#i leave tumblr for the longest time and go back to do tags
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kdnfb's Ten Years of Fanfiction Mania
Featuring: Unmasked
Summary: Written under an Anonymous pseudonym ~M~ to fill the following prompt ~ Historical Katniss and Peeta hate each other. They attend a masquerade ball and for some reason end up kissing each other. Sparks fly everywhere. Katniss tries to find the man behind the mask but Peeta knows it was Katniss though he doesnt say anything. They end up bethrothed even if they 'despise' each other. How they fall in love is up to u and how katniss figured out it was peeta is up to u
Rating: E for explicit sexual content, explicit language, implied/referenced rape/nonconsensual (not everlark), implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced miscarriage, discussions of illness, war, and injury in a historical setting, ptsd, minor character death. They worst of these tags happens offscreen and is merely discussed and dealt with rather than shown here.
A/N: ~Unmasked~ is my longest fic in terms of word count (around 234k), although Outside Chance and Spellbound are not too far behind and are both incomplete. Unmasked started as something meant to be fun and cathartic, then turned into a ridiculously long and self indulgent fic that I still, to this day, have no idea if the anonymous person who submitted the prompt to @everlarkficexchange even read, let alone whether or not they liked it. But I love what I produced for this fic.
Why write it anonymously and only reveal myself later? A couple reasons. 1) Historical is not my wheel house. At least not writing it. I am a shameless consumer of historical romances. I did some research for this fic but not nearly the level I would've liked to have done. Eventually, I said screw it, it's about the vibes not the accuracy. 2) I had a pile of unfinished wips when I started this, to include Outside Chance and Spellbound (both of which are still unfinished hmmmmm) and I really didn't want a lot of questions about when I was going to get back to those while I was working on this because 3) I'd just gone through a small slice of writerly hell to the point that I seriously considered deleting my entire tumblr and all of my fanfic. Details are not important right now, the result is. That's probably the closest I've ever come to calling myself done with fandom.
Then this prompt posted to EFE and wouldn't leave me alone. Eventually, I decided that if I was going to write it, I wanted to write it with as little pressure as possible. So I chose to write and post it as ~M~ until it was finished. Plus, I thought it might make it fun for people other than me if there was a bit of mystery behind it. And I don't regret doing that.
Writing behind a mask allowed me to be as long winded and self-indulgent as I wanted to without worrying about how tight the storyline was or how accurate the historical details were, or wondering if I'd be walking into my tumblr and a barrage of the kind of messages I'd come to dread receiving. The only thing I worried about, really was if the amount and kind of smut I included gave me away prematurely lmao.
While this was my first real foray into the realm of historical fics, I am hoping it's not the last. I've got too many ideas and half started pieces to back out of it now. But those, like this one, will probably remain untethered to a specific real place, and a specific time, mainly because I just don't have that kind of time for research if I'm not getting paid to do it lol. They will be works of love if not works of accuracy.
Unmasked on AO3
#ten years of fanfiction mania#unmasked#unmasked nonsense#i meant to post this like three weeks ago#ooops
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ch vi. bruises
joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)
chapter six of chaser
warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.
summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.
a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper.
You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused.
“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”
But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave.
Not now.
So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.
You can almost remember it like it was yesterday.
A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house.
He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night.
You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night.
But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation.
It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller.
Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you.
And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.
But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in.
“First kiss?” you remember him asking.
You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his.
“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother.
He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer.
But you didn’t really do — anything.
And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.
In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs.
You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear.
Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe.
And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams.
You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers.
But never fear — well, not until right now.
Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy.
_
Some hours earlier.
You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard.
You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables.
Yesterday:
You: can we talk in person?
Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?
You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.
You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party.
But his words echo in your mind.
“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.”
You let out a cursed sigh.
Tommy had to know. Right?
If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—
“Alright?”
Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy.
Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more.
You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets.
It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought.
You remember everything. Every little detail. You don’t think you’ll ever forget.
You tuck your phone back into your pocket.
“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you.
He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart.
“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes.
“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips.
“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone.
“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”
He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh.
“Perfection takes time.”
Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.
“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight.
Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder.
He’s looking back at you too.
“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around.
_
You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you.
You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd.
“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with.
“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now.
“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle.
“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier.
“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup.
“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station.
You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink.
“So,” she says, giving you a wink.
“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way.
“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance.
“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue.
“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue.
“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.”
“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah.
“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters.
“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.”
Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow.
“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind.
“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies.
“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”
Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion.
“W-what? I—”
“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it.
“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back.
“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning.
What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?
“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.”
She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel.
“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.
You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.
“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you.
“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.”
_
You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit.
You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now.
“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge.
“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.
“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question.
“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough.
You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck.
“This fuckin’ guy,” Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear.
You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces.
“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone.
“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear.
You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts.
You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party?
He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else.
“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan.
“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow.
“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy.
“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”
“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.”
Tommy—harmless.
Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried.
It’s Tommy. It’s fine.
Right?
You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled.
You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess.
“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—”
“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday.
He looks down.
“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile.
“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand.
“Thanks.”
You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence.
“Joel helped you?”
“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front.
“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended.
“I wanted to go on my own.”
Tommy doesn't look convinced.
“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen.
“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction.
“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”
But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet.
“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.”
Shit.
You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse.
“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside.
“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?”
“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil.
He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last.
If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it.
“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind.
“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.”
“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—”
“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”
He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know.
“‘S okay,” He says.
Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope.
“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—”
“What is that?”
Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless.
“What? I don’t—”
“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline.
“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?”
He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead.
What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too.
“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip.
You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises.
“What the hell is that?”
“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down.
You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture.
“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”
“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you.
“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond.
“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable.
Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud.
No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here.
“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused.
“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”
But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.
He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.
And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything.
“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance.
“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.
But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help.
“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better.
“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.
“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head.
You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it.
“He didn’t,” you reply.
“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction.
“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—”
“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you.
That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do.
Joel moves to speak but you do it first.
“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.”
Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.
“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”
“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel.
“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him.
“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking.
“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?”
Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when.
“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you.
Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.
Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again.
“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual.
“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?”
Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.
“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?”
Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air.
“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face.
“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think.
Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has.
“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.
“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.
Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite.
“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist.
“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him.
Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again.
“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car.
And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her.
_
The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window.
You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all.
When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door.
“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl.
You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat.
“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.
Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges.
You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping.
“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle.
“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”
You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart.
“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there.
He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises.
“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”
He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there.
“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding.
“‘M sorry,” he mumbles.
“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”
“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”
“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.”
You shake your head.
“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle.
“That you what?”
You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape.
“That I liked it.”
Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.
“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes.
“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”
From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.
‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.
“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—”
“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”
“Are you sure?”
He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs.
“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head.
And then he pulls your head down to kiss you.
It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on.
Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off.
He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath.
“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly.
“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”
You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there.
“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips.
“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you.
You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling.
You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp.
Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move.
It’s kind of like a game.
See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses.
Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder.
You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred.
But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better.
“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands.
“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do.
“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you.
Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding.
“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.”
Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster.
Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right.
You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again.
“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”
“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does.
He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere.
“Shit,” he says, rocking into you.
Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away.
He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.
“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him.
“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh.
_
taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. kisses!
@going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @violinchick @rhoorl
@yoongjennie88 @untamedheart81 @noisynightmarepoetry @joelsversion @vanillen @brujitafantomatico @cartoon-garbage04 @jpbplvr @whattownheadshake @beccerjune @pedrotonin @sen-mirjahaal @awesomebunnyqueen @bluetattoos
@siimiasoi @fandomscollide @lizzie-cakes @paleidiot @sunnywithachanceofjavi @koshkaj-blog @sunnysaphira @bbyanarchist @casa-boiardi @anavatazes @joeldjarin @l0vem3n @lmariephoto37 @turtles-all-the-way-d0wn @withasideofmeg @dinwifey @brinabees @sofiparallel @akah565 @defnotashifter @missgurrl @anoverwhelmingdin @rainbowcosmicchaos @pedropascalissofine @purplemechanics @suzmagine @hellaradd @josephine1837 @lawh0re @medic332 @lisaneedsbraces @angelmather1 @kirsteng42 @poodlebae @lunxramour
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#the last of us hbo#joel miller#joel miller self insert#the last of us#joel fic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fic#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal as joel miller#joel miller smut#smut#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#joel x you#tlou fanfiction#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#dom!joel#dom!joel miller#tommy miller#chaser
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So, I may be a day late, but I still want to make a little post for Simblr Gratitude Day 💜
To start off, my memory is pretty bad, so I just know I'm gonna miss tagging people... and honestly, there's way more people on here I'm grateful for than tumblr's limit of 50! So I'm starting out addressing everyone.
To everybody that likes or reblogs my posts, sends comments or asks, shares their sims with me, or uses my cc: I love you. Yes, you! I may be bad at answering back sometimes, but I cherish every interaction I get- a lot of the times they have me kicking my feet and giggling, or sometimes I'm barking and scaring my cat. Asks really make my day and even when I don't reply so fast, they warm my heart. Asks I've gotten on here have genuinely helped me in my dark times, and renewed my faith in this community as a whole, because some of you are just so freaking amazing and kind. Especially now with everything I've been going through, sims and being here has remained a comfort for me because of you all. Even if there's speed bumps from time to time, I truly believe there's more good here than bad, and y'all should be proud of yourselves and your capacity for endless kindness. Thank you!
Now, I'm going to address a few specific precious people I'm grateful for.
@wastelandwhisperer - Moon, my precious mom friend, I adore you. The joy, comfort, and hilarious memories you give me can't be understated. You deserve all the love and light in the world.
@neverheresims - God's eepiest soldier, what would I do without you? Thank you for always being genuine, reliable, and a true friend.
Vi - Thank you my sheriff, my paggro detector, my master of copypastas, my right hand catboy. Even though you're untraceable, I couldn't leave you out. I love you!
@divinedionym - Thanks for always being straight with me and taking NO shit. I truly admire you and your attitude, friend.
@dyoreos - We may not both be active at the same time anymore, but I still think of you, friend! You've always had my back and I'll always have yours.
@nucrests - I'm so grateful to be your friend, and every time you share your beautiful content and gorgeous sims with me, it really makes my day. I adore you.
@cinamun - You probably don't know this, but in certain times when I was feeling low, your comments and kindness really lifted my spirits and made me feel like I belong. You're a lovely person and deserve all the love you receive, friend.
@woosteru - You won't see this bc you're retired so I can be sappy as I want, so there!!! I adore you, your sweet personality, and your sense of humor that matches just right with mine. (Nobody tell them)
@superflare - Lulu, you're an incredibly creative and intelligent person. I can tell you're going to go far in life and do great for the world. Be proud of yourself, always!
@fiftymilehighclub - Thank you for always being yourself, Manda! You're such a hardworking person that's kind but firm with your opinions and what matters to you. You're amazing.
@nicatnite88 - Tay, you're someone that's always empathetic, understanding and kind, yet hilarious at the same time. I look up to you as a person and admire your skills as a parent.
@pluto-sims - What do I say about Eli? Despite being unfortunately bri*ish, you've exceeded expectations in all other areas as a friend. I genuinely appreciate your presence and kindness in my life.
@bloody-soda - As one of my longest and dearest mutuals, peachy, my love for you can't be understated! I think of you whenever I see cute meme pics lol and you're so lovely as a person.
@wubblesgonefishin - Beautiful wubs, you're such a wonderful person with so much love to give! My day brightens every time I speak with you and I'm so glad you're back.
@toastie-sim - Meg! One of my few brain cells, I don't know what I'd do without you! You're so helpful all the time and unbelievably patient. I appreciate you.
...Phewph. Now that that's o- wait. You thought I was done??? Nuh uh, the king of long ass texts posts is not done that fast. Here's some more beautiful people I'm grateful for and love seeing grace my dash 💜
@simandy @void-imp @therichantsim @adelarsims @marsosims @shysimblr @1-800-cuupid @xldkx @xiuminuwu @hexcodesims @cassymblr @lotusplum @rebelangelsims @denzellion @strawberrylattesims @anachrosims @cowplant-snacks @fierce-trait @simanin @ghostwoohoo @llama-head @aghilasims @janjumjam @jellyfish-tea @bbdoll @puppycheesecake @mwvwv-sims
#ceci speaks#nonsims#text#simblr gratitude day#im telling u i missed ppl and im sorry#but just know i love u all!!!
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The man in the mask || 18+ Fem!Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley || part 1
・❥・Part of the previous story: Conflicted feelings
・❥・Masterlist
・❥・Tags/Warning: 18+, NSFW, Sexual themes, Blowjob, Fingering, Vaginal sex, Protected sex but no mention of condom used, Reader is assumed to take birth control. Reader is virgin, Body worship, slight mentions of Ghost's trauma, Ghost is dom but mostly a big softie. Guides reader through everything. Aftercare, cuddles and mostly smut/fluff. No angst
Note: The game also follows off from MW2 so the events are not canon at all to MW3.If any of this just so happens to be in MW3 then no way shape or form is this fanfic related to the canon events of the game
・❥・A/N: I haven't written on here for SOOO long so I wanted to write something for you all. I've been so busy with home life and I need to get back into writing. I wanted to spoil you all so enjoy ;) This is also like SUPER long. Probably the longest one shot I've ever done
Had to do it in three parts since tumblrs word count hated me for this
I'll leave a link down below for the second one
Part two: The man in the mask || Fem!Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley
Part three: The man in the mask || Fem!Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley part 3
・❥・Word count: 4,356
Your relationship with Ghost was growing more with each passing day. Nothing felt awkward anymore although he was still the same lieutenant you met when he's with the team.
