#might be my fav piece of writing so far :’)
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“you’re getting sleepy, aren’t you?”
“i’m fine…” minghao tells you in a slurred voice, although he’s had his eyes closed for a good five minutes now. but he just can’t help it: sat between your legs as you’re meticulously drying his hair, he’s feeling too comfortable to stay awake.
“i’m almost done” you tell him as you keep guiding the dryer in circular motions, your fingertips lightly grazing his scalp.
the night fell a few hours ago, its tranquility only disrupted by the occasional cars passing by your street. the bedside lamp on your right acts as your only source of light, splashing orange shades on the walls.
you’ve always felt at home with minghao. the calming patterns of his voice, his arms that know exactly how and when to hold you, his genuine laughter at your stupidest jokes.
and you’ve been spending so much time at his place lately, you could even say you feel at home in his home, sometimes staying by yourself for a full day.
obviously he’s not asking for anything in return, but you do it anyways. cooking, cleaning, buying groceries… everything he tells you not to bother with.
“i’m done”, you state as you unplug the drier and roll its wire on itself.
minghao mutters a sleepy ‘thank you’, and you feel him leaving a kiss on the side of your knee before climbing into bed.
it takes you less than a minute to put the drier back in the bathroom’s cabinet, but it was enough time for your boyfriend to have tucked himself under the covers, his eyes closed in a peaceful expression.
you fight back the urge to tease him, just in case he’s actually sleeping already, and walk around the bed to turn off the light on his nightstand.
“move in with me”
minghao’s voice is soft as ever, nothing more than a whisper. his lips are spread in a barely noticeable smile as he watches you freeze for a second.
“officially? i mean, full-time?” you ask, an obvious happiness blooming in your voice.
“full time and maybe forever” he tells you while lifting the covers as an invitation.
you suddenly forget about turning the light off, only thinking about bending down to pepper his face in kisses, enough for him to understand that you couldn’t be happier about that offer.
with each kiss, minghao’s smile grows bigger and bigger, until he wraps his arms around you to drag you to bed himself. your bed.
“i love you” you whisper, a hand caressing his cheek.
“i love you too” he replies, snaking one arm out of the covers to finally turn the lights off.
and as you drift off to sleep, you both relish the warm feeling of knowing that this is what all your nights are going to look like from now on. peaceful, tender, and most importantly, at home.
#might be my fav piece of writing so far :’)#minghao x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#minghao fluff#minghao imagines#xu minghao#the8 x reader#the8 fluff#the8 imagines
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i forgive you.
pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader
based off a request! i feel like when i write angst i don't feel my stomach stir when i reread mine, but i feel it when i read others. so i don't know if my angst just doesn't have that spark that i hope it did? do you guys feel it when you read this? 😭
hope that this met what you wanted!
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i was thinking of an angst with jenna x femreader? it could be when jenna has been overworked, comes home with reader preparing her something bc she misses her terribly, jenna pouring out her anger into her?
ending is entirely up to you, bad or good, idm!! as always, take your time fav author💕
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Music blasted through your headphones as you swept the floor, throwing pillows on top of the couch perfectly.
You missed your girlfriend. You missed Jenna.
She was filming, not too far from you, an hour or two, but even though she wasn’t too far, you couldn’t come on set when they filmed. There were days she would come home exhausted.
Everyday you missed her, you missed her hugs, her kisses. You missed baking with her and falling asleep on her chest almost every night.
Jenna always had time for you, even as an actress, you knew it too that she loved you from the moon and back.
But her schedules were busy with upcoming movies around this time, you barely got to talk to her as much, let alone even see her. There were sleepless nights when Jenna wouldn’t burst into the apartment with you running into her arms.
You were drained at the end of most days, not being able to have the warm blanket that can’t compare to no other, Jenna. And as much as you’d long to tell her, you just couldn’t. You didn’t want her to see you as someone just as stressful as her work.
So all you could do was wait, you felt like if you somehow had your headphones on everyday, she’d have them on one of the times you wore them. It made you feel a little better, at least you might be doing something together. There were endless crumpled pieces in your personal room with smeared ink on them. Each of them you wrote when you missed her. You think you wrote at least one every day the moon passed your city and dawn broke. Your writing somehow never faltered, even when you were writing about the same thing every single time.
The endless poetic letters and writings crumbled in the palm of your hand, scattered in a box standing in front of your desk. You couldn’t help it. You felt sad. And the thing was, the only thing that made you happy was the one thing you can’t get at the end of the day without waiting.
The sun peeked through the curtains corner, the orange yellow brightness beginning to set.
Your legs kicked up and down, opening the Amazon package you ordered a few days prior, unboxing it and taking out the bubble wrap that crunched and popped as you unwrapped it. Your eyes laid upon the heart framed picture of you in Jenna’s arms. Your fingertips lightly switched on the button as the edges of the heart lit up one by one until it shone a bright pink in the midst of your dim lit apartment.
You felt your lips curve into a smile and your heart squeeze, hugging the frame. It’ll all be over soon. When it’s over, you’ll be in the embrace of your sweet Jenna.
In the meantime, you made some red velvet cookies, something you did whenever you were a little sad or stressed.
As they came out of the oven, the cookie dough lifted from the heat and you shaped it in a perfect circle. Then, you piped your cream cheese frosting on the top and sprinkled the leftover red velvet cookie crumbs on top. It was something that always made you happy. Because somehow red velvet was always made when you weren’t.
A red plate was placed on the coffee table along with pretty flowers in a vase, seven of your heart-shaped red velvet cookies placed on it. The 8th and 9th? You may have eaten them to cure missing your girlfriend’s warm hugs.
The sun begins to fade as you hear the lock of your apartment click.
Your ears perk up, and so does your dog, Mabel’s. You immediately turn your head as you slowly lift from the couch, your dog seeming to get the hint as he barks playfully. Jenna.
Jenna.
And the door opens as you squeak out your girlfriend’s name happily, seeing her small figure standing at the door as you immediately run up to her. Jenna giggles, her body a bit tense and loosening as you hug her, her arms wrapping around you.
“Hi baby,” she says, a little bit of tiredness staining in her voice as you hug her and don’t want to let go.
“You’re home.” You whisper, tears almost brimming in your eyes from the happiness.
She pulls away, giving a hesitant smile as she kisses your forehead lightly, “Mhm. I missed you.” She yawned.
“I missed you so much.” You murmur, “I really hated not seeing you every morning.”
There's something in her eye, but you don’t know what. Stress? Relief? Annoyance? Drowsiness?
“I have so much work to do,” she states plainly, rubbing your back, “I have to answer so many emails and talk with some companies that want to do advertisements. So much is on my plate.”
You didn’t want to say the way your heart slowly dropped. You didn’t expect your girlfriend that you missed dearly for months to come back and just expect to do work and not spend time with someone that has been waiting.
You look at her, sweeping the bangs out of her face.
“How about we wind down? You should take a break. Maybe we should bake while listening to the playlist we made together? Spend time with each other? A movie?”
“I’m tired.”
“I think we should just-”
“No.”
“But-”
Then, her fist suddenly slams into the wooden table, making your dog and you flinch from the loudness as she screams at you.
“God! Do you ever know when to just fucking shut up? Can I just go to bed instead of having a burden on my shoulders? I came back so I could rest. Can I just fucking sleep without having you bother me like you always do? I’m already tired! Can’t you just respect that? Gosh Y/N, you are so fucking annoying!”
It was like an ignition of fireworks. But not the joy when you see the pretty colors, it's the frightening experience when you first hear the loud burst.
As soon as the words that she didn’t mean flowed out of her mouth, she shut it, immediately regretting what she said as she saw the way your happiness began to be shattered. You stood there, and Jenna just felt like she tortured a puppy. She felt her stomach fill with a drowning guilt as it seemed as tears were drowning in your eyes. Her eyes were wild and she soon realized, What the hell am I doing? She knew how much you missed her, she knew it by heart that you missed her day and night. Why did she just yell at you for you just missing someone you loved? She didn’t mean it. The brunette didn’t even know why she said that.
“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry,” You whispered, tears glazing your eyes as your body quivered, your voice cracked as you could barely whisper once again, “I’m sorry.”
You couldn’t even make eye contact with her as you looked down to the floor, quickly trying to claw away the tears that began to fall down your cheeks and glisten against the light above you two. It felt like the light wasn’t even there, you felt like the whole world around you began to crumble into a void.
You felt sick, traumatized, stabbed into the heart till blood forever took your life as Jenna couldn’t help but just stand there. God you felt like such a fool for all of these love letters. All of these letters you wrote, longing for Jenna to come home to fill the part of her that was empty from her absence in your heart. But you didn’t expect to feel your heart tear more.
“Y/N… I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay.”
“I don’t know what came over-”
“D-don’t come near me.”
She got out of the chair, approaching you, her face looking guilty as she brought her arms to hug you, apologies coming out of her mouth. But you didn’t feel the comfort. You didn’t want to be hugged. All you wanted was to get away, you wanted to get away from someone you never wanted to get away from. You immediately stumbled away from her embrace as you cried, running into the walls of the hallway as you crashed into a small drawer, making a small quiet yelp but still running and immediately shut your room when your figure got in, Mabel following you. She heard glass break into pieces, her eyes tracing to the floor where the counter you bumped into laid, your heart frame you placed gently on there broken. She had never seen that before. You must’ve gotten it when she was gone.
“No..” She whispers to herself, voice shaky, feeling guilty already as she bends down to it and sees the photo of you two hugging each other as you look at the camera with happy faces, her arms wrapped around you. The framed photo was broken, a crack in between the middle that now separated you two. A small static buzz sounding as the pink lighted up frame begins to dim, losing its light.
(the picture of you two)
She couldn’t help but think of it as a sign. Could this all be over?
Could it all be over because of words that she never meant or could ever take back?
Jenna didn’t feel good, she felt ashamed of her behavior, now noticing all the things she didn’t notice before. Roses on the table, red velvet cookies with a letter on the right, the way the apartment was perfectly tidy. She looked at the hallway, your room shut.
-
30 minutes.
That’s how much time your girlfriend gave you before she walked over to your room, seeing Mabel growl at her as her fingertips ghosted your door knob. A frown appeared on her face as she looked down, the puppy always barking playfully at her and licking her face whenever she came home. Now his eyes glared into her, almost like he was guarding the door.
She could tell the way the puppy was warning her, almost like he knew the instant change of mood in you as he chased after you and licked your face as you cried.
“Not you too,” she mumbled, bending down, Mabel backing away, “I already feel bad, I don’t want you to not like me too.”
Jenna scratched his ears as he nipped her finger lightly and bared his teeth, almost like saying, “Don’t you dare hurt her like that again.”
A sigh escaped her mouth as she picked him up and opened your door, peeking in. She looked around, the first view she could see were your crumpled letters littering in a box as she crept in and took one, unfolding it.
all reminds me of you.
every aspect of the universe, like the moon and sun.
the way the sun kisses your freckled skin.
the moon cannot shine without the sun.
just like when you’re here, all the rain has been done.
the moon loves the sun.
the way the sun comforts it during the night with its warmth.
in this universe too,
i know we’ll get through,
because i know that i love you.
-y/n
There were too many to count. So much poetry, like your mind was filled with her because you missed her. You loved her so terribly that when she wasn’t here, a part of you wasn’t there either.
“Y/N?”
No response, she sniffled, placing Mabel onto your bed as she looked around. Then she heard it. A small cry, her head immediately turning to your bathroom that was half open.
“Y/N?” she repeats again, coming closer as she opens the door, being greeted with the sight of your body slumped over on the toilet, hicupping on cries as she hears you gagging and puking. You were emptying the contents of your stomach, let alone the red velvet cookies you had before.
You looked so scared.
Anyone would feel heartbroken if they saw a sweet girl like you looking like this.
“Sweetheart,” Jena kneeled next to you worriedly, lifting up your hair as you coughed, back arching uncomfortably as she rubbed your shaking body.
Hiccups kept coming as you kept having the need to throw up. You couldn’t help it. You felt so much anxiety and stress, you just wanted it to stop as your shaking body coughed into the toilet.
Your coughing died down a little, still weak as you manage to croak out a small, “I’m sorry I-I’m annoying. I’m really t-trying not to..”
Jenna felt her heart shattered as she rubbed circles on your back, stroking your hair. Feeling terrible. She didn’t mean it.
She never meant it.
You looked tired, afraid, now realizing you didn’t look as happy as you once did when she was by your side.
Taking out her anger on someone she loved most.
“Baby no, I’m sorry I hurt you. I know how much you wanted to see me but work got a hold of me and everything was just so stressful. I didn’t mean anything I said, I don’t know why I said that. I’ve just taken all my stress that has been coming from filming on someone I loved and I shouldn’t have done that. It’s no excuse, but I promise you’re not a burden, or annoying, or anything. You’re perfect, and I love you. I’m sorry. There's no reason for you to apologize.”
It seems your coughs had stopped, backing away from the toilet as your shoulders hit the wall.
“I’m here. I love you. I love you too much. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she whispers into the shell of your ear, her warm breath slightly comforting you as she cradles you lovingly. She rubs your back and flushes the toilet, picking you up into her arms while you curl your body into her.
Her lips kiss your temple, wiping the tears she knew she caused, her warm hands caressing your cheeks. Jenna carefully places you down into bed, crawling in bed next to you as she spoons you. You turn around, immediately softening into her hug. Your sniffling red nose nestling into her neck.
Her eyes gaze at you, wondering how she could possibly yell at you. You looked so small in her arms while you let out quiet hiccuping cries.
