tone deaf, or hard of hearing, music is about the pleasure it brings and he’ll bring it to you
• you guys go wind gliding a lot of the time too!! y’all don’t even need gliders you’ve got the power of anemo 😎
• he’s that cool brother who’s only rule is that you do whatever you want to do, life is too short for regrets so live in the moment and be spontaneous!
• even though he’s older he seems much younger than you at heart 😭 will wine if you don’t do something for him it’s hilarious
• you’ve got other things to do and he’s just “but hanging out!!!” and ur like “but work!!!”
• it’s very hard to be productive with him around, he will distract u with something as mundane as an apple- it’s not his fault tho bb just has a poor attention span 😭
• he’s very clingy, if you’re together he’ll link your elbows like everyone did in sixth grade, and in turn u can kick him in the kneecaps when he does stupid things
• he’s the ceo of stupid things so u get to kick him a lot, it’s a mutal symbiotic relationship we love to see it <33
• my brain is dead and i can’t english rn but. his vibes yk he’s so fun to be around, he gives out surprisingly killer advice too
• i have this man’s teapot lines plastered on my wall bc they help me deal with stuff, so if you’re ever down you can always, always, always go to him and he’ll have the exact things to say
• if it’s words, he has them, if it’s silence you need he’ll lend you his shoulder; but there was never an instance he doesn’t leave you better than before
• you haven’t seen his archon side a lot, since he doesn’t show it all that much, but it’s so far from venti it’s a little scary; but in a sort of admiring way yk
• you guys visit zhongli sometimes, and it’s a free real estate for blackmail material bc of how terrified venti is of him
• zhongli is like that long lost uncle who visits once a year, and you’re his favorite child so he gives you candy and picks on venti for not taking good enough care of you
• “i’m their sibling not their parent” “you’re older have some responsibility >:(”
• if you ever get drunk he will hear about it and will come all the way from liyue to i will have order venti’s head, regardless of whether he was the cause of you being drunk or not
• that about wraps it up! im sure i could think of more but my brain is sorta dead rn so this will have to suffice 😭 i can’t think of a closing statement sO i hope u enjoyed!! bye bye!! <3
#; gargoyle scriptures#xiao x reader#kaeya x reader#venti x reader#xiao headcanons#kaeya headcanons#venti headcanons#genshin x reader#genshin headcanons#xiao scenarios#kaeya scenarios#venti scenarios#genshin scenarios#xiao#kaeya alberich#venti#genshin impact
310 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ali arrived later than I expected. I didn't mind, honestly, but I thought he would be concerned about getting them to bed early since Sunday nights are basically school nights. I enjoyed giving extra snuggles, I love yous, and encouraging words. But after a while, keeping them awake became a challenge. Sleeping at my house was not a problem, but it would be better for everyone if we didn't have to wake them. But this was our first go at the kid swap. It may take a few rounds before we get it right.
"So...how did it go?" he asked.
"Great! We had the best time."
I told him about dinner, the beach, bowling, and seeing Dereck Jang.
"So...they didn't give you any trouble, then?"
"I mean...they're kids, Ali. They're not gonna be angels all the time. But for the most part, they were very good."
"Good. I'm glad."
I want to ask how his weekend went and what he got into, but it's not my business anymore. I've been thinking really hard about the other day when he asked me to call first, and I concluded we can't be BFFs anymore. We're supposed to be untethering ourselves from each other, and I keep inserting myself into his life. I need to give Ali the same space he afforded me. I wounded him, and he needs to heal. But every time I show up at the house like nothing happened, the healing process resets. We're in limbo, still married but living separate lives. But our children link us together, and sometimes it's easy to go on as if we're still a family because, in a way, we still have to operate as one for the kids' sake. It's hard to admit, but that's pretty selfish of me. I still love him and want to see his eyes and hear him say kind things to me. I don't think about his needs much at all.
"It's so quiet," he said. "Are they sleeping?"
"Yeah, sorry. I didn't realize you'd come so late, and they couldn't keep their eyes open so..."
"Aww man. I didn't want to encroach on your time by coming early, but... Next time I'll come after dinner?"
