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#because writing is the only thing i have ever been any good at
staryukis · 2 days
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✰ f!reader x roomie!gojo ✰ smut (MDNI), making out + dry-humping, satoru cums in his pants lololol (…but so do you) ++ here is some actual roomie!gojo writing based on this and this ...i wrote this with one hand btw ✰
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it always starts the same and ends the same— what started as an innocent movie night for you and your roommate ended with him pulling you into his lap for possibly the hundredth time in the last few weeks, his hands grabbing your waist firmly as you pressed yourself against his chest, making out like neither one of you had ever kissed anyone before.
satoru wouldn’t have it any other way. he hopes you don’t mind, either; though he’s sure that’s the case already, if the way you eagerly kiss him back is anything to go by.
the sound of your lips smacking against his is the only thing that resonates in your ears; the tv has long since drowned out behind you. you can feel your heartbeat steadily picking up, thrumming against your ribcage and muffling every other noise in the room that isn’t directly coming from satoru.
testing it out, your tongue swipes over his bottom lip briefly; you hear a small groan rumble in the back of his throat. just as you’d expected, the sound was as clear as day to you— it echoes in your mind and only serves to make you press yourself harder against his chest.
he hums again, hands tightening their grip around your waist, feeling his eyes roll back in his head even though they’re already closed. he’s certain that he’s died and gone to heaven, because the feelings swirling in his chest and low in his gut are so amazing it makes him feel like he’s floating— like he could walk on water and turn that very liquid into wine.
(he briefly wonders if that wine would taste as good as you do.)
there’s a moment where your lips slow, mouth parting further against him for a moment before you’re pulling back. it’s like clockwork— you both make out for a few minutes, you pull away for a breath of air, clear your throat, and then you climb off his lap. the two of you move on with the acknowledgement that the air around you is charged with something intense, and it’s part of the reason why he keeps coming back for more throughout the day.
he expected this already, so he keeps his eyes closed; savoring the feeling of your swollen lips for now, how plump they feel against his own as you pulled away from him. he can feel the string of your saliva connecting you two; he doesn’t need to open his eyes to see the way the thin liquid stretches until it bows and snaps, making his mouth feel wetter than it already was. his own lips part for a small breath of air, one hand subconsciously sliding up your back, and his eyes flutter open in mild surprise at what you do next.
he’d expected you to have climbed off his lap at this point, but when he opens his eyes he catches a glimpse of something in your own gaze before you’re leaning back in. maybe you’d been encouraged by the slide of his hand along your spine, arching into his touch and reaching out for more. he doesn’t really have the time to go over it in his head because all his thoughts are jumbled the very second he feels your lips pressing against his again.
okay, okay— this is fine, he’ll just kiss you back for a few more minutes and then you’ll probably want to pull away for real this time.
but that… doesn’t happen. he swipes his tongue over your lower lip again, and he feels his chest tighten when your lips part eagerly, accepting the slip of his tongue inside of your mouth. you both usually stop before it gets this far, this heavy, but right now he can’t bring himself to— and neither can you, apparently.
his tongue enters your mouth and swirls around yours, and you tighten your grip on his shoulders at the way the sensation shoots through your gut. it’s not long before you’re both panting loudly into the kiss, louder than ever— messily kissing each other and shoving your tongues down each other’s throats.
the air around you feels hotter, you feel hotter. satoru’s grip can’t seem to relax from the way he’s moving his hands erratically along your sides. everything is making your blood rush south and something pulses to life between your legs; and when you shift against his lap to press yourself further into him, that’s when he knows he’s too far gone— his cock immediately twitches in his pants.
he stutters, breaking the kiss briefly for a breath of air, but then you’re shifting over him again and he feels himself start to strain his pants further. he blinks, wanting to stop this before it gets too far with you, his roommate— but he’s acting on pure instinct and unbridled desire at this point. his head rolls back onto the cushion behind him, hands tightening around your waist to keep you still over his lap, chest rising and falling rapidly.
you breath fans across his neck with every pant that leaves your lips, and you blink at him for a moment. you have half a mind to climb off his lap now but there’s a dull ache low in your gut and, for some reason, you think he needs to be the one to do something about it.
“‘toru,” you mumbled, sliding a hand from his shoulder over to the side of his neck, cupping it gently. you hear the way his breath hitches, his adam’s apple bobbing over his throat as he swallows thickly before replying.
“jus— just a second, i’m—…” he stammers, swallowing again. unbeknownst to you, he’s trying to will his dick to soften up again (as if it’d been soft at all from the moment you climbed onto his lap, but that’s not the point). “i’m just catching my breath.”
you hum, somewhat uncertain. you decide not to question it, but you know there’s more to it when you try to move off him, only for him to pull you back down onto his thighs with a small grunt.
“sator—”
“wait, just—” he lifts his head up now, meeting your gaze. despite trying to relax himself he doesn’t want you to stop just yet; there’s this desperation in his eyes that only serves to make you throb harder, the urge to press your thighs together for some friction now stronger than ever. he feels your thighs clench around his own and he’s now given up entirely on trying to calm down.
your hand cupping the side of his neck slides to the back of his head, scratching your fingers along his scalp, and his breath hitches once more. your start at his undercut and move up to the longer strands of hair, and then you’re firmly gripping the back of his head and pulling him back in for another rough kiss before you can change your mind.
he groans this time, loud and unashamed, the sound rumbling from the back of his throat and slipping out past his parted lips. your hips shift over him again, moving closer to his abdomen, slotting right over his—
he freezes. you freeze. your lips slow to a stop but neither of you pull away, nor do you open your eyes. you wonder if satoru can feel you throbbing through the layers of fabric separating you two.
his eyebrows furrow for a moment, and he nips at your lower lip a little impatiently.
“do you want to sto—”
“no.”
your answer comes quick, firm and resolute. you swallow nervously for a moment, the ache between your legs only growing, and you can now feel the way his own arousal is growing steadily, too. you’re absolutely lightheaded.
he inhales sharply and then presses forward again, now pulling you ever closer above his crotch. your bodies are now completely flush together, lips moving in sync with each other, coaxing another noise to bubble up in satoru’s chest. you’re still panting and your hips jerk slightly on their own accord, a moan threatening to break past your lips at the brief friction it gave you.
satoru mumbles something against your lips, pulling back slightly so you could understand him better.
“do it,” he murmurs, his forehead leaning against yours while he gazes at you through white lashes. “if it feels good for you, then do it.”
your own lidded eyes blink at him for a moment, jaw going slack before you nodded your head. carefully, slowly, you rolled your hips forward, rubbing your mound against his growing erection, and almost immediately your eyes roll back into your head at the sheer relief you feel. he feels his own mouth drop open as he watches the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, steadily setting a rhythm over him with the encouragement of his hands on your waist.
“fuck, that’s it,” he groans, eyes threatening to close from the friction he’s finally getting on his cock. “make yourself feel good, that’s all i want… fuuuck—”
his words make you whine softly, your face heating up instantly. shyly, you duck your head forward, letting it land in the crook of his neck to hide your face from him. he laments not getting to see your lust-filled eyes anymore, but then his lips brush against the shell of your earlobe to whisper more obscenities in the form of praises while you rock your hips against him. you’re certain you’ve soaked all the way through your pants by now.
“shit,” you panted against his neck, moving faster, gripping his arms tightly when he started to aid your movements with his hands over your hips. “that— that feels so good.”
“yeah?” he breathes, nipping at your ear when you nod against him. his own head finally drops down into your neck and he inhales your scent, feeling himself grow impossibly harder. his hips start to buck up slightly, and the two of you moan in tandem.
he’s not sure when it got to this point anymore, the two of you rutting against each other so desperately, not even really making out anymore. you’re both hiding your faces in each others necks but there’s no hiding the sounds you’re both making, soft whines and moans now filling the humid air surrounding you.
satoru feels so hot and he’s never been so hard in his life; the way he’s straining his jeans is making him feel like he’s going to cum at any second. the pressure he feels low in his gut is steadily rising the more he feels and hears you against him, and he’s certain this is the fastest buildup to an orgasm that he’s had since he was a teenager.
and he can tell you’re getting close too, from the way your hips momentarily stutter over his.
“you gonna cum, angel?” he moans, not wanting you to slow the movement of your hips for a second. when you whine and nod hastily he briefly takes over, gripping your waist hard enough to leave bruises, helping your rock your hips faster over his own. the consistent friction from his clothed cock against your pulsing clit makes your mouth drop open in a silent gasp, your eyes crossing one final time as a particular buck of his hips finally pushes you over the edge.
a small squeak leaves your lips, followed by a sharp gasp as you come undone from the inside out. you gush inside of your pants, unintentionally moaning his name into his neck, and that alone is enough to send satoru tumbling over the edge with you. he cums hard, white briefly flashing over his eyes as he moans deeply into your neck, soiling his boxers with his own cum. he bites down onto your shoulder as you both ride through it, your bodies sweaty underneath your clothes and rubbing against each other with no rhythm whatsoever.
it takes a while before the two of you slow to a stop, panting heavily against each other’s shoulders. neither of you have bothered lifting your heads, too stuck in the post-nut haze that surrounded you both. satoru can feel your body starting to finally relax and go limp over his own, but he’s not sure his cock is softening fast enough in his pants for him to relax with you.
(that’s an issue for later, he thinks to himself.)
he swallows thickly, his throat feeling dry from all the sounds he made. “you, um— …you okay?” he mumbles, finally lifting his head from your shoulder, gently coaxing you to do the same.
you nodded against him, instead tightening your grip around his arms to stay in place. “yeah, just… just want a few more minutes, like this,” you mumbled, keeping your face hidden against his shoulder for reasons unknown to him.
he decided not to overthink it too much. his hands moved up to rub your back soothingly now, sighing softly as he leans his head against yours. he almost closes his eyes, oddly content with the way you feel against him like this, but that doesn’t make his cock soften any faster.
he may have to excuse himself to the bathroom after this, all with the intention of… taking care of his problem. he has enough material now to last him a full decade, he’s certain.
but for now, he’ll just keep holding you for a little longer, memorizing the way your heart beats against his chest. (he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of this.)
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changbinlov3r · 2 days
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We can't be friends | H.H.
Pairing: Hyunjin x reader
Genre: ANGST, smut
Summary: you have been in love with your best friend for a long time. On a night where you were supposed to comfort him after a break up, things heat up and he finally looks at you the way you wanted.
Words count: 2,957
THIS WORK IS FOR +18 AUDIENCES ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: biting, protected piv, hickeys, blowjob, hair pulling, cursing(I think that's all)
A/N: I wanted to write something to "we can't be friends" by ariana grande, I was thinking so hard about what to write and this idea came to me so suddenly and I knew I had to write it.
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Hwang Hyunjin was everything you ever dreamt about. You didn’t realize that right when you met him in your first year of college, to you he was just a friend until he wasn’t anymore. You started noticing every little thing about him, how his eyes turn into crescents when he smiles, the face he makes when he eats something good, what are his favorite drinks and snacks. Suddenly everything about Hyunjin sounded so interesting that you didn’t even realize you were in love. You didn’t realize how happy you got every time he sent you a message, how touched you felt when he went to pick you up at work because it was raining and you forgot your umbrella, how calm you felt when you were with him, watching a movie and chilling.