“Shh.. Beautiful girl, I’m here, don’t cry, I won’t ever do that again. Pinky promise.”
Comfort.
Was the first thing you felt as her hand scratched your scalp, playing with the hairs on the nape of your neck. Her fingers soothed your wails, stroking your hair so gently.
Your muscles untense, your cheeks no longer so puffy.
Love.
Was the second thing you felt as Jenna’s lips pressed against your forehead over and over. Her nose nudged into yours and your hands intertwined. You felt loved. You feel the love you felt when you first laid eyes on Jenna as her warm body snuggles you. Your legs are laced together as you feel your heartbeat slow, finding serenity as you can hear the way Jenna’s peaceful heart thumps into your ears softly.
Your eyes close, you feel yourself falling asleep, Jenna can feel it too. Her fingertips stroke your hair, her lips kissing your cheek.
Forgiveness
Was the last thing you felt before you fell asleep as your head nodded off, finding the soothing comfort in the fluffy, warm duvets, and finding even more comfort in your girlfriend.
“I forgive you,” your heart says, “When it comes to you, I always forgive you. I can’t ever bring myself to not love you. I love you just like the moon loves the sun. I love you even more than myself.”
I love you more than one heart can ever love.
#jenna ortega x fem!reader#vada cavell x reader#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter x you#jenna ortega x reader#jenna marie ortega#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#vada cavell x y/n#tara carpenter x female reader
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Hi how are you? I hope well! so i really like your writing actually ur my fav writer here on tumblr ;). So i had this idea for a fanfic by Miranda Hilmarson x reader. It was about Miranda being a traffic cop sometimes too and then she ends up giving the reader a ticket in one day and the reader gets really mad and even fights with Miranda, and then they end up meeting again, but what Miranda didn't know was that the reader would be her new boss!! From there I leave it to you, it can even be an enemies to lovers, you know.
I just had this silly idea, maybe you'll like it and I'd be super happy if you wrote it.💗
another thing! English is not my language, I'm literally writing this through Google translator so if something seems strange to you, you already know ☠️
A/N: thank you sooo much, that is so kind of you! I really liked this request and enjoyed writing it - it's my first time writing for Miranda so I really hope it's okay <3 just gonna post this and go hide now ahhhh
not your fault
Words: ~7.4k | ao3 link in title
Content/warnings: slight enemies to lovers, mentions of Adrian Butler (ugh), reader has a temper - poor Miranda is on the receiving end, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, employee-boss relationship, angry Miranda, but also adorable puppy Miranda, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering, cunnilingus
“Are you fucking kidding me…” You groaned under your breath as you snatched up the little piece of paper stuck between your windshield wipers - a parking ticket. You were already running late thanks to your cat having puked all over your carpet that morning, and thanks to the barista at the coffee shop who’d taken ages with your latte - and now you were going to be even later.
You whipped your head around, looking for the officer who’d given you the ticket. A tall, blonde woman in a police uniform was strolling down the line of parked cars, handing out tickets to each one. The officer turned as you stomped over, eyes widening as you advanced on her until you were standing right in front of her. You had to crane your neck up to look at her - in any other situation, you might have found this insanely arousing, but right now you were far too pissed.
“Care to explain this?” You waved the paper in her face - she went slightly cross-eyed as her eyes followed your movements.
“Uh, that’s a parking ticket, ma’am.” The officer swallowed visibly, taking a step back.
“I park here every goddamn day,” you hissed.
“I’m sorry…” She seemed a bit dazed and distracted for a moment as she regarded you, her eyes darting between your own, before straightening her posture and clearing her throat. “There’s, uh, a festival downtown this weekend, they’ve closed most of the parking zones until it’s over. There’s a sign at the start of the road.” She nodded her head over to a single sign set up at the next intersection, one that you had clearly missed in your rush.
You were seething, a billion arguments ready on your tongue, but the clock was ticking - and in the end, she was right, no matter how pissed you were.
“You know what, fucking forget it. I’m already running late! Thanks for nothing.” You stomped back to your car and crumpled up the parking ticket, tossing it on the passenger seat and groaning in frustration - the officer stood rooted to the spot, watching as you drove away.
~~~
Not wanting to get a speeding ticket in addition to your parking ticket, you took your time driving to the police station for your first day on the job. You’d just moved to Sydney to replace Adrian Butler as he left his position to “focus on his marriage” - you hadn’t even started yet and had already heard rumors of his extramarital affair with a constable. Men are pigs, you thought as you strode into the station and took the elevator up to the third floor, half an hour later than you’d planned.
The room was buzzing when you walked in but as soon as you cleared your throat and made your presence known, everyone went silent.
“I’ll spare you all the usual ��first day’ speech - you should know who I am. I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other well over the course of the coming weeks, but for now I already have my hands full with everything that Detective Sergeant Butler so generously left for me.”
Your eyes landed on an empty desk near the center of the room. “Who usually sits there? Are they out sick?”
Some of the men began to snicker - one in particular answered your question. “Oh, that’s Hilmarson.” He smirked and took a sip from his coffee mug as he leaned against the side of the copy machine.
You raised an eyebrow. “And? Where is Constable Hilmarson?”
The elevator doors opened behind you and you turned around, eyes widening as you were confronted with the tall, blonde officer who’d given you a ticket. Her own shocked expression mirrored yours.
“That’d be her.” The man - Constable Brown, you’d later come to learn - chuckled, his smirk widening.
“Constable.” You glared pointedly at Constable Hilmarson. “My office, now.”
She frowned and followed you to the small office at the side of the room. You closed the door behind her and took a seat behind your new desk, gesturing for the officer to sit. She scrambled rather clumsily towards the chair and sat down, looking like a child about to be reprimanded.
“Constable Hilmarson, is it? Miranda?” You regarded her carefully. Her cheeks were rosy with embarrassment, her eyes wide as saucers. And, God, were they blue. They were mesmerizing. Miranda bobbed her head up and down in answer to your question, a bit of her pale blonde hair falling in her eye. She raised a hand to her head, dragging long fingers through her hair to brush it back - you had to physically shake your head to stop yourself from getting distracted by her movements.
“I like to be prepared, Constable. So I was having a look at your file the other day, you see, and I was under the impression that you are currently on a homicide case with Detective Griffin. Or am I mistaken?”
“Yes - I mean, no, you’re not mistaken.” Miranda shook her head furiously.
“Then pray tell, Constable - why on earth did you spend your morning handing out fucking parking tickets?” You couldn’t keep the venom out of your voice as you questioned Miranda - something about her was pissing you off (or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t even been able to drink your coffee yet), and you were having trouble reigning in your emotions.
Miranda’s face was bright red and her hands shook slightly. “I lost a bet,” she mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.
“Louder.”
She cleared her throat, her eyes locking with yours. “I lost a bet. I had to take over Constable Brown’s duties for the morning.”
You sighed, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.
“I’m not here to play games. Do you understand that?” Your voice was sickly sweet, bordering on condescension - it was not lost on Miranda, who was starting to look like she wanted to argue.
Evidently, she thought better of it at the last second, for she simply nodded as she glowered at you.
“You’re here to do your job, not Constable Brown’s job. And I expect you to do your job well. So, seeing as you’ve not only made me late, wasted your entire morning, and wasted even more of my time with this silly conversation, I would appreciate it if you could get to work. Now.”
Miranda stood abruptly, sending a stack of papers flying from your desk as she stormed from the room. You rubbed your temples, wincing at the force with which she closed the door behind her - you were already starting to develop a headache, and it wasn’t even 10 am.
~~~
As the morning went on, you found yourself growing more and more agitated, unable to focus on anything. You realized as your stomach growled for the fourth (or was it the fifth?) time that, in your rush, you’d skipped breakfast.
The second the clock hit 12 for your lunch break, you were on your feet. You’d have to work through much of your break to catch up, but you could afford to take a few minutes to grab a coffee and a granola bar from the vending machines in the lobby.
Passing by Miranda’s desk, you noticed that her chair was empty - the sight made your blood boil. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down - it was her lunch break, too, and she had every right to leave her desk during that time. Her messy, cluttered desk… You clenched your fists and headed for the elevator.
That wasn’t the only time her desk was empty, however. Throughout the afternoon, you would look up from your paperwork (you found that Adrian had been terrible at properly filing paperwork, making your job that much harder) every so often - and more times than not, the constable was nowhere in sight. With a frustrated sigh, you stood and strode over to open the window - you desperately needed the fresh air if you were going to make it home without strangling someone.
The sight of Miranda smoking a cigarette in the alley next to the station, just under your window, had you clenching your jaw, nostrils flaring. You couldn’t help yourself - you immediately headed towards the elevator and took rapid steps out of the station, rounding the corner and advancing on the constable, whose back was turned to you.
“Hilmarson!” you barked - Miranda flinched as she turned to face you.
“What did I do now? Am I not allowed to smoke or something?” She sounded agitated, and that made you even angrier.
“This is your fourth smoke break in the past two hours alone. If your habits are going to get in the way of your job, then I suggest you-”
“You know, you’re really stressing me out!” Miranda yelled back, gesticulating wildly as she spoke. “I’ll do my damned job, okay? You’re just really not making it easy.”
You laughed - it was hollow and sarcastic - and took a step closer to Miranda. Your face was inches away from hers now - this close, your eyes were drawn to her lips, soft and plush, trembling slightly with anger. A little scar adorned her top lip and your gaze lingered there for a moment, arousal pooling in your core - until Miranda brought the cigarette back to her mouth to take a drag.
Torn from your trance, you plucked it from her grip and dropped it to the ground, crushing it with your boot.
“Talk to me like that again and I’m sending you home for the rest of the day. Now get back upstairs.”
Miranda pushed roughly past you, her shoulder bumping into yours as she headed back into the station. You leaned against the wall and let out a loud groan, your eyes fluttering shut. Why was Miranda determined to make your day as difficult as humanly possible?
With a heavy sigh, you opened your eyes and pushed off the wall, following the constable back inside.
~~~
Your second day on the job started out significantly better than your first. You managed to eat breakfast, get coffee, and make it to work on time, all without getting a parking ticket or arguing with a certain constable. Miranda had been at her desk when you’d walked past it and, mercifully, hadn’t said a word to you - though you could feel her eyes on you as you disappeared into your office.
When you left your office for your lunch break, you found the main office empty - you figured most of your officers were taking their lunch break as well. You strode over to the little kitchen, reaching for the handle when the door swung open in your face - your body colliding with a much taller one. You heard a gasp above you and looked up to see Miranda standing directly in front of you, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in shock.
It was then that you realized your shirt suddenly felt a bit wet - your eyes fell to the half-empty bowl in Miranda’s hand, then to your torso, which was covered in milk and little pieces of cereal.
“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” you growled, pushing past Miranda and ignoring the apologies that poured profusely from her mouth. You grabbed a fistful of paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, quickly realizing that it was no use - you’d have to get changed.
You spun around when you felt a hand on your arm, glaring up at Miranda who looked down at you apprehensively. At your furious expression, she pulled her hand away as if burned. “Do you need help?”
Sighing, you closed your eyes and attempted to reign in your temper. “No,” you grit out. “It’s fine, you’ve done enough. I just have to go home to get changed, I guess.”
“Well if you don’t have a shirt with you then you can borrow mine?”
Your eyes flew open, meeting Miranda’s soft gaze before flickering down to her torso. “W-what?”
“I mean, I have an extra shirt in my locker.” Miranda gestured back towards the elevator with her thumb, a faint smirk playing upon her lips - the fact that you had just basically ogled her chest was not lost on her, apparently.
You could feel your cheeks turn red and you looked down at your own shirt, clinging to your chest - it had turned slightly see-through, and you could see your bra through the thin fabric. The drive home would cost you your entire lunch break, and Miranda did owe you for this… You sighed heavily.
“Yeah, sure.”
Miranda smiled, her eyes lighting up and crinkling at the outer corners - it was the first time you’d seen her properly smile, and it was beautiful. She crossed the kitchen and peered out the door into the office.
“The coast is clear,” she said with a grin, gesturing for you to follow her. You rolled your eyes and the two of you headed down to the empty locker rooms.
“I always bring something to change into after work,” Miranda supplied as she busied herself with opening her locker. “It might be a bit big on you but at least nobody will be able to see your bra.”
You started to unbutton your shirt, feeling Miranda’s eyes on you as you did so. It was hard to focus with the constable in such close proximity - you struggled with the buttons as you found yourself growing more and more flustered.
“Here, let me help,” she murmured, and before you could stop her, her hands were on the buttons of your shirt. Her fingers brushed against the swell of your chest, just above the fabric of your bra, and you shivered visibly, your mouth going dry.
“T-thanks but I got it,” you mumbled, gently pushing Miranda’s hand away. “Could you turn around?”
Miranda furrowed her brow, her face flushing. “Oh, sorry!” She placed a baby blue t-shirt on the bench next to you, then turned and studied the bare wall with great interest as you got changed.
“You can turn around again,” you said, clearing your throat. Miranda did as she was told, her eyes getting stuck on your chest for a moment before meeting your gaze. Your anger had all but dissipated, replaced with an unfamiliar and somewhat unsettling tension as you looked at Miranda, your stomach flipping.
“Uh, thanks,” you whispered. “For the shirt.”
Miranda’s lips curled up into a smile. “Yeah, of course. You know, I’m really excited to have another woman on the force. Last night I was looking into your case in Auckland before you got promoted - I talked to Robin about it, even she was impressed.”
