#in a way that makes clear it's true and not just words
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my heart over yours; part four | j.fleming x reader
prompt: you try to push jessie away while trying to figure out how you feel, but jessie is not going for that.
author notes: this is basically just angst until the literal last minute and all i can say is blame that chelsea loss against liverpool. i swear the cliffhanger will make all the angst worth it 🙏🏾 thanks for all the love on part three 💕 even tho i hated that part. anyways enjoy it guys! p.s. this is the last part before the final
contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, jealous!jessie at the last minute, a fuck ton of angst / small comfort, the actual shortest part, some protective!jessie if you squint
masterlist with all the previous parts
playing are we still friends? by tyler the creator 🎵
"i don't have to answer anything! who do you think you are?" you shout at her, fighting away all the thoughts that rush to your mind after her question. it's making you actually sit back and think about the role jessie plays in your life, but just because it's making you feel a certain type of way, doesn't mean you were going to give sasha an answer. at this point she doesn't deserve that because who is she really to question you?
you say one more thing before turning to leave, "you aren't my girlfriend. stop acting like it. we went on a date or two and now you want to act all possessive? get a fucking grip." then you leave out of her dorm. not even allowing her to get a word in. you already know someone is going to talk about this and it will spread in some circle of the campus, but you don't really care. you're sure that anyone who's friends with sasha aren't friends with you, so it doesn't matter.
when you find your way out of sasha's dorm building, you don't rush to your dorm immediately. it's around six and you already know jessie will be there. she always is and soccer players didn't have practice today, so you already knew she was probably in your bed, lazing around, watching some animal documentary; most likely an lion one. she's been really interested in those lately. anyways, regardless, you couldn't go back to your dorm. your feelings are pounding in your head like an headache and usually talking to jessie would help you to clear all that out, but this time around you just feel like you can't.
sasha may be right; you may be in love with your bestfriend and you don't know how to handle that. there have been many times over the course of jessie and yours friendship that someone questioned it to be something more. every single time you just denied and went about your day. you were used to it, so there's no need to have a big reaction. you never thought about it deeper. people would say that in elementary and secondary school, nobody knows anything during those years anyways so you didn't care but now you're in college, it's different, so if sasha thinks that then could it be true?
instead of going back to your dorm, you decide to go get something sweet. you shuffle yourself onto the bus and let it take you along the route until it reaches that street you knew had at least one bakery. getting off of the bus, you walk straight into the bakery. you order quickly, getting your favorite desserts, and leaving out of the place as quickly as you arrived once you received your order. it felt like too much to be in there at the moment. jessie and you always somehow convinced one pair of your parents to let you two get cake at random times for "celebrating." usually this celebrating wasn't even for nothing extraordinary. if jessie got an a good grade on a test? you would beg your mom to let you and her to go get some cake. you didn't trip over your feet today? looks like jessie is going to go ask her parents to take you and her to go get some cookies. sharing sweets have been one way of bonding for you two. it was sweet, literally and figuratively.
you make your way to the nearby park, sitting on the first bench you find. trying to find peace and quiet in la is hard, so this is the best you can do but it works. you sit there on that bench and try to think about jessie and yours friendship. could you really call it that with how you're feeling right now? things have always felt platonic between you two or so you want to convince yourself to believe. there were .. moments. times where the line between friendship and romance would blur. actually you think the line has always been blurred. it was just so normal to you two that you never thought about it.
as you take a bite out of your dessert, the sweetness of it matches the thoughts floating around in your mind. those thoughts may be the reason you're having a slight crisis right now, but still, they're sweet.
you think back on the time jessie and you went to the first school dance held in elementary. it was seventh grade. all the other girls in your class were planning on going with boys in your grade or just going together as friends. jessie and you were obviously going to go together as friends too, but the way she asked didn't feel as friendly as you remember it.
it was after a cross-country meet. you're sitting beside jessie on the empty bleachers, waiting for her mother to arrive so you two could go home. you have bought along a small board that jessie called embarrassing; it said jessie fleming is my usain bolt. the canadian almost fell over when she spotted that in the crowd.
"i nearly died because of you," jessie laughs, pushing your shoulder with hers. you roll your eyes. quick to say, "a true athlete doesn't get distracted from anything."
jessie scoffs. replying back just as quickly to say how every athlete has their weakness and perhaps you were hers. when she said that back then, your heart fluttered for a moment. you pushed that feeling away. thinking that you're just happy she considered you that important to be her weakness. after the conversation, jessie had gotten up.
"stay right here. i have to grab something near the stairs, i forgot my chapstick there," she says. walking away quickly towards the stairs connected to the bleachers. you watch her from behind stop at the end of the stairs, leaning over to grab something off the ground. you aren't sure what it is until she comes back up the stairs with yellow flowers in her hand.
"did you just pick dandelions out of the ground?" you ask, smiling as jessie hands the flowers to you.
"yeah and be grateful. i had to not pull them out too harshly, they're all weak since it's fall and all," jessie sits down beside you. all her attention on you as she tries to see your reaction. you're smiling down at the flowers before smiling at jessie again. "thanks freckles. they're cute."
jessie smiles, "don't thank me. i only got you these flowers so you would say yes." the serious undertone underneath the playful one in her voice makes you look at her.
"say yes to what? are you about to ask me to commit murder with you?"
"what..? no, can you be serious for once in your life?"
"okay, go ahead. sorry." you say. setting the flowers aside before grabbing jessie's hands. she lets out a sigh, "will you go to the dance with me?"
you blink at her blankly, laughing loudly after a moment. jessie lets out a nervous chuckle. confused on if you were laughing at her. she soon gets her answer when you say, "duh, i'll go with you. didn't even have to ask but thanks."
jessie pushes you, gasping at your dramatics. "don't pull something like that again. i thought you were going to reject me."
"god, sorry. it was just funny."
"shut up before i take my invite back."
"you wouldn't dare."
jessie and you aren't able to finish your bickering as her mother pulls up. you two run off to the car, racing. the freckled girl obviously won the race. blame her athleticism. that was one of the only days jessie was glad her mother was late to picking you two up since it gave her time to ask you to the dance.
you two went together to the dance and wore matching outfits that your mother still has a photo of hanging in your childhood home.
you are snapped out of your reminiscing of the past when your phone rings. looking down to see jessie's contact on your phone. a mix of anxiety and happiness fills your heart. you don't want to answer really, but it's jessie. your jessie. ignoring her feels wrong. instead of answering her call, you text her.
you
can't answer
on the bus
the excuse doesn't land that well, but that's all you can come up with. you can tell jessie is skeptical, but doesn't question you.
freckles 💗
thought you were with blondie
what bus?
are you on your way back to the dorm?
you
don't bring her up
i'll tell you in a few minutes
just wait
freckles 💗
you're being weird??
stay safe
come back before it's night
love you
usually seeing jessie says she loves you makes you smile and it still does because, well, it's jessie but it also fuels your anxiety. was it more behind those words? did you want it to be more? two questions you aren't able to answer yet and that drives you up a wall. still you text back; jessie could never be ignored by you.
you
love you too 💞
i'm coming soon
wait for me
jessie is sitting in your bed, having finished her documentary a while ago. your texts felt different and she couldn't put her finger on why. she will worry about that later. instead focusing on how you said not to bring up ms blondie and the fact you weren't in y'all's dorm, in bed, beside her. two sides of a coin; she feels a mix of happiness and anxiety. just like you. too bad you two aren't together at the moment. maybe y'all could have figured out these emotions together.
meanwhile, you're finishing up your dessert. having taken jessie off of the list of people who can bypass the do not disturb on your phone. taking her off nearly broke your heart, but at the moment it's for the best. you need some time to just think without interacting with her.
it takes you a while to finish the dessert. the actual time it takes you to finish eating isn't that long, but you stayed in the park for at least an hour longer than you needed. thinking to yourself about jessie and you and what she means to you and what you mean to her.
just questions swirling around in the mess of an ocean your mind is right now. just like the depth of the ocean, nothing is clear to you.
you wish you had more time to just sit and think, but you don't. being in a park late at night in la is not a good combination, so you pull yourself off of the bench. throwing away the empty container that your sweet treat came in. you make your way to the bus and get on, not realizing that jessie was texting you.
the worry in jessie's heart is now way bigger than before. you are out somewhere, late, and aren't responding to her texts. even though it pains her to think about, jessie would feel somewhat better if you were with sasha. at least she would know where you were and at least you would be with someone. you not replying to her texts is the last straw and she's almost ready to just go out and find you. thirty minutes. she'll give you thirty minutes to come back before she goes out on some wild goose chase to find you.
and that's all you need. right when jessie opens the door of y'all's dorm to leave, you're standing. right there infront of the door. you have actually came back to campus around ten minutes before she was about to leave out. still feeling anxious, you walked around campus for a bit. passing by the dorm building twice before finally going inside. deciding that was enough walking around and avoiding for one day.
jessie nearly drops her phone as she pulls you into a hug. you want to pull away, you want to just turn around and leave because you really can't handle this right now. sasha's words are ringing in your ears. are you already taken by jessie? what could this mean for you two's friendship? you want to think and pick these questions a part, but at the moment you really can't. instead you collapse into jessie's arms. you can't help yourself. she's like your pillar of strength. every time, any time you felt hurt, jessie's there.
there to hold you, comfort you, and make sure you're alright. so can you be blamed if you fall back into her the moment you see her? you can't turn away from jessie, you just can't.
"i don't want to seem controlling, but please don't do that ever again," jessie says softly. pulling you into the room with her before pushing the door closed with her foot. "i almost called your mom, my mom, your dad, my dad.. just anyone who i thought could reach you. my heart can't handle something like this again," jessie continues to speak. needing to spill out all the worry that was inside of her. it takes her a moment that you're silent. just resting your face against her chest, your arms holding on tightly to her waist.
"what's wrong..? what happened?" the soccer player asks. not pulling away since she doesn't think that's what you need at the moment.
finally you speak, "women are horrible and i don't understand why i like them." jessie wants to laugh at your words like she usually does when you say something this blunt and dramatic, but she can't. not when your voice is shaky. her mind thinks about sasha; did that blonde chick hurt you? the thought of sasha hurting you puts a pit in her stomach.
"did blondie dump you?" she asks. you almost laugh at the fact that jessie can't even say her name. maybe sasha was right about how jessie talks about her behind her back. not to give sasha any credit or anything. you would laugh if you didn't feel a mountain of built up emotions inside of you. "no, i dumped her. she was.. too much."
jessie waits for you to expand and explain what happened, but a minute passes. then another. then another and nothing comes, so she moves now. you two will talk about it eventually. instead she focuses on comforting you.
pulling you towards her bed, letting you go just to grab some of her pajamas for you to wear, and holding you for a long while, making sure your body feels some type of calm, before letting you change.
you're slow to change, but right after you're finished she pulls you down onto her bed. like always you two's bodies tangle with eachother. her arms wrapped around you. yours wrapped around hers. your face is pressed against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. it's calming, so familiar. unlike the thoughts that plague you; there is no need to think about them right now though.
"just know.. she wasn't worth it anyways. whatever she did, i don't know, you tell me later. just know it has nothing to do with you," jessie whispers, playing with your hair. the words are comforting like a warm blanket, comforting just like jessie's warm body. the soccer player doesn't know what's wrong, but it's like an instinct to comfort you. she wants to be happy that sasha is out of the way but at the same time if sasha being out of the way means you're hurt then maybe it wasn't for the best. yes, she was being passive aggressive with sasha and treating her pretty unfairly but jessie would have came around. eventually. if it would have made you happy then yeah she would have gave it up.
if only jessie knew that your emotions didn't have nothing to do with sasha at all. they all have to do with her. only her.
you don't respond to her words, but you let her know that you appreciate them. giving her lower back a few rubs. hoping that she gets the message and she does. she always does.
jessie slowly falls asleep first. having to worry over you have tired her out. it doesn't take long for you to follow after. one thought in your mind:
you might, most likely, definitely are in love with your bestfriend (how you didn't realize it before? no one knows) but you need some time. more time than this to figure out what to do about this feeling.
you don't go about needing this time in the healthiest way. the next morning, you're ready to tell jessie what happened. you tell her the truth.. mostly. not willing to tell her about the question sasha asked. instead opting to tell her that basically sasha didn't like the closeness between you two and that she knew that jessie didn't like her.
"she seemed like the type to be all pissy over something like that," jessie says after spitting out the toothpaste in her mouth. she's standing in the bathroom, getting ready for the morning class she had to schedule to finish her class requirements on time. "i would say i'm sorry for ruining that .. situation? between you two but it seems like she wasn't in it for the long haul anyways," she continues. happy that she can get the opportunity to make fun of sasha.
you roll your eyes, smiling. you are feeling better but still you feel the need to distance yourself from jessie, so you can think clearly. not blinded by that freckled face with that cute smile. instead of walking into the bathroom to bicker with her, you stay near the doorframe. looking at her as you say, "yeah. she was whatever. enough of her, how is the class going?"
"like shit. i don't get how you wake up at eight am everyday and actually go out and be productive. i need my rest firstly," jessie doesn't say anything about how you cut the conversation short. it's not that she doesn't notice, but she doesn't really care for sasha at all. whether to dunk on her or not, sasha holds no space in her mind now that you and the blonde are over. as long as you're okay, she's okay.
you let jessie rant about how getting up early in the morning for a class is ridiculous and should probably be illegal and how you're insane for actually being a morning person. you smile the entire time, enjoying seeing jessie being so animated. a trait of hers that comes out the most when she's annoyed.
"maybe you should get some coffee on the way, hm?" you tease after jessie is ready to leave. she smacks your shoulder, smiling once you say ow.
"see you later if i don't die on the way from sleep deprivation," jessie says as she leaves out of the door. you roll your eyes at her unusual dramatics. "i'll play the sound of whales talking at your funeral. don't worry," you say.