The moment you realized you were in love, you knew you couldn’t be best friends anymore but you liked to pretend. Hyunjin never even looked at you twice so your mind never went to dark places, wondering what it would be like to tell him how you feel but even though that was the case, he didn't make it easy for you to stop liking him.
He would bring you snacks and medicine when you were on your period, when you felt down about anything he would be there to cheer you up and you could tell him just about anything, you knew he wouldn’t judge you — well, almost anything. Could he ever understand you about this, though? How could you fall in love with your best friend?
When he got his first girlfriend it was a shock to you, the pain in your chest felt like it would burn you whole, but you kept fighting with your heart, telling yourself that it wouldn’t do you any good for him to know about your feelings. His relationship didn’t last long but it also wasn’t the last you heard about a relationship of his and you thought you were okay with it. That is, until he met his last girlfriend. Hyunjin was head over heels for her and that killed you time and time again. Your heart broke more and more every time he talked about her, every time you slept over and heard him calling her late at night, telling her how much he loved her. A month went by, then three months, then a year.
Of course you didn’t want them to break up because you knew he would suffer and that was the last thing you wanted, even if in that case you would be the one hurting. You tried to date other people, but you always felt it was wrong because deep inside you didn’t want to get over him, not when you were still hopeful that one day he would look at you.
It was late at night when Hyunjin called you, it was clear in his voice that something was not right.
“Can you come over?” He asks, voice hoarse and tired.
“Give me ten minutes”, you tell him, jumping out of bed. You were already in your pjs, ready to sleep and no one other than Hyunjin could make you go out this time of the night.
You don't even change your shirt, putting on sweatpants and brushing your hair quickly before grabbing your keys and your coat, walking to the door. The chill air of the night blows your hair, messing everything up and making your face grow cold. Winter has been killing you for a while now, you have been avoiding coming to the cold outside since you started to work from home.
You get into your car, turning on the heater, putting on some light music so you can stay calm and not freak out about what happened to your best friend.
You don’t even knock when you get to his apartment, pressing the password to the door lock and entering the house. A strong smell of liquor comes straight to your nose, stopping you in your tracks. There are so many soju bottles on the floor that you can’t even count and you hear the sound of the shower, so you can only conclude that Hyunjin is taking a bath.
Sighing and taking your coat, you throw it on the table, going to the kitchen to find a plastic bag and starting to collect the trash around the living room. What the hell happened? Hyunjin is usually pretty neat, it’s rare to see his house this messy.
You hear the sound coming from the bathroom disappear while you wash the dishes, drying your hands on a towel and leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for Hyunjin to show up.
He looks awful, clean but horrible. He has eye bags under his eyes and seems tired like he hasn't slept in days.
“What happened?” You ask him, walking to him to take a closer look.
Hyunjin pouts, looking at you. You swear he’s almost crying.
“Jisoo broke up with me”, he says, running his hand through his hair.
“She did what?” You scowl, eyes widening and he sighs. “What happened? This came out of nowhere”
“I don’t know, she’s been acting weird lately and she didn’t want me to pick her up at work anymore so I asked about it and she felt offended that I was being suspicious of her, but I was not”, he whines, “I was just asking if there was something wrong”
“When did it happen? Are you drunk right now?” You recall the amount of empty bottles of alcohol you found when you arrived.
“She ended it yesterday, I thought she was gonna come around”, he cries out, “but she even blocked me on social media”
Hyunjin turns around, walking to the sofa and sitting, supporting his elbows on his thighs while he covers his face.
“I'm not drunk, I ran out of booze a few hours ago and just couldn't get myself to go buy more”, he sighs, “I have no energy”
You feel that pain in your chest, you never wanted to see him suffering like this.
“Look, you have today to cry and tomorrow you're gonna forget about her, okay?”, you groan, the last thing you want is to comfort the guy you like because someone else broke his heart. “You have me, you’re gonna be fine” You walk to him, sitting by his side and patting his back. Hyunjin sighs, nodding begrudgingly.
“Thank you for coming”, he says, leaning down and putting his head on your shoulder. “I know it's late”
“Don’t worry about it”, you assure him, “I'm always here for you”
Hyunjin nods, looking up at you before you glance down at him, his dark eyes watching you like he can see right through you, all your emotions. Suddenly the atmosphere becomes strange, you both fall into silence and you feel something deep inside you, something you don't think you have ever felt before as he glances to your mouth and then your lips are on his.
For a few seconds you can't fully understand what's happening, are you two really kissing? And is he reciprocating? Hyunjin’s lips are just like you thought it would be, soft and sweet. Are you a horrible person for doing this when he just broke up with his girlfriend? His hands move to cup your face, deepening the kiss but yours go straight to his chest, pushing him away.
“We shouldn't do this”, you shake your head, trying to get back to your senses. “This isn't right”
Hyunjin scowls.
“It's fine, I want it”, he tries kissing you again but you stop him again.
“You were drinking earlier, you are not thinking straight”, you try keeping your cool.
“I'm sober now”, he insists, “please, y/n”, he pleads, making your heart melt.
It's not like you don't want to have him, you really do.
“You won't regret it later?” You ask, biting on your bottom lip and when he shakes his head, you turn off the side of your brain that makes good decisions, kissing him again.
You grab his face, deepening the kiss, delighting yourself on his plump lips. His long hair falls around your fingers, tickling your skin and the brush of his tongue on yours makes you sigh. Hyunjin bites on your bottom lip, pulling it lightly while his hands slide down to your hips, pressing his fingers with such force you think it might cause a bruise.
He kisses you again, hungrily, leaning over and making you fall back on the sofa as he hovers over your body. You feel tiny beneath him, like he holds all the power in the world and you’re just there ready to make all his wishes come true.
As he trails kisses down your neck, you sigh and slide your hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him and throwing it somewhere in the room. You kiss him again, eagerly, not capable of staying away for too long as his hands slide down your shirt grabbing at your breasts, making you let out a moan. Your hands go down his abs, sliding inside his pants, pressing your fingers around his hard cock. You start massaging it up and down and Hyunjin bites on your bottom lip, pulling it slightly just enough for you to feel a slight pain.
He slips his hand down your bra, kneading at your breasts and pinching on your nipples.
“Fuck”, you murmur, not able to hold up anymore as you pull your on shirt off to give him the view of your chest that's bare in a few seconds since you work fast to undo your bra.
He watches you for a moment, mesmerized by your beauty. You feel your cheeks grow hot, trying to cover yourself but he blocks your movements, holding your arms above your head. Hyunjin kisses your neck, leaving a trail of bites that are going to cause you to use turtlenecks for a while but you are not complaining, he trails down your collarbone till your breasts so he can suck on your nipples, rubbing his hard cock against your tight while he enjoys his time at your chest.
You can't hold yourself back anymore, so you put your hands on his chest, pushing him away enough for him to sit down. You throw one leg over him, sitting on his lap, brushing your core against his hard cock, moaning to the delicious pressure. You kiss him again, rubbing yourself against him a few times, his hands go straight to your hip forcing you down.
You pull away when you can't breathe anymore, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, giving him a bite right on top of his collarbone, not stopping until he hisses.
“You're going to leave a mark”, he groans, opening his eyes that were shut in pleasure, just to look at you, seeing the smirk you have on your lips.
“That's the point”, you say, finally detaching your lips from his skin, enjoying the view of it turning purple.
You get down from his lap, getting on your knees in between his legs, pulling his pants and underwear down to find his painfully hard cock, glistening with precum. You grab the base of his cock, pumping it a few times before you get close enough to lick the head, circling it with your tongue, listening to him moan while he grabs the sofa, knuckles turning with the strength he's using.
You hold one of his hands with yours bringing it to your head and letting it rest on your hair, as you look at him sharply, sucking up and down on his cock even more eagerly.
“Fuck”, he grabs a handful of your hair, pressing your head further down his cock, the head reaching the back of your throat, making tears escape your eyes. “You look so pretty gagging around me”, he murmurs, throwing his head back, groaning to the intense feeling of the orgasm approaching.
You feel his grip tighten on your hair and he cums a few seconds later, letting go of your hair and breathing heavily, trying to recompose himself. You stare at him from the floor, not sure if he's going to want to keep going, but he soon looks back at you stretching himself to the side of the sofa till he reaches the drawer in the rack, pulling a condom out of there.
“Do you want to-”, he begins to say.
“Yes”, you nod frantically not even letting him finish.
“Good”, he smiles, tearing the package and putting on the condom, his cock hardening again. “It's pretty difficult not to get hard again seeing you fucked out like that for me”, he teases. Your hair is disheveled, your lips are swollen and there are tears marks down your cheeks.
You smile sheepishly watching as Hyunjin offers you his hand, pulling you down to sit back on his lap. You grab his cock, teasing your entrance lightly, closing your eyes to the feeling. When you sink down you swear you can see stars, his cock is just perfect, the stretch feels so good you can't even begin to describe it. He's reaching places you didn't even know you wanted to be reached, the way he grabs your hips, pushing you down on him while he makes you grind makes the sensation a thousand times better. You can already barely breath when he kisses you again, bringing a hand to your hair and pulling it while he bites on your lips, you can feel him thrusting into you, faltering movements showing that he's almost reaching his second orgasm. He trails kisses down your neck, kissing the hill between your breasts and licking on your right nipple while he curses under his breath.
“I'm gonna cum”, he announces, detaching his mouth from your chest, glancing at you just to see you nod, murmuring ‘me too, I'm almost there’ over and over until a loud moan escapes your lips. Your legs tremble and you hug Hyunjin looking for some kind of support, he wraps his arms around you, fucking into you while he cums too.
You don't have any strength left to get up when you come down from your high, resting your head on his shoulder. Hyunjin gently picks you up, holding your legs around his hips while he carries you to his room, laying you down on his bed. He murmurs something but you're too groggy to understand him, falling into a deep slumber as soon as you feel his lips meeting your forehead.
It's already afternoon when you wake up, there's no one by your side though and you feel the pain of regret beginning to find its way to your chest. You could ignore it, you really could, if it wasn't for Hyunjin’s voice coming from outside the room. You dress up fast, walking to the door to hear what he's talking about and then you realize he's not alone.
“Do you have any idea of how much you hurt me?” You hear his voice.
“I'm sorry”, you hear Jisoo’s voice, “I know I went overboard this time but I wasn't thinking clearly”
You feel your stomach sinking in, your heart starts beating on your ears but you make a huge effort to keep listening to them.
“What do you want me to do about it now?” He asks, sighing.
“Let's get back together”, she suggests, “we can pretend we never even broke up in the first place”
You want to believe with all you have in you that he's gonna deny her, that he's going to think about you and tell her he's not interested anymore.
“Fine”, he says, “but I'll need some time to think”
You wish you could say you're surprised with his answer but you're not, it's not even sad, it's just pathetic. You really thought that he would really look at you this time, didn't you? That he would fall in love with you after one night together? That's embarrassing to say the least.
You scoff to yourself, walking around the room and collecting your things, you want to get the hell out of there and disappear from this world.
You hear the front door being closed and you know Hyunjin is gonna show up at any time now.
You're already ready to go when he opens the door, stopping on his tracks to look at you.
“I didn't know you were awake”, he says, sheepishly.
“I am”, you say walking past him in the direction of the front door.
“Y/N, about yesterday-”, he starts saying but is interrupted by you spinning around to look at him, trying to contain the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes.