For once, you were left speechless. For all the crap you’d given Miranda since meeting her, she seemed so genuine and excited to be speaking with you in that moment - you could feel yourself get flustered again, and all you could do was nod your head as she spoke.
“Oh, my lunch break is over so I have to go meet Robin but, uh, I’ll see you later, yeah?”
You nodded absentmindedly, stuck on the way Miranda’s hands moved as she spoke and the brightness of her eyes. She shot you one last grin before turning and taking long strides out of the locker rooms, leaving you to stand there in a daze, holding your wet shirt.
~~~
It was finally Friday and you’d been invited to go to the bar for drinks after work to celebrate the end of your first week - you stood in the lobby of the station, waiting for Robin to join your group before heading out.
Since the little cereal incident, you were trying to actively avoid thinking about, looking at, or talking to Miranda, but she was making that damned near impossible. When you’d returned her shirt back to her, freshly washed, she made sure to allow her fingers to brush against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. She wasn’t at her desk much throughout the day, off investigating leads with Robin, and for that you were grateful - but every time you saw her desk, littered with empty takeout containers, paperwork, coffee mugs, you felt a twinge of annoyance, followed by a sinking feeling of guilt that you couldn’t quite place. As a result, you spent much more time than you wanted sitting at your desk, dissecting your feelings for the blonde but coming up empty.
The door to the station opened and a civilian walked in with a small goldendoodle on a leash. A gasp sounded to your right and you couldn’t help yourself - your eyes followed the sound just in time to see Miranda crouch down and extend her arms towards the dog, which jumped excitedly up at her, trying to lick her face.
You couldn’t tell who was more excited about the interaction - Miranda, or the dog. The blonde was letting out little squeals of delight, cooing at the dog as she buried her fingers in its fur.
“Pull yourself together, Constable,” you grumbled, annoyed mostly at yourself for the way your stomach was reacting to the sight of Miranda cuddling the dog. It was childish and unprofessional… You most definitely did not think it was cute. Not even a little bit, no… You blushed and looked away as Miranda stood up, missing the look of disappointment in her puppy-like eyes.
After that, though, you found you couldn’t even enjoy getting drinks with your colleagues - your mind was going in circles and you were unable to shake off this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You sat at a booth near the back of the bar, nursing a beer as everyone around you joked around and slowly got drunk.
You couldn’t keep your gaze from wandering towards Miranda, who was seated at the opposite end of the table. She sipped her beer, smiling occasionally at something one of the others said - your eyes, once again, got stuck on her smile. The upward quirk of her lips, the subtle scrunch of her nose, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. When she caught you staring, however, she quickly looked away, the smile sliding right off her face.
It affected you more than you would care to let on - as soon as her smile was gone, you wished for it back - desperately. And it was stupid, really - she’d somehow managed to sour your mood every single day this week, and yet your body was reacting to her in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time. With a sigh, you drained your beer and ordered a second one - this was going to be a long night.
~~~
If you’d thought your second week on the job would start better than the first, well - you’d quickly find out just how wrong you were.
Monday morning started like any other - you strode into the office with your coffee to-go cup, passing by Miranda’s empty desk. There was a half-empty bowl of cereal at the edge, stacks of manila folders and paperwork strewn over the surface, an empty, crumpled paper bag from the local bakery that had been tossed unceremoniously onto the computer keyboard. It stirred up a twinge of annoyance in you, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling.
Looking up and seeing the blonde standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen, you quickly averted your gaze and hurried to your office.
Your mind began to wander as you answered your emails and a flash of blonde through the window in your office caught your eye. Miranda walked back to her seat, a mug in her hand. She reached her desk and distractedly looked up, talking enthusiastically with Robin as she placed the mug down on a teetering pile of papers.
You looked on in horror as the pile slowly toppled over, spilling coffee all over her desk - you couldn’t bear to watch anymore, dropping your head into your hands in frustration as you heard Miranda let out a gasp.
Not my problem, you thought, trying to take steadying breaths. It wasn’t your desk that she’d spilled her coffee on, after all.
You stood and made your way to your office door, calling out for Robin.
“Yeah?”
“Did you manage to get a copy of the autopsy results already? I really need them.”
Robin shifted slightly from foot to foot, a frown growing on her face - you really didn’t like the look of that.
“Actually, I sent Miranda to get them this morning.”
Raising an eyebrow, you looked past Robin at her colleague, who was frantically wiping up the spilled coffee from her desk. “Hilmarson, can I get those autopsy results?”
Miranda looked up, freezing in her movements. Her eyes darted between you and her desk and her cheeks were rapidly turning pink. “They, uh… Got a bit soggy.” She strode over to you with a piece of paper in her hand. You took it gingerly, a look of disgust forming on your face as the entire thing was brown and dripping wet.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” you growled. Miranda shrugged sheepishly and muttered out an apology - you glared at her in return. “I need you to get me a fresh copy by this afternoon.”
Miranda opened her mouth to speak but you interrupted her, balling your hand into a fist and crumpling up the paper, tossing it on her desk. “And tidy your fucking desk like a grown up,” you snarled.
Miranda’s face was red as she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the office, taking large strides towards the elevators and disappearing from view.
“She grows on you,” Robin supplied quietly, watching you watch Miranda. You snorted.
“I doubt it.” Your stomach churned uncomfortably even as you said those words. Why did this woman have such an effect on you?
“She’s been having a rough time, ever since the breakup with Adrian.” Your eyes widened at this piece of information - you’d known about Adrian’s affair, of course, but you’d never thought it would be with Miranda. “They were going to have a baby together, you know.”
You coughed, choking on your own saliva. “They what?” You couldn’t picture Miranda as a mother - she was far too clumsy and chaotic… and goofy. And generous. Okay, maybe you could picture it, a little bit. Your stomach churned uncomfortably - you didn’t know the details of the affair, but breakups were rough - you’d moved across the country after your last breakup. You suddenly felt ashamed for being such a bitch to her.
“Yeah, well…” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I have a lot of work to do, so if you don’t mind…” You forced a smile and Robin raised her eyebrows, nodding and leaving you be. You tried to focus after that but you couldn’t, your mind wandering quite insistently to a certain constable. Guilt began to gnaw at your insides after having been so harsh with her. You’d have to - you wanted to - apologize for your behavior.
You locked yourself in your office and finished replying to your emails. Even half an hour later, Miranda was still not at her desk - nor was she in the kitchen, the locker rooms, or the alley under your window. You finally found her behind the station, looking out over the water and smoking a cigarette.
“Hey,” you called, your heart clenching when you saw Miranda flinch as she turned to face you.
“Oh fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay, I-”
“I’m the one who should apologize. Robin told me it was you.”
Miranda’s face scrunched up in confusion. She dropped her cigarette and took a step towards you. “Sorry?”
“You know, with Adrian.”
Recognition flooded Miranda’s features and she dropped her gaze to the pavement. “Oh.” She let out a hollow chuckle and turned again, walking towards the water and lowering herself to sit at the edge. You followed and took a seat next to her, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you.
“Men are pigs, you know?” Miranda said after a moment’s silence. A loud snort escaped your lips, causing Miranda to laugh - you hadn’t heard her laugh so freely before, but it made your heart soar and you thought it might be your new favorite sound in the world. It wasn’t quite melodic, not necessarily akin to birdsong - it was loud and unabashed and very Miranda, and for some reason you found you really liked that. You couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“You’re alright, you know that, Hilmarson?” you said with a grin, gently bumping your shoulder into hers. Miranda’s laughter slowly died out but the smile remained on her face, accompanied by a faint blush.
“Thanks. You are, too.”
~~~
“Hilmarson.” You slung your jacket over your shoulder as you strode past Miranda’s desk the following day around noon. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped the pen she was holding, straightening her posture. “Come with me.”
Miranda scrambled to get up, slipping her phone into her pocket and following you to the elevators and out of the building.
“Where are we going?” she asked, confusion evident in her tone as she scurried after you. You bypassed the parking lot, heading down the street instead.
“You’ll see,” you said with a smirk, wordlessly offering Miranda a cigarette. She fumbled around in her pocket for a lighter but you were quicker, holding up your own. “Hold still,” you murmured, holding the lighter up to her cigarette and lighting it for her, your eyes catching on the way her long, slender fingers held it, as if it were a delicate thing.
Your destination was a nearby coffee shop, and you held the door open for Miranda to step through. “After you,” you purred, smirking at Miranda’s wide eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she scrambled into the cafe, waiting awkwardly for you at the counter.
“It’s on me,” you said before ordering yourself a latte and a sandwich. “Get anything you like.”
Minutes later, you were sitting together at a little table in the corner.
“Look,” you started with a sigh. Miranda tilted her head. “Can we start over? I haven’t exactly been fair to you. You aren’t the reason I was late last week. I was angry and took it out on you, and that was really shitty of me.”
“I did spill cereal all over your shirt, though,” Miranda murmured with a sheepish grin, her cheeks turning adorably rosy.
“Yeah. Yeah, you did,” you said with a laugh. “That’s not the point, though. You’re too good to let yourself get walked all over, you know that?”
Miranda shrugged, unable to fully meet your gaze and focusing instead on her panini, out of which she took a huge bite.
“Not by me, not by Constable Brown, not by Adrian - you’re a solid officer and you have potential, you just need to stand your ground more.”
“Oh god,” Miranda spoke through a full mouth, her voice slightly garbled, her eyes wide. “Is this a performance review or something?”
You laughed, your stomach flipping as her blush deepened. “No. I just…” You hesitated, biting your lip and looking away. I just really like you. “I just wanted to apologize. I want us to work together, not against each other.”
“Really?” Miranda grinned, her eyes sparkling - the hope written across her face nearly made your heart stop, and you nodded. “I was so scared when I found out you were my new boss. I really thought you hated me.”
“I did, too,” you said with a laugh. “But… for the record, I don’t. I hope you don’t hate me.”
Miranda’s cheeks puffed out as she chewed and she smiled widely. “I don’t.”
~~~
Ever since your lunch “date”, your feelings for Miranda were only growing. Your heart skipped a beat when you caught sight of her at the station, your stomach fluttered when you heard her voice. You even found yourself timing your smoke breaks with hers, just so you would have an excuse to chat with her and bask in her presence.
The following Friday at the bar, Miranda chose to sit down next to you. She placed a beer in front of you and offered you a wide smile - you felt your face flush as you muttered out an uncharacteristically shy “thank you”.
The two of you listened to your colleagues talk and banter - or rather, perhaps Miranda was listening, but you definitely weren’t. You were far too focused on the constable and your close proximity to one another; the way her shoulder bumped yours every so often, the way her hand flexed around her beer bottle, the way her throat bobbed whenever she took a sip.
Miranda laughed, throwing her head back, her shoulders shaking. She looked to the side, meeting your gaze - you couldn’t help but grin giddily back at her, chuckling a bit, and you could see her cheeks turn red as she returned your grin.
After your third beer, you started to feel a little daring - you placed your hand gingerly on her thigh, your touch feather light as you were afraid of crossing a line. To your surprise, Miranda placed her own hand on top of yours - it was warm and soft and large, and you could feel your pulse pick up as her long fingers curled slightly around yours. When you dared to steal a glance in her direction, you could see a soft smile playing upon her lips.
~~~
“Hey.” A low voice coming from the doorway to your office caused you to look up from your laptop. A smile involuntarily spread across your face seeing Miranda leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, her hands clasped behind her back.
“Hi,” you replied - Miranda hadn’t come into your office proactively since you’d started working at the station, but you supposed a lot had changed in the past few days. “Do you need something?”
Miranda shook her head. “No, I, uh, I actually wanted to ask if you’d want to come over to my place for a beer or something tonight?”
“Oh.” A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach at the prospect of spending one-on-one time with the blonde - who was looking increasingly like she was about to throw up, the longer you took to reply. “Yeah, yes, I would love to.”
Miranda’s eyes widened. “Okay, great. I’ll send you my address. How’s 7?”
“7 is perfect,” you said with a growing blush, chuckling as Miranda rushed back to her desk to grab her phone - your own phone pinged with a text moments later: an address.
~~~
You showed up promptly at 7, your heart pounding fiercely against your ribcage as you knocked on the door to Miranda’s apartment.
The door swung open to reveal the tall blonde, wearing the blue shirt she’d loaned you after spilling cereal all over you, as well as a pair of shorts.
“Blue is definitely your color,” you said before you could stop yourself. It really was, though - it brought out the blues of her eyes, making them shine and sparkle against her pale skin.
“Thank you,” Miranda said with a laidback grin, gesturing for you to enter her apartment. It surprised you to see that it wasn’t as messy as you’d have assumed it to be - it was definitely lived in, but it was clean and had very home-y vibes. More than anything, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It smelled like Miranda - light and clean, but with the faint scent of cigarettes clinging to the air. Her shirt had smelled like that, too, when you’d borrowed it, and though you never would have admitted it back then, you’d buried your nose in the fabric more than once before begrudgingly washing and returning it.
Miranda offered you a beer and guided you to her living room, settling on the couch and motioning for you to join her. The couch was relatively small and though you tried to leave some space between you, your knee ended up pressing lightly against Miranda’s thigh.
Despite your nerves, it somehow felt right to be in her space. You felt as though you were able to see a whole new side to Miranda - a side that you really liked. As the two of you engaged in some timid small-talk, you couldn’t help but wonder why she’d invited you - you hoped it was for the same reason that you’d said yes.
“God, I was so nervous to ask you to come over,” Miranda said with a cackle, shaking her head at herself before taking a swig of her beer.