You both tried to keep your relationship hidden, at least for now. Although he wasn't shy of showing you love and affection whenever you both had alone time.
You can't lie though, the desire for him grew a little more each day as you caught him stealing glances when he thought you weren't paying attention. His eyes fixated on your breasts just for a little too long or the way he snakes his gaze to the cures of your waist. You could only dream what it would finally be like to have you both naked, breathless and covered in sweat. His hands touching and tracing every inch of your soft skin. It was enough to keep you awake some nights as the fire between your legs could only be settled by your fingers, wishing it was him.As much as you wanted him, you was to scared to bring it up to him. The gnawing need and desire for him was scratching inside of you, but you put it to side. Too ashamed to admit your lust for Simon.
: ̗̀➛
It was late at night and you were laying in bed, your body remained still although your mind had different plans. The man in the mask was the only thing on your mind and as much as you tried you just couldn't get him off your mind.
The ache in your legs was on high alert tonight, the most it has been and to no avail you can't sleep. You thought about reliving yourself but decided against it as you didn't wanna make a mess of your bedsheets, since they were recently cleaned and washed.So, as much as you hate it, you decide to go speak to the man who's been engraved in your mind the past few weeks.
You get out of bed and put on some shorts and a hoodie. Deciding against not to wear underwear. You check the time. 2:20am. You just hope he was still awake. Knowing Ghost though he would never sleep, or at least only sleep when he's with you.You leave your dorm and head over to Simons and you hesitate for a second as you begin to second question it."Stop being a pussy your a soldier in task force 141 for gods sake..." You mutter to yourself as you bring your hand to the door and you knock before you change your mind again.
A few seconds later the door swings open and Ghost looks down. His balaclava fitting smug around his face.
"Y/n?...Is everything alright...you aren't usually awake at this time." His voice is a whisper as he offers his hand, You take it and he brings you inside."Can't...sleep...." You bite your lip and he closes the door behind him.
"Bad dream?" He brings his hand to lift your chin up lightly, trying to look for any signs of discomfort in your eyes. His touch sends a shiver down your spine.
"No...nothing like that." You look away, knowing eye contact is making your emotions run more
wild."Then what's wrong?" Ghost's voice suddenly turns to concern and he brings you a little closer.
"Just...thoughts...good thoughts, but I don't know how to put them into words." You blush lightly and he seems to catch on what you're trying to achieve. He sits down and he pulls you to him so your straddling his lap.
"Then why don't you show me through actions then babe?" He strokes your cheek with his thumb and you could just give in to him then and there. He chuckles at your response and he pulls his balaclava just enough to reveal his lips. He grabs your hair and kiss's you deeply, Your hunger purrs in reply as you lean into him, pressing your lips harder to his. He licks your bottom lip and you grip his waist tightly. He pulls away and he whispers in your ear
"I understood you loud and clear, but just before we go further. Is this what you want?" His voice is laced with seduction and his voice is deep, a new side to Ghost you never knew, but still enough to care. Not wanting to do anything you're uncomfortable with.
"Yes..." Is all you can imagine to say, your heart racing and you can only imagine the things that you and ghost are about to do. Your mind goes giddy with the sudden rush of excitement as you can't lie; you've been dreaming about this the past few weeks.
"Mmm...good...Just so you know, I won't hold back...just let me know if you ever want to stop." He kisses your jaw slightly causing your mouth to open slightly and you nod eagerly. Not caring, just wanting to be with him. His hands grip your waist with need and he pulls your hips closer to his. His head burrows into your neck as he begins to place wet, sloppy kisses along your neck and shoulder.
You let out a shaky breath and he lightly bites down your skin, leaving a hickey; running his tongue over the mark.
"Mine...." He mumbles against your skin, his nose rubbing along. You clutch onto him tighter as your heart hammers in your chest and he moves his lips to your ear where he tugs and pulls it with his teeth gently.
"Simon..." A small moan escapes you and he pulls away and his grip tightens on you. Just enough to form small bruises at the fingertips.
"Yes love?" He whispers huskily, tilting your chin to look at you.
"I...I need you." You squeak, not wanting to waste another moment.
"Needy little thing, ain't you...patience baby." He kisses' you again but more rougher. His tongue runs along your lips, begging for entrance. You open your mouth and his tongue dips into yours. Running it along yours as he entices another soft moan from you. You feel him grow from under you, his pants begin to strain as he kiss's you more. His tongue dancing along yours and you begin to suck on his tongue. He groans and he bites your lip, drawing blood."Fuck...y/n...look how hard you've gotten me already...." He looks down to his pants, a very visible bulge.
"Be a good girl and let it out for me." He growls, you just nod, and your hands slowly reach for his pants. He's still in his work clothes and he watches you with lust, his gaze watching your every move.
"That a girl, just unbuckle my belt and slide my jeans down like a good little girl." He orders and you begin to unbuckle his belt. Your fingers fumbling both from nervousness and excitement.
"It's alright Y/n, You're doing perfect." His words of encouragement are enough to finally undo his belt and you work on his jeans. Once his jeans are off you can see the lining of his shaft through his boxers. He was certainly large and you felt your pussy throb at the sight and you it clenches as you think of what it would be like to feel it. Inside you as he slams it deep inside your core. Hungry you reach your hand into his boxers and your palm grazes along his shaft.
"Ah ah...easy...just pull it out for me, yeah?" He suddenly stops your hand and you slide his boxers down and his cock springs out, precum already leaking from the bud. Some of it runs from your hand and he chuckles lightly.
Your eyes stare at his size, his cock pulsing now and then and you only realize just how much of a mess you are gonna be, the animal inside you going feral as your mouth begins to water.
"Like what you see?" Ghost teases as he looks into your eyes, his eyes full of desire.
"Suck it..." He points to his cock and you blush profusely, you have very little experience to sex. Ghost was your first partner since you never cared for relationships before joining the army.. He notices your reaction and he bends down to cup your cheek.
"Hey it’s okay…I’ll guide you. Just open your mouth for me love. I’ll guide you down.” His hand clutches around his shaft and he aligns the tip with your mouth. You take a deep breath before parting your lips. He carefully slips the tip in and the head rubs along your tongue. Ghost stiffles a groan.
“There ya go…if you can, run your tongue along the bud, get an idea of how big I am.” He soothes and coos you as he praises you. You slowly move your tongue and swirl it along the bud, the sweet nectar of precum dripping slightly down your throat.
“T-thats it…” Ghost rasps, encouraging you more. You begin to gain more confidence and you move further down and Ghost gasps. Taking him in your mouth, sucking and slurping as you grip on his legs for stability.“Oh fuck~...that…that a girl Y/n. You…fuck you feel so good.” Ghost breaths, allowing you to do all the work as he watches your head bob up and down. His hand gripping your hair, he buckles his hips, jerking him deeper down you. You gag by surprise as he hits the back of your throat
“S-sorry…I…you just feel so….you just…god….mmmm.” He groans as you lick your tongue along from his halt to the head, dipping it into his tilt. Precum meeting your tastebuds, making you want more.
“Oh….oh…oh god…oh fucking hell Y/n….such a good girl. Taking me well so easily baby….I’m gonna make sure I reward you.” Ghost groans, enjoying the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his erection.
You gag more, he’s certainly large and you weren't expecting him to be so big, but you take him anyways. The hunger inside you more than your concern for your throat. You begin to suck harder and faster, the reactions from Ghost only driving you more. Just wanting to please him and only him. His cock jerks and moves lightly as you work your magic. Swirling your tongue along his veins with delicacy.
“Oh fuck…I’m close…” He holds himself back just to not raveges your throat here and there but he knows if he did, he’d probably ruin you. So he just clutches the bed sheets.
Ghost pants heavily more and he tilts his head back as you begin to work faster. It’s not long until Ghost lets out a loud groan and you taste a salty, warm liquid fill your mouth, he cums into your mouth, he grunts and moans as he works on filling you with his climax.
“Mmmmmpgh~” Ghost grunts as he pumps a load into you. Feeling the slick trickle down your throat and you take it all. Greedily.
Once you know he’s done you pull away from him, his dick leaving your mouth with a satisfying pop. You breath heavily as you try to regain yourself. Wiping your mouth as some of his seed drips from your chin.
“Good girl….such a good girl for me.” Ghost strokes your chin, wiping away any cum that may have landed on your face. He pats his lap, beckoning you.“Come here…I want to reward my good girl.” He ushes you. You get back up and you sit on his lap once more, his cock still standing upright as it runs along your hoodie, covering it with his cum.
“Such a sweet little thing…” He strokes your cheek and he slowly begins to lift your hoodie. You lift your arms and he removes it in one swift moment. Revealing your chest, his eyes glance at your exposed chest and he doesn't smirk but he just looks at you adoringly.
“So fucking beautiful…” He brings his mouth and makes his way to kiss and suckle along your skin as he moves to your breasts. You gasp and your hands grip onto his hair as he advances to one of your buds. Kissing and licking the nipple. Covering it with his salvia. He laps it like a baby, pulling and biting it gently. You bite back a moan as you didn't know your buds was that sensitive
“God…you are so fucking perfect.” He mumbles as he plays and suckles, enticing moans and whimpers from you. Worshiping you like a goddess, his words like honey as it just makes you fall for him more.
“It’s like an angel themself carved your body…” He purred, closing his eyes as he makes sloppy licks to your other bud. Your body is arching and aching for more. His fingers trail along your skin, capturing and captivating every curve. Like he’s memorizing you like a painting, he rubs small but firm circles along your arms and legs, his lips kissing every inch of you softly and tenderly. He brings his mouth down to your inner thighs, licking and sucking near your cunt as he lifts your shorts up to do so. You let out a small moan in response, knowing how close he is to your sweet spot.
“I suppose it’s only fair I reward you, hmmm?” He chuckles lightly as he pulls away. His hands guiding their way down to your shorts. You whimper, wanting him more and more with each passing second.
Not a second later he dips his hand into your shorts and his fingers find your already soaking wet core.“You’re already soaked, darling…so eager…so needy.” He coos and you buckle your hips in response, the feeling overtaking you as you feel nothing but pure lust for him. He dips one finger inside of your core and you gasp, tilting your head back and he kisses your neck and back, making sure you're comfortable.
“Relax for me…just let me take control.” He begins to stroke and you moans become muffled as you burrow your face into the crook of his neck.
“So sensitive…have you never had sex before?” He whispers, feeling how tight you are on just his finger. You shake your head and he kisses your shoulder.
“Then I shall give you the best first time…” He pushed his finger deeper and you bite your lip, stopping a moan.Your walls clenched around him and he edges deeper and deeper. Once he has his full finger in he begins to thrust, stretching you out.
A loud moan escapes your mouth as you slink into him, grinding your hips along his hand. He lets out a low growl and he suddenly places you down on the bed and pins you, keeping a knee pressed up against your crotch as his hands rub and trail along your skin.His touch soft and gentle as your skin ignites from the simplest of moves as he dips and curves along your frame. God you are in love with him.
“God Y/n, the things you do to me…” He kisses you deeply as he spreads your legs, your soaking shorts drenched with your wetness. He moves his hands and pulls at your shorts before he finally pulls them off. Leaving your completely naked body underneath him, your cunt oozes as it begs for Ghost. His eyes soak your frame up, his gaze lingering but soft. An adoring look in his brown eyes.
“Look at that sweet little cunt…just begging for me.” He chuckles lightly as he traces his fingers along the entrance, you squirm in pleasure from under him as his fingers tease you. He melts at your reaction and he rewards you by pressing his thumb on your clit, earning a moan from you.
He begins to rub it softly, and your head tilts back onto the pillow, the pleasure fills you to your very core as his fingers battle in between your legs. He then carefully slides two fingers in, and you moan in ecstasy as he begins to work on your cunt.
Each stroke and thrust of his fingers, making you squirm and moan for more. You bask in the pleasure that Ghost is giving you and he leans down to continue his battle on your neck with his kiss’s. He nips and bites at your skin, which only increases the pleasure you are already getting from the slow and long thrusts of Ghost's fingers. His fingers curl slightly as he hits the sweet spot each time. You squeal and moan, becoming a complete mess.
#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#ghost smut#simon ghost x reader#call of duty#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#mw2#female reader#cod smut#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#mw2 smut#cod fanfic
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Hi, I hope you are well, I fell in love with Nat's one-shot, so I was encouraged to ask for a request, well there are two that come to my head with different characters.
"Wow, you really never got out of your angsty teenage stage, did you?" with Teen Shauna (sorry it's just that you see those eyes and they bring back a lot of melancholy).