"That would be perfect."
He nodded and headed upstairs, but I remembered something I wanted to discuss with him.
"Oh! Wait...before you go up, I need your advice."
"Oh. Ok? What's up?"
Previously, I was excited to ask him about my candles, but now it feels weird. Like, what if he doesn't like the idea of me doing it? I mean, I have the skill now, so I have every right to make whatever I want. But crafting has sentimental value for us.
"Ummmm... Well, you see... It's just... I had all that wax lying around, so I thought I'd make some candles..."
"Ok..."
"I had lots of fun making them, and I made quite a few... And I was thinking about selling them and wanted to know if you thought they were good enough quality. But if it's weird that I'm doing this, I'll understand. We had plans to do this together, and now... I won't do it if it's painful for you. I just thought I should talk to you first."
"I appreciate that," he said, "but I don't mind."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I mean, you were always so excited about it. Heh, honestly, I think at some point it stopped being my idea and became yours. Besides, you spent so much money buying dyes, and let's not forget the time you spent growing those soybeans. You should get a return on that investment."
I was so happy to hear that. "Ok. I'm glad you agree. I just didn't want it to seem like I was throwing it in your face or anything."
"I know you wouldn't do that. Things didn't happen how we planned, but weirdly it's nice to know that it'll still happen despite..."
"Yeah."
We got caught up in a moment, gazing into each other's eyes. I always got lost in those baby blues. I knew it wasn't productive and would amount to nothing, but I couldn't help it. I hate that he was right when he said love just doesn't go away. Knowing what I know now, life is about to get really hard for me. And sad.
Luckily for us, Ali is stronger than me and looked away.
"So...let's see those candles."
I put them on the coffee table for him to inspect, and he picked up each one and reviewed them from all angles.
"These are really good, Em. You even figured out the block and cylindrical ones. You won't have a problem making a profit off these."
"You really think so?"
"Oh yeah. Your shop might be new, but don't sell yourself short. These are high-quality candles. As long as you market them well, people will buy at a higher price point."
"Thanks for the advice. I really want to continue doing this."
"Then I wish you the best of luck."
"One more thing?" I asked. This might be the last time I say anything about our former life. "Thank you...for everything. I wouldn't know anything about candles if you didn't teach me. And we had a really great life. You were better than good to me, and... Well, I just wanted to say thanks."
I know I put him on the spot, and he squirmed uncomfortably in the light. But I just had to get that out before I begin the awful task of severing my connection with him.
.
.
.
.
This post is brought to you in part by the letter A and Deborah Cox.
youtube
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crystal Clear
A/N: Here’s some fluff, friends to lovers I’ve had going on while I work on something bigger :))
----------------------------------------
“Y/N,” a strange man calls my name. I look him up and down but I don’t think I know him.
“Who’s asking?”
“Y/N, it’s me? Harry.”
“Oh,” I laugh and greet him how I would have if I’d recognized him under all those layers, in a great big hug. “Your disguise is brilliant!”
“It’s not a disguise,” he says into his coat. “It’s bloody cold here.”
“Coldest day so far,” I accept the hot chocolate from the vendor and ask him for another, Harry could use one, poor thing. His plans this week were changed last minute, and since he was in New York City where his best childhood friend lived, he decided to actually hang out with me. Ever since he got famous, it was hard to catch time with him.
“Did the cold freeze all the English out of you? You’re not even wearing mittens,” Harry accepts his own cup from the vendor.
“I’m got them in my pocket,” I point to the bulge on the side of my coat as we step aside and make our way deeper into the winter festival that was at Bryant Park. “Don’t insult me, I can still make a better cup of tea than you ever could.”
“There she is,” I hear the smile in Harry’s voice more than I see it. It truly was ridiculous--not only was he wearing the thickest parka I’d ever seen, he also had on a beanie and a scarf, as well as knit gloves that held tightly to his hot chocolate.
“I’m always here, you’re just too busy to see me.”