“You're a fucking asshole”, you tell him, making him scowl.
“I- look, you don't understand”, he tries but you laugh, scoffing at him.
“What don't I understand? That you fucked me one night and went back to your girlfriend the next morning?”
“I wasn't on my right mind yesterday”
“Fuck you”, you feel your face hot with anger, “you said you wouldn't regret it”, you cry out as you run your hands through your hair, “I guess that's on me for really believing you”
“Let's not let this ruin our friendship okay? We can take some time apart to clear our heads but we are still best friends, y/n”
“We can't be friends”, you inform him, “I have known that for a long time now but I liked to pretend”, you sigh, waiting for him to say something, anything that could make you stay, but Hyunjin just stares at you in shock and watches as you leave him.
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disneyprincemuke · 1 day
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you can't spell lonesome without me * fem!driver
everyone and everything she's ever loved seems to be slipping away from her grasp and she doesn't know how to stop it
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver
notes: hi! matt and rocky angst comes after this so hehe gl with this guyz hope u enjoy it because it actually took 20 years of my life tryna write this LOL
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
(prev)
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sebastian keeps telling her that it’s not her fault; to look at the bigger picture to get some perspective. but she doesn’t quite understand why the bigger picture has to have liam in it — frankly, who cares if liam’s qualified 15th and she ended up behind him? that’s not the point.
the point is she finds herself at another weekend where she couldn’t deliver results.
she hasn’t spoken much since she crawled out of her car after getting knocked out in the first round of qualifying. and she appreciates that matt hasn’t forced anything out of her just yet.
she’d stormed out of her garage and tried to get through all her interviews as gracefully as she could. but how could she ignore her results when, week after week, the questions and criticisms are the same?
it’s slowly getting harder and harder to keep her feet on the ground when things are slowly coming undone around her.
and she can’t thank matt enough for letting her cancel their plans without another word. she’d simply uttered that she just wanted to be locked away in their hotel room and he agreed without prodding too much.
she steps out of her racing home, taken aback by the 4 other bodies of her friends that are riddled by the porch, all on their phones. she tilts her head as she holds the door in her hands. “what are you guys doing here?”
logan is the first to look up, furrowed eyebrows and lips pursed in what she can only assume to be out of annoyance. “what do you mean? we’re heading out for ice cream tonight.”
she glances at matt next to her, who’s already looking at her as he awaits her response. she sighs as she looks back at her friends. “i’m sorry, mate,” she apologises, shaking her head. she weaves herself out of matt’s grasp and takes a step forward. “i’m not feeling great tonight.”
“what?” oscar whines, lifting his head from his phone with a slight frown. “is it a fever? are you alright?”
“i’m alright.” she smiles very slightly, picking on her arm as she forces another lie to her lips. “we can go tomorrow after the race, but just not tonight, i think. i’m sorry.”
liam furrows his eyebrows with a loud sigh. “is it because of qualifying?” he grins when she looks over at him. “if it’s any consolation, i’m not happy about it either, mate.”
she laughs softly. “yeah, it sucks.”
“i can’t do tomorrow. my flight’s right after the race,” mick frowns with a sigh. “i’m meeting laila for a bit before the next race weekend.”
“oh,” logan hums, turning away from mick to look at her. “we can go just us, right?”
“i can’t either,” oscar hisses, his frown growing. “i’m flying back home for an event that lily has. she needs me there.”
“ah,” she grins with a nod. she looks at logan. “we don’t have to get ice cream this weekend. it’s okay.”
logan raises an eyebrow. “you’re sure?”
she nods. “i’m sure.”
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“it feels like it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of you lately. have you gotten too famous for me?”
she turns around with her head tilted, lips puckered as she takes a sip out of the pepsi can in her arms. “oh, hi max!”
“hi!” max perks up at her smile. “i’ve barely spoken to you since the second race. how are you?”
she sucks in a deep breath as she looks around the busy paddocks, people turning their heads at her and max, and some cowering away immediately when she catches their eye. she looks back at max with a frank smile. “good.”
he lifts an eyebrow. “really?”
she knows that talking to someone would probably ease her mind with all her thoughts. it might even calm her down to a certain degree.
and she almost does.
but she doesn’t. instead, she says, “of course. i feel great, even.”
“well,” max puts a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to snap her head up to look at him, “take my advice, mate. don’t be too hard on yourself.”
but the question still begs: how exactly does she not do that?
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there’s a slight scowl on her face as she looks up at the podium. her arms are folded over her chest as the australian national anthem blasts from the speakers.
her best friends have made it on the podium this season — without her. while it’s not totally unheard of that she misses out on the share of glory, it’s never usually her on the receiving end of this torment.
at least not as of late.
to oscar’s left is logan clad in blue, and to his right is mick in the mercedes suit. it’s almost annoying.
there’s an itch in her brain and a smidge of resentment starting to grow in her chest. it’s wrong to feel this way — she knows it is — because these are her friends achieving big things in their sport. but is it so wrong that she’s starting to feel a little jealous?
just a little bit. just a little. just a touch.
maybe if she sleeps this off and wakes up tomorrow, all remnants of resentment would somehow no longer exist.
she shouldn’t feel this way, no. it’s not right. she forces a smile to her face, waving halfheartedly at oscar when he catches her eye. he pumps his fist into the air and waves his trophy in the air.
next to her is lily with her phone up, pictures and videos taken. and of course, ylona’s next to her, waving excitedly at logan as she points at her phone to get him to pose for a picture.
she presses her lips together, annoyance growing in her gut as her airways start to close in on itself. it’s just so hard to breathe especially with everyone pressed up against her. she’s still sweaty from the race, her hair is sticking against her forehead and her race suit starts to feel just slightly restricting.
she huffs softly, hooking a finger into the neckline of her fireproofs.
but everything feels like it’s burning.
“excuse me,” she mutters, dropping her head low as she pushes herself through the crowd. she ignores the way lily and ylona call after her in confusion.
she heaves when she manages to rid herself of the crowd, hands on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath. she catches max’s eye right by parc ferme, engaged in a conversation with charles.
she sees the way he perks up in concern at her but chooses to ignore it. she just picks herself up and heads to the media pen to do her interviews.
the feeling will eventually leave.
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she looks around the ice cream parlour, slouched slightly with her hands pressed between the cushion of the seat and her thighs. in retrospect, it felt like coming out after media day would have been the ideal time to come out and indulge in ice cream.
but now that she’s sat here, stuck between liam and mick in a booth, it seems that she has made a mistake.
“what are you having, rocky?” logan asks, tapping the table in front of her to catch her attention. “rocky road with extra marshmallows still? or do you feel like vanilla ice cream today?”
with the way her stomach has been churning recently, any form of chocolate makes her feel sick. she shakes her head. “maybe just a lemon sorbet if they have that available.”
an audible gasp comes from either side of her. she throws her head back and looks between them. liam has the back of his hand pressed up against her forehead, mick’s tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows and logan’s staring down at her with parted lips.
“what are you guys doing?” she asks mellowly, swatting their hands away from her. “don’t touch me.”
“sorbet?” liam scowls, pointing a finger at her. “is everything okay? you’re like sorbets’ number one hater.”
she raises her eyebrows and chews on the inside of her cheeks. “am i?”
“yes,” logan emphasises. “you literally told me off one time for having sorbet during our ice cream dates. you and oscar wouldn’t let me live it down for weeks!”
she blinks at him. “you got a raspberry sorbet, so you had that coming.”
“no!” logan shrieks. “sorbet? really? what’s wrong with you? is everything okay? you always say sorbets are inferior to ice cream.”
she nods hesitantly. she vaguely remembers the one time that she’d gone on a drunk tangent about sorbet not being ice cream. to which she can say that she understands logan’s argument. “well, i’m not really feeling ice cream today.”
mick hums, making her turn her head to look at him. “if it’s just this one time, i guess we can excuse the behaviour.”
she hears logan humming, eyes still narrowed down into a glare. “just this one time, rocky. i’ll give you a chance.”
“great, thanks. i was worried you’d bully me into having ice cream tonight.”
“keep up the sarcasm and i’ll actually force you.”
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she flinches when she opens the door to her driver’s room, only to find it occupied. she blinks. “seriously, you’ve got to stop taking advantage of seb.”
“we missed you,” oscar grins, comfortably lying in her bean bag, tapping away on his phone. “and you weren’t answering our texts in the group chat.”
she looks over at matt and points at her friends. “really? you let them in?”
the green-eyed boy shrugs, lips pressed together. “4 versus 1 argument — remember that.”
there’s nothing that she wanted all day but to come back to a peaceful and silent driver’s room. she’d wanted to simply sit with matt in silence before she had to get up and drag her feet to a conference room and come up with diplomatic answers on the spot.
she just needed a couple of hours to herself to think and recuperate. to get herself in a better headspace after these past couple of races.
“where are we heading for ice cream tonight?” logan raises an eyebrow, not sparing her a look as he continues to tap away on his phone.
“ice cream,” she mutters, trailing off as she blinks. “oh, my god.”
she shakes her head, her palm pressed against her forehead. amidst everything that’s been in her head, she’d completely forgotten to research an ice cream parlour for them to visit tonight.
oscar chuckles. “you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”
“yes,” she answers, somewhat apologetically. “i’m so sorry. and i’m busy today, i don’t have the time. can either of you find a place?”
but there’s a different answer that she hopes they would choose instead of the standard answer that they’d give her.
she finds them wanting to say nevermind; that they’ll just not grab ice cream together.
to her dismay, that’s not what mick says. “oo, can i choose?”
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“give it a while, kid.”
“i don’t have a while!” she shrieks, looking around at her mobile car, cars passing her from the track. she can practically hear the comments and see the headlines once she steps out of the car when the race finishes. “tell them to fucking get it together! what the fuck is going on?”
she’s looking around wide-eyed, desperate to meet anyone’s eye for an explanation. the longer she stays parked in the pit, for what was supposed to be a pit stop, the less threshold she has to stay in the race.
“this is absolutely insane, seb. i was in p5 before this shit show.”
“rocky,” he hears her sigh into her ears, “just be patient.”
she dug her foot into the acceleration when the sign flipped to the bright green colour. adrenaline pumps through her veins as she convinces herself that her car will be good enough to put her back into a good spot.
that she’s good enough to put herself in a position where she’s no longer on the receiving end of harsh words this weekend.
above all else, she needs to prove to herself that she hasn’t lost her touch as a driver.
“you’re currently in p9.”
“what the hell happened during that pit?” she complains, the urge to roll her eyes growing stronger. “that was so fucked up, seb! you know what– it isn’t. it’s absolutely fucking unacceptable.”
“i know, rocky,” seb answers calmly, clearing his intonation to ensure that the young girl hears him. and actually listens because it doesn’t seem like she’s absorbing much of what he says. “we’ll debrief later after the race, okay? just focus on making the most out of the weekend.”
she grunts. “fine, whatever.”
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“ice cream tonight?” logan pops up next to her, grinning when she lifts her head from her intense gaze on her shoe. “found a spot?”
she sighs, blinking. “no. i forgot.”
logan takes a spot next to her on the couch, furrowing his eyebrows. “you forgot again?”
“yeah,” she huffs as she looks away to avoid his gaze. “sorry.”
truth is that she didn’t look for one on purpose. she just simply doesn’t feel like heading out with them tonight.
she just waits for the time that oscar and logan will let her be. perhaps the stupid ice cream tradition needed to be abolished altogether. just seems like a waste of time.
