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#but she will harp about it a little every time i see her now and it's annoying
mausarchive · 1 year
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bedtime and im thinking about moomins. endocrinologist tomorrow ☠️
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polaroidpascal · 3 months
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paradise city || joel miller
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AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE
pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader
summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.
tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc
fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol (picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)
WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)
a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3
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You and your friends have had a week. 
Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.
Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them. 
“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”
The complaining did help them destress a bit.
You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers. 
You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.
“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.
You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.
“No. not yet,” you tell her.
“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.
“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.
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The bar is crowded. 
You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show. 
Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.
The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music. 
The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest. 
Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion. 
The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.
But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well. 
He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…
Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place
I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white
But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth
…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?
And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—
“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.
You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?
You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.
He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.
He put on a show. All just for you.
Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.
The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.
You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you
The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.
I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself
He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.
I wanna fuck you like an animal  // I wanna feel you from the inside  // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God
He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.
You have to have this man.
Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.
When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.
“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.
“So…?”
“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.
You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”
“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.
“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”
“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”
You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.
Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”
As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.
You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.
“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”
“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.
“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.
“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.
“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.
You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”
“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.
Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.
You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.
He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”
“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”
“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”
You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”
“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”
You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.
“How so?”
“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”
His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”
“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”
He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.
You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”
You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.
“No, we took an Uber.”
“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”
Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…
You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.
“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.
A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.
Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.
He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.
“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”
You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.
The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.
You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”
He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.
You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you. 
He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.
Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.
He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.
His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”
Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.
His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.
His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there. 
“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”
You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.  
You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.
You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.
He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.
His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right. 
“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.
He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.
Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down. 
His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly. 
“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.
You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink. 
“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.
He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.
Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.
When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.
When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.
Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”
“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”
A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”
Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”
Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”
His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.
You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”
He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”
He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side. 
He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart. 
You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.
Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.
He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”
You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.
You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.
“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself. 
But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth. 
Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”
You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”
“You sure, darlin’?”
“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod. 
He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.
His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.
He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”
You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.
“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.
His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.
You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—
He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.
You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.
“Get back on the bed,” he demands.
So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp. 
He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”
You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.
He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”
You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.
“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.
You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.
You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.
“What d’ya mean?”
“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”
He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.
You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.
“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.
You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”
He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed. 
“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.
He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.
“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”
The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.
You need to find a way to keep this man.
The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.
You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek. 
He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”
“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.
He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”
You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.
“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.
“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat. 
“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust. 
“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.
“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it. 
“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you. 
You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.
You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…
“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.
“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.
“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”
“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.
You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.
My good girl…
That one little word finally hits you after a minute. 
My.
His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.
“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.
“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.
“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.
He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.
Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.
When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.
You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”
You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.
“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.
“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.
“Want you to come for me… Please…”
“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes. 
“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.
“Where, baby? Want it inside?”
“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.
“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”
You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.
“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.
Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.
“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”
Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.
Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.
Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.
“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.
You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”
“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”
You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”
“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”
“But I made a mess—”
“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”
You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.
He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.
“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.
“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”
“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.
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When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.
He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.
Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...
You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:
You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.
All yours.
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a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!
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sunsetkerr · 4 months
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KISS & TELL | s.kerr
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summary: the girls find out exactly who gave you that ring [789 words]
pairing: matildas!reader x sam kerr
notes: the long-awaited second part to 'hush hush'! this was the most voted wip to work on, next piece will be too far gone which was the second most popular xx happy valentines week loves!
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IT WENT ON FOR about a week.
Your teammates pestered you all throughout camp about who gave you your engagement ring, and most importantly, how you kept it a secret for so long.
You gave them bits and pieces. Oh, we've been together for a few years now, but we've just kept it private..... She's super busy lots of the time, really hectic work schedule...... We played soccer together growing up.... You just didn't relay that you still play together. That your fiancee actually captains you.
Sam was enjoying every moment of it. She loved the secrecy, she adored watching her teammates pull their hair out over it. Chids had a whole shared notes app dedicated to adding information about your dubbed, 'mystery woman'. Sam revelled in her new title.
She was feeling extra cheeky, there was no denying that. Sam was at her peak watching everyone scramble around, listening as you slipped out little pieces of information of your relationship together.
Did you feel guilty that you hadn't told your team? Sure. But you and Sam never really felt the need to. They're your family, you love them with your whole heart- but this was one thing you and Sam just wanted for yourselves.
"Well I want to help plan your hens night," Alanna shrugged. The topic of your secret engagement had come up again after dinner one night.
"No because I'm not going unless you tell us!" Macca argued from her spot on the beanbag, Harper on her lap. You laughed, crossing your arms and putting your feet up on the couch.
"We can do without the numbers, Mac" You waved her off.
"Hey Y/N?" Ellie walked into the lounge area looking for you. "Can I grab my pre-wrap from you tonight please? I wanna start packing for Queensland,"
"Always punctual as usual" Mini chirped from her place on the couch, your feet resting in her lap.
"Shut up" Ellie quipped.
You chuckled, "Yeah, let me go grab it". You headed off towards your room and managed to pinch Sam's ass on your way past her, distracting her from the in-depth conversation she was having with Steph.
You chuckled as she tried her best to ignore you, but you knew she could never. Once you got into your room, it was only a matter of seconds before Sam followed you in. She crept up behind you and snaked her arms around your waist, tickling you as she squeezed you tight.
"You're cheeky, hey" She laughed, kissing your cheek as you giggled and tried to push your way out of her grasp. She moved her way down to your neck and you tried your best not to squirm in pleasure, knowing that at any second anyone could come-
"Aunny Sammy and Y/N are kissing!"
Your heart dropped and you pulled apart from Sam. You both turned around to see Harper standing in the doorway, pointing at you and Sam who she had just caught in the act.
"Mummy!" She ran off, yelling down the hallway.
"Harps, Harper! No!" You called after her, running down the hallway. She was surprisingly fast for a near-three year old. By the time you managed to find her she was already halfway through relaying to your team what she had seen.
"They kiss! Sam and Y/N kiss like Mum and Mummy!" She smiled looking back over to you. Sam had now come up behind you, a guilty look on her face, your lipgloss smeared on her lips.