"Please tell me you didn't hold on to that all these years" with Lottie (1996) and Lottie (2021). I think with this one you can play with flashbacks of seeing what happened in the desert and their relationship in that timeline in 1996 as a reunion in 2021 somewhat angsty.
Sorry the request is so long, although I would like to add that I can imagine both requests with f reader, anyway thank you very much for everything, take your time and take care of yourself. ❤️
💚Flower stems for heartstrings - Lottie Matthews (1996 & 2021) x fem!Reader💚
Fanfiction master list
disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately
Summary: y/n finds evidence of her teenage best friend (and secret crush) being alive after all, and a possible way of finding her thanks to modern internet and goes on a personal quest to find her and the truth, all while reminiscing about their teen years...
Warnings: Internalized homophobia, fem reader that dresses both "masc" and "fem", underage drinking and smoking weed, extremely angst but with a good ending
Word Count: 8,758
A/N: woohoo! We've surpassed word count on my longest oneshot with this fic, the record previously being 6,990. And ngl, this might be one of my favorites to date! Lottie is an extra special gal who deserves an extra long one-shot, so of course I'm going to give her extra attention. What can I say, I'm not immune to favoritism. This one was actually so fun! I loved getting to write about excited, young (and medicated, let's be fr) Lottie bc I think we forget just how much the wilderness took a toll on her. She was so lively before, it makes me so sad. But, I hope I was able to give her a little bit of that liveliness back in this fic! I think in the request "desert" was supposed to be wilderness, but I wanted to have the reader be left behind, which adds a whole different kind of angst to the situation. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!💚
Lottie Matthews Tag List:
General Tag List: @summergeezburr
-💚-
You’d only ever felt the way you did now only twice before in your life. Once when word got around that flight 2525 had mysteriously gone down in flames with no trace, and once again when you learned she’s been shipped off to god knows where for some kind of treatment. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to her then and she was gone.
It was a sickly green feeling that had you kneeling over with weak knees and a stone throat. Lottie Matthews, the girl you’d had your heart set on for all of these years, wasn’t gone. She wasn’t locked away or dead like gossip has always said. She was alive and well and looked like she was thriving. And how did you find this out? Through Instagram, of course. That might have been the worst part of all of this.
One minute you’re mindlessly scrolling through your feed when an ad for a farmers market in some part of upstate New York, rather than New Jersey where you resided. But the ad featured a booth selling honey, and low and behold, there she was. Well, the photo didn’t give a clear picture of her face, but you refused to deny that it was her, despite how it made you sick. How could you forget that smile of hers after all?
You had to put your phone away after that, but it didn’t help you sleep. A few hours into staring up at the ceiling, restless with gnawing curiosity, you decided sleep wouldn’t come till you found an answer. Rather spontaneously you packed a bag and got into your car. Was this the smartest thing to do? Hell no, but you had the weekend off for work anyways, and nothing stopped you from going, so you drove through the nightstand into the morning and drove by coffee, a podcast, and the straining urge that you needed to know what was going on.
-💚-
At some point in the night, you found your mind wandering as your eyes trained on the empty highway before you, highlighted by your headlights. You reminisce a time long before, even more than 25 years ago. Back when you had been a freshman in high school during your lunch period. You moved to Wiskayok, New Jersey late in the year, giving you an even later start to your first year of high school. You’d relatively been left alone and had decided you'd be alright with that. Not everyone can have friends right? So, alone you sat outside on the school's field, picking at the grass underfoot having already finished your lunch.
Some students around you sat on the track or the stadium's bleachers with their friends, enjoying company and comradery or whatever and you didn’t like to admit how it made you jealous. But what was there for you to do to change it? You refused to look desperate and walk up to random groups of people who would probably talk about how lame you are behind your back-
“Hey, you alright?” the sudden voice in your direction yanked you out of your self-deprecating thoughts. Looking up you had to squint your eyes to try and make out who was talking to you as the sun shone in your eyes till they tilted their head, blocking it. After some adjustment from the sunspots in your eyes, you were greeted with a shy yet warm smile.
“Um, yeah, I’m fine,” you uttered awkwardly, swallowing the frog in your throat that had your voice croaking. The girl chuckled and tottered down to the ground to sit beside you in the grass. She dressed well, was one of the first things you noticed. Her pink skirt and tall white socks were very countering to your grass-stained jeans, scuffed hightops, and t-shirt.
“You sure, because you’re all by yourself,” she said rather matter of factly.
“Well, maybe I like being alone. Think of that,” she arched her brow curiously. “And as far as I know you’re alone too,” she chuckled again with a little huff.
“Tuche,” was all she replied, but she had a stupidly shiny grin on her face. Next, she reached out her hand to shake. “I’m Charlotte, by the way. But most people call me Lottie,” you hesitated for a standing moment, only staring at her hand as you kept yours loosely wrapped around your knees till you gave in, shaking her hand in greeting.
“I’m y/n,”
“Well y/n, tell me about yourself,” she spent the rest of that lunch period at your side, asking questions about you in exchange for the little tidbits you were willing to give her. It was so strange, looking back now, how a because girl decided you looked lonely you'd be driving to upstate New York on a random Thursday night due to your desperation to find her again.
Lottie had always been charismatic. She liked people. She looked at them like puzzles made special for her to figure out. Maybe that was her way of avoiding herself, or maybe she just had a natural curiosity for those she didn’t understand. But from that day on, she hadn’t left you alone. She’d excitedly greet you in the halls, and invite you out with her friends and to late-night parties. She was the one who integrated you into the community and helped you find a place.
But she also became your best friend. However, you struggled to feel like you were hers sometimes. She was so bright and colorful, full of life and boy was she popular. She always had someone with her, unless she found the time for you exclusively, which dwindled more and more as high school progressed. Of course, this is a concern you could talk to her about but you didn’t want to bother. In truth, you feared your feelings were driven by selfishness. You thought you'd never voice it, but oh, how you undoubtedly adored Lottie Matthews.
You felt her encase you when she was close and her laugh was enough to have you swooning. You thrived in her presence and basked in the littlest bit of attention she may offer you. Her touch was electrifying and when she grabbed your hand when she greeted you you felt what had to be magic. But of course, you could never tell. Sure, you knew you were gay and you were so fortunate that you’re mother said it was ok, but you’d never tell, ever. Even if the ache felt like it was squeezing you, you couldn’t lose Lottie. You didn’t want to scare her away and be a freak.
Part of you wonders if that’s why you'd lost Lottie after all. You hadn’t been honest with her. No, that wasn’t rational. A secret didn’t take down an airplane.
-💚-
You didn’t arrive till mid-afternoon, late morning, the sun high above as you made your way towards this market. They had their location posted online, so with a quick search and an input to your mapping app you were all set to go. Moments like that reminded you of how on your road trips with your mother growing up she'd have you read the map in the passenger's seat beside her, your finger tailing over the highways towards the little star sticker added on to be your final destination. Strange how so little time felt like it had passed since then yet a whole life as well.
Venders had been set up for some time now and enjoying the comfortable air as they mingled and shopped. You hooked a tote bag over your shoulder to look less conspicuous (although there inherently isn’t anything conspicuous about a middle-aged queer woman at a farmers market, still. You felt a need to keep a low profile). You wandered for some time, looking for a stall that said something like sunset honey, or maybe it was sunnyside. Something involving both the sun and honey, and it looked like the people working wore a lot of purples.
Honestly, it was a very nice market in itself. Had you had ulterior motives for attending you would have quite enjoyed it. That is still you grew distracted by a florist’s stand. The owner had lovely premade bouquets that ranged in a variety of colors and sizes, but what caught your eye where the assortment of white and pastel metal buckets housing small assortments of different flowers, meant to be starters for gardening. In particular stood out the small purple flowers known for growing naturally back home, in Wiskayok. You tentatively reached out to stroke the petals.
You hadn’t formally been invited to the party, but it was one of those words get around kind of things, she no one was actually invited, right? At least, that's what you'd told yourself as you got ready in your room, obsessively messing with your hair in the mirror. It was one of those beer-guzzling bonfire things that the seniors hosted on the outskirts of the woods now and then. This time, however, the justification was the girl's soccer team going to nationals, and after the whole pep rally earlier in the day, it did sound justified.
You pulled back from the mirror to look back down at your clothes. You'd layered a black plaid dress with thin straps over a white sweater that’s sleeves cut off just below your elbow with tights and docs. You tugged at your coller, attempting not to grimace. Sure, you liked dressing feminine now and then, but when it came to events like this you couldn’t help the anxiety, especially with drunk boys. But still, you wanted to look nice, even if the drinks being served were from a beer keg. It just felt like one of those nights, you figured. You sighed and forced yourself to leave as there was a car horn honking outside, grabbing your backpack along the way as you went. It’d be good to have a quick getaway available to you if need be.
“Have fun, hun! Make good choices for me, ok?” your mom called to you from the couch, watching one of her late-night shows while sipping tea and crocheting something as you went downstairs. You smiled, walked up beside her at the end of the couch, and kissed her forehead.
“I will, mama, I promise,” you forced a tiny smile. She hummed her thanks and smiled, opening her eyes to take a look at you.
“Show me this little number you assembled for me,” she said, taking off her eyeglasses and gesturing up and down with her crochet hook as she readjusted in her seat to get a better view. You stretched out an arm, the other firmly holding your backpack to your shoulder, and did a turn around for her. She smiled wide and gave you playful applause.
“Cute! And do you like it? Everything fits well?”
“Yes, Mom, I promise,” you sighed, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. It was a new dress you hadn’t worn yet and you knew she was only doing the classic mom routine but you had to go!
“Alright, you go have fun. And tell your friend Charlotte good luck at nationals!” she called after you as you shut the door front door and locked it. You turned, illuminated by your porchlight, and waved to your ride. Van had the passenger window of Taisa’s car down and she waved back with a confident grin on her face. You could hear Depeche Mode playing on the radio as you approached the car. You opened the door and slid inside with a quick smile.
“Thanks for the ride, Taissa,” you said, trying not to sound as shy as you felt. She smiled in the rearview mirror, checking her surroundings as she turned down the radio.
“Yeah, no problem girl,” she said with effortless confidence. You didn’t know Taissa or Van, or much of the school's soccer team all that well, but in your mutual connection to Lottie over the past four years you’d tagged along with them quite often and they’d always been nice to you.
“We couldn’t say no after Lottie was so adamant we were nice,” Van joked quite loudly to Taissa, giving you an up and down with that grin again. You stared for a second, unsure of what she was trying to imply till Taissa smacked the goalie in the arm with the back of her hand, hissing her name to make her shut up as she started driving. The redhead let out an undignified yelp.
“She’s being an asshole. And confusing. Lottie wanted you to come and she knew we’d be the best people to pick you up is all,” you still had a confused look on your face, your shoulders hunched inward.
“Um ok, thanks?” you said it more like a question.
“What she means, is that we like you. And we’ll tell you we like you,” Van chimed in again. She wasn’t as helpful to you as she thought she was.
“Right, ok. Is there something else going on that I’m not cluing in on?” Tai and Van shared a knowing look.
“Ok, so the other day Lot kept going on about how she worries that you don’t feel like we’re all friends, and doesn’t want you to feel like you’re just her other friend that tags along, ya know? So we figured we pick you up and tell you that, because some of the other girls on the team aren't the best at communicating, ya know?”
“Oh. So we're friends?” you sounded far more surprised and eager than you would have wanted to. “And Lottie told you all that? About me, I mean?” Van grinned once more, fully turning around in her seat.
“Yeah, dude! I think you’re really cool actually!” you began to smile more than before and leaned back, straightening up your posture.
“And, yes, Lot had all that to say and more,” Tai added on. You were thankful for the dark car hiding any color that might have rushed to your face.
“She talks about you all the time,” Van blabbed on. Tai gave her a look that told the goalie to keep quiet now. Just as she did you pulled up to another house in the neighborhood that has Lottie sitting on the front porch. She shot up when she saw the car but took a last-minute look at the front door like she was waiting for something. Van maneuvered in her seat to hang out the window. “Hurry up slowpoke or we’ll be late to our party,” Lottie all but yelped and ran to the car after that, toward your side of the car.
You didn’t have enough time to move out of the way and before you knew it Lottie had flung the door open with an exhilarated grin, laughing as she climbed in over your lap to collapse in the seat beside you in the back. She’d picked to wear all pink, which was just so fitting for her. You noticed in particular that she was wearing one of her shorter skirts that she giggled to you about hiding from her mother.
“Shut the door and go!” she said through giggles, and once you had the time to process what was happening you did just that, closing the now-opened door to your right, and Taissa was off. Lottie lunged forward in her seat and punched Van in the shoulder, laughing all the while. “God, fuck you! I could have been caught because of that,” she griped as Van dramatically clutched her arm.
“Ugh, what’s with beating on the goalie tonight? I gotta stay fit for nationals and I’ll be covered in bruises at this rate,”
“Whatever. You’re always covered in bruises, and not all of them are from soccer,” Lottie implied, her hands gripping Taissa’s headrest in front of her so she could lean forward and talk to the two girls up front. That is till she scooted back to give you her full attention.