“no worries,” logan grins, patting her head gently. “you’ve had a long couple of race weekends past you. i’ll look for one, okay?”
she breathes out shakily, smiling halfheartedly. “okay, thank you.”
she finds herself dreading the ice cream date with her friends. she trails behind the group with small steps, watching her feet with every step as she formulates a way to escape her obligations.
she clears her throat and lifts her head. “um.”
“she’s spoken,” oscar jokes, grabbing logan’s arms — previously hitting him — and turns back to grin at her. “the curse must have been broken.”
“someone found the unmute button on the remote!” logan giggles, scrunching his nose. “what’s up, rocky?”
liam hums with a smile. “your girlfriend remembered she has friends!” he looks over at matt and nods. “good for her.”
“i’m like,” she trails off, biting down on her lip as she forces another lie out, “totally not feeling great. i’m on my period and i’m kind of lightheaded. is it alright if i sit this one out?”
“aw, bub,” matt coos, shoving liam off of him, arms extended as he approaches her. he tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “you’re on your period?”
she looks up at matt, wide-eyed as she slowly nods. “just got it before we left my room.”
which is a lie.
“aw, does that mean matt’s not coming with us?” mick frowns, furrowing his eyebrows. “i haven’t spent time with him forever, that’s so unfair.”
she shakes her head, flashing mick a small grin. “no, it totally doesn’t mean that. he can go with you guys — i just wanna head back to the hotel and take a nap, really. i’ll be okay on my own.”
matt hums. “i’ll go with you.”
“you should go with them,” she laughs, grabbing his arm with a small nod. “i’ll text you when i’m back, i promise. i’ll be okay — i just need to take a nap, i reckon.”
logan furrows his eyebrows and his smile drops at her insistence. “i can walk you back to the hotel if you want.”
she shakes her head. “i’ll be okay. you guys have fun, okay?”
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she kneels on her beanbag, lips pressed together as she looks out of the tiny window of her driver’s room. right by the porch of her racing home are her friends gathered, laughing and having a good time as they awaited her arrival.
“bub,” matt sighs. “are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?”
she turns around with a small smile, scrunching her nose. “i’ll be okay, bub. i’m just not really feeling like heading to the club tonight.”
he walks over to her, slumping his shoulders as she leans into his body for a hug. “at least let me stay with you? i don’t like you being alone when i’m around. i’m sure we can come up with some silly excuse that they won’t giggle at like 12-year-olds.”
“you have to go,” she hums, pulling her head back to look up at him, “it’s logan’s race win — just go in my place, please? tell him i’m really sorry i can’t be there.”
he hums, cupping her cheek. she leans into his touch with a soft sigh and her eyes fluttering close. “you should tell him that yourself. you owe him that much; he’s your best friend.”
she shakes her head, her hand coming up to rest above the hand that’s on her face. “i can’t,” she chokes, tears filling her eyes, “you know how i feel about this. just do this one for me, bub.”
“fine,” he sighs, hunching over to press his lips to her forehead. “but you can’t keep avoiding logan and oscar and throwing me out there to face them. they miss you, you know?”
she can hear logan’s laugh in the air mixed with ylona’s. she grins slightly, “i’m sure they’ve got better things to care about other than me.”
“don’t even say that,” he pulls away, “text me when you get back to the hotel, okay? i love you.”
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she scratches the back of her head roughly, nails digging into her scalp as she holds her helmet in her hands.
she mutters under her breath as she tears everything off from her body: her balaclava, her gloves, the earpiece. everything’s not right, everything’s not going her way and that’s unfair.
nobody’s worked as hard as she has to be where she is right now is all that goes in her head. it’s unfair that she’s getting the brunt of the criticism when it came to andretti’s performance on the grid this year.
she doesn’t see liam getting decimated by the masses, and she clearly doesn’t see it on sebastian or her team principal or mechanics for not producing a car to get results in a weekend.
she’s qualified at the very back of the grid this time — p19. just imagine what everyone will have to say; what everyone will zoom into just to have something to say about her driving.
it’s always her skills, never the fact that the car is simply shit.
“rocky,” she hears sebastian sigh behind her. “let’s talk.”
she shakes her head, clenching her jaw as she heads towards the exit of her garage. she doesn’t bother turning around to look at him. “just fuck off.”
the one thing she wishes to stop coming by is sebastian’s excuses for the team. it’s the same thing over and over again. it’s unfair that she’s the one getting fucked over by the media.
it’s not fair.
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hannieehaee · 2 days
Text
DOES HE KNOW ? (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.
content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1k (teaser); 9.8k (full fic)
release date: april 17th
or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!
a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist
support me through a one time tip<3
Something was clearly wrong with you.
Was Lee Chan hot?
Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.
You could date it back to some months ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.
For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).
After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.
"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.
"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.
You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.
Maybe he was drunk?
He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.
"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.
Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.
Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).
You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?
"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.
"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"
"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.
"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.
You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.
"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.
He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."
"He has a name, Soonyou-"
"None of us really care enough to learn it."
That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.
"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.
"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.
"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.
With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.
At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.
Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.
Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.
God damn you, Lee Chan.
...
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bloompompom · 1 day
Text
LOVER BOY | MINI SERIES
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in which eren falls hard for you, his friend-with-benefits who insists she isn't looking for anything serious
PART ONE - all that glitters
⟡ content: eren jaeger x female reader, good old-fashioned college au, fwb-to-lovers, mutual pining/idiots in love, cheesy rom-com, smut fic with feelings, fluff, angst, sexual content, explicit language, alcohol, drunk sex. reader discretion advised. 18+ ⟡ word count: ~3k ⟡ masterlist (1/4) ⟡ a/n: writing has been a struggle but this came to me in a vision. i needed something easy and fun to get me back in the swing of things. enjoy ♡
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“Eren.”
You whined his name in that signature drunken way, with the last syllable drawn out and pronounced like a plea—as if pleading with him was ever necessary. 
“What’re you doing right now?” you asked. “D’you wanna fuck?”
No, not really. But Eren would make sure you made it back to your dorm room alive and as well as one could be after too many drinks. Still, he couldn’t deny how the back of his neck warmed at the offer. 
“Yeah,” he replied. “Where are you at?”
After the call ended, it was only a matter of seconds before his friends predictably started heckling him.
Connie hung his headset around his neck, shooting Eren this too-knowing look when he asked, “Lemme guess who that was.”
“How about you don’t?” Despite Eren’s flat affect, his words had a biting edge. He kept his head down as he shrugged his jacket over his shoulders. 
This wasn’t the first time Connie broached the subject, also known as you. Although it proved to be a sore spot for Eren, Connie didn’t plan to stop poking any time soon.
“Dude, she’s got you pussy-whipped,” he barked, “with a capital P, dude.”
“You said ‘dude’ twice,” Eren groused, hoping that would be the end of it. When the baiting look on Connie’s face didn’t let up, Eren felt compelled to defend himself. “I’m not pussy-whipped. She’s at a party and needs someone to walk her home.” 
Connie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.”
Lounged on his bottom bunk, Jean glanced from his phone screen to Eren. “You know, these sorts of arrangements—friends-with-benefits, fuck buddies, whatever weird thing you two have going on—they don’t normally end well.”
Jean said it smartly, in that been-there-done-that way as if his longest relationship wasn’t with his right hand. Before Eren could call him out on it, Connie jumped in on the dog pile.
“And last time I checked, they don’t involve catching feelings,” he asserted, thinking he'd added something meaningful to the conversation. 
“I didn’t catch feelings,” Eren refuted. 
“Then tell me straight up you’re going over there for pussy and not because you think she’s magically going to wake up one morning and want to have a serious, exclusive relationship with you after literal months of saying otherwise.”
Ouch.
“It is exclusive,” Eren corrected, though his delivery was a bit shaky. “I mean, I’m not sleeping around.”
“Well, duh. But is she?” 
Eren realized he had no idea if you were sleeping with anyone else. Why was he so quick to assume you had been faithfully fucking him? That wasn’t in the terms of your agreement. 
Regardless of what (or who) you did when he wasn’t around, you called him tonight over anyone else. That had to mean something, right? At the very least, it meant the decency of giving him a heads-up if you were fucking someone else, he liked to think. 
“I don’t think so,” Eren said. “She hasn’t mentioned anyone, and I’m sure she’d tell me if—”
Connie guffawed. “God, you are down so fucking bad. Just admit it to yourself.”
Eren had already done that a long time ago but they didn’t need to know that. Truthfully, they didn’t need to know anything about you, yet all three of his roommates managed to acquaint themselves with you despite never having met.
Eren tried to keep his fling with you under wraps—not for any special reason other than it was none of his friends’ business. But if he thought he was being sneaky, then he was doing a shit job at it because his friends caught on fast. After they spotted a poorly-hidden hickey, it didn’t take much to pull the dirty secret from him. 
But it wasn’t really that dirty of a secret, was it? They understood it; why would he stick around and play video games with them when he could be getting his dick sucked? What they didn’t understand was why he continued doting on you like he was your boyfriend—no, like he was your puppy, loyal and entirely dedicated to you while maintaining that it was nothing more than casual sex.
Fat fucking chance. They would never believe such a thing. They knew Eren better than that. They knew he wasn’t meant for casual. 
Eren bristled but held his tongue. Connie was right, and whatever bullshit Eren could spout wouldn’t be worth the breath; they’d never believe him.
If only he’d kept his mouth shut in the first place. At least then he wouldn’t need to dread this collective ‘I told you so!’ from friends who were all too eager to say it. 
Lest he wished for this to devolve into the world’s shittiest intervention, Eren left without another word—not even a ‘goodbye’ in reply to Armin, ever the diplomat, hiding out on his top bunk until he deemed it safe. Unfortunately for Eren, his silence (and the slammed door) spoke louder than anything he could have said.
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You’d sent Eren your location because you didn’t have half a mind to explain your whereabouts. Not to mention, the streets back on Fraternity Row were old and cobbled and poorly lit. You were a few blocks over from Eren, only a five-minute walk. Four, if he picked up his pace. 
Had it really been months since this whole thing started?
You and Eren were introduced under more formal circumstances. He couldn’t confidently say you would have met if not for your professor’s intervention. She randomly assigned partners for the final project, stating everyone needed to ‘branch out'—as if they needed another freshman orientation course. Looking back now, Eren could appreciate the icebreaker. 
That was in November. He met with you on a Friday only to spend the rest of the weekend with you on his mind. He remembered it well. For good reason, too; he’d never made out in a library before.
Neither had you, apparently. That was what you told him, whispered between giggles as you rose from your chair. You knew you were up to no good as you slipped into his lap, and you wore a glittery smile to match.  
Eren’s conscience told him otherwise, but the more bestial part of his brain had already justified it with boyishly sound reasoning as to why it was perfectly okay. 
First off, the two of you were tucked away in a secluded corner, hidden behind bookshelves blanketed in dust older than his college career. He hadn’t heard so much as a footstep the entire hour he’d spent here. 
Secondly, who would come to the library this late on a Friday anyway?
It made for quite the compelling argument, outside of the fact that he himself was one of those Friday night library goers. 