"Skip.." Mary spoke up, slowly looking from you to Sam. "Is that true? Did you kiss Y/N?" She asked a shocked look on her face. The rest of your team looked at you both in silence.
Sam begrudenly crossed her arms over her chest and nodded her head shyly, a smile breaking out on her lips. "She just got engaged, Sam.. Not cool" Mary shook her head.
"Oh my god," Alanna erupted.
"Are you serious Maz?"
"Jesus fucking Christ" Mackenzie put her head in her hands with a sigh.
"What?" Mary held up her hands, looking from everyone back to you both. Sam chuckled and stepped forwards, holding up your hand that dawned your shiny new engagement ring.
You saw the cogs turn in her head before they finally clicked. "Oh my god!" She screamed, rushing over to congratulate you both. The girls all followed suit, shouting at you both for keeping it a secret from them all for so long.
"I can't believe you!" Alanna hugged you from behind, her arms around your neck.
"I don't kiss and tell, Kennedy!" You smiled as you watched Sam explain to your team how she proposed. You were so happy to finally have your team in on your secret. It just made it all that much sweeter.
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wosoamazing · 4 months
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Emails, Transfer Disputes and Harper
Summary: You get a long awaited email, there are some transfer disputes at camp and you spend time with Harper
Warnings: Some swearing, yelling I guess, angst (I think)
A/N: Plot twist..... maybe, maybe not?
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You were sitting against the back wall of the common room finishing off the last of your schoolwork for the day. When you got an email, not just an email, the email, you opened the email and started reading, not caring that essentially the rest of the team was in the room.
‘Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, blah blah, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, blah blah, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Blah blah blah’
It’s safe to say a wave of relief flooded over you, you had put in this request 6 months ago, your final year of school was looming just 3 weeks away now, and so too were the Olympics in a year, tears started to stream out your eyes, you couldn’t believe it, you didn’t think they would say yes, the request was purely put in to see, no one thought they would say yes, let alone do more.
“What’s wrong” a soft voice said as a small hand was placed on your shoulder, you looked up to see sweet little Harper in front of you.
“These aren’t sad tears Harps, these are happy tears,” you replied to her, pulling her in for a great big hug.
“What’s happening, are you okay Y/N/N?” Steph said as her and Sam walked in totally confused, everyone turned around to see you tears streaming down you face, hugging harper, with a huge smile on your face, they were also totally confused.
“They, they said yes Steph,” “Who did? Wait. No, they said yes! Om my God, I’m so happy for you.”
“Who said yes?” “The education people, she-”
“Read,” you said shoving the computer into Steph’s hands, standing up, now holding Harper, who just pressed her head into the crock of your neck and relaxed, which Mini took a photo of, she had so many photos of you and Harper together, she could fill a stadium with them.
“Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, whatever, whatever, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, whatever, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Whatever, whatever.” Said read the email out loud, her mouth dropped in shock. “Wait, they’re doing more?”
“Yep” you replied emphasising the P.
“Wait this means you are available to be picked for the Olympics now, we need to go to Tony”.
“You do know there is no guarantee you will be picked though right” someone said.
“Uh, have you seen the girl play,” Sam responded.
“She makes the oppositions defence look like a joke; trust me I’ve been on the other side of it” Alanna added.
“Anyway, if I don’t get picked for this team, I have been promised there is a spot for me on another team. I’ll tell Tony tomorrow; I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been told as well though.”
“You know what I loved to see you place against Barca,”
“Well, if you accept Emma’s offer that could hap-” Sam started but you cut her off “Yeah and if I accepted Barca’s offer I could play for Barca.”
“Wait, you’ve got offers from Barca and Chelsea?” Steph asks.
“Yeah, and City, and like basically every other club, can we not talk about this right now?”
“But have you actually thought about this, this is serious,” “Yeah, I’m not an imbecile contrary to what you may think, Arsenal found out and offered more than Barca and Chelsea, but they raised them, I told Arsenal, and they are coming back to me,”
“Wait, Emma raised her offer? She was already offering more than she pays me, that’s insane, and Barca did too, and Arsenal might raise them again.” Sam questions with surprise in her voice.
“Yeah” you say back to her, slightly insulted by how much shock she is in.
“So, you’re staying at Arsenal?” Caitlin askes.
“I don’t know, I have to think about it, talk to my parents about it, have the dreaded conversation with Leah, honestly Leah is probably the reason Arsenal is trying to raise again, if I go, she’ll probably go too. But even if she doesn’t go lets be honest, the team works the way it does and its successful because of the dynamic we have, a very fragile dynamic at that, with any one of us gone, its going to fall down a cliff, which is risky, its risky to stay at Arsenal, Barca might not ever offer this sort of money again, or even worse they might not ever give me an offer again” you pause for a moment before you put Harper on the ground “why don’t you go back to your Mama” she nods and walks back over to Mini, who sends you an apologetic look, she knew why you put Harper down and it shouldn’t have to be that way but it is “Arsenal is the dream team, you are all amazing everyone there is my family, but Barca is also the dream team, playing with the best players day in day out at training, competing against some of the best, a +66 goal difference, I mean how could you not want that, and the fact that they increased their offer after Arsenal raised them that means something, you get an offer at Barca you jump at it you, don’t look at the figure, you don’t question, we all know how it works, you question, you hesitate Barca takes the offer away, and Lucy and Kiera say everyone there is super friendly and lovely and they think I would fit right in.”
“You’ve spoken to Lucy Bronze and Kiera Walsh about Barca? But haven’t mentioned a word about it to anyone at Arsenal, your club”.
“Yeah, it’s not like I owe you guys anything”.
“So, Chelsea isn’t on the cards th-” “No Sam Chelsea isn’t on the cards, Chelsea was never on the fucking cards, it was always going to be Baraca or Arsenal. Why am I letting you all do this to me? It’s my decision. It’s my fucking life! I’m going up” you start to walk away, before you turn around and look at Sam and Steph “and don’t you dare even think to follow me,” and with that your gone.
______
“Shit” Sam said.
“Well, we fucked that one up,” Steph added.
“Yep, you did” Raso replied as she got up.
“Where are you going?”