"god, you really do love me," she checks her phone after saying that. giving you a quick wave before running off, noticing that she's already late to the class. you peek out of the dorm room. giggling at jessie's fleeing figure.
now you can think. bless your professor for cancelling your morning class today. you close the door before going to sit on jessie's bed. it's comforting. being surrounded by her presence makes you feel calm. you'll figure this all out. you have to.
why you couldn't just talk to jessie about this like how you talk to her about everything else? you're afraid that things will change between you two. it's easy to fall into the usual routine of being close, not even thinking about what it could mean for the both of you but if you mention your feelings, will things change? what if sasha is wrong and jessie actually doesn't like you? will you lose your bestfriend?
will you still be friends?
you lean back onto her pillows, pulling up her blanket to cover your entire body. drowning yourself in just jessie makes the questions quieter than before. you don't want to lose jessie, but not saying anything feels like you're keeping a secret from her. curse sasha for making you question everything. she doesn't even have the right to question what jessie and you have. now you're stuck with the feelings left over.
all this stress on your mind makes you sleepy. and you let yourself sleep. your mind is busy while your surroundings are calmer than ever. all due to jessie. the way she can makes you feel complicating emotions is crazy, but makes sense. she is jessie after all. your jessie.
you're out in minutes.
it's three hours later when jessie comes back to the dorm, exhausted and ready to sleep away the rest of the day until you came back to the dorm. she doesn't notice the lump of your body under her blanket as she drops her bag down near the dresser, grabbing some clothes before going into the bathroom to shower. twenty minutes later she's out, hair still slightly wet, as she wears her boxers and t-shirt. she doesn't you until she goes to sit on her bed and feels something under her.
"what..?" jessie sits up, turning to look at her blanket. she pulls it up to see your sleeping face. a laugh of disbelief leaves her lips then quickly her expression changes to confusion. why were you here? you have classes around this time and never miss them since they're essential to your major. now she is really worried. were you sleeping away your small heartbreak from blondie or something?
she doesn't wake up as she slips in bed beside you. pressing her body against yours, her hands resting against your stomach. she nuzzles her face in the small space between the pillow and your neck. taking in your scent before pulling the blanket back over you two. she'll ask you about this later.
and that later comes when you two wake up around the same time. around ten pm, you wake up first. a small panic makes you want to sit up, confused on why you didn't wake up for all your other classes but you can't. a strong arm is over your waist, keeping you down.
"i love you but please everytime you move i wake up a little bit more and i would like to stay asleep, thank you," jessie murmurs. pulling you closer and you let her like always. "thought you were a deep sleeper?" you mumble back.
jessie lets out a tired chuckle. moving her hand to play with the waistband of your pajama pants. she does that often, but this time around you notice the flutter in your heart. was that always there? it probably was, you were just oblivious and wrote it off as just enjoying the movement. "i think i became a light sleeper after you kept waking me because of your morning classes."
"so it's my fault? sorry for ruining your sleep schedule then, freckles," you turn so that you two are facing face to face. her nose tickles yours. "apology accepted. uh, now speaking of classes. why didn't you go to yours?" jessie whispers. she could tell you were feeling sensitive especially from how you acted yesterday. she always knows what to say, what to do, how to act. how could you not realize you're in love with her before?
you stay silent for a moment to think over your answer. should you just tell her about your dilemma or keep it a secret for longer? you go with the latter.
"i don't know.. just tired. i guess my body needed a rest from that studying and running around from class to class," you say. jessie narrows her eyes at you like she doesn't think you're telling the truth and she doesn't. as your bestfriend she can tell when you're lying, easily. you start to talk all slow and soft like that will lighten the weight of your lie. your words aren't entirely a lie though.. just half.
"okay. just always know i'm here for you. if you really need a break we can go somewhere," her hand that's playing with your waistband slips slightly underneath. her holding onto your hip underneath your clothes wasn't weird. she likes the warmth and you like the feeling of something there. usually you would just enjoy it, but now it feels different. why are your emotions being this way? again, curse sasha.
"it's okay. i just want to stay here. i just need some time to decompress? i don't know.."
"if you need anything i'm here.." jessie's words are broken up by a yawn, "in the morning. i'm about to fall asleep again." you giggle, pushing away some of her hair that fell over her face. "okay, sleep. i'll be here in the morning freckles."
"where else would you be?" the canadian mumbles, slightly confused but just taking it as a joke. she drifts off to sleep easily after that. meanwhile you? it took a while to sleep. you just lay there, holding onto jessie as she holds onto you. thinking and thinking.
about the future, about jessie, about what to do.
what will you do?
distance. that's the decision you make for the time being when it comes to jessie and you. it's only temporary, you would never want to lose jessie forever. you just need a moment. a few moments.
it starts off slow with you deciding to not wear her clothes as much. usually you walk out of your dorm in at least one piece of her clothing. jessie doesn't really notice the change since you two's clothes are so mixed together at this point you guys share a closet. she can't tell the difference between her clothes or yours unless it's one of your croptops or short skirts you occasionally wear.
the weird feeling of not having something of hers on your body as you move around campus from class to class is jarring, but you need this. just to see if you are always thinking about jessie because you are really in love with her or because you have an attachment to something of hers that's physically with you.
you experiment with this little method of yours for a good week before you decide that's enough. you were missing the feeling of jessie being with you even if she wasn't physically and ultimately you realize that, yes, you're still thinking about jessie all the time. not because of some item but because it's jessie.
"finally you have my name on your back. thought you got ashamed of me or something," jessie jokes as she sits on her bed. watching you about to leave out of the dorm door. you're wearing one of her canadian jerseys with your outfit.
"as if. always proud of you, freckles. now i have to run or i'll be late like you." then you're gone out of the door. leaving jessie to her own devices.
your next method of checking if your feelings are in fact love is by replying to jessie's texts later and later. when you were out, your phone was on do not disturb and you didn't let jessie be one of the people to bypass that. wanting to see if not replying to her right away did something to you.
it definitely did and it did something to jessie too. the moment you stepped back into the dorm, she was ready to question you.
"you can't ignore me. what if i needed help with something or wanted you to buy a snack from the store?" jessie pouts, taking your purse away from you so that she can grab your phone out of it. "i wasn't ignoring you. i was busy, jess."
"yeah, okay. i believe you.." her attention is obviously not focused on you as she unlocks your phone. going straight to your do not disturb settings to see what's going on. she holds the phone up to your face and points to it, "why am i not on here?"
you are quick to make up some excuse. distracting jessie as you tell her that you will buy her some more non-fiction books if she forgives and easily just like that she does. still she's starting to get skeptical and more worried.
your little tests continue. you try to sleep in your own bed and convince jessie that it was too hot to cuddle which wasn't an entire lie. la is hot nearly all year around so it makes sense, but jessie can only take not having your cuddles for so long. after three days she basically collapsed on top of you, saying, "don't tell me to move away. i don't care, i'm sleepy and you haven't held me in forever. we always sleep together please.."
you give in right that moment. letting her sleep in your bed again.
while you're trying to figure everything out, jessie is figuring out her own feelings. why were you being distant? you may think she doesn't notice but she does. jessie nuzzles her face into your neck, searching for your usual comforting scent. you said you said you wouldn't push her away. that you wouldn't let her go. if acting like this isn't pushing away then she doesn't know what is.
after sasha did something wrong, are you avoiding affection? just avoiding people? jessie wishes she could peek into your mind. she's good at getting the gist of your emotions; that's from years of being by your side, but that doesn't mean communication isn't needed. that doesn't mean you didn't use to come straight to her with any problem and talk about it. instead of it being sasha's fault, was it jessie's fault? have the canadian done something to you and you didn't tell her?
that can't be right. you aren't like her who would rather be silent then express what's going on in her head. you were blunt and spoke your mind easily especially with jessie.
the soccer player doesn't like questioning herself or you, she just doesn't. she's secure in you two's friendship but it feels like you aren't at moment. just one push will lead jessie to just outright asking you. she can't take it anymore. she refuses to be tossed aside.
all those tests did nothing for your situation except confirming something you already knew: you're in love with jessie. your best friend who you have known since you were seven. the main reason why you chose to come to college in america and apply to ucla. the person you couldn't imagine being without. there is still one problem when it comes to all of this.
how does jessie feel? you don't want to ask, you don't want to know but at the same time you do. it's just frightening and unfamiliar to address at the moment so you don't.
instead you want to get away from everything. from jessie, your thoughts, all the baggage that comes with them. you just need an escape and you find it in gabriela. the spanish exchange student is happy to bring you along to one of the many parties she attends. you haven't gone to a single party this entire school year, too focused on your major and jessie. now with you pushing jessie aside for the moment you have the time. it's the weekend, you can let go for this once.
jessie's is away at the gym when you start to get ready to leave out. it's around nine, usually jessie would be in the dorm by this time but she's been slacking on staying in shape due to how many classes she had to take lately so now she's been taking time out to go to the gym at night. this was the perfect opportunity to get away without her noticing. knowing that she would question you and probably ask to come along if you said you were going to a party; with her always wanting to be you when you go somewhere unfamiliar.
you look in the mirror of the bathroom. the tight black dress on your body looks good and makes you feel good. your makeup is done, your hair is done, and you decide against wearing heels. feeling a bunch of pain in your feet won't help at all with you trying to forget everything.
as you walk out of the bathroom and go straight to your dorm door, shutting it behind you after you step out. the only thing you have is your purse that holds your phone and wallet. just because you were running away from your thoughts doesn't mean you were going to put yourself in a bad situation.
you
going to some party
i'll be back. don't worry 🩷
you text to jessie as you walk down the stairs. she doesn't reply and you don't expect her to. knowing she always puts her phone on do not disturb while at the gym, even for you (especially for you) because she's been getting distracted easily lately. good. she won't be on your mind for at least an hour or two if she doesn't text; that's what you tell yourself but it's not true. you're going to think about her entire the night but it's nice to think the opposite at the moment.
gabriela is waiting outside of your dorm building. she's wearing a dress similar to yours, but in pink. she grabs your hand once you come out, pulling you towards one of the ways out of campus.
"c'mon. these other girls are going to give us a ride," she smiles at you as she pulls you along. you laugh at how quickly she moves. obviously trying to get to the party right away.
"didn't know it was off campus," you say as you two reach the car. "everytime there are parties on campus they get noise complaints, so we just change spots," gabriela explains. a tall girl with braids sits in the passenger seat and you can see a short redhead in the driver's seat as you two approach a white car. both are wearing dresses as well. gabriela lets go of your hand to open the door for you, so you slip into the car and she follows after.
"hey girls! this is my friend, y/n. she's haven't been out like the entire time she been at ucla and i think she needs a good party," gabriela with her naturally friendly nature starts a conversation with the two women as the redhead pulls off. it's take a moment but you fall into the conversation too. your outgoing personality was showing itself.
by the time you all get to the party you get to know that the redhead is amber and the girl with braids is celeste. they're both quite friendly and you swear celeste is a little drunk already, but you don't mind really.
some pop song blasts throughout the house gabriela drags you into. there are so many people inside that you feel like you're in some elevator. despite all the people, gabriela pushes past them all to take you to the kitchen. letting go of your hand to start to make you a drink.
"i think you need to get a little drunk, yeah? just let it all go girl," she smiles as she hands you the mix of alcohol. it's some type of liquor, you don't know what but it doesn't taste bad going down your throat as you drink some.
"it's alright!" you shout over the music. the spainard nods her head in approval. you two stand in the kitchen for a little while, talking and drinking. some people would come in and out of the kitchen but most are out in the living room or even down in the basement. you feel yourself loosing up more as you drink more. your mind is only focused on one thing; dancing.
you grab onto gabriela's wrist, pulling her out of the kitchen. "come dance with me or you're no fun," you whisper against her ear when you two stop for a moment then you pull her all the way to where most people are dancing. gabriela presses her body against yours when you two start dancing. smiling when you let out a drunken giggle.
"it is fun, isn't it?" she whispers to you, right against your ear. you don't reply. just pulling her closer as the song changes.
it's nearly eleven when jessie checks her phone. now fully showered and changed after using the gym showers. she almost screamed because she swear she saw a mouse, but still she's clean now. she's walking out of the gym, scrolling through her messages. "what the hell..?" jessie mumbles, seeing your text. going to some party. i'll be back. don't worry 🩷
yeah, that's totally going to make her not worry. you never told her about going out earlier today or the day before. why wouldn't you tell her like you always do? this distant situation going on with you was not something she was about and this was the final straw.
when the canadian reaches you two's dorm, she tries to call you and it goes straight to voicemail. okay, worrying, but not too crazy. you were out at a party. you probably didn't hear the call, so she sends you back a text.
freckles 💗
it's getting late
are you coming back?
hurry please you said you watch the cheetah documentary with me
stay safe please ❤️
she waits almost forty minutes to see if you reply back or even read the text, but nope. nothing and no call back either. jessie doesn't want to seem like some obsessed friend, but with you not only being distant but not even telling her that you were going to go somewhere like you always do, she has a right to be worried.
who were you with? and where exactly were you? two questions that were about to be answered if jessie plays her cards right. she was going to come and find you because frankly she has had enough. the canadian texts the first person she knows that seem to always be out and about at different parties; hallie.
ms. canadian
hallie
help me out please 🙏🏻
blonde #1
anything for my fave syrup sippier
what is it?
ms. canadian
don't call me that again
anyways
do you know any parties that are going on right now?
blonde #1
none on campus. people kept sending noise complaints 😐
there is one i got invited to by some redhead. forgot her name
she's in my pottery class
never ended up going because .. i have an exam tomorrow so
ms. canadian
can you take me there?
i'll explain later
blonde #1
weird coming from you but okay
gimme five minutes and i'll be outside your dorm
jessie doesn't reply. putting her phone down so she can slip back on her shoes. it takes less then five minutes for hallie to knock on the dorm door. she was only down the hall anyways.
"so why are you, the most i don't like parties person ever, asking me to take you to a party?" hallie asks as jessie comes out of the room. locking it behind herself before the two start to walk out of the dorm building.