Eren couldn’t explain how you ended up there, astride his lap with his bottom lip sucked swollen and drawn between your teeth, other than stating the obvious: the attraction between you was instantaneous and the conditions were just right. The literature was just horrifically boring enough; the tension between you was palpable, nibbled away at bit by bit like a mouse gnawing on a cord. Accidental touches, as chaste as a hand brushed against his, became deliberate and lasted longer than the last. You would sit close, then closer, and move in a way that Eren would catch thin whiffs of your perfume, a sweet scent at the tip of his nose but warm in the pit of his stomach.
And like a cord, you risked a fateful snap: the moment you’d realize you were far more interested in each other than any ten-point word on the page—when you’d agree to leave the project abandoned on the table and let it fade into insignificance. 
Eren didn’t know the last time someone made his heart beat that hard, if ever. Hard enough that he remembered worrying you’d feel it. Of course, it could have been from the thrill, but he had to admit you left him feeling completely caught off guard. He wasn’t sure if the feeling ever truly went away. 
Exactly one week later, he discovered you had some friends-of-a-friend in common after bumping into each other at a house party. You approached him, eyes half-lidded, pupils dilated, but your smile as glittery as he remembered. You introduced him to a few girls, laying a hand on his arm as you said, “This is the project partner I was telling you about.” It flattered Eren to know you'd mentioned him, but more than that, it told him that you’d been thinking about him, too.
You brought him back to your room that night. It was the obvious choice between the suite Eren shared with three other guys or the single you miraculously snagged.  
It was fun—and Eren knew how it sounded when he said that. ‘Fun’ wasn’t the first word that came to mind when he thought about having drunk sex with a near stranger. Fumbling and awkward, yes. But fun? Not so much.
Yet with you, it was.
The pressure he put on himself melted away at the touch of your hand. Maybe that was the moment, if he had to name one, when he first felt something. Something that ran deeper than a hormone-induced make-out session in the library and deeper than any one-night stand. All you had to do was be you. The drunk version of you—of both of you—but still you, nonetheless. 
You kissed him not on your half-lofted bed but you were on your way there. Eren had your back pressed against it before breaking the kiss to take off your shirt. You helped him with his next.
Your hands immediately flew to his stomach, palming over the muscles in a way Eren wouldn’t describe as sexual—more like you were impressed.
“Whoa,” you remarked with a sort of wonder he didn’t expect. You squeezed his bicep next and then glanced down at your own. “Do you think I can get those?” 
“Yeah, I’ll send you my gym routine,” Eren laughed. Though he supposed he didn’t really have a routine, he just went to blow off steam.
He pulled you into him, snuffing out your giggles with a kiss. 
Confessedly, he came fast—not that fast, but quicker than he would have preferred. But he liked to think he made up for it, fingering and eating you until he was hard again and could go for round two. You sure seemed to like it. 
When it was all said and done, Eren lay there and imagined falling asleep at your side, while you were already hopping out of bed.
Ugh. Putting it like that made him sound like a girl.
You exchanged numbers before parting ways, and he dedicated another weekend to you, this time planning his text to ask you on a date. He took so long that you reached out first, sending what you called your fuck it! text, both figuratively and literally—you cheekily threw that into the message, too.
When Eren agreed to ‘just sex, nothing else,’ he thought it was making the obvious choice. What idiot would say no to that? It sounded like the college dream, and that was what it was supposed to be, up until it wasn’t.
From then on, the time you should have spent working on your project, you spent fucking. Shameful but true. It was probably the reason you received a C. As it turned out, humans don’t retain much information when attempting to read aloud while another went down on them. Maybe the two of you should have done your project on that instead.
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It was nearly spring now. The soggy beginning of the season as winter finally began to melt away. The night was rain-soaked. Eren could smell the remnants of the downpour on the asphalt as he walked against the breeze, chilly enough for him to hide his hands in his jacket pockets. 
He approached the bustling house to find you sitting alone on the stoop, legs bent at the knee and a bit knobbled. He called out for you and watched a gigantic smile capture your face. The sight made his chest tighten.
Eren held out his hands for you to take and tugged you to your feet. 
“Where are your friends?” he asked you.
“I dunno,” you absently said.
You passed him as you crossed the lawn. When you reached the sidewalk, you spun on your heels to see if Eren was following. He was.
“Don’t worry, I texted them that I was leaving.” You started to laugh. “Told them I had a booty call.”
“A booty call?” Eren pretended you wounded him, clasping a hand over his chest. “Is that all I am to you? And here I was thinking we were friends.”
You giggled as you kept your attention on steadying your stride. A bumpy sidewalk plus a few drinks past your limit didn’t make for a coordinated combination. Your arm brushed against Eren’s every few steps. 
“Seriously though,” he started to say. “Shouldn’t your friends be the ones to get you home?”
“You are my friend.” You beamed up at him, eyes heavy but happy. “You said so yourself.”
He smiled back at you, genuine but closed-mouth, and didn’t flinch as your cold hand nudged a path into his for warmth. 
He guided you into your residence hall and joined your elevator ride up to the eighth floor. He walked you down the left wing to the room at the very end of the hallway and swiped your student ID to unlock the door. He reached to flip the light switch but found it was already on.
“You left the light on,” Eren commented, closing the door as he followed you inside.
Your dorm was no larger than any other, but it sure felt like it with just one bed, tucked into the corner and still unmade from this morning. Your desk sat opposite it, with a window on the back wall dividing the two. The last time Eren saw your desk, he had you on it. By now, the clutter had been put back in its rightful place—a few loose papers and your open laptop—and doubled as a makeshift vanity with your tabletop mirror. 
You hummed blithely before nearing him in a few steps. You went to kiss him, even had your hands on either side of his face, but you only caught the corner of his mouth. He took you by the shoulders and held you at arm’s length. Even from there, your breath reeked of vodka. 
“You need to get some sleep,” he told you.
“I will,” you purred. “After—”
You shook free of his hands and peeled off your shirt, faltering slightly in the process. You tried to kiss him again, thinking your bare chest would surely tempt him.
When Eren didn’t budge, you pouted, “You tricked me.”
“Tricked is a pretty harsh word, don’t you think?”
Eren grabbed the t-shirt draped on your desk chair and plunged it over your head before he started to stare for too long. You scrambled to sort out its sleeves.
“So you came all this way just to tuck me in?” Your head popped through the neck hole to reveal your frown. “You’re not even going to have sex with me?”
“That’s right.”
You shimmied your jeans down your legs, glaring up at him. “You’re so boring.”
“I know,” he airily replied. He ticked his head. “Bed.”
You were drunk enough to listen obediently but kept your frown as you shuffled into your bed. As you crawled beneath the blankets, you watched Eren take a water bottle from your mini fridge and set it on your bedside cubby. Before his hand was out of reach, you lightly wrapped a hand around his wrist. 
You intertwined your fingers with his, sweeping yours up and down the length of each. “You’re at least going to kiss me good night, right?”
You were always so touchy-feely when you drank. 
Eren held his breath. His eyes followed as you pressed your palm against his, compared their sizes, and played with his fingers. It almost felt like you were pulling at something much deeper in him. A puppet and his puppeteer. 
He knew what he wanted to do, but his friends’ words resounded in the forefront of his mind, listing the exact reasons why this was a bad idea. Then he went and did it anyway. 
Eren leaned in to kiss you, not on your lips but sealed against your forehead. With his hand cradling your cheek to hold you there for that one, long second. 
It wasn’t the kiss you wanted, but even so, you stared up at him in drunken awe. Softly, and with a softer smile, you told him, “Thank you for walking me back.” You nuzzled deeper into the bed, closing your eyes as you rambled, “You’re so nice, Eren. Didya know that?”
“I’ll be sure to remind you of that the next time you call me mean,” he teased before turning to leave. 
You piped up again. Your voice was already sleepier than just a second ago, sounding smushed against your pillow as you murmured, “If I’m not married by forty, and you’re not married by forty, can we get married?”
He gave a tiny laugh through his nose. You were cute, weren’t you? He knew you wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. Or if you did, you’d profusely (and needlessly) apologize for it.
“You’ll be married by forty. You don’t have to worry about that,” Eren said, half-way out the door.
You responded with nothing more than a satisfied sound, drifting to sleep as quickly as Eren expected. 
The heavy lock clicked behind him, but Eren gave it a final jiggle to ensure it. He heaved a sigh, leaning back against your door with a thud you thankfully wouldn’t hear. 
This was a huge mistake, wasn’t it?
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masterlist | next part
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teeny-tiny-revenge · 21 hours
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Came across this in a fic again and I have to vent for a moment here: Ed's hair isn't unclean or not taken care of. Ever. Even at his lowest, in the first two episodes of season two, his hair is light and blows with the wind, it's got perfect waves, there is zero grime in it. Impossible Birds Ed hair has clearly been fairly recently washed, combed out and conditioned. Ed canonically loves soap, and you don't get that hair without owning a comb or brush and frequently working oil into it. He's at sea! The air is salty! It'll dry out your hair, but Ed's hair doesn't ever look dried out. The day he decides to commit suicide he puts his hair up into a lovely bun, with whispy stands framing his face. I have no idea what some people are watching, because Ed taking meticulous care (and most likely also putting pride and love) into his hair is clear, on-screen canon.
Like, if you want to write about how he was neglecting himself in his depression Kraken era? There's plenty there for you on screen as well! He sobs all night, probably sleeps on the floor if he sleeps at all. He doesn't wear his knee brace. He drinks and does drugs (and admits to that being poison to Frenchie!). He's pushing everyone away, he's pushing himself hard into a role that made him passively suicidal even before the breakup depression. He doesn't watch his back during raids At All. There's so much self harm there to address. If you want to, it would probably be plausible to add him not bothering to properly care for any wounds he might obtain during a raid. But he clearly doesn't neglect bathing and hair care. They're probably the only elements of self-care he actually still does during this dark time!
Even rock bottom Ed doesn't neglect his hair. And that says things about him! It's also something I'd love to see actually addressed in fic (will probably write it myself one of these days...): Taking good care of his hair, putting on jewelry, doing his makeup, these are things that seem to bring Ed joy or relief in his darkest moments. Where's my fic about these quiet moments of self-care being a straw he clutches to when everything else is terrible?
I love a good bathing together/doing each other's hair fic. It's intimate and loving! And Stede and Ed are prime material to write a mutual caretaking and bonding over it couple! Ed canonically loves soap and taking care of his hair! And Stede brought an entire fucking bathtub on a ship, the wonderful madman. S1 Stede's hair is always carefully curled, and we know that's not its natural state (it's wavy but not in this manner) from seeing him in S2, away from his certainly plentiful bath and grooming equipment. Stede probably has an hour of daily hair routine! We know he has nice smelling, probably expensive soaps. Where's the fic where they share in this?
There's so much potential! They can show each other their favourite care products! Sometimes they'll work on each other and sometimes not at all! Ed's rich hair oils will make Stede's hair all sticky and weird! Ed will think it's hilarious and adorable, he'll try to ruffle his hair and make it stick up worse and Stede will pout! 🥺 He'll look like this, just with weird spiky hair! One ill-advised day they try putting Stede's curlers in Ed's hair and then they almost can't get them back out because Ed's hair is so long and has lots of natural wave and it'll cling to the curlers and it's awful (they laugh about it afterwards, once Ed has very carefully brushed his hair out again and it no longer pulls at his scalp).