“To go check on her,”
“But-” “no, that was directed at you two, and also anyone else who said something, I’m neutral territory here”.
The team was left in silence until Steph broke it “Shit, I have our Room key. We were on better terms this morning; we didn’t think she would need her own”.
“I’ll go up, give it here, she probably won’t want to stay in there tonight anyway. She can stay with me. Here Charli take Harper, I’ll be back down for her though”.
____
“Hey kid, are you okay?” Hayley asks you; she seems very hesitant, she didn’t get much else in before Mini came up.
“Rass, I’ve got it from here” Mini said, Hayley got up and left, knowing this was more of a Mini job.
Mini sat down next to you, “No, but are you okay?” she asks while putting an arm around your shoulders, a few tears escape your eyes, which you quickly and aggressively wipe away.
“I-I, I don’t know” you sigh.
“They shouldn’t have done that, they immediately regretted it, but still they shouldn’t have done that, it’s absolutely incredible that, this is happening, they should be happy for you, but I think they let their pride and hurt egos get in the way.”
“I just don’t understand how they can go from talking about how ‘amazing’ I am to then being surprised I got an offer from more than one club, and from big clubs at that.”
“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was a bit caught out, she spends so much time with you and-”
“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone knew, not even Leah”.
“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was truly caught off guard, you talk like Arsenal is your home and then just blurt out you’re thinking about moving, I don’t think she thought you had thought about it.”
“Well, Arsenal is my home, but they say home is where the heart is, and I think if you take out the players my heart isn’t there, and I just feel like things are getting too easy at Arsenal, and I want a change, I’ve been part of arsenal for so long, first through Leah, then the academy and now, I love arsenal, it will always hold a piece of my heart, but I think I need to move, I want to improve, and that’s not going to happen at Arsenal”
“Well, that was easy”.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty certain you’ve made your decision, you just need to tell Leah, and the others. Trust me, once they get over their hurt egos, and feelings of betrayal they will be happy for you, and Leah has already been caught off guard by you once”.
“Yeah okay, where is my number one supporter by the way?”
“Oh she is downstairs with Charli, I thought it was best if I left her down there so we could have an adult conversation, but I have this which you might want.” She hands you your room key, “get the stuff you’ll need for tonight and tomorrow, you can have a sleepover with harper and me tonight, she is going to be so excited.”
“Y/N/N!” Harper exclaims when she walked into her room to find you sitting there.
“Harper” you exclaim back matching her energy, she jumps into your arms, and you throw her into the air and catch her, before jumping onto the bed, “what do you want to do?”
“Ice cream?” you look over to Mini.
“Why not, let’s go”. You Mini and Harper go out to ice-cream together, as you walk past the others in the common room you just ignore them, they all seem to be sitting in an awkward silence.
“Harper, you are all sticky, where are the wipes?” you exclaim as harper smushes her sticky face into you for a hug after she had finished her ice-cream.
“Here,” Mini slides the wipes over to you.
“No don’t, hey come back here,” Mini pulls her phone out to film the two of you, harper is running around the park to get away from you and you’re chasing her with a wipe in either hand.
“Ha, got you,” you say as you grab her, proceeding to wipe her sticky face and hands.
“Park?” “You want to go play in the park?” Harper nods her head, so you take her hand and walk over to the park together, you spent most of the afternoon in the park. You pushed harper on the swings. Unsuccessfully taught her how to pump herself on the swings. You went down the slide, a few too many times. Your afternoon was finished off by teacher harper how to do the monkey bars, which she was very good at – with help of course. Mini sat at the table while you two played, she looked up every now and then to check things were okay, but she seemed to make many phone calls, usually you would ask who it was, but you were having too much fun with harper to care.
_____
“I just won’t have dinner tonight, I’ll be fine,” “No, you will be going to dinner, Tony said he wanted everyone there, especially after what happened today, and no one is allowed to leave until he has spoken to us” you huff “Come on lets go now, you can sit with us, just sit at one of the back tables, you can then sit somewhere so you don’t have to see them,” Mini said as she dragged you up.
“Here take her, go sit, I’ll get food,” Mini says handing Harper to you as you walk into the dining room,  there are only 4 people in there currently not including you three, yet somehow one of the people you really don’t want to see is standing at the food bar. You go and find a seat, Mini comes back, with food. You have finished yours, but Harper hasn’t even touched her diner, she insists you feed her, so that you do, until Mini saw something.
“Um,” “What?” “I’ll message you,” she pulls out her phone, you phone vibrates on the table, and you quickly pick it up to read her message.
Gorry: Steph just walked in, gave Sam a dirty look as she walked past and Sat down at a different table.
Your jaw drops and Mini nods her head, you make questioning eyebrows at her and she just shrugs. You two captains always sat next to each other during mealtimes, or at least at the same table, you were often seen with them too but every now and then you sat with others, trying to expand your social circle. So, the fact that they aren’t sitting together is very odd.
After everyone had basically finished their dinner Tony got up, and started to talk, “Girls, I would just like to say the behaviour today was unacceptable, and I am extremely ashamed at the actions of our captains and older teammates, if anything it was our youngest teammate who showed the most maturity by walking away. Please know that if this sort of behaviour ever happens again on camp there will be punishment, and I’m not just talking laps. Steph and Sam can I talk to you outside please, the rest of you are free to enjoy your night.”
“I can’t believe I am having to do this girl, and I still can’t believe I saw what I saw this afternoon.” Tony starts yelling at your captains not realising the door hasn’t shut completely.
“Wait what happened? Why am I not getting in trouble, he wasn’t there was he?” you ask Mini.
“I don’t know, and no he wasn’t”.
“Oh boy did you two miss something, it was kind of good you left when you did,” Macca started.
