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babydollmarauders · 1 year

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QUESTION…? — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which Quinn and sunshiny good girl, y/n, have harbored feelings for each other for a while. but when they finally hookup, Quinn leaves in the middle of the night and let’s y/n believe maybe it was just a one night fling.

specific lyrics: “good girl, sad boy.” and “did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room and every single one of your friends was making fun of you but fifteen seconds later they were clapping too? then what did you do? did you leave her house in the middle of the night?”

warnings: kinda steamy but no NSFW. profanity.

notes: it does get a little steamy but there is no actual smut in this, i apologize if you were expecting some! i wrote this while watching the UMich game and i have the worst migraine, so i’m sorry if this sucks.

not my gif

contrary to popular belief, i’m not oblivious to the irony of Quinn Hughes and i being best friends. the optimistic, always happy, constantly smiling hopeless romantic being best friends with the pessimistic, always looks miserable, rarely smiling hockey player? yeah, it’s baffled our other friends for years.

but when asked, i can’t really explain it. Quinn and i just click. we know what makes the other happy, or sad, or angry. it’s easy for us to be around each other. and we’re understanding of each other. i don’t push him to talk, and he’s one of the rare few who will just sit and listen to me ramble without asking me to shut up. as like all best friends we’re really close. we like to think we have no secrets. that we tell each other everything.

but, i have one.

i’m in love with my best friend.

i never meant for it to happen. when we became friends, i was actually glad to finally meet a guy that just wanted to be friends. no underlying motives, no moves being pulled. just friends. but eventually my feelings changed. it wasn’t all at once, like i read about in my romance novels. no. the changes were gradual. it started slowly, with me seeking him out more than my other friends. then it turned into getting butterflies in my stomach when we touched, no matter if we were holding hands, linked arms, or if i was just sitting close enough to him on the couch that our thighs touched. at first i chalked it up to him just being my best friend, but then the dreams started happening. dreams where he and i were dating. and eventually sleeping dreams turned into daydreams. and then i finally realized my true feelings. i’m in love with my best friend.

i’ve spent the better half of our four year friendship hiding my feelings from him, too scared that confessing might ruin our friendship. he’s never given me any reason to assume that he feels the same way, so i keep my feelings locked in a box in the back of my mind, only let free when i’m alone and daydreaming about what life would be like if we were more than friends.

i’ve since then gone on several dates with numerous guys, trying to find someone who makes me feel the way Quinn does, but it’s been a moot effort. every guy has been missing the spark that i feel between Quinn and i. and i always end up back to the beginning, spending my nights hanging out with my best friend and just hoping i’m strong enough not to spill my secret.

which brings us to now, where i’m mentally screaming over how good Quinn looks in his white button down shirt and black dress pants. it’s new year’s eve, and most of the Canucks team, their partners, and a few friends are lounged around Elias’s house. with five minutes until the new year, i’m sat on the couch clutching a glass of champagne, my sixth of the night, and animatedly chatting with Quinn, who looks like he would rather be anywhere else. but i’ve learned by now that that’s just his resting facial expression.

“alcohol makes you chatty, doesn’t it y/n?” Elias laughs from his spot in the chair a few feet away from us. i stop talking, letting out a weak chuckle. it’s not like i’m unused to comments like that, i’m often told that i talk a lot, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little.

“it does. but i like it. i like listening to her talk.” Quinn defends. my heart flutters in my chest at his words. a blush coating my cheeks. “now back to what you were saying, y/n.”

i blink a few times, just staring at my best friend in front of me before i begin to speak.

“oh. i was just saying that i think my parents want me to visit soon. but i was done speaking.” i shrug.

“no, you weren’t.” Quinn’s brows furrow and he wears a scowl. “you were still talking.”

“well, i was about done anyways. but i can keep talking.” Quinn’s lips quirk in a half smile and he nods for me to continue. “well, i do think the concept of new years is pretty weird. and some of the traditions that people have are weird as well. like-”

i’m cut off by the simultaneous chants of the people surrounding us. counting down from ten. i smile and my face lights up. i love this part of the holiday.

“SEVEN! SIX! FIVE!” i sigh as i watch couples pair off, ready to kiss their other half a happy new year, a longing look in my eye. i feel Quinn shift beside me, his thigh pressing closer into mine. but my eyes are locked on my friends all smiling at their significant others, so happy and in love. i want that.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” i’m snapped out of my thoughts by a hand grasping my chin. my face is turned and i’m able to catch a quick glimpse of Quinn’s eyes before my lips are covered by his. his hands move to cup my face, his lips moving over mine. it takes me a second of hesitation to realize what’s happening and my heart speeds up. i snap out of my trance in time to move my lips, locking us into a slow and passionate kiss.

“GO HUGGY! FINALLY!” i hear someone yell and everyone laughs, cracking jokes about how long it took for us to kiss. Quinn pulls back to lock eyes with me, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. he gives me a small smile before leaning in and capturing my lips with his once more. our friends start clapping and i smile into the kiss, making him pull away once again. this time he pulls away completely, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to him.

what did that mean? does he like me the way that i like him? or was it just a midnight kiss between friends? is this gonna change anything, or are we just going to move past this like it didn’t happen? does he realize how much this means to me? my head is swarmed with questions that i may never know the answers to.

i stay glued to his hip for the rest of the night, my head still reeling from the kiss. not long after midnight, everyone starts to head home, and i follow Quinn out to his car so he can give me a ride. he opens the passenger seat for me, helping me in before shutting it and jogging around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers seat. the drive is unusually quiet, my usual chattiness drifted away after our kiss. instead i’m stuck inside my own mind, still wondering what it meant. when he pulls up and parks in a spot outside my apartment complex, he turns to look at me, and i manage a smile.

“you okay?” he asks. “you’ve been quiet.”

“yeah, i’m fine. just figured i’d give you a reprieve.” i joke. his expression tells me he didn’t appreciate my attempt.

“don’t do that.” he says.

“do what?”

“don’t let what Elias said get into your head. i love that you never stop talking. i like seeing you happy.”

okay he needs to stop talking before i do something monumentally stupid. like kiss him again.

“don’t worry, Quinny. i’m not gonna go silent on you. i was just joking.” i smile. “who else can i talk about all my star wars theories with, without them calling me a nerd?”

he laughs and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“you wanna come in and drink some wine while i tell you about how i think Palpatine is actually Anakin’s father?” i ask, and he nods.

“what else would i do?” he jokes sarcastically.

we get out of the car and Quinn leads the way up to my apartment, having been here hundreds of times in the past four years. i unlock my door and call out to my cat that i’m home. within seconds she comes around the corner, and Quinn scoops her up in his arms, cradling her like a baby. i listen to him coo at her as i grab a bottle of wine off my kitchen counter and pour two glasses.

within a few minutes, Quinn and i are sat on my bed, drinking our wine as i lay my feet in his lap and talk to him about my theory. Quinn listens intently, as if he hasn’t already heard it a million times, and absentmindedly lays his hand on my ankle, sending a spark up my leg.

“anyways, enough about that.” i finish. “how’s your mom? i heard you on the phone with her earlier. I miss Ellen.”

he smiles, a rare genuine grin at the mention of his family.

“she’s good.” he nods. “she misses you too. keeps telling me to bring you to the lake house this summer.”

“we’ll if that’s your way of offering, then i accept.” i tell him before joking- “i miss my favorite Hughes brother.”

“there’s no way that Luke is your favorite. i call bullshit.”

“you call bullshit every time i say it, but i still remain adamant. he’s the sweetest.” i tease. “he told me last summer that if i ever decide that i like younger guys, he’ll take me out. maybe i’ll finally take him up on that offer.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow, tickling the inside of my ankles as he speaks.

“oh please. he wouldn’t know how to handle you.”

i bark out a laugh and nudge his thigh with my foot.

“and just what is that supposed to mean?” i ask.

“it means that whatever man you finally decide is good enough for you, needs to appreciate you. he needs to love how much you like to speak, and your hopeless romantic side. he needs to appreciate that you always look on the bright side of things, and find a silver lining in everything. he needs to remember that you’re a sunrise person, preferring the beginning of a new day rather than the end, so you prefer your dates as brunch or picnics or going to a museum rather than dinner or a movie. and Luke is not that guy.”

my heart melts at his words. the fact that he knows these things about me and believes that i deserve to find someone who won’t make me compromise those parts of myself.

and there i go, doing something monumentally stupid, because before i can take a second to think before i react, i lean over and press my mouth to his. his lips lock with mine, moving slowly. i open my mouth, letting his tongue roam freely over mine. Quinn grasps my hips, pulling me in closer so that i’m straddled over his lap, and i roll my hips, lightly grinding down onto him, making him let out a groan.

he tastes like red wine and mint, an odd combination, but not a bad one. his hands slip under my top, skimming my bare skin as he settles them at my waist and pulls me closer. my chest is flush against his now, every breath i take making my nipples brush against his chest, sending pleasure driven shivers down my body, straight to my core.

“please.” i whisper against his lips.

“please what, y/n?” his voice is raspy, laced with lust and seduction.

“please Quinn. please fuck me.” i whimper as he pulls me down to roll over his quickly hardening length.

“whatever you want, baby.”

my eyes squint against the light coming in from my bedroom windows as i finally come to. it takes me a couple seconds to remember why i’m naked. and when the memories of the night before flash in my mind, i smile, rolling over in my bed to face Quinn. but his spot is empty. i reach over to feel cold sheets. he’s been gone awhile.

when did he leave? why did he leave?

tears prick at the back of my eyes, but i blink them away. he could just be in the kitchen. rising from my bed, i throw on an oversized t-shirt and some underwear as i glance around my room. his clothes are gone, the only ones left scattered on my floor being my own, sending another sinking feeling in my gut.

i leave my room, walking to my kitchen only for it to be empty. i check my bathroom, my living room, and my guest room, only for all of them to come up empty as well.

he left.

i finally let my tears fall, collapsing on my couch. i thought maybe he liked me, but was last night just an easy fuck for him? did he not want me in the way that i want him? in a relationship sense?

it’s been four days since Quinn and i slept together, and we haven’t spoken or seen each other in those days. it’s not unusual for us to not talk or see each other for a few days, but after our night together, i wasn’t expecting the complete silence. i told myself i would confront him the next time i see him, but the thought makes me anxious.

with the Canucks having two nights off in a row, a lot of them are going out to a bar, and as a close friend of the team, i was invited. Andrei didn’t tell me who all is coming though, so as i walk into the bar right now, i worry over the possibility of being confronted with Quinn.

my eyes roam the bar, searching for my friends, and when i finally spot them, i feel both relieved and anxious. i don’t see Quinn. i make my way over to them, giving hugs and fist bumps as i say my hello’s.

“i’m gonna go order a drink.” i let them know, but as i turn around, i see Quinn, who seems to be returning from the restroom. we lock eyes and he veers course, coming to a stop in front of me.

“hey.” he greets me, pulling me into a quick hug. my arms stay glued to my sides.

“hey.” i say weakly. before i can lose my confidence i speak again. “can we talk?”

Quinn nods and tips his head over towards an empty booth across the room. i lead the way over to it, taking a seat on one side while he takes the seat across from me.

“what’s up?” he asks, and i take a second to study his expressionless face. does he really not know what this is about?

“can i ask you a question?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies. he lifts the hat off his head and sweeps a hand through his hair before replacing the hat. i swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath.

“why did you leave?” i manage to get out.

“what?”

“that night. why did you leave? i woke up the next morning and you were gone.” i explain. he opens his mouth but i continue speaking. “i just need to know. did it mean nothing to you? because that night meant everything to me. and i was under the impression that it may have meant something to you, but then you left without even saying goodbye and it made me feel…cheap. so i just want you to be honest with me Quinn, did it? mean anything to you?”

Quinn’s nostrils flare and he winces, as if my words were hard for him to hear.

“of course. it meant so much to me, y/n. but it all happened so fast and right after i said those nice things. so, i laid awake overthinking. and i got it into my head that maybe you were just overwhelmed with what i had said and acted on impulse. that maybe it was just one night for you. and i could take that, so i left. i thought maybe that’s what you wanted me to do.” his voice is soft, barely audible over the commotion of the bar, and his words only make me more upset.

“so you didn’t think to talk to me? you just left?” my words are sharp, my tone incredulous. “if you would’ve talked to me then you would’ve known that i really like you, Quinn. i’ve been in love with you for two years. i wanted that night to happen. it wasn’t just a night for me. was the decision impulsive? maybe. but i thought about that happening between us for years. i wanted it. i want you. not just for one night, but forever.”

his hand snakes across the table, clasping my own.

“i want you too. forever. god, y/n, i’ve been in love with you since i met you. but i knew how much you’d been through with past relationships and i didn’t want to push you. and then when i thought enough time had passed, i didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so i took you in any way i could have you. if that was just as your best friend, then so be it. but i don’t want to be your best friend anymore, y/n/n.”

my head reels with his words, thinking back over them. wait what?

“what?” i whisper, my voice shaky.

“if you can forgive me for being an idiot and jumping to conclusions, i’d really like to be your boyfriend.”

my heart races, and i look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity.

“i’d really like that. but you can’t leave me like that again, Quinn.”