Makeup was a thing done by men and women at the time, especially for aristocrats (as seen in Episode 5), so Stede will know his way around hoity toity makeup, meaning rouges and whites (contained lots of lead, yuck!). Meanwhile Ed does pirate costume makeup for Blackbeard endeavours, that's a whole different thing. And both of these are makeups they don't actually enjoy doing (Stede avoids heavy makeup for the party, and Ed's Kraken makeup is part of his whole Everything Is Awful And I'm Making Myself Feel That look). But we see Ed do nice makeup that seems to be him! On his supposed to be final day on Earth, he cleans away all the Kraken coal, he cleans up his cabin, he gets rid of drugs, booze, Izzy (everything that was harming him), he does up his hair really nice and in a style that's very much Not Blackbeard, and he puts on a gorgeous bit of eyeliner that really brings out his eyes. And now that they're safe and happy together, when Ed decides he wants to look pretty today, not only can Stede lose his marbles over the look, Ed can also show him how to make his own eyes pop like that. They can stand in front of their mirror together, giggling and trying not to poke anyone in the eye.
Like. This is a fancy bathroom items for fancy bathroom items couple. They will bond over their love of bubble baths and nice smelling soaps and soft oils for hair and skin! They will learn each other's routines and how to do them just right for them. Let Stede learn that Ed loves his baths scalding hot (Stede has to wait a while for it to cool before he joins him in the tub because he'll get all pink and lightheaded). Let Ed learn how to put in Stede's curlers for him if Stede wants his hair to look extra fluffy the next day. Let Ed learn to massage Stede's back and Stede learn to massage Ed's knee. There's so much potential for loving caretaking with this ship. The trope doesn't at all require Ed to not know or not want to take care of his hair and hygiene. Fuck's sake.
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tartilli · 2 days
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wrio, neuvi, nd haitham w a gn!reader who has like the most angelic awooga voice and looks ever but has such an unhinged personality that it removes from the prior facts🧍. this is not a rq this is a demand
G/N!Reader x Wriothesley / Neuvillette / Alhaitham
can be read as platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer, really :)
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a/n: HELLO HI MILLIE i'm so sorry this took so long(i've been taking my finals) but i finally finished it!!!
this is my first time answering a request so i hope this is to your liking, there's mild swearing so proceed with caution if that isn't your thing
also i had no idea how to write any of the characters you mentioned so i had to study their characters and read fics centered around them
i wasn't entirely sure what format you wanted(bullet headcanons form or fic form) so i kind of went for a mix of both, if that's okay
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WRIOTHESLEY(i learned how to spell his name right just for this)
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when he first hears your voice, he is, to put it simply, taken a back.
if he's being honest, you're pretty good looking, but not exceptionally so(and it certainly doesn't help that you're in fontaine of all places).
so it comes as a surprise when you open your mouth, and the most heavenly sound wriothesley's ever heard, emerges from it.
it takes him several seconds to process it.
when he finally regains his composure, he shakes it off as just another new interesting thing in his life.
it soon becomes apparent, though, that the archons themselves unleashed you onto teyvat with the intent of bringing chaos to the land.
the two of you are playing tgc in his office, everything is going great(he's mostly winning) until you put down your deck, a serious expression on your face.
"wriothesley, i swear to the archons, if you win another game, i will shit on my first born."
okay what. just, what the actual fuck-
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NEUVILETTE
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being known as the aloof and serious ludex of fontaine, neuvilette has never been one for idle chat(really, it's moreso the fact that he's poor at it rather than any actual distaste for the thing).
so when he hears your voice for the first time, he thinks it notable, but decides not to comment.
however, as the two of you begin to spend more and more time together, he muses that hmm maybe he should mention it. so he does.
he doesn't want you thinking that he doesn't like your voice because he does! really, he does.
it soothes him, reminding him of the the soft gurgling sounds made by the waters of a river as waves rush past or the melodic sound of dewdrops falling off a leaf the morning after he finishes crying.
in short: neuvilette really likes your voice
but he's also incredibly concerned for its owner
the two of you will be walking around fontaine, enjoying eachother's company and discussing a confidential topic that neuvillette is privy to information concerning, you'll turn to him and say with the most casual expression on your face:
"if you tell me, i promise to give you each of my toes."
just when neuvillette thinks that he's beginning to understand humanity, he's proven wrong.
when he relays this to you, you only laugh.
privately, he's already compiled a list of all the best therapists in teyvat.
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ALHAITHAM
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"you have a unique voice."
that's the first thing he says upon meeting you.
well, at least he cut to the chase?
it's a secret to no one that alhaitham finds your voice amusing.
he'll often introduce you to new people just to see the shock on their faces when you make, what he likes to call, one of your statements.
he, himself, was a victim of one.
he'd been reading a book about the mortal body and its parts- fascinating stuff, really, when you walked up to him.
with the straightest face in all of teyvat, in your silky, angel-like voice, you uttered the sentence:
"only cool people don't have reproductive organs."
you proceeded to skip away as if you'd said nothing to him at all.
alhaitham was left bewildered(and a bit impressed).
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AAAA it's done
if it's bad it's probably because i was too tired to proofread 😞 but hopefully this isn't too ooc
i don't really like this one as it doesn't really display my personal writing style distinctively enough, i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, though!
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aita for dividing up my sideblogs by fandom and not being clear about the fact that theyre all the same person?
this has never landed me in any kind of drama or arguments yet, but its been on my mind for a long time so i want some second opinions. basically, i have a good handful of sideblogs and each one is for one specific fandom (or sometimes a few interconnected fandoms). the reason is not only for categorization (i really like keeping things categorized) but also because… i dont want to get called problematic and for every single sideblog to get that label too.
i dont think id get called out for the stuff i ship, because none of it is that uncommon or problematic. but its the fandoms im in specifically. there are some fandoms im in that some people really, really hate, most often because of rumors/assumptions about certain contents of the source being problematic, or a generalized annoyance at the people in the fandom. if i like someones art or writing in one fandom, i dont want them to have to know im in a fandom they hate for a stupid reason. im not guilty about that.
what ive been considering though is that some of the fandoms im in people hate or cant stand for pretty valid reasons. like, some of the fandoms im in do have actual racism, misogyny, and other shitty ideals in their sources, and while i understand how these things are harmful and dont agree with or tolerate these ideals in my fandom experience, i understand that there are some people who just dont ever want to be near that fandom or someone in it for those reasons. i understand that some people have had shitty experiences with certain fanbases and cant tolerate interacting with someone in those fanbases.
i think its reasonable to say that i shouldnt be interacting with people if they say they dont want to be interacted with by certain fandoms. theres no fandoms im personally uncomfortable with, but if there were, i dont know if id necessarily be okay with being circumvented without my knowledge just so people could look at my posts. and, despite saying earlier that im not guilty about interacting with people who hate fandoms im in for stupid reasons, i also dont know if im qualified to judge what a stupid reason is or not! someone saying they hate a certain fandom and not saying why isnt "not a good enough reason".
but also… what they dont know wont hurt them?? its not like im befriending any of these people. i barely talk to people directly online (its just not my thing, im not a very social person), i basically just reblog and leave compliments on art and writing. its not block evading, because ive never been in a situation where someone tells me on one sideblog to not interact with them and then i interact with them from a different sideblog. since the sideblogs all only interact with the same fandom, nobody from other fandoms even knows they exist.
sidenote that this is purely about fandoms themselves, not about shipping problematic things or specifically engaging with problematic fandom content, because thats really not my thing.
tl;dr i have a lot of sideblogs, and sometimes ill interact with someone who says they hate a certain fandom despite being in that fandom. they never know im in that fandom and im not befriending them. aita?
What are these acronyms?
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tiyoin · 2 days
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Now I'm thinking about twisted anxiety reader being able to sing really well. I feel like there could be some very interesting/funny moments (4 us not reader).
Reader probably only sings in a reclusive area like a forest around the dorm
I wanna say that the forest already has haunting rumors about it ,and when someone (jade or rook) hears reader singing they think that the "ghost" is up and active again. So students start doing a "test of courage" type thing.
I put Jade or Rook being the one to hear reader cuz they're really the only ones that would really be in that area without a reason.
I also know they're intelligent enough to know it's not a ghost ,but start the rumor anyways cuz they want to know who's singing. And it becomes this big thing the school trying to figure out.
Cut to reader losing her mind cuz she like "wow, I didn't know people thought it was that bad. How am I supposed to live, laugh, love ever again??"
When in reality they were just memorized by reader's singing. And they really want to find out who it is.
Bonus points if they film it and sent it to the group chat you posted about earlier. And reader just has to be like 🧍‍♀️ "whattt???? No way!! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ a random voice in the woods 😱😱"
I'm sorry for sending 2 long asks back 2 back ,but twisted anxiety just gets my head going.
Also if you don't like being sent stuff like this just tell me and I won't send any more. I don't want to over step at all. These are just like head cannons I give to reader ,cuz I just love making things worse for her. Can't let her know what peace is
YOU
hOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY HEAD 🫵
i’m going to give you the fattest smooch alive you don’t understand. AND I LOVE IT WHEN I GET LONG ASKS!!! so please! ask away i don’t mind, i actually get really flattered that people want to share with me their long, detailed thoughts !! i was actually nervous people wouldn’t like my long responses 😖
no cause that’s ALWAYS one troupe i ALWAYS go back to.
i was thinking about making them a singer, REALLY I WAS- but i had second thoughts cause i thought people wouldn’t like it / maybe people would think its too… y-nie or im trying to make twisted anxiety reader too much, ya know
BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU MEAH MWAH (also dw i got your other ask and fully plan on answering it, this one was just at the top of my inbox 🫶🫶)
but oh my god,,,, HEAR ME OUT;
twisted anxiety reader getting pent up because they. have. no. outlet.
none.
maybe they played a sport in their old world, but no longer can’t because seriously?? going up against beastmen, mermen, fae and just,,, men?! absolutely not.
they can’t do anything fun in ramshackle because of the ghosts can and will find a way to stick their noses into your business. also hello??? no privacy at ramshackle👎👎
honestly, twisted anxiety reader doesn’t have any friends so they can’t blow off steam that way either. and going to the gym is out of the question because 1. anxiety 2.gym bros- and working out at home is… different.
so there has to be a way to let off steam… good thing twisted anxiety reader dilly dallied in everything!!
they want to sing but aren’t confident enough to join the pop music club, and the walls to ramshackle are paper thin.
there’s absolutely no where you can go.
and yet… every time you glance at the forest. you can’t help but wonder…🤔
AND IVE ALWAYS IMAGINED READER SINGING
“everything stays” from adventure time
“love all mine” by mitski
“rises the moon” by liana flores
“sky fall” by adele
“memory” from cats
“listen” by beyoncé
“hopelessly devoted” by olivia newton-john
oh my god i have to make a separate post for this before i completely rot and accidentally write a whole chapter because i’ve been WAITING to write about this and i’d feel bad about making this SUPER LONG
but i can’t imagine rook going for a sunset “hike” (…sure, let’s go with that) and hearing you. belting your little heart to “hopelessly devoted” HAGFJAIWOFOSOWOFOAPEIFOZOQFOXOD
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ROOK IS AWE STRUCK
such passion! such devotion! how marvelously beautiful! rook is stunned.
of course after you finish singing he can hear you moan and groan about trivial things but- rook hunt was not a hunt if he didn’t appreciate the gift the forest provided.
and yet, the carful hunter made a careless mistake. cursing silently, he glared at the twig his boots stepped on before he snapped his head up to the clearing up ahead.
ah, you fled.
to say rook was… upset was an understatement. yes he was able to marvel in your voice, but he lost the privilege to listen to more, to observe from afar.
the strange songs you sang and possibly wrote (what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him) are gone with the wind and the high step of your foot as you vanished into thin air.
rook could easily hunt you down, but he stopped himself after a slight muscle twitch. non non! he was the enjoyer of beauty! not the hunter! yes he hunted beauty but it would go against his very being to trap it instead of let it fly free and continue its song.
so let this be your little secret, okay.
jade would def walk into you singing ‘everything stays’
OR OR ROOK N JADE BOTH TAG TEAMING READER IN THE CHAT SAYING HOW THEY WISH TO MEET THIS BEAUTIFUL VOICED GOREST ‘NYMPH’ SO THEY CAN HEAR MORE OF THEIR SONGS
readers just like;
😟
“time to find a new location☝️”
*there’s no where those two won’t be able to find you fyi*
TWISTED ANXIETY READER WILL NEVER KNOW PEACE‼️‼️ NOT AS LONG AS IM HERE‼️‼️
please send more headcanons i love reading them 🙇🏻🙇🏻
babes this is me n u rn:
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theemporium · 6 hours
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Congrats on 10k! I absolutely love your writing! It always makes me feel warm and fuzzy 💕
I was wondering if I could request violet fluff 💜 prompt #31 with James Potter? Thanks so much, hope you’re having a great day 🥰
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
31. “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met."