“Well, you’re liking fine as hell tonight hot stuff! Have you been hiding this little number?” Lottie asked, reaching out to touch the material of the dress you were wearing along your leg. You managed to force a laugh and playfully swatter her hand away with shifty eye contact.
“It’s new. My mom got it for me during our last mall trip. She wanted me to expand my wardrobe or whatever,” you played off causally. Lottie gave you a knowing smile and sighed as she turned to look out the window.
“I think it looks great, just like you always do,” she murmured rather quietly. You weren't even sure you were supposed to hear her. Not long after Tai parked and you all got out of the car. Van yelled something at the crowd that had already gotten things started and there was a low collection of howling and yelling in response to her. Lottie got out of the car before you but stopped and waited by your door for you to get out with her. She said nothing but had that perky smile on the whole time as she watched you expectantly.
“So, whatcha wanna do?” you asked. She shrugged.
“I dunno. Maybe get reeeeeally drunk,” she toyed, reaching out to take your hand like it had become second nature. Tai walked up to the two of you from the driver seat of the car, double-checking as she locked it shut and shoved her keys in her jacket pocket. She made a purposefully obvious glance down at your entwined fingers then back up to Lottie.
“Careful Lot, people might talk,” she said with what Lottie took as a comfortable coolness but it sent a shiver down your back that caused you to think about pulling away.
“Pfft! I don't give a flying fuck! Let them talk!” she announced quite loudly, leaning forward with her free hand on her hip. She turned her gaze back to you and wiggled her brows as she grinned. “Come on. Get a drink with me,” she urged, tugging you away from Taissa.
“Don’t listen to her. No one is looking, and if they are they don’t care. What’s wrong with holding hands anyway?” Lottie babbled on as she pulled you in line for a beer with her. She was still holding onto your hand quite tight as she jumped into rambling about something related to her French class. Maybe a recent test? You weren't exactly sure. Despite everything she’d said before, it felt like everyone was looking, but not because of you. Because of Lottie. She was the pretty, popular girl while you were just the weirdo she hung around. With that idea in your head, it was pretty hard to not be self-continuous. You were so in your head that you didn’t notice her shoving a beer in your hand.
“Wha- oh, thanks,” you stuttered. You'd let go of her hand to get your drink, opting to use both hands to hold it. Lottie frowned as she was handed her drink ans thanked the guy passing them out.
“Hey, you alright? Lost you for a sec,” she murmured. She’d become so gentle all of a sudden. Were you really that fragile? She forced a smile and nodded.
“Yeah, I'm great. Just haven't gotten into the party mood yet, I guess,”
“Oh, ok. Do you wanna step away, clear your head a bit?” you shook your head no.
“Nah, I'm good. I’m just gonna grab something from my bag in Tai’s car, ok?” Lottie tilted her head, almost like she was trying to look at you from a new angle.
“I can go with you,” she offered. God, why did she have to be so attentive and sweet?
“I promise I’ll be fine-” you started only for a distraction to catch your eye. “Hey, Shauna and Jackie are over that way. I’ll meet up with you when I’m done,” you offered, dialing up that chipper tone as high as you could. She finally gave in and nodded, making her way over to her other friends while you crept away to dash toward Tai, wherever she was. You eventually found her after dodging around cars and trees listening to Van argue with a group of boys about something sports-related probably. That honestly wasn’t a huge concern of hers at the moment.
“Hey, Taissa. can I borrow your keys?” Taissa arched a brow.
“You’re not trying to use my car to go joyriding or to fuck, right?”
“What? Oh my god- no. I just wanna get something from my bag. It’s in the car,”
“Where's Lot?” why is that relevant right now?
“She’s with Jackie and Shauna,” you began messing with the loose hair falling in your face, averting your eyes from her. Tai gave you an up and down before tugging at Van’s jacket.
“Van, go with y/n to my car, ok?”
“I was just in the middle-” Van started till Tai arched a brow and she gave in. Tai dropped her keys in the redhead's hand and you were off to the car again.
“Do you already wanna leave?” Van asked, walking backward in front of you.
“No, I just want something from my bag,” Van slowed to walk in stride with her hands in her pockets, watching you as you watched everyone who passed.
“Care to share?” you just looked at her and finally managed a laugh.
“I’ll share when we get there,” upon reaching the car and unlocking it, you grabbed your bag and made your way to a more secluded edge over the party where you’d be left alone, Van trailing close behind till you set your solo cup on the ground, sat down saddle style on an old, knocked-over log to rummage through your bag. You pulled out a baggy you’d been holding onto and a lighter.
“Damn, y/n, I didn’t think you the type,” the goalie said as she dropped down across from you. “Where’d ya get it?” she asked, taking the joint you pulled out to share.
“My older brother. He lives with my dad while he’s going to school and I visited him over Christmas and he gave me a few that I use quite sparingly.
“Divorced?” she asked, referring to your parents. You shrugged.
“Kinda, but not really? It’s weird. They still like each other and get along but they aren't exclusive by any means. Dad works in Cali while mom moved here to look after her mom who’s a few houses down from us,” you explained as you fidgeted with the lighter, fixated on the way the flame moved up and down, on and off. Van snatched it out of your hand during an “off” moment to light the joint now placed firmly between her teeth.
You simply watched her process, lighting the joint and then taking in a long breath before holding and letting it go with a sigh as though she was relieved before passing it to you. She did the same, watching your breath in with your eyes shut only to exhale into the dark, finishing off with a small cough before passing it once again. You could see streetlights from the main road from here, you realized.
“You’re into Lot, aren’t you?” her voice was low to not attract attention, but she was confident in what she had asked. You paused, staring out at the lights just a short walk away. Normally, an insinuation that you were gay would have you panicked. It could have been the weed, but maybe you'd relaxed and found some sliver of comfort in the redhead, your new companion.
“I think I do,” you whistled through your teeth at your admission. You turned to meet her eyes when she nudged your shoulder with the side of her hand, passing the joint off again. “Think I’m a lost cause?” Van snorted and shook her head.
“Oh, hell no. That girl’s crazy about you,” Van said with a sigh, leaning back on her hands where she was sitting on the log. “Now, I don’t know what type of way she feels. Sexual, romantic, or just friendship. But there's something there. Lot’s banked a lot on you,” you began to smile again, soft and mellow as you took another hit. After that one, you leaned down to take a chug of your beer. You offered to pass again, but Van had turned her attention back to the party, particularly to Taissa who looked like she was getting shit from Shauna. Even from over her, you could tell she was wasted given how she stumbled around. Van groaned and got up from where she was sitting.
“Keep it. I gotta deal with this,” she huffed as she left. You watched her go, eyes trailing after her to meet with Lottie’s, who was staring right at you, arm crossed over her chest and cup in hand. She seemed to hesitate between you and her arguing friends, but when the debate got particularly loud she turned with a furrowed brow. You watched her go and kept watching till Jackie derailed the entire situation, pulling all the girls away likely to yell at them. With that done, you sighed, leaning back to fully lie on the log, the joint between your lips and legs dangling over either side as you shut your eyes.
“You hiding from me over here?” you opened your eyes. The joint was nearly out as it had just been sitting between your teeth for who knows how long by now. Lottie stood over you, arms still crossed as she held onto her nearly drained drink. you shook your head, sitting up as she sat down beside you on your left, much closer than Van had been. You readjusted, sitting properly with both legs over one side of the log, shoulders hunched. Lottie's arm brushed against yours when she moves. “You didn’t come back,” she simply steed with no malice or accusation in her voice. You shrugged.
“I was getting overwhelmed I guess,” you murmured. “Didn’t feel like talking,”
“You seemed chatty with Van” Again, she simply stated fact. You sighed and leaned down to take another drink. Lottie took the joint from your hand. You watched, then reached for the lighter to give it a second wind. She held it between her forefinger and thumb for you and once it ignited once more it found home between her lips. You watched, sipping your beer. She smoked far prettier than Van had.
“Van’s a good listener guess. Doesn’t talk too much,” Lottie snorted out a laugh at that.
“I don't think anyone has ever said ‘Van Palmer doesn’t talk much’” you chuckled out a soft laugh to match hers. You looked away, out at the lights again. Lottie took another breath in, letting the joint sit between her fingers with her crossed arms. She watched the lights with you, though she might not understand the fixation you seemed to have on them. That is, till she paused, turning fully to watch you. She tilted her head again, unexpectedly brushing her fingers over your temple to guide loose hair obstructing her view out of the way and behind your ear. “Let me kiss you,” she murmured, almost as though she was pleading. You turned back to her. Her hand settled on your cheek, fingertips curiously brushing over the apple of your cheek.
“Don’t kid me,” you whispered, eyes glazing as you darted down to her parted lips.
“Never,” she shook her head ever so slightly. It made her hair sway. You swallowed hard but shakily nodded. That was enough of a yes for her to move in. She immediately dropped the joint in her hand and the hand tracing your cheek found home on the back of your neck. Her now free hand rested behind your ear, stroking your hair as you latched onto her waist, using your left hand to hold you up on the log.
She kissed like she knew exactly what she was doing. As though this had all been part of a longstanding plan. She’d envisioned this just as you had, and fuck was it perfect. Her lisp whereas urgent as your own and had it not been a public space you might have let her do anything she wanted to you right then and there. She scrunched her fist into your hair, unintentionally pulling ever so lightly on your scalp and eliciting a sudden moan from your throat which only egged her on further till she had to pull away with you chasing after her.
You opened your eyes wide, lips still parted as you gasped for breath in and out. And then, of course, you got shy, anxious voices telling you she’d regret this immediately. You began to turn from her but the hand in your hair let go and moved to trace knuckles over your cheek and subsequently turn your eyes back to her. She shook her head, murmuring no over and over, soothing you like a child about to cry. And at that thought, the thought of crying alone, you felt the tears spike in your eyes. She watched your brow crinkle as your lip trembled and she pulled you into her chest, holding you as close as she could.
The hand on your neck found your back as the hand on your cheek moved to cup the back of your head. You buried into your neck as you cried, and she rested her cheek against your scalp, murmuring over and over how it was all ok. She kissed your hair, rubbed your back, and rocked you from side to side as your hands vigorously clung to her sweater, fearing letting her go, because what if the magic would be over and gone when she was out of your hands?
But reluctantly you needed to let her go, and eventually, that point came where you emerged from her embrace, the scent of her shampoo and perfume fading from you quickly as you met her puffed, teary gaze. She moved to hold your cheeks in her hands as her breath shook. You held your hands around hers, kissing her palm with a weak smile. Fortunately, that had her let go of a watery laugh. But neither of you spoke yet. You just sat in warm silence till you readjusted to be side by side once more, your head lulled to her shoulder with her cheek at your temple.
“Fuck, what do we even do after that?” you breathed, eyes training down to the long discarded joint and red solo cups with only sips left of beer in them, though yours has spilled at some point, soaking the ground under it.
“I leave tomorrow,” she murmured back. You dressed your lips together before letting go of another sigh.
“I know… we should have waited” she chuckled sleepily.
“I don’t think so,” you hummed your why. “I’ll be excited to get back here. Well, more excited than I already was to see you,” you chuckled, though your tongue dripped with wordless sarcasm.
“Don’t forget about me,”
“Oh, how could I ever after that?” she teased with another giggle. You smiled, nuzzling your nose into her shoulder. With the change in direction, you got an idea upon seeing a small purple flower growing just beside her shoe.
“I know how,” you started, reaching across her side to pick it, leaving a nice, long stem to tuck behind her ear and in her hair. You sat back to admire your work and smiled. “Purple suits you,” you decided, tucking some of the hair behind her ear for a better look at your work. She chuckled with a sniffle, her fingers gently wrapping around your palm, catching you to kiss your fingertips.
“Mam, are you alright?” you were dragged out of your daydream like a shockwave and had to take several moments to ground yourself again, taking in a deep breath. You blinked repeatedly, shaking your head before forcing a smile.
“Yes, I’m so sorry. I was remembering something I needed,” you said with a forced chuckle. The florist smiled, though he seemed a little unsure. You turned back to the flower, petal still gently settled between your fingers. “I’ll take this, while I’m here,” you said as you cleared your throat, gently picking up the small white bucket and giving it to the florist to ring up.
“Ah, Ruellia caroliniensis. But it’s better known as Carolina Wild Petunia. A good choice. Pick it for any reason? I ask everybody that,” he asked, making meaningless small talk. Your eyes stayed focused on the waving petals of the plant as it was gently jostled around.
“It just reminded me of someone I knew, I guess,” he smiled thoughtfully and nodded with a soft hum of acknowledgment before he asked you for cash or charge. You picked charge which resulted in you digging through your purse for your card.
“Oh my god! y/n! A shrill voice called when you weren’t looking and just as you pulled out your debit card. You gave the florist you’re card before turning to look who it might be only to have the Misty Quigley herself approaching you with the wide smile and outstretched arms that you felt you had to reciprocate. She squeezed you quite tight and when she let go her hands remained at your side for a moment as she seemed to look at you in awe.