"because.. y/n might be there and she asked me to come get her so," jessie half lies. you haven't even replied to her text, but hallie didn't need to know that. the blonde takes the excuse easily. paying more attention to how she hates that her exams are stopping her from living her best college life. jessie listens to her rants on the way to party. all of the brunette's attention on you and what's going to happen once she finds you.
you have drunk at least four drinks in the past almost two hours. being a light weight is no fun as you're now sitting on the back patio which is surprisingly empty. gabriela is somewhere inside. probably off making out with some girl. earlier when you were drinking, you didn't think about anything but now that you slowed down and is out of that party environment, all you can think about is jessie.
why are things this way? why are you this way? why can't you just talk to jessie and just ask her. are you in love with me? why you can't just tell her. i'm in love with you.
nothing makes sense and you're out here on this patio alone and you want another drink but too tired to go back into that music filled building and all those thoughts you been pushing away are suddenly and you swear tears are about to swell up in your eyes and you hear jessie?
"why is up with you and running off?" you turn to see jessie on the back patio as well. while you were overthinking in your drunken state, hallie and jessie had made it to the party. with jessie somehow finding gabriela on the couch kissing some girl that jessie didn't have the time or care to give a glance to. after being told where you were, she immediately came outside.
"well, are you going to answer?" she says, coming closer to where you are on the patio steps. this is really what you don't need right now or is it actually what you been needing all along? with the mix of your buildup of thoughts and the alcohol, you stand, ready to say something.
"i was trying to get away from you.." the words come out in a mumble, loud enough just for jessie to hear. a hurt expression is on the brunette's face, but she doesn't step away from you. instead pulling you close. "why? what did i do? what did i say?" she whispers to you as she leans in close so you two's faces are close enough to hear eachother. "i been trying to get why you're distant and i just can't. you said you wouldn't push me away, that you wouldn't let me go, so why are you now? what could i have possibly done?"
the self doubt in her tone makes you frown. your hands move to hold onto her waist; a comfort.
"nothing. it's me, it's my fault," you whisper back. jessie looks confused but she wasn't going to let this conversation end here.
"just tell me what's going on and we'll figure it out. we always do," she leans in closer. her nose touching yours.
you might as well say it right? jessie's so close, she's right here in front of you. she wants to know.
"i think i'm in love with you," you say. closely watching jessie's expression go blank. she blinks, once, twice then she smiles, "i think i'm in love with you too."
and then she kisses you. it isn't the most romantic scene ever. on the back patio of some college party, but still the kiss feels so warm. so comforting. so right.
author notes: that was a lot 🙇🏽♀️ probably the most mentally exhausting part to write so far, but i love this actually even tho it feels a bit rushed. finally we're getting somewhere. hope y'all liked it!
© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN
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May i request paying a visit to a hospitalized Leon (after a mission) and bringing a chocolate box for him?
waiting room
—you visit leon in the hospital after a mission despite your hatred for them, a blurb
masterlist taglist
you hated this place.
you’ve always hated hospitals and you don’t know why. especially today, especially now. you hate being here. if you thought about it hard enough it could’ve been all those years you sat by your dads beside praying that the chemotherapy would finally work.
and of course, it didn’t.
but you weren’t here for your dad today, today you were here for leon, your boyfriend. and this only made the hatred stronger, made your uncomfortable feelings rise as you stepped through the wing of the hospital.
you had brought him chocolate, a teddy bear and some flowers. you didn’t do anything sappy like a greeting card or a stupid balloon that said GET WELL SOON!! with silly letters on it.
no, you brought flowers, chocolate and a cute little stuffed bear. you didn’t want to come empty handed, you couldn’t come empty handed. it just didn’t feel right.
you checked in at the front and they guided you to sit in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs outside of the many rooms. you tried to hide your discomfort and tried to remember the real and true reason why you were here.
the nurse told you that you could go in, so you get up. the box of chocolates in hand and the teddy bear, flowers in the other. making your way to the room that the nurse is leading you to.
you hate that every step you take is one you’ve taken before years earlier, the noise of the hospital doesn’t help. doesn’t make the thudding in your bones help as you keep walking behind the nurse as she leads you down the long hallway.
you feel like puking, running or just maybe fainting.
but you follow, then you get to the room leon’s in. the nurse opens the door for you and you go in, glancing around the white walls, the tv mounted in the far corner and then him.
he’s got a bandage around his large upper bicep, he’s staring out the window of the hospital from his hospital bed. he seems to be in a deep thought, like maybe he wishes he wasn’t here either.
you clear your throat and his gaze goes to you, those stunning blue eyes snapping to you in an instant. he gazes over you, then the box of chocolates, the teddy bear and then the flowers.
“you came.” he says in a raspy voice, defining his exhaustion with just two words. you blink and lick your lips, “why wouldn’t i have? you got some other girl visiting you and bringing you stuff?” you joke lamely as you walk towards the small nightstand beside the hospital bed. the beeping of the monitor and the IVs in his arms making you realize why your really here.
he follows your every movement as you sit down the gifts you brought him, then stand by his bed and look him over. “of course not,” he says as he rests his head against the pillow, “i just know how much you hate hospitals.”
you sigh and grabs his hand, rubbing over his scarred knuckles, looking down into his eyes. “i hate it, yes. but i braved it for you.” you give him a wry smile and squeeze his hand in your own.
he shakes his head, “the things people do for love.” he admits with a small chuckle, you blink at him and swallow. “you love me?” you whisper softly.
almost in astonishment and nervousness for a whole different reason now, besides being in a hospital. his blue eyes meet your own, “was that not obvious when i…asked you to come here?” he says with a nervous laugh.
you squeeze his hand and smile, “it…it was. i just, you haven’t really said that yet.” you blink a little and feel your cheeks heat up. he looks up at you, “well,” he moves closer to you in his hospital bed, “i do love you, honey. i love you so much.” he says with a little bit of water in his eyes.
you nod and smile, a large one that couldn’t even be coaxed out of you by someone with a gun to your head. he loved you, he had suffered on a mission and made it back alive. and he was here, injured, telling you that he loved you. it was not what you expected to happen when you went to the hospital to see him today.
but your glad you did.
you were glad that he was fine, that he only got some minor bruising and injuries. because if anything happened to this man on your watch, while you were in his life. it wouldn’t be easy, he had lived to tell you he loved you.
and deep down, you knew you loved him too.
suddenly, being in a hospital to see him didn’t seem scary anymore. it seemed something that was easy, that you could have no problem doing. what was far scarier were the words slipping out of your mouth as you looked down at him.
“i love you too.” you managed to get out, squeezing his hand so tightly that you were deeply afraid that you could break it. but he was strong, sometimes he seemed indestructible. at the rate of how little damage he took on this last mission, only have a couple bruises and a fractured wrist.
you had both gotten so lucky, so lucky to have found each other. despite your hatred for hospitals and his for admitting his feelings, here you both were. you were both accomplishing your fears today.
you leaned down and pressed your lips to his, carefully and mindful of the strain on his body. the thought of him being in a hospital bed was obsolete and it didn’t scare you as much as you thought it would. not now, not here with him.
he kissed you back, his uninjured hand still gripping yours tightly. he poured every drop of his love and affection into that kiss as he could muster. wanting to give you something to latch onto, a promise, that he actually meant what he said. that it wasn’t just lip service.
“i love you.” he whispers against your lips, breathing in the same oxygen as you, like he would die without it. you let out a breathless laugh that fanned against his lips, “i love you too, so very much.”
love was simple, it was a fear from him that was as easily accomplished like one of his missions. he took what he could get, he faced it.
just like you faced your fear to be here, holding his hand and kissing him. bringing him ridiculously corny gifts, staying with him and not running when he admitted his feelings to you.
you both deserved each other.
fear or no fear, love or no love. you both could do it, this proved that. you both would be okay, he would be the one to absorb all the pain and love he was offered, the same as you.
because he loved you, and that could never be scary.
an: slowly working on all my requests, i hate how long it’s taking me but i work like 40 hours a week now and i only get two days off 🫣 i never get time for anything anymore. it sucks major ass, but at least, im almost done with most of them. but i hope you enjoyed this, hopefully. i hope it met your guy’s expectations lol <333 i love you all, kisses, xx.
#leon kennedy#leon x reader#re2 leon#re4 remake#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy au#re2 remake#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#re6 leon x reader#leon kennedy drabble#re4 leon x reader#re2 leon kennedy x reader#di leon x reader#resident evil#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy angst#re4 leon#leon kennedy fluff#hospital au
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you’re interning with the maple leafs athletic training department after graduating university in the health field. you’re new to the city & don’t know anyone. ur quiet and only engage with players when spoken too. it’s obvious ur intelligent and very career driven. you have an independent vibe. it’s clear ur not impressed or starstruck by players, but not in a rude way its just u aren’t interested in hockey as a sport only the health aspect as it relates to ur career, so ur vibe gives off very much *professional only here to get paid*😂….anyway willy thought you were stunning initially,but he was caught off guard since ur not his usual type and don’t have the same physical or aesthetic look as any other gf/vibe in the league. ur appearance is very feminine but u dress streetwear tomboy. ur slim but with an hourglass build athletic legs /big butt. u have big long curly hair that u let flow wild and don’t wear makeup but ur skin glows and thick dark eyelashes /rosey lips are striking. its clear willy is not the only one that finds u intriguing bc he’s noticed few players act “different” when u come around -and he can tell they’re crushing on you. they’re harmlessly flirtatious with u but ur oblivious. he knows someone will ask u out soon. how do you think willy reacts? does he make a move? does he feel jealous? he hasn’t even had a chance to introduce himself, yet he’s seen other players find an excuse to interact with u. he knew he was interested but didn’t expect to have to act so soon. does chill willy feel like he has competition or nah? can you write something to add or finish the plot or just take this concept and create ur own magic 😅 i have the vision but definitely not the skill or outlet lmao
Absolutely, babe! So, this was more than just something and I definitely enjoyed it 🤍 You provided me with so much inspiration, and I hope I've managed to convey your vision at least to some extent 😉
Perhaps there's room for a sequel, but I also believe it stands strong on its own - either way, my wish is for you to enjoy it 🤗
Warnings; none, it's pure fluff 🌺 maybe some language, but nothing out of the ordinary;
Word count; 5K
Song inspiration; "Lovestoned/ I Think She Knows" by Justin Timberlake
Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @justwanderingbutneverlost
・✶ ｡ﾟ
She’s got me Lovestoned I William Nylander 🖋️🌺
“She looks like a model
Except she's got a little more ass
Don't even bother
Unless you've got that thing she likes
I hope she's going home with me tonight”
Your heart raced with excitement as you followed your manager through the busy corridors of the Maple Leafs' training facility. The sound of skates scraping against the ice and the reverberation of pucks hitting the boards filled the atmosphere, adding to the tangible buzz of the surroundings.
Freshly graduated from university with a degree in the healthcare field, you had long imagined this moment. Securing an internship with the athletic training department of one of the most esteemed sports teams in the league was a dream come true – an opportunity to apply your expertise and knowledge in a practical environment.
As you strolled, you couldn't help but admire the cutting-edge facilities surrounding you. From the fully equipped gym to the medical treatment rooms, every aspect was crafted to ensure the players received optimal care and resources.
And your manager, sensing your admiration, offered you a warm smile. "Welcome to the team miss y/l/n," they said, their tone brimming with pride. "We're delighted to have you join us."
You reciprocated the smile, thankful for the chance and eager to demonstrate your abilities. This was your moment to establish yourself in the realm of sports medicine, to glean knowledge from the experts and contribute to the team's triumphs.
And as you continued to explore the facility, a surge of excitement pulsed through you. This marked merely the beginning of your journey with the Maple Leafs, and you were resolute in seizing every opportunity that lay ahead.
_
As you settled into your role as an intern within both the Medical and Performance teams, your reserved and composed demeanour became apparent to those around you. You'd always been one to let your actions do the talking, and this remained unchanged in your new environment.
Focused and resolute, you approached each task with unwavering commitment; whether it involved aiding in rehabilitation exercises or conducting pre-season screenings, you handled each duty with precision and diligence.
While some might have mistaken your quiet nature for aloofness, those who took the time to understand you soon discovered there was more beneath the surface. You were intelligent, determined, and fiercely independent – a formidable presence in your own right.
Unlike many others in your position, you weren't swayed by the glamour of professional hockey. While you respected the sport and admired the players' athleticism, your focus lay solely on the health and well-being aspect, aligning with your career aspirations.
To you, the players were not celebrities to be idolised but individuals to be cared for – athletes whose welfare relied on your expertise. And you simply approached your responsibilities with professionalism and purpose, recognising the significance of your role in the team's success.
Yet, although you kept to yourself, speaking only, when necessary, your influence permeated the facility. Your dedication to excellence and the players' wellbeing garnered the respect and admiration of your colleagues. And as you delved deeper into your work, you found a profound sense of satisfaction, knowing you were making a meaningful impact on the athletes' lives and careers.
_
As the first two weeks of your internship with the team flew by faster than you’d expected, you quickly became fully engrossed in the dynamic world of professional hockey. The days were a whirlwind of absorbing new information, making acquaintances with staff and players, and engaging in hands-on tasks that put your skills and knowledge to the test.
With the start of the regular hockey season on the horizon, the gravity of the job began to dawn on you. However, far from feeling daunted, you embraced the challenge with enthusiasm and resolve. This was the culmination of your training, the result of your hard work, and you were prepared to demonstrate your worth.
With each passing day, your confidence in your abilities grew, and you found your rhythm within the team. Yet, while your focus remained on your duties, you gradually began to forge connections with those around you, as the staff and players greeted you with open arms, fostering a sense of camaraderie that made it easy to acclimate to your new surroundings. Your initial intention to maintain a professional distance slowly faded, and you somehow found yourself drawn into the team's social dynamics.
As time went on, laughter and friendly banter became commonplace during the long hours spent with your colleagues, and before you knew it, you were joining in with the playful teasing.
