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n7punk · 1 year

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"As Many Lives As It Takes (To Be With You)" Fic Notes

After talking shit and increasing the chapter count like five times, AMLAIT is finally done at 13/5 chapters. You can maybe guess there’s a lot going on in these fic notes.

No playlist this time, I didn’t make one assuming it would be a quick fic and just listened to random shit, or watched baking videos, or put in earbuds and listened to silence when I had migraines.

Epilogue life:

So I pretty much put what would be this section in the fic’s actual epilogue, but Catra and Adora end up staying in the apartment for a while. After a couple months of living with a third wheel (who is more like the primary wheel they are tricycling considering who owns the place), it starts cramping on their couple moments. Adora gently prods Catra about the idea of getting their own place, which is an idea that takes several weeks to sink in before she’s willing to explore venturing beyond her safety bubble, but everything changed once and the world didn’t end, so she eventually decides she’s ready. Catra finally leaves that small room after four years. As scary as it is, it feels like the ultimate measure of her growth.

After a few years they move to the outskirts of Bright Moon when Adora switches hospitals, giving them a bit more air and the “best of both worlds” when it comes to being in the city but having a bit more of the freedom/relaxation from their childhood town back. They’re also closer to Thaymor which makes visiting a little easier, and closer to Glimbow and Scorfuma specifically, though they’re farther from some of their other friends.

They both learn to maintain their best friendships even not living together and they regularly visit Adora’s parents, though they never tell anyone else about Catra’s ability. Netossa seems like she suspects something at times, but she never directly implies or asks something, and whatever she suspects certainly couldn’t be the truth.

Chapter 1:

⦁ If you were expecting me to have ever forgotten that tweet ND made about Catra going through all nine of her lives over the course of She-ra and Adora healing her to reset them, then you’re wrong. In a way, this entire AU is ND’s fault. Did you think about that. I have No Responsibility for this.

⦁ Entrapta’s “nerd merchandise” is a premier ball from pokemon because for some reason that was the only thing I could picture for it. It’s not even a regular pokeball I don’t know why!! But that’s what they use.

⦁ Catra technically has binocular vision dysfunction in this due to her right eye being a little out of sync from her left.

⦁ Time paradox is, of course, a portal reference.

⦁ Entrapta’s blanket used to fall off her lap when she was working, which is how it ended up under the table the first few times, and then she noticed Catra balling up there and started leaving it there on purpose, even washing and rearranging it.

⦁ Entrapta’s room is always hot because of the equipment in it and the heat output from her computer and stuff. Luckily, all three occupants of the apartment like it when it’s warm.

Chapter 2:

⦁ Catra watching ice melt is a Booker reference. I love you Booker. But also a euphemism like “watching paint dry,” “watching grass grow,” etc.

⦁ The nightmares weren’t in the initial concept for the fic, but Entrapta helping Catra out with her “condition” was and I found they were a good way to showcase the backstory without actually showing flashbacks or having an entire prologue chapter of trauma after trauma that just would have felt miserable and spoiled everything.

⦁ Catra’s job isn’t necessarily real but is also heavily based on real things. Basically universities sometimes have special collections, archives, etc that are typically “open” during regular work hours, but only by appointment. They might have their own staff or just the librarians see to them. For this fic I basically made up something that might be real, where BMU also allows appointments after hours, but only from grad students, and then professors can come in after hours (or during hours) without appointment as long as there’s staff present. And of course they get away with that by hiring someone cheap so it doesn’t cost them a lot extra to keep it open. Catra has been paid more by other jobs, but she likes this one way better, and she doesn’t have a ton of money pressure living with Scorpia and Entrapta, so she’s planning to keep it. This is also heavily based on one of my first jobs where I did something similar for a university but it had nothing to do with collections or the library. Catra works the same hours I did then.

Chapter 3:

⦁ Bow would have offered Catra his own bed if he thought she would have taken it, but Entrapta — and Catra’s own reactions — made it pretty clear that she was going to make herself difficult to help, so he thought the couch might seem “less pitying,” but he didn’t account for the Adora factor. Everybody forgets about the Adora factor.

⦁ Scorpia mentioning “six years” immediately solidified in Adora’s subconscious that Catra’s injury was from the fall, which is why she jumped to saying she watched it happen. It didn’t even occur to Adora that Catra’s paralysis could have come from something other than the fall until she was in bed like two days later and thought, oh fuck, there could have been something worse.

⦁ Sneaking onto the school roof is the exact kind of shit Catra and Adora would do together, but since she was going up there to have A Moment™️ about one of her deaths, Catra wanted to be alone. It felt like this dark secret that she was harboring and would ruin her life at any moment.

Interlude:

⦁ “It helps a lot even without her talking back or looking at me” yeah sometimes Entrapta is listening and sometimes she isn’t even aware Scorpia is there. Scorpia can unload her whole problem, talk herself through a solution, say “Thanks!”, and then only after she has marched herself out of the room will Entrapta realize she has left and throw a goodbye through the door, still not looking away from her screens. The first time Catra witnesses this she immediately gets a clear picture of the apartment dynamic.

⦁ Catra wouldn’t say her name because it was part of her paranoia over being hunted down somehow.

⦁ “Maybe Scorpia isn’t used to people not immediately loving her.” Yeah could not be further from the truth she was kind of bullied in school, that’s how she and Entrapta became friends, because they were both bad at social cues and stuck together.

⦁ Obviously, Entrapta didn’t mean anything by her questions. When you don’t realize other people would treat someone differently over something, it can seem like innocent curiosity to ask about it. She learned very quickly after meeting Catra that those kinds of things have limits, it just wasn’t something that had come up in her life before and she hadn’t inferred it.

Chapter 4:

⦁ Honestly Adora had to have Mara as family to support her because any less and she might not have made it to be at all together after everything she thought happened with Catra.

⦁ Catra does wear her arm brace in other scenarios — when she’s going to be doing physical activity, for instance, though she might opt for a sling instead/in addition — but as far as wearing it while in the apartment, sleeping like that is the only one. The difficulty of putting it on by herself — and the pain of getting help — are why she almost never uses it, even though it would work for some (but not all) of the things the sling works for, and be less obtrusive too. That’s why Adora being able to help with it later is so helpful.

Chapter 5:

⦁ The thing Adora knows that Catra doesn’t is that she’s absolutely going to break and come back home with her, even if the driving thing was more up in the air.

⦁ I went back and forth on the language to use around Catra’s ears, specifically whether to refer to them as a pair or only reference her single fully-functional one. Ultimately I decided that Catra’s internal dialog would still think of it as her ears pinning back even if only one moves (at all for small movements, or all the way for larger). She spent her entire life thinking of them as a pair, and she can’t feel one not reacting, she just doesn’t feel anything over there, so she defaults to how she used to consider them unless she’s like, looking in the mirror and can see only one move. When it comes to other people addressing them, they see just one ear reacting for the most part and tend to refer to them singularly.

Chapter 6:

⦁ Scorpia got Adora’s number at the same event that she told her about arm-hugs, mostly to puff herself up when she realized Adora could pet Catra, however carefully.

⦁ Scorpia’s pillow said “Not to spoil the ending, but everything is going to be ok” which just irritated Catra every time she saw it, so she hid it. She can’t throw it out because Scorpia’s moms are the ones who got it, but she can do her damnedest to never see it again. It mysteriously reappears when Scorpia is moving out so she can take the dumb thing with her.

⦁ Like every chapter I had a scene that I was like “this is the most fun to write, I love this so much” (which like… really awesome from a writing perspective!) and the cuddling scene was that one for this chapter. I thought it was going to be the phone call, but Adora’s determination to cuddle, her diagram, and Catra’s fluster were just so fun to work with.

Chapter 7:

⦁ Mara calls her loved ones dear because Razz always called her dearie.

⦁ Mara and Adora went all-in on the driving thing because they know Catra well and knows she needs an excuse, or at least an extra push, whenever it comes to emotional stuff like coming home.

⦁ Originally the phone calls were outlined to be one singular phone call, with Catra eventually getting comfortable enough to turn on the video as the call went on, but spreading it out made a little more sense. In the version where it was all one call, though, Catra admitted that she didn’t want them to see her face paralyzed and Adora asked Mara to tell Catra that she didn’t care about her ear. Another reason I cut it is because I decided Catra wasn’t self-conscious about that aspect of her injury.

⦁ Entrapta is thorough. There were two-three months there were she was tracking and timing just about every single thing Catra did inside the apartment. She had monitoring devices she didn’t realize her roommates would want to know about because it just seemed more effective to her than following Catra around all day. Her presence would have skewed the experiment. It’s creepy, but it all came from a place of love and wanting to build a better understanding of what could be effecting Catra’s situation.

⦁ The restraint it took for me to not make a joke about Entrapta knowing when Catra… “takes time for herself” was immense but I kept reminding myself it was a T fic.

⦁ “I was there two months ago” Ha, yeah, this is set in December and… The anniversary……. Adora needed to be home. Her moms are the only ones who can really comfort her when she’s like that.

⦁ Mara really wanted a kid, and Hope did too but less so, and she had a lot more Concerns about it. When they started looking into adoption and found a kid who was human (so Hope was confident they were informed on taking care of her) and had been an orphan for ten years, Mara couldn’t stand to leave her there. They hadn’t really been intending on getting an older kid (I mean, ten is not old, but in Hope’s head they were looking for a baby because typically you Acquire Child at babyhood so that must be how it works) but Adora being older was another thing that made Hope go okay, we can do this (she’s also, to be quite honest, not a fan of babies or very small children). What that meant in the end though was that Mara, in her older twenties, had much less of an age gap with Adora then would be typical. Hope is like six years older and so her age gap with Adora is less noticeably off.

I think it’s a faceblind thing, but I’m absolutely awful with ages. You could tell me Mara is supposed to be early 20s or late 30s and I would have no choice believe you. Regardless, I roughly place Mara somewhere around the 20-30 mark in the show and as having a more “big sister”-like relationship with Adora, so that’s how things got set up in this AU.

⦁ It’s “Bow’s” senior year because Glimmer is a year younger and Adora’s college education was kind of weird so she doesn’t really consider herself as having anything but a freshmen year. Maybe sophmore.

Chapter 8:

⦁ Catra has two bags while Adora has one for two reasons: 1) Adora still has some stuff at home and doesn’t need to bring as much, and 2) Catra’s second bag was mostly dedicated to her adaptive devices and hybrid shit since she knew she might need them for any stuff Adora wanted to do and she couldn’t borrow the shampoo already at the house.

⦁ Perfuma’s nature hike actually originated in this chapter and then I added it in to chapter 6 since I was far enough ahead in writing to do that. Before that the vibe was just “Well obviously Scorpia got Adora’s number from Perfuma at some point,” but this gave a more solid throughline on that. Their interaction at the nature hike is also what led to Scorpia starting to turn around on Adora until she tested her with the phone call.

⦁ The “look” that passed over Adora’s face when Catra joked that she didn’t remember getting tangled in the ribbon was her briefly worrying that Catra actually didn’t remember due to her supposed memory issues following the fall.

⦁ The school where Catra fell is loosely based on the random high school I took my SATs at, where it was actually four buildings with a courtyard and a quad between the buildings and various sports fields. Adora was walking on one of the paths circling one of the buildings when she saw Catra fall from the roof of another.

⦁ Adora mentions hospitals plural because she checked every single one it was even semi-plausible for Catra to be taken to, though there was only one that made sense since it was more than twenty minutes closer than the next one.

⦁ Adora has her childhood twin bed at home and at the apartment Catra has a double bed to give her enough room to comfortably position her arm without worry. It also helps when she does have a nightmare bad enough for her to move around, and when she’s having a day where her fear of falling is intense. She can tuck into the corner between the bed and the wall and know there’s no way she’s going over the edge.

⦁ This fic was supposed to be set nebulously in the fall until I had the Winterfest ideas and lined everything up to make it happen. It still worked out with it starting literally right after Catra’s birthday, but I went back and edited in a line referring to it later so it would build the time of year out better before it got to the Winterfest stuff. Of course, that only matters if you reread chapter 2 after I did it or started reading the fic later on, but it’s there for rereads, at least. It’s one of those unique things about fanfic and how you (typically) post it as you write it, which doesn’t allow for much in the way of second drafts. I really like that about fanfic because of how it forces you to work the limitation (and also I hate rewriting), but I always have more ideas while I’m writing so sometimes it can get in the way of something good.

⦁ The original title of this fic was “As Many Lives As It Takes (To Be With You Again)” but at some point between creating the document and posting the “Again” got dropped. This isn’t relevant to chapter 8, I just happened to notice it while typing the notes for it.

Chapter 9:

⦁ There was a lot more stuff about Catra learning to drive in this chapter initially, but I wasn’t happy with it and found I was skipping right past it when I was trying to reread/edit what was going on in the chapter, so for the final version I cut it. Some things though: Catra’s entire first day of driving didn’t even involve leaving park, it was mostly spent on figuring out how to manage her arm (in the end, putting it in the arm brace was the best way to keep it still and out of the way, even though that was difficult with Adora helping her instead of Entrapta) and stuff like hitting the turn signal with her pinky while turning the wheel. The first day where they actually drove in the street Adora came along — just for fun and not in case you have a panic attack, promise! — but was sworn to being silent in the backseat. That lasted until Mara said Catra was learning faster than Adora did.

⦁ Adora’s not a bad driver, she’s just an anxious one, partially due to Catra’s accident making her all too aware of the dangers. She spent high school watching Catra deal with her paralysis which supposedly came from the car accident, after all, so she tends to be a meek driver.

⦁ When Catra sees things she wasn’t able to IRL in her dreams, like when she sees parts of the incidents that she was actually dead/unconscious for… sometimes that’s accurate. And that’s all I’ll say.

⦁ The dent stuff… with the bumper… might or might not have been inspired by the movie Underdog……… It’s a very comedic origin for something that is so traumatic in the fic but like. I saw that movie as a kid and never forgot that part.

⦁ Entrapta 100% hacked the DMV and canceled someone else’s permit test so Catra could be fit in immediately, she just didn’t tell Catra that. Not that she’s hiding it, exactly, but volunteering that information? No.

⦁ Oh that phone call from Adora’s perspective. Adora basically didn’t know shit about what they did in the logs. She was horrified by what Catra described, but also a little confused, and maybe even put out. Catra had never told her even half the details it was clear Entrapta knew off the top of her head, and she made it sound like it was all very clear and she remembered every second of what she was awake for. Which, well, she did. Because her body was totally fine. Adora was ruffled by Entrapta’s “bedside manner”, and then she heard the hacking stuff which had her like, wait, what? because Catra had mentioned Entrapta was a professional white hat hacker before (sometimes. Sometimes black hat. Sometimes she does other stuff and invents a new programming language) but the whole “instantly pulling up results from the DMV thing” threw her. She was very attentive when Entrapta was running diagnostics and stuff because she didn’t know about things like Catra still being able to slightly twitch her fingers or shoulder sometimes.

⦁ Catra specifies not mocking Scorpia during romcoms because there is no way, ever, no matter what she owes, that she won’t make fun of the dumb romance movie stuff that happens, especially het nonsense when that applies.

⦁ Catra’s fosters did get her “Winterfest gifts” but they were things like clothes and school supplies she would need anyway, just maybe a little nicer or at least less generic than usual.

⦁ Time to talk about what everybody thought happened to Catra! Obviously, people at school decided Catra had died within the first few weeks. At that time, Adora decided Catra must be in a coma or suffering memory loss, maybe awake but not lucid. She thought Catra’s condition being unstable might be why no one would talk to her, but she told herself she couldn’t be dead because then they would just say that. The longer it went with everyone remaining tight-lipped, however, the worse things Adora began to believe. About a year in, she came to “accept” that Catra was dead — outright, or brain dead even if her body was still breathing. Mara and Hope also didn’t know why anyone would “cover up” what was supposedly a very public suicide, so they also believed Catra “survived,” but knowing how far she fell and how bad it must have been, they knew pretty much right away she was likely to be brain dead or not remember anything. They didn’t really ever say what they thought, though, mostly focusing on comforting Adora when she went through disaster scenarios and occasionally reluctantly admitting which they thought was most likely when she got too frantic to be calmed by anything but an answer. Each member of the trio had a different opinion (each of which was an option that everyone else had considered individually): Kyle believed Catra was severely injured and sent away to a rehab facility to recover and perhaps help her overcome her “suicidal tendencies” but was basically cut off from them by the system, Rogelio believed she was in a coma and if she ever woke suffered memory loss (explaining why she never contacted them), and Lonnie thought that she was straight up brain dead before they eventually pulled the plug. Catra’s foster parents, knowing she had run from the hospital, thought she was dead in a ditch somewhere and after a few months decided they were just never informed when she was found.

⦁ Yes it’s late for chestnut season. No I do not care. Chestnut season is a few weeks later in Etheria, okay.

⦁ Both Mara and Hope cook usually, but around holidays Mara takes charge and it’s family recipes 24/7. Mara probably would have baked a pie for the final day of Winterfest anyway, but it wouldn’t have been that one. That one is the most special.

Chapter 10:

⦁ Even if Catra didn’t need her hand for the VR game, Bow��s headset wouldn’t have fit over her ears. There are headsets that would work, just not the one Bow built. It wasn’t a concern for him at the time.

⦁ Glimmer is terrified of horror games for herself, but she seems to forget that literally every time and is always really excited to play, just remembering the adrenaline rush and thinking this time she’ll redeem herself and be totally cool and composed.

⦁ The horror game was going to be the latest Resident Evil DLC (for the Village? I think? Or like the sequel?) but then I was like damn. I don’t know if that’s in VR. But it was literally the only horror game I could think of at the moment despite liking (let’s plays) of them, so I kind of co-opted and mangled the mom-mannequin-dolls section of that.

⦁ The Star siblings were actually at the barbecue in my first draft but it made the scene too crowded when half the attendees already didn’t have speaking roles.