“Well, what the heck are you doing here?” she asked tilting her head with that smile still plastered across her lips till she gasped “Oh! Are you looking for Nat too?” you furrowed your brow and frowned.
“What? No, I’m-”
“Uh, mam, you’re purchase?” the florist interrupted. You turned from Misty to grab your new belonging, which he had been so kind and bagged for you as well as outstretching your card back to you.
“Yes, thank you so much! I truly appreciate it!” you said as chipperly as you could before ushering Misty out of the man’s stall and towards a clearing. “What, what are you talking about with Natalie?”
“She got kidnapped!” the blond exclaimed, adjusting her glasses. “She was taken from the motel she was staying in back home and we’re here to find her,” she blabbered on.
“Hold on, when did Nat get out of rehab and who is we?”
“I dunno, a few weeks ago I think? So much had been going on and it's been hard to keep track and ‘we’ is me and Walter,” you were still confused about the situation and about to ask who Walter was when the man himself showed up. He’d be trailing behind Misty for some time, just casually in the background. He was so average you hadn’t even noticed him. The man waved and offered a smile. You tentatively returned the wave but still seemed confused.
“I’m not here for Natalie. I didn’t hear about that at all. No, I’m looking for Lottie,” you said rather bluntly. Misty frowned and it was now her turn to be confused.
“Lottie? But she’s been in Switzerland for years-”
“Well I thought that too will I saw this,” you whispered, hissing through your teeth as you frantically pulled out your phone and the screenshot you’d taken of the farmers market Instagram post, zooming in on Lottie and shoving the device into her hands.
“No, that can’t be her,”
“It is. I just- it’s not a great angle but I know it’s her,” you insisted. Misty began to scan the photo curiously, zooming back out when she let out a dramatic gasp and began excitedly smacking at your arm.
“Purple people!” you yelled. “Purple people!” she repeated it to Walter this time, which summoned him to rush over and huddle around your phone.
“The purple people took Natalie!” she explained with far too much excitement for your liking.
“Could they have taken Lottie,” Misty shrugged.
“I dunno, maybe. But only one way to find out!” She shoved your phone back in your hand and began aggressively powerwalking away with Walter tight on her heels. You hesitated momentarily before shutting your phone off and shoving it into your purse, hustling after them.
“Wait! Do you know where to go?”
“Yes! Of course! We found out from the other stalls,” she called back. “Get in your car and follow us!” she sounded far too excited for this whole ordeal, but what other options did you have to find Lottie? You ran back to your car, got in, and started with heavy breath ready to take the next step on this crazy adventure you found yourself on.
-💚-
After quite a bit of driving, they pulled off into a bed and breakfast parking lot and parked. You parked beside them and got out with a frustrated expression.
“We're not going tonight.” Misty rolled her eyes and she pulled her suitcase out of the trunk of what you assumed was Walter’s car.
“Someone,” she was heavily implying someone to be Walter, especially with the annoyed, flat-mouthed looks he gave him “wanted to wait till morning because he thinks the cult will expect us at night,” you gave her a look that asked “really” and Misty threw up a hand, shaking her head as she grabbed onto her luggage.
“I know! Trust me, I know, but captain’s orders,” she huffed as she followed Walter into the B&B. You paused, letting out an exasperated sigh before going to grab your duffle back and your plant. You hear Misty muttering about not using her real name as she and Walter get a room.
“And it's just for one room, right?” the concierge asked. There was an irritatingly comedic back and forth of yes, and no, then both of them settled on no, two rooms would be fine.
“And, um, you can put mine under the name Lady Mallowan,” Misty gave herself a name straight out of Clue or a shitty romance novel and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes.
“Seventeen and eighteen. Up the stairs to the right,” then went back and forth with thank yous as they clumsily took their keys, then started deliberating about luggage when Walter offered to take the suitcase off of Misty’s hands.
“Just one room under y/n l/n is fine, please,” you said simply. You saw Misty and her new boyfriend exchange an appalling look and you had to refrain from laughing.
“Room nineteen,”
“That’s great, thanks” You dropped your things upon entry, but gently placed your plant in its bed on the nightstand before collapsing on your bed with a long sigh. Of course, you'd need to get up and change, but for now, lying on your back in a bed that wasn’t yours was all you could feel like doing. That is till you got up from said bed and disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a small paper cup of water that you set on the nightstand as you sat on the edge of the bed. You tentatively opened the bag that held your plant and took it out, setting it on the stand to be out and in the fresh air. You gave it a light drink from the cup before you returned to the bathroom for a shower.
-💚-
You were woken by Misty’s knock at you’re door bright and early at seven-thirty and back on the road by eight after grabbing complimentary breakfast to go. It was a rather long drive to wherever you were going, but you once again found ways to fill the time. That is till Walter took a screeching u-turn that almost caused a car crash on a winding, wet wooded road, but that was a conversation for later. You pulled up beside them and followed as they now stood excitedly outside a green gate that happened to have a matching bee on it. All you carried with you was your tote bag with your plant tucked away inside. Why you felt the need to bring it, you weren't sure, but it felt necessary.
“The bee is where the purple people are!” Misty insistently explained.
“Ok, do we need to call them ‘the purple people”
“Well, yes, but that's only till we get a better name for them. But anyway,” without another word of it, Misty ducked under the gate herself and began walking up the road.
“Ok, we’re getting hit by a car if we do that-” you started but she shook her head.
“It'll be fine. It looks decently short,”
“Well what about my car?” you urged.
“Just lock it! Who’s pulling over in the rain to rob an unattended car out here?” you sighed with exasperation.
“I dunno, maybe people from the cult we’re actively visiting,” you mumbled to yourself.
“What was that!”
“Nothing!” you huffed, following after Misty and now Walter, who had started moving shortly after her. She’d been right though. It was a rather short walk with no cars. You found yourself in what looked like a parking lot in the middle of the woods blocking off yet another road with an even larger fence in front of it. Misty and Walter were actively messing with an intercom system that seemed to have worked as they excitedly returned to your side.
“Alright, so the man on the other end, I think his name was Jack or Jackson- anyway, he’s getting Natalie and she's coming to meet us here,”
“But what about Lottie?” Misty adjusted her glasses and folded her arms with a shrug.
“I thought we could have Natalie confirm that, because we know she’s in there-”
“You don’t believe me,” you interrupted as she began trailing off.
“Well, we do not want to be making outlandish accusations to strangers, I mean-” she got easily distracted by the sound of someone walking down the pebbled path.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Nataline started with heavy irritation.
“Oh, thank God you're safe,” Misty would have hugged her by now had the gate not been in her way.
“Safe? What are you talking about?” her attention turned to you and her eyes widened with further confusion “Hi, y/n,” she added tentatively. You awkwardly waved as she gave you a nod.
“And who the fսck is this?” she gestured to Walter now.
“Walter,” he simply introduced himself with a wave and a light chuckle before going on. “I've heard nothing but wonderful things about you” Natalie scrunched her nose, clearly not caring all that much about what impression Misty had given him of her upon first meeting.
“We're here to rescue you!” Misty eagerly interjected again. “I mean, you-you were kidnapped, right?”
“No. Uh, yes, technically I was, but it's no big deal, okay?” the notion that Natalie’s kidnapping wasnt that big of a deal was bewildering to Misty as seen on her face, but honestly you understood her reaction.
“Lottie sent some people for me, but I'm not being held against my will,” she muttered, twisting her neck as she spoke. “Well, not anymore” It was now your turn to perk up.
“I'm sorry, Lottie?”
“I told you she was here,” you hissed through your teeth at Misty, moving closer to the fencing.
“Wait- as in Lottie? Lottie, who was committed to a mental institution in Switzerland? That Lottie?”
“Yes, Misty, that's the one,” Natalie turned to you once more “I'm assuming you had your theories or whatever?”
“Oh, I’m not here with them-” you paused. “Ok, originally I was coming here all on my own, but we ran into each other, and well,” from there you gave up.
“Wait, Natalie, Natalie!” Misty derailed the conversation once again. “You're gonna have to elaborate,
“Look, she runs a place here, and she's helping me reflect or whatever. So, you and your Hardy Boy can go home,” she looked Walter up and down again about Hardy Boy.
“But…”
“I'm doing a fսcking thing here, Misty. I don't need you getting in my way,” she’d lost patience with the blonde’s interruptions and persistence and in all honestly, you felt bad for her given how she shrank back at the raised tone. But she quickly toughened back up, turned on her heels, and marched back in the direction you'd come.
“She seems nice,” Walter tried to lighten the mood. Natalie sighed with either exhaustion or irritation, watching them go before her eyes drifted to you, still standing in front of her. “You’re not done too?”
“Natalie, I need to see her,” she let out a scoffish chuckle and sighed through her nose.
“Oh, I’m sure you do,”
“I’m serious, Natalie,”
“Oh no, I can tell you are, don’t worry. Just- just give me a minute, alright. Let me ask my guy,” she began to turn but waited for you to nod before actually leaving. You stood still, turning to check your surroundings once more just to be as sure as possible. Natalie returned quite quickly with a man behind her. She shrugged, seeming surprised by the verdict herself as the gate’s electric lock began to unlatch letting you in.
“Uh, my car is still parked with some of my things,” Natalie was already shaking her head.
“We can have someone come and retrieve it all later,” Natalie’s companion started ad Natalie turned, already heading up the hill for a second time.
“But you're not gonna need it!” she yelled behind her. Due to her eagerness to leave the scene, you were left walking beside the strange man who let you in.
“So, I'm assuming you’re Jack or…” you drawled off but he chuckled, appreciating your intention.
“Jeferson,” he cleared.
“Right, ok. Nice to meet you,” you nodded, your hands clutching quite tight to the straps of your tote bag. “Look, I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m only here to see Lottie not join your… well join whatever you're up to,” he laughed again and nodded.
“Don’t worry. She knows you're here,” a shive rushed down your spine as you realized what was happening. “I’m instructed to take her to you, actually,”
“Oh. wow, that’s just great. Yeah, great,” you whispered to yourself as you bit your lip, questioning if this was going to be a good idea after all. When you looked up again, taking a deep breath you were met with quite a beautiful scene before you. It was a nice, well-organized camp on a lake with cabins and what you assumed were social areas all around and throughout the woods. You paused for a moment to take it in and wonder, did Lottie make all of this?
“Charlotte is waiting this way, Ms. l/n,” Jeferson interrupted your wonderings.
“Mhm, I’m coming,” you had to manually tell your feet to move before you could follow him to the separate cabin that must be Lottie’s. He had already walked up the stairs by the time you approached the porch, taking a moment to appreciate its handiwork before trudging up the creaking wood. Jefferson opened the door but didn’t enter, only gesturing for you to go in.
“Charlotte will be here as soon as she can step away,” he explained as you cautiously walked in. You nodded, turning around to give him your thanks but he was already shutting the door, leaving you to your own devices. For a moment you stood completely still, watching the wooden door anticipating her walking in at any second, but after a few seconds of stillness, your foot began bouncing with building anxiety squeezing at your chest.
“Shit,” you hissed, turning to look around your surroundings and find something to help you calm down. You put your bag on the table, but take the time to take the plant out and set it beside your bag. You rubbed your sweating palms on your pants and began to wander around the single room you found yourself in. Her main space was split into a small lounge-ish office space with a kitchen on the other half.
You assumed the bathroom and her bedroom were down in the back of the cabin and with a craning of your neck you could see in one of the rooms but you decided it best to leave that be. Wandering around the office space you ran your fingertips over the edge of her desk. You peaked over the edge, curiosity winning momentarily before you restrained yourself, instead turning to the art hung on her wall featuring deer and other wilderness things before resigning yourself to the couch facing her desk.
You flopped down rather unceremoniously but couldn't help sitting stiff, hunched forward with your knee bouncing in anticipation. Your eyes trained on her desk again, which was mostly bare of anything decor-like other than the two small picture frames. You forced yourself to look away till your nerves kicked in again and you were back up and taking the large one into your hands. It featured a classic team photo of the soccer team back in high school, but earlier on during your sophomore year.
You chuckled lightly scanning over the baby faces your old friends used to have. Having something familiar to look at was relaxing, you decided. Maybe not the most morally correct thing, but this was an exceptional situation. So, you moved on to the small one, thinking none of it till she got a look and your heart dropped again. Pressed pristinely against the glass was an all too familiar flower, nearly identical to the one you'd been carrying for the past day and a half. Only this one had far more wear to it, clearly showing its age. It had faded in color over time, taking on hues of parchment brown rather than the vibrant purples you’d been familiar with. You traced over the shapes of the petals, likely dry and dusty to the touch by now over its safety net of glass. That is till you heard the carbon door abruptly shut.
And oh, she was perfect. She was sickeningly, stunningly perfect but all you could do was freeze where you stood, grip tightening around the small wooden frame in your clasp out of fear you might drop it if you didn’t squeeze tight. And she stood just as stunned at you. Age had encompassed her face all this time, but it was still her face. The one you had ingrained in your mind, so much more detailed than any photograph. You felt your chin begin to quiver.