"Come on, Lou," you chuckled. "Who's the trickiest player?" you quipped.
"I can’t say..." Louis Rojas, the Head Strength and Conditioning Coach, chuckled in response. "But there are certainly a few who need a gentle nudge when it comes to the rehabilitation aspect of training..." he winked. "And I won't name names, but it seems like the longer they've been on the team, the more inflated their ego becomes."
It was all good-natured banter, naturally. From your perspective, each player had their own unique traits, but you understood why – this was the results of their lifelong dream, pursued with sacrifices of social life and late nights for early morning training sessions and weekend games.
And despite the jests, you felt like you were part of a close-knit family among your peers.
Whether it was the late nights after a defeat or the shared jubilation following a hard-fought victory, every experience drew you nearer to your team. And when a player sustained an injury, regardless of how minor, you felt the weight of responsibility, knowing you played a vital role in the team's support structure.
Even the players, initially unfamiliar with your reserved nature, began to open up to you as they became more acquainted. Despite any unintentional distance, they valued your commitment and professionalism, gradually extending their trust and respect.
And as you navigated through the highs and lows of the hockey beginning of the season alongside your newfound comrades, you couldn't help but sense a feeling of belonging – a realisation that, despite any initial hesitations, you were precisely where you were meant to be.
_
“She shuts the room down
The way she walks and causes a fuss
The baddest in town
She's flawless like some uncut ice
I hope she's going home with me tonight”
As the months went by, more players gradually began to get to know your personality a bit better, noticing the subtle sparks you unintentionally ignited. And one player, in particular, found himself increasingly drawn to you.
William Nylander hadn't anticipated this turn of events, being entirely focused on his career and having his best season yet. However, as the young Swedish forward observed you carrying out your duties with quiet resolve, he couldn't ignore the growing sense of curiosity that stirred within him. Unlike the typical women he encountered in the hockey world, you possessed a unique charm and allure that captured his attention from the outset.
Your appearance defied convention, blending elements of femininity with a distinctive streetwear tomboy aesthetic. Your slender yet athletic figure, accentuated by your hourglass figure, toned legs, and shapely posterior, intrigued him in a way he hadn't expected.
Your long, untamed curls flowed down your back, framing your face in a halo of natural beauty. And though you opted for minimal makeup, your natural radiance shone through, with thick, dark eyelashes framing your captivating eyes and rosy lips that seemed to beckon him. Yet, it wasn't solely your physical attributes that intrigued him – it was your confident and graceful demeanour, your unapologetic embrace of your individuality.
To William, you represented a refreshing departure from the predictable stereotypes usually found in the hockey world. He found himself drawn to your authenticity, your refusal to conform to societal norms. And as he observed you navigate the challenges of your role with quiet determination, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was far more to you than met the eye.
Yet, amidst his desirable interest, he couldn't help but think of how you might respond to his actions and thoughts. Would you reciprocate his attention, or would you maintain your professional composure, unaware of the impact you had on those around you?
Only time held the answer, but one thing was clear—William was determined to find out. And one day, he resolved to take action and initiate a conversation.
"Hey there, I'm Willy," he introduced himself, flashing his trademark smirk as he encountered you in the physio room shortly after a session where the performance team had discussed nutritious foods and home recipe ideas.
And as you tidied up the materials from the presentation, a soft chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm aware," you replied with a gentle smile.
"You are?" he inquired, a small hint of surprise in his tone.
"Well, of course," you chuckled once more, a mischievous glimmer in your eye as you neatly arranged the papers. "It's part of my job - I'm familiar with all of you, including your current physical condition and medical histories."
William couldn't contain his amusement at your response, his smirk broadening as he let out a soft chuckle. It wasn't often that someone managed to catch him off guard, but there was something about your effortless confidence that intrigued him.
"Ah, so you've been doing your homework on me, eh?" he teased, leaning casually against the nearby equipment rack with a playful glint in his eye.
"You could say that," you retorted with a grin, a touch of mischief flickering in your gaze. "But don't worry, your secrets are safe with me."
William smiled, a sense of warmth enveloping him at your relaxed banter. "Well, in that case, I hope it's all just good stuff," he quipped, flashing you a charming smile, his eyes gleaming with genuine interest.
"Oh, absolutely," you replied, feigning innocence. "Only the finest gossip about your impeccable physique and stellar health habits."
William laughed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Well, I'm relieved to hear I've made such an impression," he joked, his smirk widening as he leaned in a little closer, a newfound sense of connection sparking between you.
And as the conversation flowed, the playful banter between you and William felt effortless, each exchange infused with light-hearted humour and genuine warmth. Despite starting off as acquaintances, it was evident that this spontaneous encounter held the promise of something more, leaving a sense of anticipation lingering in the air like a whisper of exciting possibilities.
_
As the first few months progressed, William couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in dynamics whenever you were present. He observed how other players' demeanours changed, becoming more animated and flirtatious when you entered the room. And despite your apparent obliviousness to their advances, William couldn't shake the twinge of jealousy gnawing at him.
As it was, your responsibilities extended beyond mere observation and monitoring of the players' physical and mental well-being; at times, you were also required to engage with them physically. Whether it involved carrying out a soft massage to their legs or backs, aiding with stretches, or similar activities with the purpose of facilitating their recovery, ensuring the were swiftly back on their feet was part of your role.
And truth be told, when a young, attractive woman like yourself interacted closely with young men, some of whom were not in committed relationships, their minds often wandered. And consequently, comments occasionally slipped out, their mouths moving faster than their rational thoughts.
"You know, you can press harder, I can handle it."
"We could continue this session later, when it's more private."
"Your touch is amazing – it's really doing wonders... anything else you're good at?"
To you, these remarks seemed harmless, playful, and merely part of the camaraderie. You were accustomed to the tone, unaffected by it, and accepted it as part of the team dynamic, which was likely why the management allowed you to work in such close proximity to the players.
However, for William, these comments carried a weightier significance.
For some time now, William had been trying to forge a closer connection with you, seizing any opportunity to get to know you better amidst the limited time available. Yet, despite his efforts, you simply remained a staff member while he was a hockey player under your care. And he wasn't the only one deserving of your attention. Your professional interest extended to all the players, regardless of their role on the team, and it appeared that some others were making rather direct attempts at flirting.
A part of him had hoped for more time to cultivate a deeper bond with you before making a move. However, with each passing day, he felt the pressure mounting as he observed other players finding excuses to engage with you.
Despite his typically relaxed demeanour, the young Swede found himself torn between maintaining his composure and the urge to stake his claim before someone else did. It was an unfamiliar sensation; one he hadn't felt before. Usually, it would be the women vying for his attention. But you were different. You exuded nothing but a sense of calm, confidence, and independence that simply captivated him.
And as he deliberated his options, William realised that he needed to take action, to seize the moment before it slipped away.
_
"And now I walk around without a care
She's got me hooked
It just ain't fair, but I...
I'm love stoned and I could swear
That she knows"
Fortunately for William, an opportunity presented itself one evening, and he was determined not to let it slip by. It was a typical Wednesday training session, with a match scheduled for the following day, and during the ice time, he inadvertently made a small movement, aggravating his existing back injury.
While not severe, the coaching staff still insisted on him being checked before the upcoming game. And luckily, you were still at the facilities, having just finished up a report when he entered the medical treatment room.
"Hey y/n," he greeted softly, walking with a slight crook in his step, the pain from his lower back evident.
"Hey William, what's up?" you asked, noticing his discomfort. "Is everything okay?" you inquired, concern evident in your voice.
"Just call me Willy," he smiled. "But um... yeah, I sort of did something... I mean... Kniesy tackled me, and now I can feel it in my back..." he explained with a light chuckle.
"Well, how about you undress a bit, and then we can take a closer look at it?" you suggested with a sweet smile, to which he simply nodded.
"Usually, I take the girls out before they ask me to strip," he cheekily remarked as he began to undress before you.
Raising a brow, you flashed him a grin and a questioning look. "Do you really?"
This was the type of banter that most of the players appreciated about you. You weren't afraid to push boundaries and test their comfort zones.
"Maybe not," William admitted with a chuckle as he stood in front of you, only the physio table separating you, in nothing but his short shorts before you directed him to lie face down.
"Well, at least you admit it," you replied softly, surprising yourself by engaging in a more personal conversation than usual. "Most guys just act like they couldn't care less."
William was slightly taken aback by your candidness. While you'd shared conversations where you got to know each other better, you hadn't delved into deeper opinions before.
"Why wouldn't I care?" William smiled as he shifted his head to the side, meeting your gaze as you stood beside the table. "I mean, she's still a person, right?"
"I don't know, I'm just saying what most guys do," you replied.
"Well, maybe I'm not like most guys," William retorted, his wink adding to his cheekiness.
His comment took you by surprise, causing you to pause for a moment. Though you hadn't exactly considered any of the players as close friends or thought about them in a romantic way, there was something about this Swede that suddenly had you reconsidering.
Was he flirting with you?
No, you dismissed the thought. You were definitely not his type, or any of the players for that matter. After all, you were just there to help maintain their health so they could perform at their best.
Yet, as you thought about it, you couldn't deny that most of the players were indeed attractive. And given that you'd seen most of them in various stages of undress, you knew what they looked like from head to toe.
And you probably couldn't deny the allure of the players. Each had their own charm – some were sweet and kind, while others were more playful and cheekier. Yet, none of them displayed any meanness or cruelty. Even Reaves, who often projected a rough and tough exterior, revealed a tender side when speaking about his family. In fact, most of the players with families exhibited a similar dichotomy. Despite their tough demeanour on the ice, they were remarkably different behind the scenes.
Then there were the younger players, some single, some in relationships, all equally playful and lacking a certain level of maturity. However, you found their antics amusing and entertaining. Perhaps only Woll, the sweetheart of the team, was less inclined towards playful banter, but lively, nonetheless.
And despite your bit of familiarity with these players on a personal level by now, they remained nothing more than the team you were tasked with caring for and supporting as needed.
So, pushing aside any lingering thoughts, you focused your attention on the player's bare back, beginning to apply pressure to his tender muscles to locate the sore spot.
"How's this?" you inquired in your professional tone.
"It's good, but maybe you need to go a bit lower... that's where the pain is worst," William responded, the cheekiness in his voice fading as he sensed your seriousness.
And as you continued to massage his back, applying pressure to different muscle groups before focusing on his lower back, a few minutes passed.
"Here?" you asked, indicating the area.
William nodded lightly, then hesitated, feeling a twinge of awkwardness as he tried to pinpoint the exact location of his discomfort.
"Uh, yes, but..." he cleared his throat. "Maybe even lower..."
You sensed his slight nervousness, understanding what he was hinting at. Yet, you remained professional, knowing exactly how to address his injury and provide appropriate care.
"Willy, are you referring to your sciatic area?" you asked.
"What's that?" he chuckled.
"Well, it's one of the largest nerves in the body, extending from your lower back down each leg," you explained, smiling even though he couldn't see it.
"Oh, so, uh..." he trailed off, unsure how to ask, and you couldn't help but chuckle lightly, maintaining your professional demeanour.
“It means I'll have to massage your glute - as in your bum. It's one of the largest muscles where the nerve runs behind, but it seems like yours is cramping a little, pressing onto the nerve, which causes the pain."
William understood your explanation, and a smirk crossed his face as he imagined your perspective on his ass at that moment.
"Well, I suppose there's nothing else to do but for you to go ahead," he chuckled lightly.
Sensing his slightly cheeky demeanour once again, you aimed to bring the situation back to a professional tone.
"Willy, it's nothing sensual. And believe me, it's probably a lot more painful than pleasant," you reassured him.
"I think I can handle it," he replied with a cocky smile.
"We'll see about that."
And with his understanding, you went ahead and placed your elbow onto his cheek and started to circle it in order to loosen up the cramp muscle.
“Shit!” William exclaimed as he suddenly felt the pain course through his body.
One thing in particular that you’d become known for amongst the players, was that you were rather strong compared to your size. And you didn’t hold back when you knew that their injuries required force.
“Told you it wasn’t pleasant.” You grinned softly, as you continued to massage his cheek.
And as more minutes went by, William’s deep grunts only grew more incoherent and out of breath. He was nothing but sore, yet as you released your arm from his body, he felt a newfound release washing over him. As if your massage had healing powers, the pain slowly faded into nothing, and he didn’t feel the twinge in his lower back any longer.
“Fuck…” he let out a deep sigh as he caught his breath.
“Need a minute, Nylander?” you mocked playfully and flashed him a grin as your eyes met with his.
“Maybe…” he softly admitted, still a little numb from the intense feeling you had caused him.
“That’s good, that means it’s working.”
You turned around to remove your latex gloves, and as your turned back, William slowly rose and turned to his side to face you, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. Despite the discomfort of the massage, he recognised its necessity and appreciated your expertise.
"Thanks, y/n," he said sincerely, meeting your gaze as you turned back to face him.
"You're welcome, Willy," you replied with a warm smile, appreciating his gratitude.
A moment of silence followed as you both remained still, and the tension of the massage easing away. Then, suddenly, William's expression softened, and he cleared his throat, as if preparing to speak.
"Listen, y/n, I... uh... I just wanted to ask..." he trailed off, his cheeks colouring slightly.
You raised an eyebrow, curious about what he was trying to express. "Yes?" you prompted gently.
But before William could continue, the door to the physio room swung open, and one of the team trainers entered, interrupting the moment.
"Hey, William, everything okay? I heard you were having some trouble with your back," Dean inquired, concern evident in his voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine now, thanks to y/n," William replied, shooting you a grateful look.
Dean nodded, then turned to you with a smile. "Thanks for taking care of him, y/n. We appreciate it."
You nodded in acknowledgment, though you couldn't hide the slight disappointment you felt at the interruption, before he swiftly left the room again. However, William's reassuring smile lifted your spirits, sparking a sense of excitement within you. Perhaps there was more to his earlier words than you had initially thought.