“Were you?” The thought amused you greatly, and it gave you a shot of confidence. You dropped your voice an octave and leaned forward. “Do I make you nervous?”
Miranda looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes widening. Your eyes flicked briefly to her lips, to her wet, pink tongue darting out to lick them, and you found yourself leaning even closer.
“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” you murmured, scanning Miranda’s face for any sign of discomfort. Miranda’s pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly.
“I would kiss you back,” she whispered, her gaze landing on your lips.
“Yeah?” you whispered back with a smile. Miranda nodded slowly.
“Uh-huh.”
You closed the gap, your lips meeting hers - she tasted like beer and cigarettes, and her lips were impossibly soft. She kissed you back eagerly, whimpering a little as your tongue darted out over her lower lip.
You pulled back, your cheeks covered in a light blush.
“I’m sorry, I hope that wasn’t-” you started, but Miranda interrupted you with a second kiss, this one deeper and hungrier than the first as her hands grabbed your cheeks, holding you in place. Her tongue licked greedily at the seam of your lips, which you immediately parted for her. You let out a deep groan as her tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing with yours in near-desperation.
“You taste so good,” Miranda moaned, her voice low and sultry, and desire pooled in your core.
“Mmmh,” was all you could reply as your hands gripped at Miranda’s waist and you swung your leg over her lap to straddle her. Her hands slid down to your waist, then your hips, then came to rest on top of your thighs. She gave them a squeeze and you found yourself involuntarily grinding your pelvis into her lap, her touch sending your body into overdrive.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, Miranda swallowing your words as your bodies pressed against each other, a steady and suffocating heat building between the two of you.
The constable’s hands slipped under your ass and she turned you onto your back - breaking the kiss only briefly to position herself above you. One of her knees came to rest between your legs and she pushed it against your core, drawing a groan from your throat. The pressure was delicious against your aching sex and you bucked your hips to get some much-needed relief.
Miranda’s lips left your own and began to trail down your chin, your throat, your chest, stopping at the top button of your shirt - hot, wet, needy. She lifted her head and you looked down to meet her gaze - her pupils were blown wide with lust, her cheeks gorgeously flushed, her hair tousled.
“We- fuck,” you started breathily, finding it almost impossible to think as Miranda’s knee pressed against your clit. “We should slow down.”
Miranda nodded, her eyes widening and her cheeks bright red as she reluctantly pulled her leg away from your cunt. You bit down on your lower lip to stop a whine from slipping out at the loss of friction.
The constable settled half on top of you, leaning against the back of the couch and propping her head up on her arm. She closed her eyes as she tried to steady her heavy, ragged breathing. “Right. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with want. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Miranda’s eyes snapped open and she met your gaze, a slow, easy grin spreading across her face. “You’re not. I want this.”
“I don’t think I just want this,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and swallowing hard. “I want you.”
“I want you, too.”
You opened your eyes and met Miranda’s bright, eager gaze, searching her face for any hint of doubt or hesitation. “Are you sure?”
Miranda nodded and you lunged forward, your lips crashing into hers as your hand snaked its way around the back of her head, holding her in place. Your fingers threaded through her hair - it felt like silk under your skin.
Your other hand settled on her waist, tugging her on top of you - her body weight pressed you down into the couch and you groaned at the feeling. You needed more, you wanted more, so your hands found the hem of Miranda’s t-shirt and you slipped underneath it. Her bare skin was impossibly smooth, and you felt electricity coursing through your body at the feeling of her soft hips in your hands. Your hands found their way up her back and you raked your nails over the expanse of it, pleased with the hungry growl that escaped Miranda’s lips.
Finding the clasp of her bra, you unclipped it, slipping a hand around to the front of her torso and under the loose fabric to palm her breast. She grasped desperately at your waist as your warm palm rubbed over her nipple, rolling it into a hard peak. Miranda let out a breathy sigh and sat up, straddling your waist and pulling her shirt off. Her bra followed, and both were discarded on the floor behind the couch.
You felt the air leave your lungs as you stared up at Miranda - your mouth going dry. Her rosy nipples contrasted against her pale skin, her abdomen rippled with every heaving breath that she took. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch her, caressing her hips, her stomach, her breasts - flicking your thumbs over her pert nipples and watching them harden further.
Sitting up, you hungrily took one of the rosy buds into your mouth, sucking greedily and soothing your tongue over it as you felt Miranda’s hands thread through your hair. You repeated the process on her other nipple, thoroughly pleased with yourself when Miranda let out a soft, breathy moan - one that was so deliciously pornographic that you felt a wave of arousal course through you, your panties growing damp.
You released Miranda’s nipple, your hands drifting down to the buckle of her belt and making quick work of undoing it. Miranda took the hint, removing her pants in a hurry and then focusing her attention on your own clothes. Your own shirt was unbuttoned and tossed aside in an instant, your pants tugged down your legs and dropped onto the floor with the rest of the clothing.
Miranda’s bare skin was hot against your own and you pulled her back down on top of you, your pussy throbbing as her nipples brushed against yours. You kissed her with hunger and passion, your left hand palming her ass as your right hand found its way between your bodies to cup her pussy over her underwear.
The constable groaned, immediately grinding against your hand - you noticed that she’d soaked through the thin cotton of her underwear. You pulled the fabric aside and curled your fingers against the length of her slit, letting out a gasp as you felt her dripping for you.
“I need you,” she whined, shuddering as your fingers explored her folds - letting out a strangled whimper when you smeared her wetness over her clit and began to draw lazy circles over the bundle of nerves.
Miranda turned out to be as loud as she was sensitive - you found it easy to bring her to the edge, time and time again, your fingers applying a gentle pressure to her clit and pumping easily in and out of her, her slick walls drawing your digits in and clenching tightly around them. Her unabashed moans filled the air, echoing off the walls of the living room and having you wondering - only briefly, though - how thick those walls were.
After her fifth orgasm, when the stimulation finally became too much for her, Miranda whimpered and shifted her pelvis away from you. Taking the hint, you pulled your hand out of her underwear, your fingers shining with her arousal. You lifted them to Miranda’s face, smirking when she immediately opened her mouth and allowed you to place your fingers on her tongue. She sucked them clean, her flushed cheeks hollowing out, her kiss-swollen lips wrapped around your knuckles.
You leaned forward to kiss her as she released your fingers, eager to taste the remnants of her orgasm on her tongue. The taste was heavenly - you were almost sorry that Miranda was so overstimulated - you’d have given everything to go down on her.
She pulled back from the kiss, her hot, heavy breath ghosting over your face as she rested her forehead against your own, trying to steady her breathing. A bead of sweat had collected on her forehead and you reached up to wipe it away, tucking a strand of mussed hair behind her ear. It was too short, of course, and immediately fell back into her face - it made you smile, and Miranda smiled - no, beamed - back, her eyes sparkling.
“I hope that wasn’t too much,” you whispered into the silence - Miranda blushed and shook her head no. Her fingers danced along the waistband of your underwear, lightly at first as she leaned in for a languid kiss. Then her fingers curled under the waistband and began tugging, her lips trailing down your jaw, your throat, your sternum, your stomach - soft, warm, wet, hungry. She tugged your underwear down your legs, her lips immediately replacing the fabric as she pressed kisses to your mound, to your inner thighs - finally disappearing between your legs.
You felt her tongue lap hungrily at your folds, little noises of pleasure coming from between your thighs and vibrating against your cunt. It was both adorable and extremely hot at the same time, how eagerly Miranda ate you out - sloppy, yet determined (and very skilled, you noted mentally, letting out a filthy groan as her lips latched onto your clit, her tongue flicking at the sensitive little bundle).
By the time Miranda was finished with you, your thighs were trembling and your breathing was ragged. The constable pressed one final kiss to your clit, before sitting up and grinning goofily down at you. Her chin was coated in your slick and her cheeks were flushed, and you couldn’t help but loop an arm around her neck and pull her close, licking your own arousal off her face before meeting her lips in a slow, sensual kiss.
After what felt like hours holding each other, kissing and regaining your breaths, you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy and you sighed.
“I should probably get going,” you murmured, your voice slightly hoarse.
“Yeah - of course.” Miranda blushed as she pushed herself off you. “Can you just wait here?”
You nodded, furrowing your brows as the constable stood and walked out of the room. You heard the tap running, then she came back with a wet washcloth.
“Is it okay if I…” Her eyes darted down between your legs as she took a seat next to you.
It was your turn to blush. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks.”
Miranda cleaned you up with great care, being extra gentle as she soothed the washcloth over your clit. When she was done, you got dressed in silence, then allowed Miranda to walk you to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.
“Would you want to…” she trailed off, not quite able to meet your gaze.
“Are you busy Saturday? Would you like to go on a date with me?” You couldn’t help but smile as Miranda’s eyes widened and she began to nod, a look of relief washing over her face as her lips curled upwards.
“Yeah - I’m not busy, I would love to.”
“Good.” You smirked, leaning in to press your lips to Miranda’s - her breath hitched in her chest. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
You turned to leave, exiting the apartment and walking down the hall. Turning around to wave goodbye, you could see Miranda smiling as her head poked out from behind the door.
That night, you fell asleep with a soft smile on your face and a warmth in your belly - already mentally planning your date.
x
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What advice would you give someone who is writing poetry
Hey! I definitely have a lot to still learn myself as I'm quite new to my attempt at poetry (so I’d love to hear everyone else’s opinion/writing process in the comments) but since you're asking here's my take (sorry in advance if you just wanted a one-line answer..I’m not so good with that)..
In my opinion, poetry is all about provoking emotion..making you feel something..therefore “good” poetry is subjective due to the way individuals experience life and emotions differently.. In most cases (especially writing for fun/self-expression), it’s not something that needs to be technically correct (imo) like an academic essay, rather it just needs to make you feel something, so here are my tips/step-by-step process at this current time
Write for yourself AKA make sure that you like(love even) what you have written.. don’t write with other people’s interpretation/perception in mind (as “good” is subjective and you’ll never be able to settle on anything). You’ll feel much more motivated to write if you are encapsulating your own experience as accurately as you can (it feels productive to turn your pain into something more tangible).. Write the thing that you wish someone else had written that makes you think “damn.. that is so me” if you’re able to do that I’d call it a success. (My fav pieces still make me feel something each time I read them and make me feel glad I wrote them, as noone else had). I say this because we are all human at the end of the day if you’re feeling it, there’s likely going to be another human out there who is grateful that you have so accurately been able to translate a generally indescribable feeling into words.
To be able to do the above (make yourself & others “feel”) I’d start by reaching as far down into your emotions as possible.. Everyone knows about surface-level happiness, sadness etc. but what is it more specifically that you are thinking and feeling.. or what is something that you think you might feel or do if you were to become totally unhinged.. Imo poetry isn't the place to downplay your emotions or soften your language - say the things noone wants to say, the things that are “wrong” to say, don’t hold back, allow yourself to be violent, angry, sad, toxic, or pessimistic in your writing, even if you’re an optimistic/cheerful/kindhearted person irl (people are often SHOOK regarding the strikingly different persona I portray in real life vs my writing..we are all multifaceted creatures at the end of the day).
Now you might be wondering how to put the above into actual poetry..a lot of people will just “find the words” because they are talented like that, but for the rest of us.. Controversial (whilst beneficial)I don’t think an advanced vocabulary is necessary to write impactful poetry (my vocab is shit & has barely developed since I was 10 years old cause I stupidly stopped reading books until only a couple years ago).. So instead what I personally do is I write out in as much detail but in simple language, how I am feeling/what I want to portray..like you’re trying to express something in your diary or a text message you’ll never send… At first, this is going to look like a 10yro has written it and that’s so fine because you want a clear understanding of what you’re trying to portray in your piece.. now all your related thoughts are out, attempt to rewrite it in a way that is slightly more comprehensible (usually I’ll write it in notes app so I can still have the original versions to refer back to to make sure I am encapsulating what I originally wanted) and basically rewrite a couple times until it appears more refined
Then, your original wording might be perfect as is (I would say always go with your gut feeling) but the thesaurus and dictionary are your best friend!(bless google) If a certain word kind of “ruins the vibe” of the piece and it no longer feels “poetic” just google synonyms for that word, you can even search “synonym poetic” for further options. Don’t just use any synonym though.. If you’re undecided between a couple words I would highly recommend googling the specific definition of each word and compare, because usually definitions will have a very nuanced difference and that nuance can make all the difference in being able to accurately portray your point.
Have fun with the spacing, the lines the layout, the use of grammar (idk the terminology).. utilise these things to transform everyday sentences into an art form! Don’t get caught up in the right or wrong!
Now reread, you want that poetic rhythm of some kind, a state of flow.. Read in your head, then read out loud then read with your own experience in mind, then detach your mind from your own experience and read from an external point of view if you wish! Reading out loud will help you see if it’s readable (duh) and the wording problems, whether that be needing to change word or remove a word or add a word will likely fix themselves! I personally would focus more on emotional impact than aesthetic but ideally a bit of both is great!
This seems like an in-depth process but all this usually occurs within about 5-10 minutes per poem cause I don’t have the attention span to spend any longer on it (maybe oneday I’ll actually refine my work properly lol but for now it’s just my form of therapy). You’ve got this! <3
Other random things I’ve learned
-Keep a log of specific words, phrases, sentences, ideas etc. even if not at all refined in your notes app on phone as you randomly think of them so you can potentially come back to it later! (If you don’t you’ll likely forget and never think of it again lol)
-Sometimes the most simple thought/concept to us (based on the fact it has circled in our brains for a lifetime so we are bored of it) can be super impactful & significant to others, so just write it anyway
-Go with your gut feeling if you’re tossing up any of your ideas, words, expressions
-Remember that quote “art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable ” - you’re never doing toooo much
-personally ive had to drop the academic ego and learn to be more than okay with being shit..you’ve gotta just do it and accept most the things you’ll write could be shit but it’ll mean there is opportunity that you write something decent amongst it all.