“i don’t think i ever want to leave you again.” he tells me. he stands, taking my hand in his and pulling me up so hard that i crash into his chest. he wraps his arms around my waist, leaning down and letting his lips graze mine, smiling. “my mom is gonna freak when i tell her we’re finally dating.”

my head drops back in a laugh before i tease-

“oh no, how am i gonna break this to Luke?”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks #midnights fic list #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders

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crimeronan · 4 months

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hey what is wwaitsoatl?

oh! it's what we are is the sum of a thousand lies, my most popular toh fic by FAR and the thing most toh people here started following me for. back before i got sucked down the princess luz hyperfixation rabbit hole. it's a fic that takes more work to write than any of my others because it has an incredibly involved drafting & editing process. bc i am a perfectionist.

the premise is a canon divergent timeline wherein belos suspects that hunter lied to him at the end of hunting palismen. and completely wrecks hunter's shit forever. and infects him with curse goop in the process. and darius (who, Very Importantly, does not yet have a friendly rapport with hunter) trips over the kid's half-dead body.

and freaks.

and kidnaps hunter n takes him to the owl house. bc that's the one surefire place of refuge on the isles.

there are a bunch of emotional threads, hence why it's novel-length and not even finished yet despite being about just four characters chilling in a house together.

mainly it's about:

hunter unraveling his cognitive dissonance and cult brainwashing in an AU where he doesn't have all of hollow mind's answers; his feelings are Incredibly complicated and messy & he gets incredibly mean and snarly about it

darius grappling with the fact that his own grief and resentment blinded him to a kid who Very Much Needed Him, darius dealing with the fact that actually he never DID grieve his mentor or his mentor's dead family

darius and hunter developing a rapport in a timeline where hunter very much has Not broken out of all the cop shit that darius disdains So Much. so darius is so fucking exasperated and tired all the time

eda trying desperately to help hunter learn to live with a curse / chronic pain / chronic illness, while having very little faith in herself to begin with

luz feeling Horrifically guilty about hunter's curse and injuries, bc she thinks she should have clocked the abuse and brought him home with her or otherwise stopped it

hunter developing an almost immediate and pathological emotional attachment to luz because of her kindness, which complicates all of his complicated feelings WAAAAAY MORE

eda, darius, AND luz all desperately trying to get hunter to admit that he's been abused and that what happened wasn't his fault. you would not believe how fucking long it takes.

i'm actually really, really, Really proud of it -- it's rare for one of a writer's best works to be their most popular, but this genuinely is one of mine. if not my best work, period. there's a lot of nuance and messiness and emotional complexity and grief and arguing that i'm SO happy with.

also, despite the subject matter, it's often extremely lighthearted. some of the funniest dialogue i've ever written is strewn throughout all these serious emotional threads.

i'd apologize for how long this response is but this story is a heart project and has 67,000 published words on ao3 so far. (the chapter i'm writing rn will likely be another ~8,000 words, then there are a couple more chapters to come.) so there's a lot to say!!

it's my most popular ao3 fic for any fandom, ever, in the 12 years i've been on the site. the response has been WILD. if you sort by kudos, it's the 31st most favorited owl house fic Of All Time, the 7th most popular fic involving darius, and the 5TH most popular hunter & luz relationship fic. again, of all time. which is. insane.

people have been very kind and patient with me having been too sick to work on it for a while. there was a seven-month break between chapters 8 and 9, and if i finish chapter ten soon then there'll have been a nine-month break between chapters 9 and 10. so i don't know how many people are actually going to come back to read it, a lot of ppl have moved on from the fandom and such. but i'm extremely extremely extremely grateful to everyone who's given it a look!

#replies #long post #toh #my writing #horrible mindscape trauma pals #dadrius #darius deamonne #eda clawthorne #wwaitsoatl #hunter toh #luz noceda #i really am in love with this story i like. i somehow forgot how in love i am with this story #but i do i love it so much. i love it So Much. i could talk about it for Ages

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aemehhh · 5 months

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Regrets and mistakes are memories made- Jotaro x Reader

CW: Canon typical violence, swearing (like, a lot.), blood, deep wounds, hurt, angst, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression and a panic attack is described in great detail, detailed description of character death, heartbreak. Also, spoiler warning for parts 3-6!

Wc: ~9.5k

A/N: Hello everybody! After I made a poll on here a lil while ago, people voted for a Jotaro fic and of course, your wish is my command.

First off, I want to apologize for any grammar mistakes; english isn't my first language. Also, this is my first fic, so any criticism is appreciated <3

Second of all, the story is made with a fem! Reader in mind, so the pronouns she/her are used. Also, the Reader is a Stand user! The name of the Stand is based on the Song "Head In The Clouds" by Hayd. Please give the Song a listen when you're done reading! :) Link for the song here: https://youtu.be/_aYQZoC3YCY?si=I8hSXMTYTzBmwzXC

Lastly, I am no mental health professional. Every description of depression and panic attacks stems from my own experiences as well as research I did. So, if you can't identify with Readers symptoms, I apologize. I also apologize if Jotaro is OOC. I still hope you have fun reading this story!

Enjoy~!

Love sucks. Like, it really, really fucking sucks.

Okay, no, it doesn't. But it kind of does too. It doesn't suck, when you see how you bring a smile to your partner's face with just your presence. It doesn't suck when you kiss the person you love or feel their touch or their warmth, and your heart just bursts with happiness. It doesn't suck, when your partner has a smile reserved for you and only you. When you whisper sweet nothings into each other's ear, fall asleep tangled in an intimate embrace, and then wake up to your beloved's face in the morning.

No, love really doesn't suck when that is the case. In fact, it can be considered to be truly beautiful.

It is beautiful when it is reciprocated. And that is where it really does start to fucking suck.

You met Jotaro Kujo in your very first year of high school. Jotaro was your classmate back then, and he always sat silently by the window. There was always that bizarre aura to Jotaro, when you look back. He has always had his typical, grumpy demeanor that practically screamed, "Leave me the fuck alone." His appearance spoke for itself. Although he was extremely handsome, having high cheekbones, a nearly perfect nose, the most beautiful blue eyes that have ever graced the earth's presence, as well as gorgeous, black curls; the most common expression on his face was a scowl. Jotaro also had more of a delinquent type of style when it came to how he wore his hair and uniform, and if that wasn't enough, he also told each and every single person who approached him to fuck off. So, he wasn't just a loner; he was kind of a freak, at least in your eyes. Which is precisely why you never bothered to interact with him, even when you became classmates and your assigned desk was next to his.

However, the two of you became friends in the long run. Though, to be frank, the way it happened really was bizarre.

It started at the beginning of your second year in high school. Unlike Jotaro, you weren't a loner by any means. On the contrary, although you weren't the most popular girl in school, you were social enough to have a close circle of friends that you hung out with regularly, and you didn't need more than that.

While the two of you never really spoke to one another, Jotaro was relieved that you were in the seat next to his. You were one of the only girls in the school who wasn't screeching in his ear whenever he walked by. Hell, you didn't even interact with him unless you were forced to by your teacher because of a dumb group assignment.

A group project was actually the reason why he started taking notice of you.

You two were working on a project with two other classmates. Jotaro was mostly silent, only saying something if absolutely necessary, which wasn't out of the norm for him. He looked out of the window with a bored expression, waiting for the next time he could smoke a much-needed cigarette. At the same time, you were in a heated discussion with a classmate about some stupid argument that needed to be brought up in a debate as part of the project. That classmate had completely disagreed with anything you said, not because he had good arguments, but because that fucker wanted to get on your nerves, and you knew it. You and that asshole were at it for about five minutes, and you were getting increasingly angry when, all of a sudden, the guy just magically agreed with your opinion. More or less. The guy claimed that that exact thought—your argument—just came into his head randomly. Jotaro noticed there was something weird about you at that moment. There was a shift of energy in the air when the guy just suddenly agreed with you, and it rubbed him in the wrong way.

Jotaro kept an eye on you after that. He noticed it happening like this a handful of times, where someone wouldn't agree with you for a while, then there would be a sort of shift, and all of a sudden, they'd agree with you. It bothered him real bad now.

Jotaro got his "evil spirit" soon after and was arrested. After his grandpa came to Japan and explained the concept of Stands to him, as well as the looming threat over their heads, a 100-year-old vampire named DIO, Jotaro suspected that you might have a Stand as well. After all, according to his grandpa, Stand users attract other Stand users.

Jotaro was right with his assumption.

You discovered you had a Stand during Jotaro's battle with Noriaki Kakyoin. You were in the nurse's office because you wanted to ask for some painkillers when the nurse, possessed by what you would later find out to be Kakyoin's Stand, attacked Jotaro and two other students. Something within you awoke in that moment, and a humanoid gray ghost came up behind the nurse, whispering in her ear that she would no longer attack the students. Afterwards, Kakyoin's Stand, Hierophant Green, came out of the nurse's body as if in a trance, and Jotaro's own Stand beat Kakyoin to a pulp.

Per his request, you followed Jotaro home that day as he carried Kakyoin, whom you discovered to be controlled by DIO. there. From there on, you learned about Stands from Jotaro's grandfather, Mr. Joseph Joestar, as well as his friend Muhammad Avdol, both of whom were Stand users.

On that day, you also named your Stand.

"So, from what it seems, your Stand has the ability to manipulate someone's thoughts and actions by whispering your command into their ear. This creates a haze that manipulates the opponent's head in such a manner that they think your command was their own thought. Therefore, making them take that action with no question asked. That is quite a useful ability to have." Avdol said while grabbing his chin in thought and looking at you.

"I guess now it makes sense why people magically agree with me when I fight with them, huh?" You scratched the back of your head, letting out an awkward and nervous laugh. All of this was just.. bizarre. Stands, a 100-year-old vampire in Egypt? Yeah. Not something that is usually happening in day-to-day life.

"So, got a name in mind? You can't just call it a ghost." Mr. Joestar, who insisted you call him Joseph, said with a grin.

You looked at the floor for a moment, pondering. Then you had one in mind.

"Hmm.. "Head in the Clouds" sounds pretty fitting, doesn't it?." You replied to the older man with a smile.

The true adventure began when Jotaro's angel of a mother, Holy, became ill from her Stand's power. Her soul was too kind, too gentle to be able to keep up with it. Avdol examined Holy and predicted that she would only have about 50 days until her body succumbed to her Stand's power and she would die. Mr. Joestar, who was beyond devastated and angry, called some doctors from the renowned Speedwagon Foundation (apparently this guy has connections everywhere in the fucking world) over to look after Holy.

Avdol, Joseph, Jotaro, and Noriaki, who was now freed from DIO's curse, planned to take the 50-day trip to Egypt in order to save Holy and defeat DIO. You were asked to join the others. And although hesitant at first, you agreed to tag along.

Your parents were contacted by the Speedwagon Foundation a few hours later, and they told them you got a spot in their international exchange program for Japanese students (you allegedly applied months ago). You had a bit of explaining to do that night, but they had no reason to think you were lying, so they let you go.

You got close to everyone on the trip. You even had a new guy join the group; a large, French man with silver hair called Jean Pierre Polnareff. He was quite a silly man, sometimes even a bit of a perv, but he was serious when he needed to be. The group sort of became a family to you at some point. Mr. Joestar, who insisted you call him Joseph, was acting like a father to Jotaro, Noriaki and you. Even when he was annoying at times, he kept his heart in the right place and made sure everyone was fed and doing as well as possible. You saw where Holy got her kind heart from. Avdol, although he was gone for some time, recovering from his shot wound given to him by a Stand user, was a very interesting and charming man. You and the others often listened to him talk about his travels all over the world and all the different people he met before.

Noriaki, Jotaro and you were the closest to one another, though. You guys formed a close bond that grew with each passing day. While you were indifferent towards Jotaro in the beginning, mainly because you didn't care to bother a person who very obviously wasn't keen on getting attention, you had learned to read him over the course of the trip. His body language and the way his eyes looked in different situations made it fairly easy for you to know what mood Jotaro was in. Take it from growing up in a home where you'd have to guess what your parent's mood was based on their footsteps alone, but your analyzing of his behavior made it easy to figure him out. Jotaro had a cold demeanor, yes, but he was also undeniably loyal, and he was worried deeply about his mother and friends. He protected those close to him with everything he could, and, not to mention, he did have a kickass sense of humor sometimes. You noticed little things about Jotaro too. You took note of how his face started sweating when he got stressed, his right nostril twitching slightly as well, or how he pulled his hat over his eyes when he got flustered or embarrassed, covering that up with his signature mutter of "good grief". You also started looking up to Jotaro the more you witnessed him fight, with Star Platinum's pure strength being something truly out of this world.

And while you weren't the most effective when it came to pure strength and close-hand combat, your Stand was strong enough to defend you most times, and your mind-manipulation saved the team's asses plenty as well. Your strategic and quick-thinking skills were impressive, and similar to Noriaki, you were able to come up with plans at the speed of light to figure out when an enemy Stand user was scheming something. This helped you bond with Noriaki, too. Both of you quickly became the team's strategists.

You and the guys basically bonded over beating ass. That's a given, though, considering the mission you and the gang were on.

You remember that one night, after you guys defeated the Sun. Jotaro, Noriaki, and you were sitting around a fire while Joseph and Polnareff were asleep. Avdol was still out of commission because of the shot wound, and Iggy, the dog Stand user that would later join you, wasn't there yet either. Or was he? (You aren't sure anymore.).

The three of you were talking. Well, kinda, it was mostly you and Noriaki talking about an ongoing manga that came out after a video game series, while Jotaro sat and listened to you, occasionally throwing in a comment or two. It was easy talking to the guys, maybe because all of you were the same age. That night, the three of you fell asleep by the fire with a light mood in the air. Nowadays, you look back on small moments like these fondly, a warmth embracing your heart.

But it hasn't always been that way.

"Death is inevitable. We all die one day."

Avdol muttered these words a few nights before he would die. The group of you were in a hotel room, most likely Joseph's. Iggy was asleep on the bed, Jotaro was smoking a cigarette with Polnareff on the balcony, and Noriaki was still in the hospital. You, Avdol, and Joseph sat at the table and drank coffee. You started the conversation. The injuries everyone, including you, got during the trip were heavy on your mind.

"Do you guys ever worry about dying here? Like, at all?" You broke the comfortable silence that was in the air. Your anxiety gnawed at your heart.

"Where did that question come from?" Joseph looked at you and laughed; today you know that it was a strained laugh, uncomfortable, even. Avdol only looked at you with a raised brow.