⦁ I kept trying to figure out where to fit in Adora’s school shit and it just never didn’t slow the scene down. I’m not sure it doesn’t here, either, but somewhere in the fic proper I wanted to mention why Adora and Catra never bumped into each other on campus. I had already decided Adora’s school worked out this way before I decided on Catra’s job, but that just made it relevant. Basically, Adora came to Bright Moon intending to get a four year degree and then go into nursing. Mara and Hope were supportive, but a little insistent she go to a four-year instead of a community college for nursing because then she could explore more. They just didn’t want her to fall too into the martyr shit without them there as a support system, but Adora thought they were lowkey hoping she’d change her mind and decide to become a doctor instead of “just” a nurse. Adora was roommates with Glimmer freshmen year and met a few of their eventual friend group there, which she always says made it all worth it, but university was a disaster for her. She would have rather drop dead from exhaustion than drop out, but that was looking increasingly likely as her mental health combined with ADHD to make her a disaster. Her grades weren’t good, she spent time crying in the study rooms at the library, it was a mess. Eventually Glimmer called Mara to make sure she knew just how bad it was for Adora since she knew by then she would play it down. They’d only been friends for a few months and she was definitely overstepping, but Adora’s moms made her talk it out and they decided she would transfer to Bright Moon’s community college, where she could take one less class a semester and graduate with what she needed after only three years of school overall. Adora still kind of felt like a failure, but Glimmer just happened to decide at the same time that the dorms were insufferable and hey, we know we make good roommates already, why don’t we get an apartment between our campuses together? And living with Glimmer meant seeing Bow a lot too, so Adora didn’t have to “lose” the two good friends she had made at uni so far when she left (something she was really worried about). Glimmer and Bow wouldn’t let her hide in a shame corner over “not being cut out for it” either so she still saw their other friends from campus and even made more via mutual friends, eventually ending up with their current friend group, the exceptions being the Star Siblings (from community college), Frosta (from across the streets), and Netossa/Spinnerella (from work, Adora met Netossa during the course of her med studies).

⦁ Adora spent like an hour agonizing over her outfit and asking Glimmer for help, insisting it was just because she wanted to look nice for her birthday and not because she was thinking of putting the moves on someone or wanted to impress them. She undid the top two buttons, and then Glimmer undid two more and called it perfect.

⦁ Hey, guess what, this chapter was supposed to cover twice as much as it did (shocker) and then they took too long making out (shocker) ¯_(ツ)_/¯ This is where I had to update the chapter count AGAIN and when I did that I went back and filled out the scene during the party, which was only written in summary until that point, because apparently I had the fucking room for it in that chapter since the real confession clearly wasn’t happening.

Chapter 11:

⦁ Entrapta is playing Monster Hunter in the first scene, because I’ve had single monster fights last 40 fucking minutes in that game before. I was actually going to make it vaguely be like, a Souls game or something, but then I was like no, Monster Hunter is more her speed, leading to the jokes about how long the fight is.

⦁ Catra’s arm pain is both psychological and magic. Obviously the mechanics of how it hurts without her having any feeling are magic, but the pain comes from her mental state. The more comfortable she is with someone’s touch and the more she trusts them, the less it hurts. It also ties to her general emotional turmoil, which is why it’s still bad when she remembers stressful things, when waking up from a nightmare, etc and why it caused her such pain that first moment Adora touched her.

⦁ Tapetum lucidum is the thing that makes cats eyes glow in the dark (among other creatures) when hit correctly with light. Melog’s was not being hit correctly with light. I refuse to explain Melog.

⦁ The start of Catra’s speech was once the start of the fic, but instead of her telling it to someone, it was just the narration (“It all starts when Catra is eleven and decides to run away to find Adora, but she doesn’t understand it until later. Actually, she never understands it, but the first death she could pretend was a fluke.”). When I had this idea, I started just kind of writing with the idea of well, let me do a few paragraphs on each death and see how I feel about that. I had a few false starts, and then I wrote that beginning bit of Catra’s speech, and then it cut to a new scene to talk about the car. That paragraph ended up being heavily edited down and used in the scene in chapter 9 where she talks about the nightmare. I decided to change direction on that because 1) it wasn’t good, 2) it was wallowing, and 3) I wasn’t actually intending to start the fic that way anyway, it was just so much in its infancy that I was testing some stuff out to see what the backstory was and where I wanted to take it. Because of that false start, though, I then had trouble tracking what had been revealed/implied throughout the fic when it came to the later-revealed deaths and their fallout.

Chapter 12:

⦁ Adora lowkey moved in on a temporary basis, she just needed to be around Catra very badly between the new couple and “died four times” things. She did end up going back to (mostly) sleeping at her place and Glimmer and Bow were very insistent on them spending time together too when she relaxed again.

⦁ I didn’t want to do anything above a T rating with this fic, really, but I did kind of want to make allusions to other ways disability can effect intimacy, hence the allusions to Catra needing toy assistance since her left hand just can’t manage it and her insecurities about “contributing” when it’s time.

⦁ Catra’s ability was so unbelievable and confusing that it wasn’t the kind of thing Adora could just instantly accept as fact and help her work through, so a “trailing” ending was necessary to show Adora coming to that place of total belief with time, and trying hard to support Catra while she did so. And of course I wanted them to get time being totally honest with each other. I had a lot of the ideas for the Scorpia stuff and such that I thought would just be in the “epilogue” part of the fic notes, but then I went no, you know what, this is Important to how I envision the end here, so I made it an actual part of the fic, similarly to how I did the third fic in the Greys/Waiting For My Spaceship To Come Back For Me series. Why am I mentioning that here? Because all of the epilogue stuff was supposed to be part of chapter 12 too and then of course that didn’t work out. And I had to update the chapter count. Again.

⦁ It was really important to me that Catra’s disability didn’t magically get better. The only thing that changed was it caused her less pain, and even that is person-dependent. Her muscle response gets slightly better — sometimes — but that isn’t enough to hold a pen or be useful. There are temporary disabilities, of course, but that wasn’t the kind I was trying to show here and a disability doesn’t have to “go away” to get a happy ending. Catra’s happy ending was finding peace and love despite the things that haunt her, and she can have all that while still being disabled, she can just get hugs from at least one person now. The original outline had a point where Catra began kneading with both hands while cuddling with Adora around when she told her the truth, but I decided that was too much of a miraculous recovery. Even the sudden squeezing of the ball was something I was iffy on, but that was truly a once-in-a-lifetime thing, so I kept it and portrayed it as such, editing the kneading thing down to just twitching, because I did think it was cute.

Chapter 13:

⦁ WAILMER PAIL

⦁ I know I’ve talked a lot about how this fic ballooned, but I haven’t had fun on a project like I did this one, and Hurricane Adora, and the other smaller fics I’ve done recently, in a long time. Let Me Ride too, to a lesser degree, but I haven’t really had a project just flow out and build like this in the last year. The big difference on those last two was I just… did what I wanted. Which I know sounds obvious, but I didn’t sit and try to plot out okay, what is the whole arc for this fic going to be, what do I need to get done to get there. I did that a decent amount of Let Me Ride, which is why it’s a halfway fic here (and look at that, written slower than the others), but for these two I went well, they’re short fics, I don’t need to worry about that stuff and I can just let loose. And then neither ended up anywhere near where I thought they would, and I had an absolute blast. It’s hard to describe, but I just had a lot of fun and felt very liberated with my fics recently. I think I was treating them too much like novels, if that makes sense, and honestly the word count speaks for itself. I wrote less in November AND December combined than I did in January alone (working on LMR + oneshots), and that’s half as much as I’ve written for March alone (February being closer to March’s word count). I had my 4th highest ever word count day (since I started recording them in 2021) on this project at over 8k (for those curious, my highest ever was 12k the day I pumped out most of MNoHL in one sitting). Anyway, it ran away from me, but I was more than happy to go along on the ride, even if the fic notes alone are 7k.

Adora Interludes:

So, this fic was entirely from Catra’s perspective. Which was for three reasons: 1) Adora’s POV has no place in the first two chapters so at that point I was pretty committed, 2) she’s the most interesting POV by far for this fic, and 3) I thought this fic would be short. I don’t normally do long fics from just one character’s perspective, and you’re about to see why, but I thought it was only going to be 20k which was a fine amount for one POV. The longest fic I’ve done from one perspective before this was ASDLM, depending how you want to count it, and even then I included five fucking interludes of Adora’s POV. I don’t usually use one character POV since I find it interesting to go back and forth, but also, it’s so hard to stick to one POV. The reunion happened and I wanted to write Adora talking to Glimbow that night! Catra has her panic attack and I want to write out what Adora is thinking! But it doesn’t fit with the fic. So sometimes I did it anyway. None of these were fully written and polished and were more just me tracking where Adora was at with the big stuff, but I wanted to at least talk about them a little and they didn’t fit anywhere else in the fic notes. I just played it out in my head, sometimes, but I ended up writing down some rough scene outlines with intersperses of actual writing for:

Adora telling Glimmer and Bow everything Catra told her the night after she leaves. Glimmer starts off a little unsure of if they should be mad at Catra or not for never telling Adora she was alive, but eventually she “accepts” it (though she remains cautious of Catra for a few weeks).

Adora’s next call with her therapist, dumping the story onto her and talking a little about the guilt thing.

I don’t think I ever wrote anything down for the convo Adora had with her parents where she told them the story, but I sure thought about it a fucking lot.

Adora having a conversation with Hope over the break, while Catra and Mara are out driving. I would go into more detail, but there was a line that was originally drafted in a previous scene with Adora and Catra that didn’t end up happening, and then I put it in this scene that also wasn’t “real,” so…. At this point I’m just fucking sharing it. Because why not. The scene will be up tomorrow as a fic extra and linked in the meta section. Note that it is a detailed outline and NOT real writing, but I like it and can’t imagine just deleting it once this fic is done, so I’ll just post it here for anyone interested.

Original Outline:

I talked so much shit about the chapter count for this fic and it came back to haunt me. Here’s the thing: my initial chapter count wasn’t that wrong, which I know sounds insane when it was only like 5, but the contents for the fic I was imagining then did take up about 5 chapters. The intro, getting to the party, reintroduction, getting to know each other again, and then getting comfortable and confession.

The first two of those went exactly as I pictured. While I was writing chapter 3, though, the reintroduction went on longer than I imagined just because there was a lot to cover to do it right and it ended up taking up an entire chapter. Around then I started getting so many more ideas for the story. Initially it was supposed to be like, a nightmare/death per chapter, but then I started thinking about Adora telling her parents, and Catra going back home to visit them, and around then was when I accepted the vision for the fic expanded and bumped it to eight-ish with the vision that the visit would take two of those chapters roughly and another chapter would be fitted in for more bonding/growing closer before the confession.

Then I sat down and actually started doing my, like, one sentence outlines for scenes ([phone convo with Mara, rejects facetime], [entrapta/netossa collab], etc) and realized ohhhhh god this is more than three additional chapters worth of material. And maybe I always suspected that, because when I added more chapter headings to the document, I bumped it up to ten rather than eight. I had a detailed outline up to chapter nine, and by the time I was actually writing that far I was like this is going to be fucking eleven chapters isn’t it… but I was still unsure where it was going to fall in the 10-12 range. The epilogue was, once again, an addition, though a necessary one in my opinion, but those ideas weren’t part of the 10-12 chapter estimate.

I didn’t really have a strong vision for how the end was going to go until I got there, so the only thing about the final part of the fic that is different from the “original outline” is the remote log during the visit home (initially that was supposed to happen in person on a night when Adora slept over after they got back, but that just made less sense) and how they ran into the trio. My very initial idea for that was them driving (Catra driving, Adora teaching her, probably later on in the trip when maybe it isn’t all on Mara) and they drive past the trio walking on the sidewalk of a neighborhood and Catra nearly has a panic attack. Adora steers her through parking on the side of the road (ahead of where the trio are walking) and Catra gets ahold of herself as Adora glances back through the back window to see the trio eyeing the car, because they just saw it park a little erratically, and then they realize Adora is in the car. They can just barely see eartips around the headrest for Catra but can’t make much out.

They then watch Adora get out, wave to them sheepishly, make a motion for them to stay where they are, and then she walks around to the street side and opens up the backseat to get out the sling. This was before I had thought about anything and realized the arm brace was probably the best call for driving. Adora then opens Catra’s door, helps her put on the sling while still sitting in the driver’s seat, and holds her hand to help pull her to her feet out of the car, finally letting them see her. This made the conversation more of Catra’s choice, but when I pictured the whole exchange on the sidewalk, I had no intention of it actually being part of the fic. At that point, I hadn’t even decided if the Winterfest stuff was going to be part of it. But once I started writing that stuff, I decided the trio had to be in it too and switched it around to a run-in that made a little more sense and actually furthered Catra’s progression.

Meta:

Interlude: Three Years Ago

Fic Extra #2: Adora’s Interlude: A Conversation with Hope

Fic Extra #3: Timeline

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I had a plan for what fic was going to be next. Then another fic idea solidified and it was going to be that one. Then I had a new, but also returning, idea. What I’m saying is, I’m indecisive, but for the last month one AU in particular has been calling, and it’s honestly shocking I haven’t done it yet because I’m me and it's, well…

Up next is Superzero.

#amlait #ficmeta #fic notes

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chemicaljacketslut · 9 months

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like truly can we talk about this because i feel like this is the site to talk about it on. can we talk about growing up like neurodivergent or whatever it is that sets you apart. probably more applicable to undiagnosed people or those who got little to no support for their differences. now this isn’t how it is for a nd or whatever people but for some. growing up like that and feeling this incredibly vast and profound alienation from your peers, for reasons you don’t fully understand. maybe finding friends and spaces that you feel you belong in in your youth, but then those don’t last forever. growing up and having those spaces all fade away, and then you become an Adult. and you have to interact with the world and all the Normal People that your whole life you have felt entirely excluded from. and you have to just live like that??? having to go to dentist’s appointments and job interviews???? and just PRETEND you’re normal and always have been, because how are you going to explain to the random middle aged woman cutting your hair that you feel like a complete fraud socially and have no idea what you’re doing and don’t know how to exist in the real normal world because that has never been a place you felt like you belonged in, and not only that but now you also feel like an evil little creature because you’ve been lying to all these people and acting completely out of character for yourself and now half the people in your life have no earthly idea who you really are or what you really behave like, and even though you’re just trying your best to get by you constantly feel like you’ve done something terribly wrong. can we discuss this please

#this has been such a big topic for me lately entering that transitional phase into adulthood #like why do i have to feel guilty and like a fraud ALL THE TIME #the impostor syndrome really starts hitting hard around this age huh #and like when you’re a kid it’s like oh it’s fine you’re weird you’re just a kid u don’t know what you’re doing #but as an Adult you have responsibilities and social expectations and good heavens. i need to go off the grid #ghost rants

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sweet-dreamins · 3 years

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careless (f+a)

○ pairing: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x gn! reader, pro hero! reader, established relationship

○ word count: 3.5k

○ summary: after a successful battle you’re confused when katsuki isn’t happy for you, in fact he’s furious. shouldn’t he be proud of you?

○ content: a bit angsty, a bit fluffy, hurt/comfort, mention of cuts and blood

○ a/n: i rewrote this like 4 times lol but here it is!! (i may come back nd edit bc passive voice) feedback is appreciated, enjoy!

You and Bakugou were partners, but you weren’t partners. Sure, you were lovers in the nighttime, but on the field? Yeah, no thanks. The two of you had only partnered up a few times, and that was more than enough for you. Before even entering the field, you were hesitant that he’d let himself get distracted by you and you were right, just not for the reasons you think.

The dynamic shifted juuuust a little too much for your liking. One of the most...memorable times was when you were up against one of the more powerful villains. Anytime the villain would make a move towards you before you could even retaliate, Bakugou would slip in front of you- even going as far as to shove you back. To others watching, it seemed as if he was falling back into his attention-seeking habits or that it was so romantic that he put your safety over his, but you knew better (or at least you thought you did).

After that fight, you two had quite the shouting match in the ER afterward. Until he dragged the two of you home, insisting he was more than capable of taking care of the both of you. That, and his publicist was this close to having another conniption after hearing about your rather loud discussion….that the whole hospital heard.

You knew Katsuki only acted that way out of love and concern for you. You know that he sees you as strong. So, why did it still feel so demeaning? Why did it feel like he didn’t, maybe still doesn’t, see you as strong enough?

Even though after your discussion, you had decided to not do hero work together, the little voice in the back of your head wasn’t erased. Creeping in concluding that you were nothing but a pity fuck. The skewed, brutal honesty of the public never failed to make the little voice louder.

You did your best to not let it get to you, you really did. You ignored the tabloids and told your friends you didn’t want them telling you about the articles they had read. But this past week was just atrocious. Katsuki and you had gone on a coffee date, knowing that he was going to be swamped this week, trying to make up for crammed schedules. The paparazzi managed to find you-instantly getting into your personal space, effectively cutting your date short.

By the time you had got back to your apartment, the pictures were already released and practically everywhere. Katsuki tried distracting you by making you dinner and it was wonderful. But you stayed up that night reading every single headline, article, and comment about the two of you. Drowning yourself in the criticism as the voice began to get louder and louder.

Of course, you would never say it out loud, but since then you had been itching for a fight with a real villain. Somebody who can do some proper damage, somebody strong. Any kind of opportunity where you could prove your strength, show everyone that they’re wrong about you. That you’re good enough for Katsuki, that you’re strong enough to be a hero- that you are enough. And finally, finally, finally, the chance came.

You did wonderfully. The fight had dragged on for a while, long enough for reporters to arrive and commentate on the rest of it. Everyone could see how well that you handled everything, all the footage establishing your reputation.

Once the adrenaline from the fight had subsided, the ache in your body started seeping into your bones. Cuts that had been littered across your skin felt as though they had started glowing red, the cool night air kissing them. You still managed to put on a brave face for the crowd afterward, relief and joy filling your heart as the cheers far outweighed the jeers.

You let their praises wash over you, relishing the fact the little voice in your head had been silenced. Their words seeping into through your wounds, momentarily numbing the burning pain. Your heart was no longer squeezed by apprehension, finally at ease knowing that they believed in you, in your worth. As you gave your last interview and waved to the crowd, you made your way over to the ambulance.

His foot was practically tapping the ground at the speed of light, you were surprised he hadn’t made an indent in the concrete already. Katsuki stood there, arms crossed with a scowl on his face, furrowed brow, and glaring eyes. You didn’t know whether it was the exhaustion or if the night was that cold, but you could’ve sworn there was steam coming off of him.

He had arrived pretty late to the scene, coming from the other side of the city, but the footage of you was everywhere. Katsuki had seen the majority of the fight and despite not saying anything, it was obvious that he did not like what he saw. The lights from the ambulance bathed the two of you in red light. Strong arms envelop you in a firm but gentle hug. You close your eyes and breathe him in. You stand there in silence for a little while, simply basking in each other’s presence.

He leans down to mumble in a gruff voice, lips brushing against your ear,

“I already talked to the EMTs, we’re going home now.”

Although Katsuki had EMT training from when he was younger, only on rare occasions did he fully take patching you up into his own hands. Yes, he was always breathing down the neck of the poor medic who had the misfortune of having you as a patient, but typically he had enough self-control to let them do their job.

You were grateful to have privacy, but his reaction was off-putting to say the very least. He should be proud of you, right? That you handled everything so well, he should be congratulating you, right? So...why does he look like he’s two seconds away from grinding his teeth to dust?