And as William watched you, a surge of determination coursed through him. This was his moment, his opportunity to finally express what had been on his mind for so long. So, with a deep breath, he pushed himself up to sit, his gaze unwavering as he met yours. The lingering soreness in his back served as a reminder of your expertise and the connection they shared.
"So, this is it?" he asked, his voice soft yet filled with anticipation, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his confident facade.
"Well, for now," you replied with a smile. "But we'll need to keep an eye on you to ensure it doesn't happen again like that. Cramps like these often come back." You found yourself unintentionally delving into the details of the injury, your passion for health and well-being shining through. "And, um... it's good to have someone who understands the injury to provide follow-up care," you concluded, realising you had been speaking more than intended. "Sorry, I'm rambling," you added with a sincere smile.
But William simply chuckled softly, finding your passion endearing as you spoke about the injury. He couldn't tear his gaze away from you, captivated by both your expertise and your beauty.
"Anyway, we should probably get back," you suggested softly, your friendly smile causing a flutter in William's heart.
But he didn't want this moment to end, not yet. Summoning his usual confidence, William spoke before he could second-guess himself. "Y/n, do you want to go out with me?" he asked, the words tumbling out faster than he could skate.
You didn't quite catch his words over the echoing noise of the hallways. "Pardon?" you asked, turning to face him, curiosity flickering in your eyes.
Taking a deep breath, William tried again. "I mean, since you've already massaged my ass... I was just thinking... maybe you want to go out with me... sometime?"
His question caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned. Frozen in your position, you struggled to process the unexpected turn of events.
“Willy…” you started, unsure of how to respond. Could you go out with him, a player for the team you worked for? Had you overlooked any contractual restrictions regarding such situations?
Truth be told, you hadn't paid much attention to those details before, as they didn't seem relevant at the time. Yet here you were, faced with an unexpected situation.
As you hesitated, William sensed your uncertainty, a twinge of fear for rejection creeping into his mind. Had he overstepped the boundaries? Perhaps he had misread the signals or been too presumptuous. Chiding himself internally, he realised that charming you and engaging in physical contact were not enough to win your affections. You were different, and he needed to find a way to impress you.
"I mean," he interjected, attempting to ease the tension he had created. "I just know that, uhm, some of the other guys were, you know, thinking about asking you the same... so," he sighed, "Just thought I'd try and beat them to it," he added with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.
Your confusion deepened at his explanation, feeling overwhelmed by the revelation. "Oh... wait, what?" you exclaimed, your mind racing at the thought of other players potentially having similar intentions.
You were baffled. Did the players talk about you when you weren’t there?
"You didn't know?" William looked at you, equally surprised, as his teammates hadn’t exactly been subtle in their flirting.
"Well, do I look like someone who knew?" you quipped, attempting to flash a crooked smile, causing William to simply let out a small laugh.
“Come on, they’ve all been flirting with you!” he chuckled.
“They have?”
“Yeah,” he smiled. “Well, now you know.”
You needed a moment to process it all. As you contemplated how to navigate this unexpected revelation, feeling unable to simply ignore it and return to your usual routine, you gazed at the Swede before you.
“But... why?”
Again, William laughed. “What do you mean why? Come on, y/n – you’re good-looking, funny, smart, and most of all, you don’t seem desperate or starstruck whenever you're around us,” he explained.
“Why would I be that?” you simply asked.
“Well, a lot of girls are, I mean, we’re hockey players,” William grinned confidently.
“Oh wow, please work on that self-confidence of yours,” you rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms. “Seriously, I don’t get why women would just throw themselves at your feet… you’re just… humans.”
“Well, they do,” William laughed again, his confident smirk still in place. “But I guess that’s just what we all like about you... that you don’t...”
“Hmm, I suppose I don’t,” you attempted a smile, still uncertain how to react to it all.
There was another moment of silence as the two of you simply stood before each other, your thoughts still swirling. However, as William hadn’t received a clear response, he let out a soft chuckle and decided to press on.
“So, do you?”
“Huh?” you blinked a few times, slowly returning to reality.
“Do you want to go out with me?” he chuckled once more. “Just for a coffee or something?”
He seemed genuinely serious about this, didn’t he? You thought. As you gazed into his deep ocean blue eyes, you couldn’t ignore the unexpected attraction you suddenly felt towards him. It might have been there for a while, but amidst your own musings, you hadn’t paid it much attention.
“Well, wouldn’t it be inappropriate?” you asked softly, still maintaining your professional demeanour despite the stirrings of emotion within you. But William simply shrugged in response.
“I don’t know… I mean, I guess in a way…” he let out a small sigh. “I just didn’t want to miss the chance, you know, in case you did want to…”
Once again, there was a lingering moment in the air. You couldn’t deny the temptation, given that you were, in fact, single, and had been missing a man’s touch ever since you’d focused so much on your internship. But a part of you felt like it would be wrong.
In a way, you worked for William. You couldn’t go out with him. What if it didn’t go well, and he’d hurt you or vice versa? Then it would just be awkward seeing each other every day. Or what if it went too well, but the management wouldn’t approve of it, and both of you would end up being hurt?
Your thoughts raced at a high speed, causing you to lightly gasp for air. Yet, your train of thoughts was interrupted by the door swinging open again and this time Lou entered.
“Oh hey,” he smiled. “You guys all done in here?”
“Yeah sorry, we just chatted,” William explained casually, as you remained frozen in position. “I better go.”
And as he left the room and Lou started to talk to you, you suddenly felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. Watching William leave with your indirect rejection of his proposal suddenly caused you to feel a sense of unease, perhaps making you realise that there was something more to it all.
Then as you realised you hadn’t heard a single word of what Lou had said, you excused yourself and hurriedly followed the Swedish player.
“Hey, Willy,” you called after him, causing him to halt and turn around. Trying to maintain your composure, you met him halfway and flashed him a sweet smile. “I suppose coffee wouldn’t be too bad,” you spoke softly, earning a smile from the taller player.
“Well then, I guess I’ll buy you a cup whenever there’s time,” he chuckled lightly, feeling a sense of relief.
“I’ll look forward to it,” you said with a soft smile, then turned around and forced yourself to refocus on work.
And as you walked away, William couldn’t help but bite his lip as he thought proudly about being the first to ask you out and your positive response. Finally, he could acknowledge all the emotions he’d been feeling for a while, and perhaps, just perhaps, you felt the same for him.
#my asks#wn88 imagine#william nylander imagine#william nylander x reader#toronto maple leafs imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine
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‘cutie’
— theo nott x reader
summary! in which, the school’s heartthrob and womanizer, seems to have someone who has caught his eye, aka [name] [last name]. a quiet, calm, shy and bright hufflepuff.
— warnings? ; fluff, slight (and i mean SLIGHT) angst.
it started when you had bumped into him, a string of apologies left your throat and there wasn’t any room for him to speak. he was left speechless at how scared you were, and also the way you looked as you whimpered against his glance.
his eyes pierced into yours, a nervous smile expressed onto that cute, frail, face of yours. he couldnt take his eyes off you, feeling the need to smile, and that was enough for you to stop what you were saying.
“i’m so so sorry, please i didn’t mean to—“
“it’s fine, accidents happen, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, principessa.” he said, his tone was soothing, using it as a way to calm you down. his smile never left his face, his eyes softened as he looked at you, never wanting this moment to end.
“oh uh.. thank you..” the girl infront of him meekly said, her eyes moved away from him, having an urge to not make eye contact since it was way too much for her. she had grabbed her stuff, her arms in place as she decided it was best to walk away instead of embarrassing herself further.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹
it was weird, weird how theo had that basic hufflepuff lingering on his mind throughout the whole day, how could he be so smitten with only one interaction?
he always looked around for you, asking around, he even asked his group to look for you. and he made sure everyone knew about his feelings for you, but you were still, so oblivious to his feelings and his actions towards you, thinking he may be playing a joke on you.
So when he had come up to you on your way to your dorm, you had finally had enough and decided to speak up before he could get a word in. deciding this was the best way to finally put an end to all this tomfoolery..
“you know, toying with someone this much is literally embarrassing, i will not fall to my knees just for you to toy with me as you’ve done before, theodore.” i spoke, the tone in my voice stern and showed no sign of playing around, my smile was switched with a frown.
he was shocked, the expression he made had made it clear he was. “w-what? cara mia, i wouldn’t toy with you, i promise. i love you.” his voice solemn and quiet as can be, his eyes shone down and i could catch a glimpse of sadness through them the more i looked at him. he took steps forward, trying to express his true intentions in that moment.
“oh theodore, please don’t play around with me.” i said, my voice meek as i looked at him with a slight smile but still kept my distance as i was still unsure if he was true to his words. but i hope he was, i knew he was, but there was still something keeping me from saying yes.
his hand crept up to my face, slightly touching it as he looked at me first for permission before doing anything. i looked back, my eyes assuring him he could touch me and keep on with his action. his other hand occupied mine as our hands tangled together, his face creeping towards mine.
the moment was quick, but to me it was long, a sweet moment we shared. our lips placed on eachothers, i felt his smooth lips on mine as i kissed him back, trying to deepen the kiss. i didn’t want this moment to end, but it did, sadly.
“awh look who’s so impatient now, my principessa” he grinned at the nickname as he looked back on their first meeting together, her shy, gentleness with that smile that could make just about anybody (him) swoon. he grabbed my hand with his other one, the one that had once occupied my cheek.
he then placed my hand on his fair, soft skin. smiling at the cuteness, i couldn’t contain the way i felt in that moment. merlins how lucky was i? very indeed. he smiled, a cute grin and a flushed expression shown onto his face.
“i love you too, my cutie.” i grinned as i said it, the nickname sticking to him as his eyes rised up at the nickname. his grin growing even bigger now, god he couldn’t contain the love and excitement he felt when that word left your mouth. he hugged you, his arms around your waist as he kissed your cheek.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹
#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#cute#short story#one shot#harry potter#au#x reader#fem reader#lorenzo zurzolo#niccolo govender#hufflepuff#character x reader#character x you#slytherin
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i saw you mentioned that transfem!calliope was practically canon, could you maybe elaborate on that? (im not dissing your hcs btw im just confused on where its suggested in canon)
Hey so it took me a while to get to this just because I wanted to solidify some thoughts about it! Won't go into as much detail wrt my other posts, but we can at the very least start with her handle: uranianUmbra
Uranian is an old-fashioned term, generally used for gay men, though also used in different ways to describe other-gendered people or ways of being, occasionally used as a catch-all similar to how Queer is used today. Its history is complicated and occasionally uncomfortable, as a lot of queer history can be, but notably, one potential root of this idea came from Urning
Now obviously conceptions of gender and sexuality were a lot different then, and I don't want to simplify this, but in Homestuck, it's pretty undeniable that Calliope is a woman stuck in a man's body, and this is likely why Hussie used that very specific word in the first place: to foreshadow the eventual Cherubian Twist.
And not that framing: a woman trapped in a man's body. Cherubs (at least as we are told) have two equal halves who can predominate. But the framing of their entire dynamic makes it very clear that this is Caliborn's body, not Calliope.
Callie's ideal self, in Callie Ohpeee, her Trollsona, is positioned as something to be taken off to reveal her true self. She feels that she needs to conform her exterior to match her interior self, something Caliborn never has to do.
Hell, even as she goes to sleep for the last time, she removes her jacket to reveal Caliborn's shirt underneath. It's his body, not hers.
Not only that, but throughout the story, we see that Callie experiences something close to either dysphoria or body dysmorphia. She hates the way she looks, and affects an especially sweet demeanor in order to not scare people away. She sees herself as a monster because her body becomes the most hideous masculine monster the story has ever known! Literally Lord English.
And shockingly, even though it (in my opinion) handles it poorly, the Epilogues do give us a brief insight into cherub gender, where it basically illuminates that Aranea was kind of talking out of her ass about cherub reproduction, and that Cherubs have no actual biological sex or gender. Meaning that somewhere along the way, Caliborn and Calliope CHOSE their genders, likely influenced by the human and troll internet they were permitted. Callie perhaps forming her own gender in opposition to her brother. This also probably created the ouroboros through which gender became a thing in the first place but thats besides the point. Point is, Callie was likely not a woman until she chose to be a woman. I.e. transgender.
Now the epilogues took it in what I find to be a kind of boring direction, i.e. "well cherubs have no real biological sex so that means I have to be nonbinary now" which is just such a lukewarm take on the imposition of gender but whatever. Point is that Callie is transgender end of story goodnight!!!!!
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The Honey Trap part 2
Note: the idea of sexpionage is wonderful to use in fics, but I want to make it clear that sexpionage is a daunting and grim reality too, and I am very aware of that and do not mean to ignore that. It is a trope I am using, lighthearted, but I do not want to pretend that the actual act of sexpionage is not horrific to many involved. That being said, I will not describe the horrors of it. This is a work of fiction, but created with some knowledge about the real thing.
follow up to part 1.
Warnings: 18+! smut.
Pairing: Modern Spy!Sihtric x Spy!Reader (f)
Summary: You gave Sihtric something in return for some information.
Word count: 1,7k
Masterlist
Chapter 2: the confirmation.
The first night you met Sihtric he truly thought you'd invite him up to your room to have sex, and he was surprised when that didn't happen. In fact, you didn't invite him at all, you simply kissed his cheek and told him to call you before his eyes landed on your buttocks as you walked up the stairs to the hotel entrance. He was as disappointed as he was surprised, and he didn't know that it was just all part of your plan. A plan that still seemed to be very much in motion the next day.
Another lesson taught during your training was to never give your target what they want straight away. You have to slowly lure them in, only giving a little each time. And when Sihtric called you early in the afternoon the next day and asked you out, you knew he had fallen for the trap you had so carefully set up. He seemed to believe the lies you told him, that you were just a girl in a big city looking for a way to make her dreams come true as an actress. You couldn't afford a home yet, so you rented a hotel room at a fixed rate. Your story wasn't uncommon, Sihtric knew, as many girls lived like you in order to chase their dreams before realising it would never happen. Sihtric felt for you in a way, if you were truly one of those girls, but then again… he still didn't exactly trust you, yet you had piqued his interest in multiple ways.