Joseph laughing made your 17-year-old self feel insecure about your feelings. You averted your gaze to your hands and started fiddling with them. "I.. I don't know. To be honest, I've just been thinking about death a lot these past few days, I guess. Day 50 is about three days away as well.." you hesitated. "I'm just overthinking. Forget I said anything." There was a long stretch of silence that followed until Avdol spoke up.

"Death is inevitable. Each one of us is going to die one day." Avdol placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a light squeeze before continuing. "I'm not scared of dying, no. If I live my life to the fullest, I will never have regrets, and if I have no regrets, I can die without worries. It's the only way to fight the fear of death, and let me give you this piece of advice; it's how you live a happier life."

Joseph cleared his throat. The topic made him uncomfortable; you know that today. "You know, you're still young." He started. "I don't think you could die without regrets, even if you tried. You're still in high school; you have the whole world to see. I don't plan on letting you kids die, and neither am I letting Holy die. It's not your time yet."

He was right. It wasn't your time. Neither was it Noriaki's, Avdol's, or Iggy's. But unlike the aforementioned, you were lucky enough to survive the battle against DIO.

To be frank, you barely made it. DIO targeted you after he killed Noriaki. And just before finishing you off completely, Joseph attacked him. If it weren't for him, you'd have been mush on the sidewalk.

You were hospitalized for about a month and a half after the battle. Your parents were told you were in a car accident with your "research group". In reality, DIO dropped a car onto your body. Your stand protected you well enough from dying, but you still had grave injuries. Part of your lower spine and hip got crushed. They performed surgery, added some metal plates and some other high-tech stuff to your bones so you would be able to walk again, and you also had to get a kidney transplant. There was some more stuff to it, but you never bothered to remember what they did in detail. The memory stung too much.

None of your physical pain could even compare to what you felt emotionally, anyway.

Survivor's guilt honestly ate you up alive. It gnawed on your heartstrings and burned as if someone poured a bottle of chili sauce on your heart and lungs. You felt even more horrible when you couldn't attend Noriaki's funeral. Joseph was the only one to go. Jotaro felt too guilty to be there.

Speaking of, Jotaro frequently visited you in the hospital.

You would've thought that Jotaro wanted to forget all about the trip and bury it—and you—in the past. But no, he often came by. He paid more attention in class, you noticed, since he always brought you notes. He also helped you study.

You avoided the topic of the trip like the plague at first. Until you couldn't.

When you got out of the hospital, Jotaro and you spoke much more at school since you joined him on the roof during his smoke breaks (you picked up the habit as well, not your proudest moment). So, it was weird to not see you at school that day.

Jotaro has felt uneasy a few times in his life. That day was one of them. He knew that your parents weren't going to be home for another two weeks; you told him that they were on a month-long vacation overseas, which in turn meant that you'd been alone for a while. He would never have admitted it out loud back then, but he was worried about you, especially because, as he came to find out, you didn't call in sick that day either.

He got even more worried when you didn't open the door. He rang the bell at least six times and knocked for three solid minutes until he got sick of it. He used Star Platinum to open your door from the inside and let himself in. He was panicking, picturing a bloody mess in your room. He thought, maybe that one pawn of DIO's, that DIO wrote about in his diary, hunted you down to finish you off and get revenge. He pictured blood, a corpse—the most grotesque image you could think of—and his heart pumped harder with every step he took towards your room.

He busted your door down when he walked in. It might not have been graceful, but fuck it. He blamed the adrenaline later on.

The first thing Jotaro saw was shattered glass on the floor. It looked like it was a mirror once. The next things were your school supplies that were scattered everywhere, as well as dirt and a destroyed flower pot. Your wardrobe apparently joined the mess too. Its broken, wooden remains adorning the ground, and a lot of your clothes were at the center of it. If it hadn't been for your cowering form in the very back corner of the room, Jotaro would have thought you'd been robbed.

That night, you remember, they appeared in your dream. They, as in, your friends who didn't survive the trip. You were all meeting up in Jotaro's garden, and everyone was a little older. It was fun; it felt warm; it felt like home. There was laughter coming from Joseph and Avdol; they were laughing at Iggy and Polnareff, who were fighting as usual. Noriaki was helping Holy pour tea into everyone's cup, and you and Jotaro were on the side, smoking a cigarette.

That's how you knew it was a dream; you were smoking. You only started after the Egypt trip, much to your doctor's disappointment.

It was a beautiful dream. And it sucked. It sucked because it wasn't reality. It sucked because Iggy, Avdol, and Noriaki were dead, and they were never coming back.

When you woke up that day, you almost couldn't get out of bed. Your bed was comfortable; it was safe. Your room was safe. Until it didn't feel safe anymore.

The dream didn't trigger the breakdown. It was stupid (a comment your therapist would scold you for), actually. It was a dog barking in your neighbor's garden. This past week, you noticed that your neighbors got a new puppy. Also, guess what? Of course, the fucking puppy had to be black and white. During that time, you repressed all memories of the group, apart from when they appeared in your dream. However, for some fucking dumbass reason, that dog just brought everything back.

Your chest tightened in that moment. You knew the feeling of having to cry, and although you didn't want to, the tears just came. Usually, that wouldn't be a problem. You could wipe the tears, take a breath, and go about your day. That day, you couldn't.

Everything made you angry. You were extremely frustrated, and when you looked into the mirror, you didn't see yourself; all you saw was failure. You saw yourself as an utter, embarrassing failure. A mess that couldn't protect your friends for the life of you. The sight pissed you off. You grabbed the mirror and smashed it on the ground; the glass was in pieces on your floor. When you turned around, you saw your desk, your homework from the day prior still being there. Fuck it, fuck school, fuck every single thing. You didn't deserve it. Why did you get to do your homework when Noriaki, who should have been able to do it, was now a rotting corpse inside of an ugly casket with a huge ass hole in his chest? Fuck no. You threw it all on the ground, enraged that you would even have the nerve to go about your life normally. You throwing your homework on the ground also caused your flower pot to smash into pieces, joining the mess. While you were at it, you thought, there was a polaroid of you and three of your friends from school that was taken during the last summer festival in your town. It was hung up on your closet door. You were smiling in the picture, holding up a peace sign with one hand and a small fan with the other. Just who the fuck did you think you were to believe you deserved any sort of fun? You threw your closet onto the ground as well, the wood cracking as it hit the floor, coating your clothes with wooden splinters.

At the same time, you couldn't stop crying. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Not only that, your usually silent hiccups turned into full-blown sobs, and your sobs started turning into screams. Your chest hurt, and it became difficult to breathe. You couldn't take a deep breath anymore; and to be honest, you weren't even sure if you were able to take a regular breath. Whenever you tried, a heartbroken sob would interrupt your attempt. Your inability to breathe made your heart pump faster in your chest, and it hurt. Everything hurt: your throat, your chest, your head, your hands. You were trembling but sweating, as if you ran a marathon; simultaneously, you felt cold as if you sat naked in fucking snow. You didn't know that it was a panic attack back then, you found that out when you went to therapy a few months later. At that moment, however, you felt as though you were dying.

"You're alive." Jotaro muttered when he saw you crouched in the corner that was opposite to your bed.

"I wish I wasn't." You replied with a hoarse voice.

"I know." was his reply as he sat down next to you on the ground. Jotaro usually never sat down on the ground.

You sat in silence until nighttime that day. He never left your side. And while he didn't hug you or tell you that everything would be okay, you felt safe.

You guys started talking about Egypt after that incident. Jotaro basically dragged you out of your broken-down room and to his place. Holy didn't ask questions for once when she saw you, which Jotaro appreciated.

That night, you opened up about how you felt about everything. Looking back, you know that it must have been really fucking hard for Jotaro to listen. Even though he acted like it didn't affect him that much, nowadays, you know how Jotaro felt, and still feels, about Egypt.

Weirdly enough, the trauma made you two bond even more than the entire Egypt trip. Your therapist says that is because the two of you share a traumatic experience that not many people can relate to.

Oh, yeah, your therapist. Jotaro told Joseph about your panic attack, who, in turn, made you go to the best therapist he could find in Japan. Your first therapist retired about ten years ago; now you have another one. Joseph, funnily enough, still pays for it, even though you're more than capable of footing the bill yourself. That senile old man forgets every single thing on this planet but somehow never forgets to pay that bill every month.

Your therapist got the same story your parents did: a car accident with your research group. Three of your squad members died; you got critically injured; yada yada. They helped you, though. Ever since you started, you have learned to deal with your emotions better. You also haven't destroyed your room since going.

Back to the past and how you and Jotaro bonded, though. Not only did you smoke cigarettes together during your lunch breaks at school, you met up a lot in private. You hung out and read manga together in silence. Often times you also played video games, a habit you two picked up after Noriaki died. Noriaki loved video games.

You learned to appreciate Jotaro a lot. You often stayed over at his place and learned about some of the things he was passionate about. Contrary to popular belief at school, Jotaro was extremely intelligent and started taking his studies seriously after Egypt. Often times, he was even top of the class when it came to his exams. He was also super into marine life, something you noticed when you visited his room for the first time. When you asked him to tell you about it, he didn't shut up for about two hours. You've never heard so many words come out of Jotaro's mouth, like, ever.

And while you were oblivious to it at first, he slowly started to occupy your thoughts.

It came gradually, your crush on Jotaro. At first, it was just you missing him on days you weren't hanging out together. Then, your heartbeat picked up when you spoke to him or saw him. You started to feel giddy when you met up and you started dreaming of him.

It was super fucking embarrassing.

But it also felt super fucking good to love Jotaro. You weren't going to say shit, though. Ever.

Your dynamic never changed. You and Jotaro were practically glued at the hip at some point. It was obvious that you were going to follow Jotaro to the USA for college when he proposed that he wanted to study marine biology in Florida.

When you and him went, you got an apartment from Joseph as a gift. The two of you were supposed to be roommates all throughout college. And, honestly, you hoped to be roommates for the rest of your life.

It was fun being roommates. It really was. Freshly eighteen and graduated, the two of you entered your apartment and lived to the fullest. You cooked together, watched movies, played video games, and, of course, you were there for each other when it was needed.

Even though the two of you were in therapy, night terrors were still frequent enough at that time. It was always the same pattern. One of you would wake up from the nightmare, wake the other up to talk and then you would go into the living room and talk about it, or just cry.

One of these nights was also the first time Jotaro hugged you.

Jotaro was the one with a night terror that time. The two of you were sat on the couch in the living room as he talked to you about Noriaki appearing in his dreams. You listened, as you usually did, and that was all he needed. He knew you understood, and he knew you were there. This exact stability gave both of you comfort. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and just held you. He didn't say anything, and you didn't think he needed to.

Although, looking back, you definitely interpreted that hug wrong. While it made your heart flutter, to Jotaro, it was nothing more than showing appreciation.

Jotaro introduced you to his girlfriend about three years after the two of you moved to the US. She was a lovely girl, blonde, perfect figure, beautiful face and a disgustingly sweet personality. All in all; she was the perfect package, and she looked fucking perfect next to your perfect, perfect Jotaro. Shit.

You wish you could say you hated her guts, but you couldn't.

You couldn't hate her, because Jotaro loved her. He loved her more than words could describe, and you knew it. You knew from his eyes, from his body language and from the way he talked about her.

Oh, and if all of that wasn't enough, he got her pregnant about a year after they got together, and the two of them got married in the same year (her parents insisted—they were very religious). If you look at their wedding pictures, you could see the bump under her dress. If you look at the wedding pictures again, you'll see yourself standing next to Jotaro with a big smile on your face. You're a great actress, you've got to give yourself that credit.

You moved out of the apartment about a month before Jotaro's daughter was born. They needed the space, and you didn't want to trouble the newlyweds with moving, so you sucked it up and left the apartment you called home for three years. Joseph was generous, as you'd come to notice. He had a single-bedroom apartment that he gifted you, and he claimed that it wouldn't feel right to him if you had to rent, especially as a college student. You took it, obviously.

Jolyne was a beautiful little girl. Jotaro made you her godmother; no questions asked. After he got married and had a kid, you'd think the two of you would lose touch, but no. Jotaro made sure to call you at least once a day and insisted on weekly meetups. You don't know if that was because he got so used to you that he couldn't live without your presence or because he knew that solitude made you spiral mentally, but you appreciated his efforts nonetheless. It felt good to be around Jotaro, even if it hurt to see him live a life you've been fantasizing of having with him.

Most importantly, however, you were a rock in Jotaro's life that he couldn't live without, and that feeling was mutual. Your therapist would call it an unhealthy attachment, but neither of you cared. You needed each other close.

"You're stressed." Your eyes locked with Jotaro's just a moment prior. The blue hue in them was as bright as ever, but his expression, the small furrow of his brow, and the slight twitch of his left nostril gave him away.

"Fucking figured that out from just a look? Good grief." He sighed as he averted his gaze. Jotaro couldn't pull his hat down to hide his embarrassment, as he would usually do. Ever since he got together with his wife, she asked him to take it off when they were home.

"I've lived with you for years, Jotaro. I can even figure out when you're about to shit your pants because you had a fucking McDonald's milkshake. Spit it out; what's bothering you?"

"She has the birthmark. I.. Fuck, I can't even sleep anymore." Jotaro and you were sitting on his balcony while you were taking a smoke. He stopped that habit before Jolyne was born, but picked it back up a few months later. He rubbed his temple as he closed his eyes.

"You're scared that this pawn of DIO's, that he wrote about in his diary, is gonna hunt her down one day, huh?" You replied, your eyes still locked on his form.

"I am. Yeah. Fucking terrified, actually. I never would've thought I'd become a softie like this."

"That's the parental instinct, Jotaro. It's love. You understand your mom a little better now, huh?"

"I do. I was a fucking bitch to her back then."

"You still are a bitch, you know?" You joked, putting out your now-finished cigarette.