-DO NOT compare yourself to other people writing poetry cause it can be so disheartening!!!! we are our own worst critics.. just remember we are uniquely ourselves, no one else can write the way we write.
-PRACTICE!!!! But basically just do that by writing as much as you can. I know it’s always said but seriously I started writing daily 4 months ago and whilst I wasn’t actively trying to improve there is a massive difference noticed by myself and others between the quality of what I wrote 4 months ago and now.. It’ll just start to click! I write every day but some days I don’t have it in me to write a poem so I’ll just write a thought or feeling or diary entry for that day to keep the routine plus you can possibly come back to it for poetry inspo.
-fake it til you make it !!!! poetry is expression !!! anything can be poetry if you want it to be :)
-I also read not long ago that writing isn’t something where you peak in your twenties (thank god for me) but rather a lot of writers become successful a lot later in life! So this gives me a lot of hope that things can only improve! Considering I was able to improve in 4 months, imagine 4 years or even 1!!(exciting! I hope I get much better!)
-If you want to know how to be more creative, more metaphorical or a lot more visual with your poetry.. Don’t ask me.. In fact I need tips myself!! I’m going to guess it has something to do with my shitty vocabulary.. I hope that I can challenge myself to improve with this overtime as well, but for now I find it cathartic to just work with my literal thoughts and emotions. Similarly, if you want to know how write about uniquely positive experiences hmu in the future when I’m more healed but maybe not yet lol.
CONGRATS if anyone actually read through all this… you deserve an award! (let me know if anyone actually did and if it was at all helpful) I hope you can find even just a component of this somewhat helpful??!! maybe it was all obvious who knows haha but also please remember I’m not very experienced in writing poetry myself, this is just my attempt at keeping myself sane :) All my love x
Edit: as someone else mentioned.. another great tip is to READ lots of poetry written by others, this will help immensely :)
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HEYAA. I’ve been so obsessed with ur MK stuff lately it’s insane. Wondering if I could request a little blurb with Steven? 🙏 Maybe artistic reader who uses Steven as a muse of sorts? 🎨 Maybe Steven finds reader’s sketches of him and Reader is like embarrassed 😨 that he may be uncomfortable with it? Add and change up anything you’d like!! 😽 ur my fav writer thank you 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼❤️❤️
Your Drawings Look like Heaven to Me
꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦
Summary: Steven always enjoys your drawings and art, big or small, painting or simple sketch and doodle. But he's a bit surprised when he discovers that you have a habit of drawing a certain muse that you have.
Warnings: There's nothing that I can actually thing of other than it's mentioned that the reader draws Steven when he's unaware, but I don't think it's that bad. Also 'Y/n' is used once.
Author’s Snip: This was meant to be just a little blurb but I got the writing equivalent of zoomies. You asked for a cookie and I made you a cake with layers, frosting, and toppings. This is insane how did I do this. I think it's because I've been drinking a monster while writing this. I have paused the video that I was previously watching in the background because I am so focused. I'm not even joking this shit is 1517 words long and that is before I proof and grammar checked it. I think this might be the longest writing I've done thus far. Enjoy your free cake, anon.
Notes: This is written in the lens of a world where it's just Steven, so none of the actual events in the show happen.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦
Steven always knew you drew. You met at your jobs at the museum, at the time, you were working the front desk while he of course worked at the gift shop. The two of you weren't all too familiar with each other since you only saw each other in passing. You knew him as Steven from the gift shop, and he knew you as Y/N from the front desk. You did learn more details through others. Steven was a chatty guy who had an impressive knowledge about Egyptology and mythos. And you were the person at the front desk who did nothing but sit there and draw all day when not granting visitors entry, or in most cases, taking a second to scan a preprinted ticket and check the schedule.
Steven heard talk that you were really talented in your art. You were able to draw what were basically pictures of things you saw or even made up. He hadn't seen your actual art till one day he found you sat where he usually did for lunch, drawing the statue man that he talked at everyday. And wow, were they right about how well you could draw. Though while you talked to each other you laughed "Well of course I'm able to draw him perfectly. He doesn't move.".
That lunch break was a long time ago. You two started dating between then and now. Steven managed to leave the museum for a new one that actually let him be a tour guide. You eventually managed to find work that let you use your skills in art instead of using it to beat the boredom of your job. And you also moved in with Steven in his little flat, in which he cleared out some of this clutter to make a space for you to work and make your own.
You would draw little doodles for Steven to have. Like Gus swimming around. An Egyptian god that you made using his books as a reference. You even drew him a little alligator with a speech bubble saying "Later" on a sticky note. He still has it by the way. He laminated it using clear tape and has it in his wallet as a pick-me-up when he's upset or as a lucky charm of sorts. You always made drawings for him. But never once had he thought that you would make drawings of him. Let alone how many drawing you made of him.
Steven isn't a man who likes to snoop around regularly, feeling a massive sense of ruining someone's privacy. But you said that he could always look through your sketchbooks and art pieces if he wanted, as long as it wasn't a commission that was still being worked on, which he respected. You, like any other artist, had a plethora of sketchbooks of different sizes that served different purposes. There were your personal sketchbooks, outline and testing sketchbooks, practice sketchbooks, a lot of sketchbooks with a lot of different things they were for. It amazed him just how many you had and how you were able to remember which is which.
He knew which ones were ones he gifted you though. Steven was never confident when it came to gifting you supplies. He wasn't an artist himself so he didn't know what was perfect and what was something you would say thank you for out of courtesy. One of the things he used as a safe play were sketchbooks. The bookstore he frequented had a section of art stuff and found that the sketchbooks were not only great quality but also had various designs on their covers. So he'd get you one almost every time he went.
When he looked at them on the shelf next to your desk he realized that he had never actually seen inside of those ones. He was a bit hesitant to grab one since he didn't know if you would want him to. It's not like he could ask you right now. You were out running some important errands and he didn't want to bother you. However, they were on the part of the shelf that you put all your regular personal sketchbooks, which he was allowed to look at so he took a one random from the collection and flicked through the pages.
Out of some coincidence, it was the first sketchbook he got you, which was admittedly one he got you before he learned what pages were good for actual art. The first few pages were doodles that were likely from testing how the paper held up with the actual process of drawing which soon stopped and the rest of the art was actually taped on like they originally belonged to another sketchbook.
Steven thought of that as a clever use for the pages. You would sometimes make art you thought was nice on miscellaneous papers and would simply take the piece with the art out and stick it somewhere else. But he soon notices a theme amongst all the doodles and drawings, which then follow into all of the other sketchbooks he gifted you.
Him.
Most of the drawings in these sketchbooks were of him.
They were all different. Some were him lounging around or taking a nap. Something that would have made him unaware of you creating a drawing of him. There was one that was him asleep laying in bed from what would be your side of the bed. His face was calm, the limpness of his arms and body was captured perfectly, the sheets drawn with the most accurate wrinkles, and the lighting gave the impression of the light of the morning that came in through the curtains. It looked like you simply took a picture of him while he slept but it was clearly a sketch drawn using a pen and pencil.
There was these bust and face portraits that spanned through out the books, of course of him. The first were already so good in detail considering these had to be drawings of him from memory. But they only got more detailed as they went on. You managed to get his amount of stubble right. You had the little baby curls that lived along his hair line. The crease between his eyebrows he had since he always had a slight anxious expression. That tiny little dimple that he had next to his nose that he didn't know existed until you pointed it out one time.
Steven's mind was boggling to him to see such detailed drawings of him that looked so carefully done even when they were simply quick sketches. They were life-like. They were him. They were Steven. To be honest, how could it not? You see his face all the time. So why wouldn't you have him completely memorized. It was just the fact that you had taken time and pages to draw him and him alone.
It was a bit jarring, for the both of you, when you walked through the front door with a hand full of groceries and other things from your errands and he was seen looking at all the drawings of him. You were embarrassed that he finally saw all your drawings of him and worried that he would think it was weird. He thought that he crossed a line and breached your privacy.
You two avoided talking about it till Steven finally did during dinner later that evening.
"You, uh, draw me... a lot." Steven spoke. "Yeah. I do." you blush as you avoided eye contact in case his eyes showed that your fear of him finding your habit with drawing him was strange was correct. "Why do you draw me so much?" he questions. You sighed, "It's sort of a habit I formed." you confess. You proceeded to explain how it started,
"I first drew you as an exercise to get rid of some art block. I usually draw faces of people I know as a means to do that. So I drew you. It was okay. But when I looked at it a couple days later I thought that I could do it again to improve on detailing some more. Then I used you as a study for lighting and colors.".
"Then, sometimes, I would just draw you when I thought you looked pretty or thought of you. And that's sort of what I've been doing." you explain further. "I thought you would find it weird if you saw all the times I drew you and so I just put them in the books you got me and hoped you wouldn't see them." you say in a timid manner.
"I don't think it's strange. I think it's actually quite flattering." Steven clarifies. "I was just surprised that you think of me as something worth drawing. Especially with such detail." he remarks. You breathe a sigh of relief at that.
"If I'm entirely honest, love," Steven spoke up, "Never tell me that you're drawing me from where I am. I'll get nervous and possibly ruin the position that you're drawing me in." he remarks.
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your fav mello/near fics??? thank yeww (also love your drawings!)
oohh this reminds me i should pick up my ff.net archival reclist project up again...
it is of note that it's been a looooong while since i've combed the archives and there's a couple of common tropes i don't usually read due to personal taste, so i'm sure there's a lot of good fic i'm unaware of and/or forgetting about! this has totally renewed my interest in making a comprehensive personal reclist >:) perhaps i'll come back and edit this post every now and then.
i owe comments to nearly everyone mentioned here i am SO sorry. it's a lost skill that i am working on developing again. at the very least i've got everyone in one place so i can go down the list this year. i encourage everyone reading from this reclist to leave a comment too!
i wrote "off the top of my head" but this got VERY long so under the readmore it goes
obligatory classics
• the famous @tierfal 's sidetracked (2010) and full of surprises (2009). rated e and m respectively. these are like the allegorical little black dress in the wardrobe of the platonic ideal of the mellonear oneshot. seem to be pretty well known across the ship fandom
• stripped (2009) by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire on tumblr. explicit. i haven't read this in a while but i remember it capturing the delicate gossamer tension of the ship in a way that was sooo bittersweet and nostalgic.
• to speak of rules and privilege (2008) also by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire, gen, a manifesto on tenderness, soooooooooo soft, changed the game, near being afraid of thunderstorms was immediately adopted into personal canon. big time influence for the way i write near and mello's pre-canon relationship re: big brother, little brother.
• an understanding (2008) by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire, rated T, short and sweet, razor sharp prose, the aesthetics of the little piece live rent free in my head.
• dual(2011) by ramasi, @ramasi here i believe. rated m. historians say this might be one of the first examples of mellonear choking kink ever recorded,
•scarification (2012) by gacrux11 on fanfiction.net, rated m, big time dead dove do not eat. sorry this one leans early 2010s era grimdark melodrama but i love it sjkdfkjfd. not enough dead dove fics about the boys if u ask me.
• salt in the wound (2007)
•tempus fugit (2007), and
• white out (2006) by vaudevillain king on fanfiction. net. a beloved rare find. all of them are rather grimdark edgy products of their era, but some of the best the era had to offer. they make me so nostalgic for my teenagehood on fanfiction.net. i get the impression these might've been written even before death note was finished?
• birthday smut (2009) by kleine_aster on livejournal. explicit. this one is SO funny to me because it is both really, really good, very in character, but unfortunately it suffers from almost satirical misogyny that afflicted fujoshis back in the day. near literally is like oh that bitch... like. he would not fucking think that but i can edit quickly in my brain as i read. bisexual mello rights! otherwise really sexy imo. i might be writing something that's kind of in conversation with this fic.
RARE finds
(please tell me if you enjoy any of these, i want to feel like an explorer that's brought back treasures from far away lands)
contemporary favorites:
• you've heard about it before and you will hear about it again: the archer ensnared (2023) by jabbernatty, rated e. a jessaerys obligatory syllabus read, the fic that made me go fulltime yaoi disease. i owe so much to jabbernatty they are my white whale my friend my enemy the writer i've psychically imprinted on from the beginning. honestly too scared to even leave a comment given the jessarys archer ensnared lore. may one day may contact and pray i don't come across as insane
• postmortem (2023) by the_hemlock true gen, a favorite of ALL time. it's only tangentially mn really, it is 99% about near trying to piece together the mystery of lawlight post-canon, but the characterization and prose are some of if not the best i've ever come across. reads like it could be a piece of canon material. if you only read one fic on this list i'd pick postmortem.
• it's friday i'm in love by neallo/@neallo rated m. possibly my all time fave in the neallo cinematic universe. something about the after-hours longing and the standing in the kitchen by the refrigerator lights, as the poets say. i love when stories feel like you're cutting out a window to peer into a larger universe that is just out of reach. perfectly captures what it is like to have a maddening crush
• i want to hold you (hostage)(2023) by neallo/@neallo rated e. thee defining fic of this current modern mellonear era. manages to walk the line of kinky/sexy/sweet/fluffy all at once. plot twist of the century in the last chapter. near is properly as bananas insane as mello is in this fic, which is the marker of a good mellonear dynamic. really everything by morgan neallo is a safe bet for a great read
• there's nothing i want but you (2023) by neallo/@neallo rated t. wammy's era mellonear obsessiveness that is soooo teenagery and yet a portent of just how codependent they might one day get. cute and ominous.