You accepted his invite and met up early in the evening at a fancy restaurant, one that was supposed to be way above your budget and you knew that Sihtric had chosen the place on purpose. It was a man's way of having a certain power over a woman, because he would pay for you and therefore probably thought you'd owe him something in return.
You put on some makeup, never too much as it would risk leaving traces, so you only used a hint of eyeshadow and a red matte lipstick; liquid, so it wouldn't stain. You wore a little black dress that showed off your shape and you carried a matching shoulder bag, which held some cash, a credit card, lipstick, a mirror and a small knife that was lethal enough to kill with.
You had been taught to tune out your emotions, and that is what you did when Sihtric embraced you firmly upon meeting again. He looked handsome, dressed in all black wearing tight fitting jeans and a silky blouse. He had several shiny rings around his fingers and an expensive watch around his wrist, clearly flaunting his dirty richness.
You played the part of being the interested date and, just like that night before, conversation with the stunning man went effortlessly. It seemed that he swallowed every lie you told him with ease again, and soon you found yourself sitting next to him with his arm resting on the back of your chair, his warm fingers lightly caressing your bare shoulder. He leaned in every time he spoke, using his voice again as a way to enchant you, while you used the same tactic on him too. You eventually had dinner together and shared a few drinks as time passed by.
The entire evening you enjoyed each other's company and listened to the lies you told each other, which you both weren't aware of. And regardless of the lies, you both felt that there was a strange sort of connection between you two.
'You know, I was surprised you called me,' you smiled when it was almost midnight.
'How so?' Sihtric asked as he leaned back slightly.
'I thought you only wanted sex, and I didn't give it to you.'
'I didn't just want sex last night,' Sihtric half lied, 'but I wouldn't have declined if you had offered.'
'Well, I'm not that easy,' you said and gave him a playful wink.
'Good,' he said and took a sip of his drink, 'because easy bores me.'
'Then tell me,' you leaned closer, his arm still around your shoulders, 'what excites a man like you?' you asked as you trailed your fingers over his chest.
'I'm also not that easy,' Sihtric laughed, 'you'll have to stick around if you want to know what excites me. But what about you, hm? What excites a lady like you?'
'I guess you'll have to find out too,' you teased.
'I suppose,' he agreed, then decided to subtly pry, 'so, what brought you to that pub? Not many know how to find it, and those who do don't stick around and they definitely don't look like you.'
'I…' you paused, surprised by the sudden question and you tried to gather your thoughts, 'I guess I just… have a thing for bad guys.'
'Bad guys, huh? What makes you think I'm a bad guy?'
'You look like one,' you smiled sweetly, 'all handsome and yet so rugged looking with those scars and your tattoos, while also having a form of mystery around you and clearly, you are very wealthy. I think it's sexy. And I won't lie,' you decided to give him some truth after stroking his ego, 'I am aware of the crowd that goes to that pub. And maybe I like that.'
'So that's what excites you?' Sihtric grinned, 'so-called bad guys?'
'Perhaps,' you shrugged with a sly smile, 'or perhaps… only you excite me.'
'Hm, so then I take it, you know who I work for?'
'I think so,' you played dumb, 'I mean… I think everyone knows the stories about Skade and those who hang out at that pub. But I don't know if they are true or if you actually work for her.'
'Everything you hear about her,' Sihtric said quietly, 'is true. You can take that from me, I know her very well.'
'Gosh, I want to be like her,' another lie spilled easily from your lips as you looked into his eyes, 'she is so powerful and rich. It would be an honour to meet her sometime, but I know that's impossible.'
Sihtric smiled at that and, after you had finished your drink, he invited you over to his luxurious apartment. You knew he was expecting some form of sexual pleasure, and you would give him just enough to keep him interested, but also to reward him for confirming that he indeed worked for Skade and was close to her. And the sexual tension had been there all night, one that seemed almost real, and for the first time in your career you were actually rather excited to please your target.
But as your training had taught you, you knew to keep your distance too in order to not have your own feelings interfere with your job. So you didn't kiss him, no matter how many times Sihtric tried to pull your lips towards his as the elevator took you to his floor. You always subtly rejected him by kissing his jaw or his neck, and you popped the buttons of his dark blouse to trail your lips down to his chest. His hands were all over you as you hooked your fingers around his belt, pulling him with you inside his apartment and pushing him down to sit on his couch, which overlooked the city skyline as his place was located on the 16th floor.
Sihtric sat back and lit a cigarette, completely relaxed with hooded eyes while he watched you unbuckle his leather belt after you had dropped smoothly down to your knees in front of him. Your mouth was practically watering at the thought of giving him a blowjob, and you would make sure it was going to be the best he ever had; meaning you would trap him even further as he'd become addicted to you in a lustful way.
You locked eyes as you unzipped his pants, licking your lips seductively while he helped to lower his boxers just enough to allow his hard cock to jump out. You hummed pleased at the size of him and the way his cock was already glistening with precum; you were to wrap him around your finger so easily, it was almost too good to be true.
Sihtric took a drag of his cigarette while you quickly tied your hair, then worked him first with your hand while using your saliva and tongue to prepare his length to which he smiled almost devilishly, and he spread his arms across the backrest of his couch as he enjoyed the view. You kept your purse nearby, in case your target was to try something and you had to defend yourself, but you couldn't help but feel just as relaxed as he was. Which was a pleasant change in your line of work.
You then wrapped your red lips around his cock, slowly sucking him while using your hand at the same time. You looked up at him as you were down on your knees, and the moment you heard him hiss between his teeth and saw how he threw his head back… you knew your trap had just closed further on him. You bobbed your head up and down, keeping a steady pace that simply made his head spin and soon you felt his hand in your hair. He gradually pushed your head down further as you sucked him, and you tried to relax in order not to gag as you let him fuck your throat.
'Fuck,' Sihtric breathed, then took another drag of his cigarette.
You couldn't help but moan as you felt yourself getting wet while pleasing him. His soft moans increased in volume while you gazed up at him as tears ran down your cheeks, a sight that tipped him over the edge almost as soon as he looked down at you. Not much later you felt and tasted his warm cum as he came in your mouth, and he slowly released his grip on your head.
'Swallow,' Sihtric rasped, 'be a good girl and swallow every fucking drop I give you.'
As you wiped your mouth and tear stained cheeks, you didn't realise that you had walked straight into his trap, for the entire evening Sihtric noticed you did everything according to the sexpionage rules that he had been taught as well. But as it had truly been the best blowjob he had ever received, Sihtric had no problem ignoring the red flags, and so you further trapped each other with sweet honey coated lies…
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#sihtric x reader#sihtric x you#sihtric kjartansson#the last kingdom#tlk#sihtric#sihtric fic#the last kingdom fic#sihtric au#modern!sihtric#tlk au
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Where does this idea come from that the Black brothers are all dramatic and theatric? Regulus writes sad poems and lies on the floor soaking in his teenage tears and sorrow, while Sirius makes up fancy insults and tries to look artistic, entertaining everyone around him.
None of what they did or said is really dramatic or theatrical.
Sometimes their words might sound a bit lofty, but that's because all the Blacks were raised in a family culture that was a bit "elevated". It’s not about them being "naturally" dramatic or theatrical; they’re brought up differently, part of a family culture where honour, dignity, and "knightly" behaviour are more than just empty words. As the saying goes, some are into painting, some into literature, and some into sausages the Malfoys.
So, it's not just personal; it's the upbringing imposed on the Black character. These attitudes don’t just appear out of nowhere; one isn’t born with them, yet all the Blacks (even Narcissa to some extent, and she’s got more guts than Lucius) have them. Honour means different things to them, but it is still honour. They all stay true to their ideals, what’s important to them, they are fearless, not afraid of death, and honest in their actions and thoughts. I think it’s more family than personal.
Both Regulus and Sirius are very focused on the concept of honour, though they see it differently. You could write this on their tombstones:
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one. Take honour from me, and my life is done. Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; In that I live, and for that will I die.
(I’m purposely ignoring whose words these are — it doesn’t matter here)
Regulus "I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more"
And Bella "You should be proud! If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up to the service of the Dark Lord"
And Sirius "I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for..." and "THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS"
It's not about their personal theatricality; it's about how such people see the world. These people view the world through a lens where pride, honour, and dignity aren't just idealistic, they're real and ingrained structures that live within them. It's the morality of knights versus a utilitarian approach, choosing what's right over what's just beneficial.
The independence of the Blacks’ thinking leads to unique outcomes — each person has their own idea of what's "right."
Regulus isn't just a sad boy with poems, forced into a vile organisation, then betraying Voldemort out of immense pity and love for a house-elf. And Sirius isn't just an artistic dancer on the bar with witty insults.
Both Regulus and Sirius have very clear views of what's right and wrong. Sirius is incredibly brave, as is Regulus in his own way — joining the Death Eaters at 16 is brave and dangerous, but if it's the "right" thing to do, it's worth it. And if the "right actions" lead to the destruction of the entire line—well, you know... He writes such a letter believing he is dying with honour, in contrast to Voldemort, a dishonourable being who, indeed, views honour as nothing but an empty word. I believe Voldemort was quite adept at manipulating these notions of "honour" among some purebloods. Voldemort is utterly utilitarian.
The same goes for Sirius — his upbringing and ideals are mistakenly attributed to excessive drama and theatricality, as if he's some clown who deliberately makes up fancy insults and entertains the crowd by dancing on tables. This destroys the essence of Sirius, turning him into an aesthetic leech created for amusement and consumption (of attention, things, pleasures, etc.), and turning everything into an aesthetic object. Consumption and Sirius are completely opposite concepts. Nothing he does is for the Other; there's no theatricality in his actions, no fashion, no aestheticism for the sake of it, no consumption for the sake of consumption. Sirius is a man of Grand Concepts, as is Regulus.
#sirius black#regulus black#the noble and most ancient house of black#sirius black meta#regulus black meta#bellatrix black
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MerShark!Soap x Human!Ghost
Not really following any MerMay prompts, just something I came up with. Also posted on my Twitter
Part 1/???
Ghost oftentimes found himself wandering down to the piers late at night to clear his mind. Open areas, fresh air, clear starry skies; nothing but the wind and the sounds of nature around him to interrupt his thoughts. It was quiet. Simple. Just how he'd liked it to be.
He was alone with his thoughts, mulling over the days work, reworking situations and how he could've done better in arguments. Sometimes he even brought a notebook to write things down, lest he forget them.
He preferred to be alone in his time down at the pier. No one for him to look after and no one to watch him. At least, that's what he thought. Ghost had been sitting down at the pier, shoes and socks off, and pants rolled up to his knees as he let his legs dangle over the edge and in the water; cool waves splashing over his skin.
Everything was how it normally was. Quiet while he was supposedly alone with his thoughts.
Underneath the surface of the water, however, Lie another being. Just far enough down to not be seen as he watched Ghost with curious eyes.
Soap was a curious fellow. He liked to travel, never known to stick in one place for very long as he got bored rather quickly. He wanted to explore, see knew things, meet knew people. But when he came across This large, mysterious human sitting at the pier on his own, Soap wanted to know what he was about.
He never saw the man with friends. Or with anyone for that matter. Did he have friends? Or family, or a partner? Soap wanted to know about him.
All throughout his travels, only one thing stood consistent. One thing everyone told him. Stay away from the humans. "They're dangerous creatures who'll hunt you for sport and kill you for fun." His Ma told him as such when he was young.
Not wanting to worry her, he kept his distance. Diving away from boats, keeping away from divers. He never found himself drawn to them like he did with everything else. That is... Until he'd seen Ghost.
The man intrigued him like nothing he'd ever seen before. He felt a sort of... Pull to him. His mother's words stayed in the back of his mind as he continued to watch this man. Every night like clockwork, he arrived, took off his shoes, and dropped his feet in the water.
He stayed for hours alone before the sun started to rise. Then he'd get up and leave. Sometimes he'd stay awake, other times he'd fall asleep on the pier.
It wasn't until a couple weeks of watching that soap started getting bolder. Swimming closer, yet still hidden. Another few weeks and he made himself comfy under the pier where he could go past the surface without being seen.
There were times where during the day soap would collect small items and trinkets he finds, setting them up on the pier before the man arrives, leaving then for him to find.
Ghost thought it was strange how random items would find their way into the wooden boardwalk every once in a while. Nothing significant enough to make any sort of pattern that'd indicate who they belonged to. Only that when he found them, they were all soaked, as if they'd been pulled out the water.
Most of the items were small, insignificant. Random jewelry pieces, broken, waterlogged phones, trash that were thrown away, probably from a cruise ship or sail boat. Ghost sifted through these piles, picked out what he thought would be nice to keep and left the rest. No one would come looking for them, right?
Each time there were different items.
He'd started taking note of the different items, joked to himself that he had some sort of secret admirer. Little did he know how true such a thing was..
- TBC -
#cod mw2#mw2#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soapghost#ghoap#ghoap au#mermay 2024#mershark#writing#mlm
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i was bored, and i just rewatched the first twilight movie on disney plus. i was itching to write something, and this is the abomination that came forth
T.N. | Twilight
edward!theodore nott x bella!reader
warnings; bestie, its twilight..... its so fucking unserious......
word count: 1.2k
“You need to see what I look like in the sunlight.”
You don’t even have time to comprehend his words, spoken in that truly maddening accent, before Theo’s frigid hand wraps around your arm, pulling you harshly towards him. In a blur, you find your thighs wrapped around his waist, and your fingers painfully dig into his shoulders. Your nails seem to rake across the abnormally hard skin, but Theo doesn’t seem to notice, a large stride making the wind billow your hair back.
In a knee-jerk response, your legs loop around him, and your hands scramble to fist his jacket, face pressed into his shoulder as he speeds up, weightlessly, up the side of the mountain. You even feel the wind of trees passing way too close for comfort to you, along with every measured, small breath he takes.