“Please tell me you didn't hold on to that all these years" You had to force it out with your breath ad your brow bowed with the strain of keeping it together. And then she laughed. She laughed her laugh, now blossoming with the beautiful thing that is age, just as every other part of her was. She moved toward you as though she was floating. She took her caftan off so smoothly it was like the breeze itself removed it for her. And before anything else, she took the frame from your hands, fingertips brushing together only for a moment. She returned it to its place before shakily turning back to you, tears drizzling from her eyes as she smiled.
“How could I not,” she murmured with a laugh full of exasperated joy as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her hands hovered over your arms as though she feared touching you would break the illusion, but with the way your lip trembled and tears rolled from your eyes as you held back a strangled sob she couldn’t refrain herself. It all felt so new and old all at once and oh, how overwhelming she was, her hands cupped at your face, thumbs stroking at your tears as you let it all go, sopping into her.
Just as she had years before she murmured sweet nothing promising that you were safe and you were here, but not only you. After so much time she needed the reassurance of reality just as much. She pulled you in, just as before and your nose found its rightful place in the curve of her neck as her cheek found your scalp. She held you up and close as your knees began to shake and you had to grip onto her shoulder blades for what felt like dear life. You needed to feel her to truly know that she was here, she was real and she was yours, as were you.
#fanfiction requests#fic request#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#yellowjackets fanfic#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets requests#yellowjackets#lottie matthews#lottie matthews x reader#yellowjackets spoilers
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I posted 182 times in 2022
That's 182 more posts than 2021!
(edit: lololo not shit sherlock.. this blog didn't exist then 🤣🤣🤣👌)
176 posts created (97%)
6 posts reblogged (3%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@otomiya-tickles
@intheticklecloset
@theatregaymer
I tagged 182 of my posts in 2022
#dokidoki asks - 135 posts
#tickling - 25 posts
#dokidoki thoughts - 24 posts
#art - 21 posts
#dokidoki spice - 20 posts
#not art - 9 posts
#just text xD - 8 posts
#dokidoki requests - 7 posts
#yoi - 7 posts
#yuri on ice - 6 posts
Longest Tag: 127 characters
#can't decide if this is a ramble or a rant xD but honestly just let people enjoy what they enjoy and get on with it xD ^^;;;;``
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Anyone here who read Neon Sign Amber by Ogeretsu Tanaka at some point? 🙃 It's still one of my favourite BL mangas to this day!
I really love how some of her characters are actually canonically ticklish 💖
This here is inspired by *the moment* from the extra chapter 😳🙈
(For some reason I was motivated for more detailed colours this time)
566 notes - Posted September 7, 2022
#4
I just couldn't leave the other Yuri without tickles >w<
How did it come to this? You're free to speculate :P
And yes. I am slowly trying to bring this blog back to life, but I have no plans whatsoever xD So I will just go with the flow ^o^;
618 notes - Posted September 2, 2022
#3
I had quite a few different asks for Sk8 in my inbox, so I tried to combine more characters into this one 🤭✨
Don't ask me, but whenever I see a bratty squirt like Miya, my brain keeps yelling one single thing: Wreck that little shit!!! 😆🔥😈
703 notes - Posted September 27, 2022
#2
I had a bit of extra time today and a decent idea 🤭✨
So there we go!!
I hope this is what you wanted anon ^^
(Colo is a bit simpler again because otherwise it takes forever! 😅😬)
762 notes - Posted September 13, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
"Oh, you're sorry?
Maybe I should do this every time you mock my cooking 🤔🙃"
.
Argh fuck it 😂🙈
I originally wanted to write a fic for this as well but I somewhat lost control over my life in October 😬😆
srsly.. there was just so much going on that I barely had time for anything, soooooo for now here's the art post at least 🙄🤣🙈
Yeah. I hope you enjoy it anyway 🙃🙃🙃
817 notes - Posted November 3, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#lolololo I didn't know this is a thing XD#But funny to see :3#ALSO WHATS WITH THE 800+ NOTES? ARE YOU INSANE? XDDD O___O#Anyway thank you all so much for an absolutely fucking amazing year!!!!!! (well quarter year to be exact XD) Much love from this muffin!!!
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tagging @stocious because she said she may have some thoughts on this
why i’m not a fan of sandy milkovich in 11x07/11x08
so, as we all know, i love debbie gallagher. i’m that one bitch you see on tumblr, screaming about my love for her or screaming at silly people who criticize her. that’s me. so naturally, sandy milkovich was a character that interested me because she was debbie’s longest lasting actual partner, and sebbie (sandy x debbie) was adorable.
i should have known it was too good to be true. debbie always has bad luck, especially when it comes to her being abandoned or being unloved.
in 11x07, royal, sandy’s ex-husband, dropped off her kid, prince, for the day. sandy didn’t tell debbie she had a kid. a kid who she abandoned.
and let’s say the circumstances were different, lets say she had to leave for her own safety or something, that would make me a bit more sympathetic (but still wonder why she left her fucking kid), however when prince see’s her and says “hi, mom” or whatever he said she just storms off and says “don’t call me that”.
this sets off alarm bells in debbie’s head. debbie’s mother took off and left her and her siblings with her father multiple times. by everyone in her life, she’s been used, then left, then used, then left. she’s so scared- and she now realizes sandy will probably leave her too and she freaks.
prince is well-adjusted, you wouldn’t be able to tell he’s a descendent of the milkovich family. he is the opposite of debbie. he is mature about being abandoned and doesn’t like his mother, but respects her choice. debbie’s an adult, she’s much older than this kid, yet it’s still tearing her up inside. even when she was a kid acting as an adult, it tore her up inside. that was her weak spot.
sandy knew that was her weak spot. they had known each other for what, eight months? even if they didn’t call it dating, they were, because sandy knew just the thing to use to hurt debbie.
so when debbie confronts her, things go to shit. debbie starts ranting about child abandonment, and slips up and says “you ran out on people who needed you because you wanted to do your own shit! i’ll never forgive you for that!” as if debbie was the child that sandy abandoned. as if debbie was six or seven again, being left for the first time all over again.
sandy catches on and seizes the opportunity to hurt her with it.
“holy shit. you think i’m monica.”
“what?”
“i am not your mom, debbie. i didn’t just leave my family to do my own shit!”
“this has nothing to do with my mom! fuck you!”
“you are piling all of your abandonment issues on me, right? because what happened? monica ran out on you, and now the rest of ‘em wanna run out on you too.”
“they don’t want to run out on me they want to sell the house and get the money…”
“you sure?”
sandy at this point has backed debbie into a corner and destroyed her. at the beginning, she’s confident, but then sandy just tears the layers of confidence down, breaks down the walls debbie set as a child, and now all that is left is just a scared, hurt, lonely child in an adult’s body. aka, season 1 debbie.
she doesn’t even have to say any more because she know that she hurt her. debbie looks frightened and vulnerable and sandy’s fucking smiling. then, sandy gets up, takes her shit, and leaves debbie, sitting in franny’s bed, dumbstruck.
this sends debbie into a spiral.
then the infamous scene where she does coke and sleeps with a gay guy happens, and it all reminds me of mickey in 5x11 (?).
then she gets a call from franny’s school and realizes she forgot to get her and she panics. she almost forgot about her kid.
then, she and franny meet on the steps at the gallagher house, and debbie delivers a monologue and it made my debbie-defender heart so excited.
but first, i have to say that sandy literally compares debbie leaving franny for 12 hours to sandy leaving prince for years. she also literally shows up just to call debbie a bitch as if debbie was the one in the wrong. then she says she’s open to talking it out, and debbie isn’t- good for debbie because she needs to learn to set boundaries. a+
“i blew off some steam for less than a day! and it sucked, and now i’m back, with my kid! can you say the same about you and prince? … oh my god i’ve heard all of your excuses sandy, and they sound great coming out of your mouth! but at the end of the day, you walked out on somebody that needed you. i’ve got my entire family trying to leave me, i don’t need to be worried about you too.”
and WOW. fucking wow. amazing, debbie. that was fucking amazing.
people who (gallavich fans who love franny and hate debbie) think that debbie would ditch franny and go to texas without her are wild. this is what i mean by people don’t watch her scenes and only pay attention when she says something that they don’t like. her whole storyline, in all eleven seasons, is about a girl with abandonment issues who wants nothing more but to nurture and care for people so that they stay. whether it’s her parents, or her siblings, or her child, or her partners, she loves people so hard to try to make them love her and stay, but they never do. and that’s fucking heartbreaking. she’s spent her entire life trying to fill the lonely void inside of her, and she always fails.
sandy’s absence sucked, and it really added nothing to the plot, but it did help debbie grow. despite this, i really wish that they didn’t break up.
and just to add one more thing to debbie’s monologue, i love it because it shows her entire storyline even if it’s not that long. we go from season 1, where she cries at aunt ginger leaving, steals a kid, and screams at fiona for living with jimmy, to seasons 4-6 where she wants love so badly, but knows not how to get it, so she sexualizes herself and has a kid, then to season 11 debbie, who tries to heal the wounds she’s had her entire life. who knows, maybe she will.
anyways in conclusion gallagher’s and milkoviches need to get over their hatred of therapy because they ALL need it badly.
#shameless#shameless us#debbie gallagher#sandy milkovich#sebbie#gallavich#meta#shameless meta#11x07#11x08#franny gallagher#frank gallagher#fiona gallagher#monica gallagher#abandonment issues#sandy x debbie#debbie x sandy#right person wrong time i fear#i may biased because i relate to debbie especially in the abandonment/attachment issues way lol#but still 11x07 had me fucked up
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20 questions for fic writers - tagged by the fantastic @frosty-the-killer-doll ☃️🔪🪆
How many works do you have on ao3?
13.
What's your total ao3 word count?
72,472
What fandoms do you write for?
The Flash, Glee, and Gossip Girl.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Flying Free (or Free Kurt - Emma Pillsbury Style) ((Glee obvs))
Heartless (Glee)
Smoke and Mirrors (Glee)
Maybe Our Real Soulmates Were The... (Flash/Arrow)
As Frightened As You (Glee)
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
It depends. Direct compliments, yes, I'll reply to say thank you. I'll also answer questions, or drop little bits of behind-the-scenes info if there's something fun attached to a detail that a reader pointed out. If the comment is simply "wow!!" or "oof" or something else that doesn't really call for a response and that I don't have anything to add to, I'll just leave it as it is.
What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Toss up between two:
Heartless ends with Kurt getting hit with another wave of grief after having Finn's letterman returned to him, and while he's hugging it and sobbing, for a second it feels like Finn's hugging him back.
The Longest Distance Between Two Points Is Arm's Length ends with Cisco accidentally vibing a moment from earlier in the fic, and misunderstanding what's happening in it. If he'd had context, he would've realized he was seeing proof that his mom loves him, but instead he takes it as a painful reminder that he'll never be enough for her because he's not Dante.
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Probably Alive Again. Just two dorks playing in the rain, on the brink of falling in love.
Do you get hate on fics?
None so far.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Absolutely not.
Do you write crossovers?
Not usually, but I have a few. Maybe Our Real Soulmates Were The... is considered a crossover fic by AO3 and FFN's standards, but not by mine. My most ambitious crossover (and the one I'm most invested in) is Preppy In Pink, which is gonna be so much fun when it's ready for posting.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I certainly hope not. Doesn't look too likely, though.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Pretty sure I haven't had that happen, either. It'd be cool though.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Smoke and Mirrors started as a few lines of dialogue that @kurtbastian-land had sitting in her notes app that she didn't have a full story developed for, and posted on Tumblr for anyone who wanted to expand on it. I wrote a very dramatic continuation (the majority of chapter 1), and then @jwmelmoth gave it a happy ending (chapter 2). But then she realized we left a couple loose ends untied, so the two of us collaborated on how it should end, and wrote a few more chapters together.
What’s your all-time favorite ship to write for?
I honestly don't know. I think I have the most WIPs for Kamisco at the moment, but Barrisco and Kurtbastian are both incredibly fun as well.
What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I started a crossover AU ages ago where Kurt Hummel ends up with Eric van der Woodsen. I don't think I'll ever finish it, but I like to reread the snippets I've already written every now and then.
What are your writing strengths?
Viscerally describing emotions, setting a scene, nailing characters' voices.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Titles, titles, titles, and titles. Oh, and also titles. They HARD!! Also, I'm very bad at following my own advice to write badly and edit later. I want everything to sound pretty immediately! This is how I get stuck on the same paragraph for weeks with a whole big chunk of the fic still unwritten.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Not something I'm going to attempt a whole lot of in the near future. I have already slipped a little bit of Spanish (+1 word of French) into a couple fics, but only like a single word/phrase at a time, spoken by bilingual characters in mostly English sentences. There are also a few spots where a character says more in Spanish, but I don't write the actual dialogue, I just imply a general idea of what they're saying. I'd love to include more, but I'm not about to make a fool of myself with Google Translate—I'm sticking to very minimal Spanish until I can speak it better.
First fandom you wrote for?
First fandom I finished a fic for was Gossip Girl. As for first one I started writing a fic for, it was either Gossip Girl (not the same fic) or Boy Meets World (a still unfinished Shawngela fix-it).
Favorite fic you’ve written?