“Yeah so basically once you had gotten harper and left, Steph finally broke the really awkward silence and asked Sam why she reacted the way she did when you said Arsenal raised and then Barca and Chelsea did again, and Sam was like ‘She is only sixteen and getting paid more than me, and I’m assuming you too’, which to be honest was a low blow, like she just attacked Steph there but anyway, Steph then said ‘Well, yeah she is fucking good’, and Sam replied ‘oh course you would say that,’ Steph asked her what she meant and she was like ‘oh well she’s your little mini me, always with you, always coming to you for help, and you always drop everything to help her, you act as if she is the sun and we all revolve around her’ which obviously Steph was taken aback by and was like ‘Oh, so now I’m the bad guy for not only fulfilling my captain duties but being a nice person, you know Sam we are meant to be approachable and help our teammates especially the younger ones, and of course she comes to me for help, she’s a kid, like we joke Kyra and Charli and all that are kids but she is actually a kid, you have to take more care with her, help her more, help her understand. Just because your ego is hurt at the fact that a 16-year-old is going to get paid more than you and you don’t know how to feel because a 16-year-old is better than you doesn’t mean you can take it out on me, and you are blind if you actually were surprised that Barca and Chelsea raised their offers again, she is incredible, will be the player of her generation,’ and then Sam just scoffed and was like ‘whatever you suck up’ and then Tony walked in and got super mad and send us all to different rooms and stuff” Hayley gives you both a brief recount of the day.
“Yeah, you really did miss a lot,”
“Yeah, it seems we did,”
“But wait Steph was protecting me, I thought she was having a go at me? I think I was just so mad at Sam; I kept it going”.
“Yeah no, originally I don’t know if she was having a go or just questioning but after you left, she really did confront Sam and I mean Sam was in the wrong, Steph could’ve just dealt with it in a better way.”
_____
“I think someone is tired, should we head up?” you say, after Harper yawns, looking at Mini for confirmation who nods, you pick harper up and rest her on your hip, she puts her head on your shoulders and her eyes start to droop. Once you arrive to your room you get dressed into your Pjs and so does Harper, you both already have had your showers for the day.
A phone vibrates and look over to mini, “that was you”, so you pick up your phone to see a message from Steph.
Steph: Hey can we talk? I understand if you don’t want too.
You: Hey um yeah but it’s easier if we message, Harper has fallen asleep on top of me.
Steph: Yeah, no that’s fine, I don’t know if I’m allowed to come out of our room anyway and if you even allowed to come in.
You: Oh
Steph: But I just wanted to say sorry for what happened this afternoon, I was out of line, and I just want to apologise, I am really sorry.
You: For what happened when I was there or what you said to Sam?
You: But in all honesty, it’s okay, I was getting defensive at Sam and snapped at you when you didn’t deserve it you were just questioning. But also thank you for stepping up and confronting Sam for me even if it got you in trouble.
Steph: Wait who told you about that?
Steph: But I was just telling her the truth and really, I should’ve stopped her earlier, it shouldn’t have gotten to the point that you had to walk away.
You: It’s okay Steph, I promise I forgive you but maybe not Sam, at least not yet. She was mean to both of us.
Steph: Okay, I will make it up to you I promise.
You: Hmmm, I will think about what I want…..
Steph: I never said I would by you anything, maybe I was just going to be nice, get you out of fitness testing
You: Hey no, that isn’t nice, I looove fitness testing
Steph: Weirdo
You: Hey
You: Love you heaps, good night (well not for you but for me), see you tomorrow, I can’t wait to see you! I have so much to tell you.
You: Shit that was meant for Leah not you
You: But love you anyway, see you in the morning.
Steph: Love you, sorry again, night night
_____
You were standing at the breakfast bar contemplating your morning meal like you were contemplating life when you saw Steph walk in, you immediate walked over to her and hugged her, in which she returned wrapping her arms around you tightly as if to never let go, you could really sense her guilt, you stayed like that for at least a minute and only pulled away because Sam wanted to talk to you.
“Hey, I’m sorry for yesterday, I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m really sorry” she said very awkwardly.
“Okay, thank you.” You say bluntly before walking away.
“What so she is hugging you, but I don’t even get an I forgive you?”
“Well, she doesn’t like lying and I don’t think she does forgive you yet,” Steph said before walking away and following you.
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atopvisenyashill · 5 months
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not to keep harping on but definitely the complaint i see that really sticks in my craw is that the only reason or the main reason robb planned to banish catelyn to seaguard was because of their argument over jon. it’s certainly a factor but they have spent the entire war arguing over every decision robb makes! ned tells robb “keep your mother in your council” but robb really does not! he has her there, yes, he lets her speak, yes, but oftentimes he will disregard her advice without any appeasement, misstep badly, and be worse off politically in the exact way she warned him of. she’s not the only person he blows off - he’s not exactly nice to edmure either, for example - but cat is right when she suspects there’s an element of “kings are not supposed to have mothers” and “wedded to his war" and she clocks this long before the argument over jon! robb tries to get rid of her at the beginning of a clash of kings when all cat has done is urge him to continue peaceful negotiations with the lannisters!
robb is angry because he’s in over his head and he knows it, and it's got very little to do with jon! robb is losing this war and his best friend was the son of a man who crowned himself and lost the war!! robb knows exactly what’s going to happen to the north if he loses and despite everything, he cannot seem to win despite being a near prodigy in battle tactics. and here his mother has been this whole time, fighting him on every front - just like the lords but he cant punish them for disagreeing can he? - and being so frustratingly right about more things than his lords, and now they’re picking at this wound in their family that has never been allowed to heal and a lot of resentment that both robb and catelyn are feeling at their general situation gets focused in on each other. this is such a tully thing too (pls remember these are canonically unpleasant people!) because look at lysa projecting years of resentment onto sansa, look at the entire cat, hoster, edmure situation, or even hoster & blackfish’s relationship. family is so important to them but in times of stress, “doing everything for family” becomes an anchor pulling them down, until the only thing left is to lash out at each other.
most of the lords are happy to let this nonsense play out! catelyn does not even have the privilege maege & dacey mormont do at being head of their own house - she’s just a wife, just a mother, just a first born daughter. when she disagrees, they don’t see an equal arguing with them, they see a woman sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. they do not give a single solitary shit about like, ~the plight of bastards~ they just believe, like robb, that sansa is currently “tainted” by her marriage to a lannister and can’t be allowed to inherit, that arya is dead, that the boys are dead, that jeyne is not yet pregnant, and a bastard boy castle raised who looks like ned is better than no boy at all (see edric storm, addam of hull, and larence snow). these men have not spent the last fourteen years cooking in their resentment over this situation the way catelyn and robb have!
jon is a reason. but so is rickard karstark, jaime lannister, willem lannister, tion frey, renly baratheon, walder frey, and theon greyjoy. ned is a reason as well, and bran, sansa, rickon, arya, hoster, edmure, perhaps even lysa and sweetrobin. jon is the final straw but robb isn’t (only) sending catelyn away because of some righteous fury on his brother’s behalf! he’s sending her away because she is an easy, socially acceptable target for all his frustrations and failures and fears that he can project on, and punish, in a way he cannot punish his enemies, his lords, or himself.
and catelyn is as always very aware of the deeper motivations in her son’s mind, and resentful that she doesn’t have the power to push back; she’s just a mother, after all.