• armageddon/kill game (2024) by bolide/@bolide-archive came out of nowhere a couple of months ago and ascended to the top of the game like a dark horse. rated m, chess au. one of my favorite interior mello narrations and one of the most similar to my own interpretation. such naturally talented prose. i rotate lines from this in my head all the time. still in progress but i have faith that it will be completed :')
• how to burn down the sacred loom (2023) by dornishviper/@vriskarlmarx a contemporary CLASSIC. the less you know going in the better. beautiful prose, beautiful structure. they don't make fic like this anymore
• the house always wins (2023) by mer_curia/@vivi-scera. screaming with my mouth closed. holds a special place in my heart given that it is my posting that convinced vi to give the ship a try, and i was rewarded with a fic that is so catered to my tastes i honestly had to read it through my fingers. SO good, the manifesto on wammyscest, so rather controversial. heed the warnings.
• moonlight (2023) by tsukinousagi/@quicktimeeventfull rated t. an austere, cold little glimpse into a vampire au. it's giving let the right one in. so melancholic. one of the saddest near examinations out there.
•proximity tells (2018) by abysmallypresent, rated m. truly lives up to death note's second-by-second minutia while managing to keep up the tension the entire time. great characterization.
•silhouettes (2015) by bad blood/eroticcodependence,
@wxmmyshouse on tumblr. unrated, post-canon compliant. made me CRY! elegantly short and simple, bittersweet and so so wistful.
•arsonist's lullabye (2023) by tzviaariella/@tzviaariella. rated t. this one has a heart-wrenching air of realism to it that exists outside the chaotic universe of death note, one of those examinations of picking up the pieces after the titans have all gone away. very bittersweet.
honorary mentions
• let's die somewhere prettier (2020) by firesafinething also one of my absolute favorites, unfortunately it is discontinued and it is likely it will never be completed. sad! the premise seemed SO promising. in my mind i file it right next to postmortem mentioned above. the exploration of the tragedy of 27 year old near we could have had in a better timeline. one day i will leave a comment so good maybe it will bring back the fic from the land of the dead
• august underground by me & @firebuggg rated e, in progress. >:) (shamless self promo)
#death note#meronia#mello dn#near dn#mihael keehl#nate river#mello#near#fic recs#this took so long to compile dfkgjfdjkgfdjk
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An Empty Ramen Bowl
~ itto x reader ~ (Fluffy, Slow Burn)
summary: ((based off the storyline of my own Genshin! OC)) Reader is an Inazuman born and raised, known for her prowess and academic achievements in her field along with her dedication to her talent and heartfelt career: the owner of her own high end restaurant. Starting off a bit slower than she’d like, a certain oni takes a liking to her place, the food, and the person running it.
author’s note: hello!! i wanted to start writing again so here’s my first piece after a while! might make a series if it doesn’t flop, please enjoy me writing about my fav and indulging in him 🙏🏾❤️
~~~~
New days meant new chances to grow. New days meant new sunlight that hadn’t touched the earth yet. New days meant more time not to waste!
With the hum of a kettle in the other room, I sat myself up and stretched, enjoying the warmth of sundays through my window before flipping the blankets from my body and swinging my legs to the other side. with yet another stretch, i deemed the noise of the kettle unbearable and got up to turn it off.
The kettle steamed as i poured some in a cup to make my tea, knowing i’d have plenty to eat once i got to my restaurant. “The Ramen Bowl” wasn’t my favorite choice to use as the restaurant name, but when asked out of the blue by family members with a crate in hand, you make up pretty… creative things on the spot. And i hated not sticking to my word so here we were.
with tea in hand and a good enough down my throat, it began to really start off my day. A shower that lasted no more than ten minutes, washing every aspect that needed to be to function through my day. washing my face and brushing my teeth came next, along with putting on lotion and fixing up my hair to be presentable.
i had set my usual outfit out the night before, as i usually did, and slipped into it seamlessly. socks and shoes were next, followed by my bag and keys along with the menus’s id made to restock the ones that had flown away in the recent storm. thankfully no real damage was done.
with the start of my day finished, i turned off every light and blew out every candle id lit, the sunlight from open windows illuminating my home even more than preivously said sources had done. i walked out into the beautiful world and locked my door behind me, another good day. another chance to make more customers.
the commute was short, i didn’t live far from the city, just outside of Konda Village overlooking the vast sea surrounding my nation. i enjoyed the walk, it gave me more reason to wake up everyday. enjoying the sights, picking fruits from the trees that had them hanging from their branches. avoiding any samurai and hillichurls (to the best of my ability) on the paths. i wasn’t all too worried about the samurai, that were looking for fights but not enough to refuse food or smaller amounts of mora like some sort of toll.
arriving at my restaurant, i once again recognized how.. off putting the location seemed. just behind the Komore Teahouse with a small slanted walk way down to its entrance, if you didn’t know my restaurant was there you’d have guessed it was a storage unit for the teahouse.
a down payment of 60,000 mora and monthly payments of 5,000 mora didn’t exactly get you as much as you’d think.
i kept the walkway clean, the entrance spotless and the counter that opened up to an outdoor bar area with the front drink and order counters just behind it could be seen, the kitchen behind a wall that was just behind the drink counter.
my key fumbled in the lock just a bit, a nod to the rusted lock that seems to deteriorate every time the key was inserted. many things needed to be fixed, but those many things weren’t the cheapest or the most important. nobody was stealing uncooked noodles and radishes anyway.
my usual routine for opening was complete, with cups, the new menus, chairs, appliances turned on and my ingredients in their respective places, on came to the most pressing matter of the day, advertising to passers—
“Hellooo!!” a voice called, making my skin jump from my body at the booming sound. i stood in the kitchen, readying my signs and posters as a few dropped from my startled reaction.
a customer? already? i just opened and this was new a voice id never heard. no one had came by yesterday, no one let me know they’d be coming. what if it’s the health department? would they come to check-
“Excuse me? is anybody there? i saw your sign by the walkway, me and my gang are pretty hungry but take your time!! i see you’ve only just opened so no rush!” the voice called again, snapping me from my thoughts to the realization that not only was it a customer, it was multiple customers.
i rushed to the gap between the kitchen and the front counter before catching myself and taking a breath. professional, you must be professional.
i stepped out into the space and laid eyes on a group of men along with a shorter woman in purple. one of the men in particular was large, an understatement at that. he was heavyset with muscle, sporting a well fitting cape with a chest adornments that exposed most of his chest and midsection, to which red markings could be seen vividly. he wore baggier pants from what i could see from my spot behind the counter and red markings down his cheeks as well. two red horns sat atop his head and white hair with red tips framed his face.
the woman beside him as mentioned before was smaller, having sat herself in a stool to more properly scout the area i presumed. she wore a black decorated mask and thigh high leg armor, purple throughout her look. her hair was green and pulled into what seemed like a spiral in the back of her head, her midsection also clearly visible in her attire.
the group of men behind them were pretty less stylized, wearing matching outfits that seemed to be uniforms and what i assumed to be the case as the voice i’d heard called them his “gang”.
“Hey, there you are! i was worried the place was abandoned.” the taller male laughed, same grin on his face and a menu in hand.
“Good morning, i understand you’re open?” the woman began, ignoring the male’s boisterous remarks.
“Uh yes! Yes, we are open, welcome to The Ramen Bowl will all of you be dining?” I asked, looking once again over the sudden many people standing at my counter. counting up to five, i gulped, but was determined to do good work as i’d always promised myself.
“you betcha! the arataki gang is starving and one of my men noticed your shop so five bowls of your best ramen, please!” he once again smiled, his hand on his chest in prowess from the mention of what i guessed was his gang name.
the woman turned to him and muttered something i couldn’t quite catch, but when he made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth and a nod followed by mumbled ‘gotcha gotcha gotcha’, i prepared myself for what was next.
each gave me their order from the menu of eight meals, each ordering something different to which i was a little hesitant to tell them i was working alone and to apologize profusely before hand for any long waits. but i simply nodded my head and thanked them for their order, telling them they’d be out shortly and got myself back to the kitchen.
working as quickly as i could, i was able to finish the order in about an hour; a little longer than i had hoped but with the help of the pyro vision on my hip and a mission, i put the bowls on a tray and added all of the add ons for every meal, along with chopsticks and a chirirenge for each bowl.
I walked back out with the tray above my head to the counter to see the five still sitting in their stools as the white haired man laid his head on the counter in seemingly anguish. but as he got a whiff of my approach i don’t think i’d ever seen a man get so excited for a meal.
“I apologize for the wait, here are each of your orders, enjoy!” I smiled, happy to have worked a small sweat with a bigger order after not having many in a while.
each person seemed pleasantly surprised with the meals, each having a different reaction from utter surprise, scarfing down their food, a small smile after every bite and so on. i couldn’t prevent the smile that spread across my face at the sight, how i enjoyed watching my food be enjoyed.
i decided staring at my customers eating without something to do was pointless (or just creepy) and reluctantly walked back into the kitchen, cleaning up my stations and putting pots and pans and such in the sink to be cleaned. i stashed away the extra ingredients i’d put out just in case of an emergency and was proud of myself to not have needed them.
“Ms. Chef!!” The familiar voice called again, recognizing it as the man who was larger than life at my counter. i put down my rag and walked back out to the front, a smile on my face as i looked between the five, most bowls already empty if not almost finished.
“Yes? How was the food? i hope it was to your—“
“This was delicious!!” The man yelled, his men and the woman beside him nodding in agreement if not giving their own remarks. tossing his head back to scrape what sounded like the actual porcelain into his mouth from his bowl, he slammed the bowl down on the counter to emphasize his claim. “i haven’t had ramen this good in forever! can i get another bowl?” he asked.
the woman beside him gave him a look and he immediately withered into his seat. “Scratch that,” he huffed, a suddenly defeated look on his face.
“I can make you another! on the house, i don’t get as many customers nowadays so i’d like to thank you for coming!” i chirped, adrenaline running through my veins.
the woman wiped her mouth and put her mask back on, placing her chopsticks and chirirenge on her bowl to finish. “the food was wonderful, thank you for the meal, and i appreciate you accommodating my boss his appetite is certainly larger than most. i cannot however not pay for the meal.” she said, putting out a pouch and handing me the respective mora for the food, along with extra to pay for the meal i was about to prepare for the man beside her.
“Ohhh thank you, Shinobu!! you’re so kind!!” he cooed, hugging the woman who seemed unfazed by the action with her arms at her sides with a slight nod.
“you’re welcome, boss, i’ll take the gang with me and we can meet you in the center of the city to continue the next meeting.” she replied after he had released her, getting up from her stool along with the other three men that had accompanied them, the three waving and giving their thanks with proud bows.
“alright i’ll be there soon!!” He called, waving as the four left, turning back to me with a big smile. “alright let’s see this menu again, everything looks so good i had to bite my arm just to pick one the first time! how could i pick one the second?” he said, seemingly talking to himself although it also felt as though he was prompting me.
in response, i stepped forward and pressed my fingertip to a bowl that i enjoyed making and had named my signature dish. “this one’s delicious in my opinion, i enjoy the process and also eat it myself as well if you’d like to try that, sir.” i recommended, removing my hand before he could say much.
he looked over my recommendation and nodded, as if deciphering a puzzle. “well if the chef recommends it how could i pass that up? a bowl of your famous ramen please! but hold the beans, im deeeathly allergic and not exactly ready to go out like that.” he laughed. folding his arms over themselves on the counter.
“understood, sir!” i smiled, making a mental note of this deathly allergy. i turned to leave after he gave his order before he raised a hand with another ‘hey!’
turned back to look at him expecting another accommodation of some sort.
“you don’t have to be so professional, miss! i’m Atataki Itto, the one and only i’m sure you’ve heard of my many fantastic and good deeds around inazuma and have been smiling so hard as you’ve been in the presence of my—“
“i apologize, sir but i have not heard of you, actually.”
“.. oh. well now you have!! feel free to call me arataki itto, or just itto, or whatever other amazingly cool nickname you can think of for me,” he shrugged, flashing his suddenly contagious smile.
“i’m (Y/n) (L/n), it’s a pleasure to serve you, Itto.” i replied with a small bow, slightly happy about his happy personality as it seemed. “your order will be out shortly.”
~~~~
Read Pt. 2 here!
(hope you enjoyed!! let me know if i should change anything! advice is appreciated!)
#arataki itto#itto x reader#genshin itto#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin oc#genshin impact itto#arataki gang#genshin arataki#fanfiction#genshin fanfic#oc#fanfic#story#read more
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Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?
Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "cursedvibes "?
I called myself "cursedvibes" because I thought that's the kind of impression the fics I want to write give off. My first beta reader @kaitakushi agreed (hehe) and so it was decided. As for fanfics, I'm not really gonna rank them but more list them by fandom...
JJK
Complicity by SenZen_Travers
Mahito/Kenjaku and my favourite fic of their ship. The characterization is really good and this might sound silly, but I'm glad Kenjaku is allowed to bottom here for once (very rare with Kenjaku ships in general unfortunately...)
King's Ascent by Acromos
Unfinished, but best Sukuna/Uraume fic I've ever read. Uraume is asexual and nonbinary. Love the world building and general prose here. Most of the chapters are focused on how the two grew up and they only really meet in the last one, but it's still incredibly good.