I mean, A Little Help From Your Friends is pretty hard to beat. It's got everything—humor, angst, fluff, ambiguity, movie references, ROOMMATES!! And funnily enough, I gave it a title with a little help from my friend, @daftydraw (and by "a little" I mean she suggested the whole title and I ran with it).
And tagging: @starstruckpurpledragon @fictionandmusic @orangesunsets12 @thequeenofshebasays @queer-cheer @elledelajoie
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Posting 2 shiptobers bc I left off at day 12, skipping 11 I think it was or 10 for now, bc 4 characters are BIT much for a single day until crap hit the fan w/ lacking time to draw due to my IRL job adfskjfodslg,,
Day 6 - Baking and / or cooking (Anisa & Mark ft. THE ULTIMATE BBY, Marco)
Day 7 - Giving / Receiving kisses (Chiri and my own design of Jackson Jekyll from Monster High, that is a combination of my own stuff, inspiration from fan-re-designs and also Hollowed-Hartlocke's redesign more heavily!)
I FORGOT TO MENTION ON THE PRIOR POST, THAT THE SHIPTOBER LIST I'M USING IS ALSO FROM MY FRIEND, HOLLOWED-HARTLOCKE ON DEVIANTART!!! Go check it out, in casee you wanna do it next year or somth, god knows I won't finish mine like I know myself jkgjksdg
I'M NOT GONNA SAY MUCH AS I'M DRAWING AS WE SPEAK WHILST I POST THIS AND EQUALLY TRYING TO POST TO INSTA RN LMAO. Tags take the longest and I damn tags for existing to hell for it sdflksdglkds. CATCHING UP IS VERY VERY DIFFICULT.
BUT I WANNA SAY I'VE NEVER REGRETTED DRAWING CHIBIS TO CATCH UP EASIER AND FASTER. SO I MIGHT JUST DO A CHIB-POCALYPSE TO CATCH UP UNTIL DAY 15. I set my goal to possibly catch up to day 15 but let it be after that or else Ill start to stress myself which is a BAD idea sdfklsdlkg
LET'S HOPE I WILL CATCH UP THO. I AM INBETWEEN THAT PUTTING TOO MUCH EFFORT INTO INKDRIANTOBER. The moment I got nothing to post for, I'm getting out the inkdriantober posts sdfklsdlg
I'LL LEAVE YOU WITH SHARING A POSITIVE THING; I actually heavily adore my Jackson redesign, even if y'all are only seeing it in chib-form sdflksklgds, I COULD post my monster high doodle refs after this, bc it'd be neat to attract some monster high lovers, I can just discuss w/ on who's the best ghoul out there, no matter the gen LMAO. Maybe some posts of my Jackson doll that arrived a good while ago might also help attract an audience I'd love to talk and banter with, and draw for even, if some day I'll be recognized enough, to do those fun Tumblr asks, I wanted to do since I'm a teenager!!! IT'D BE A DREAM TO DO TUMBLR ASKS ABOUT CANON CHARACTERS OR OCS. I love Tumblr asks so much, the best fandom stuff spawns out of them, ngl...
Btw my Jackson redesign is based on G1..But that might be obvious to- already Monster High fans LOL, but to those who don't know, MH is split into 3 gens, and gen 3 has no Jackson yet. Some people say, that Komos IS Jackson but Iiii doubt that sdfklsdlgk, ANYWAY I GOTTA HURRY AND GET BACK TO ART SORRY FOR RAMBLING I HAVE TOO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT.
#digital art#my art#art#artwork#original art#artists on tumblr#character art#semi realistic#background#sonic fan character#monster high#monster high oc#monster high jackson#jackson jekyll#sonic the hedgehog#sonic art#sonic fandom#monster high fandom#monster high g1#shiptober#october challenge#drawing challenge#art prompts#october prompts#art challenge#shiptober2023
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I posted 6,911 times in 2022
That's 6,911 more posts than 2021!
2,162 posts created (31%)
4,749 posts reblogged (69%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@bloo-the-dragon
@feralmoonlight
@naffeclipse
@icedmetaltea
@driftingmoonmenace
I tagged 6,821 of my posts in 2022
Only 1% of my posts had no tags
#moon - 2,085 posts
#sun - 2,001 posts
#moon x reader - 923 posts
#sun x reader - 894 posts
#sleuth jesters - 804 posts
#its queue - 696 posts
#cryptid sightings - 471 posts
#eclipse - 430 posts
#compliments that make me cry (out of joy) - 308 posts
#moots - 259 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#i just go mad for a little while and then spit it out on the google doc ;-; it fills up the brain but i tell myself the surprise is worth it
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Chapter 5: The Episode That Shares A Face Part 1
FNAF Cryptid!Sun/Moon x Cryptid Hunter!Y/N (SFW)
Something’s watching you. Your internal warning system fires off, whispering of something unnatural.
You shift, gazing back out the window, then freeze.
In between the trees stands a man, young, early twenties, perhaps even a late teenager. He stares dead ahead at you through the glass, as if there were no barrier at all. Leaves fall on his clothes, sticking to his hair. He doesn’t blink. You stare back. His eyes are dull, almost dead in quality.
That’s not human, whatever it is.
Word Count: ~9,900
Warnings: Mentions of death and night terrors.
A/N: I had to do a few heavy rewrites on this one, and I'm not entirely happy with it all but it's as good as it's gonna get at this point. Once again, I'm cutting up this 'episode' to make it more digestible, both for me as a writer and for you the reader! There are some self pretty fun scenes here with the boys that I had a lot of fun writing as well.
You and your animatronic friend are on break from cryptid hunting and happen to meet some children, then you have an interesting sighting yourself, with some disagreements about relaxation time, kids are rule breakers, and Moon makes a mistake. It looks like that break isn't going to last very long.
604 notes - Posted November 8, 2022
#4
Some time with Cryptid!Sun :D
Please note this may be edited/changed when the fic is posted
702 notes - Posted October 7, 2022
#3
Look what I found! y'all know who's wearing this to bed
966 notes - Posted October 13, 2022
#2
y'all I'm not ready sobs
1,150 notes - Posted August 14, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Thinking about an AU where Y/N is a cryptid hunter and finds what they believe is just an animatronic helper (abandon, creepy jester meant for kids, but hey, they're into weird stuff so this is awesome!) but little do they know is that a very supernatural and ambiguous, demonic creature is inhabiting the endoskeleton with two forms for the day and night, and well, the day creature is very taken with the cryptid hunter but the night demon is less than thrilled about following around a weak human. Cryptid hunter is unaware of the situation and believes the animatronic to be highly advanced, and not at all capable of scaring away ghouls and goblins with a look alone as he always stays behind their back, protective, and much more terrifying than anything they've ever hunted.
1,773 notes - Posted September 4, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#pffft nice#also me reblogging from myself a lot lol#that school post is hilarious because i ended up not going this semester#naff nuh huh
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TOA Anniversary Munday
Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.
Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!
Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.
Tagging: myself
Name: rai
Pronouns: he/him
Birthday (no year): december 28th
Where are you from? What is your time zone?: colorado! mountain time zone
Roleplay experience: ooooohh my god um. like 15 years maybe?? most recently on twt. i used to rp on tumblr back in high school though and i'm SO glad to be back cause i missed it. rping on twt is awful i need to be able to write three thousand words in one post
Got any pets?: my kitty selkie :)
Favorite time of year: autumn.. i love pretty leaves and comfortable weather and halloween and pumpkin flavored things god bless
Some interests and things you like: drawing, audio drama podcasts, birds, sugar, cosplaying, horror
Some funfacts & trivia about you:
i collect plushies
i have 14 tattoos and my next one is gonna be grima
i write original stories and someday i'm gonna make a webcomic
What non-Fire Emblem games do you play?: pokemon, animal crossing, other miscellaneas things
Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: type is flying & pokemon is absol. my absolute belovedoh my god that was not supposed to be a pun
How did you get into Fire Emblem?: my childhood friend was really into radiant dawn and told me all about it and then i mentioned it to my dad and he was like "oh yeah fire emebeleme i wanted to try out one of those games" so he bought radiant dawn bc it was the one i talked about and. we did not know it was a sequel for the longest time.
What Fire Emblem games have you played?: 7, 9 & 10, 11 & 12, 13, 14, 16, 17
First Fire Emblem game: radiant dawn
Favorite Fire Emblem game: awakening
Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳: g.. gregorgy. also sephiran and naesala. and rafal why is gregory the only human here
If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays?
- Awakening: tharja. now i would gaius if i wasn't so attached to him being inigo's father always
- Fates: silas. now uhhh mmmm?? m. i don't know WAIT. keaton
- Three Houses: i don't remember?????? what the fuck. um. oh nevermind it was claude lmao of course it was claude. and i would do it again
- Engage: no one i uh. seem to have completely missed the chance somehow. anyway i'm going for alfred this time cause alfred/alear is everythign to me
Favorite Fire Emblem class: KINSHI KNIGHT but basically just archers in general. and DANCERS i love them
If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class?: um.. idk but i'd like to think i'd be the donnel archetype cause aptitude is my only chance
If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation?: golden deer!!
If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with?: either micaiah bc i like her or um. yeah. i would go with claude also but not when the Other Two are in there can you imagine the bickering
How did you find TOA?: a couple of my mutuals on twt are here!! waves at them
Current TOA muses: yeehaw
Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again?: not toa but my first fire emblem muse ever was volug. yeah i could write him again
Have you had any other TOA muses?: not yet but stay tuned
Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards?: yeah lmao. i've got a couple archetypes that hit me like a train every time
What do you believe you enjoy writing the most?: characters with weird ass emotions
Favorite TOA-related memory: i haven't even been here a month yet but this event is really fun
How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔: just the letters lol
Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day that you’d like to share? 😉: back when i was on twtrp i kinda wanted to pick up ashe but then. i didn't. because ferp on twt is a nightmare and ashe was a popular character (i was cyril. safe in my little bubble)
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤
love love love getting Tumblr messages, especially if they come from Rena! thank you so much for thinking to tag me and get me back on this ye olde blog. I will do my best to answer since most of my favorites are unfinished and waiting for me to have time to complete them asdfgh anyway, starting from the bottom:
5. Unfinished, unposted work: Worth the Wait
This one is fun because it's something I'm currently working on and I am soo obsessed with it; it's an AU of a fantasy game that I've put way too many hours into recently. I think that the overall premise of the story is something akin to finding things in places that you wouldn't expect them to be, which I always love when it comes to Gintoki and Hijikata, because that's kind of like, their thing? It's set right now to be three or four chapters long and ahh I can't wait for it to be done. I hope, like usual, that the AU doesn't shy people away because they might not know about it/played the game. :') I can't help I only like writing AUs I'm sorry adsfgh
4. Fahrenheit
This story has such humble beginnings and such a warm place in my heart. It was actually the first ginhiji fic I ever wrote and oh god, it was fucking horrible. Rewrote it when I matured more as a writer and am hoping that I figure out where exactly I want this one to end because it's a bit of a toss-up. Right now, I am simply enjoying writing all the modern-day fluff and antics (and sex) until the plot decides to cement itself properly in my brain.
3. Hirudinea
The big one, the one that my brain refuses to write even though I have the plot all there waiting for me to write it. The powerpoint for this story is crazy. I'm looking forward to one day getting to tie this one up with a nice little bow and give it the proper love it deserves, but I want to finish other things first. Forcing myself to write things only ever ends in me hating them and I refuse for that to be the case with this story because there is so much love for it in me and seemingly in the community <3
2. Ninety-Nine and The Flight, the Fall, and the Forsaking of a Crow
There are two for this spot because I can't make up my mind. The Flight is another one with very humble beginnings. I wrote this, god, six or so years ago originally? Rewrote it when I started posting my work and fell in love with the new rendition of it so much. I'm such a sucker for transformations and gaining new understandings of the world, which is exactly what Gintoki gets to go through, which is why it means so much to me. The pacing is there, the emotion is there. Truly one of my favorites of mine that remind myself that I can write sometimes, LOL.
Ninety-nine I love because it is so easy to write. It's the child that never backtalks, never gets in trouble-- it's just golden. The plot for this is fleshed out all the way to the end and the powerpoint is thirty slides longer than Hirudinea's at a whopping 91 slides. It's a beast. I have end chapters completely written, just waiting for the rest of it to catch up. While definitely not my most popular piece, it's the one that I love to work on the most and I hope I can give it the ending that it deserves :') ahhh there's so much I want to say but can't so I'll just leave it here and talk about it later when it gets closer to being complete.
Things That Happen During the In-Between
Certainly did not expect this work to get the recognition that it did when it was posted. When I tell y'all that I hated this story for the longest time because I reread the same scenes fifteen, twenty times over, edited each one at least three or four times super in-depth to the point where it became beyond predictable in my mind. So then I post this, and people are all like "I cried!" I'm like HUH what do you mean you cried? this work sucks?? So then I waited like a month, reread it, and understood that yeah, okay, I actually didn't do that bad of a job with this one. My personal favorite aspect of this story is the characterization, because there are so many parts where I can read through it and say with confidence that that's a very "them" thing to say/do. (I also just love and adore the second movie, it's such a good film and I'm glad that I was able to do it some justice with this story.)
this was such a treat to do, once more thank you @renamusing for tagging me <3 I'll send a few out to some authors who I think are active on my tumblr so if you get one then consider it a little forehead kiss mwha
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how do u grow ur tumblr acc is it like twitter
Genuinely I have no idea. Most popular blogs I see either are creators of some kind, so artists or writers or people who just write interesting posts about what they think or stuff they like, "tumblr funnymen" who post a lot of memes and jokes, and educational blogs.