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maxsimagination · 5 months
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𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝘂𝗺 - 𝗸.𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆
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warnings: a kiss or two
----
"hey kat, you seen harps?"
i knocked on katrina's hotel room door, but there was no response so i walked in. i was going to take harper down with me so katrina could get ready, but immediately stopped in my tracks when a saw the scene before me. harper was on the bed, katrina curled around her, both sound asleep.
my heart melted seeing my two favourite people together like that. as much as i wanted to let kat sleep longer, i knew i had to wake her up. coach wanted us down in a half hour for a team meeting about the game.
"kat, you gotta wake up now." i sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her arm, shaking her a bit. she came to after a few moments of me shaking her lightly. kat's groggy face turned to look at who was tearing her from her sleep. "hey sleeping beauty." i grinned down at her. "mm, i jus' need five more minutes."
"we have that meeting soon, you gotta get up, min." everyone in the team called her mini, or min, because of her short stature, but i was an exception. i called her kat, only on occasion did i switch it for mini.
"fuuuuckk." she drawled out. eventually she sat up slowly and got up. the small child next to her had shuffled around and woke up at the slight commotion near her. "hey harps." i ruffled her her a bit and she giggled at me. i picked her up and smoothed down her clothes before katrina walked out of the bathroom, her hair fixed and looking slightly less tired.
"let's head down, yea?"
i only received a light mumble in response, kat's way of agreeing. we knew each other in and out by now, we'd been best friends for years. probably from the first time we met years ago at her then club, brisbane roar, and soon after mine.
i had signed a deal with the club, contracted for 5 years. katrina had already been there for a year or two when i joined, but her contract ran out two years before mine did. she moved from there that year, signing with some other club over in england, leaving me behind.
unbeknownst to me, she did a stint with the club in england but then moved to a sweden club which i would later sign with. it was a big offer from them and a big sign for me, having to move from australia to sweden and play for vittsjö gik. but i quickly decided it was the best decision i'd made in my life when i saw katrina on the training field at my first session. we were inseparable and attached at the hip again, we went everywhere together.
i had, very, quickly caught some sort of feelings towards the older woman when we first met and didn't know how to feel about that fact, choosing to ignore the butterflies that made chaos of my abdomen when i saw her.
i never knew if she had felt the same, and didn't want to ruin what bond we had together so i never said a word. now here we are, at national camp together, about 10 years later. it was a messy situation, especially on my end, but i made the most of it, loving every moment i got to spend with katrina, and her little harper.
"thank you for looking after harps, y/n." she brought me out of my little daydream with her gratitude. "it's all good, kat. i love the kid as much as anyone." harper wriggled around in my arms at my words.
we had made it to the meeting room then, and joined the rest of the team to take a seat.
——
it felt like a whole year had gone by after we left that room. my butt had gone numb from how long i was in that seat for. harper was in my arms again as me and kat walked out and towards the cafeteria. i honestly thought i could eat a horse, my last meal was at breakfast, almost 5 hours ago. i grabbed what i could fit onto my plate and raced over to a table and placed everything on the surface. katrina handed harper off to me while she went to get her's and harps lunch.
we sat in comfortable silence eating our food, me more so devouring. i finished everything on my plate and was finally full. both kat and harper were still eating, and both were laughing at me and my content sighs after eating for two people. "shut up, i was starving." i send a joking look to kat and she laughs some more at me.
"mama. water, please." harper's voice catches us both off guard, and we both just stare at her as she looks at me and makes grabby hands for my water bottle.
"did she..?" i trail off in a silent question to katrina. "yea.. she did." i went white as a sheet, body frozen. i finally found it in me and passed harper my water bottle. the kid latches onto it and drinks some. i was still shocked and hadn't uttered any words other than confirming what we'd both seen with kat.
my brain seemed to malfunction as my mind told me i needed to leave. i grabbed my plate, making some sort of excuse to get out of the room.
i bolted, heading for my own room this time. i flopped down on my bed, mind racing a million miles and hour. harper called me mama! i was elated but also worried at the same time. what if kat didn't want her kid to think of me as her second mum? my nerves and anxiety were called to the forefront and i kept asking myself questions without answers.
it felt like two seconds but there was a knock on my door, and suddenly it opened. i shot upright, and seeing it was kat, flopped back down.
i couldn't even look her in the face as she walked over. "y/n. are you okay?" "umm, yes?" it came out more as a question rather than a statement. "you're not. you were white as a ghost before." a split second of reckless thought sent me over the edge and i blurted. "harper called me mama." i didn't know what i was doing, i just needed to air that statement.
"yea, about that. i'm sorry, i didn't know she saw it like that." "you're.. sorry?" i was confused. did she not want me to be a mum to harper? "yea, i didn't think you wanted things to be like that."
surely she's joking. "kat.." i sat up and took a deep breath.
"katrina, i would love to be a mum to harper. i never told you any of this, and it's been at least 4 years of me bottling up my feelings. i have liked you so much, for the longest time. i have wanted nothing more to hug you as more than friends for the longest time. but i never said anything because i didn't want to ruin our friendship. you're like my best friend. but i want us to be more."
shit. i just ruined it didn't i? i looked up at katrina tentatively, scared to see her expression.
surprisingly, it wasn't one of hate. she almost looked.. relieved? "oh thank god." that was a new one. she sat down next to me so we were eye level again.