"Shut the fuck up." He shook his head, though his lips were curled in a very small smile. He did this more often, ever since Jolyne was born.

"You know damn well you don't want me to shut up."

"You're right. I don't."

It was a Saturday night in 1999 when Jotaro rang you out of your sleep to tell you to join him on a trip back to Japan. He had to pay his uncle a visit. Yeah, uncle. Apparently, Joseph cheated on Suzie Q with a college student back in the early eighties. The Kujo/Joestar family was sort of a mess for a while afterwards.

The person you felt the most sorry for was Josuke, the kid. He was pulled into all of this for no reason.

Jotaro asked you to join him because he "needed your assistance" to track some enemy stand users who used an arrow that turned other people into stand users. You knew that he didn't need your help, but he wanted to get you out of your house. You remember that you felt like shit at that time, because your long-term boyfriend broke up with you. His reasoning was that he didn't feel like he was the love of your life and he wasn't wrong about that. You loved him, you really did, but he wasn't Jotaro. The love of your life would forever be Jotaro, no matter how many people you tried to date as a desperate attempt to dull the ache that your heart was consumed by every day. And, of course, you accepted Jotaro's offer to go together. You always would.

Morioh was an experience, to say the least.

Not only were there more Stand users than you'd ever seen in your life, it was also a strangely wholesome journey.

Josuke was a great kid, and so were his friends. The bond between everyone really warmed your heart, and you were happy that you got to be part of it. Although you had to admit that you certainly weren't prepared to find and fight an actual serial killer, who was, of course, a Stand user as well. Looking back at it, though, the kids were very reliable, Josuke almost defeated that Kira guy all by himself after all.

Josuke, Okoyasu, and Koichi also caused some embarrassing tension between you and Jotaro at some point.

"Ya know, it's actually super cute." Josuke grinned at you.

"What is?" You paused and set down your coffee cup. It was your last few days in Morioh, and you were at a café the kids frequented. Jotaro and you sat next to each other while Koichi, Okoyasu, and Josuke sat across from you. Joseph was also there with Shizuka, the baby he and Josuke found.

"The two of you. Why didn't y'all tell us you were married?" Okoyasu commented with a pout.

Jotaro and you exchanged looks with a raised brow. Then it clicked: Jotaro was wearing his ring.

"It's because we're not married." Jotaro deadpanned.

"Oh." All three of them got quiet. "We just.. We thought you were because of, uhm.. the ring. Sorry." Josuke averted his gaze.

"Don't worry, Josuke. I mean, the big, mean guy doesn't really talk much about his family. Do you guys even know he has a kid?"

You successfully changed the subject by bringing up Jolyne back then. The guys drilled Jotaro to tell them everything, and although he was never a big talker, he did talk about Jolyne. He adored her; everyone knew so. Jotaro's eyes lit up just a tiny bit whenever he could tell people about her. The subject change allowed you to stay for a few minutes before you made up an excuse to leave the guys. When you left the café, you immediately went to the cemetery. Coincidentally, Morioh was Noriaki's hometown and also his resting place.

You had never mustered up the courage to visit Noriaki's grave before. It felt weird, looking at the stone with his name, but regardless, you sat down in front of the grave and spoke to him. To anyone else, you probably looked like a maniac. You couldn't tell anyone else about your feelings for Jotaro and you figured Noriaki would enjoy an update on your life after twelve years, even if it was sort of depressing as fuck.

It felt liberating, telling Noriaki everything. Even if he wasn't physically in front of you, you felt as though he was right there, listening to every single word you had to say, and by the end of your monologue, you were crying.

What you didn't expect was Joseph standing next to you after you had been crying like a bitch at Noriaki's grave for a while. You jolted when he said your name.

"You know, the only reason you two didn't end up together was Jolyne, right? He loves you, but he's terrified of losing you." His older, raspy voice spoke softly.

"How would you even know that?" You questioned the old man, but you didn't make eye contact with him. Your eyes were glued to Noriaki's gravestone.

"Because I know what it looks like when you're someone's whole world. You're his world, and he can't lose that. Being your friend is easier than taking the risk of the two of you ever breaking up in the future."

Joseph's words made you cry again. They hurt even more than if Jotaro ever rejected you personally, because they meant that it was hopeless. No matter what, you could never, ever be with him.

Jotaro got divorced from his wife in 2002, three years after Morioh. By that time, you were a successful lawyer in a big firm, while Jotaro was a big researcher in marine biology; he even got a doctorate. You and him hadn't seen each other in a month at that point. Both of you were busy; Jotaro was often on trips for either the Speedwagon foundation, because of possible clues regarding that one friend of DIO's, or he was doing actual research regarding his job. You were busy because you thought that drowning yourself in work would help you move on from him. Spoiler alert; it didn't.

The way you found out about the divorce was when Jotaro showed up at your doorstep one day with a big suitcase in his hand.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You'd gotten home half an hour prior, so you were still dressed in your work attire.

"We filed for divorce. Can I move in for a while?" He asked, though; he had already made his way into your house. He knew you wouldn't say no.

And you didn't. You guys lived together for about five years after he moved in. He even paid half of the bills, and you almost felt like you did when you guys were still living together in college.

Living together with Jotaro was easy; it was warm, and it also fucking sucked. You couldn't avoid your feelings when the two of you were together all the time. Everything felt too fucking domestic, and it made you want to cry.

Jotaro was the perfect roommate; he made you guys breakfast whenever he wasn't on a trip. He cleaned up the house when you were working late; he went grocery shopping. Fuck, he even knew when you would be on your period and made sure you were stacked up on pads and painkillers. Since you only had one big bathroom in your rather small house, he kept the door open while he shaved his stubble, so you could brush your teeth and do your makeup for the day. You guys were basically acting like a married couple, except for the legal status and the romantic aspect.

You noticed that Jotaro wasn't truly happy, though, and you knew why. After getting divorced, Jotaro essentially abandoned Jolyne. The reason why Jotaro and his wife got divorced was because his ex was tired of him rarely being home. She lost feelings for him along the way and gave him the divorce papers about two days before he showed up at your doorstep. The divorce didn't hit Jotaro as hard, he told you. What did hit him was that he didn't see Jolyne much. They maybe saw one another once every two or three months. You felt sorry for her; the divorce hurt that beautiful girl and your heart broke for her. You visited Jolyne and her mother a lot, even after the divorce, because you wanted her to still have a small constant in her life. You supported her whenever you could. However, Jotaro asked you to not bring her to the house. He started distancing himself from her, because he was growing anxious the older she got. DIO's friend and the diary never left Jotaro's mind and he simply didn't want Jolyne to be in danger. You understood, so, slowly, you started distancing yourself too.

It was 2007 when Jotaro asked you to move back to Japan with him. Jolyne, who was 14 at the time, got arrested for car theft. Jotaro pulled the harshest dick move he could and told his ex-wife that he wasn't going to help her bail Jolyne out and that he got a job offer as a professor at Tokyo University, which he accepted. His ex didn't even have time to cuss him out before he hung up the phone. Jotaro had ultimately abandoned his daughter, and even if he tried to play tough, he was devastated because he didn't want to leave her behind.

Why did you know that? Well, Jotaro still had night terrors. So, of course, your old tradition of going to the living room to talk it out had been picked up again. Jotaro hated himself for abandoning Jolyne, but he kept saying that he'd rather cut all ties with her to keep her safe than watch her die in front of him. You agreed with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself either, if you were in his shoes.

Of course you agreed to follow him back to Japan; you'd follow him anywhere he went anyway; he didn't even need to ask. Home is where he is. Even if it meant quitting your job at the law firm.

You were more at ease in Japan anyway. It's home. Plus, you got to visit Josuke and the others in Morioh more often, and, of course, Noriaki's grave. The kids grew up a lot in the years you haven't seen them. Josuke got his doctorate to become a surgeon, Koichi worked as a criminal psychologist, and Okoyasu got a job as a police officer. Oh, and Koichi and Yukako got engaged. Yeah, they certainly weren't kids anymore.

When you moved back, Jotaro and you decided to move in together again. It proved useful with the bills, and you got used to one another's presence anyway. You definitely weren't complaining about spending more time with him. After he accepted the position as a professor, he had more time on his hands compared to when he worked in research. He was still trying to hunt down DIO's little buddy, though. Still, it wasn't as bad as before, and he was home a lot more.

You got a new job in the American Consulate of Japan about six months after moving back with Jotaro. It was pretty boring, but the bills got paid. During work, you always looked forward to the evenings when you got home, because usually Jotaro would have a meal prepared for the two of you. You started eating dinner together every night after some time. It was always one of you waiting for the other one to get home, then you would heat up the food and eat together, either in front of the TV, binging a show you liked, or you sat at the dinner table, where you would talk about anything and everything. It was nice seeing Jotaro let lose even if it was just a tiny bit.

It was about four months after moving to Japan when you and Jotaro began implementing a "besties day". It honestly was just a synonym for a date night, if you think back to it. The two of you would either go for a walk, go on a small road trip, or have dinner at a nice restaurant, and, at some point down the line, the energy between the two of you shifted. He started to put his arm around your shoulder while you'd watch a movie, and you'd play with his hand sometimes. You fell asleep on the couch so often that you guys just decided to sleep in the same bed and set up a TV in Jotaro's bedroom, your own bedroom basically turned into a room where you kept your clothes, nothing more.

It was on one of those evenings when you almost confessed your love to Jotaro.

You remember that the two of you were watching Zoolander on Jotaro's bed. He had his arm around your shoulder, and you were cuddled up to his side, his arm a heavy but welcome weight on your body. Jotaro was caressing your back as he stared at the TV, and his face got illuminated beautifully by the light of the TV. While Jotaro focused on the hilarious movie that played, your eyes were solely set on him. You took in how he had a few bags under his eyes, signaling that he was tired, and he wore his hair shorter compared to when you were teens, but the haircut complimented his face perfectly. From the side, his jawline and nose stood out to you. Jotaro had a light crook to his nose, but it looked good on him. Additionally, Jotaro was still a giant, muscular and tall (curse his amazing genetics and his gym habit.), just like when you were younger. Your heartbeat picked up in the moment, and you couldn't help but smile. Jotaro was so, so beautiful and you couldn't contain how happy all of this made you.

"You're so beautiful, Jotaro." You mumbled as you looked up to lock eyes with him.

"Where did that come from all of a sudden?" Jotaro stiffened for a moment, his eyes widening just slightly, before looking back at you.

"I dunno. I.. just felt the sudden need to let you know. I think you're so beautiful, Jotaro, I really do. Call me a sap or whatever, but I have never met a man as beautiful as you. Inside and out." You kept your eyes locked with his. Your words came from your heart and this would be the closest you could get to confessing your love to him without directly telling him.

Jotaro blushed just a hint, but you couldn't see it in the darkness. The movie might have lit up the room a tad, but it was not enough to make out the small pink hue on his cheek. He averted his eyes and pulled you closer to him while clearing his throat. There was a few minutes of silence before he spoke up.

"I think you're beautiful too."

You've never felt happier, but of course, it wasn't going to last.

It was January 21st of 2009 and you were just on your way out of a store. It would be Jotaro's birthday soon and you were out to shop for a present for him. You decided that a new watch would be appropriate, since he has been saying that he needed to get a watch soon. The watch you got was rather simple, a thick, silver wristband and the clock had blue details that accentuated the silver. Figuring silver would go perfectly with his skin tone, as it is more on the cool side, and the blue details would fit his eyes, you happily bought it for him and gripped the bag tightly when you left the store.

Since you were out late to avoid the massive rush-hour crowd, it was 10PM sharp when you reached the train station. You were alone and listening to music, when you noticed a figure close to where you were standing. It was a tall man you had never seen before, but you didn't really feel threatened by him. The man had long, white hair and sat on a bench, his eyes were entirely white, too and he held onto a cane. Thus, you figured he might be blind. You took out your phone, an iPhone 3G, a newly released phone that still shocked you. A touch screen was just super futuristic to you, considering you remember the old landline times. Geez, now you felt old. You sent out a text to Jotaro, telling him you're at the station and that you'd be home soon.

You waited for the train for roughly five minutes before you heard a loud bang, followed by a few more. A sharp pain spread throughout your body; first in your throat, then in your abdomen and in your legs, then you felt it in your shoulder. You heard the clunk of small metal pieces falling onto the floor.

You sink to the floor. You're falling into liquid, a lot of it pooling around you more and more by the second. You can't breathe, only gargling out because there is blood pooling in your mouth as well. It's cold, everything is cold. Your heart is pumping loudly in your chest and your head is getting foggier by the second. Did you really just get shot? But how? There was nothing there! You turn your head weakly, spitting blood out onto the pavement as you desperately try to inhale just a tiny bit of air. This can't happen. You can't die like this!

But you are.

You grab onto the bag you held in your hand tightly. The bag that carries Jotaro's birthday gift. Fuck, Jotaro? He's home, he's waiting for you. You have to call him, you have to get home to him! You can't leave him here, you can't go! You have to be there for him! Who will be there for him when you are gone? You have so much to say to him, you haven't even told him that you love him!

You look around. Your sight is getting increasingly foggy and your heart and lungs are burning. Everything is wet and hurts. Everything is hard. You're dying, you know you're dying. You're actively bleeding out in a random train station and you cannot do anything about it. You start to panic; your heart is picking up it's pace, and you choke on your own blood again.

All of a sudden, you hear Avdol's voice in the distance. Avdol? Why is Avdol speaking to you?

"Death is inevitable. Each one of us is going to die one day. I'm not scared of dying, no. If I live my life to the fullest, I will never have regrets, and if I have no regrets, I can die without worries. It's the only way to fight the fear of death- and let me give you this piece of advice; it's how you live a happier life."

You freeze. You have to call Jotaro, you have to call him right fucking now. Where the fuck is your god damn phone?! You spot it a few feet away from you, on the floor and try crawling your way towards it. As you do so, the blood keeps flooding out of your body, leaving a red, ugly trail on the white tiles of the station. Every move is excruciatingly painful, but you have to bite through it. Your only focus right now is calling Jotaro. You cannot leave this world before telling him.