The car ride to your apartment is as silent as the grave, thick tension weighing down the surrounding air, making your tongue heavy in your mouth. Katsuki’s knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel, not once sparing you a glance. Nearly all the lingering adrenaline from the fight and buzz from the crowd has faded, irritation and pain taking place.

Why the hell is he mad at me right now? He has no right or reason to be mad at me. Everything turned out fine!

As the city lights flutter past the window, you sit in the passenger stewing in confusion and anger. Wracking your brain trying to come up with a logical reason as to why he’s mad at you. Once you arrive at your apartment, you wait to hear the telltale slam of the front door, preparing to cringe- but it never comes.

Instead, Katsuki gently shuts the door behind him.

Oh. So he’s in that kind of mood.

Over time, you came to learn that there were levels to Katsuki’s anger. Everyone else in his life had been on the receiving end of his knee jerk reaction at some point. Yelling and slamming down everything he could get his hands on. But tonight, the type of anger in front of you. Only a few people had been privy to. The kind he has the force of an inferno behind it but is trying to channel it into a few million candles. The kind he wants to be careful with his words, spending every passing second trying to remove the barbs from his tongue, so as not to get it wrong.

Before you could get pulled back into your head, a large warm hand pressing at the small of your back kept you tethered to reality. Katsuki gently guided you to the bathroom, wordlessly turning on the shower, a silent signal for you to get undressed. The tension from the car had followed you into the apartment, a dark cloud, about to storm at any moment.

You slip into the shower, drinking in the way the water washes away the dirt and grime of the day. The peace is short-lived, the warm water trickling into your open wounds, your entire body stinging slightly. Peeking past the curtain, you see Katsuki rummaging through the closet for supplies. After he sets everything on the counter, he steps out to grab clothes.

Snatching the soap bar, you scrub your body down as quickly as possible, whimpers of pain involuntarily falling from your mouth. You had waited until Katsuki left, not wanting him to hear you crying out. Frantically blinking away your blurry vision, you finish washing up and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel, taking deep breaths. How are you going to keep it together?

In your shared bedroom, Katsuki was grabbing you a change of clothes while grumbling to himself. After throwing on a tank top and sweatpants, he paces back and forth with a scowl, running a hand through his hair. Trying to untangle the scribbles piling up in his brain, he takes a deep breath and looks into the mirror. He knows he needs to tread carefully, to get his words across in the best way possible. What you need right now isn’t yelling or anger, it’s honesty and support. He doesn’t want his anger to get in the way of what truly matters, repeating it over and over in his head,

I love you, and I care about you. I love you, and I care about you.

He makes his way back to the bathroom, clothes in hand, to see you standing there wrapped up tight in a fluffy towel. The precious sight in front of him squeezes his heart, making it a little hard to breathe. Here, in the safety of your apartment, you let yourself be a little more vulnerable and he loves it, wants more of it. But once you notice him walk in, you stand up a little straighter, wiping away the teary expression on your face. He grits his teeth at this but says nothing, reminding himself to keep it together.

You finish drying off and put on the clothes he brought you, one of his shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. Even though he’s standing right in front of you, being enveloped by his scent is still comforting. He leans against the counter, waiting for you to jump onto the space next to him, reminding himself one more time,

I love you, and I care about you.

He finally opens his mouth to say,

“That was really stupid of you.”

No response.

“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, you realize that, right?”

Silence.

“You could’ve bled out and died.”

You spit back, “But I didn’t right? I’m still here, aren’t I? So it doesn’t matter.”

Katsuki grits his teeth, huffing through his nose, growling out,

“It doesn’t matter?”

“No, no it doesn’t because I’m fine. Everything else turned out fine, so who cares?”

You were certain you were right, no doubt about it! He was overreacting about this and it was honestly the last thing you needed tonight, so you had less patience than usual.

He snaps his jaw shut, opting for the silent treatment again with a scowl on his face. Katsuki douses a cotton pad in alcohol and swipes it across one of your cuts.

You yelp in pain and surprise, sucking breath in through your teeth, snatching his wrist. You shoot him a glare, at first he’s ready to glare right back, but once he meets your gaze he softens. That’s what you do to him. You’ve given him a safe space to be soft, to be loving- to be vulnerable. This is why this cuts him up inside so much more, he knows that you’re in pain, that you’ve been in pain for the past week. But every time he would ask, you brushed it off, adamant on shouldering it by yourself. He was even angrier at himself for not pushing harder, if he had you might not have pushed yourself tonight.

You were his safe space and your reluctance to be vulnerable with him, had him doubting himself. Was he not enough for you? Did you not think he could be your safe space? He had beat himself up over this, which added another layer of frustration that had to take the backseat tonight.

He continues working diligently in silence, repeating the process with the same care for every single cut. Rubbing alcohol, bacitracin, a bandaid, and then smoothing over it with his rough fingertips. Repeatedly, gently tracing plain patterns over the material, soothing the both of you. If the circumstances were different, he would’ve littered butterfly kisses over every single one. The amount of self-control that he was showing was unfathomable.

Katsuki was inches away from exploding, pulling his brain in endless directions between figuring out how to get through to you, wanting to just tactlessly spill his guts, and longing to smother you in frantic love. You were nearing eruption as well, desperately wanting him to say something, anything at all, but you also didn’t want to hear a single word of his lecturing. You also wanted nothing more but to hug him, to cling to him because fuck, tonight was terrifying but you couldn’t let him know that-you had to stick to your guns.

Both of you were stubborn as all get out, a trait that you both loved and hated in one another. Neither of you wants to be the first to give in, and yet desperately pray the other will. Here together, in your bathroom, and yet worlds apart, lost in your thoughts. You were unceremoniously dragged back to the moment in front of you by fear.

Whether Katsuki did it on purpose, he had left the worst cut for last. It was the biggest one, crimson and angry, your anxiety building as he prepared to clean it. You had handled the stinging of the rest of the cuts fairly well, this one was going to be your breaking point.

His warm, rough hands wrap around your thigh, lightly squeezing it to steady you.

“Wait! Please.”

Your hand shot out to wrap around his wrist, your brain still catching up to your outburst. He immediately stopped in his tracks, looking up at you and feeling his heart shatter when he saw your eyes. Pleading, looking for mercy in him, and full of fear. As soft as he could muster,

“Hey, hey it’s not going to be that bad, promise.” He carefully watches as you nervously chew on your bottom lip. He raises his large hand to gently cup your face, you instinctively lean into the warmth of his palm. A new, unfamiliar voice pipes up in the back of your head as you get lost in his carmine eyes.

Let go.You’re safe here.

You let go of his wrist to place your hand on top of his bigger one, absentmindedly stroking.

“Just take a deep breath, okay? It’ll be over before you know it.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, you nod and try to relax as he moves his hand back to your thigh. He gingerly wipes the cut, the alcohol instantly seeping in and burning. You cry out in pain, begging him to stop, but he doesn’t listen. He tries to be quick but still efficient, wanting to lessen your pain. He places a large bandaid on it, smoothing it down, and finally, finally, gives in and presses the lightest butterfly kiss on top.

Fuck.

Your bottom lip is poking out, quivering as you do your best to swallow the sob clawing its way up your throat. Angrily rubbing away the tears that escape, you let out a trembling sigh, still trying to get a hold of yourself. Balling your hands into fists on your thighs, you sniffle and bite your lip so it’ll stop its ridiculous shaking. You instinctively berate yourself for how you’re reacting.

You should be stronger than this. What is wrong with you?

The new, sweeter, softer voice comes back to say,

But it’s okay. Because it’s him.

Because it’s him. Because he’s the one who is fixing you, who is choosing to fix you. To be here with you, to choose you, and to love you. And maybe it is okay that you’re ‘weak’ in front of him. It’s safe here. Maybe you were wrong an-

“Do you understand why I’m mad at you?” His voice rumbles out, interrupting your thoughts.

“I-I don’t- honestly, no not really, I did nothing wrong tonight” You try not to roll your eyes at how watery and shaky your voice sounds. Katsuki sets his jaw and slowly breathes in and out of his nose, almost like a bull getting ready to charge.

“How am I going to get this through your head?” He mutters to himself, you roll your eyes in return and give him a pointed look. You know that you shouldn’t be getting riled up, but the exhaustion is sapping away your patience. Logically you know that you should just stop with the retorts, listen to him, and yet,

“Well? Are you going to tell me why you’re mad at me or am I just supposed to be a mind-reader?”

That was the last straw.

“I don’t know how or why you can’t see this,” he starts slowly, mulling over his thoughts, “but the way you handled tonight was...it was...you shouldn’t have pushed yourself that hard.”

“But every-”

“I don’t care that everything else turned out fine!” He raises his voice momentarily, forcing himself to come back down, “I’m not mad that you took care of everything else, I’m mad that you didn’t take care of yourself.” Ruby eyes search your face for any sign of understanding.

“It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks,” he notices how your eyes widen, realizing that he knew your feelings all along. You were mistaken for thinking you ever needed to handle it by yourself.

“You are already strong and you don’t have to prove that to anyone. You don’t owe anyone shit, you don’t need to push yourself to the point of breaking just to show that you can make it there.” He slips his warm, coarse hands into your softer ones, gripping tightly. He leans forward to put his forehead against yours,

“I need you. I need you in my life, and I need you to take care of yourself.” Desperation seeps into his voice, begging you to give yourself the love you deserve. Quietly, he adds,

“For my sake, at least, don’t be careless, dumbass.” He pulls back slightly to look at you, eyes glassy and full of pain. He doesn’t say anything else, letting his words float around in your head. You laughably admit to yourself,

He’s right. I am a dumbass.

Your face is wet with tears, salty drops still haven’t stopped cascading down your skin. You were being foolish, but you didn’t want to admit it, letting your pride suffocate you. You’re sniffling nonstop but still trying to keep your cries as tucked away as possible, your whole body shaking with stifled sobs. He lets go of your hands to cup your face, thumbs wiping away fresh tears.

“You can let it out, you know. You let me.”

You throw your arms around him, clutching him, afraid that he’ll float away from you. Keeping him in a tight, tight, tight embrace, hands collecting handfuls of his shirt. Like a broken record, repeating over and over again, strangled, I’m sorry’s. He hums in response, rubbing circles on your back as he holds you. Unbeknownst to you, he’s thankful you can’t see his tears that manage to slip out, knowing you would only cry harder.

The two of you stay like that until your sobs have subsided. He pulls away, wiping away the rest of your tears and holding your face again. You stare into each other’s tired and bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t want you to be careless anymore. I don’t want you to feel like you have to prove yourself to anyone. I want you to see what I already know, what is already true. You are more than enough, you are more than strong enough, and I need you to see that. Okay?”

Nodding, you whisper,

“I know,” You bite your lip and nod again.

“I know.”

Sometime later, after cuddles and soft voices, you lay in bed, wrapped up in fluffy blankets. Rubbing at the gauze around your arm, you stare at the ceiling, ruminating on what Katsuki said.

He’s right. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone, especially not to assholes who don’t even know me. Next time that I want to be reckless, I’ll just think of him. The one who loves me and knows me.

You close your eyes and smile to yourself.

The one who knows I’m strong.

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cedric-stories · 3 years

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The Ball (Cedric x reader)

Word count: Around 1,700

warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, and idk, they kiss? LOL

Reader pronouns: he/him

Plot: You just got hired to work as a waiter in the castle. (I’m crap at summaries, lol)

Author’s note: This was a request from @pap3r-fl0w3rs . It was my first request ever and I about fell out of my chair when you gave it to me, lol! Thank you so much for asking! I enjoyed writing this so much (even if it took forever for me to finish it, lol). Hope y’all enjoy it!!

The Ball

You were so excited. It’s the first day of your new job at the castle. You had seen an ad in the paper by chance about a waitering job. You didn’t ever think you’d actually get it, but next thing you knew, Baileywick was giving you an interview for the position. It had been a rough few days though. You had to move all your stuff up to the castle by noon yesterday. You were unpacking till 3am. Even though you were sleepy, it was worth getting the extra things done before getting started on your real job.

Orientation started at 8am and lasted till 5pm. Yes, 9 hours of sitting in a plastic chair listening to a gray old man rant about policies was tiring. The only good thing that came out of it was meeting a new friend.

“Hey, can I sit here?” A blond, slender young man asked. He had his arms crossed and looked rather uncomfortable.

“Of course,” you grinned, trying to seem as friendly as possible, “I’d love to have the company.”

He sat down quickly. “Thanks,” he paused then leaned in next to you. “Are you nervous?” he whispered.

“Oh yeah. I’m shaking,” You laughed, lifted your arm up to show him.

He looked comforted by your agreement.

“Yeah. So, what’s your name?”

“I’m y/n, what about you?”

“I’m Tyler, I came from the village.”

“So did I! Where at?”

You two continued talking till the lecture started. After, you walked out into the ball room to begin setting up.

Forks, napkins, plates, and tablecloths were flying everywhere. It was a race against the clock to get everything ready for the big night. Before the actual event started, you had to get changed into something more formal.

Running back to your room, you ripped open your wardrobe to find an outfit. The castle staff had certain clothes you were able to wear for formal events, and since this was going to be one of the biggest balls of the year, you had to follow this exactly. Grabbing your newly ironed, black pants, you slipped them on along with your white button up shirt. You ran your belt through the loops and slapped on your suspenders. You were about to run out the door when you remembered your bow. Grabbing it out of your drawer, you snapped a raven black bow around your neck, fixed your collar, and ran for it.

When you got back to the ballroom hall, you took a left into the employee doors. Fixing your hair, you tried steadying your breath and walked into the kitchen, trying not to appear too winded.

“Once the royal sorcerer sets off the ceremonial fireworks, we will begin serving drinks. We will not start bringing out food of any sort until 11pm. Alright, let’s get ready.” The manager of the serving staff shouted over the clanking of pots and pans.

…

“Everyone, I’d like to thank you for being here,” The King began, standing on the golden ballroom stage.

Your heart was wildly pounding. This was it. This was your big chance to impress the King and staff by how well and efficient you could work. You could actually learn to love this job and living in Enchantcia’s castle would just be the cherry on top. Roland continued on and you were zoned out until you heard the word ‘fireworks.

“My wonderful royal sorcerer, son of Goodwyn the Great and Winnifred the Wise, also known as Cedric the Sensational, will be lighting the ceremonial fireworks with magic this year.”

As the crowd cheered, you saw a figure stepping out behind the curtain. He was average height and had dark hair. You could see he was wearing a long, plum robe with a large, floppy bowtie. His light bangs swayed as he walked up to center stage and his narrow shoulders were slightly scrunched together. Shaking, he took out his wand and said something quietly.

Within seconds, lights spewed from every corner of the room. The Enchantcian colors filled every eye and the guests cried out with joy. One, then two, then the whole room began to applaud in the fireworks’ honor.

Even though the room lit up like a candle, and the fireworks were clear and bright, the only thing you could focus on was that still-shaking man on the stage. You could see him running back and forth, making sure everything was going as planned. He looked to the King with his eyebrows raised and eyes big. King Roland gave him an approving nod in return, and you saw Cedric stand up a little taller. He was adorable.

You noticed him look your way. You caught his glace and locked eyes with him. His eyes were kind and full of a questioning look. You felt your cheeks heat up and you put your hand to your face to hold back a giggle. Suddenly, the fireworks began to crack and rumble.

“Cedric! What is going on?” The king yelled over the crowd’s fearful screams.

“I-nothing, sir! Let me fix it!”

You were horrified and ran to the backroom.

Once you got there, Tyler noticed your concerned look and the way you were gripping the table.

“Dude, are you okay?”

You looked up with a pale face.

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“First off, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Second, you were running for your life.”

You looked up at him.

“Well,” you hesitated, “I was looking at the royal sorcerer and- “

“Wait, like looking like ‘oh, he’s lighting off fireworks’, or looking like ‘oh, that guy’s really sexy’?”

You felt your cheeks heat up again and Tyler laughed.

“It’s okay, we all think people are hot. Okay, now go on.”

“Okay, well, I was checking him out when he looked back at me. We made eye contact for a minute then the fireworks started going nuts.”

“Oh,” Tyler paused, “well, maybe he got distracted by you.”

“What? No-I mean-he’s so him and I’m just a server. We don’t even know each other.” You laughed nervously.

“So? You should try to talk to him.”

“Try to…okay, I will.” You said, nodding your head.

“Good luck.”

Next thing you know, you’re out serving to the guests.

…

You continued to serve guests for around an hour. You reached a group on young women and waited until they had stopped talking to politely interrupt.

“Hello, would any of you care for some drinks?” You asked, trying to sound as polite as possible.

They all looked at each other and smiled. As conversations normally go, two went to reply at once. This stopped both of them from replying and led them to get into a quiet “go ahead” “no, you go ahead” fight until finally they all started too giggle, and all declined the offer. You were about to walk away when you heard footsteps behind you.

“H-hello, I’m Cedric.”

Your shoulders stiffened. Turning around, you saw the same man that was on the stage a few hours ago.

“Hello,” you answered, “my name is y/n y/l/n.”

Cedric stared at you for a moment before saying anything. That moment felt like it lasted a year. His eyes were tightly fixed on yours as you began shifting.

“Are you the same man that was standing by the servant’s doorway? During the fireworks.”

“Yes, I am. I didn’t know if you saw me or not. I was just-um-I thought,” you paused, unable to formulate your sentences correctly. He was so handsome, you had to try your hardest not to get too lost in his looks. “I thought you looked very attractive up there and I guess I was just staring.” You laughed, regretting how forward you had been.

Cedric looked shocked.

“You thought I looked- “

“Yeah.” You cut him off, sighing.

“Y/N! Why aren’t you serving guests? Go back to your job!” You heard your supervisor yell, marching over to you.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was just- “

“I could fire you over this!” He shouted, giving you a menacing scowl.

“Please, I’ll get back to work right away- “

“Actually,” Cedric interrupted, “I think he’s done enough work for the night.”

Your supervisor shot Cedric an infuriated look.

“Cedric, he is my employee, he was employed to work for me.”

Cedric cocked his head.

“Yes, I understand that, but I am above you in my services to this kingdom, so I think you, in a way, are my employee.”

“Cedric- “

“So that being said, you are letting him off for the rest of the night. Understood?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Fine.” The supervisor said, waving his hands in the air and walking off.

You didn’t know what to say. You just stood there, frozen in time.

“Mr. y/l/n, would you care to dance?”

You smiled.

“I’d love to.”

The night was filled with dancing and talking. You began to get to know the sorcerer quite well.

You had guided Cedric out the door towards the gardens by the end of the 2nd hour of the morning. The two of you broke apart and you decided to walk towards the beautiful greenery.

Walking along, you noticed his hand down at his side as you two walked.

“Cedric,” you said in a questioning tone.

“Yes, y/n?”

“Can I hold your hand?”