"i am so glad you said something, i would have gone another few years without saying anything. i like you so much more than friends, y/n. i can't even begin to explain how thankful i am to have you in my life, to help me with harper, or to just be with me when i need a shoulder to cry on."
what she says catches me off guard, i fully expected her to shun me and tell me she wasn't interested.
"wait.. really?" she nods with a smile. "yes really. you mean so much to me-" i cut her off by pressing my lips to hers. she freezes up but just as quickly, kisses me back. her lips are soft, sweet, they taste like caramel. i had my hands on either side of her face. she moves hers down to wrap around my waist. everything around us stops moving as we continue in our own little world. finally we break apart to take a breath.
"katrina-lee gorry, do you wanna be my girlfriend?"
"always, y/n y/l/n."
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year
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comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter five: called you again
summary: you and carmy try your best to repair the relationship... but it only leads to distance. you both make the mistake thinkin' the other is better of without you. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)
warnings: angst, death, grief, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language
word count: 3.5k
listen to: supercut - lorde | speechless - lady gaga | call me back - young the giant | called you again - lizzy mcalpine
a/n: while i felt like i was dropping an emotional bomb on you with the last chapter, i didn't know it would have such an emotional impact. i just wanted to share that i write so much from my own experiences -- perhaps why some of the chapters feel so realistic. anyways, thank you for all of your kind words in regards to the last chapter. i didn't want to write the phone call, since after this part, 'make my heart surrender' begins / i write a bit of it in that story / it really made for a spicy dramatic ending.
on another note: it's me, hi! i broke my own heart writing this. high key like... i feel like i'm going through a breakup right now (i'm not). the next part will be a big time jump: it takes place after right after 'make my heart surrender' ends, where reader has just moved to chicago for carmy so you'll be glad to hear that i'm done hurting you and myself.
read: chapter four
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April 2022 
“Seriously, Carmy. I can’t thank you enough. You really saved the day,” Maya harps, reminding Carmy for the 100th time today that he single-handedly saved Passover. 
“It’s nothin’ really,'' Carmy mumbles with a shrug. “I’m uh… gonna finish cleaning up in the kitchen. Shouldn’t take long.”
“Sure I can’t help?” Maya asks, giving him one last chance to say ‘yes.’
“No, it’s all good. I got a whole system,” he explains, a reassuring look in his eyes. 
“Of course,” Maya replies, bowing out of the conversation. 
She walks through her home towards the open double terrace doors that lead out onto the patio. You’re outside, shifted to one side of the large outdoor dining table, your focus unbroken as you stack empty plates, one on top of the other.
“Hey,” you say to her, a warm nostalgia about the way the spring air kisses your bare shoulders. 
“So… Carmy really came through,” she starts, watching you for your reaction. 
“Yeah, he did,” you reply simply, as if it’s just fact.
Maya half expects for you to say more, but she knows it’s been weird between the two of you since you slept together. She’s not sure why, but she’s always rooted for Carmy. Perhaps because you light up every time he’s around – every time you talk about him. Perhaps because she sees the way he looks at you, especially when he thinks you’re not looking. Because, even though he’s deeply imperfect, you’re good for him – and he, you. 
“It’s all for you, you know,” she says, growing bolder in her reminder. 
Her words stop you in your tracks. You stop working on the pile of dishes you’re creating, taking a moment to look up at your friend. 
“Why do you think that?” you ask quietly. 
“Because he took the night off to be here,” she answers, checking to make sure Carmy isn’t listening. “I mean, when have any of us seen him take any time off? He’s not doing it for me. I just think… it seems like he’s really making an effort to mend things.”
You nod slowly, processing what she’s just said. Carmy, in an effort to try to mend things, had joined you for a drink with some of your mutual friends from the restaurant. As Maya had lamented about the caterer falling through for her Passover dinner, he’d more than eagerly offered to step in, surprising all of you. 
“Maybe,” you shrug, trying not to get your hopes up. “I don’t know. It’s still not the way it used to be.”
“Well of course it’s not!” Maya exclaims with a laugh. She sighs out your name, shaking her head as she continues. “You guys are… of course that would change things.”
“I think it’s just going to take a while…” you explain, your voice soft. “I uh. I should take these in.”
You collect your pile of dishes, heading back inside into the kitchen. You know you’re avoiding having the conversation with Maya, but the distance between you and Carmy has been so tough on you. It wasn’t until you took some space from him that you realized just how big of a part he’d been playing in your life. And now, he was grieving, and you’d both crossed the line that had complicated things. 
It all just felt… messy. 
As you enter the kitchen, you see Carmy standing there. He’s staged the kitchen for the most efficient dishwashing: one half of the sink is filled with to sanitize, the other to rinse, before loading up the dishwasher. You place the first stack of plates down on the kitchen island, making a sound that doesn’t even seem to grab Carmy’s attention. He doesn’t turn to you, doesn’t acknowledge the sound, so you decide to keep moving things in from outside instead. 
You’ve managed to get all of the dirty dishes from the terrace into the kitchen, Carmy giving you a nod as he’d instructed you to place them down on the counter for him. 
You put your focus on packing up leftovers in deli containers and making sure all the food that needed to be has been put away. Carmy’s loaded up the dishwasher but he’s got at least a dozen wine glasses that he knows need to be hand washed. You notice that he’s taking a break, pushing yourself to ask him, as if it’s going to be your only chance to.
“How are you?” you say, instantly regretting it as the words come out of your mouth. 
He shrugs, unsure of how to answer the question, leaning up against the kitchen counter. You think it’s the only answer you’re going to get as he crosses his arms across his chest. You continue packing up the equipment that you and Carmy have brought over, while he manages to steal a few glances when he thinks you’re not looking. 
He’s not sure what to say. 
Hell, he doesn’t even know how he feels about it. 
But something inside him is begging him to tell you – as if telling you will give him some kind of resolution. Like he’ll know what to do. Like telling you will bring him the comfort he’s so desperately been craving. 
He opens his mouth to say something, noticing that you’ve kept yourself busy – almost as if you’re trying to stay out of his way. 
He hates this. 
He hates that you feel you have to tiptoe around him. 
“Mikey left me the restaurant,” he confesses, the words tumbling out of his mouth like five hundred pounds of bricks. 