“Not this again,” he groans. I was always giving him grief every time he touched down to NYC but didn’t pop by for a visit. I knew he had a hectic schedule, and even though I wasn’t that bothered I still liked to tease him.
“It’s true, you come to the city so often but I see you once a year. And maybe again when I’m in London if I get lucky.”
“I’m busy Y/N, I talk to you all the time!”
“I know,” I elbow him. “I just like to rile you up.”
“Well now that you’ve got that out of your system,” he tugs my hat over my eyes. “Where are we going next?”
I push it back up, “I thought we could just wander the shops, then get on the skating rink if you’re not frozen to death.”
“Alright I’ve got to pick some gifts up anyway let’s see what’s here.”
We make a good team as we visit stands selling ornaments and kitschy decor, handmade gifts, and hot cider. We sift through exactly what we might want, or what the other’s looking for. And with the light dusting of snow coming down, and the bright lights strung around the Park, it was like walking in a Christmas movie.
“Look at this,” I point ahead. We’d nearly visited all the stands and holiday shops but a festive psychic advertises their services in a small glass booth. “Should we?”
“It’s a waste of money,” Harry scoffs. “She’s just going to read your body language.”
“She might be the real deal-”
“You can’t be serious-”
“C’mon!” I tug his gloves hand and it takes a few but he stumbles towards me. It’s slightly warmer inside and I notice the space heater running in the corner. “At least it’s warm” I whisper to Harry.
“You really want to do this?” He asks one last time.
“It’s just $10-”
“$20 for the two,” the woman almost shifts out of the wall and I hide my jump with a laugh. There’s a curtain behind her, I realize, she must have stepped out.
“It’s just me,” I clarify.
She eyes Harry and Harry eyes her back. “You look familiar.”
“Just have that face,” he shrugs, burrowing into his scarf. “I’m just here to watch.”
She stares at him a moment longer before settling at the small table. I flash Harry a smile before sitting down myself, setting my bags onto the floor.
“Palm reading, cards, what will it be dear?” The psychic asks. I remember the sign out front said cards would be more than having my palm read so I opt for the cheaper option.
“Hm,” she says thoughtfully as she traces the lines on my palm. I wriggle my eyebrows at Harry and he rolls his eyes, but he stays watching her like a hawk. It was cute how overprotective he got sometimes. The psychic glances up to catch him watching her, she then glances at me and tilts her head.
“I see longevity, in life and love, a few bumps but you’re a strong persistent woman.”
Harry grumbles behind me and I resist the urge to say something to him.
“I see success after hard, hard work. But a big success that will change the course of your career.”
“Wow, how soon?” I ask.
“Mmm, after a big milestone. Turning 30?” she continues to examine my hand. “I see a second life later in life, with kids...just one no maybe two children.”
“How about her love life?” Harry asks. “Her last love s’not too nice.”
“Seriously Harry?” I turn to glare this time. He’s grinning with flushed cheeks, knowing it was a sore spot he liked to say i told you so to. It was true, he had told me so about my 3 year relationship but I’d ignored him.
“Your love life,’ the woman speaks up. “Shows me two great loves. One cuts short, the other is as long as your life line.”
“Ooh,” I lean in, interested. “I think I know about the one that was cut short. Tell me about the second!”
“This second...” she traces my palm and I feel a tingle. “This second love is very close, a bit rocky but it will last.”
“A bit rocky?”
“Hm,” she chews her bottom lip. “Time, distance...it will make it rocky. But it lasts.”
“So how close is close?” I ask eagerly.
“Close,” she says with a smile that tells me I wasn’t getting anything else out of her.
“That’s a bit vague isn’t it?” Harry pipes up from the back.
“The future isn’t always crystal clear,” she says without looking up at him.
“Lay off,” I scold him.
“It’s okay, I get nonbelievers all the time.” She laughs. “That will be $10 dear.” When I hand her the bill she stops me as she takes it. “A little free advice?”
“Sure.” I pick up the bags I placed on the floor earlier.
"Don’t be so focused on the life you want that you don’t see the life you have around you.”
“I’ve actually told her that before,” Harry decides we want more of his unsolicited opinions. “Maybe there is something true to all of this.”