Cedric’s eyes widened.

“If you’d like to.”

Without waiting another minute, you reached down and slid your hand around his. It was a weird feeling. You didn’t expect his gloves to feel cold and apparently, they were made of leather.

Finally reaching a lush, secluded place, you stopped walking and looked up at Cedric.

“So, is it just me or is there something between us?”

You laughed nervously.

“Well, I don’t know,” you slid your arms around his waist, “you tell me.”

Cedric leaned in closer to you, pressing his body against yours.

“It would seem that maybe the two of us have some kind of- “he was cut off when you closed the gap.

A soft kiss began, slowly continuing as you lifted a hand up to meet his cheek. You felt him shift, repositioning your other arm to wrap around his neck. Things began to heat up when you opened your mouth to see how he’d react. He was hesitant as first but gave in to letting your tongue enter.

A few minutes had passed, and now you two had found a spot on the ground, you are hovering on top of him.

Breaking the kiss, you looked into his hazel eyes and smiled.

“I think this should become a new habit of ours.”

He leaned up to kiss you again.

“I believe that’s a wonderful idea.”

Author’s note: so funny story. I don’t have someone to read any of my fics before I post them. This one meant a lot to me, so I decided I’d try my best not to have so many problems with my misspellings and grammar. To help make sure it flowed, I decided to turn on the read aloud setting on my document (I use Word to write my fics), and it was read to me in such a choppy, dry voice I was laughing my head off the whole time! Think of the most boring teacher reading a Cedric x reader fic! I think I’m gonna use it more often. It helped with the flow, but it also gave me a little happiness in the middle of these trying times. Love y’all! Hope you liked this!

I want to post again soon, but honesty I don’t know when. I had a few things in the works that I really couldn’t connect to. I have new ideas, but I haven’t even written outlines yet

#Cedric the sorcerer x reader #cedric the sensational x reader #Cedric the sorcerer #this was so fun #new writer still #probably needs editing #x reader #love you guys #fluff #fluff fluff fluff #i love the fluff lol #i cant click the post button #i will come back and edit again #this is how i learn lol

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 3 years

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Those Shoes (Ch.1)

Notes: The title is referenced to a song by The Eagles, it’s a classic song about exotic dancers, as well as a popular song to play in the clubs. Rita, or @youtubequeens and I brainstormed this piece, and I was so excited to finally write it :3

Warnings: Language, Exotic Dancers and their life, talk about sex, Trigger Warnings!!!: Mentions of and non-consensual acts such as groping and touching, and other horrors.

Notice: Dancers should be treated with respect, and this is not a fic to downgrade them, nor to spread false truths. It sheds light on what can and does happen in real life, and how that it can be a dangerous job. The warnings are here for a reason. Thank You.

“Honey, I neeeeed your help!” Your mother whined through the phone. You sighed loudly as you sat on the bed. You’ve just finished with a hefty amount of homework, two tests, and you had another coming up, soon. Not only were your friends squealing that they need to celebrate your upcoming graduation, but your mother had called you, needing something. Again.

“Before you hang up!” She started as your thumb hovered over the red button. “I know that you’ll be graduating college, soon, and you’re needing a job, asap, sooooo, I was wondering if I could hire you, soon?” She baited, and you felt a chill of dread down your spine.

“No way in hell.”

“Oh, Come on! You know that you’ll need a job! I can’t find decent hire, anywhere. How about I hire you until you find a better job? Please? These outfits need to be patched up, and I need makeup expertise! Other than my own!” She added.

You felt your stubborn nature wilt as common sense pile drove in. Your mother was a crafty, sneaky, snake, and she knew that you were needing money to make end’s meet, especially when you were about to move to a better apartment. There were good businesses waiting to hire, and some even were willing to sponsor you, but of course it could take months until you could officially land a good job.

Unfortunately, your mother knew this.

“Above minimum wage, and I get to wear what I want.”

“Deal.” She didn’t even hesitate.

“Fine. I’ve got tests…and the girls are throwing me a surprise party, of all things at the end of the month, so I’ll see you when I see you.” You breathed out, and your mom giggled.

“Oh, a surprise party? Maybe I could send-”

“Mom, no.” You blurted out, and she laughed.

“Oh, my baby girl!” She cooed. “You don’t need physical experience to enjoy-”

You clicked the red dial, ending the call as you sighed with defeat. How did your life turn out like this? More than likely, she’ll gather your small group of friends and convince them to try to get you to loosen up. It was not only your graduation day, but also your birthday, coming up.

Your mind froze with fear at the memories of past birthdays. After you’ve turned eighteen, she tried multiple times to send out one of the male dancers, scantily dressed in an ice cream sundae uniform, holding a card that basically said “to pop your cherry”.

Yeah, you didn’t really had any contact with her, really.

…………………

“Surprise! Happy Graduation and Birthday, Girl!” Your friends screamed with joy as you entered your apartment. Finally. After years of hard work and several job offers that will get back to you within a month, you were a certified beautician with a knack to patch and design clothes. Sure, it wasn’t your first idea of a job, but it grew on you. Dying hair, painting nails, mastering different techniques of applying makeup, and seeing the sparkly eyes of your patients as they admired your hard work, had won you over.

Of course, your mother had a major influence over you. Although you weren’t into dancing, you were happy to practice makeup and help patch up certain outfits. As you grew older, you went with what you knew, and soon, your school had paid for your college due to your good grades, and you made your way up, ever since.

“Oh hey, girls! Where’s the cake?” You wondered, and they wasted no time with mischievous giggles. You stilled.

“What-”

“Don’t worry, Babe! It’ll be here, soon. Try this cucumber Sake!” Rumi grinned as she held out the small cup. The white-haired woman had been your friend since late high school, the only one knowing about your mother’s business back then. She and your other friend, Keigo, had now opened up a pet store. Said man who had bird-like perception wasn’t here, right now, but your more…flirtatious friend, Nemuri, was here with her girlfriend and your attention-seeking friend, Yu. Both girls had worked for your mother, and although you were close, you were weary of their similar antics.

“You’re hiding something.” Your eyebrows furrowed. Nemuri smiled coyly as she slung an arm around a giggling Yu.

“It wouldn’t be called a surprise if we weren’t.”

“True.”

The four of you had cut up and were laid back, enjoying small talk and stories that you all missed out on. Nemuri and Yu were doing great with the future wedding funds, Rumi had admitted that Keigo was trying his best to win over some goth from Hot Topic, and you, well, you were still doing the things that you loved to do, despite a busy schedule. Rumi smiled, knowing fully well that your more secretive hobbies had leaned towards being more humanitarian, despite your busy schedule.

You wanted to do things that you wanted to do, not gain attention from them, yet your close group of friends had known of your little skits: Feeding not only stray cats, but taking time to volunteer to help with the homeless and the orphanage. The conversation had quickly turned to about working at the strip club, and you were relieved that the subject had changed.

“Ugh. I hate it when they get up. They’re suppose to sit, and be obedient.” Nemuri huffed.

“Isn’t that against the regulations?” You wondered, and Yu nodded.

“Yeah. I heard that one girl in the private room was far into her dancing, she didn’t notice the guy standing up. Luckily there’s cameras, and so when the staff noticed that he pulled his dick out, they broke into the room and threw him out. Hah, he didn’t get his cash back or anything.” She finished, and you couldn’t help but feel sympathy.

You weren’t raised in the club, but your mother had told you plenty of stories, and dropped off the outfits or brought home a “dummy” to practice makeup on while she told you to never let your guard down. It wasn’t until you were nineteen when you fully knew what she had meant as you were working as a hostess at her building.

Although you were dressed in bartender clothes, it didn’t stop anybody from trying to make a grab at you. You were lucky that your mother had hired good bouncers, and she herself was like a tiger who prowled upon those who didn’t belong there.

“That’s awful.” You admitted, and Nemuri nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. It’s especially gross when you’re giving them a lap dance, and you feel something gross and sticky on the back of your thigh.”

“Or when they kept saying that ‘you’re too pretty to work here’. I know I’m pretty, and I want the attention and attraction to work here. Just because I dance, doesn’t mean that I’m easy. I’m in a committed relationship for six years, thank you.” Yu bantered back while Rumi and you listened quietly.

“You girls go through a lot. Damn. Poor birthday girl had to wear a miniskirt while handing out food and drinks.” Rumi piped up, offering to say what she knew about the subject. Nemuri sighed.

“I remember that when Yu and I first started. Her mom’s not too picky when it comes to help, especially when it’s low pay and her own kid. Like a lamb in a den full of lions, I tell you. Luckily our ladies and gents knew how to swoop in to the rescue.” She finished, and you felt yourself blushing.

Everyone jumped as the doorbell rang, and you watched the Grinch-like grins spread on Nemuri and Yu’s faces, as Rumi let out one that was almost feral.

“Cake’s here.” They said, and you couldn’t help but feel a case of dread as Nemuri didn’t hesitate to waltz over there, and sling the door open, and you couldn’t help but to swallow thickly.

“You did not.” It was a whisper that died on your throat.

Of course you should have known. Of all things-

He stood in the middle of the door, holding a prettily frosted cake, but it wasn’t the cake that caught your attention.

Tall, blond, muscles, was sporting thin square glasses that were about to fall off of his nose, a sleeveless white vest with a loosened tie and one button undone. His pants were no better, the zipper and buttons were undone as it snagged nicely on his hips, leaving a blond treasure trail for the world to see, and of course, sleek black and orange high heels that looked as if they cost more than your rent.

“I’m here to teach our Birthday Girl a lil’ lesson.” Came out the smooth purr as he twirled a red sucker in his mouth, and damn it did that not help you. You hated to admit it, but he was the handsomest ones that you’ve ever seen, and of course you knew who sent him. Pretty amber irises stared at you, drinking you thoroughly as if he was silently contemplating something.

“Name’s Fatigue, Sugar.” He grinned, lolling the sucker within his mouth as Nemuri took the cake from his hands and set it down on your living room table.

“Don’t work our girl too hard, Tai. Poor thing gets a little flustered, easily.” She giggled, pinching your cheek rather playfully. You gave her a small glare despite that your ears were burning, now. Tai, or “Fatigue”, let a slow, lazy smile stretch his face as he looked down at you with a cocky look mixed with hunger.

“Jus’ sit back an’ relax, ‘nd enjoy the show. You deserve it for workin’ so hard.” He cooed with what seemed to be affection, and you swallowed thickly and nodded. Sure, you could do this. Giving an affirmative, he didn’t give you much time before he took out his phone and pressed some button, instantly music had started playing as he started.

He was like a magnet, snapping your attention to him in awe as he spread his legs wide, letting himself sink low to the floor, heels perfectly grounded into your carpet as his glasses stayed neatly perched on the crook of his nose. He grinned at your amazed stare, as if eating it up. Of course he had a bag full of tricks, and you couldn’t believe that you were finding yourself eager to know each one.

He didn’t fail to deliver, hopping back up with a dive of his hips, sliding a hand down to the side of his pants, palming his thigh as he bent low, ass in the air. Each movement was in sync with the beats, and was absolutely filthy as he used his body to curve and twist into movements that oddly made you feel hot and your throat dry. Who was he? Where did your mom even find somebody this good?

Your friends were no better. Rumi had sported a look of stupor, and to your own surprise, Nemuri and Yu looked impressed, a rare sight for you knew that their technique was high dollar and quality, too.

He was all over you, not touching, but close, not letting you take your attention away from him as he ran his hands close to his hips and inner thighs, his sharp focus was only on you as he gauged your reactions, seeing which little movements brought a spark to your eyes or a flush to your face.

Then, like his routine, he did another unexpected move. Taking your cake, he set it neatly on your lap. Not giving you time to really question anything, he gingerly took your hand, dipping your fingers into the frosting, and brought it to his mouth.

Hot. You couldn’t help but feel hot all over as your lips burned on how he licked and sucked at the frosted digits, lolling his tongue over each one as he gave you such a dirty, heated look, and you swore that you heard him groan. Or was it you? You couldn’t tell as he gave your digits one final suck, letting go with a wet pop as the last song ended.

“Delicious.” He purred, and you couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip at how he sounded it.

“Holy shit.” Nemuri broke the silence.

“Language, young Missy.” Fatigue tutted, waving his finger at her, laughing lightly as she gave him one of her own, before turning his attention back to you.

“Didja enjoy the dance, Sweetling?”

“Yeah.” You admitted in choked voice, and he gave a small laugh of affection as he walked towards the door.

“You have a Happy Birthday. I do hope that I can see ya, again.” He gave one last final look at you that you couldn’t decipher, as he headed out.

Silence enveloped you girls, before Yu started laughing.

“You were so blushing! He looked as if he wanted to eat you up!” She noticed, and you could feel your lip starting to hurt from biting it constantly.

“Woah, did he even know that you’re the boss’s kid?” Rumi asked, and Nemuri shook her head.

“Nah. We hired him yesterday, and her mom didn’t say anything, other than that she had a very special job for him. Heh, I didn’t know that the new meat was this good.” Nemuri explained, staring at her nails.

“’I do hope that I can see ya, again’.” Yu mimicked before giggling with glee. “Somebody’s has taken a shine to our homebody.” She grinned and your face flushed with realization.

“I gotta go see my mom.” You blurted out, instead, and was rewarded with grins and knowing smirks.

“It’s so cute how you’ve finally began to open up, my little touch-starved Chickadee. A stripper, of all things, huh?” Nemuri laughed at the irony, and you couldn’t help but join.

“I guess that it’s time to admit that I don’t have to live my life as the Lone Wolf, anymore.”

“And finally get laid, right?” Yu said it ever so casually, and you rolled your eyes.

“Ah, leave her alone. It’s nice that those brick walls are falling down.” Rumi grinned, slinging an arm around you and you smiled.

“It’s getting late, ladies. I got to see my mom early, tomorrow. Before you leave, take some cake with you.” You admitted.

“Will do! I’ll tell her that the new guy had done the impossible, by gaining your heated stare.” Yu giggled as she wrapped an arm around Nemuri’s waist.

“Hah, Kei’s gonna have a laugh at this.” Rumi smiled as she got up, leaving for your kitchen to grab the plates and forks.

….………….

After cake was cut and eaten, and the girls hugged you and kissed your cheeks before heading out, you were now laying on your bed, face flushing furiously as your heartbeat quickened. A stripper of all things shouldn’t have done that to you. You grew up with your mom’s flirty attitude towards strangers, and from an older teen, had been working in the club in a vest, shirt, and miniskirt with low heels, being constantly flirted with.

You didn’t know what made him to be so different, but like a magnetic connection, you were pulled, and despite you loner, homebody attitude, you kind of did wanted to see more of him.

…………..

He sighed, slipping off the expensive shoes as his feet and body ached for a hot shower. She didn’t know him, but he knew somewhat about her. Although the two of them shared the same college, he’d never shared a class with her, and she had lived in the apartments that was near, but not the dorms. Yet, he seen her almost everyday while either to or from his way to classes, work, or in general.

She tried to hide it, but he knew of the little empty cans of tuna near the dumpster that kept the stray mother cat and her kittens fed, was from her. He could hear her cooing to this day, smile rivaling the sun, as she looked down at the bunch with a touch of softness, not noticing the world around her as he took the same route past the alley every day.

Of course, he was a little intrigued. He had a sweet tooth, and despite his refusal in ever taking a bite, he wanted to drink in on what this strange woman was doing. He knew that she was busy, if the bags underneath her eyes indicated anything, and yet she still took time to do small and big things. Picking up littered cans and tossing them in the recycling bin, helping struggling students study, and he’d even seen her face at the soup kitchens, pouring generous amounts of soup into the bowls which were held in the hands of the hungry.

All around. She was all around and yet tried to make herself small and trivial. Others didn’t really notice, but he did. He couldn’t help it. Like a little magnet, she pulled him in, and she was unaware of it. Honestly, he felt like a stalker, yet he knew that he wasn’t. She was just…all around. Existing, helping, laughing, and smiling. It cut through a crack in his dark little world.

Of course, then she graduated, and he was surprised on how much he had missed her laughter, the softness in her eyes as she handled the kittens or gave out food. He didn’t know her. Didn’t speak to her, never went to the same classes, and yet, he felt a little empty when she was gone. It boggled and irritated him.

The literal icing on top was when he had finally gotten hired, the smirking woman telling him that he had a special job, and he couldn’t help but look in surprise at the address. The same door number that he seen her excitedly rush out from while he was on his way to class, was written on the address sheet with instructions. He had already met her friends, who were surprising her on her birthday. To be honest, he was surprised that the woman had friends such as Nemuri and Yu, but he didn’t question it further, as he felt the excitement build up.

Then, he couldn’t help himself when the two of them had finally met. He suppressed a shiver. He had a no touching rule. He didn’t want to touch, and he didn’t want to be touched, but something broke in him. He wanted to be touched by those shy inquisitive fingers, wanted to be stared at so innocently, and yet so dirty, and he couldn’t help himself. She was so sweet, and he didn’t mind letting himself having a taste, for once.

He really did hope to see her again

…………

#Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fatgum x reader #exotic dancer fic #He wears heels in this #Mutual pining #Love at first sight #His weight is up to the imagination #I love our round boy

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startwithbrooklyn · 3 years

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THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / SEPTEMBER 12, 2019 // the kidnapping

okay yall heres this! see you in two weeks! 🥳

-ik george called everyone to help but i get such a thrill from people asking nancy for help bc they know she can do it. (its a real contest sometimes between nancy over-inserting herself into peoples business bc she thinks she knows better vs her actually being the one to call)

-maybe an interesting facet to nancys tendency to lack emotion comes from mystery solving- being able to stay calm and objective when people like george are frantic and anxious. think rationally. search for clues. follow logical footsteps. this is where her predicting human behavior scientifically and not socially prevails. you might think youre behaving rationally but it takes a cold clocked brain to really do it (the 'wall' that carson mentioned)**

-owen is so cute lmfaoooo

-once again bess's particular attention to detail wins the day

-they totally stole this sharpie + back of menu thing from victoria

-wonder what gomber asked for from simon

-chief has absolutely zero hesitation to sharing things with nancy now lmfaoooo

-"just dont slow me down" all im picturing is nancys face when carson says how bout a father juxtaposed with s2 ryan and carson stalking her and pretending to hide in their car when they got caught

-"commentary rescinded" lmfaoooo we all judge him for the weekend sweater vests but he is undoubtedly the most capable character on this show for taking care of a kid

-"your memory is relentlessly specific" would honestly hate to be raising that kid lmfaoooo no winning arguments here. thats probably why carson is the way he is though, soft, small, open and unguarded - no reason to start arguments. perfect calm happy family

-okay lbh. was karen a dick for snooping in nancys room y/n?