“Oh wow,” you gasp, taking in what he’s said. 
He nods, pausing before he speaks again. And it’s the first time he’s said it out loud to anyone:
“I think it’s time for me to go home.”
You don’t say anything back, because you’re not sure what to say back. You know he hadn’t gone home for the funeral, despite your insistence.
Why now? What did this mean? What would this mean? And when did he find out about the restaurant? You can’t help but feel like everything's falling apart, like this is the end. While you know he has to go home – you’re honestly surprised it’s taken him so long to come to this conclusion – it’s impossible not to feel your heart shattering into pieces. 
Carmy was going to leave. You were going to stay. And you didn’t know where that left the two of you. 
“Can I help – with the wine glasses?” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. 
Focusing on the glasses may be the only thing that keeps you from crying. 
“Yeah,” he nods, and you know it’s his way of trying to connect. 
You work quietly, the only sounds in the background are the dinner party playlist that’s playing on a loop through the home’s speakers. You wash and Carmy dries, knocking out the remaining dishes that need to be hand washed, before packing up to go. Maya, of course, thanks Carmy again and again, while her partner, Patrick, compliments the meal, letting Carmy know he’s got to get some cooking tips from him. 
As the two of you walk out of the door, brown paper bags loaded up with empty delis and equipment that you brought over to the house, Carmy stops before either of you can go your separate ways. 
“Can I walk you home?” Carmy asks you, a hopeful look in his eyes. 
You nod, “Yeah.”
May 
Hope you’re doing okay. How’s home?
It’s about the third text you’ve sent to Carmy since he left New York. After letting you know he’d made it safely, you hadn’t heard from him at all. Sure it’s only been a couple of weeks, but it’s like as soon as he let you know he’d made it safe, he’d cut you off cold. To say that you’re angry would be an understatement. 
You’re really fucking pissed off. 
And you also know that underneath all that anger, is a fuck ton of hurt that you’d really rather not acknowledge – that you’re not ready to feel yet.
You don’t know how he’s able to turn it off – just pretend that the last two and half years haven’t been significant. That you haven’t practically been attached at the hip since the lockdown. That you’re not best friends who also just so happen to maybe be in love with each other. 
Somehow, Liz has coaxed you out after a long night at the restaurant for a round of drinks with your coworkers. Something about a need to blow off some steam. Only a round has turned into many, and you just might have had one too many to forget about the searing pain you feel when you think about the fact that you may never hear from Carmy again. You’re waiting for your next drink at the bar, making a mental note that this has to be your last. 
“How’s Berzatto these days?” you hear a voice ask, turning your head as you realize someone’s joined you at the bar. 
“Uh.. yeah, I think he’s been really busy. You know… with the family restaurant. Getting adjusted, you know?” you lie to Nate, pretending that you’ve been in contact with him. 
Nothing would sting more than to admit to Nate fucking Walker that Carmy’s ghosted you. 
Nate laughs cooly, with a shake of his head. 
“He hasn’t called you, has he?” he asks. 
You don’t answer. But your silence is the only answer Nate needs to confirm his suspicions. 
“Listen, can we just talk about something else?” you dismiss him, watching as the bartender returns with your drink. 
The rest of your friends have started a game of pool, but you’re not in the mood for it tonight. Nate asks you to sit, so you do. You hate to admit it, but the attention feels nice, especially with how much you miss Carmy. It burns in your chest tonight, leaving you breathless. You’d rather be numb than feel this much pain. 
You’re not sure how the conversation turns back to Carmy after an hour or so of conversation with Nate. Even though you said you didn’t want to talk about him. Even though you can see that Nate’s tired of hearing about him. You can’t help yourself when it comes to Carmy. Every little thing reminds you of him, and he just keeps coming up like word vomit. 
“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk about him,” Nate reminds you. 
You shake your head, “I don’t!” 
Nate shoots you a look, before shaking his head, making sure to polish off the last of his drink. 
“He’s an idiot,” Nate scoffs with an eye roll. 
“Don’t say that,” you relent. 
“I mean it. He’s a fuckin’ idiot!” he exclaims again, turning much more serious. 
“Nate!” you protest lightly. 
“I mean it,” he repeats himself, holding piercing eye contact with you. 
Nate waits a beat, his eyes flickering from your lips back to your eyes as he leans in, lowering his voice. 
“He couldn’t even see a good thing when had it,” he croons, leaning in towards you. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that you just want to feel wanted, but you feel woozy – hazy, you’re head spinning with lust as you contemplate kissing him. 
“Not even when it was right in front of him,” he adds, his lips so very close to yours. 
Nate’s always been good looking. Your eyes flicker to his full lips and deep brown eyes as he towers over you from where he sits, knowing that he wants to kiss you. He’s just the kind of guy that knows he’s good looking – something you find terribly annoying. 
“You’re so beautiful. I’m sorry that he can’t see it,” he practically whispers against your lips, so close that all the blood rushes to your head. 
It just feels good to be wanted, to be seen. So you surge forward, closing the gap between you. As you press your lips against his, you can feel Nate smiling into the kiss. He’s a smug bastard, but tonight, you don’t care. You entertain the kiss for a little longer. At this point, you could care less that you’ve garnered the attention of some of your coworkers, that you’re just making out with Nate fucking Walker out in the open for everyone to see. 
“You wanna go somewhere else? My place is around the corner,” he murmurs into the kiss.
“Sure,” you agree, you breath catching in your throat. 
“C’mon,” he encourages you, with a nod towards the door. 
Revenge, or the last of your gin cocktail, burns in your throat as you make a deal with the devil, following Nate out of the bar. 
June
Carmy’s phone buzzes again, catching his attention as he takes another drag from his cigarette. He’s got one missed call from Sugar, a voicemail, and a text with a link to that meeting she won’t stop nagging him to go to. He’s just about to put his phone back in his pocket as it buzzes again. 
He looks down. 
Shit. 
Fuck.
It’s a text from you. 
His heart stops beating for a moment, just for a second, and he freezes. 
Came across this article in the New Yorker about denim & rock n roll. Made me think of you. 