CSM
Well Prepared by Gay_as_fuck
Fic about Santa Claus and Tolka, his feelings for her and how she used him and gradually turned him into a weapon. There are only two fanfics about Santa Claus on AO3, but I'm glad this is one of them, it has exactly what I'm looking for. It's sweet, but also eerily creepy.
Houseki no Kuni
Shards of the Two of Us by undeadrabbit
Technically Kongo/Phos, but their love is platonic. Absolutely wonderful, kind of like someone wrote down all my thoughts about what happened between scenes or you got some additional canon material. Very heartbreaking to see them slowly drift apart and hurting themselves and each other despite still caring about the other.
Naruto
xenograft by Misfit_McCoward
AU where Sakura becomes Orochimaru's student while he's in Konoha and they do lots of experimentation together, on humans and animals alike. I like how Sakura slowly gets sucked in deeper in Orochimaru's machinations and loses any moral qualms she would otherwise have about the research they are doing, going so far as to compromise her own health for it. Just the sort of Mad Scientist story I like.
Be It Ever So Humble by Orochimartyr (ffnet)
A civilian enters one of Orochimaru's abandoned bases and inspects what has been left behind. I love stories that show the horror we are often familiar with in a story from the perspective from an outsider, especially if it involves the discovery of medical malpractice. There's a creeping sort of terror as we discover with this person what happened and piece together what horrible acts have been committed here. It actually really influenced my writing and was what I always aspired to write as well.
JJBA
can you tell that I like the Pillar Men?
I'll Follow You by Opus_Love
A Kars and Pillar Men origin story with Fix-It elements to it, since this is the 37th version of Kars we follow and this time he has the chance to make things right and not lose everything only to be cast into space. I especially love the slow development of Esidisi and Kars relationship and the little tidbits of information we get about the society they originated from.
We turn that old wheel round again by dratinigirl
AU where Kars lands on Earth again after being shot into space, but it's present day and Esidisi has been incarnated as a regular human, which gives Kars quite the culture shock. Very sweet, a bit angsty, but all ends well.
Youth, Man, and Father by dratinigirl
Another Pillar Men origin story. What can I say, I love the whole culture and society people come up with and I'm a sucker for EsiKars slowburn.
Monster
Five Roads Home by Lindra (ffnet)
Post-canon. Dieter and Johan bond over the child abuse they suffered and how it affects them even now. Johan is being cagey of course, but still more friendly than during canon events. It feels in-character though. Also found it nice to see Johan living as a woman now, but removed from the identity of "Anna".
#order of fandoms doesn't mean anything either it's just how I have my bookmarks organized#asks#jujutsu kaisen#chainsaw man#houseki no kuni#naruto#jjba#naoki urusawa's monster
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Hey!
Just wanted to say that I a a huge fan of your MasterGrinder artworks, and I've probably said it before but I am saying it again, they are all so lovely!
They have inspired me to write several different stories, and I've just published the first chapter to one story tonight!
This is the link, but only if you want to read it, of course!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/55174846/chapters/139924744
I know that it is not a scene depicted by your works, and if you would rather not be associated with a darker story, that is perfectly fine! But I was hoping to credit you for the inspiration you have provided me with those beautiful pieces of art!
If you do not want me to credit you, just let me know!
Anyways, I hope you're having a lovely day, week and year so far and I just want to say again, I love your art!
Your Sokol is so cute and Dallas is so handsome! I love them both! :)
Ahhh! Thank you so much! Yes! Of course, I remember your kind replies! having mutuals in the same ship is a huge motivation to keep making fanart of them♡
I really enjoyed your fic and want to read more! And sorry, I am terrible at describing my thoughts but note: your fic made me rob a few banks recently.
And thanks for the willingness to credit me but since the causes in the fic aren't originally mine, I don't bother how you depict them! there's just happy Neom, reading a new fav ship's fic.
Talk about the originality of headcanon, who would say that Dallas isn't the first member that a newcomer will meet? especially since Sokol meets the Butcher before arriving in America, possibly he smuggled some parts of BFD and needs a ride to the safehouse privately. and In Crime.Net, we can hear Bain's description of Sokol that he reminds him of younger Dallas AND he might be the one who leads the Payday gang in the future. it's a clear clue that Dallas is the person that Sokol would look up to!
(this made me ship them a bit too much because turning admiration into affection is one of my favorite dynamics heehee<3)
I hope you have a nice day and week and year too, as you made mine u_u
+I'm sorry for all who don't receive my answers…. actually, I drew things to answer but it always turned out not in a good condition than my usual posts. also I deleted scribbles for this ask because it looked ugly ;_;
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Mortarion is my favourite boy, so can i please get various shipping headcanons? (the boy needs a hug from Sanguinius complete with wings wrapping around him)
Oh honey you just hit my FAV poor lil meow meow!!!
Mortarion, and how he would work in various ships (chaos edition)
Magnus: Magnus/Morty is the most delicious enemy to lover. There is a thousand possible scenario for those two! Magnus seeking the second most powerful psycher in the family, Mortarion having to deal with witches... There is so much things to write about them! They would balance each other quite nicely too, with Magnus hopeful optimism and Mortarion pragmatism coming up to a more even result. Tho, I think my all time fav scenario, of how they could get together, is this: what if as a child, Mortarion send out a psychic distress signal as he was abused by Necare? And what if that signal was picked up by kid magnus, and a strange, long distance relationship started?
Alpharius Omegon: The hardest one for me to figure out. I can see them being fascinated by how unwillingly Mort is being used by the Imperium, or maybe them being assigned together in the hope their tactic rub off on Mortarion and he get less causality. Sorry, I'm running a bit dry here.
Horus: Horus is, canonically, one of the two primarch Mort has any attachment too. I usually see them as having more of a big bro/lil bro relationship, but it could easily be Mortarion pinning away at him too. Or Horus having that sweet secret romance! You can add some drama to it, and make it so that Mortarion is *Horus* side pieces, and he feel like trash about it. He wants! To be loved!
Angron: Mortarion has the best apothecary, and hate slavery. The Emperor could have given him to Mort in an attempt to help, and I feel like,at the very least, Morty would have been able to find drugs good enough to calm him down a bit, or ease his pain a bit. Angron would have probably seen a friend too in Mortarion, someone that was chained to the Imperium, and who also held no illusion toward their role.
Lorgar: You have unlocked my secret fav crackpair hehe. It's actually, so, so easy to ship them: you make Mort realise that Kor is a piece of shit. Mortarion, with his hatred of abusive dad, would start to do everything to protect Lorgar. And our sweet Urizen would look at him with bug eyes like "is this affection?? I now love you mind, body and soul." They would be a violently intense pairing, that swing between wild fight and incredible tenderness. And if you want to add spice? Lorgar can worship him, as someone choose by nurgle. Nurgle, being a deity of fertility on Colchis, would probably mean sexy time, wich would make their relationship EXTRA messy. All in all, 11/10 one of my fav.
Fulgrim: Fulgrim/Mort is actually really not that far fetch! First of all, they both adore Konrad, so that is a nice starting point. Following that, you basically just need them to sleep together once. Fulgrim, being himself, would make it the most amazing of time, and poor touch starved Morty would be hooked. Completely smitten. Not only that, but while he thing that all the fancy manners of Fulgrim might be for show, he would absolutely respect his working man background and admire his talent at making things. Fulgrim would also adore plumping him up, and pampering this poor, broken soul.
Perturabo: Another one of my guilty pleasure! Take the two big bitter resentful bastard, and see what happen!!! They would annoy the hell out of each others, and yet, they are SO similar. I want Perturabo to talk about birds, while Mortarion show him rare flowers. I want them to be their best and their worst together. The kind that hurt one another, but can't stay away. Toxic in all the right way.
... and Konrad: Listen. LISTEN. If GW is gonna write in the codex that those two are best friends, and then NEVER MAKE THEM INTERACT.... Then it's free real estate, I don't care. They are besty. They know each others secret hobbies. Mortarion enjoy Konrad weird bones craft, and Konrad is touched by the array of carnivorous plants he's gifted with. They cuddles, because no one really get them like each others. They have this tense friendship, like so many queer youngster had. The one were you aren't sure if it's friendship or attraction, were you kind if want to kiss the other, but knowing that it would change everything between you two, you stay put. They see each others at their worst, and only love the other more for it. I adore them. My precious.
I'll come with a loyalist list soon ;)
#warhammer 40k#warhammer#wh40k#primarch#fulgrim#konrad curze#perturabo#primarch headcanon#magnus the red#mortarion#horus lupercal#alpharius omegon#lorgar aurelian#angron
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*Kicks imaginary door open*
I LOVE YOUR WRITING 🗣🗣🗣
Do you have any headcanons for Ran? Relationship, domestic (if that’s their bag), n/sfw, or otherwise? I will take any crumbs you can spare
*hides behind imaginary coffee table turned on it's side*
THANK YOU SWEET NONNY! ❤️❤️❤️
I'm so glad to see all these Ran requests coming in! More love for Ran! 🖤
Here's some of my thoughts on having a relationship with Ran and just some general thoughts as well;
(NSFW, MDNI)
I HC that Ran identifies as pansexual, with a lean towards the ladies (yes I might be projecting with that last bit).
Also think Ran has a preference for polyamory, both romantic and sexual. But if you're not one for sharing, they would make an exception.
Related to the above, Ran probably has more than just a friendship with Dustin and you can bet they'll occasionally ask to include him in any bedroom activities. (I personally would not be interested)
Also suspect Ran and Sevika have a secret history of bedroom shenanigans. Don't be surprised if a threesome is in store for you with her as well. (Might be projecting my own desires again 😆)
Kinks and toys galore! Ran has an endless number of kinks, far too many to list, so don't ever think something you're into is weird. Chances are Ran has already done it, loved it, and perfected it. Has enough sex toys to run their own sex shop. Everything from plugs to floggers to the St. Andrew's cross sitting in plain site in their bedroom. Hope you like a little pain and fear with your pleasure, cause that's one of their favs. Likes to use those twin blades they carry around on their back for a little knife play.
Dom. Top. No exceptions. Ran is 100% in charge at all times. Likes to give pleasure, not receive it- at least not directly. Ran definitely gets off watching you lose yourself under their ministrations. Now that's not to say they won't respect your boundaries, or your safe word, because they definitely will. But if you like to be in charge, Ran is not for you my friend.
Keeps their clothes on while you're completely nude. It's a sort of power trip for them.
Not particularly affectionate, but won't turn you down if you try to cuddle up to them or sneak a kiss. Just don't expect Ran to initiate it unless they can clearly see you need it. If you're looking distressed after a particularly wild night of new or hardcore kinks and toys, Ran will be extra gentle and tentative as they clean you up and hold you against them in bed.
Not much of a talker.
Doesn't like to express their feelings much.
Quiet and mysterious- an observer.
Likes to focus their attention on you. Your words, reactions, and mannerisms.
Has no issue with teasing you in public, rather enjoys getting you hot and bothered. Playing that billiards game with Ran and the gang? Ran will ghost fingertips, be it flesh or metal, along the small of your back or any exposed skin. You had better be prepared for a hand on your ass or between your thighs if you bend over to take a shot. Ran has zero shame.
Very protective! Not in a 'you're mine and only mine' sort of way. Ran will share, as goes with the territory of polyamory. But if you're in any danger, be it a physical threat or being bullied, they are there with those blades or their fists at the ready.
The first time Ran brings you to their "room", let's just say all the rumors you heard still weren't enough to prepare you.
Ran holds the door open wide, allowing you to step into their room first. However, you take not more than two steps into the dimly lit room before becoming rooted to the spot. Your head slowly pivots as you scan the... dungeon? Sex dungeon? Sex shop? Whatever it is, it sure as hell is not a bedroom. Not with the amount of toys, implements, freaky furniture and... machinery? You're not even sure if the large piece of furniture in the center of the room can be considered a bed. Perhaps it once was, with it's mattress and four posts, but certainly not anymore. Not when almost the entire perimeter is surrounded in black metal bars, almost like a cage. A series of chains and leather straps- more than you have fingers or toes to count them on- are attached at various points around the bars. And there are no sheets, at least not your average cotton or silk sheets. Instead the mattress is covered in some sort of slick, waterproof covering.
Oh dear Janna!
Eyes and mouth agape, you turn to Ran, only to find them watching you intently, the corner of their mouth ticking up ever so slightly. Amused by your reaction no doubt.
"Is- Is this your... bedroom?" you ask, clearly dumbfounded. When you receive a simple nod, you clarify the question, "Like, you actually sleep here?" This time you get a shrug of their shoulders, and you're not so sure you want to ask for clarification. Probably something about 'not much sleep happening here'. Taking another glance around the room you find yourself truly at a loss for words, or thoughts for that matter. "It looks... fun," you state dumbly.
"It is," Ran says quietly as they step past you.
You follow a few steps behind them, gawking at the vast collection of plugs lining a set of shelves you pass by. Every size imaginable. Every color. Every material. And then there's another set of matching shelves, housing just as vast of a variety of dildos and vibrators. Even more shelves, with a plethora of handcuffs, rope and other restraints, from which you notice Ran grabs a bundle of black rope. Yet another shelf- with all manner of gags, including a ball gag that you watch Ran also take.
Ran finally stops in front of a small table that holds what looks to be an electronic device in a storage box filled with... attachments? Ran picks up a long metal object that looks like a prod and plugs it into the device.