.
James Potter honestly thought he was losing his mind.
He liked to pride himself over the fact he was good with people: talking to them, understanding them, observing them. He was a social butterfly and fairly empathetic, and he could talk to a brick wall and somehow still make it one of the most entertaining conversations people have ever witnessed. 
He tended to thrive in social situations, basking in the attention when the spotlight was on him. He was never made for the shadows or outskirts. He was made to be the person someone could always rely on in public, the one who could change the conversation when needed or keep things from becoming stagnant and awkward. 
But all of those skills felt redundant and useless when it came to you. 
Because, here’s the thing—James is, like, ninety-nine percent sure that you aren’t doing it on purpose which honestly makes the whole thing worse.
James Potter is not a subtle man. Far from it, if anyone is concerned. He is open with his feelings and wants and desires and dreams. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he wears it proudly. And he has been flirting with you since day one. 
And you flirt back. He swears you flirt back. Hell, despite the way they mocked how lovesick and besotted he was, even his friends were sure you flirted back because that was the only way to describe your banter. It was flirty and teasing and, on some occasions, mimicked that of an old married couple.
But just when James thinks he is finally getting somewhere with you, you pull a total one-eighty on him and he is left thinking that you are unaware of it all. That maybe—just fucking maybe—you are oblivious to James’ obvious and unsubtle attempts. 
He is also pretty sure you don’t realise that half of your hangouts with the boy were his attempts at asking you on a date. 
And he was losing his goddamn mind. 
It’s almost ironic that all it would take was a potions assignment for things to come together.
“It’s a simple potion, there really shouldn’t be any mistakes or problems,” Slughorn announced as he wandered through the room, his robes swishing behind him with each step. “If you have any problems, just ask but this potion should be easy for your age.”
And the thing was, yeah, it was pretty easy. James looked at the instructions and it was something he could have done with his eyes closed if he really wanted to. 
But Remus wasn’t in class today, instead deciding to take the day off with the full moon having just passed. And your usual partner wasn’t in either. And now you were partners together and you were really pretty and, honestly, James couldn’t be blamed for being a little distracted. 
He also didn’t know that fucking up the potion would turn it into an accidental truth serum. 
In fact, he didn’t even realise until the two of you were too busy laughing at Slughorn demanding the two of you go to the bathrooms to clean up, halfway down the corridor when he turned to look at you and just blurted out the words before he could stop himself.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty.”
You paused, shoes squeaking against the floor as you looked at him with wide eyes. “What did you say?” 
And before he could even try to come up with an excuse, he was talking again. “I said you’re pretty. Because you are. I always think you’re pretty but you’re prettier when you laugh.”
You blinked. “You really think that?”
“Of course I do,” James retorted, almost snorting a little at the incredulous tone of your voice. “I think you’re one of the most gorgeous girls in this world. It’s why I flirt with you, like, every day.”
Your cheeks warmed. “Oh.”
“I’ve been in love with you since the day we met,” James continued because he couldn’t really bring himself to stop. “And I really want to kiss you all the time. I just don’t know if you like me back or not.”
“I do,” you blurted out, but there was a smile on your face—even if it was a little shy. “I do like you back. And I want to kiss you too.” 
“Sweet,” James grinned and then, because he was a man of action and promises, he closed the distance between the two of you. 
His warm palms cupped your cheek, his body pressed against every inch of your own before he kissed you. It was dizzying and slightly surreal. It made your head spin when his tongue swiped over your lips before exploring your mouth. It made your knees buckle when a low groan sounded from the back of his throat.
But it was everything the two of you wanted and more. 
And yeah, maybe James Potter was going to lose his mind if this was how good it felt to kiss you.
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songfell-ut · 2 days
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Songfell anniversary post, pt 3
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Last installment of pics I grabbed from posts off this Tumblr since I started it four years ago. I have been unbelievably spoiled by every single one of you, and if I didn't put something here, it was out of my negligence, not any fault of yours.
Please note that @venelona has done multiple amazing schmoopy poses of these two, and I will be putting them in loose chronological order with the rest. Wheee
(Part 1, Part 2)
...Okay, it turns out most of these are not specific. Here are the more chronologically oriented arts, starting with:
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This is pretty iconic, by @nascent-chaos. Have you ever heard the expression "You've caught a wolf by the ears" or "a bear by the tail"? It means the second you get out of a stalemate, you're gonna get eaten. Not applicable here, nope nope
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Her very first clear memory from the box ;_; by @cuddlyquiche.
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A couple of very early bits from Vene. I think that one is probably the most accurate depiction of their size difference, which I've had multiple artists kinda fudge for the sake of getting them in the same frame. Also he's so pleased they match, gigantic dorkburger
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Possibly my favorite from Vene ^_^
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Skipping way on ahead to the bubble fight by @sharkowskii. I just. Ahhh my kokoro
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Speaking of which DDDDDDDD: why is Vene so good at expressions
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Case in point: "U mad, bro?" but no, Undyne and Papyrus are the greatest bros
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And again x4. We understand the value of a tiny waifu around here, don't we, Sans?
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Damn straight
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Variation on a theme, by Sharky (the theme is "socks")
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Now we've got the dresses she wore for her last couple days in the Underground. There's this totally-not-bridal-ha-ha-silly-man by Catler1, grabbed off Discord because I wanted the complete set.
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Still wildly infatuated with this one by @melikitinas ~
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Shoes not made for dancing, by @feelisia
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And a dress made for because I wanted a pretty golden gown (thank u Vene)
Now we have the more miscellaneous pieces, though the second of these by @matchamanx is prooobably from a bit later in the story :D
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(I watched Star Versus the Forces of Evil recently, and yes, Frisk would absolutely pull the same shit as Eclipsa. Git 'im gurl)
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A formal portrait with a dress I keep forgetting to steal from @stacyyyep
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This is so soft ahjdhjf @marihem
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The pfp for my sorely neglected Patreon Discord server eh heh heh yeah another by @xxkoichiixx
And last of the collection is a fantastic piece by @lostmypotatoes herself, with an expression that could not more clearly say "Why, this old thing? I only wear it when I'm being an absolute goddamn queen treated exactly as I deserve" 😙
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Cheers, everybody. I'll have written things to post as soon as I finished writing them. Mwah mwah kisses etc.
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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 14 hours
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Mind the Gap, Chapter 1
Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader, Matt Murdock & Reader (Platonic)
Rating: E
Word count (per chapter): ~500 (Just to set the story up, future chapters will be longer!)
Story Summary: When Michael gets sent across the pond to fix an issue with the Kinsella clan's drug trade expansion into New York City, he never expected to meet and fall for a pretty law clerk from the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. But when she gets abducted by a rival cartel, Michael will have to enlist the help of the very vigilante that's trying to take down his entire operation.
Warnings/Tags: Kin/Daredevil crossover, Canon-typical violence (for both shows), Platonic Matt Murdock/Reader, Smut in later chapters, More tags to come
A/N: After announcing this MONTHS ago, it's finally here -- the Daredevil/Kin crossover no one asked for, but I decided to write anyway. Lol
Note that this is a Michael Kinsella x Reader fic -- there is no love triangle between Mikey, Reader, and Matt.
If you want to be added to the taglist for this or any of my other ongoing stories, or if I was supposed to tag you/tagged you in error, please let me know!
Tag list: @danzer8705 @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @shouldbestudying41 @finnishjerseygirl @ednaaa-04 @ebathory997 @beezusvreeland @capylore
Fuckin' hell, let's get this over with, Michael Kinsella thought to himself as he trudged up the driveway to his sister-in-law’s house.
He had just gotten word that the Garda had wrapped up their investigation into his father's and uncle’s deaths and had ruled the case a murder-suicide -- therefore clearing him from further questioning -- when Amanda had texted that she was calling a meeting.
Amanda opened the door before he had even reached it. “Hey,” she said.
Michael walked in. “Hi.”
Amanda closed the door behind him. “Hadn't seen ya in a while.”
Aye, and there's a fuckin' reason for tha’, Michael thought.
As Amanda had started taking over more and more territory and doing whatever she had to in order to stay on top, Michael had realized that it hadn't ever been him that she had wanted, it had been the Kinsella name and the power and prestige that had come with it. 
While he hadn't ever regretted having Jamie, he had regretted sleeping with Amanda when she had come on to him while Jimmy had been in prison all those years ago and again more recently when her marriage had been falling apart and Michael had been dealing with finding out about Molly being engaged.
He shrugged. “Been busy.”
“Wan’ a drink?”
Michael shook his head. What he wanted was to go back home.
Amanda pursed her lips, but before she could say anything else, Birdy arrived.
“So what's ya call a meetin’ for?” Michael asked once they had all sat down at Amanda's kitchen table.
Amanda folded her hands together in front of her and leaned forward. “I called ya over because we're takin’ over some operations in America and I need ya ta go oversee tha transfer. There's been some issues.”
Michael was taken aback. “Me? Why me?”
“Because we're all busy -- I’m tryin’ ta clean up tha mess Bren left while also dealin’ wit' Jimmy's shite, Viking is workin' on getting tha houses reopened, and Birdy's still dealin’ with Frank's estate. Yer’ that only one left who we can trust ta take care a’ things.”
“Plus I think it'll be good for ya to get away for a while ‘till things settle down again,” Birdy added. 
Michael shook his head. “Are ya forgettin’ tha’ I'm a convicted felon? They won' even let me on a plane, much less inta another country.”
“Tha's already taken care of.” Birdy picked up a manilla envelope off of the table and handed it to him. “Everything is in here.”
Michael opened it to find an ID and passport.
He looked at the ID. “Michael O’Brien?”
Amanda shrugged. “Best we could do on short notice. ‘Least ya get ta go by yer first name.”
Birdy cut her eyes over to Amanda briefly before turning back towards Michael. “Flight’s already booked. Ya leave on Thursday.”