You try crawling, but you can't go any further. Your limbs shake and you can't hold yourself upright anymore. Wait, that's it! Head in the Clouds! You haven't used it in years, but now, now you need it more than ever before. You called Head in the Clouds out to make it grab your phone; which it does, albeit slowly. Its grey, ghostly form mirrored your state. It was weak, but it still reached out to the small, square mobile device as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

It's just a few seconds, just a few more seconds, please! You keep repeating the word "please" in your head; you have to stay awake for just a few more seconds. You won't die here, you refuse to die here! There's so much more you want to do! You want to kiss Jotaro, you want to wake up next to him one more time! You want to hug him tight and go on another walk! You want to see his beautiful eyes reflected in the mirror as he shaves his face while you're brushing your teeth next to him! You can't go!

Avdol's words play in a loop in your head as you shakily try to unlock your tiny phone. Your bloody fingers smear the screen and your head keeps lulling to the side as you force yourself through these painful moments.

Avdol said you shouldn't have any regrets if you want to fight the fear of death. You have regrets, you're terrified of leaving this world.

You make it. You successfully dial Jotaro's number. You hear his voice on the other line.

"Hey, why are you calling? You just texted me. Everything okay?"

His voice. His beautiful, beautiful deep voice. God, you love his voice so much. It's such a warm sound for your soul. Never stop talking, Jotaro.

You spit out more blood as you try taking any sort of breath. Your voice is barely there as you choke out his name.

"J-Jo... Jota...ro.."

Jotaro calls out your name, his voice sounds serious now. Worried, even. You can't answer him. He calls out your name louder.

"This isn't fucking funny! What's wrong?! Are you okay?!"

Wow, he sounds like he's panicking. Or does he? You're not sure anymore. His voice is far away. You want him to keep saying your name, but not like this. You don't want him to worry, you want him to be happy. Will he be happy? Can he move on when you're gone? He has to. You know he won't have a choice.

Maybe it's better to die regretful than hurting him even more. He'll feel guilty, if you tell him you love him. He shouldn't feel guilty, you don't want him to. It's okay, you think. He doesn't need to know.

You muster up a big breath, your body feels light. It doesn't hurt anymore. You're still cold and it's wet, but it's okay. Your heartbeat slows down.

"J-Jojo.. I'm.. okay.. " He hates the name. You know he does. But it's easier on your voice right now.

"Where are you?! Are you still at the station?! Were you attacked?!"

He sounds scared. Please don't be scared, Jotaro. Please don't be scared for me, you think.

"'m.. okay. Don't-" you cough up a little more blood. "It's not your fault, Jojo.. It never was."

You won't tell him. He's scared. He will be hurting even more. You can't do that to him.

"What the fuck do you mean "not my fault"? Tell me where you are, please! Are you hurt?!" Jotaro's voice is cracking. He's yelling into the phone.

You can't feel your arm anymore and your eyes lose focus. Your phone drops to the floor, next to you, right into the crimson pool around you. Your head is pounding and you feel so, so tired. You can close your eyes for just a second, right?

You see Iggy in front of you when you open your eyes again. He's wagging his tiny tail as he bites your hand softly to wake you up. When you look around, you see Avdol, shaking his head slightly as he crosses his arms, but then he gives a small smile. Noriaki is crouching next to you and smiling sadly.

"I wish we didn't see you again this soon. But destiny has its own plans, huh?" Noriaki spoke. His voice was soft, so soft. He still sounds this same. You feel warmer, somehow and there's no wetness clinging onto your clothes anymore. Noriaki takes your hand as he helps you get up.

"Come on, we have to go."

"Go where?"

"To the other side"

You hesitate. But then Avdol takes your other hand and Iggy walks ahead of you guys with a joyful bark. Everything feels warm here, it's so nice.

"Okay."

So, you go. You disappear with the three of them and you feel happy. You don't mind having to wait in order to see Jotaro again one day.

It's January 31st of 2009 at 8PM when Jotaro stands in front of your gravestone. He brought you a bouquet of white roses, which he lays down gently at your resting place. He is wearing the watch you bought on the day you died. If you were still here, you'd probably be overjoyed to see him wearing it.

Joseph is next to him, the two men staring down at the cold stone.

"I loved her. I loved her more than anyone I have ever loved in my life." Jotaro speaks up after half an hour of just standing in front of your grave.

"I know." Joseph just replies, one hand on his cane and his other hand placed softly on Jotaro's shoulder. If you looked at the pair closely, you'd see Jotaro's shoulders shaking just a tiny bit.

Jotaro was the love of your life. But sometimes, destiny has other plans for people who truly love each other.

So, yeah, love really fucking sucks for Jotaro and you.

#jotaro x reader #jjba #jjba x reader #jotaro kujo #jojos bizarre adventure #heartbreak

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detectivebambam · 14 days

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For the choosing violence thing.

I curious about your thoughts on 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 16,17,18,19,20,21,22,23,24, and 25

(Your thoughts make my day tbh)

lol i gotchu pinky

the character everyone gets wrong: Dan. she's not a badass. i mean she is, but she's not. she's a scared little girl who had to raise herself and has no idea what she's doing at any given time and i love her for it

why andrew would never top or bottom: actually he does both, and tends to enjoy it. kind of an agressive top but Neil likes it, and sometimes likes to follow orders when he bottoms 🫣 i think they do anything and everything with each other. Neil could be dominant or submissive at any given time, which gives Andrew space to learn about what he actually enjoys. He finds that as long as it involves Neil, he doesn't mind

worst tumblr take I've seen: that Andrew was a misogynist because he doesn't like being manipulated, and "manipulation is a woman's weapon" like how is THAT not misogynistic be so real

why did you block that annoying person?: kept saying that Kevin abused Riko as much as Riko abused Kevin. don't know how far they had to reach into the depths of their asshole to find that one, i just hope they didn't get stuck

i don't have discord

which ship fans are the most annoying: y'all are going to absolutely murder me for this but kevaaron. 1) where did it come from? 2) what's wrong with Katie?? 3) no hate ship what u want but also, i can ship what i want? and it's fine it's literally fine

what character did you start to hate because of fanon: i hate to say it but Thea. i adored her when I read the books originally, but after 4 years of exclusively fanon content i didn't like her. but i did a reread recently and adore her again so it's all good

common fandom opinion everyone is wrong about: Andrew being a sex god. Neil is his first consensual sexual partner. like yeah he knows how to suck dick like a dying man, which he learned in juvie (when he was 13-16?) but in terms of sex? he doesn't know what he's doing and he's probably really scared and nervous

worst part of canon: kevin and thea turning their daughter into a mini Raven 😔

worst part of fanon: Renee erasure 😔😔

fandom related words you've filtered: as of currently? anything tsc related because I don't have access to it yet and people aren't tagging properly. but I also have Rinee (rixo x renee) blocked because,,, what do you actually mean

unpopular character you like and why people should like them: Aaron. yeah he's an asshole and a little homophobic but he was raised that way and he's getting better

worst blorboification: if this means what i think it means, fucking riko. like wdym "he serves cunt" he needs to serve time

answered prev

you can't understand why this is popular: kevaaron, any riko ship, riko himself, ichirou x neil, andreil breaking up in fics ?

there should be more of this: fic: oral fixation. sexual or non sexual idc but let's Freud these bitches. fanart: ANDREW WITH LONG HAIR PLS PLS PLS

it's criminal that y'all have been sleeping on: STUART HATFORD. LITERALLY NEXT TO WYMACK ON THE FATHER FIGURE SCALE. I LOVE HIM

you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like: i don't feel guilt I'm Presbyterian

part of canon you found boring: anytime they were in class like wdym

part of canon you think is overhyped: this one is going to get me in trouble so i wanna start off by saying that yes, Riko was a victim of abuse. I'm not disputing that at all. but the part where he got beat by Tetsuji and "was more blood and bruise than skin", while being horrible, was also because of Kevin leaving due to Riko breaking his hand. Tetsuji lost one of his biggest investments because of Riko's petty ego

fav part of canon that everyone ignores: Stuart Hatford man

ship you've unwillingly come around to: Kandreil lol. i didn't like it at first but idk the more fanfic i see I'm like yeah that could be cute

topic that brings up the most rancid discourse: picture this, if you will: Nora Sakavic says something about her own damn characters. yeah that's all

common fandom complaint you're sick of hearing: "it's poorly written" it's not. if you can get over the first chapter of The Raven King, the rest is actually written very well and it's so so beautiful and depicts traumatized characters in a way I haven't seen before that is very refreshing

ty for the ask pinky ily

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anghraine · 2 months

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Revisiting my very old P&P fic!

So I didn't initially remember which fic had the Jane-Darcy scene, only that it was an early one, so I went to AO3 and looked at some of my very early fics to refresh my memory before realizing it was Season of Courtship all along.

I only mention this because it was a bit entertaining to re-visit my old P&P fic (despite the very uneven prose) because they were weird and often melodramatic but are still recognizably mine. Like:

Left to Follow: my first Austen fic ever and it's largely trolling. Darcy has apparently cheated on his wife, who has returned home to her father and family with her sickly baby. It's from the perspective of her father. The twist, revealed at the end, is that Darcy is actually the sickly baby and the POV character is his grandfather the earl. (This originally grew into a much longer and more meandering fic than the AO3 version but it kind of sucked, so I only cross-posted the first part.)

Sword and Sorcery: a vaguely tongue-in-cheek series of vignettes in a fantasy AU. Wickham is a vampire, Elizabeth has plant powers of some kind, Georgiana is unexpectedly a necromancer, and Darcy is an empath and has become so overconfident about his (genuinely very strong) abilities that he doesn't seriously think about why he's not picking up much from Jane (it's because she is also an empath and naturally resistant to his powers) or even bother trying to read Elizabeth properly until she rejects him.

Catalyst: a twist on the then-popular fanon of Darcy only really seeing the truth of Elizabeth's criticisms by talking about the Hunsford fight with a cousin like Colonel Fitzwilliam who advocates for Elizabeth's righteousness. In the fic, Darcy does end up talking about it with a cousin (Fitzwilliam's sister) who takes his side in such a forceful classist way that he realizes he sounded like that to Elizabeth.

Such Terms of Cordiality: a chaotic cluster of AU premises. Lady Anne and Mr Bennet used to be in love but she was persuaded away Anne Elliot-style and married Darcy's father instead (their respective children know nothing about this). Darcy and Elizabeth meet at Ramsgate the summer before the novel begins and fall in love with little complication. Jane is not in love with Bingley and struggling with the pressure to be. Lady Anne is still alive. Mr Bennet is opposed to Darcy/Elizabeth and she ends up confronting him about it. I had planned for it to be a reverse-forced marriage scenario, where Darcy and Elizabeth end up married without their canonical character growth and have to grow within marriage, but it's entirely voluntary (I never got that far).

Season of Courtship: my most popular fic even now and easily the most normal thing from that time (it does have some of the melodrama, but it's just about the canon engagement period).

The Widow: Tom Bertram falls in love with a widowed Elizabeth Darcy.

Incumbrance of Mystery: a cracky murder mystery in which Georgiana gets murdered.

Claims to Reputation: probably my personal favorite of these, but it's not quite a fair comparison because I revised it pretty comprehensively later on. It's an unfinished epistolary fic in which Lydia and Wickham's two eldest children, Bess and George, attempt to scheme and maneuver their way into fortune by exploiting their Bennet connections, confiding their true feelings and motives only in their letters to each other. Bess (the more calculating and amoral of the two) is largely successful with Collins's and Charlotte's mediocre son, while George falls genuinely in love with Elizabeth and Darcy's beautiful but extremely withdrawn and wary daughter. He, however, is hampered by the suspicion of pretty much everyone.

It's basically just this flurry of letters around the whole (double) business from everyone connected with it except Miss Darcy; you have to extrapolate what she really feels about it from the (deeply biased) perspectives we get from everyone else. There are also some references to Bess and George's younger sister, Bella, being a sort of inverted Fanny Price—she's the poor relation/niece raised at Mansfield Pemberley, but has been treated much more gently than Fanny ever was and is integrated into the family.

It was odd and challenging and fun!

#the most out there premise is undoubtedly subsequent connections (which i would never have thought of on my own)#(the idea came from a different fic and i was like 'hmm interesting concept! it might be fun to do it like this...')#but that one does seem to be a bit later than these #probably because i drastically overhauled it later though #anghraine babbles #fic talk #austen blogging #austen fanwank #fic talk: left to follow #fic talk: sword and sorcery #fic talk: catalyst #fic talk: such terms of cordiality #fic talk: season of courtship #fic talk: comforts and consequences #courtship #comforts and consequences #long post

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salmalin · 6 months

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I Wanna Talk About "Comments"

IMG ID: Yknow go figure you’d abandon this for a popular fandom… goes to show you just write for attention and instant gratification. May as well just delete this. It’s clogging up space. To do all this and walk away for mainstream games is so typical for people like you who claim to be in it for the art. You’re in it for the ratio, you’re in it for your massive ego, so just delete it.

I've been getting a few comments like this lately, and this one is honestly the least biting, but I've been seeing enough of them that I've decided to post this.

I've already deleted this "Named" Anon Comment off the fic, and I'm not going to reply to them, but I wanted to take a moment to talk about this mentality, and why comments like this make no sense.

Basically: They're angry that I'm taking a break from this fic from a small fandom—a fic they've never interacted with—while I'm also writing another story for another fandom that happens to be bigger. This bigger fandom fic has (despite being in first-person with a non-linear storytelling style, famously hated formats) gained a bit of attention. Which is fine. That happens.

So let's talk about why this comment sucks, and why it fails at every level to be any form of criticism, constructive or otherwise.