-nancys face when carson offers advice on the phone call lmaoooo

-**so now wonder if that "calm" carson mentions as a survival mechanism is manufactured. that would be an intereting parallel to s2 premiere when nancy confesses to the wraith that shes afraid. then with nancys constant conflict of wheter to engage with mysteries or not when they are such a part of her is brought to scintillating focus if we consider this cold clocked calm during panic is actually based in something painful and tragic, and the real truth is that nancy is too afraid to even solve mysteries anymore (afraid of what tho? herself? hurting others? her own mystery-solving ability?)

-carson still has his supernatural nope hat on

-her frustration with her "memory in pieces" become so much more interesting considering it as a control mechanism- nancy is obsessively in control of what shes thinking and feeling and executes that control firmly in pretext of solving mysteries - she controls and solves them, they dont control her. like cancer was "the mystery she couldnt solve" and she just spiraled from there. like in the first ep she says "it was more than just a hobby, it was part of who i was" past tense. shes trying to reclaim parts of her identity that she thought were unshakeable, like mysteries and who her parents are, yet these parts of her identity that she still picks up and engages with turn out to be destructive both to herself and those around her. does her ability to draw the line differ? like the mysteries are a comfort/lacking stillness to avoid dealing with emptiness: did mysteries always hurt her parents/friends/others when she was younger, and she just never noticed because their lives werent permanently damaged like nancys picking apart these secrets did?

-"superstitions and rituals are all part of human behavior, its not proof of something inhuman" -discuss 🧐

-this ep and that hug made me ship george/nick

-love this bess/owen bonding time 💙

-love the contrast between nancy rejecting nicks help to george with "my trucks outside" (THE TRUCK omg foreshdowinggggg)

-damn casting did a good job finding a creepy bitch to play moira (shes sooooo weak tho lmfaooo)

-wonder if mcginnis can sense anything when gombers arm starts to bleed

-"TED!" "...yeah?" 😰😴🤦🏼‍♀️😂

-wonder what a relief nicks help is to george when even her own mother cant help her

-love this branch swinging bit for nancy. one hit for every memory taken! reminds me of our good ole tazer ep. and loving these physical outbursts from nancy.

-carson saying "i'm here" just like he did on the bluffs 😭

-UNPOPULAR OPINION: "just out of curiosity..." and gomber indulges her! what an interesting weirdcreep nancy/gomber (+simon as an extension) for a what if scenario. "i can still smell him on you" 👀...something about the children who were chosen first as little girls that come back as grown women (like an addiction/cant stay away/been marked/curiosity)

-owen holding bess's coat for her 🥺

-"we can enter our homes justified tonight" nancy would love that.

-irony: asking where kate will be in heaven bc lucy never made it to heaven/stuck as a ghost in purgatory (and why nancy always feels so lost bc she cant find kate bc kate's not hers)

-nancys old notebook is the same blue just like her blue car 💙😚

-mcginnis reaches out to nancy physically during/after carsons handcuffing by karen but just barely makes contact- so physical after meeting with mcginnis/him saying "work together" and seance/ceremony - now that opposing forces of mcginnis' law and nancys ability to get results have mixed and "been resolved" - emotional conflict nullified which allows for more genuine emotion/"paternal" instinct of older man-younger woman dynamic to come through (ironic since her actual parent is getting carted away)

and lastly

-"tell them you didnt kill her!" karens look at carson when he doesnt/cant say anything speaks volumes.

#brooklyn's ND primer #nancy drew cw #the Great Rewatch of 2021 #you best start believing in ghost stories miss drew - you're in one

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Everyone Deserves Love chapter 15 (Finale)

A/N: This is it! This is the finale (besides another bonus chapter that has nothing to contribute to the story)! First off, I want to thank everyone who has read this story! It’s still one of my favorite stories, and I read it often. Second, I may add a bonus chapter, depending on s22, who knows?

The beginning of this starts off before the last bonus chapter, but will move past it. It starts off as Devon first gets home from the hospital.

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Tags: smut, p in v sex

Words: 3569

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @evee87 @dianilaws

The first weeks weren’t bad, especially because Barba had taken time off work. At first, he had forced Devon to stay either in bed or on the sofa while he took care of her; making food, refilling her water, making sure she took her meds. But Devon couldn’t live like that; she needed to get up and move around. So, Barba stopped complaining when Devon came into the kitchen to watch him cook, kissing his cheek as he moved around the stove. Nor did he complain when she continued her morning routine of making coffee, somehow figuring out how to work the French press with one hand, something Barba had previously thought impossible. But the real test of this arrangement was the first day he went back to work.

“I could always take another day,” he had said, concern in his bright eyes.

Devon smirked at him. “Babe, I love you so much, but please, for my sanity, go to work.” She gave him a quick kiss and he left, promising to call when he wasn’t in court, just to check in.

This is where it started getting rocky for Devon. She was going crazy with boredom being stuck at home. Even after the sling was taken off and physical therapy started, Jenkins wasn’t allowing her to come back to work, not yet. And any time she showed up at SVU, Olivia turned her right around, making one of the detectives drive her back home. So, she was stuck in her home-turned-prison, trying to think of something, anything, to do. She thought about taking some sort of class—cooking, sewing, cake decorating—but she was afraid that she couldn’t do any of those things with one arm, and her left was still all but useless. She couldn’t even hold her phone to her ear.

“I hate feeling so useless,” she said to Barba one night over dinner.

He looked at her, swallowing his food. “You’re not useless, Cariño. You’re healing; it takes time.”

“Too much time, if you ask me; I’m going nuts here, Rafi. Jenkins won’t allow me to do anything, Liv sends me home like a child. I…I don’t know what to do.” She hated that tears were in her eyes. Maybe Liv was right, maybe she was a child.

Barba took her hand in his, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “I know you hate this, mi amor. It’s only for a little while longer; the therapist said that you should be getting use of your muscles back in the next coming weeks.”

“And until then?”

He lifted her hand gently, the light glinting off the plain silver band on her ring finger, catching her eye. She smiled at the engagement ring; she did every time see looked at it, remembering Barba’s face as he knelt in the hospital room by her bed.

“Until then, you’re just going to do your best, working hard to get your arm back to its pervious strength. I know it’s frustrating, Cariño, but you’re going to survive this. You’re going to be stronger than ever, because you’re Devon fucking Motely, and I’ve never met anyone stronger than you.” He kissed the back of her hand, then put it back on the table.

Her heart strained. “How the hell did I get so lucky to have found you in that shitty cop bar?”

“I ask myself the same thing about you every day,” Barba replied, eyes flashing.

Devon smiled at him. She still hadn’t told him that she was planning on retiring from the FBI; hell, she hadn’t planned on how to do it yet, either. And judging by the fact that she couldn’t find anything else to do in her copious free time, she wasn’t sure if she even could retire. If she could bring herself to leave. What if I just step down, do office work? She thought for the hundredth time. Transfer to computer crimes or something? But could she really see herself doing that? Sitting at some desk while others went out and took down the bad guys? She didn’t think so.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Barba’s voice broke through her rapid thinking.

Devon glanced at him, his brow furrowing as he tried to read her expression, and she sighed. She didn’t want to bring it up, not until she had a plan. But she couldn’t lie to him, either.

“I was…I was thinking of leaving the Bureau,” she mumbled, unable to make eye contact. They sat in silence for a moment, Barba not quite sure he had heard her correctly.

“Where’s this coming from?” he finally asked, then he almost whispered, “because of the shooting?”

Devon looked at him then, his eyes conveying such sadness; she knew that he’d support her decision, no matter what. But he also knew that she loved her job. And she knew that he still blamed himself for her injury, no matter how many times she told him that it wasn’t his fault.

“No, well, yes? Kind of?” she shook her head, trying to find the words. “It’s because you deserve having a wife here, waiting for you when you get home from work. Not undercover in some warehouse, trying not to die. Or lying in a hospital bed, a bullet in me.”

Barba seemed to soak in her words, letting himself absorb them. “When I proposed to you, it wasn’t to get you to quit your job, Dev. I understood then, as I do now, who you are, what you do. If I couldn’t handle that, then we wouldn’t be here.”

Devon reached across the table, hand cupping his cheek, forcing him to look into her eyes as she said, “this is my choice, Rafi. I know you can handle it. The thing is, I can’t.” They sat like that for a long moment before Barba slowly turned his face into her palm, kissing her skin lightly.

“If that’s how you really feel, then I’ll back you, one hundred percent,” he breathed.

She gave him a small smile. “I know you will. I just…I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do yet, how I’m going to do it.”

Barba reached up, taking her hand from his face and interlacing their fingers. “I seem to remember you being a fairly decent mentor when you were showing me self-defense in the living room.”

Devon’s eyes lit up as she remembered; of course! How could I have forgotten that? “Do you think there’s a market for that? Teaching self-defense?”

“Are you kidding? Set up next to the women’s shelter, and you’ll be busier there than when you were undercover.”

She chuckled, but there was fire in her now, a purpose. She still had to heal from her gunshot wound, but now she could study how to teach, work towards getting certified.

“I love you, you know that?” she grinned at him.

Barba’s eyes flashed as he smirked. “I do know, but I love hearing you say it.”

FBI Headquarters

Friday, April 20th. 8:30am

Devon took a deep breath as she got off the elevator, the short hallway to her boss’s office familiar, yet somehow menacing. She knew it was because of why she was there, that the hallway itself wasn’t different in any way. She swallowed her fear down and made her way to the door.

“Come in,” Jenkins’ voice called as she neared. Steeling herself, she entered, shutting the door softly behind her. Jenkins was at his desk, his usual spot when he was in. He didn’t even glance up as she walked up to his desk, standing expectantly rather than taking her normal seat across from him. “Motely?” he asked, still looking at whatever paperwork he was focused on.

“Sir, I’m…I’m here to put in my retirement,” Devon said in the most confident voice she could muster. No point beating around the bush. Besides, if she didn’t say it right now, she was afraid that she never would.

That made Jenkins pause. He put his pen down gently, raising his eyes to look at the agent standing before him. A fresh wave of nervousness washed over Devon as his grey eyes bore into hers. He glanced down for a moment, eyes catching the silver band on her finger before flicking back to her face. He let out a breath.

“I knew that this day would come soon enough,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. He stood then, coming to his full height. Jenkins wasn’t a huge man, but his presence alone made him seem much more than he was. He came around the desk, standing right in front of Devon. A rare smile broke across his face. “Congratulations on the engagement, Motely,” he said, placing a warm hand on her uninjured shoulder, giving her a loving squeeze.

Devon smiled back but was still a little anxious. “So, you’re not mad?”

The smile was gone instantly. “Mad? Of course, not; I knew that you’d be retiring once you got close to that ADA. If the shooting didn’t do it, then I figured a wedding would.”

Now Devon smiled freely. Jenkins always seemed to know more than he let on. “Well, if that’s the case, could you do me one more favor?”

Apartment of Rafael Barba and Devon Motely

Saturday June 2nd. 10:00am

“Deep breaths, Devon. You’ve got this. You’ve been through much more stressful things than this,” Olivia said, coaching her. Devon struggled to regulate her breathing, trying not to have a full-blown anxiety attack.

“But—but what if I fuck this up? What if I blow this whole thing? Lives are at stake—"

“You’re going to do fine, Dev. I know you are; I’ll be right there with you if you need me,” the Lieutenant promised.

Devon took a few shuddering breaths, trying to compose herself. She looked at herself in the mirror again, eyes roaming over herself. White dress, short train, veil flipped over her long, brown curls. Her and Barba had chosen their wedding day months in advance, had meticulously planned it, and yet Devon still felt unprepared.

“He’s going to lose it when he sees you,” Liv whispered, making eye contact with Devon in the mirror. Olivia was her maid-of-honor, shocking no one. Devon wanted a simple wedding, nothing too fancy. Barba, being the old-fashioned romantic that he was, wanted to go above and beyond. But even more than that, he wanted to please his fiancée, so he let her call the shots. Well, most of them. They were still having a Catholic wedding—mostly for Mama Barba’s sake—and Devon agreed to get a wedding dress, but only if it was less than $5k. They were only allowing family and close friends to attend, and Jenkins, to his credit, had agreed to be the one to give Devon away, since she didn’t have a father.

“Do you think so?” Devon smiled, but it faltered. “Oh god, why are we doing this? Why not just go to City Hall and sign a paper? Why this whole spectacle? Oh god—”

“Devon,” Olivia grabbed her by the shoulders, turning the ex-agent to look at her. “You are going to walk down that aisle, you are going to stand next to your fiancé, and you are going to exchange vows until the priest pronounces you husband and wife, okay? Just—just think about how Rafael is probably feeling right now. I bet you $20 he’s also nervous. And I’ll bet you another $20 that he cries when he sees you.”

Devon smiled at the thought, butterflies in her stomach. “Do—do you really think he’ll cry?”

Apartment of Rafael and Devon Barba

Saturday, June 2nd. 8:49pm

Devon had to remember to give Olivia $40 the next time she saw her…sometime in a month, after Devon and her husband got back from their honeymoon in Europe, which they would leave for on Monday. But right now, all Devon could think of was her husband’s hands on her hips, pinning her to the wall just inside their shared loft, his lips on her neck, sucking on the spot that he knew she loved, moans leaving her mouth, her hands running through his short hair.

“Mmm, Rafi. Slow down, baby; we have all night to consummate our love,” she ground out.

Barba kissed his way up her neck to her ear. “Whatever my wife wants,” he growled, voice husky. A thrill went through Devon when he called her ‘wife;’ she loved the title. He pulled back, locking eyes with her for a moment, the amount of love and affection held in that stare knocking the wind from her, before his lips crashed against hers. Devon wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer to her, her hands finding his shirt collar, unwillingly to let him go until she had to pull away, gasping for breath.

“Husband…my husband…” she panted, voice low. Barba smiled down at her, chest rising and falling rapidly from his own labored breathing, before his mouth restarted the vicious attack on her neck, biting and sucking a deep bruise into her flesh.

“Mine,” he muttered against her skin before moving to the other side and making a new mark. Devon moaned, rutting her hips as best she could, trying to get some sort of friction. She could feel him hardening against her. He drove his hips upwards, grinding himself directly against her core, and she whimpered in his ear, half begging him to touch her.

Barba chuckled. “I thought you wanted to go slow, mi amor?” Even so, he repeated the motion, harder this time. Devon let out a wanton moan, rutting her hips back against him.

“We can go slow in round two. Right now, I just want you—need you,” she pleaded. To make her point, she dragged her nails down his back, just the way she knew drove him crazy. She grinned when she felt his cock twitch against her thigh, a growl deep in his throat.

“Whatever my wife wants,” he repeated. He took her off the wall, carrying her towards the bedroom. But they only made it a few steps before Devon kissed him a little too roughly, tipping Barba off balance. He stepped backwards, trying to catch himself, but the back of his knees hit the loveseat, and he fell onto the cushions, Devon squealing as she fell on top of him. Once they realized where they were, they laughed softly.

Devon’s eyes flashed as she remembered their first night together, murmuring, “can I kiss you?”

Barba chuckled. “Only if I can kiss you back.” Devon smiled sweetly at him before leaning down and kissing him gently. Their soft kiss soon deepened, Barba’s hand on the back of Devon’s head, tilting her so that he had better access to her mouth. Devon readjusted so that she was straddling his hips, grinding herself against him. Barba pulled back, groaning loudly, and Devon took this chance to unbutton his tuxedo shirt, trying to figure out how the hell the cummerbund worked—

“Careful, mi amor. This is a rental,” he said. Huffing, Devon got off him, standing next to the couch. Barba quickly shed his tux, carefully chucking it into a pile on the floor, before sitting back on the couch in nothing but his boxers, bulge straining against the fabric.

Devon reached behind her to start unzipping her wedding dress when Barba put up a hand. “Hold on, Cariño,” he licked his lips, “I want to touch you while you’re in your dress.”

She felt the heat pooling in her core at his words. She walked up in between his legs, and his hands went to her thighs, pushing up the hem of her dress as they travelled to her hips, pulling her down onto his lap, bulge hitting her barely clothed core. She moaned, eyes fluttering as he grinded into her, lips ghosting over her pulse point on her neck. He moved one of his hands from her hips to her panties, shifting the fabric to the side and stroking one finger through her slit.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he growled against her skin, nipping at her neck. His finger circled her clit once, twice, before he moved to her tight entrance, pushing in slowly.

“Holy fuck, Rafi,” Devon whined, head falling backwards in pleasure. He curled his finger slowly, taking his time, watching her reaction to his touch. Nothing turned him on more than having this incredibly strong woman completely crumble from his touch. Slowly, he pushed in another finger, then a third, thrusting at a slow pace, reveling in the feeling of her walls clenching around him. Devon moaned every time he hit her g-spot, fingers digging into his shoulders, trying to stay balanced on his lap. When his thumb moved to circle her clit, adding pressure to the swollen nub, Devon almost blacked out with how hard she came, rutting her hips against his hand, head falling forward, forehead resting against his.

“You’re so god damn beautiful when you come,” he murmured, finger fucking her through her orgasm, her legs trembling in his lap. He pulled his fingers from her, and she slid sideways out of his lap, collapsing onto the couch next to him. Barba stood, pushing his boxers to the ground, letting Devon catch her breath. He knelt in front of her, sticking his head under her dress, grabbing her panties with his teeth, and pulling them down and off her; a lewd mockery of how he took the garter off her during the reception. He sat back on the couch, taking her hand in his, guiding her back into his lap. Devon, using her free hand, stroked his throbbing cock, her thumb spreading his pre-cum along his shaft. He groaned, letting her tease him a little before he stopped her, afraid that he’d cum too early if she continued. Understanding, she guided him to her entrance, tip teasing her open.

“Ready?” he asked.

“For you? Always,” she replied, kissing him deeply. He placed his hands on her hips, slowly pulling her down onto him until he was fully inside her, swallowing every sound coming out of her mouth with his own. They sat like that for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being so completely connected, tongues dancing with each other, drinking each other in. Then, Devon raised up off him until he was barely in her, then she sunk back down slowly. They found their rhythm quickly, moving in tandem, both of them pulling back so that they could lean their foreheads against each other, sharing their labored breaths. Eventually, Barba reached behind her, unzipping her dress just enough that the top fell free. He chuckled darkly when he saw that Devon was wearing a front clasping bra. She gave him a wink, eyes flashing, wicked smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“You know me too well, mi amor,” he murmured, undoing the clasp.

It was Devon’s turn to chuckle. “Good thing you married me then—ohhh,” she moaned as Barba’s mouth latched onto a nipple, nipping and sucking. He increased the pace of his thrusts, angling his hips to hit deeper, while he used the hand on her hip to bring her down harder against him. Using his free hand, he reached between them, rubbing roughly at her clit.