“Thanks,” I pocket her words for later. Harry was right, he’d said something along those lines to me before, especially when it came to giving up control and going with the flow on trips and events with him. I always declined his offers, we lived a modest life growing up and accepting these gifts from him always felt so excessive. I wanted to make my own way in the world, but Harry always had something to say. “And sorry for his attitude, he’s not always this rude.”
“Yeah,” Harry shifts forward. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m a lot nicer usually.”
“I know,” she smiles.
“She’s psychic,” I remind him.
“I’m also online,” she laughs. “Can I get a picture?”
Harry eyes me, before going in for a selfie with her. I know he usually didn’t mind getting asked in smaller settings but he’d admitted it was something he was still getting used to. It had been a couple years since he became so famous, in such a short amount of time I went from being able to go down to a local pub with my best friend to schedules and security details and a whole other list of complications. Sometimes I hated it, mostly I was happy for him.
“Another day, another fan.” I tell Harry after we walk away from the psychic and he flips me off. “Should we get something to eat and get out of the cold?”
“God yes,” Harry shivers. “Can we just go to yours?”
“Let’s go,” I loop my arm through Harry’s.
Harry wants instant warmth so he hails a cab and we pick up takeout once we reach my neighbourhood. Harry had been here a few times, my roommate had gotten used to the fact that I was best friends with him, and sometimes he preferred to stay here when he wanted to be anonymous. Paparazzi sometimes crowded outside his hotel when word leaked he was there.
We eat ourselves into a food coma and Harry decides to stay the night, not wanting to face the cold again. Since our living room couch sprained his neck the only time he’d slept there, he usually crashed in my bed. His head barely hits the pillow before he’s snoring, I guess the jet lag finally caught up.
***
I jerk out of sleep, a crashing noise followed by swearing catches my attention.
“I think your roommate dropped something,” I hear from beside me. I turn my face to get a facefull of Harry’s thigh tattoos.
“Y’think?” I croak and shift backwards to see his face. He’s sitting up in bed and scrolling through his phone.
“Guess which psychic is officially internet-famous?” Harry asks dryly.
“Hm?” I’m still calming my heart from waking up so suddenly so it takes a moment to register Harry’s words. “What?”
He shoves his phone in my face, the selfie he took with the psychic yesterday is posted on social media with over half a million likes. He swipes away and a lot of his tag is filled with news outlets and fan accounts spamming the picture. He pulls it back to read a heading: “Harry Styles visits Psychic for ideas on his next album. There’s also Harry Styles rumored to be connected to the Occult...I don’t know what that means. Psychic tells all on Harry Styles reading.”
“How did that picture circulate?” I rub my eyes and sit up beside him. “And where is all of this coming from?”
“She has a Twitter, and she posted the picture.” He shows me, it’s there with the caption A handsome face showed up to my booth at the Bryant Park Market tonight. Get your future told, 5pm to 9pm 7 days a week.
I can’t help but laugh, she was a business woman and she really took the opportunity to sell her service.
“It’s not funny Y/N,” Harry looks furious so I cover my mouth and squint at his screen as he scrolls. A ton of people are responding asking about his future or what he came there for. Amongst them, she responds to only one person: His love life was involved.
My jaw drops, “That’s such a lie! She read me my love life, and life lines!”
“I told you she was a fraud,” Harry jerks the phone back to him.
“She lied for sales, but doesn’t mean she didn’t tell the truth yesterday.”
“If she lied about this she lied about it all and you wasted $10. She only talked about your love life, not mine...”
I remember her words, my second love was very close...could she have meant...
I glance at Harry and he seemed to have followed the same train of thought because we lock eyes, his probably just as wide as mine.
“D’you think?” he says just as I say “Was she...?”
We immediately burst out laughing as the tension comes to a head and bubbles over in a safe trickle.
“Is that what she was trying to say?” I say when I’ve finally caught my breath, my stomach hurt from laughing this hard.
“I guess when she said close she meant close,” Harry’s flat on his back from laughing. “Quite literal.”
“And you were calling her out on being so vague.”