Michael sighed, resigned. “Where exactly am I goin?”
A satisfied look spread across Amanda's face as she leaned back. “New York City.”
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cadybear420 · 1 day
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Cadybear's Reviews- Murder at Homecoming
Welcome to the thirty-seventh official Cadybear's Reviews! Today I'll be talking about Murder at Homecoming, which I have ranked on the "Platinum Tier" at 9 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this was during September-December 2022.
This is definitely one of the better, if not the best release, of 2022, and it’s easily among my personal faves. 
A MC who is proactive and gets shit done, multiple LIs, highly compelling story. How can I not love that? All three of the LIs are amazing characters– and Tyler especially is just precious. I think he’s the first love interest I have ever adored nearly as much as I’ve adored Aiden. I miss when we had male LIs that are just so babygirl. 
The incorporation of mature topics and queer themes was especially excellent. MTFL, take notes! Because THIS is how you write a teen story that talks about queer sexuality and mature behaviors. Besides maybe BiBound I mean BloodBound, this is probably the first book in Choices where each LI has some degree of confirmed sexuality outside of their LI option status for the MC. 
One thing that’s especially notable is how Tyler will talk about how he used to think he was straight if you romance him as a male or enby MC. I normally don’t mind much when LIs in GOC stories are made with the “playersexual” style of writing, but these sort of little changes are a good show of effort and give Tyler more character.
But of course, it’s not without a handful of problems. 
Like COP (1), the story is incredibly linear and none of the clues or choices really affect your story. Sure, they give you a bit of extra background, but that’s about it. 
The only choices that really have any impact are the stuff related to the queer discussions, Tyler’s romance route, and how the options for how your MC can talk about their queer experience can change based on your MC’s gender and romance choices. Which is still highly praiseworthy, don’t get me wrong, but I’d have loved to see some variation in the other elements of the book too.
And as much as I did enjoy this MC and do consider them one of the more refreshing ones, they were also a bit too rigid and pre-set for me at times. I get that some MCs will need to have pre-set details about them, and to some degree that does apply to this MC, but it was a bit much at times. Like, there was especially no need to give them a default first AND last name. I do like the aspect of MC preferring to go by their middle name, but we still could have been allowed to change their first and last names too, to be honest. 
I found it really hard to feel for the loss of Perdita for this reason; the traumatic event backstory didn’t feel as well established, compared to that of ILITW and ACOR MCs. Though to be fair, I do remember there being a handful of premium scenes to see a memory with Perdita, and I do remember skipping all but two of them. 
But even then, I never felt she had quite as much importance as the writers clearly wanted her to have? Outside of being a motivator for MC to solve Gabbie’s case and allowing MC to connect with Donovan better. Maybe my opinion on this might change after I give it a replay, though. 
That being said, I’m actually fine with the story not telling us what really happened to Perdita, as much as I’d have loved a continuation for this book. MC not knowing what happened to Perdita is what motivated them to solve Gabbie’s case, and in that regard, the two cases kind of juxtapose one another. Whereas MC is able to get closure for Gabbie’s case, they don’t do that for Perdita’s case. And that’s fine, because sometimes we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. 
That makes the ending a little more nuanced in my opinion. Sometimes, we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. While I’m still mixed on how well the story integrated Perdita, this message was handled decently and didn’t feel like it was in bad spirit. 
So if there were a continuation for this story, I wouldn’t mind it being centered around MC finding Perdita, motivated to work on that case more actively after their success with Gabbie’s case. But rather than having them solve the case, it can mostly center around them struggling between whether they should keep up that search, or leave it as a cold case and move on. 
Overall, definitely a higher-tier and very respectable story that definitely deserves a replay. 
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caputvulpinum · 1 year
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My Anger, or: Dinner Is On The Table And I Am Holding A Knife
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(URL of asker censored to protect their identity from the current TERFs going around like a bad orange blight.)
I don't usually like responding to these sorts of asks. But I guess the question "How do you manage to have any faith in humanity left at all?" is one I'll keep getting asked, so here's my answer. I wrote an essay about it. Read it if you want, skip it if you don't, but it has my answer.
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Are you hungry? Food is my love language. I don't let people go hungry. Food is my love language. You need to eat well. I'm not going to let you not eat well. I made you this, I hope you like raisins. I can’t let you be hungry.
I don't do this because I am nice. I am furious. I am enacting with every loaf of bread and chicken breast and crushed almond nuts an act of terrible, irrevocable rebellion against the state. When I feed people I am throwing a brick at a cop at Stonewall, I am refusing to allow a system of cruelty to keep those around me hungry. I do this because the only way people will know that they're allowed to eat when they're hungry is if they're fed when they're hungry.
I love you. Have this half of my orange. Take a handful of chips. I made too much bread. I love you. Here, I have an extra banana. I don’t like this flavor, do you want it? Sure, you can have a bite, do you want some too? I love you recklessly and relentlessly and without reason. I love you violently and unrepentantly, have this apple, have this pear, have everything I can ever afford to give you and some of what I cannot, because I love you and therefore I must hate what makes you hungry.
I love you, and therefore, I must hate what makes you hungry.
Food is my love language. I won’t let people go hungry.
    -Untitled poem, self. September 19th, 2022, 4:56pm.
Nearly everything I've written for the past four years was just saying the same thing over and over again differently.
In reincarnation matter is not created or destroyed. It is a fermenting apple fallen from the front yard tree, it is the soil mulch it becomes growing the next apple on its branch. It is made of cycles and closed loops. Reincarnation is an airplane in the sky which will never land.
There are smaller reincarnations, though. The memory of something so strong it aches your jaw? The heavy heart heaving blood across its body even after the running was done? The ghosts in that blood, the people you never became seven years ago? There are loops within these loops. The circles are more than circles.
I started cooking only a few years ago. The first thing I ever made was bread. Challah bread, and it was warm and motherly and raisin-filled. But the first thing I remember cooking was ciabatta. Me and mine would tear off hunks of loaf with our hands and stain our mouths red with laughter and vinegar. I am no longer theirs and they are no longer mine but that is my memory of them and I. My memory of that life is one where I knead the dough and bake the bread and laugh with them over and over.
All this is to tell you that every poem I write has been the same for four years, over and over, smelling like plastic armrests and ginger ale. It is all just saying in newer and stranger ways that I love you. I love you, I hope we both eat well.
-”Little Cramped Florida Apartment First Saturday Where I Found Milk And Honey”, self. January 6th, 2022. 11:49pm.
    This last iteration of this narrative was the only one with something worthwhile to say. Anger is overwhelming for me. Let me tell you how I see myself in Sisyphus, pushing a hopeless boulder up a mountain. This time I will try to keep a better grasp on my boulder, which is that anger I am always, always feeling. I wish I could say, “I wish I was not an angry person”, but that isn’t who I am. To let go of that fury would leave me cold, and alone, and unsure of what to do. But those who are always angry have a duty to control that anger, make it a prism from which light can shine into and out of more brilliantly than before.  
    The past year has been about understanding who I am when my back isn’t against the wall. In some ways it’s more terrifying, having the responsibility of making a good life for myself from good foundations. But I remember with every second what it was like to live a life without the luck I’ve been given, and I see the people that get denied it every day. If anger is powerful, I want to use that anger. I want to wield it and make something so angry that everybody will be angry with me. An anger in a single direction, with one edge like a knife, to cut the world down the middle and into a better shape, and hand it to everyone like halves of an orange. I only have two hands to make any piece of art with, and I will only ever have (at most, at my most fortunate) two hands. But I don’t stand alone in being angry at this cruel, foolish world, the one which looks at children and teaches them “You are not worth anything, you have no value or sanctity just because you are human,” and laughs and calls us childish when we say we deserve better than that.
    Because that’s the most formative thing about me of all. The selfish, bitter dregs of feeling hurt and betrayed by the world. The incredibly egotistical idea, “I deserved a better world”. Look at my past self and all of the cruel, flailing, foolish things I did–some on purpose, some not, all causing harm anyway–and think about what I could do about it.
    I think that, on one hand, yes. I deserved better, objectively. There are things in my narrative that no one deserves the agony of. Beyond that, perhaps I deserved better circumstances.
    But I think it doesn’t matter what I deserved in the past, good or bad. What matters more to me is not making the same mistakes in the future. I can’t allow myself to resent the people around me for being maybe a little bit more lucky than I was; there’s art to be made that could change the world. All of it is made out of anger. All of my past, all of my future, it can only ever be anger. Anger that creates, anger that cuts, anger that hardens, anger that stands in front of other people and walks the line for them.
    Anger that stands in front of other people and walks the line for them. I’d almost like that to be the narrative I make for myself. To make a world in which I can say that the events that formed me most are not the ones which hardened me like lava to obsidian, proud like a boar. Instead, a world where I met its hard edges as gentle as I dared. You may have wondered why I sounded so different in the poems I write than the person I am, and the truth is almost simple.
    I learned to write poetry to put to words all the things that I feel which I’m unable to understand or say. That’s the narrative I’ve been trying hard to tell you all, all this time, the one I want to write so badly and yet have no idea how to.
    Writing about anger is so easy for me, except for that one kind, the kind I think I know for certain most defines my narrative, because I can never talk about it except in poems. It lives in me somewhere deeper than anything else, deeper than my heart, deeper than my soul. It can only come out in art, not in words. That anger lives in my belly and it growls like a great black dog every time it thinks it sees someone being hurt. I think that says the most about me that I’ll ever be able to say.
    So we come back to the beginning for the end. As I wrote before; “There are loops within these loops. The circles are more than circles.” I had to try and write this essay three different ways, and this is the third way, the only one worth reading. It’s the only one where I’m angry in a way I think might do good in the world.
    I really hope that whoever reads this can agree.
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crossbackpoke-check · 8 months
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a doc of omega yamo being a nuisance, you say?
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well…
#the doc sure does exist 🤷#me waiting to post this until i had compiled all the tags into the doc so it wasn’t just the empty doc i started with good intentions#that just said ‘yowling’#and then me not even doing that 😭 what’s in the doc right now? absolutely unhinged shit from ANOTHER yamo post. why#liv in the replies#anon i love you so much. this is the correct method to get me to do things (be interested) (bully me a little) (i have to write FOR someone)#maybe if i actually write something for omega yamo being a nuisance i will post snippets#and not have to create elaborate rules about posting them. also i keep telling myself it helps to be like. home & functioning to write#& maybe if i chilled the fuck out a little bit i would have the time to do fun things i like but i feel like i have been saying#‘ok once i get through this [semester/summer/working/class/season]’ for like. three years now but also i don’t feel like i have stopped ever#in my life so that may also be part of the issue. anyway! in the mindset now that i have to make time for things that bring me joy/creative#because otherwise there will never be time#but also telling myself that like. i work seven days a week 8.5-9 hours a day plus commute/classwork so it’s ok to only be able to come home#& do Adult Tasks & write my coursework requirements & ALSO i’m doing my fucking applications which i really really need to do & should take#priority & i am going to need to work very hard to do because. i don’t want to do them :)#so!!!! this is your daily tag dump on a post which it is not relevant to (on brand for me)#but also the point was to say thank you i love you please have 0 expectations because i don’t want to disappoint you#but i love your encouragement and am not taking it to be any pressure!! i just have to preface bc i am like this
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