Devon screamed Barba’s name as she came, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving marks. Barba flipped them so that Devon was laying on her back across the couch, Barba on top of her. He pounded into her relentlessly, chasing his own release.

“Cum for me, baby…my husband,” Devon muttered, throat raw from her previous yell. That was all Barba needed; he rocked into her a couple more times before he was spilling deep inside her, her clenching walls milking him for everything he had. He collapsed on top of her, still connected but unwilling to pull himself from her…his wife.

The loft fell silent apart from their labored breathing. Devon’s hands went to the nape of his neck, stroking the soft hairs there, his head resting by her collarbone. Once Barba had caught his breath, he started singing softly, an old love song his abuelita taught him when he was a child, the Spanish falling from his lips easily. Devon’s heart strained; she may not understand all the words, but she could hear the feeling, the raw emotion in his voice. She ran her hand through more of his soft hair, nails scraping his scalp lightly. Once he finished the song, he raised up, kissing her gently before laying back on her chest.

“I love you so damn much…Mrs. Barba…” he murmured against her skin, placing soft kisses on her collarbone.

She hummed in satisfaction. “I love you so damn much, my husband…I will never get tired of saying that.”

“And I will never get tired of hearing it,” he promised. Finally, he pushed off her, standing next to the couch, offering her a hand. “Shall we adjourn to the bedroom? I seem to remember someone mentioning something about a round two….”

Devon shook her head in mock disbelief, taking his hand. He pulled her up, and she allowed her dress to fall off once she was up, shrugging out of her bra. “Fucking sinful, I swear.” Barba chuckled as he pulled her to their shared room.

#rafael barba x oc #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #everyone deserve love #edl #everyone deserves love chapter 15 #edl ch 15 #fanfic #my writing #idk what it is about being called/calling someone wife or husband #but that just fucking GETS ME

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hazbincalifornia · 3 years

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Something Very Special

Chapter 4: A few moments of reflection.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Warnings: Mpreg

Ao3 link

Blitzo prodded at his stomach in front of the full-length mirror in his room while wearing only his pants. It was a bit more obvious without a shirt and coat on that there was a slight bump, especially considering his slender physique. It had been a few hours since the visit with Stolas, and he could still almost feel the owl-demon’s hand against him.

Before leaving, Stolas had insisting on getting to feel his stomach again- it wasn’t sexual, as promised, but it made Blitzo shiver, the gentle way Stolas moved his fingertips over the skin and how he cooed with his eyes glowing brighter than usual.

“They’ll be perfect. I’m so glad you decided to keep them. This will all be worth it, Blitzy- you’re doing something very special.”

He was almost a month through, and there hadn’t been any real side effects yet. None that he’d actively noticed, anyway- he’d been a bit queasy while drinking coffee a time or two and had puked in the bushes on the way home from the bar after work once, but that could have just been the cheap, shitty booze and the fact that he’d been more ‘spinning’ than ‘dancing’ by the end of the night. Loona had pretty much dragged him back to the apartment when he almost passed out anyway- not his fault that the snacks weren’t good enough to waste money on so he ended up drunk way too fast. Ugh, he'd probably have to drop drinking, wouldn't he? Greeeeeeat.

In the other room, Loona was listening to some punk band he couldn’t recognize. He liked the fast, loud sound it had to it though, all the lyrics fuzzed through the walls so it was just the beat. Blitzo drummed his fingers over the bump.

“You’d better not be any trouble, you hear me? The most I want to deal with is people calling me fat or some shit. Maybe I can get something tailored? Might have to ask Stolas about that. I’d hate to be just popping out of everything in my wardrobe, I’ve got too good of a sense of fashion for that and I can’t deny the world me at my best.” He’d need to make a list of things he wanted before but hadn’t been willing to push his luck with Stolas on.

Actually, now that he thought of it... he’d been kind of pushing his luck the last few days, hadn’t he? He’d even insulted Stolas to his face earlier, but the owl had barely even flinched, too swept up in the fact that Blitzo was agreeing to keep the baby. If it meant he could loosen his lips a little outside of the bedroom, Blitzo’d count this as a double success for a while. Maybe that was another side effect- hormones? The inhibitions to not tiptoe around the dude who knocked you up? The one who knocked you up being more lenient himself? Who fuckin’ knew! He’d never exactly asked Mom about what it was like having him and his sisters, he figured nobody who wasn’t about to have kids did shit like that who wasn’t a pervert.

Blitzo’d been playing ball with Stolas for... geez, at least six months at this point? He’d never written it down or anything. It always felt like pins and needles until he either said some dumbshit thing Stolas didn’t find funny that he had to fumble over a half-assed apology for, or Stolas just started getting raunchy right in the middle of the calls he insisted on at least twice a week. At least when the guy got started, most of the time he just burnt himself out with an occasional ‘mhm’ or ‘oh yeah’ from Blitzo, who was getting pretty good at tuning it out. Horny bastard was probably jacking off during half of them too, from the squelches and moaning noises. Weirdo. It was like he didn’t know about porn or something.

But! But, he’d offered to leave actual sex off the table for five full months with the baby thing. It really said how much he wanted this, and it also said that Blitzo was probably going to be able to get away with a lot more than usual if Stolas was willing to forgo their ‘fornication’ (seriously, who used words like that, just say ‘fucking’ like a normal person) for the entire time. Maybe Blitzo could actually get lucky with someone else for once, if he wanted to.

“What do you think about all of this? I figure the weight will be worth not having to worry about him just scooping me up and running off during work hours. And that’s on top of actually having some real good stuff out of our little relationship besides him just not taking the book back.” He paused. “And the sex when we get around to it. That’s usually pretty good.” He turned to Spirit Jr, who was propped up on the bed. The stuffed horse just stared up at him, but he felt fairly sure that the emotion given off was approval. “Very helpful. Thank you.”

“Yo, Blitzo.” Loona rapped her knuckles on the doorframe before pushing the door open, and grimaced before slamming it shut again. “Geez, get dressed first!”

“I’m in my room, just ask first!” He tugged a hoodie on, the oversized fabric completely smothering his frame when he looked down before opening the door again, meeting her eyes. “What is it, honey?”

“Just making sure you were still keeping it.” She held up her phone. “Millie asked and the notifications are getting annoying.”

Blitzo squinted at the screen, and could see that Millie had sent a picture of Moxxie pacing with his fingers laced behind his back.

“Geez, he’s acting like it’s his baby or something. Priss. Yeah, I’m keeping it.” He rubbed an idle circle over the pocket of the hoodie, fingers criss-crossing a star on the inside of it. Of course, it didn’t have much power without the book in the other room.

“I know, just making sure you weren’t changing your mind and trying to cut it out in there.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m only asking because this was the fourth text and she was worried you’d done something stupid. Did you check your phone?”

“Yeah, of course!” He blinked before heading back to where he’d hung up his coat, digging into the pocket before pulling out his phone that was currently flashing with several missed texts. Four long rambling ones from Moxxie, three slightly shorter ones from Millie, and then one each from Loona and Stolas. (Stolas’s was just a series of emojis that Blitzo didn’t really feel up to interpreting, including for some reason several leaves.)

He shot back a text to the IMP groupchat.

Im fine u gyus, dont worry aboutme. Its all good nd im keepingit.

He flopped down on the bed to start scrolling through Voxtagram, and Loona firmly snapped the door shut at the same moment the bed creaked from his weight.

“G’night, Blitzo.”

“G’night, Loonie! See you tomorrow bright and early!” he called back at the sound of her plodding down the hall. “We’ve got another job lined up!”

If he was lucky, maybe nothing else would even have to change.

#daddy blitzo #helluva mpreg #shadow writes stuff #hb #helluva boss #one time

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silenthillbunni · 2 months

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🐇🩹🚪

#i hate myself real bad today.... like it's this constant gnawing feeling in my stomach nd chest #i am such a fucking burden. i am deadweight weighing everyone around me down. im such a fkn pathetic failure #our living situation is rlly bad nd unhealthy nd toxic. im the only one who can disconnect nd shove it all down nd wanna pretend like nothin #but my sister nd my mom are going insane like they cannot stand it anymore. nd they're also getting super depressed so im worried #my mom's been trying to apply for appartments bc she's been on waiting lists for several years so she can actually maybe get one #so they were thinking that my mom nd my sister can move nd me nd my sister can live here #she even found an apartment close by that she would actually get!! so they could move!!#however...... you're not allowed to put more ppl on this contract so if my mom moves me nd my sister can stay here :/// so she cant move....#cant** stay here #she cant move at all unless my sister nd i have our own places...#my sister has a job nd is an actual responsible adult. so she wont be long until she fixes that #but me???? im 25yrs old... never had a job. cant even graduate highschool even if i try. i have no fkn idea how to survive on my own!!!!!#im just a fkn burden on my mom. i keep her down. i chain her down nd keep her feom being free #im such an awful daughter. im such a bad person. im so worthless. i hate myself for hurting her #i hate seeing her so sad nd depressed bc she wants to get out of this situation so bad #and *im* the one keeping her here. im the reason she cant feel better. bc im a pathetic fkn 25yr old who lives off of her mom like a parasit #ooof i ... i hate myself more deeply than i ever have. how can i do this to my own mom???? why am i so useless????#idk what to do. idk how to move out!! where to?? how do u get a place to live??!?#atp i'd even take living with someone else. like renting a room or smth. just to free my mom of the curse that is me #but idk how to find anything like that bc im completely and utterly incapable nd useless #i feel so bad for my mom.... i know she doesnt want this but it makes me wanna kms even more #if im dead i cant weigh her down i cant ruin her life!!!! if im dead she'll be free of me. im nothing but a parasite she deserves to be free

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paodequeijofeliz-blog · 4 years

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Let me tell you a good story

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after Bloodbound 3, here I’m recreating how Kamilah and MC would meet if she had never gone to Raines Corporation right away.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, Kamilah is now a wife and a mother. During a regular family dinner, she decides to tell her daughter and their new son-in-law the story of how she fell in love with Annie after an unusual meeting through the hallways of NYU.

Warnings: none

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Let me tell you a good story - Part 3

March 2nd, 2048 “No way!” Drake leaned back on the chair, laughing his heart out. “You didn’t realize that Ms. K. Sayeed was her??”

“No!!” Anna whined behind her hands. “I found out later.”

“A month later, might we add.” Kamilah was shaking her head judgementally. “You cannot imagine how much fun I had listening to her complaining about the boss, ‘Ms. Sayeed’, right in my office.”

“FOR ONE MONTH?” Drake’s chin fell.

“I… I… Uh, come on! It’s not my fault. She signed her works with ‘K. Sayeed’. How the hell would I know? I don’t google every author I read.”

“But, ma’am, she told you her name was Kamilah right before joining a conference which had for main lecturer a ‘K. Sayeed’.”

“Wait, let me defend her now.” Lysia put a hand on Drake’s arm, suddenly monopolizing his attention. The diamond ring on her finger sparkled against the light. “In Brazil, Kamilah is a quite common name, but not with a ‘K’. It’s always with a ‘C’. She had never met a ‘Kamilah’ with a ‘K’ before. Therefore, she couldn’t link my mom’s name with ‘K. Sayeed’. It’s like someone telling you her name is ‘Kate’ right before going to a conference held by, I don’t know, ‘C. Hudson’. Would you automatically think this could be a ‘Cate’ with a ‘C’?”

Kamilah gave her daughter a proud smile. There was her little genius lawyer showing up. Every time Lysia put on that tone on her voice, so delicate yet firm and confident, the vampire queen would feel the urge to applaud and hug her tight. She grew up so fast. When did my little fairy princess-ninja become a beautiful woman?

“Ok, ok. Now I get it.” Drake gave in, melted by the argument as much as by Lysia’s touch. “Go on. When did you find out? What happened?”

Annie took a deep breath, her face already back to its natural colour. “So, after I basically criticized and called her thesis’s conclusion to be stupid… And laughed at Adrian’s thesis as well… Kamilah just fell in love.”

The woman beside her almost choke on wine. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, please. You got horny cause I had the audacity to criticize your work. No one had done it before.”

“MOM!” Lysia twitched her nose. “Please, do not say horny. That’s not a picture I want in my head.”

“Alright. Your mother felt very… Blissful. She spent an entire week thinking about my gorgeous audacity, until she finally took the courage to invite me out on a date. Actually, to command her assistant to do it.” Anna shot an accusing glare. “Couldn’t do it yourself, huh? Coward.”

Kamilah crossed her legs, avoiding that look. “We could say, if you insist, that I was only being careful to let someone more… Social… Handling the situation. And it wasn’t a real date.”

Annie laughed. “Right. I know you just wanted to see me again.”

August 22nd, 2018

Days were getting a bit too cold for Anna’s taste. She had grown in such a hot city that anything under 25ºC (77ºF) was already considered freezing. Hence why she was wearing heavy pajamas and socks that afternoon, all covered in blankets while eating cookies. It was her day off and Princess Bride was on TV. She had seen it a hundred times, for it was her favourite movie, yet still laughed at the same jokes. One day, months later, Annie would watch it again with her girlfriend. Three years from now, with her wife. In ten years, with her five-year-old child between her legs. But tonight, all she was aware of was a warm feeling on her chest, the urge to see someone she didn’t know how to find.

“Stop it”. She stared at the cookies, scowling. “It was just a random woman. You don’t even know anything about her. She could be a boring ass businessperson.”

“Ahem.” Kamilah interrupted the story, an icy glare coming down at Annie. “I don’t understand why being a businessperson sounds like a flaw in your mouth.”

“Not the point. Hush.”

The movie was about to end when a high sound made Anna jump on the couch.

“Phone! Ok, where is it…” She went looking around the mess of books and papers, until finally finding it hidden inside a pencil case. “Yes, hello. Hi.”

“…Am I speaking to Ms. Anna Mali?”

“Yup, that’s me. Who is this?”

“Ms. Mali, my name is Jacob Lee, I’m… Kamilah’s assistant. She wished to know if you’re available to have dinner tonight, at seven o’clock.”

“Oh.” Annie sank on a chair, confused. “Are you asking me out on a date? I mean, Kamilah. Through you.”

“I’m… Not sure if she would like me to answer that. I was specifically told to call you and set dinner to either tonight or Saturday night. Whatever suits your schedule.”

“Right. Can you put her on the phone, please?”

“She is at a meeting now.”

“Of course.” Annie sighed, disappointed. “Ok. Tonight’s perfect. Where should I meet her?”

“I’ll text you the address. Thank you for your time, Ms. Mali.”

Something was off. Anna stared at her phone, trying to understand what just happened when Lily’s voice appeared from the steamy bathroom. “So, I think now we’ve officially ran out of hot water. What ya doing, girl? Let’s put another movie on.”

“I... Think I might have a date. In two hours.”

“WHAT? Is it the hot woman you met that day? Was it her on the phone?” Lily grew impatient by the silence. “Come on! Give me something here!”

“Yes, I… Lil, okay, listen, this is super important. Help. Me. Look. Gorgeous.”

She took the mission seriously. Without much time to think about it, Lily fetched a nice fancy dress, combed her hair into a loose bun, put on a provocative shade of red lipstick and, finally, struggled against the decision of which coat letting her use. Normally, Anna would wear something warm and heavy. It was 20ºC (68ºF) outside, and for her that was enough reason to burry herself in clothes. But Kamilah would definitely judge it.

“Ok, blood. You better boil in there and keep my friend warm because we’re doing this.” Lily handed her a light and elegant lace coat.

“Is my accent too strong?” she bounced at the doorway, still unsure.

“Yes, and for the hundredth time, don’t let this bother you so much. You speak four languages, for fuck’s sake. If anyone around here mocks your accent again, I’ll kick his ass. Stop worrying and go. Text me if you need rescuing, alright?”

It was 06:45 when she left the apartment. Ten minutes later, her cab stopped at the destination.

“Have a good date, miss!” said the driver.

“Thank you! But… Wait, is this correct?”

“Yes, miss. It’s the address you gave me.”

They were parked outside a huge and beautiful business building. Not the kind of place for dates. Anna walked in with a confused look on her face. A sign on the wall said “Ahmanet Financial”. That’s oddly familiar. The moment she approached the balcony, a young man came to greet her. His voice sounded familiar the minute he started speaking.

“Good evening, Ms. Mali. Kamilah must be down in a minute. Could you kindly wait at the lobby?”

“Hm, Jacob… Right? Jacob Lee.”

“Yes, that would be me.”

“I’ll wait, no problem. She can take her time.”

“No need.” Kamilah’s voice made them jump. She had just stepped out of the elevator. “You can go back upstairs, Jacob. Thank you.”

“Yes, Ms. S… I mean, Kamilah. Boss. I’m going.” The assistant seemed troubled, walking hesitantly away from them.

Anna opened her mouth to ask what the hell happened to him, but she shut it when her eyes noticed the look on the other woman’s face. Kamilah’s stare started on her shoes, slowly climbing the legs covered by pantyhose, passing through the black flowered dress, lingering a while at the neckline and finally reaching the red lips. The Brazilian felt so deeply analysed a shiver went through her spine. Kamilah’s critical eyes weren’t giving away her thoughts. She could be either enjoying or hating the view, there was no clue.

“Good evening.” Anna spoke, both hypnotized and insecure. “Uhm… You… You look gorgeous. Well. Fancy. You look fancy. Let’s go with that.”

Kamilah arched an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “Thank you. May we go?”

“Sim. May. We may.” Annie sighed. “Sorry, sometimes I still struggle against the language.”

“Don’t worry. I am familiar with the feeling.” Kamilah walked back to the elevator without even checking if the girl was following.

“So, you’re not American?” she tried to catch up her fast pace.

“No. I’m Egyptian. But I came here a long time ago.”

Annie kept her silence, well-aware that the woman was staring at her again. Maybe that wasn’t a date at all, but a job interview. Maybe she was being considered to fit a position. No… It doesn’t make sense. My work has nothing to do with all of this. When the elevator doors opened, it was to the entrance of a highly fancy restaurant. A tall hostess came to greet them while another one guided both to an empty table by a huge window.

“Red or white?”

“What?” Anna looked away from the view. “Oh, the whine. White, please. Sauvignon Blanc.”

Kamilah kept her posture, not even glancing at the whine menu. Even though her expression was unreadable, the tone on her voice seemed a little impressed. “You heard the lady, Mr. Kendall. Bring us the best Sauvignon Blanc you have.”

“Right away, miss.”

Anna watched as the waiter left them, suddenly noticing they were the only two clients there.

“How was the other professor’s article?”

“Who?” The Brazilian woman looked down, momentarily searching her memory. There went the fingers entangling again. “Oh. You mean Faith? From that night? It was good. There were a few improvements to do, though.”

“I see.”