“I’ve got to give it to her,” he shuts his phone off and throws it onto the covers between us, releasing the annoyance. “She’s a good businesswoman.”
“I was thinking the same thing but I thought you might kill me if I said that,” I admit.
We lay on the rumpled covers in silence, I think about everything else she said. The potential of it all is tarnished by the idea of Harry being my second love, for life. It was so ridiculous, unless by love she meant the way I love him now. As my best friend. Our lives were so different, there was no way it could ever work. Not to mention...he was my best friend since forever.
“Have you ever thought about it?” Harry asks out of the blue.
“Thought about what?” I prop myself on my elbow.
“Us, like...the way she predicted?”
“Together together?” I can’t help but laugh. “No never, you’re my best friend!” I recognize the flash of hurt so I backtrack a little. “No offense Harry, I love you but could you imagine?”
“I have,” he says it so quietly as I lay back down. “What?” I ask. He shrugs, “I’m surprised you haven’t. We’ve been friends since...we were 7. You’re saying you never thought about it?”
“No,” I shake my head. “Actually I haven’t. When...what did you think about?”
“I dunno,” he fiddles with his rings. “Like for school dances, when I didn’t have a date I thought about asking you as more than a friend...thought about where that could lead. Or every time you had your heart broke. I wanted to take the pain away and just show you what you deserved.”
“Harry I...” it was sweet, what he was saying. But he never gave a single clue about it the entire time we grew up. He was always chasing girls who looked nothing like me, so I always thought that’s what his type was. Never did I think about anything more with him.
“Not-not recently though,” he forces a laugh. “Just when we were kids.”
“That’s sweet Harry. I had no idea.”
He shrugs, and sits up.
“No seriously I...that’s so sweet. But just so you know, you have shown me what a good man can be. Just by being the best friend ever.”
“Aw,” he swipes my cheek as he gets up. “That’s cute. I don’t know if I’ve done such a good job when you’ve only dated knobs.”
I could recognize his defense mechanism--turning it into a big joke. But he leaves the room before I can call him out and I’m left sitting in the mess of what he’d just told me. It’s not that it was awkward or a bad thing, but suddenly it felt tense and the tension triggered an anxious feeling in my chest.
I decide to get out of my room and find my roommate cleaning up the remains of her broken mug. I offer to clean the spill as she dresses to go out for her run. Helping her distracts me, and when I hear Harry leave the bathroom I lock myself in, and try some breathing exercises to clear the anxiety creeping up. When I realize I was trying to avoid Harry, I scold myself. This was ridiculous and funny! Harry wanted to ask me out when we were kids, it was cute, and that was it. The psychic was a fake anyway, nothing she said meant anything.
I head back to my room where Harry’s made the bed. I change into trousers and my favourite fisherman sweater, and find him having coffee at our small kitchen table with his phone on speaker as he talks to someone. His legs barely fit underneath, so they’re sprawled to the side. He’s still shirtless, and my attention snags on his torso.
I shake myself out of my thoughts as I bump into the kitchen island, and glance up to see that although he was talking to the person on the phone, his eyes had been on me...while my eyes were on his abs. Oh god, I cringe. I try to act casual, mouthing if he wanted breakfast but he shakes his head and points to the call he’s having.
I make myself a toast and try to ignore what just happened but it only adds to the tension from this morning. When he gets off his call he brings his cup up to the sink.
“I think I need another cup.”
“Be my guest,” I move aside. “You sure you don’t want breakfast?”
“Are you going to feed me avocado flax seed quinoa toast?” he teases.
“There’s no quinoa.” I correct, crossing my arms. “But...yes.”
“I’ll take this banana,” he holds the lone banana on the counter. “I’ve got to be in East Harlem by noon, that’s what the call was about.”
“Aw,” I hated saying goodbye. “Are you busy the rest of your stay?”
“I can make it back here,” he says.
“Do whatever you need to do,” I say. “I’m used to being discarded after you hang out with me in the city.”
“I don’t do that!” he reaches behind me to slot his cup in and set the machine to grind his beans. I can smell my shampoo on him, he must’ve showered. “If you want me back, you can just say that.”
The morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window leaves no room for shadows; the shift in the mood is clear as the daylight streaming in. Or maybe I was reading too much into his words.
“I always want you back,” I look up to his height now that he’s standing so close, and the kitchen tightens further.
We’re stuck in a tableau; with my back against the fridge looking up at him as he gazes down with a curious expression. My mind grows blank the longer I stare. No one says a word, the sound of beans grinding the only noise in the kitchen.
My best friend in the whole world looks torn standing in front of me like this, and as my senses slowly rush back I realize that even if my expression doesn’t show it...I was torn. Because out of nowhere, all I can think about are all the questions I ever shoved away in the dark: what would it feel like if I kissed him right now? And what would have happened to us if he had asked me out to our school dance? Would we still be best friends? Would we have cut each other out? How many universes were we still good together like this? How many universes were we good together as more than this?
An urge to touch his face, make sure this was real, takes over me. But as soon as my fingers brush his cheek he snaps out of his trance and stumbles back like I’d burned him.
He forces a laugh. “I really do need that coffee.”
“Right,” I turn to the machine to put the grinds into their slot but I yank too hard and the freshly ground coffee flies out towards me. “Shit!”
“What happ-” Harry takes one look at what’s happened and turns away, his shoulders shaking.
“I can see you right in front of me laughing!” I shout. “Help me!”
“It’s all over you Y/N,” he turns around, tears in his eyes. “Give me this, I’ll put it far away from you.” He takes the remaining grinds and sets it down. I brush away what’s closest to my eyes so I can see and try to shake it off my sweater but they stick to the fibers of the knit.
“Great,” I grumble. “This is dry clean only.”
“It’s in your hair,” he runs his fingers through the strands that hang over my shoulder. I shake my head to dislodge the grinds; his fingers brush my neck away and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Uhm, that should be most of it.”
“It’s not out of this sweater,” I pout. “Screw dry clean, why did I think I could buy dry cleaning clothes?”
“I can drop it off on the way out today?” he offers.
“That means you’re coming back to drop it off to me?!” I ask hopefully.
His expression softens, “Y/N I’m coming back to your flat. I promise.”
“He promises!” I shout. Even though things were a bit awkward this morning, I got to spend more time with my hard-to-catch best friend and for that I was over the moon.
“We could also try to vacuum the sweater?” Harry suggests.
“So you don’t have to come back with dry clean?” I tease. “I’m not letting you get out of your promise, let me give it to you before you change your mind.” I tug my top off and ball it up, shoving it in his hands. It falls to the floor when he doesn’t hold it.
“Hello?” I look up and he’s a deer in the headlights. “Harry...”
“I can’t do this right now,” he takes a step back. I get the sweater from the ground and hold it out to him again.
“Do you want to wipe the kitchen floor with the sweater too? Take it!” I sigh. “Harry are you really acting so chaste about seeing a girl in her bra?”
“It’s-” he decides to stop mid-word. “You’re not just any girl Y/N, I’ve already made it clear.”
Now it’s my turn to stare--he hadn’t made it clear. “You said you only felt something when you were younger...”
“And you believed me?”
I realize I didn’t, but I wanted to believe him so I hadn’t questioned it. “Well it’s not the first time you’ve seen me in a bra. Can you take the damn sweater?”
“Yeah I can I’m just...” he seems to calm down a bit, enough to step towards me and take it. “I didn’t have to face this conflicted feeling in me if I didn’t see you often. I can just be the best friend. But now, with the whole psychic thing and you in--like this in your kitchen and I--I’m remembering how much I just want to...”
“Kiss me,” I say.
“Yeah...” he looks away.
“No, I’m telling you to kiss me.” I clarify. His expression would’ve made me laugh if my heart wasn’t beating so fast. I couldn’t believe I was being this impulsive.
“Really? You’re not just saying that cuz of this morning?”