"abandon this for a popular fandom" Everyone can see that this fic is marked as incomplete. Whoever this is, they chose to click on an incomplete fic that hasn't been updated in eight months—only eight months. A drop in the bucket, really, and the time I went between chapter 5 and chapter 6 was over a year. This is on them. They do not get to put this on the writer. At any point they could have stopped. At any point, they could have closed the fic. They knew this from the get-go. They did not. This was their decision, and they're trying to blame me for their despair. They made it through 245k before they reached this point, and I know because they commented on the last chapter specifically.

"you just write for attention and instant gratification" "Instant"? I don't think this person knows how writing works. Like, on a fundamental level. This story started getting posted in 2020, with my most recent update this year (2023), and they think writing and posting something is looking for "instant gratification". Bold to assume this is "instant". (Bold to assume we have any control over it at all.)

"May as well delete this. It's clogging up space." AO3 is only limited by its server size, and my fic is a drop in the bucket. It is not taking up much in the way of space. Besides, just because something is unfinished does not mean it doesn't belong on AO3. That's why you're allowed to upload chapter by chapter. That is a critical function of the website. It's also an archive, which means it's designed to hold information, finished or unfinished. Again, shame on the reader.

"You're in it for the ratio; you're in it for your massive ego." These are not only assumptions, but if this person is really so opposed to the idea of people doing things for attention, they should ignore children when they need food, only read published novels that are obviously written in a desperate grab for money, and never go on AO3 ever again. If writers didn't want attention, they wouldn't post online for free because they'd just keep it to themselves. And if commenters didn't want attention, they wouldn't comment. (But then would we even have a fandom, if no one's talking to anyone else?) Is this the attention they wanted? Probably. I've found that people like this seem to thrive on the misery they inflict on others.

If y'all care to know why this person was so abysmally wrong in this specific context: (if not, just skip to the end of the list.)

This fic that they're complaining I left for a bigger fandom? I actually left that bigger fandom for this fic. That "bigger fandom" was the first video game I was ever obsessed with. It was 1997, and I wasn't even allowed to touch the console. My brother destroyed the final disc in a fit of rage. I've never even beaten the final boss. It has been 26 years, and for a solid 15 of them I was desperately trying to figure out what I wanted to write for the pairing that changed my life. This fic that they're complaining about me "abandoning" Fires of War for has been rolling around in my brain for longer than the media for Fires of War has even existed. In fact, when you search my username here on tumblr, an ask I sent another user laying this out is essentially the first thing you see. (At least, right now.) In fact, my current user pic is from Fires of War. I did not change it because there's no need to.

Fires of War is actually still in progress, and they would have known this if they read the other comments on the same chapter they complained on. I originally took a break from FoW due to stress, and because no matter what I tried, the next chapter just wasn't working. After a break, I realized why—the outline was broken and needed to be adjusted. Meanwhile, the other fic I'm working on to relieve that stress is much, much easier to write. In my eyes, it's much lower quality, as well. It requires fewer stages of editing. The words flow easily because they're much closer to my speaking voice. I'm not constantly researching cultures I know little about for fact checking and world building and (I shit you not) intercontinental politics. (I once researched the GDP, climate, and economy of Spain in 1986 for several hours and proceeded to have a three hour debate with my editor about a plot point. Yes. Three hours.) Oh, and I don't have to write anything in Iambic Fucking Pentameter. (Yes, that's a thing in Fires of War. They are complaining that I "abandoned" a story that has bits of dialog in god-forsaken Iambic Pentameter. Even at my peak, I wrote 8k in two weeks. But with my current "popular" fic, I can whip out 14k in one. That's how much easier it is.)

I want to turn those "ratio" stats off. I've mentioned this to people a few times, actually—I wish there was a way to turn all stats off on the Archive. They actually give me anxiety. I don't want to know how many comments are on my fic, or kudos are on a little obscure piece. I think that information should only be accessible to the writer, like Tumblr follow counts.

Literally talk to me for three seconds and you will be sick of how into the art of it I am. Holy shit, I cannot shut up. I will include required reading. I will rant about the details I put in for plotlines ten chapters out. I will give you a crash course in tone, word choice, and counting verbs. And yes, I count verbs! Holy fuck I am autistic as hell and this is my special interest. I love writing so much. It's my favorite thing in the world. Please stop my I CAN'T STOP I LOVE WRITING SO MUCH GOD IT'S THE ONLY THING THAT KEEPS ME FUCKING SANE. So you can imagine how misguided I think someone is when they say I'm not into the art of it. It just exposes them as someone who doesn't know what art is.

I'm a hermit who doesn't really go online much aside from using Discord as a free texting app because for some reason every texting app I've gotten has been broken. I legit do not like attention. I talk to like four people a day outside of work. I don't even like it when people complement me too much. Even if I went above and beyond, just one sentence is more than enough and move on, please. It's good to know my actions have had positive consequences, because that's crucial for my brain processing said consequences so I can continue said action in the future because I know I didn't do something wrong, but repeated praise makes me uncomfortable. It took me a long time to understand this about myself. This seems antithetical at first, but I do like the comments that break down the themes, execution, etc. in my fics. If they're breaking things down, moving to point to point about parts they enjoyed, there are giving me critical feedback. They tell me what thy enjoyed, and what was picked up. It's extremely useful feedback to know what they enjoyed, and what stood out to them. It helps me write better stories on the future, and hones how I get my point across. Besides, what is art that doesn't spark innovation and thought? It is forgotten.

The strongest hate is born of love—misguided though it may be—and this person has made that clear. Obviously they care about this fandom or they never would have commented like this. But if they knew more about people and less about what they want everyone to give them, maybe the spaces around them would be safer for the people in their lives—or the people they brush against online.

Comments like this often make people not want to write their fic.

Thankfully, I'm actually am in it for the art, so they might be going out of their way to make the lives of everyone around them miserable, but they haven't achieved their goal here.

However, there are a lot of writers who critically need feedback; who need this positive reinforcement. It's also why it's so important to tell writers why you enjoy their work. Even if it's something small like "I like your word choice" or "I really liked this line" or "I can't wait to find out how they resolve this"—that's feedback more valuable than we can really quantify.

"I like your word choice."—The way you pay attention to the words you use is working with the tone.

"I really like this line."—The way this line is formatted is very memorable and hits better than the others. It may be good to pay attention to it to find out why.

"I can't wait to find out how they resolve this."—You have gotten a good grade in suspense, a thing that is possible and reasonable to achieve (or however that meme goes).

I am constantly learning. I am constantly growing and changing as a person and a writer, and other people are critical to this. Sitting in a room and shouting will not make you better at making jokes, and shoving your writing in a corner never to see the light of day will never give you the tools to communicate with other people.

Sometimes I feel like people like this *points to the top of the page* don't want to learn that lesson, because of the painful reckoning with their actions it will entail.

If this is you, or you have done something similar, I recommend going through, finding your old comments, and deleting them yourself, or even apologizing if you can. Clean up your own mess, so people like me don't have to do it for you. This is a public space. Act like it.

#my fic: fires of war #my fic: takemeout #fandom wank #fandom

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eddiemunsonfix · 2 years

Text

37 Dialogue Prompts from my favorite movie of all time “10 Things I Hate About You”

not because I think they’d be great for Eddie Munson fics

1.) “Well, maybe you’re not afraid of me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked, huh?”

2.) “Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want.”

3.) “I don’t like to do what people expect. Why should I live up to other people’s expectations instead of my own?”

4.) “I want you to stop trying to control my life just because you can’t control yours!”

5.) “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be, you know.”

6.) “That’s a touching story. It really is… Not my problem.”

7.) “Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?”

8.) “You’re not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”

9.) “I was watching you out there before. I’ve never seen you look so sexy.”

10.) “I’m getting trashed man, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at a party?

11.) “Is it me or does this party all of a sudden suck?”

12.) “Then I’d have to start taking out girls that actually like me.”

13.) “Well, you’ve found the perfect revenge. Mainlining tequila.”

14.) “You don’t strike me as the type that would ask your father for permission.”

15.) “The only thing people know about me is that I’m scary.”

16.) “You know, you’re not as vile as I thought you were.”

17.) “Have you always been this selfish?”

18.) “Just ‘cause your beautiful, that doesn’t mean you can treat people like they don’t matter.”

19.) “Yeah babe, what do we owe you for the table dance?”

20.) “You’re not as badass as you think you are.”

21.) “Don’t think for one second that you had any affect on my panties.”

22.) “Tell me something true. Something real, something no one else knows”

23.) “You are amazingly self assured. Has anyone ever told you that?”

24.) “Go to the prom with me.”

25.) “So now I need to have a motive to want to be with you?”

26.) “Everyone was doing it so, I did it.”

27.) “I warned him that if he told anyone, the cheerleading squad would find out how tiny his dick is.”

28.) “You were paid to take me out by the person I hate most?”

29.) “You are so not who I thought you were.”

30.) ”Some asshole paid me to take out this really great girl.”

31.) “It’s not everyday you find a girl who’ll flash someone to get you out of detention.”

32.) “You’re sweet, and sexy, and completely hot for me.”

33.) “You’re asking me out? That’s so cute! What’s your name again?”

34.) “I guess, in this society, being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time.”

35.) “Do you even know my name, screw-boy?”

36.) “She used to be really popular, and then it was like… she got sick of it or something.”

37.) “A girls room is very personal.”

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 20 days

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i am honestly so confused by your blog rn. how can you say that no one interacts with you or recognizes your work put into fics? you can go to your masterlist or archive and clearly see many comments, reposts, and recs of your work. half the time you respond to someone is you bitching you’re not in the fandom anymore or you’d never write for the characters again. i have seen pages long compliments and breakdowns and reblogs for stories and characters you hate the next moment later. there are many writers that want to have as much interaction u get and actually love their long term fandoms.

accurate depiction of me reading this

there is a big difference between saying 'no one interacts with me' and saying 'no one recognizes the work that I put into fics'

I acknowledge that plenty of people interact with my fics. And that is nice. But in a sense, that is - part of the problem? (Because it becomes a quantity over quality thing, and as I have said many times before - I dread having a popular fic and I hate writing for popular fandoms.) (But also, I cannot control what my brain is interested in, so I do end up writing for popular fandoms.) (Also, I unconsciously hate it when a bunch of people show up for one fic but not for another, because I know that people are not there for my writing and my style, there are just there for the smut or for the character - which is totally understandable, but then - why follow my blog?)

One of my biggest complaints is: people do not recognize the amount of hard work that goes into writing, editing, and polish a fic in order to post it. From the concept of the idea to posting - people don't know how hard it is. And this does go back to the writer to reader ratio, and so many other things.

I am still fully of the belief that people do not understand at a core level how much work goes into the kind of fanfiction I write - especially when battling chronic illness in order to write at least one fic per month. I keep thinking about what Crane said to Dick in S3:

Sprezzatura. The ability to make something very difficult look very effortless.

I think that I have that when it comes to writing fanfiction. I know that I have a lot of talent and skill when it comes to the particular genre of fics that I write, and I know that in terms of the original idea to the end product - most of my fics turn out how I want them to, so I would say that they were pretty flawless.

So I make writing a good fic look pretty easy. When it is not at all easy for me. It is very hard. And if you compared the amount of unfinished drafts (and even just ideas that are in my head that will never get written and have never even made it to paper) to the amount of finished fics I have, then my success rate is about - 20%, probably closer to 10%. But I haven't calculated it exactly.

But you guys never get to see what I consider my failures. (And when you do, I try to ignore the existence of those fics.) (And generally, I just consider my failures to be unfinished fics.)

Basically, what I'm trying to say is - you don't see all the struggle I go through in order to get a finished, well polished fic in front of your eyes. So that is one thing.

The other major thing is - apparently I change fandoms too much? Which I didn't even think was a fucking issue. I mean I knew it annoyed some people, but I didn't care. Because I can't force myself to write fanfiction for a fandom that my brain doesn't care about - because those fics would take months longer, and they would suck. Due to burnout and my own disinterest.

Saying that 'half the time' I respond to comments, it's me saying that I'm not in the fandom anymore (like... it sounds like someone is salty that I haven't written for their fandom in a while?) - like dude, sorry, I'm not one of those fucking blogs writing AUs that are 7 times removed from the original source material, delusional pretending that I'm still writing about the canon characters when those are just OCs wearing name tags in an effort to keep myself interested in popular characters. (If writing that kind of fanfiction actually makes other people happy, then good for them - but to me, it always feels like a lifeless bid to keep their blog in the spotlight and to keep their followers' eyes on them with the names of popular characters. But oh well.) I go where my creative juices take me. and that can be to very obscure characters (like characters from one-off horror movies) or to (sadly) very popular characters - where I will write three fics and then fuck off. I have always been multifandom.

Also I have NEVER said that I will 'never' write for certain characters again. The only time I have sworn off writing for certain fandoms completely is writing for kpop rpf. Other than that, all fandoms I have written for are still on the table for the future. Like - what the fuck?

I have also never said that I hate certain characters. And yes - I do tend to switch fandoms a lot, but it's due to my creative interests, and follow my autistic hyperfixations. Fanfiction isn't supposed to be forced like fucking homework. It is supposed to bring joy. And writing for a range of vastly different characters on an unpredictable schedule - brings me joy.

Also, the 'pages long' responses, often come from the same people over and over again, and shout out to them, they are fucking lovely !!!! Shout out to Rotten Anon, and @star-mum and @pikispixies and lately @sreidisms - who have been my biggest supporters. But 4 or 5 people consistently (and wonderfully) showing up to write essay comments on fics is not the same as 100s of people always leaving engaging comments all the time (which is what you seem to think I have on my blog??)