Anna smiled as the waiter poured the wine for them. Her hands seemed to hesitate, waiting for Kamilah to drink it first, only then taking a sip herself. After that, her body began to relax, black eyes sparkling as analysing the Egyptian’s features. “How was the lecture? Did you enjoy it?”

“It was pleasant. Some of the speakers were quite good.”

“I actually googled Ms. Sayeed works afterwards, while I was waiting for Faith.”

Kamilah’s lips opened a small smile, her voice showing a hint of curiosity. “And?”

“She has some articles about history I wasn’t aware of. She can be really interesting when is not talking about economics.” Anna taped her fingers together, trying to speak slower so she wouldn’t miss the pronunciation. “I read four of them. Two about history itself. Loved these. She gets the job of the historian in a way only a few do… It’s almost like she can feel the passing of time, our history, differently than the rest of us.”

Kamilah crossed her legs, still amused. “What about the other two?”

“It’s hard for me to criticize it, they were about Egyptian history. I don’t know much of this subject. It was well-written, that’s for sure.” Anna narrowed her eyes, like something was finally connecting. “Wait.”

Egyptian history. Egyptian woman. Ahmanet Financial.

“This place…” She inclined her head, confused. “Is this place hers? Ahmanet Financial?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And you… Are you like… Her partner or something? Do you work for her?”

Kamilah sighed. I cannot believe this. “Well, yes. I suppose we can say that.”

Anna was still blushing. A beautiful tone of pink matching the red lips. “I knew the name of this building was familiar. Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have said all these things if I knew she was your boss.”

“I appreciated the honesty.” Kamilah seemed to become more serious, her smile replaced by a solid face. “Ms. Sayeed… People don’t often say such straightforward thoughts about her work. Although I do disagree with you in many aspects, your opinions were truthful and valuable.”

Annie closed her eyes of embarrassment. Since she was already feeling exposed, why not rip the band-aid off? “Kamilah, is this a date or a professional meeting?”

The woman in front of her laughed for a second. “Oh, dear. You couldn’t possibly handle me on a date. Now… Let’s get down to business.”

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #choices kamilah #bb kamilah #choices: stories you play #choices: bb #yes for me 20ºC (68ºF) is freakin freezing #but that's cause I grew up in the 40ºC (104ºF) city #also accents are cute but ughhhhh I do struggle against mine

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transrightsjimin · 3 years

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more ranting abt welfare benefits hell

sorry for whining so much abt income on here, i know it should just be easy nd solveable by applying more for jobs, but the literal issue is that i have no skills or confidence (latter is according to my friend, but the way i cant envision handling any jobs well is jst the truth??) nd still havent gotten any help from the municipality w getting consulted by someone w more knowledge on the job market nd maybe being pushed to take on shitty jobs that at least perhaps pay better than mail delivery. it’s jst so frustrating how i requested welfare benefits over 4 months ago but it only counted since 3 months ago bc they kept fucking up w the requests, promised a payback for the lost month, but didnt, i believe?? now december we got nothing nd probably also january bc our ‘income was too high‘ for the minimum.

uh i side tracked nd forgot where i was going before, but i meant to say tht HALF A YEAR AGO i also requested help w getting help w jobs but bc bureaucratic bullshit it took until DECEMBER to get the help approved. and they would get me a contact person ‘surely before christmas, don’t worry!‘ and then they didn’t and replied they hadn’t forgotten about me and will surely help soon and i’m just. so fucking anxious about this all??

my parents help me financially w cash they gave (nd some of which came from my grandmas) (nd no im not happy w that bc one of them is doing worse financially but still wants to give it away, nd the other is dead nd my uncle gave her left over money to family which feels ironic bc hes a millionaire but only gives a bit from his dead mom??) so that i can buy groceries bc me and my friend’s paychecks + welfare benefits can only cover rent + food and so not also other bills such as for healthcare that i have to make payment plans for. and even w help w groceries i still end up in the negatives, especially last month bc we ‘made too much‘ to receive something. i dont even dare to sell clothing or anything online for money bc that’d only mean ‘income from hobbies’ they could see i have and thus more reason to get stripped from this too.

and that is just the whole issue!! the municipality runs all these checks and forms and calls and appointments and documents you need to hand in, but there is NO calculation determining what you actually need. instead, based on the type of household, we were categorized as fiscal partners without children who receive the benefits together and thus we receive benefits (in the months that we do) to add it up to the ‘living minimum‘ €1500 in total. this amount does not cover our actual expenses, nor does this match inflation or how social housing has been broken down as a system and that real estate owners can increase rent prices as much as they want. there is a monthly grant that tenants could receive for renting a home, but only if it is an apartment AND below 752,33 euros per month (which is when it is considered social housing, above that it’s the ‘free market‘), and that is just virtually impossible?? but we were not once asked if we can actually pay anything and the people meant to help us w benefits just don’t fucking get flex work contracts or how our income over a certain month is received way later in the month after that. like they have a stable job and just dont fucking get that it is not designed well for us.

i think my anxiety over this issue has gotten worse ever since the news came out that a dutch woman on benefits got a €7000 fine because her mom did groceries for her and that’s considered fraud??!! she couldn’t afford food so her mom bought groceries for her but that is also considered financial compensation and thus she got this huge fine, which she probably cannot afford and the fucked up thing w fines from institutions is that they ask interest over it if you don’t pay it in time or enough of it, and give more fines and even charge fees for something like you receiving a letter and they’re just free to pull this shit bc it’s a for-profit business. and that’s how ppl end up w debt and huge loans. it’s just so infuriating nd i really dont want a fine or lose the right to benefits. even though i prob wont get it for a while bc of my friend’s job that tends to make our incomes together reach just the ‘living minimum‘. i have this bill of €250 for adhd diagnosis, then monthly bills for meds that are €76 of which i can receive most back and ‘only’ need to pay €25 from it, then theres an orthodentist bill of around €92 bc i forget this insurance company still counts from back when i was w it the first time nd orthodontist stuff gets insured up to €1000 and that amount was used up like 10 years ago nd they still count like that despite me having had a different insurer in between.

i just need a stupid fcking job nd i hate to whine abt this bc theres so many ppl in much worse situations who ‘take initiative‘ nd start looking for jobs, but AGAIN i have no ‘basic’ skills like being able to listen and understand words well nd fast or show the right facial expressions or have good memory or dexterity or be able to answer difficult questions or focus on reading etc etc, nor do i i have an idea what job i should or could do.like i fcking need an income, moreover i need a break, im in this fcking burnout since like 2013 and in depression since at least 2004 lmfao but it’s never been recognized as bad enough by specialists bc im not suicidal, but it’s also not good to the point where i ever know if i felt ok. also just. i feel like i did use to have a bit more confidence in myself in high school but it all got sucked out of me in art college (bc horribly bigoted teachers + students and being taught that drawing well is in fact not at all important in the domestic market but rather being INNOVATIVE and NETWORKING and also COPYING is the way to success!! like not kidding, thats what teachers told us) nd by my parents (bc i became older nd didnt spontaneously do all these chores or jobs despite having no fcking clue how bc they never taught stuff). like i just dont know how ppl live comfortably w themselves and know what its like to be themselves nd not feel bad nd anxious abt everything

#rambles #family stuff #death mention / for grandma #this is a long rant im so sorry thisis a mess

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conelly · 4 years

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( luke hemmings, twenty-two, cismale, he/him ) did you see BYRON CONELLY walking down main street earlier? you know who i’m talking about, they’re a DECKHAND. everybody in town says that they’re SANGUINE & NONJUDGEMENTAL, but have a tendency to be IMPRESSIONABLE & VOLATILE too. BYRON has been in town for ONE AND A BIT years. c'mon, they’re always requesting SWEET CAROLINE by NEIL DIAMOND at karaoke nights. well, i’m sure you’ll see them soon! ( ooc: sunny, 22, she/her, est )

hi thanks for tuning in, SUNNY here to tell you all a lil bit about westmere’s very own new nd improved favorite loser below. sorry for this summary being all over the place, it’s kinda how my brain works heh which is kinda perfect bc byron will for SURE be all over the place too ( u can rly tell at a certain point i was like ok i give up + i’m posting mf ). let me know if u have any questions about ‘em and most importantly, lmk if you would like to plot a lil connect or sumn 😙

@westmerestarters

FAMBAM + BACKGROUND

born 14 years after the elder conelly ( wanted brother connect !!! ) entered this word to two parents who didn’t seem to read the job description, it was clear that byron wasn’t planned. and down the line, he’d soon realize through the tumultuous household he was brought up in - perhaps never even wanted.

byron’s parents had one constant - and that was fighting. over anything, all the time. there just wasn’t any love between the two and they stayed together for whatever meaningless reasons until byron hit middle school. ( there might’ve been a super short lull in toxicity once byron was born, but it had to be short as his first memories are nothing shy of toxic. ) it was a messy separation ( they never paid the full legal fees for a full divorce ) - his father moving to the coast of nj & his mother moving to a smaller apartment nearby her own mother ( which, due to the negative relationship among his mother + grandmother, also called for more tension ). he’d often be dropped off @ his grandmother’s house for baby-sitting or when he was ‘ becoming too much to handle. ’ eventually his grandmother moved into his cousin’s house ( MONROE ) and although grateful he made a practically new brother, similar tendencies of feeling unwanted occurred when byron noticed their grandmother praising and coddling and favoriting monroe just a bit more.

( his mother was a struggling addict ( and had been her whole life ), but the loneliness, newfound pressures and whatever excuse she was able to name caused her drinking to spiral worse than byron remembered ( even at his young age ) before. )

( his father was rarely in his life, but when he was, he was THE coolest. always played good cop in any situation regarding his mother, despite choosing not to have an active role in byron’s life. byron looked up to him like no other. when he WAS around, he taught byron how to surf, skateboard, play sports, they’d play video games, they’d eat junk food - honestly anything that byron wanted to do. his dad was an adrenaline junkie and created the stepping stones for byron to be one too. he was a marine biologist & pretty successful at that. passionate, intelligent, but seemingly finding his newfound life a lot better than his previous - which is why he never wanted byron to stay too long, the boy reminded him of her, of the past. )

( his older brother moved out of the house when byron was just a lil kid, they’re not very close and don’t have much in common ... or so it seems. he lives in nyc and they only talk here and there on holidays. he was never a huge part of his life, but it does bum him out to think what could’ve been / could be. )

TO GET THE GIST

due to never receiving the attention he craved from his family members, he made up for it tenfold in school. he was always talking to everyone, loud, boisterous, gregarious, life of the party; he wanted people to like him and they did. he become a total people pleaser, molding himself to make sure everyone was content and stayed around. impressionable, adaptable. he felt less this way towards adults and had a bit of a rebellious phase, hanging with the wrong crowd & getting into things he probably wouldn’t do otherwise. old habits die hard and he still tries his best to make everyone crack a smile, to remember him - since he believes he won’t be remembered for much else.

after he just barely skated by in high school ( his grades were never as good as his cousin’s and never lived up to his father’s expectations ), byron felt a bit lost. a lot of people had plans, were heading off to college - but already under the assumption he couldn’t reach any expectation in that realm ( a lil self fulfilling prophecy am i right pals ), he stayed in town - caring for his mother who hardly had anything together, his uncle who got sick very quickly & passed, spending time with his grandmother, while he himself fell into a rut. most of his days meant he drove out towards his dad’s place ( dad hardly there now, out and about with his new family ), surfing, smoking, and grabbing some cash doing odd jobs any way he could. he lost any purpose he once had ( but yall would never know it bc who wants to be in someone’s life who’s a buzzkill ? all smiles, baby, all smiles. )

IN WESTMERE

when his cousin offered the opportunity to travel cross-country in his van, byron had nothing to lose. always adventurous in spirit, he immediately said yes - deciding to ignore that ‘obligation,’ that feeling to make sure they were a-ok that he felt towards his parents. he needed an out and this was it.

after landing in the small connecticut town for the night, the two fell for it - especially since when they got there along the water, it was a summer night + everything landed into place. they decided to stay there a bit longer ... and that eventually turned into more than a year. still antsy to keep traveling and to move around, byron has been ready to head out ... but stays for a few reasons - and them all being people ( bc lbh the surf is not even on point here ok )

his current job is a deckhand ( on a bunch of boats, ppl prob hired him as word of mouth got around that he knew what he was doing ). prob got that knowledge from being by his dad’s on the water when younger ( he’s ... obsessed with the water ) ! and also he’s just a quick learner ok ( ps: if your charrie has a boat pls let’s make somethin happen )

TO KNOW [ headcanons + more ]

his fav karaoke song is sweet caroline bc he knows everyone will be able to sing nd party along. he does it for the ppl, ppl.

he never saw too many baby / kid pics of himself which was kind of a bummer bc he really only remembers negative times - somehow they overpowered ( i bet lil byron was cute as fuck too fml )

he’s super into drugs, hallucinogenics, honestly you name it. it started off w/ him being impressionable, then bored, and now he just enjoys it. despite his mother’s addiction running through his blood, he still continues to do his thang.

longboards around town so watch your toes

uses 🤙🤙 all the time and not ironically

has an existential crisis on the daily about purpose but keeps that to himself most times

WANTED CONNECTIONS

someone pls give me a sugar mama idc how we plot it out they don’t have to hook up they can idk idc i just want someone giving him money or expensive things it can be so much fun ok ,, pool boy ? idk sign me up

pls if your muse has a boat, let him be the deckhand ok it will also be so fun and potentially angsty if he fucks something up

a fling 100% - even multiple ? idc listen he is currently sharing a tiny VAN with his COUSIN he needs a place - like an actual bed - to crash on at night

can he save someone who was potentially drowning pls??? he used to be a lifeguard, it can be a cool/fun thread to write out

omg off of that can he teach someone how to swim

look if anyone is into marine bio, can they somehow know byron’s father ?? i feel like that could make room for a cool plot

also i have an older brother connect on the w/c’s page lmk lmk

give me a good influence that will somehow have him open up + tell him that it’s weird to be so sunshiny all the time. maybe someone who witnesses him at his worst + stays, ya know ??

a bad influence plot where y/c takes this impressionable young lad and puts him through the ringer tbh ( srrsly he’d do a lot for ppl, so ask him to do something illegal for them it’ll be fun )

party pals, smoking pals, on the water 24/7 pals,

co-worker, other ppl that work on the water ( fishermen?? more deckhands?? captains??)

gimmie someone he accidentally bumped into while longboarding ( he’s a large human it might’ve done damage ok )

i want and need enemies ok i know he’s chill as fuck and wants everyone to like him but there’s always a way to find enemies >:o. anything angsty for REAL.

unrequited thing? where he led someone on?? i’m sure he does this constantly

don’t ruin the friendship thing omg plsssss always so fun

look i’m open for it ALL. every plot u have in mind so lay it on me

#westmereintro #TW ADDICTION #nd ... i think that's it

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personasintro · 4 years

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God pls tell me im not alone in this, nd im telling your since we are a year apart i think, so this age feels weird, idk if its depression or what the hell but i feel old af like im on the final stage of muy life but then i.e a 22 year old girl commited suicide in my hometown, so people were like "she was so young to go thru that" AND im like damn it IS young then i feel guilty for not living to my fullest but i can actually do anything, time isnt even real wtf

I can relate to this so much, if I remember correctly I think I’ve already talked about this. I don’t know when exactly I started to feel this way (maybe when I was fired) but even before then, I’d feel like I’m going nowhere with my life. 22 isn’t old but when I was younger, I imagined my life differently. It causes me to not be happy and it’s so frustrating. Seeing all my classmates or even just people in my age, getting married and having successful lives and jobs just puts a lot of pressure on me. I think a lot of young people in our age feels like kind of pressure, whether it’s because of people we surround ourselves with or from social media... there are so many factors that can cause this.

#personasintro: unpopular opinions

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tracle0 · 4 years

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Hi it’s been a hot second since I did a wip4 ramble so I guess it’s time for a wip4 ramble

I want to make a pre-ramble (or start of the ramble) note that I have been thinking about this damn. This damn wip in all my spare hours. Oh you need to write a CV? Nuh-uh, think about wip4. Wanna have a bath? wip4. Wanna go to sleep? wip4.

Despite all this thinking, I still have no title. Soz.

I do, however, have a bad analogy for you! Concerning powers ‘nd stuff

See fun fact about me, I’m not exactly fantastic at world building. I think of a specific idea, I build up a world around that idea so it works and then try and answer as many questions as I can think of about it, but it’s still like.... like...

Like this! Big voids around what has been built up!!! Push too hard, you fall out of the world. Weeeeeeeee

However I do like building up logic behind powers, because I’ve mostly kept the world the same, I just need to know exactly what I’m talking about in regards to the things I have added.

So! Bad analogy time! Regarding the limits of abilities, which I think I kinda talked about here and if not there then the other possible posts are linked there, idk enjoy exploring.

Spoiler alert: the limits of abilities? Varies, and there are lots of sinks.

You know the question ‘how long is a piece of string?’ how the answer is ‘depends on how long you cut it’? Same deal applies with the whole ‘how far can abilities go?’ - it really, really depends.

Assume abilities and their limits function like this here sink, apples not included. Some sinks are bigger than others, that’s just the luck of the draw. In this case, we’re looking at overflowing the sink in regards to using up abilities.

Turn the tap on - that’s you using your ability! Clever noodle! But if you don’t turn it off, then your sink overflows! You noodle!!!

Luckily for us, and for sinks, we have these overflowing holes to stop you from flooding the house!

For us, these are mostly painless - you’re losing water, but you’ll survive, just turn the tap off. For people in wip4 who overflow? It hurts. That’s when the universe starts to take back from you. If you go too far, and the overflow hole no longer works, you start to flood the house - or you just get entirely dissolved.

That’s how abiliites work here, lads. Unlimited supply, but your dumbass body can only store so much at once. The plug stays in until you go to sleep, then it drains the water/power buildup from the day and starts anew.

Some days are different to others, as well - you tend to keep the same sink/limit, but some days, it’s windy and the water ripples and splashes around so you need to be careful about how close to the overflow hole you go.

Now that’s pretty handy, so let’s prod this anlogy a bit and hope we don’t fall into the void - in wip4, a pretty key thing that happens is Abby trying to push things past their limits and taking abilities from one body, puttingit in another and seeing how that works.

In this case, the plug is open and the tap is out of your control.

(There are so many pictures of taps and sinks and I am very happy about this).

Once your ability has been yoinked, the unlimited limit of water you once had? Very limited now. Limited to what your body can hold in a day before touching the overflow hole.

Now the other person who has your ability (it’s Percival, Percival is the only guy who does this I’m just gonna name drop him okay) has control over the tap. Every time they turn it on, the finite store of water you have is used up, and a little, little bit of you is taken away.

There goes a nail.

A finger joint.

A hand.