“Fine,” I step out of his reach and cross my arms to hide my shaking hands. “If you don’t want to kiss me-”
He pulls me back too quickly and I bump into his chest. “I never said that.” He says in a tone I’d never heard from him before, it’s serious and sexy and it sends tingles through my body. I press myself up against him and he finally, finally, kisses me. Every bit of tension and anxiety the day had built up releases in the single moment his lips cover mine.
How had I waited this long?
The kiss is gentle, delicate like he’s still not entirely sure I want the same thing he does. I show him I do by using my tongue to open his mouth slowly and the hesitation disappears immediately. We’re a fighter jet taking off from there; I don’t know where I end and where he begins as he walks me to the kitchen island and lifts me onto it, our limbs tangling together, His hands roam down the side of my body, but he stays in the safe zones until I unclasp my bra.
“Oh hell no,” my roommate’s voice interrupts us from behind. I hold my bra close and turn. She stands at the entryway, shaking her head. “Not here. Not on our kitchen island. You two have a room literally 10 feet away...”
“Oops,” I say quietly which seems to set Harry off. My roommate is still shaking her head but I see the smile on her face. I’d caught her hooking up on multiple occasions so it wasn’t anything new. But I didn’t do this often. I jump down, apologizing to her. “Harry’s going to clean the coffee off the floor...I-I’ll find a shirt.”
“Mhm,” she closes her bedroom door and I look over at Harry who’s crouching on the floor in tears.
“This is all your fault!” I whisper but he tugs me down to where he is and holds my face as he kisses me.
“I know you two aren’t behind the island,” my roommate’s voice comes out again. I stay there as her footsteps move to the bathroom and the door closes behind her.
“I hate you,” I skirt out of his reach, and rush to my room yelling another sorry as I head back and find a top. Harry appears in my room as I put it on.
“I guess that was a good time for her to walk in on before it got too far?” he still has a stupid grin on his face.
“I don’t even want to think about it,” my cheeks were burning and even more so that Harry was elated.
“I’ve actually got to head out now.”
I pout but he kisses my pout instead. He promises he’ll be back in the evening and I let him go with one more kiss, my mind catching up with everything that just happened.
Oh my god.
***
It’s nearly 8 by the time I’m done running all my errands--taking holidays off for work was usually a good decision for me. I had a big family and picking up all the holiday bits before I flew back home was always a big job. I take an Uber home, I couldn’t handle a 40 minutes trip back home carrying everything home on the subway.
I call out to my roommate when I get in but she doesn’t respond. I check her door and it’s open and dark, the bathroom is also empty. She must have evening plans.
I open my door to a surprise. Harry is sprawled on my bed. He jerks awake when I settle my bags down.
“Y/N?” he squints as I turn the light on.
“How did you get in here?” I shrug my coat off.
“Y’roommate let me in before she left,” he rubs his eyes. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep...I had a whole thing planned.”
I’d gone over the whole morning during my errands, surprised and excited and nervous about this new step for us. But I continued to think about what the psychic said, our love lines extended alongside my life line. Even though there wasn’t much comfort or trust in a psychic who used a photo opp as a marketing opp, what she said had come true. And I put my faith in that, calming my nerves about this new step potentially ruining our friendship forever.
“Was that okay?” Harry sits up. “She didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Oh no that’s fine,” I unwrap my scarf and stand at the foot of my bed. “I really wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”
“Of course I would,” he reaches for my hand. “I wouldn’t leave you after this morning, I’m not that flighty.”
“Well we never really got to talk about it,” I say as I sit down. I’d texted him during the day but it never showed he read it, I wasn’t sure how to read into that; finding him passed out on my room meant he was probably on the go all day.
“Are you okay with this?” he says with such concern, I nearly tear up. This was making me way too emotional.
“I am,” I smile at my best friend in the whole world. “I just don’t want to go too fast.”
“We won’t,” he promises as he holds his arms out. I lean in towards his solid chest and he wraps his arms around me. I feel his breath on my cheek, then his lips in my hair. “I’m yours for eternity Y/N, we can take it as slow or fast as you want.”
It was a good thing to say, and I believe him entirely.