Like the ratio is fucked. Having over 1,000 followers or a fic getting over 500 likes and only getting 2 or 3 engaging comments per fic - is a very strange ratio. And I am not saying that everyone has to write a fucking essay, but if you ask me a question about the fic in the comments, I will literally wanna kiss you on the mouth nasty style, and I will appreciate it 10x more than you just saying 'your writing is good'.

and @nctzenkane is my biggest champion behind the scenes, my literal muse for most of the fics I have ever written (and he will probably be scathing when he reads your comment lmao)

also - two or three passive aggressive and selfish comments can ruin a fic and can douse my creativity, even if one person leaves a long, beautiful essay comment encouraging me. sadly, our human brains remember the negative more than the positive

and when people leave long essay comments, I try my hardest to respond in an engaging way (even when I am exhausted from my chronic illness, I try my hardest to engage them, even if respond to their comments can take hours of my time, which takes time away from writing more fics - I wanna show them how appreciative I am of their comments) - I have never once told someone to fuck off because I'm not in that fandom anymore. literally, show me the fucking receipts to back up your delusion. please

yes, other writers who have smaller blogs would love to have more comments on their fics, but they too would feel annoyed if all the comments they were getting were 'Part 2???' or felt like someone's personal vlog on their fic - commentating their personal issues with your fic (like it being immoral or unfinished) rather than talking to the actual person who wrote it - seemingly not even realizing that there is a person behind the fic who wrote it.

I don't want more comments on my fics. I want different ones. I don't need to be patted on the head and told my writing is good - yes, those comments are nice, but I can only say 'thank you' so many times before I feel like a plastic, fake bitch - I want to discuss the content of my fics. I want to discuss the plot. The only thing that is different about every single one of my fics is the plot - the themes, how the characters act. and that is what I want to disucss in the comments section. that is what I find mentally enriching.

the only reason I post my fics is so that people might find them and enjoy them and so that I can leave a lasting positive effect on this earth, and so that I can find some enjoyment in discussing the fucking story I worked so hard on.

so please - tell me what is so wrong with that

#anonymous #sundrop answers #fanfiction #discussion #about me

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jamiesfootball · 1 month

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🥐🌵🍓🍬🎱 -> any or all for your enrichment!!

All of this got long so under the cut to save people from scrolling it goes-

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

Not a reference (I don't think. I'll be real, I don't think I understand this question) but I sure do like that twink on tiktok what does the cooking

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

Please enjoy this nostalgia playlist of songs that have made me go 'how do I remember the fucking words to this' which I have appropriately named after a Celine Dion song.

There are two Celine Dion songs.

Toni Braxton is on it. So are The Cranberries.

The only two dudes to make the list are Boyz II Men and that guy from Sixpence None the Richer

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

Questions about unpopular fandom opinions always throw me for a loop. I'll go with saying that season 1 Jamie has more emotional maturity than people give him credit for, especially in regards to him and Keeley's breakup.

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

After spending most of my life daydreaming elaborate scenarios, I tried to write some of them down when I was like twelve.

They sucked so I went back to drawing fanart, which I was getting pretty good at.

Then when I was 15 I started writing some of them down again. They were pretty good, but wildly disconnected from canon in many cases. I would write down bits, discuss them with friends (who were writers writing things), and then go back to doing other things (mostly art). I still have some of those somewhere, I think.

Then when I was 20, an art major, I started to realize that fuck man, I sure do need something to do that isn't more fucking art. At that point, I had a pretty good idea for writing voice and structure, as I'd been voraciously reading fic for a decade. I wrote some things. It was fun. I went back to doing art.

Then in 2015 a friend and I went and saw this movie, The Man From UNCLE, and it was really really good. Between the two of us, she was more of the writer, but as we spun up a whole sequel/story together she asked if I wanted to write any of it. I said yes. She would write the first draft and I would fill out other scenes, and both of us would workshop and storyboard and bits we got stuck on. Occasionally I would add in entire sections of scenes to flesh things out.

2016, same friend and I start doing another co-writing thing but this time for The Musketeers (BBC show). This time there was a difference- instead of friend writing scenes and me adding bits, there would be entire scenes I'd write and then she'd come back in and edit/add bits.

Then some real life stuff happened and I stopped writing.

Then I briefly got into batman and wrote some stuff there, but never finished or published it.

Then I briefly got into OFMD and wrote some stuff there, but never finished or published it.

Then last year I got into Ted Lasso because of some amazing fic and in the lead up to season 3 airing I was like 'I sort of....want to write something?' And I wrote some stuff. Then, emboldened by everyone else posting things I figured- hey! What if I actually wrote something, finished it, and published it!

So to answer your question: I've always been here, but in a very real way my answer is 'last year.'

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats

Most of it is pre-Ted Lasso and doesn't feel like it should count since I wasn't doing the bulk of the work, so here is the adjusted to just Ted Lasso stats:

Fic Total - 6

User Subscriptions - 49

Kudos - 669

Comment threads - 78

Bookmarks - 146

Subscriptions - 170

Word Count - 30,040

Hits - 6,074

#ask game #ask box is always open #sorry this got long

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zukkaoru · 4 months

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i think. everyone should stop reading my most popular fics that aren't really that good and start reading the ones with 18 kudos that are significantly better

#this is about (just wanna be) somebody i'm proud of #yes i had fun writing it. but it's REALLY NOT THAT GOOD #also i cannot stress this enough: that fic was a fluke #it's NOT a good example of what i write. guys i'm so much better at the angsty character study fics #i promise i actually can get proper characterization. i had to sacrifice some of that for the light-hearted stupid cheesy premise #alas #no one in fandom actually cares about characterization #ngl sometimes i even wonder what the point of writing stuff in-character is if the flat #'characters reduced to a single trait that they may or may not even possess'#fics will ALWAYS end up being more popular than the ones with good characterization #anyway i know why the 18 kudos one is so low. it's the mcd tag. AND it's a gen fic centered around a character no one cares about #i wasn't expecting that one to do well #but it does suck that like. my most popular fics will never actually be my best ones #it's the same with bsd but THAT'S a whole other story #that's the phenomenon of everyone reducing bsd to the skk show and not giving the time of day to fics centered around anyone else #do u guys realize there are SO many other INCREDIBLE characters and dynamics????#like i was doing that bsd fic rec event on twt and almost all of the fics recced were skk #meanwhile i was searching for anything NOT skk bc idk other ships and characters deserve appreciation too??#and i don't even read much skk bc it's so hard to find anything that's. like. ACTUALLY good.#anyway. i don't actually care if you read somebody i'm proud of #but i hate that that's like. one of my most popular fics by a longshot #i have stuff that is so much better that people won't even glance at bc it's not tagged with the most popular m/m ship in the fandom #hello grace here

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qprstobin · 6 months

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It only makes sense for Steve to have this massive guilt complex when everyone else is pointing out how much of an asshole he used to be like every other sentence, the way that most of these fics seem to have everyone doing. With how often so much fic has everyone constantly reminding Steve that he was an asshole, it's understandable that he would internalise it and start to feel guilty.

BUT, it's not realistic to have everyone pointing out that he was an asshole, because it almost never happens in the show.

-The kids refer to him as a douchebag in s1, but that's before they met or got to know him

-Jonathan thinks of Steve as an asshole but that is a very biased point of view. He was also an asshole to Steve, and seems to refuse to see the possibility of Steve's growth as a person, despite the evidence being right in front of him

-Robin said Steve was a douchebag, but admitted it was based on very little and that she was jealous

-Eddie said he thought Steve was a douchebag, but admitted that his judgement was wrong and based off of incorrect assumptions he made based off of other factors, like Steve coming from a rich family

So basically 4 times in 4 seasons people have commented about Steve being an asshole. Three of them were before they'd really met and for to know Steve and two of them admitted that the judgement was wrong.

So yeah, Steve isn't having this massive guilt complex, because no one is constantly reminding him that he was an asshole when he was 16.

You're so right, like yes he does seem regretful when people bring up him being a douchebag but as you said... No one actually does that often??? Robin along with calling him a jerk also says he's "Mr. Cool, Mr. Funny" which I think shows what most people typically thought of him.

The kids thing doesn't even phase me lmao. Like of course the middle school aged sibling and his friends are going to think his older sister's boyfriend with the nice hair and the flashy car is going to be a douchebag. Tbh I'd be more surprised if they liked him before spending time with him, especially with how wrapped up in Nancy he was.

The Jonathan and Eddie ones are the most funny to me though because like, Jonathan also rails into Nancy for being "shallow" and then claims he's able to see her true self after taking stalker pics of her. Why are we taking s1 Jonathan at his word there. Jonathan and Steve clearly didn't interact much before the photos and the suspected cheating, considering that Steve also gives Tommy shit for the "I think he killed his brother" comment.

And the Eddie one dfigjdirgjsir He is sooo my way or the highway he very clearly judges people based on appearances, and Steve is a rich jock of course he assumes he's an asshole. He makes fun of everyone across the spectrum of popularity for conforming in his intro scene. And you're right! He also admits his assumptions were wrong! Idk why fandom loves to forget that Eddie actively 1) admitted weirdo supremacy, jocks suck world view was wrong, and 2) that he was specifically wrong about Steve.

I think if people were reminding Steve of his past "transgressions" more, we would like? Get some acknowledgement of that on screen? Not only because I think you're right, it's the only way Steve would obtain a guilt complex that that but also because presumably Steve would be upset about it instead of just taking it? He would make comments about people always bringing it up or saying that people are right instead of acknowledging his change or moving past it.

There's no reason aside for whump for why Steve should be guilt complexing this hard, especially over like being a bit of a dick teenager which, everyone in the show is lol.

#anon #anonymous #asks #steve #fandom wank #sorry if this is a little messy im in pain rn fghsigjrs #but anyway yes agree agree agree you could make the guilt complex make sense #esp with how fandom brings up the asshole stuff so much but theres no reason for based on canon steve to feel that bad #he made his amends!

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depravitycentral · 10 months

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i love that you don't shy away from yandere themes that are considered gross! Period blood for example and invading reader's privacy in the bathroom. (Thankfully there's no sc*t 😅) A lot of your posts are 10k+ so I was wondering about your writing process

Do you write it all in one sitting? How long does it take you? If you get a block in the middle, do you just give up on it or force yourself to finish it? What's your favorite thing you've written?

Aww thank you for the reassurance! I'm never totally sure how things like that will be received - my goal when I write yandere works is to tap into the more creepy and gross side of the yandere, and I think that can turn a lot of people off from reading my stuff. Thank you for being a trooper and dealing with it, though; you have my heart <3

(Also please don't worry, scat will NEVER make an appearance on my blog. Other icky, nasty body fluids? Sure, but I have to draw the line somewhere and that's where I've chosen.)

As far as my writing process goes, I kind of go in spurts! This weekend I've been feeling weirdly productive and I had a lot of free time (a rare commodity), so I was able to sit down and pound out some of those profiles. I tend to get inspiration for a character and write like 60-75% of their profile in one sitting, then suddenly lose all motivation and want to stop to take like a snack break or do something else for a while. A lot of times when I'm that close to being done I just force myself to finish it, which sometimes has better results than others. (The Nobunaga nsfw profile, for example, was completed about 65% of the way done when I suddenly crashed on it, but I banged it out from start to finish in one sitting, so if there are lulls in the writing that's probably why.) If I leave something halfway done, there's all kinds of little notes and bullet points written down on the document with ideas I was working with, but sometimes I wait so long to return back to that specific work that I totally forget/don't understand what the bullet points are saying, which sucks.

For time, I would say it takes me somewhere around 3-4 hours to write each profile if I'm really focused, but the total time (including brainstorming) is probably averaged more around 5-6 hours. The nsfw ones have less content so they take less time, but the general ones are the ones I have to really think about and analyze, which often tends to require watching a few more episodes with that character in it just to get a good feel for them as I head into writing. (Unfortunately, haikyuu has become virtually impossible to find for free nowadays, so for all my haikyuu works I'm mostly just working off memory. I'm a little worried they aren't super accurate to the characters, but the show must go on.)

I don't really have a favorite thing I've written! Occasionally I'll look through my blog and see something I posted and go oh really? Was that me? Did I post that? I don't remember most of the details of things I post, so it's actually kind of a treat for me to go back and reread my work because it's like I'm reading a brand new fic. (Aside from all the grammar errors I suddenly find. Ugh.) I will say that all the Feitan stuff came much easier than I thought it would - I was kind of dreading writing for him because he's so popular among the fans and is kind of difficult for me to grasp, but once I started it just kind of kept coming. So if I had to choose, maybe his profiles!

Thank you for all the questions - self reflection is always a good thing! And thank you for sending in this ask - the little rush of serotonin I get whenever I see a notification that something new is in my inbox is crazy.

#if you read this long ass ramble about my personal habits/writing style #then you are wonderful and i love you #have a nice night/day #and please remember to take care of yourself #drink water!!#go to sleep earlier!!#take breaks from technology!!

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teresalace · 5 months

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The Doplerganger Phenomenon (Halloween 2023) PART 1

Pairing: (Professor) Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader (College Student)

Warnings: Vague horror mentions, SFW. Words: 2911

Tropes: A doplergnager of someone you know...A string of unexplained deaths and on top of that things are going missing from your apartment.