Once the limit is used up, you’re gone. If you’re lucky, this will happen after you’ve died, because fuck me sideways, it is painful.

There’s also the final little loophole/thing I need to address of what happens in the even that you’ve been disintergrated and then put back together, which again, I will name drop, only happens to Keaton.

In his case, he overused his own ability, so I’ll talk about that specifically, then maybe come up with analogies to add to the end of this for other disintergration possibilities.

There’s a dramatic overflowing sink, seems to be also spilling from the kettle, fair fair.

So, he overflowed, got taken apart, then put back together. Sink emptied, start a new day. Except, in this analogy, the overflow hole? No longer exists. It’s been plugged up, so in theory, it’s easier to overflow and hurt himself wtihout any warning.

Except, in this anaogy, overflowing doesn’t matter as much. The room is already flodded, and you’ve gotten used to it. You’re no longer taken apart for overflowing the sink, the real danger comes with flooding the other rooms. But hey, every morning, any extra water you added to the flood is gone, with only the little bit you had when you first flooded the room being there.

It’s not impossible to flood the other rooms. If you had your tap on all day, you would probably have issues. But it’s a lot harder than it once was.

Nice job, kid! Your prize for dying and then not dying is more use of your ability. Enjoy!

I really hope that made sense because in my head it makes perfect sense but that might just be my dumbass brain.

In other wip4 news, I’m trying to think of what kind of dumb puns and jokes and stereotypes are assosiated with different abilities. Silvertongues aren’t trusted, that’s one I have down definitely. Also some kind of joke about empaths and therapy.

Have a good day and thanks for reading this far I think

#wip4 #gonna reblog with the taglist in a hot second bear with me

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rebyell · 4 years

Text

Chicago Fire Fic: What Was and What Should Be, Ch. 1

Sylvie tried to find something to say that was light and encouraging. She actually appreciated that she was now one of the people Casey leaned on the most at 51 – he didn’t really have anyone outside the house, and he’d admitted that with Kidd having moved in to Severide’s place, he felt awkward talking to Severide about much, like he was horning in on their couple time. So he was going out more, trying to ‘move on’ apparently while also staying out of their way, working long hours on construction projects so he was only really sleeping there, but Sylvie really wanted to be encouraging his pursuit of happiness, not be a jealous meanie, who thought he was hot, and kind, and sweet, and hot – how had she not noticed how handsome he was when he was married? She’d been so convinced that he was so lucky to have Gabby, but damn, Gabby had been lucky to have him, too. So Matt was talking to her now, not Severide. This time, it had been an insensitive bitch (Sylvie’s thoughts, not his) who had basically cut him off at the knees when he mentioned he had a roommate. They’d been going out three weeks (Casey’s attempts at being discrete were ruined by the perpetual gossip queens at 51, so this was not news), and the woman had wanted to go back to his, and he’d gotten to the fact he was living with a friend (he had not, he said, gotten to the whole ‘I lost everything I owned in a fire and insurance is insisting that the court case be finished before officially determining I wasn’t the arsonist’). Apparently, he’d passed along, having a roommate at 37 made him a ‘loser’ who was ‘immature, financially unstable, or worse, both’ and that he’d never find a normal woman who’d date a guy nearing 40 who didn’t at least have his shit together enough to live on his own. She could imagine Matt, sweet, solemn, genuinely-cares-about-what-you’re-saying, and much more sensitive than most people knew Matt Casey, listening to a woman he liked call him a loser and then getting stuck with the dinner-and-drinks bill, and here he was, of course, blaming himself, believing this woman (though he didn’t say as much, it was pretty obvious, and she was drunk, so it must be really obvious) and it made her mad. Very mad. He was such a decent guy, and that face, and he was nicely built, and he was not a loser at all – even when she was sober she totally did not think he was a loser at all. He was kind and warm and very responsible and very mature and very hot. Okay, she was drunk, and focusing on the ‘attractive’ thing a little too much.

“You don’t have to disagree with her, you know.” Matt managed a sad attempt at a half-smile. Her confusion must have shown on her face. “You look like you’re trying to come up with a nice, supportive, Sylvie Brett way of saying she’s right – of all the fish in the sea, I’m the worst catch, so to speak.”

“Uhm, no, not what was I thinking at all. Trust me, you have to scrape the bottom of a really deep barrel to be the worst catch in the sea.” She meant that, truly, there were a surprisingly high number of shitty people in the dating pool. Like apparently this Miranda woman he’d been seeing. Seeing the look on his face, she kept going, “Not that you’re a bad catch at all, Matt Casey. You’re kind, and sweet, and very handsome, and you’ve got a good job – two good jobs really, so bonus for that – and you’re a great friend, and you have the most amazing eyes, has anyone told you that?” “You’ve been trying to keep up with Foster again, haven’t you?” He asked, a more genuine smile spreading across his face.

“No, well, yes, but she bought and she kept buying, before she left to go to some thing for a friend or with a friend or about a friend.” Sylvie explained. “But me being drunk is not why you have beautiful eyes. You just do. Me being drunk might be why I’m saying it though. But it’s better than saying the other thing I was thinking, so it’s okay, because the other thing I was thinking is you’re hot. And that would be awkward. Maybe. If you’re not okay with that. Not with being hot, I guess you’re okay with that, you’ve probably been hot like your entire life, but with me saying it.”

“Were you drinking beer all night?” He gestured to what was in her hand. She didn’t follow his jump in topic, but oh well.

“What? This?” She glanced at the bottle. “No. After round three of whiskey, I told Foster I had to switch to beer.” “Three? And how many beers?” “This is my third, but I’ve had like…two sips out of it. You’re not going to buy me a drink, are you?” “Well, I was going to offer, since you’ve listened to me complain, but I think now I’m going to offer to take you home instead.” “See?! Nice, sweet, kind Matt Casey – definitely a good catch.”

“Yeah, nice guys, what every woman wants apparently.” Matt scoffed, rolling his eyes a little. “Stay here, I’ll clear my tab with Herrmann.” “I’ll be here.” She assured, thankful a moment later that the bar was kind of loud as “enjoying the view of your butt,” slipped out because she was actually that shallow tonight, he had a nice butt. His turnout gear of course did not show it off, but sometimes his duty pants did. Tonight, his dress pants did. He’d gotten dressed up, they must’ve gone somewhere nice, and then he got dumped, and told he was a loser. He probably paid the bill, too, he was the type to always pay for a girl, definitely. Typical Casey. Treated like crap and paid for the privilege of it. He was back a minute later, she almost laughed because he’d be the type to never realize but he always got served like first in the whole place because that was just Herrmann and Otis being respectful of their boss like that – everyone in the house adored Casey, even when he was making them nuts with drills and stuff.

“What’re you grinning about?” He asked with a smile.

“You.” “Laughing at me, huh? Can’t blame you.” His smile was fake now, though.

“Sort of, but not like you think. Her loss, Matt. I mean that. Everyone here loves you and if she doesn’t, well, that’s just poop for her.” “Poop for her?” Matt laughed lightly. “You’re in a bar, you can swear.” “I don’t like to swear much.” She shrugged. “Except, well, you don’t need to know that.” “You ready to head home?” “With you?” “Well, I’m driving, but no, I’ll take you back to yours. Otis said Cruz should be back from his date with Chloe by now.” “What if he brought Chloe back to ours? He thinks Otis and I are both out for the evening.” “I’m sure they’ll be in the bedroom in that case.” He reassured as he ushered out of the bar.

“Hey, Case, ‘hawks tickets on Friday, you in?” Severide asked as they passed his table. Kidd had a weird look on her face, Sylvie couldn’t place it, but it was weird. “Section 110, 2nd row.” “Hell yes I’m in. I’m gonna take Brett home – she tried to keep up with Foster again – catch you back home.” “Sure, later.”

“You know, I think Kidd doesn’t like you living there. Or maybe she was just jealous Severide didn’t take her to the Blackhawks.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about getting a new place. I’ll have to rent for a while.”

“Ooh, let me help again this time! I love real estate. You should totally buy in this market, you know, you could make money on a fixer, you can do the work yourself and everything.” “I would, if I get the insurance settled. Then again, I have nothing to go in a house. Or an apartment. I don’t even own a mattress, or an entire wardrobe that doesn’t say Chicago Fire Department on it.” “Oh, I forgot for a second. Sorry. How long on that?” “Lawyers say a month or so until the case is wrapped up, so maybe six weeks.” “It’s been almost a year – since last December. Good thing you’ve got Severide.” “He’s a good friend, letting me crash in the guest room for 10 months.” Matt agreed. She looked at him, he was so earnest and kind and hot. She was stuck on the ‘hot’ tonight. Then something occurred to her.

“I just realized you sleep in the bed Kidd used to sleep in. The same sheets even. Washed but still. That’s kinda weird. I bet they had sex in her room sometimes. So like, you sleep in their bed, sort of.” “Now I’m going to be thinking about that tonight. Thanks for that.” Matt chuckled a little. They pulled up near her building. He didn’t have a parking spot, so he’d had to take what was sort of near her building. They had official visitor spots, she remembered. Too few, but it was a weeknight, so there were some left probably.

“You can go in the parking. You can have a visitor spots. I’ll give you the code. But shhh, we’re not supposed to give it out, we’re supposed to buzz you in with your phones, but I don’t know if I can type the code right right now.” “Alright, what’s the code I have to enter?” He asked, but he hadn’t moved the truck.

“Uhm, you have to be at the gate.” “I know that, I’m just not getting stuck up there and then you can’t remember it.” “Oh. I remember it! I’m not that drunk.” “You’re pretty drunk. It’s adorable but also a little concerning.” “It’s Foster’s fault. She drinks a lot. Not like at work, Captain Casey, sir. Just, like, out, she drinks more than I ever have.” “I can tell. The code?” “Oh, yeah. 03-04-18-37. Then my apartment number. Do you know that?”

“Yeah. Between you, Otis, and Cruz, it’s on a lot of paperwork I see.” “There’s an elevator. Thankfully. I’m not sure I like stairs right now.” “Probably not.” Casey agreed, as he punched in the code and the gate rolled back. He found the visitors spots easily up on the almost top bit of the parking deck. How did he know that? She got distracted, or something, because he was holding open his truck door, looking at her expectantly.

“What?” “You’re not sleeping my truck, Sylvie. Let’s go inside.” “Your truck is comfy. Not new, but reliable, comfy, lived in. Like you.” “I don’t know if that’s a compliment. Probably true, though.” Matt shook his head.

“I mean, it smells like you. Not that you’re lived in or comfy. You might be comfy. I’ve never sat on you.” She admitted as she slipped from the truck and headed towards the door into the residential part of the building. She was not sure the parking had always been this unlevel. She continued, “it smells like you. Like, good things. Like wood and sawdust and that guy smell, just whatever it is, that Matt smell that is just you, not anything else.” “I have a smell?” He caught her as she threatened to fall into him, the floor was really unlevel tonight and right in front of the elevator too, that was silly, who built it like that? “mm-hmm. It’s nice. See you smell like it right now. Sort of. You wore cologne though. It covers it up. It’s nice cologne, but I miss you smell.” “I did have a date tonight. I didn’t think ‘me smell’ was what I should go with.” “When we date, don’t bother with cologne. You smell sexier with the sawdust and you smell.” “Are we dating?” Matt asked with a chuckle. “I could stop being jealous of stupid mean women who say you’re a ‘loser’ then. And you wouldn’t get stuck paying for dinner with a woman who would call you a ‘loser’. Which isn’t good. Plus, then it wouldn’t be weird that I was checking out your butt tonight when you paid your tab.” “You were?” He wasn’t chuckling now, as they got out of the elevator on her floor. It wasn’t even many floors down from where they had been, but she was sure the stairs would be even more unlevel than the parking. “Mm-hmm. You have a cute butt in those pants. Also, you have the bluest eyes. I love your eyes. Did I say that already tonight? I’m drunk. I think I’m drunker than I think. Thought. I’m drunker enough to just decide we’re dating, so you can stop being with mean women and I can stop dealing with guys who don’t want what I want or whatever it is that means I keep ending up with guys who don’t understand me or the job. And since we’re dating, I can look at your ass and it’s not weird. And your eyes. And your…you.” “Is Cruz actually home? I could knock. I think you’re a little drunk to be left home by yourself.” “You can sleep over! If we’re dating now, it’s fine if you sleep over. Chloe sleeps over sometimes. And Lily too.” “That would probably not be a good idea.” “But if you leave, hey, what’re you doing, that’s my purse.” He just reached out and took her purse off her shoulder and was opening it. Rude. “And we’ve been standing at your door for a full minute. You have a key?” “Oh, yeah, it’s in there. Sorry.” “Let’s get you inside.” He said, as he found the key and opened the door. He guided her inside, even though she lived there. “Cruz!” He called out, but there was no answer. She figured that meant he was at Chloe’s, or maybe they were still out, it wasn’t that late, not really, she was just drunk kinda early. Because of Foster. Who was a bad influence. Whose bad influence led her to be here, being ushered around her own apartment by Matt Casey. Who was also her boss. Sort of. Not really. So it wasn’t a conflict really because he couldn’t give orders to ambo. Except sometimes. And he processed all their personnel paperwork and stuff. So some authority. But that didn’t mean he was her boss and she shouldn’t be attracted to him because of rules. He smelled good. Sexy. And he was probably really well built. She’d never actually seen him shirtless. But he had to be. She wanted to know. “Let’s get you some water.” His voice pulled her from her thoughts. Even his voice was sexy. “I’m not thirsty. I had lots of liquid, too much, I mean.” She was pretty sure if she drank anything more, she’d start to feel sick. Plus, she kind of didn’t want to sober up just yet. She was enjoying the feelings of being close to him. “You’re drunk.” Matt reminded. “water will help.” “But if I get less drunker, I won’t have the guts to do this.” She said, then practically fell into him to kiss him. Maybe it was his body heat, or his smell, or his Matt Casey-ness, but she was drunk enough to go with it and worry about whatever later, so she kissed him, good and long and hard. She kissed him and enjoyed that he kissed back and he was good at it. He kissed like he did everything else, like it was the only thing on the planet going on right at that moment, and damn it, she wanted him, wanted to throw him on the nearest surface and just kiss him until they both passed out from lack of oxygen. She always got wet easily when she was drunk, and she could feel herself getting really turned on, and she pushed impossibly closer to him, her hands roaming, trying to get their fill of him, all the things forbidden to her before right now, and speaking of forbidden, she fumbled at his fly, damn dress pants were harder to get than jeans, and she mostly ended up groping him through his pants, but just for a second because then his hands grabbed her wrists, firmly but not too hard, and he was pushing her away from him, which caused her to whine – she didn’t mean to, but she didn’t want to be away from his heat and his smell and his Matt Casey-ness.

“Not tonight, Sylvie.” “Why not?” “You’re too drunk to make this sort of decision.” He paused. “And I’m not the kind of guy who takes one woman to dinner and sleeps with a different woman on the same night.” “She should’ve hit that then, her loss.” “If you really want this,” Matt sighed, but smiled at her, “you’ll still want it when you’re sober. I respect you way too much, and value our friendship too much, to not wait for sober enthusiastic consent. I mean, I always do, would, but especially with you.” “Why are you such a good guy?” She asked, half in complaint, half out of just sheer affection for this sweet, solemn, lovely man. Who was also really hot, hence her half complaint. “But I think I love it about you, you know? You’re good. Not nice, I mean, you’re nice, but you’re not nice like you have good manners and act the part, you’re good. Down to your bones. Do you know that? You’re good down to your bones, Matt Casey, and that’s why I love you. Well, that and you’re hot with beautiful eyes.” “Let’s get you to bed. With some water. I’ll text Cruz, see where he’s at.” “Don’t bother him, he’s with Chloe. Otis will be home at like 3. I’ll be fine. Or you could stay.” “On the sofa.” He gave her a sharp look, as her hands wandered down his body again. She couldn’t help it. He should be touched. She was drunk, but she also noticed that while his mouth said ‘no’ his body was saying ‘yes’ – he liked being touched.

“With me.” She shook her head. “Not like…I respect your ‘no’. Just in the bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “You don’t trust me?” “Drunk? Not entirely.” He chuckled. “So you’re good and you’re smart.” She laughed. “But I promise. No roving hands tonight. But I want a cuddle. Just a cuddle. I miss the cuddling.” “Yeah, it’s hard to go back to sleeping alone. Come on, this is you, right?” He gestured to the bedroom he’d led them down the hall to. She nodded.

“That’s me. I’m gonna brush my teeth first. Be right back.”

“I’ll get that glass of water.” She came into the bedroom, unsurprised to find he’d already turned back the covers. He was the type to do that. He was also the type, it turned out, to turn around when she started changing clothes. Which she’d probably appreciate when she was sober, but tonight it was just silly and adorable. She’d let him see the whole show anyway. She was in her PJs, nearly fell into bed, then looked up at him.

“Your turn. Oh, I could get something from Cruz’s room for you-“ “It’s fine. I’ve slept worse.” He shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes from what she could tell and guess. She couldn’t see it, the angle was bad and his shoulders were between her eyes and his actions and oooh, he had nice shoulders. He took off the outer, nice, shirt he was wearing, too.

“Your pants.” She prompted, then explained at his look. “I mean, they’re nice, don’t wrinkle them. I promise to keep my hands to myself, you can take your pants off. Though I’ll be tempted. It felt nice, the like second I touched it.” “Thanks, I think.” He chuckled again. “You know, this sort of thing is easier when you girls crash at a guy’s – I can just give you some boxers and an old t-shirt.” “I could give you my underwear.” She laughed. “I don’t think it’d suit you.”

“Or fit.” He grinned.

“Take your pants off. Unless you’re not wearing underwear. That might be too much temptation.”

“You’ve known me for almost five years.” He laughed, shaking his head. He also stood to remove his pants, and she unashamedly checked out his ass. “If you think not wearing underwear is an option, you don’t know me nearly well enough for us to do this. Or even think about going where all that kissing out in the living room was going.” “You’ve never not worn underwear?” “You have? I mean, gone out with no underwear?”

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’. “It was kind of a dare. But it felt kind of…naughty and I kind of liked it.” “Damn it.” He blushed a little, but she didn’t know why.

“I was just joking.” She reassured, not wanting him to think she didn’t know him very well. “I mean, I totally did that, but I mean I knew you’d be wearing underwear. I even knew it would be black boxer briefs, plain black, always, and always Jockey. Dawson joked about how predictable you are.” She realized he looked taken aback or something and he was definitely blushing more now. “I just mean I know who you are, Matt Casey.” “Yeah.” “And you are comfy and warm and you smell good and I’m drunk enough to ask so just get over here for cuddles.” “Drink some of that water. I’ll stay until Otis or Cruz gets home, okay?”

#chicago fire fic #brettsey

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