We eventually untangle ourselves to get food in us, and even though things are different, they’re also not. We still pick out the same parts of our food to give the other person, we still talk the same shit and laugh at the same jokes. But his hands grasps mine and his thumb brushes over my knuckles absentmindedly. His eyes stay steady on me as I talk like I’m someone new he’s exploring. We kiss after dinner, but we also load the dishwasher and laugh about the one time I’d managed to burn soup from a can. Eventually we end in my bedroom, where we lay together, our conversation growing quieter by the minute, the space between us growing smaller.
And even though we’d slept like this a hundred times before, it’s different now. I can feel it in every atom of my being, I was his and he was mine. And I don’t know how long it’s been like this for it to feel so easy, but accepting it was a no brainer, like accepting the sky was blue or the sun was hot. I remember the advice the psychic gave, I was following it: living the life I had around me even though it wasn’t the life I thought I would have.
There were a million things Harry and I had to figure out to make this work--I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But I did know that it was right, it was true, and it was going to be forever.
The future may not be crystal clear, but my future with this man was.
#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#fic#writingsfromhome#friends to lovers#standalone#holiday fic#ignore any grammar or errors pls ty
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Romantics | Part Four
18+
Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.
Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*
Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,
Word Count: 5k
a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | epilogue
She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”
“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”
“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”
She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”
He nods, “can we just call it even?”
“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”
“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.
She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.
“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.
“Come here?”
She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”
“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”
He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”
It hurts, “I love you, too.”
She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.
“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”
“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.
“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”
“Yeah,” he nods again.
It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.
She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.
Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.
As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”
“Yes, please.”
She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”
“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”
“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”
“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.
“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”
And the dam breaks.
“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.
“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”
“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”
“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.
She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.
He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”
“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”
“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.
“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”
“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”
“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”
“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.
“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”
“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”
She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.
“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”
“Why?”
She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”
“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”
“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”
He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”
“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”
His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.
“I love you, too.”
—
All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.
The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.
“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.
The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.
“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”
She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”
“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.
“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”
“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”
“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.
He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.
“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”
“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.
It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.
“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”
“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”
It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”
“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”
When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.
“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.
“What would they be?”
“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”
“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.
“I’m really sorry.”
“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”
“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”
She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”
“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.
“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.
“Anything?”
“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”
He nods, “forever?”
She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”
He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”
“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.
She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”
“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.
She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.
She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.
“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”
“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.
“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”
“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.
“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.
She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.
He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.
He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.
She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”
“I love you,” he shrugs.
He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”
He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”
He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.
With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.
With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.
She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.
“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.
“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.
“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.
He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.
She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.
“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”
“You need to go,” she smiles.
He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”
“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.
He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...
—
She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.
It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”
“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.
“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.
“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”
“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.
She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”
“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.
“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.
“How do you know about Elle?”
“She’s the first person he slept with?”
“When?” They both shout.
“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”
They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?”
“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”
“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”
“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.
“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”
There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.
It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.
She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.
When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.
It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”
“Don’t you have to debrief?”
“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”
“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”
She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”
“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”
“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”
“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.
“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”
“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”
“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”
“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”
“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.
—
She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.
He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.
He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.
When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”
“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”
“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”
He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”
Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”
“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”
“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.
“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”
“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.
“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”
“Can we get in bed first?”
“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.
He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.
But until then, he belonged to her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”
“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”
“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”
“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”
“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”
“Me too.”
“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.
She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”
“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.
“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”
“Would you like to Marry me?”
“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.
He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”
“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”
“Why?”
“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.
“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”
“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”
He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.
“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”
~
Permanent tag list:
@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxomgg @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @Meganskane @gubeskneescrew
New Romantics:
@bunny-script @ficsrecsforhrnybitches @ne--yo-pets @rexorangecouny @valerieweasley @beepbooptoop @coldlilheart @andiebeaword @anonymous-reading
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid request#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#new romantics
250 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
gholdenly
✨golden hour✨
thomasfan666
꧁•𝕃𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧•꧂
yogesh9892
Yogesh Kumar Modi
angelofiorillo
angelofiorillo
andyvillacres-blog
Sin título