A/N: 🤪 Inspired hugely from a childhood Japanese horror (?) Romance movie that ws titled Dooplergnager!! #no beta, no editing. My first MCU FIC. Sadly I can't find it on YouTube and I lost the CD, if anyone can find it-- the movie goes like this without any gore. An office girl (I think) lives alone at home, uses charcoal to draw on a canvas and is thinking of entering a museum's art contest... but is so indecisive, and suddenly the door bell rang, she goes to see who it is and sees its a blind guy who idk is asking if it's the right address or smth. She says no and he goes away. ... Boom from one floor beneath her apartment, at the same location as her door, another her appears... her dooplerganger-- who does what she was indecisive about, draws, enters the art contest, basically this whole movie is some detective supernatural thing where a detective discovers that some ppl jump off buildings after seeing their dooplergangers achieve better than them. Sooooo ;) this is not an original idea, just wanna honour this movie.

~~~~~~~

Clap.

"Listen here. If nobody takes this Friday exam seriously, I'll have Mr. Laufeyson take over all my classes for the rest of the week." Lightheartedly said Thor, his wide voice overpowering the whole classroom, grinning in playful triumph, yet the threat was very real.

Groans and moans—some boos here and there—fill out the jam-packed classroom, ranging from zombie-tired to actual fear responses. My reaction lied delicately, balancing on the tightrope of both dread and hope, but my heart twisted in excitement.

Among the chorus of complaints, chatter, and chairs shrieking surrounding me, I took my sweet time filing and packing my things, which were not so neat. Class ended on a very motivational note. . . .

Professor Thor's brother was not one most students willingly paid a visit to after-hours, unlike the other teachers, and looking for him without a purpose in academic advice is as pointless as buying rope from a camel.

His striking slim features, like his most prominent and popular emerald gems for eyes and boney face, take a stand in attracting many to sign up for his courses. I so happened to be one of the lucky few who didn't check the profiles of the teachers and allowed that to influence my decision-making.

Beauty is always deceiving.

And it never fails to be so entertaining to watch from the back rows when another person rage-quits, abruptly leaves in the middle of his teaching, or slumps defeatedly in their seats each and every week. It never stopped Mr. Laufeyson from carrying on the lesson—not even when a wasp flew in by mistake and terrorised the class while he didn't bat an eye.

Until it went after him, he took immediate action, swatting it hard against the wall with a ruler.

He froze.

Holding that fatal position, he rotated his head towards me—I meant, the class obviously.

"Now, any questions? And if there are, you best make it good; otherwise, you'd like your future grade to fall from a height." He removes the ruler, revealing a flattened wasp slowly unsticking itself from the wall and plummeting down with a comically weak buzz.

Then silence.

"Just like that."

I held back from laughing, except for a tiny chuckle joining the other students'. Sucking in the bottom of my lip, I focused on the assignment on my laptop while keeping an active ear for any tidbits of information from him. I really liked his humorous side. But there was something else about him that I loved.

…RING.

There went the bell, and class was dismissed. Mr. Laufeyson, with a smooth ease, was the first to leave, and the others and I stalled to watch him before following suit in hushed giggles.

"—ho! Just now, that got me feeling some type of way."

Another girl low moaned, "I'm melting like an ice cream in the sun."

"I wish he used that ruler on me instead."

Mmhmm.

Mr Laufeyson's back disappeared after a sharp turn, he's never in the cafeteria during lunch breaks but in a way what a relief he won't ever see the dumb side of me. Not that he sees me as anything else except a student.

But it will change.

Thankfully graduation was right around the corner… By then I'll have a chance to ask him out properly. Maybe buy him some flowers? As a farewell appreciation gift.

. . .

"I heard you used my name again to scare the children," Loki piqued, hands studiously behind his back as he approached the sun-lit kitchen.

His brother, shining blonde tied-back hair, grins wolfishly after downing a beer can and tossing it in the trash, making it over to Loki.

"Relax, it's just a joke, brother!" Thor let out a boisterous laugh, smacking a large hand on Loki's shoulder and causing him to slightly flinch. "College kids need the motivation. A kick of adrenaline, am I right?"

"More work that is unnecessary doesn't sound very funny to me. I will not be babysitting your class again after last time, a word of warning."

"Oh come on now, you have a knack for torturing students to greatness— and I can supply you with as many peoplee as you wish. Just say the word!—"

Loki's unamusement showed in his thin smile and poise stance.

"—Don't think I've seen the way you've been holding yourself back from having fun these days." He winked, walking off with a whistle in the direction of his study.

Loki didn't think it was obvious but of course his brother noticed his recent shift in behavior, more avoidance. But like all things in life, it would soon pass. It has to. And it will.

The root of his avoidance would graduate soon enough next month. He'll just have to exercise more patience and wait it out.

. . .

Friday nights are always the best to rewind and treat myself to fast food on the couch. It's fun to pretend that there's 3 days in the weekend.

Time to imagine the handsome actor in the Notebook as Mr Laufeyson.

"Sorry, can't join you tonight girl. I got a 2nd date with Taro!" Juliet whooped excitedly, pumping a fist towards the ceiling as she one-handedly strapped on her glittery heels with urgency.

I waved weakly at her bursting enthusiasm, smiling hard and happy for her. "Goodluck—"

The door slammed in my face, faint clip-clops of her heels muffled away into the buzzing night, and the disappointment of my ruined plans reflecting off the smooth rogue-wood.

Welp and there goes movie-night with my bestie roommate… Now I've got the whole place to myself, wowie, nice. Time for some self-care.

Was what I thought before accidentally falling asleep in the middle of a firework love confession scene on the big screen, an empty bag of popcorn kernels laying at the foot of the couch I slouched on. As I finally snored myself awake, a series of insistent knuckle-punching came from the door, louder than the TV audio.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

That is so unlike the bubbly optimistic Juliet I know, she wouldn't be coming home until… I patted around me for my phone and checked the time.

9:00 PM.

Yep. It's far too early.

Instantly I sat up straight, unblinking, eyeing the front door with a tight clutch on my phone. No way is Juliet even close to retiring from her date, ever. No one is supposed to be here and not at this time.

BANG. BANG.

Step by cautious step, I neared the door and tiptoed to peer out of the peephole at what–or–who was causing the commotion. My phone at the ready to call the cops.

BANG.

A mop of slick black hair blocked the majority of my sight: as if this person was leaning forwards, face-first, into the door like he was either trying to hide his identity or didn't know how doors work. Since usually people wouldn't be standing so absurdly close against a door with knowing the possibility of it hitting them.

Or this is a drunk idiot who wondered off from one of the other houses. An uncommon occurence but happens.

BANG—

"Stop!" I shouted, my free hand taking hold of the doorknob firm and full of annoyance. Ready to give this possible-drunk a piece of my mind.

The person listened then a soft, almost feverent breathing came through the wood after hearing my voice. Are they drunk and sick? Not the first time seeing this terrible combo.

"Please take a step back!" I warned the person on the other side and swung the door wide open in a rush of concern.

My unsuspecting self, dumbfoundedly, receiving the best shock of my life. It was a man. I knew.

"Well," glimmered a pair of deep green gem-like eyes once settling in my face. Upclose and too personal. "Hello, my darling. It's been too long."

That infamous silky voice that slithers into anyone's consciousness for days. Belonging to non other but my– I mean, that man.

My vocal cords decided to stop functioning without my consent. "H…"

Almost all of my vocabulary disappeared from my brain the second I fully registered the familiar handsome face in my head. His petal-thin lips parted while my jaw hung as we both looked at each other in a mutual deadlock.

"M– Mr Laufeyson?" My tongue muscle memory took over.

He nodded curtly in confirming his identity, still staring wide-eyed at me as if drinking me in like a new sight to behold.

Wait he shouldn't be here. I wasn't hallucinating this hard, right.

There was no reasonable explanation as to why I could be hallucinating without a drop of alcohol in my system. Unless he stalked me, which is impossible to imagine the busy man ever doing, even pondering it, to me of all people.

Hah. I wish.

But lo and behold it was him, genuinely in the flesh, smiling the most biggest white-teethed smile I've seen.

"May I come in, please. Darling?"

In where? In what?

Trying to make sense of the current reality standing infront of me, hoping this wasn't a prank.

"Why are you here… Sir." I intoned, politely, darting my eyes around him at the dark corners suspiciously. This wasn't some graduation prank right, I secretly hoped it wasn't.

"Why?" A, very nice sounding, humourous chuckle ripples from him before he continued.

"How could I not pay a visit to my most brilliant student? I would regret it for as long as I live." He said it extremely convincing as if it was normal to show up out of the blue at my house in the middle of the night.

"Right. Um, please come in."

I beckoned him in with an instinctual welcoming smile, holding back the urge to tidy my no-doubt ratty appearence and adjust my clothes as he entered.

Brushing his whole arm against mine, on accident I think, but he didn't seem to notice, too focused on removing his shining boots.

Nervously, I closed the door behind him while deeply breathing in the faint passing of his leafy cologne. My mind long forgetting if I should've let him inside.

I tersely said, ignoring the happy booming in my heart, and gestured to the gray couch. Hoping he wouldn't notice the tiniest shade of darker gray, the imprint of where I lazed earlier.

"Please, sir, make yourself at home."

"Oh, I planned to." Mr Laufeyson winked uncharacteristically, smoothly shrugging his coat off him and folding it over the armrest– where I laid my head earlier– casually. One of his hands had a purplish-dark marking across the skin, must've been from him knocking something.

"Thank you, darling."

"No problemo." That was not a cool response at all. Internally I cringed at myself while mentally noting to get him a bandage for his hand injury.

It took much willpower not to lose control of my eyeballs from running down the rare sight of him in only his white button-up while feeling his intense emerald gaze all over me.

Juliet is not going to believe this.

Alright, I'm going to be a good host. And only that. He probably wants to ask about what career path I'm choosing or something, so hold back.

I cleared my throat, meeting with his eyes.

"Sir, would you like some tea or coffee?" And maybe stay longer.

"From you? Anything will do."

. . .

Crackles of laughter sitting together on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the cushion behind my head, silly banter over past lessons he taught, tiny tidbits of his favourite things and color (as I suspected was green) proven correct. We share more things in common than I had thought.

Who knew I'd be the lucky one to be graced with getting personal with Mr Laufeyson.

1:10 AM.

In a blink of an eye, time seemed to skip over and the hour hand crossed midnight. Even though I felt no ounce of drowsiness— it wouldn't be appropriate to let him get caught by my roommate. This wasn't exactly all that inappropriate too, we only talked.

"Sir, it's getting very late. I'm sure you have another student to visit tomorrow or something," I tried to sound casual with mild contact, genuinely smiley, and not at all like I was pushing him to get the hint.

His emerald eyes flashed understanding as he gave a relaxed smile, getting up from the couch slightly slow. "I'd hate to overstay my welcome and have you lose your beauty sleep."

I chuckled and copied his action while he collected his coat, his slim fingers fiddling with the buttons almost mindlessly. It was a rare sight to see Mr Laufeyson act… Nervous? Maybe, that would be funny to imagine but he must be feeling discourteous for accidentally not watching the time slip by.

I know I would.

"Oh and dear."

My gaze instantly flicked up to his already on me. "Don't think for one second I could ever forget you," he closed the distance between our bodies and said my name so intimately. Leaning in, tilting his head, my heart a combustion of excitement, as his eyes shut and he left a peck on my cheek.

The signals were green. He was giving all the right signals and I'd be a fool not to go for it. Just not right now.

I muffled my own giggle, leading him to the door as I held it wide open for him. "Thanks for stopping by, Mr Laufeyson. It means a lot to me." More than he could ever know. If only he could stay longer but that would be a huge violation to my roommate's trust. Darn it.

"As it is for me."

He softly smiled, taking his sweet time to walk down the small steps. Glancing back at me twice.

He left without a hurry into the swallowing darkness where the streetlights lacked reach, and I continued staring out the peephole long after his ghostly tall figure lost itself in a concerning direction. Only alleyways and deadends there.

But I shouldn't be too worried, he looked like he knows where to go.

Tik. Tok.

Tik tok.

It felt like an eternity wishing for Monday to arrive quicker, my nerves aflamed for the entire weekend as I picked out cute outfits in advance. Surely he'd appreciate a different look from me, I couldn't wait to see his face again.

—RING.

. . .

Back to class. Here we go!

For once throughout my college days, I woke up an extra hour before my alarm and prepped an all natural make-up look. Taking special care to choose a flattering outfit and spritzing all over myself with my favourite scent until I knew I would be a walking cloud of sweetness. Hopefully something to be remembered by.

Out the door I went after leaving some waffles for Juliet's breakfast. Way too early but it was worth it.

"—Right, let's continue where we left off before another bee decides to steal the thunder and my job. All at once." Mr Laufeyson placed away the long ruler responsible for last week's insect death, I noted that he was wearing the same coat from coming over last friday, as a round of chuckles and soft giggles in the mix, erupted at his words.

Mr Laufeyson was putting extra work into being humorous today of all days or his mood improved positively better... Possibly because of me. Because of last Friday night. Or I was getting too ahead of myself when he could've easily paid a visit to the others. Right, he's just being a good concerned teacher. As always...

Class went on like normally. And he didn't even glance at me.

. . . The hour had passed.

Hoping for the littlest of interaction after class, I sprinted the steps down to the front of the classroom. Ahead of anyone else. "Mr Laufeyson!"

Once I stepped around the desk to properly stand before him, a perky excitement in my every movement to be upclose to him again. My expectations of mildly receiving a smile from him was shattered the second he angled his face towards me, his stiff folders collected under an arm.

"What."

Mr Laufeyson said harshly, "—exactly do you want? My time is limited. My email is on the Google classroom, you can easily find it online to contact me. However If it's a matter you believe is urgent, see me in my office after school hours immediately."

Not expecting this... Kind of standoffish tone.

I deflated under the scrutiny of his sharp green eyes and downturned pink lips, hopes of my outfit and being noticed stomped by his quiet impatience and unusual agitation. Right, we were still in school. Why did I choose such bad timing to talk to him.

Too eager, I must've came across as desperate. Yikes.

"Okay, sir. Thanks," I gave a weak smile as he spun to leave swiftly.

Probably not hearing me in the midst of everyone else's small chatter joining the outside noise as I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder. Heart heavy but I survived.

His change in attitude was unexpected but not unwelcome. The iciness of it. A telltale sign that something or someone had bothered him. By the troubled ook of his deepened wrinkles, I guessed it must be recent— An hour or few ago, maybe— his stiff body language told me it's a personal matter.

Either I was deducing nonsense or being a kick of delusional away from acting on my deepest urge to confess my feelings.

How could I even help him?

. . .

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