Though tbh, having a lot of followers doesn't really like...do anything for you here? Like that's kinda just not the point. No one can see your follow count anyway so it doesn't get you clout, and being too popular kinda just leads to a lot of anon hate and drama, plus follower count doesn't guarantee engagement anyway. Tumblr values quality over quantity in terms of followers and mutuals, so it's less about getting more followers and more about making good connections with people who share your interests.
And in my experience, the best way to go about "growing" your blog is to engage with people!
(Well, first what you REALLY need to do is change your pfp, header, and blog description so people don't think you're a bot. I'd say pick something relevant to what you're gonna be posting about, like your art if you're an artist, or screenshots from movies or anime you like, and just drop something about yourself/what you're interested in in your description!)
But yeah, engagement is best! Follow people who post art or fics or original content that you like and reblog their posts, and don't be afraid to add kind comments in the tags or replies, that kind of thing really stands out to creators(most of us joke about recognizing urls of people who come back time and time again to like our stuff, and leaving comments/replies makes you stand out even more and might get someone to follow you back). Send asks too, a lot of my longest mutuals I've made bcs we shared a fandom and started talking through asks :D
Aside from that, really just posting is your best bet. Reblogs are good, some people follow other people just bcs they reblog good stuff, but also post original stuff too! Even if it's just you screaming about how much you like an album or a picture of your cat, posting stuff and tagging it(as there's no real algorithm) is how people will find you and tbh I've seen plenty of blogs get big just bcs people like to hear what they have to say about random things or want to see more pictures of their cats.
(You can also use tumblr blaze to advertise yourself if you want to, I've seen people use it to share a post with some of their art like "hey I draw this stuff follow if you like it" or something like that, it's an option, though it does cost money so there's that.)
So yeah, engage with others, reblog posts, and make your own posts! That's all there really is to it. Tumblr is really more about making connections and having fun and less about "being popular", so don't worry too much about it if you don't get tons of followers right away or ever. Just post what you want, talk to people, and have a good time :D
#sorry if this isn't super helpful#tumblr just has like#different priorities#we're just here to have a good time and make friends really#it's not about being popular
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Fic writer interview!
Thanks @mercurygray for the tag!
How many works do you have on AO3?
120 for my 2 pseuds, sunlightdances and glowinghorizons!
What’s your total AO3 word count?
520,569
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
take a running start (the 100)
keep me safe inside (your arms like towers) (the 100)
one less day to be alone (the 100)
give you everything i have (the 100)
they will see my strength (in this love i found) (the 100)
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to! I usually get to them all, even if I don't respond the same day. I really appreciate anyone who comments on my works, even old stuff for fandoms I don't write for anymore (see above fics and kudos lol) and want to say thanks.
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
This is a hard question! I've always tried to be a happy ending writer, but I think some of my newer fics for HBO War stuff is probably more angsty because of the subject matter. I'm just now feeling confident in leaving a chapter or a fic itself ended on a angsty note.
What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
Pretty much everything I write is fix-it fic, so usually they all have happy endings, but I'm partial to this fic for Marvel (Modern!Bucky x Reader) - Safe Place to Land on AO3 or Tumblr.
Do you write crossovers?
I've only done a few, but I have a WIP on hiatus that I started ages ago that's a Supernatural/BoB time travel fic featuring one of my OCs! It's here: Lost in Time
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Yes and it still haunts me lol. I got the longest comment of my writing life (like, several paragraph essay) on one of my modern AUs for The 100 about how I should give up writing and it went into extreme detail with quotes and everything critiquing me. Honestly, it really threw me for a loop because it wasn't a constructive criticism, it was mean, and I stopped writing for a long time because of it.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
If I feel it has a place - I'm more likely to write a smut-adjacent, probably-still-rated-M heavy petting scene with lots of angst and tension. That's what I like to read if I read smut, too.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not an entire fic, but a writer in another fandom wrote something SO similar to one of my Marvel stories and there was a paragraph that was copy/pasted. I confronted them and they deleted it, and their blog shortly after. It sucked lol.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I know of!
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I haven't! I'd love to try it one day but I'm also such a procrastinator I fear I'd mess up any working relationship, haha.
What’s your all-time favorite ship?
Based on what I've written, I still have a soft spot for Clarke and Bellamy from The 100, even though I won't ever write for that fandom again. Their dynamic was so great to write about. Back in my Fanfiction.net days I loved writing for Olivia and Lincoln from Fringe, too.
What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
I have a Dean Winchester/OC fic where she's a national park ranger and gets roped into shenanigans that I love, but I don't see myself going back to it unfortunately.
What are your writing strengths?
I hope that I'm able to really set a scene and use dialogue and sense words to really put readers in the head of a particular character. I really want people to finish reading a piece and have a feeling.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Sometimes I think I use too much dialogue and I tell rather than show.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I would love it, but I don't speak another language confidently enough to use it the right way, and I just don't trust Google Translate to make it smooth enough, haha.
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
I think I wrote RPF for the band McFly when I was 13 but I don't think any of that still exists, thank god. My first published fic was something for AltLivia/AltLincoln (Fringe) on ff.net in 2011.
What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?
I'm in a Discord server for the Nancy Drew CW show and I'd love to write for Nancy/Ace, but I'd need to rewatch the show to do it confidently, I was just a casual watcher with friends when it was on TV.
What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?
My favorite thing is my current WIP Barren Soul (Band of Brothers). I've been working on it on and off since 2020 and I think it has some of my best writing. It's also fun to re-read because I can see how I've grown as a writer over the years.
Tagging anyone else who wants to fill this out - no pressure!
#this was fun to do#i had no idea ao3 had stats#i have to say - my top kudos fics all being for t100 is cursed#i will never get away from that show or that ship lmao#fic writer interview
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I was tagged by Jams @not-nervous-jester to share my writing process so here you go, I'm sorry but this will get a bit long and it'll not be proofread cause life's too short (and my laptop has 4% battery left) 🙃
Do you write in order?
Yes and No. I start off any writing project (whether it be fanfic or work) with a detailed outline of the major plot points. I do the endings first more often than not when I'm planning a fic, then the middle, and finally, once those are out of the way, then I'll tackle the beginning kinda.
Because I write like a person possessed, the beginnings sort of just happen on their own but I need a guideline for hitting the major points or it will be all out of whack.
How fully formed does your writing come out the first try?
About 100%. Because I am so incredibly stupid and anal about this stuff, my first try is essentially a weighty tome of garbage. You can only throw out the garbage once I'm done, you can't add more to it. I guess this analogy doesn't work but it works in terms of the ✨ vibe ✨ I'm trying to create, stay with me people!
How many drafts do you go through?
Just one actually. If there is stuff in the first draft that I am not okay with, I will stop writing and simply leave it for a week or a month until I feel like picking it up again later 😐 The only time I actually create a new draft is when parts of the original are unreadable. Actually I'm lying, I just add stuff to the first draft while whistling and being inconspicuous.
Tell me about your process.
First comes the playlist. It HAS to start with a playlist. Every project has a separate playlist. Songs can be repeated, playlists cannot be the same though. It's a thing, and if I don't do it, it'll be a whole separate thing tbh.
The playlist has to be instrumental, it has to be mainly cellos and violins for the meatier scenes, piano is okay for the fluffy non-plot filler bits that I'm writing for my own entertainment. There can be no words or bits of the fic will turn into a Metallica song, I'll be sued, I'll lose everything and most importantly, the fic would never be finished.
Next comes the poetry, stuff that is actually inspiring the work and pushing it forward. That usually goes in tumblr drafts so it's easier for me to access from my phone. This is usually screenshots from e-books or actual pictures from physical books.
Because I do a fairly detailed outline beforehand, I usually start writing the beginning because that's what I haven't planned out yet and am most excited by. This takes me the longest amount of time and I also do a LOT of rewriting at this stage because personally, as a reader, I do abandon a lot of fics if the beginning isn't doing it for me.
I use google sheets cause I'll sometimes reread my stuff over the phone but I only ever write on the laptop, my phone is mainly for rereading and obsessing.
I also edit as I go along based on feel and make notes where I need to add stuff. If I edit later once I'm done, it usually doesn't come out like I want it to.
Once chapters are done, I copy paste them into Google Translate so I can hear them being read back to me. I catch a record number of missed typos and errors this way. I'm very conscious of the way I write dialogues because I'm so nitpicky when I'm reading other people's dialogues and this also allows me to correct issues with those (the "he would never fucking say it like that" errors)
After the first couple chapters, I'll share the google doc with mutuals and friends (mostly Ara @stedebonnets ) and I don't have a beta reader. Plot points I'll discuss with Josh and Joy 😭 and I don't publish fics on ao3 until the entire thing is written cause I'm a big stinking fic abandoner lmao (smauglock fic from 5 years ago rip 🪦 sorry readers)
This is the writing process that went into Need for Stede ✌️which was incredibly fun to write!
I'd like to tag @wearfinethingsalltoowell @abigailpents @talkstoself @red-sky-in-mourning @ratchet @stedebonnit and anyone else who wants to do this!
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I posted 2,206 times in 2022
That's 372 more posts than 2021!
1,047 posts created (47%)
1,159 posts reblogged (53%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@threewolfboon
@barbwritesstuff
@thebibliosphere
@weirdwerewolf-deactivated
@unpretty
I tagged 136 of my posts in 2022
#fanart - 10 posts
#which celebs give you paranormal vibes? - 8 posts
#not werewolves - 7 posts
#oc - 6 posts
#werewolves - 6 posts
#for the sergi fanclub - 6 posts
#youtube - 6 posts
#submission - 5 posts
#writing - 5 posts
#werewolf - 5 posts
Longest Tag: 111 characters
#i had to make some aggressive editoral changes to my first book both before and after signing with my publisher
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
I made a fake Classic Penguin Books cover for Blood Moon. No one liked it over on twitter, so now I'm giving it to you, a much more deserving audience.
I am an artist.
270 notes - Posted July 8, 2022
#4
414 notes - Posted March 26, 2022
#3
A Sad but Happy but Sad Update
Hello everyone. I hope you’re all having a wonderful evening and that the full moon is shining as brightly and beautifully where you are as it is here.
This full moon is a bitter sweet one for me. After close to two years of development, Blood Moon is finished. It is time to submit it to Hosted Games. That, unfortunately, means it’s also time to take down the public demo. I have removed the game from Dashingdon and will send the files to Hosted Games, hopefully soon (there are still a few pieces of art I’m waiting for, but I don't think that will take too long).
I wish I had more to say but I’m a little lost for words right now… I suppose I’ll just say what I always say, which is thank you. This community has been absolutely incredible and I couldn’t be more grateful for all the help and support I’ve received over the last couple of years. Without this community, Blood Moon would not be the game it is today.
Thank you for playing. I hope you’ve enjoyed your time running with wolves. I couldn’t have asked for a better pack of players.
🐺💙
In the meantime, I hope you guys will stick around. You can find me in all the usual places.
My email is BarbaraTrueloveWrites[at]gmail[dot]com.
My Twitter is @barbwritesstuff
If you like, you can support me either by leaving a tip on KoFi page or by buying my book, Crying Wolf by Barbara Truelove.
Next full moon I'd like to do a little cover reveal for Blood Moon's cover art. I hope to see you guys around for that. I'd also like to share some other writing projects I'm working on, if anyone is interested in that.
Oh and... eh... the final word count for Blood Moon is 442,290 (excluding commands). If you're wondering where those extra words come from... it's because I caved to all the anon messages and gave Sergi a sex scene. You just can't read it yet. Sorry about that.
453 notes - Posted September 10, 2022
#2
Okay... so I've been thinking... werewolf slang.
What are some words or phrases that you think werewolves would use? Here's some ideas I've had:
"Stray" - a werewolf without a pack. Eg, 'There is a stray wandering around the edge of our territory'.
"Moon mad" - a werewolf who goes totally berserk under the light of the full moon. Eg, 'Some of us just can't control anymore, especially in old age. My old man went moon mad near the end.'
"Showing fur" - to transform either fully or partially into wolf form. Eg, 'Frank had to leave quick. He got angry and started showing fur.'
"Pup" - a minor insult typically coming from an older werewolf and directed at a younger one. Eg, 'Back up a step, pup. You're out of line'.
"Cub" - a werewolf child. Similar to the human word 'kid'. Eg, "Who's going to pick the cubs up from school?"
Feel free to add your own! I want this post to turn into a werewolf urban dictionary.
See the full post
894 notes - Posted February 8, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
9,304 notes - Posted April 22, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#Tumblr roasting me for not knowing how to tag#The shame of 2 of my top 5s being reposts#I'm so sorry
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