And then, just as fast as it started, it stops, your feet meeting the ground with undeniable force. You stumble, hands flying out in a windmill to balance you, and a palm cushions your side before you manage to crack against a massive boulder covered in moss. You shake your head slightly, trying to clear the dizziness away, and blink as you watch Theo step away.
His wide back is to you, and you watch a stray beam of sunlight filter through the trees, unforgiving in its relentless piercing of the canopy.
Theo swiftly pulls off his jumper, letting the fashionable cream tie around his waist as his hands start to unbutton the saxe blue shirt hugging his frame. “This is why we don’t show ourselves in sunlight. People would know we’re different.”
Your breathing has managed to return to normal, and you find your eyes glued to his frame while you ever so slightly push off the boulder, palm soaking quickly in the wet moss. It’s cold and icky against your skin, but you don’t pay it much mind as Theo starts to slowly turn around, step by step.
It’s gorgeous. His skin, dazzling more than a diamond. It looks like every pore, every line and angle and plain of his skin is bejewelled, sparkling away like a hundred silver flames. It glitters around his face, that white gold sheen making his already pale skin seem to glisten like a snowy flame, like a white star. The encrusting shimmer spreads down his chest, smooth, perfect skin untainted to your eyes, no bruise or scar visible, even in the sunlight.
Theo seems to take a deep breath, and then swallows thickly, his gaze falling to the ground before coming back up to you, “This is what I am.”
You’re honestly at loss for words. You’ve never seen anything like it before, not in any literature, movie or painting. It’s a new kind of beauty, yet undeniably the type that catches your attention and keeps it, your pupils trained on every glimmering sparkle.
He seems to be waiting for a reaction though, if his dark, heavy gaze is anything to go by, and you rouse yourself, first thought tumbling from your lips without much thought.
“It’s like diamonds.”
His lips press into a line, and he swallows again, eyes scanning across your face like he’s trying to read you; you know he can’t crack open the book of your mind, that he can’t run his wintry fingers along the pages of your thoughts and ideas.
“You’re beautiful.” Your voice is no more than a breathy whisper, but it’s true. He’s gorgeous, like a statue carved from melted stardust, every chip of the material perfect and ideal.
“Beautiful?” Theo scoffs a laugh, his head falling back as he chuckles, humourlessly. His dead, morose eyes seem to deny your words like nothing else. “This is the skin of a killer, Y/N.”
He turns away sharply, the golden-crusted stretches of skin hidden from your eyes once more as he rather violently moves away, sharp and jaggy with his movements, even within the inherited elegance.
You scramble to follow him, hopping over the low rocky ledge as you delve deeper into the forest, following his saxe shirt and broad shoulders. He obviously knows you’re following, but his eyes drag over his shoulder to lock with yours, self-loathing hammered into the lines of his golden irises.
“I’m a killer.” He announces, tone cold and desolate, not allowing any argument.
And yet you still try. “I don’t believe that.”
Despite his heavy gaze, and the obvious importance of the situation, your feet scramble and trip over the thick roots of a tree you follow him past, hands scrabbling to uphold you against the bark.
“It’s because you believe the lie.” He scoffs, an Italian swear word dripping like poison gold off his tongue. “It’s camouflage.”
There’s a dark pause, only filled with the crinkle of green leaves and your soft breath.
“I’m the world’s most dangerous predator. Everything about me invites you in.” Theo’s voice drops low, horrified, like he’s disgusted with who he is and the fact that despite everything, you’re standing in front of him. “My voice. My face. Even my smell. As if I would need any of that.”
If you weren’t hanging off his every word, eyes stitched to his face, you may have mistaken the next sound as a soft laugh when he turns away. You blink, and suddenly, he’s gone.
There’s the sound of a thump behind you, and you whirl around, stumbling as your palm steadies you against a soggy tree. Theo’s crouched on a rocky outcrop, a few metres higher, and his shoulders strain with tension as he glares at you, seething.
“As if you could outrun me!”
You huff a breath, and just barely manage to catch the blur of him as he jumps off the outcrop, speeding off in a whirl.
You twist, only just keeping up with him, and blink to find his face just a bit further from yours, his eyes wide and furious as he almost disbelievingly says, “As if you could fight me off.”
His large palm hooks around the root of the tree, and he rips it out, twisting in the same fluid movement to send it crashing into the branches of another. The wet wood creaks and groans, leaves shuddering to the ground as the root shatters.
Your gaze snaps back up to his, your heart starting to hammer like crazy once more when his eyes, so cruelly beautiful, lock with yours once more.
“I’m designed to kill.” He whispers, his accent heavier, hotter, like the prevalent heat of summer. His lids droop, and you swallow, shaking your head softly.
“I don’t care.” Your voice is just a smidge louder than his, and he looks away, disappointment clear in his features.
“I’ve killed people before.” He admits, as if that’s supposed to scare you off.
“It doesn’t matter.” You offer, taking him in as a whole as he stands there, clearly agitated yet so put together.
“I wanted to kill you.” The confession is breathed into the air, the meaning of it falling thick on you, like a smothering blanket of shock. You blink, once, twice, and then grin.
“Do it, no balls.” Your voice challenges, ringing sharp and clear through the woods.
He clearly needs no more encouragement.
idk wtf this is
#marcie shitposts ✭˖*°࿐#marcie writes ✭˖*°࿐#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#wtaf#idk what this is#i need to go to sleep icl#so cute#my brain is melting out my ears
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Obsessed with your Challengers takes! I just saw it last night and I can’t stop thinking about it. If it’s even possible, how do you think Tashi feels about Art ? I agree with your take that she wouldn’t marry him and have a child with him if she like hated his guts but I feel the movie left a lot ambiguous (which I liked but I’m also curious). Idk if I worded that right, sorry if it’s incomprehensible
Also side note but YES @ fandom’s clear racism and trying to push Tashi to the side to prop up Art/Patrick. Tale as old as time, unfortunately
I've fully descended into the brain rot it's so bad for me.
I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON TASHI'S FEELINGS ABOUT ART. I've written about it and have talked about it a lot on here but for the record, I do think her feelings for Art change. I've noticed a lot in general discourse around the movie that people either fixate on their very beginning, on Stanford, on Atlanta, or on the final match. Which the movie is nonlinear, I can get why people get confused or fixate on one event for how we view these characters but???
People change. These characters change and I think that multiple things can be true at once.
Speaking specifically to Tashi and her feelings, she liked both of them when she met them. She clearly saw SOMETHING going on between the two of them, SAW that there was some unresolved feelings and like an eighteen-year old wanting to have some messy fun, said she'd go out with whoever won. What Tashi loves more than anything is tennis and so for her vision for herself, esp at eighteen, was to have THAT. Patrick won the match and I think again, she liked them both. It wasn't a consolation prize, it's a win all the way down no matter what.
After her accident, after a few years pass, when she sees Art again? Tashi is notably subdued. Still her, still focused (almost resigned), but I simply cannot and refuse to believe the narrative that Tashi settled or found a connection to tennis by dating Art. She was ALREADY back in tennis, with someone who was GOOD. We don't actually know where she dated Art or became his coach first, and I think that's intentional! It's up to interpretation! It's just fascinating to me that everyone immediately defaulted to thinking it was coaching rather than dating him, ESPECIALLY since again, when she was eighteen she was interested in Art too. She kissed him BACK.
Atlanta to me is more complicated, and leads to what she's feeling towards the end. I will fight on the hill that Tashi hooking up with Patrick in Atlanta wasn't due to cold feet or questioning her place with Art, but mostly devoted to the fact that we as viewers literally see her be made aware again of that racist bitch Mueller making it to Wimbledon with a commentator saying that she doesn't have any competition. That should've been her and I don't think it's an accident that literally SECOND after Tashi hears that and takes a drink, she sees Patrick - of whom she had a connection to that old version of herself. Patrick, who hadn't seen her recover and become a coach to like she was with Art. Patrick, who she still liked. Tashi is 23ish by this time and I won't make excuses for her for cheating. But I get it. I get her headspace. And to me, it has nothing to do with dissatisfaction or not loving Art and everything to do with herself. Tashi is many things and selfish is absolutely one of them.
By the end, I think it would be delusional to say that she isn't feeling dissatisfied, for any number of reasons. I still DO think she loves Art, even at the end, because of how she approaches every conversation with Patrick then. BEFORE fucking him, she says that she will "if that's what it takes" to make sure that Patrick throws the game. Literally SECONDS after they finish, in post-coital bliss, Tashi's first words are about Art. It can be argued that it's because of the game and I could see (if it were percentage) how that could be configured. I just personally don't read it that way; I'm not saying tennis isn't involved, but I think it's just as obtuse to argue that her feelings for Art are also not involved.
tl;dr Tashi is so fucking interesting and I'm beyond annoyed that fandom by and large does not give a shit about her aside from being an object of affection or to fuck for those two little white boys.
#seek speaks#challengers#challengers spoilers#challengers movie#tashi duncan#tashi donaldson#art donaldson#patrick zweig
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I really liked reading your thoughts on hypmic and gender roles!! I would like to add some things about hypmic & female characters :]
I like the way Otome is meant to have a delicate (?) image, but it doesn't make her weak (I remember when her solo Just do it released and people talked about how before they had this idea that Otome was more like ruler who gives orders to her soldiers in the background, but after the song it was clear that Otome is actually in the front lines, leading her army)
And Ichijiku, who is sometimes cruel, with this strong image, this is framed not as a good thing, but a front she puts up to cope with her suffering (not that it's wrong for a woman to have traits usually associated with masculinity, but it's bad when you are doing it for the sake of looking "stronger", someone is not weaker for being feminine, as it seems to be something she internalized for herself/she doesn't seem to project that into others so it's just an unhealthy coping mechanism that hurts only herself), we can see from the drama tracks that before traumatic events her voice was much more high pitched (her natural one), and now she uses this lower, stronger tone, to not be perceived as weak (which I think kinda parallels Ramuda speaking in a higher pitch when his natural tone is lower). Basically a lot of the times when trying to write strong women, authors will take away their feminity from the idea that "you need to be masculine to be strong", that wouldn't apply to any of our female cast, even to Ichijiku who does put up a front to not be seem as weak, this is not a good thing & she still has hobbies/likes things usually associated with feminity (but as an exemple of masculine women also being treated well, we have Asunaro Bojo, she is a tomboy but that's not bad at all!!! Good for her, and there is also Iris from rhyme anima, that I could say is not particularly fem??? Also good for her and her cool motorbike)
And Honobono, I think it's really interesting that, in a society that demonizes feminity, she uses that on her favor, her feminity being her main weapon. Also I like her existence as a contraposition to Hypmic's main themes about bonds/relying on others, the power of words to resolve conflict as an alternative to violence / she wants to break bonds, uses her words as a way to do that, showing how powerful words can be when used for evil
As for them making bad decisions, I agree there were times when it was for the sake of plot moving, I also think some decisions are due to them being flawed characters, just like the rest of the cast is (Otome is impulsive and has a very "now or never" mindset, but so does Dice, Ichijiku blindly follows Otome even on her worst decisions, but that's because of her trauma and it's something she has to work on changing, etc)
And I do think a shifting is happening btw them being antagonistic side characters to them being integrated as part of the main cast in recent times!! That being said I'm very excited for the upcoming stage play focused on the girls only & with 2 new original women, I will love to see what they have ready for them
Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts!
I totally agree with your opinion about Otome. Her "coldness" (like, personality-wise) is a good contrast to Ichijiku's hot temper, but neither are in any way weak or frail. And as you point out with Ichijku, this too seems like her way of pushing away her own feelings in order to process them better. (True gender equality is everyone failing to process emotions in a healthy way? lol)
I also get what you mean about Ichijiku and writing strong female characters. (I'm immediately reminded of this comic. In terms of concept art, Ichijiku could fit right in with them lol.) She's an interesting example of a trope I see a lot. In Japanese, it feels like "cute" (可愛い) and "beautiful" (綺麗) exist as two opposite ends of a spectrum, where the latter is associated with maturity and elegance and the former with youth and innocence. Fictional taller girls or girls with more developed bodies often lament that they're pushed into the "beautiful" role even when they identify more strongly with being "cute." On the flipside, shorter girls sometimes wish that they could be taken more seriously if they were closer to the "beautiful" side of the spectrum. Ichijiku is pretty firmly in the "beautiful" camp but seems to desire "cuteness" (see how she reacts to tea parties with Nemu, who is more stereotypically "cute", and cultivates a hairbow collection). Yet she reacts with embarrassment when anything "cute" is brought up, likely because she recognizes she won't be viewed with as much authority if she presents herself in a "cute" fashion. That ties into what you're talking about with the pitch of her voice and her desire to appear strong. It's funny how there are expected societal roles ("cute"/"beautiful") nested within larger expected societal roles (womanhood). If all the female characters were like Ichijku, I'd be a lot more "eh :/" about Hypmic, but as you say, there's a wide variety of presentations, none of which are presented as "weaker" or more invalid. Like Nemu--she's definitely a "cute" character but is written to have an enormous amount of emotional strength following her decision to join Chuuouku. This suggests, then, that Ichijiku is incorrect in thinking she can't be strong and "cute." Likewise, the female characters as a whole can be strong and feminine or strong and more masculine-presenting. It'd be fun to see more female characters who lean into the latter (I'm not going to pretend that Hypmic is bursting with canonical masc female characters) but that seems a bit more progressive than Hypmic is willing to go. If it's still at the stage of "femininity != bad"... I'll take what I can get, haha.
I love everything you said about Honobono!