Gawd Ran's room is fucking hot. Literally and figuratively. It's creepy as hell, and yet you can't deny how much that excites you.
You can feel beads of sweat form at your temples, a blush creeping down your cheeks and across your neck.
Then Ran turns to you, toys and gadgets in hand.
You feel your heart skip a beat, taking in how their dark lips curl just a tad higher. You're certain that's a sign. You're in for something... wild tonight. And Ran's question only confirms that.
"Want to play?"
AN: For those of you who enjoy my work AND Ran, you can check out my Ran x fem!Reader oneshot on AO3 or here on Tumblr. 🖤
#arcane#Ran#arcane Ran#Ran x reader#arcane Ran x reader#Ran imagines#arcane Ran imagines#honey writes
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Cap-IM Rec Week Day 3
It’s All About AUs today!!! AU’s are my favorite, when talented authors take my favs and put them in a completely different situation and world and still makes them recognizable. Whittling it down for today’s rec list for @cap-ironman was especially difficult, but here are five of my favorite kinds of AUs.
(By Any Other) Name by Captain_Panda
When Steve went down with the Valkyrie, he thought his days with dragons were over.
Then he meets Tony Stark, who inherited Howard Stark's dragon.
As the kids say: "It's complicated."
This Dragon!AU series is my favorite dragon AU. The world building is excellent, as is the relationship developed between Steve and Tony. I think I’ve read it a half dozen times and already look forward to the next reread.
Knight of Wands by Sineala
Steve has reigned as king for ten years, and in a few days peace will finally come to his kingdom. Representatives of the Kree Empire are soon to arrive for the negotiations that will end the war between them once and for all. Steve is looking forward to settling down, with his hand-picked Avengers at his side -- led, of course, by the masked knight Iron Man -- and also his trusted advisors, the most beloved of whom is Tony, his court magician, the most powerful mage in all the land.
But when Steve's life is endangered, Tony makes the greatest sacrifice of all to protect his king, a sacrifice far greater than his life. And when Tony disappears under mysterious circumstances, Steve learns that even his closest friends keep secrets that he could never have suspected.
I have a soft spot a mile wide for King/Lionheart stories, especially when Steve is the king and Tony is advisor/wizard/knight. It’s just a perfect dynamic, and as always, Sine is flawless at telling a story.
I Whisper Your Name on Each Star I See Falling by JezebelGoldstone, littleblackbow
The day Natasha first told Steve her idea, he never would have dreamed that her fool notion would land him here: watching the train roll into the station and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that somewhere in there is the man who agreed to marry him.
Steve, an alpha farmer living outside a small town in the Rockies who doesn't want to admit how lonely he is, has been exchanging letters with omega Tony for nearly a year. When at last Tony arrives in Big Eden, Steve is confronted with the fact that he doesn't know Tony as well as he thought he did - and falls for him harder than a landslide anyway.
This one is hard--arranged marriage au’s are near and dear to my heart, and picking just one was near impossible. But how soft Steve is with Tony in this one breaks me every time I read it, so--here you are.
Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree by Annie D (scaramouche)
Steve doesn’t mind that Tony doesn’t return his feelings. He just would've preferred if it didn’t come with the side effect of his coughing up flowers and possibly dying.
I struggled between hanahaki or soulmate AUs, and decided on this because I’d put soulmates in an earlier list this week. Hanahaki is both beautiful and heartbreaking, just the way I like my fic. This one is amazing.
ad astra by Areiton
The first time he kissed Tony Stark, the stars danced overhead.
Ok, I might be cheating a little by including my own AU here, but. I really love this one? It’s a space AU which I always love, and plays with the movie from 2019. Anyway, it remains one of my favorite pieces of writing.
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For the fic writers’ ask:
47. If [insert fic] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.
48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?
49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!
50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!
Plus 37 and 38.
only answer the ones you feel like answering (and only if you want to!)
Thank you for the ask!! So many omg im gonna love this
#47: If [insert fic] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.
Hmm. Let's go with the last fic i posted for this, just for funsies. If Marked as His was a pair of shoes, they would be... a pair of those big, shiny, black demonias, yanno? a set of these bad boys—
which, actually, I just learned that these are called Gravedigger 250, which is very fitting. I want some now
#48: What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?
Oh, actually, the last fic i read was not one piece! I was feeling nostalgic and who can resist combo grant gustin and wentworth miller? Not me, that's for sure.
Well, truth be told, I was reading two at the same time—Timeless and Love Me, my two absolute favorite fics for this fandom and this pairing <3
i'm not gonna ramble about that since it's less one piece, which is what i'm mostly about these days, so moving on...
#49: What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!
I'm doing a lot of zine work! However, there's a couple that i am more than happy to talk about!!
I've got one that's thanks to the optwt4gaza on twitter—a Kaido/Doffy focused fic that takes place pre-canon, though i guess it's a little canon divergent. I do love putting Doffy through all the wringers XD
Another is for my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card! I have a request form live for it rn, and this is (way overdue) the product of one of them! It's for the prompt "hospital stay", and I got a lovely crocorosi prompt from @gendervapor14~
"It was just as well, since moments after he laid back down, there were sounds of chaos just outside his door. Heavy footsteps followed by lighter ones, a protesting voice and snapped retorts, before silence. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they spoke in hushed tones, and then the lighter footsteps moved away. A nurse, maybe? But he still didn’t understand what was going on.
Everything was made abruptly clear when the door to his room swung open for the second time since he had been conscious. In the doorway stood—
“Crocodile?!”
The man stood in the doorway, frozen, more disheveled than Rosinante had ever seen him. Strands of hair fell in disarray around his face, loosened from their usual slicked-back style. His shirt was wrinkled and untucked, his vest didn’t match his pants, and were those—was he wearing mismatched coffee and carob-colored shoes? What the hell?"
This is my favorite bit so far. it just makes me giggle <3
#50: Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!
oooo, question of my choice. let's see...
I'm gonna go with #17: What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?
Listen, I've had a Weakness™ for this movie since the dang day I saw it, and that's Pacific Rim. Every fandom i join/read fics for, I search for Pacific Rim aus. I've written a whole bunch but never published them, because i never feel like they're good enough for what i have in mind. They're intoxicating, and yet, an unattainable goal. someday i wanna write a good one that im proud of :)
#37: Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?
promo time! I'm gonna go with my one of fav fics I've written so far—Shared Cigarettes. It's based off of two other works that are absolutely gorgeous, so check those out as well if you take a peek <3
It's a corabelle fic! It was a fun lil drabble i used to explore prose, and I'm really happy with how it turned out. It does have that "doomed by the narrative" aspect to it, though, so beware XD
#38: Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?
yeah, actually! It's this one: Nightmare, which is basically just lil luffy going to Doffy and croc for comfort after he has a nightmare. It got waaaaaay more popular than i ever expected, especially for being so short!! I do love it, and it's one of the earliest OP fics i ever posted, so this really boosts my morale whenever I feel a lil down in the dumps <3
Thank you for the lovely questions! <3 these are so much fun to think about
(dang this post got long. Here's the questions if anyone wants to ask away/reblog for themselves!)
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Writeblr Positivity Tag
I was not technically tagged by @winterandwords but I'm still grabbing it from the open tag, and leave it as such :)
1. What motivates you to write?
If I don't do it, no one else will write what I want to see.
2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)
Gonna pick the lines that finished a 300k words project spread over 2 novels and 2 novellas :D
“But are you?” he asked after a moment, a hint of uncertainty on his face. “Happy, I mean. Is this how you imagined it?”
Merridy looked from the airy, creme-white curtains to the shimmering rainbow glass shards, and out the window, where in the distance the ocean sparkled in the sun. She raised her gaze to Damien, his eyes fixed on her as if nothing else mattered.
“No,” she whispered. “It’s better.”
3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?
We all know how obsessed I am with Damien, but another char that makes me happy is Riordan. I mean — how could a char I introduced as "fancy boots" not make me smile?
Between all the sad guys and tragic backstories, he's just happy and kind (and a bit naive and rude :D), with a nice family, a good life and some fun quirks. He's absolutely the friend Merry and Damien needed.
4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?
Finishing. Finishing a chapter. Finishing a book with the last little piece fallen into place. Finishing formatting. Just. Being done with something. I am constantly haunted by the fear my interest might vanish before I am done, so being done is... awesome.
Also then I get to make my friends cry then, so that's that.
5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)
Sadness :)
6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?
Writing can be so very lonely. Spending hours upon hours putting silly little words into a silly little document, no I can't show you anything because I am not done, but listen to me talk about my char you don't know so you don't understand anything about what I am saying.
But here, we all understand the struggle and share the excitement.
7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)
Uh. Nothing really exists. I used to write in txt files, now I am in google docs so I can share more easily, which means I have at least a basic spell check now (which is nice, but also no google, I'm not talking about his sons.)
I guess InDesign (some shitty version from 2007) and Calibre are closest - I use them to format my books for printing and as ebook. Calibre is a rock star. InDesign is also the only program I've found so far that correctly fixes straight quotation marks in existing text when pasting in.
8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)
I am a sucker for tying all stories together in some way — recurring characters and places through standalone books, stuff like that. A lot of it is conveniently put on the back of the Order of Fire. It's an order dedicated to gathering and preserving knowledge. They have citadels all over the place, they need scientists, scholars, mercenaries and housekeeping staff, they can connect people from different parts of the world when I need it.
9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?
I don't know. There's so many reasons for a "rough patch", and every single one requires different advice. For example, "take a break" would be the worst thing I could do right now.
Your story is worth it. Only you can write it. Yes, even if it takes time. Yes, even if similar ones exist. Yes, even if it contains unpopular tropes. Yes.
10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters
I have a list of my fav works here and I appreciate everyone who ever read my stuff and left a like or comment 💜
But as for support, @alittlewhump @verkja and @starlit-hopes-and-dreams are single(triple)handedly keeping my sanity up. I've found my people in more than one way, and I will stick to you like chewing gum you stepped into. I love you.
Template below the cut:
1. What motivates you to write?
2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)
3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?
4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?
5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)
6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?
7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)
8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)
9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?
10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters
#salad-tag#fun fact: the developer of calibre is also the developer of the terminal emulator I use#kitty ftw#I do think that line will be edited a bit once I get to it#*looks at calendar and sweats*#but for now
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i just wanted to post this pic by itself cause i’m so proud of it. i can say that it’s definitely one of my best pieces i’ve worked on. if you couldn’t tell- Monty is my fav and i love him dearly🥰this took me forever to finish and it was on my old ipad that is now dead and gone so i’m glad i recovered it and transferred it to my new one.
if i could get comms then i might put the same amount of effort into them as i did this drawing. drawing is a bit eh to me cause sometimes i’ll get motivation and then i’ll be dead in the head for like a week or two. i decided to open comms cause i’ve become a bit proud of my work and i wanted to see if others liked it as well. i’m sure if i start drawing more and posting more art then i’ll get bigger but that’s future Araya’s problem😌☝️
anyway i hope you all have liked the art i posted so far! next i’m gonna go into details of some of my ocs i’ve drawn and explain their backgrounds cause i love my ocs and i’m terrible with writing actual stories.
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Oh my gosh I just took the damnation quiz and IT WAS SO GOOD. I read all the results and I am patiently sitting and waiting for more with immense excitement (especially Pomefiore and Diasomnia. You write Vil so well). I am super curious to see the roles MC will play in those fics. Iirc both the evil queen and Maleficent had a crow henchman that seems like a great fit, but also the invented role for Diviner was 10/10 and I would be so curious to see what you come up with, especially for Pom as some of the major roles at the Queen's side are already represented in the dorm.
In the quiz the endingsvwere all fantastic, but I especially adored the Riddle ending. The King of Hearts idea feels so obvious once you wrote it but I have never seen anyone use the idea before. The general dynamic was just AAAAHHHH. I also loved how MC interacted with the other characters. I screamed when Cater dropped the tea about the old king of hearts. I might have been converted into a Riddle fan--
I read your fics on Quotev back in the day (Possession of Malign was a fav of mine) and it was always a mood of "finally some good f--cking food" I am so glad I found your work again. :))) Hope you are having a great day and thanks again for sharing your lovely work!
Ah, I wish I got a little further on Scarabia's chapter but I've started classes so it's gonna take even longer to write (because they dumped work on the first day, WHO DOES THAT?). Anyways, I'll get it out eventually, I'll probably have a tiny bit of time to write on Friday and the weekend. Maybe. Hopefully. Pray for me y'all.
To be honest, I haven't decided what Diasomnia's mc will be because I haven't gotten that far. At the moment I'm trying to go in order, but if I get an idea that I really want to write, I'll switch over to the draft doc for the other dorm and start writing what I want to before switching back to where I was before. And actually, I had a sneak-peek for Pomefiore and Scarabia's part before! It was in the first one with the Heartslabyul sneak-peek, but I decided to remove the two and just update sneak-peeks in order, with each being about ten pages, more or less. Pretty generous and lengthy sneak-peeks, if I do say so myself. But the Pomefiore one will be up later, the Scarabia one will be first (again, when I have time to write for it).
But I'm glad you enjoyed the quiz and the results! I think Heartslabyul appears to be the fan favorite at the moment. Hoping to copy the goodness and intensity I had for that result into Scarabia, but again, we'll see.
Also another Quotev user that's giving me flashbacks? I started writing that stupid fic when I was in middle school, but I didn't publish it until early high school. That's insane though, I forgot that piece existed. Okay, moving on, I hope that when the next results are completed, that you may enjoy them! Thank you for reading my works, even the older ones!
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