And I also agree that some flawed decisions Otome and Ichijiku make are due to them being ordinary, flawed individuals. Which is a good, humanizing writing choice! When I said that in the original post, I was referring to the sort of decisions that exist purely to set up the main conceit of Hypmic. The "Hmm yes I think I shall spend our man!tax dollars on constructing a huge, expensive stadium as a trial run for a future government-sponsored sport. Let's kidnap two children in order to convince one of the trial participants to rap against his friend, which is the most effective way to prevent a coup" kind of decisions. Team Rocket-ass decisions. I'm not knocking this concept as a whole, because goofy villainy and contrived plots can be fun. Even in semi-serious works, there can still be a place for contrived plot nonsense; the audience is capable of suspending disbelief when the silliness is not the main object in focus. But when we're later asked to examine some of Otome's decisions and thought processes in a more realistic and sympathetic light, I have trouble reconciling the two concepts in my head. In my opinion, Otome can either be the shadowy figure behind the Team Rocket desk or a real person with complex thoughts and feelings, but asking her to be both is not a great writing choice.
Finally, I can't wait for the stage plays either. I hope I get a chance to check them out! The Hypstages are always super, super fun.
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teacher
“Sir.” The word was clipped and formal. “Your son is doing just fine in his classes. We called Robyn’s father in, not you.”
Dream took a deep breath in, silently, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. So, this was how the math teacher was going to play it. Well, there was a reason he was here and Hob was not, and it was purely because he was much better at the kind of political posturing that would actually get this sort of teacher to back down.
Robyn’s accommodations were not being respected in his math class. And that…well. Dream, certainly considered that a problem.
“Odd. I know for a fact we updated both Orpheus’s gender markers and my marital status with the school–the secretary was grumbling about it, but accommodating. My child is not a boy, ergo, not my son. But Robyn, by marriage, very much is.”
Mrs. Smith blinked a bit at that, but carried on. “Very well. If Mr. Gadling could not be bothered to attend this meeting, this will have to do.”
Dream interrupted once more. “You did not ask for a time to schedule this meeting. If you had, you would have known that there was no possible way for Mr. Aeturnus-Gadling to make this meeting, as he had already committed himself to his undergraduate students. But you never reached out to us, you merely sent Robyn home with a note saying we were to meet you at this time.” He maintained a level tone, staring just below her eye line. This promised to be a long meeting, and a frustrating one, and he was certain he would have to make true eye contact with her later. Best approximate it for now. “But no matter. This, as you say, will do. I expect you are going to explain why Robyn was not allowed extra time on his test. Or extended due dates on his homework.”
“Those sorts of things just don’t happen in my classroom, Mr. Aeturnus.” She pronounced his name Atturnis, as though he hadn’t corrected her during the parent-teacher conferences at the beginning of the year. And she ignored the second half of his name entirely. “See, I don’t think Robyn actually needs any of it. He’s a very smart boy, and if you give him excuses to be lazy and disorganized, he’s never going to learn.”
“He has a documented learning disability. Intelligence has nothing to do with it. We have provided all the information needed, it is now your legal responsibility to honor his accommodations. If you continue to refuse, I will be taking this matter over your head.”
“Principal Latimer supports his teachers against bully parents.”
He was the bully? For ensuring Robyn got what he needed? Oh, that was rich, indeed. He shifted his glance so he was making eye contact with her, maintaining it in silence. As the moment stretched on, she clearly began to feel the weight of his unflinching gaze, because she started shifting in her seat. He kept staring for another few moments, then broke the silence. “Principal Latimer will be part of my complaint to the school board, as well, then. If anyone is being the bully in this situation, it is you.”
Well. Maybe this wasn’t going to be that long of a meeting after all. Mention of the school board seemed to shut her up rather quickly. “Robyn will not be serving that ridiculous detention for homework that he was able to turn in the very next class. If any action is taken against him, or if his accommodations are not honored going forward, you will be hearing from me.”
She paled and nodded, a clear dismissal.
Dream glided out of the room, hiding his smirk until he was out of Mrs. Smith’s line of vision. Hob would love hearing this.
@domaystic
crossposted to AO3
#tw ableism#dreamling#dream of the endless#robyn gadling#domaystic2024#slice of life#dream getting assertive for Robyn's sake is <3#Hob is very much gonna reward him when he hears about this
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It's aplatonic visibility day, so here's a rant I've had in me for a while. If you're not aware, aplatonic means I do not feel platonic attraction/platonic feelings/platonic connection.
Platonic is not a synonym for non-romantic. I understand why you all like to emphasize how Supernatural lifts a non-romantic relationship to the same level, if not higher, than romantic ones. That is indeed a unique and special thing. We should point that out for both ship and non-ship reasons. However. Platonic is not the word to use. Platonic specifically relationship between friends. Generally, platonic means the people involved aren't family. Platonic bonds are a very specific thing, not just the absence of romance.
I understand that this doesn't matter to a lot of you, but to me? I do not feel romantic feelings. I do not feel platonic feelings. I do feel familial feelings. There is a reason I have fallen so deeply into this show, and that reason is that early seasons Sam and Dean do not have friends. The relationship is exclusively familial (and sexual if you read it that way) and those are the two types of attraction I do have.
To be clear this is also not to throw any shade on the idea that Sam and Dean are in a QPR because that's just true. I just think we in the aspec community could stand to come up with a broader term for non-normative relationships that does not include the word platonic. As we currently stand, that does not exist, so yeah, QPR is a totally valid and correct and fine term to use and I don't have any problem with it.
But yeah. Platonic ≠ non-romantic, and I think just about any reading of Sam and Dean makes it obvious that they are not friends. They are brothers. They are potentially more. But they are not platonic.
Thank you from your local aplatonic wincestie, and I encourage you to read more about aplatonicism!
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Verisimilitude (long thoughts about writing)
Sometimes I get mailed random books to consider for course adoption. The first one I looked at the other day was so incredibly bad I could not make it past page 12--"oh my god I hate books" bad; "trees were wasted on this!!" bad. And then there's this one. I've made it to page 30-something and I could have told you 20 pages ago that Oliver Twist it would remain, but I am still reading it to read it, and maybe keep it to recommend extracurricularly. (The protagonist Alva is a weeb for American culture, whatever the word is for that, which I think could make for interesting study!) But that's all context to say,
AH YES THE INTERNET RABBIT HOLE OF NARUTO FAN FICTION, HENTAILORD. WE'VE ALL BEEN THERE.
SO...
BLEACH MENTION WHEN????
Based on the style of her screen name, the Naruto porn, and her listening to My Chemical Romance and Linkin Park, this girl is definitely living her teenage life in the mid-00s, in ways that are searingly obvious. Which feels like it should be a massive success in terms of using verisimilitude to pinpoint a particular time and place and, by extension, person. But I don't think it does?
In thinking about why this doesn't work for me as a reader:
1. As a general rule, I tend not to enjoy "fandom" subculture references like this in fiction, because they have never felt true to my experience of fandom, or even my experience of others' experiences of fandom. The specificity is there but not the verisimilitude. Whether this is because of an inability to articulate the breath of life that animates fandom spaces, or a feeling of needing to at least kind of translate it for the uninitiated general audience, I don't know. Not that Alva's narrative goes far enough to merit this discussion; she's just reading Naruto porn for one sentence, but it just doesn't land right for me. (Sidebar, this is probably also why I don't enjoy acafandom or fandom essays that aspire to acafandom; there's usually this attempted, manufactured critical/"objective" distance from the text that often feels performative, or at least the wrong [or less interesting] tool for the job. And even where 'in-group' positionality is addressed, the translation required to make these things legible to the out-group is just--well, not what I want in life, I guess!)
2. I am a great believer in drawing greatly from what you know and feel and all those random thoughts and behaviors and emotions and tics that make life interesting, and giving them to fiction. In fanfic especially, I am a great believer in seeing the author's hands in a text, making the story (and the original canon) unmistakably theirs. But I kind of always want them to be hands that are in the act of giving. By which I mean, I think there's a difference between all these things existing in a story and having been given to a character or a world or a story, and integrated genuinely into them.
Like, all I can think about while reading this book is how the author definitely lived through the mid-00s in a particular and very familiar way. Rather than create a richly immersive world, the details jump out of the page and leave the story behind. They don't feel like they belong to Alva (or perhaps Alva does not feel like a character with the depth to hold them and make them hers). They belong do the author, and to me, and to history, but Alva falls out of the equation. And if this is going to work, I feel like Alva can't fall out of the equation.
3. I was talking to a friend about something similar a few months ago. She was complaining about a historical fiction book she was reading with a book club she leads at the library she works at--how it was clearly very well-researched, but dry as hell. The information was not animated by the story itself. And I compared it to a fanfic I'd (not) read, where the author was very proud of all the research they'd done and how accurate-to-life its setting was. (To be clear, I'm not subtweeting Bleach fandom. Completely different fandom! Also this fanfic was published like 16 years ago.) The fic did bring in lots of specific details about trees and highways and city names--things I knew well, too, because it was set where my sister lives--but rather than be as exciting and, again, rich, as I feel like that familiarity could have been, it all felt dead. Because all these things were described specifically, but not true to how the narrating characters would describe them, or mentally catalogue them, or experience them.
And you might think, well, how would we possibly know how a character thinks about highways? It's not like he's explained this in canon. And I'd say, well, you definitely can. There are probably a lot of different ways a character could plausibly think about highways, depending on the specific shade and flavor of your characterization of them, all equally believable; but it's got to be part of the equation. There are a lot of ways to be right, and you know it when it's wrong. The wrong-est way it can be is for the way they think about highways to not factor into the way those dang highways are being described by them, in their POV.
4. I think about this both as a reader and as a writer--certainly more often as a writer, because I find that level of imagining a character's headspace the VERY best part of the process, and also because I am often concerned I am not doing it, or at least not well, lol. I'm positive I've done all the things I've just talked about not enjoying.
These concerns exist at the level of characterization work in general, but also at that level of, is the wizard behind the green curtain? Are his hands giving? Because while I do write fanfic because "it is fun" and because "this idea interests me," I am also usually writing it to work through deeply personal emotions/experiences. Which again, perhaps selfishly, I support that. But from a craft perspective I don't want it to feel, transparently, like "oh lol this author is going through it."
Moreover, from a relational perspective, I don't want that to be the relationship between me as author and the characters. Because one thing I am ALWAYS writing fanfic to do is to indulge my feelings about how much I am in complete, rapturous love with the characters and worlds in question. I don't want to just place things upon them, like a film or shroud; I want them to be given, integrated, arriving in the text wholly in their bodies and in their minds and entirely theirs. And I mean this for both the emotional arcs and conflicts and the random tics and details. I want them to have been given, and to belong, and to feel completely and inextricably theirs.
So, those are my thoughts about mid-00s Naruto porn!!!
I'd love to hear others' perspectives, as readers or writers or both. Have you had similar reactions, or quite different? Why do you write, and what do you want? What's your template for how you think about characterization, or your writerly relationship to canon/characters?
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Where did the idea that Steve didn't know what a lesbian was before Robin come from?? Like, his "but Tammy Thompson's a girl?" comment is pretty clearly coming from a place of ingrained heterosexism, not him being unaware that it's possible for women to be attracted to other women. (As evidenced by him saying "Oh." once he puts the pieces together and not asking any follow up questions.) (And also by him literally accusing Jonathan of being queer in season one which admittedly is a moment that I can understand people forgetting/wanting to forget, but like. It happened.)
#i have now seen this idea twice in the past couole days#and it baffles me#the whole reason robin is scared to come out is because she (correctly) assumes he DOES know what a lesbian is#and Steve makes the active decision to respond in a way that makes clear he accepts Robin#in a way that makes clear it's true and not just words#I just???
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why the fuck did i write about birds this fucking sucks. i just found out birds only sleep for a few minutes at a time, hundreds of times a day. do you know what this is going to do to my structure? the logistics of their road trip? this is already like three days late and i've been fighting for my life to get A Plot Like Any Plot That Makes Sense out and now the birds fucking sleep for 5 minutes at a time.
#i should've just bailed and written another story when i had the chance#i'm not joking i've never fought a fiction piece this hard before. usually because i'm not writing for specific deadlines#and not a piece so big. and not one that's gonna be workshopped. i wanna blow them away but if things keep going the way they are everyone'#gonna tell me the pacing sucks and it feels pointless and the characters feel really confused. I KNOW. I KNOW THAT. FUCKK#i'm the type to do about 15 passes before i let someone see my 'first draft' and i'm just not gonna be able to do that if i want to get it#in time for a workshop. every day i delay is making things harder for my classmates y'know?? but i've been writing like 1k words a day#and it's still not done. GUHH#I DON'T LIKE WRITING THESE CHARACTERS THAT MUCH THEY'RE NOT FUNNY OR ENDEARING AND THAT'S MY LIKE.#MAIN SKILL AND VIBE WITH SHORT STORY DUOS. BUT NOOOO I HAD TO MAKE THEM DIFFERENT CUZ I WAS SICK OF DOING#THE SAME DYNAMIC OVER AND OVER. BITCH THIS IS YOUR FINAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TRIED AND TRUE GETS THE BLUE (RIBBON)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#head in my hands head in my hands head in my hands head in my hands head#going to work on it some more. fuckk#the voices aren't consistent and i'm trying to make it clear that this is toxic bird yuri and not a mother/daughter thing but the maternal#themes are kind of fucking with that but they're important and i don't wanna get rid of them but it feels forced cuz im forcing it#sigh. i'm gonna have to cut the yuri. these two don't work romantically at all. what a waste of time.#i watched the entirety of mnthly girls' nozaki-kun in the past two days while avoiding writing. did you know that? the lengths to which i'l#go? anyway it was fun i appreciate fellow creative agony and i uh never knew how they did screen tones and wasn't expecting that somehow#so i learned something new (hooray). anyway back to. fucking. bird story stuff#i'm so mad i hate these two (<- lying. just pissy) i hate this story (<- mostly exaggerating. throwing a tantrum)#eughhhhhh i just wanna lie on the floor and cryyyyyyyyyy (<- completely deadpan irl. not That upset just kind of sick of shit)#i'm so burnt out and it's only gonna get worse. ughh#why can't someone just come in and write it for meeeeeeeeeeheheuhhh (<- would hate that)
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