Carmy’s eyes scan over the title: From the Working Class to a Fashion Statement: John Lennon, Elvis Presley, & Other Icons That Brought Denim to the Mainstream. There’s a lump in his throat. He’s been so focused on the restaurant, so focused on fixing it, that it’s been easy to compartmentalize, push any thought of you out of his mind. But as his thumb hovers over the article, daring to open it, he can picture it all so vividly. His head is filled with the image of you walking down Bowery, a few paces in front of him, clad in your favorite denim jacket of his as you tell him to ‘hurry up.’ 
And just for a moment, it feels so real. He can practically smell the New York City air. He can hear your laugh as you bump into him in the small walkways of each mom-and-pop dumpling shop. He can almost feel your skin brush against his as you scoot by him on the way to your table.
It becomes harder to push the thoughts of you out of his mind, the sobering reality that it’s been at least a month and a half since he’s talked to you. 
She’s better off without me. Without this. Without all of this chaos, he thinks to himself. 
He hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t been in touch on purpose, and he had to admit, it was killing him. There were days where all he wanted to do was call you, ask how you were doing – days where the only thing that would bring him comfort was imagining you running your fingers through his hair while he bitched about the restaurant. Days where he wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with you while you forced him to watch some violent action movie, and he’d watch you in awe. He’d call you a psychopath, when in reality, he was just in shock that someone like you could want to be around someone like him. 
Carmy wonders if you miss him – if it’s killing you too. 
But he doubts it. 
You’re a fucking mess, he thinks to himself, coming to conclusion that you’re better off without him. Without all of this… mess… grief… chaos. 
What would he even say?
Sorry I'm such a prick.
I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here.
I love you.
It becomes progressively easier to push his thoughts of you out of his mind, as he hyper-fixates on what needs to be done today: outsource bread, read over Sydney’s report because she’s probably right about the budget…. And what the fuck is KBL electric anyways? 
Now that the impulse is gone to text you back, Carmy shoves his phone into his pocket, shaking his head as he finishes his cigarette and reminds himself again:
You’re better off without him.
August 
“I don’t understand,” the exec chef says to you, his voice monotone. Something wild stirring behind his eyes in response to the notice that you’ve just given him. 
“My heart’s not in it,” you explain, hesitantly. “And I know you accept nothing less than perfection. I just… need some time to figure things out.”
“You’re not going to find another job like this,” he reminds you, coldly. 
You nod your head in response. You thought he’d say that. 
“I understand, chef,” you reply, using your tone of professionalism in your voice as a barrier. 
“I told her we could reevaluate in a month. I’m open to a rehire, should after your sabbatical, you come to the conclusion that here is where you need to be,” the head pastry chef adds. 
Sabbatical. 
Your head pastry chef is the only one using that word, as if they expect that you’ll come back. As if this is just a break. 
But it’s not a break to you. It’s a much needed change. 
Your exec chef thinks it over, his lips pressed together in a thin line. 
“You’re an exceptional pastry chef, but your lack of commitment worries me,” he states plainly. “You’ll have to interview again.”
“I understand, chef,” you repeat yourself. 
The conversation goes like this: you keep your cool, wanting nothing more than to get the conversation over it. It’s a daunting thing – quitting your dream job – enough as it is. Your head pastry chef fights for you, while the exec chef continues on his ego trip, as if you’re not sitting right in front of him. It’s not hard to tune him out. There’s a feeling inside of you, something telling you that you won’t be back, so the hoops he’s creating for you to jump through don’t seem to matter. 
Your feet hit the pavement as soon as the conversation is over, and you can’t get out of the restaurant fast enough. Dinner service prep had already begun, and as you’d left, you understood there would be questions, rumors, strange looks from your coworkers. But you knew this was right. 
Your heart hadn’t been in it for a while. 
Not since it left and moved to Chicago and decided not to call you back. 
You feel lost. 
It’s not just Carmy. It’s not just the big changes and shifts you’re experiencing. It’s everything. You don’t know what the hell it is you want. And you’re brave enough to go searching for it. 
You want nothing more than to call Carmy, to send him a text, for him to yell at you for quitting the job you both held in such high regard and tell you that you’re making a mistake. But the sting of the last time he ignored your call a few weeks ago stops you from picking up the phone.
Maybe he was only meant to be in your life for that chapter. 
Maybe, as you leave the restaurant behind, you’ll be able to let go of him too. 
Soon-To-Be Fall 
It had only been a few weeks since you’d quit the restaurant, in those few weeks, for the first time in a long time, you were at peace. You’d gotten loads of calls and texts: a ‘just want to check in’ from your head pastry chef, a ‘you doin’ okay?’ from Tim, and a series of ‘can’t take no for an answer’ texts from Nate that you have no plans to answer. 
The past few weeks have been filled with quiet. You’re enjoying your time, and you’re doing a whole lot of thinking about what it is you really want. You spend your Tuesday afternoon deep cleaning your apartment and listening to some of your comfort albums. It feels good to get to live slowly for once. It’s soon-to-be-Fall, even if the heat seems to be sticking around in New York City as of late. 
You hear a ping coming from your phone as you close up the container filled with sanitizing wipes that you’ve been using. Making your way over to your small studio kitchen, you see a text from Liz. 
Liz: I have the day off. Drinks & catching up?
You: Yeah. 7 pm?
Liz: Perf. I have restaurant goss. 👀
You chuckle in response to her text. Just as you’re preparing to type out a response, your phone buzzes again as a call comes through. 
‘Carmy.’ 
Carmy is calling you. 
Holy fuck.
It’s as if all the blood in your body rushes to your head and you have to try not to drop your phone. As it continues to ring, for a split second, you think about not answering. What if you didn’t? Send him to voicemail just like he’s done to you? But your curiosity gets the best of you as your thumb hovers over the ‘answer’ button. Had he heard? Was that what this was about? 
You answer the call before you can talk yourself out of it, immediately putting it on speaker. 
“Hi,” you say, your voice shaking a little. 
And it’s as if all your troubles melt away as you hear his voice.
“Hi,” he replies.
a/n: hello! yes, by popular demand i'll be writing the phone call as a drabble. however, my first series i wrote about carmy, 'make my heart surrender' picks up right where this chapter leaves off. chapter six will take places after that story, so for those of you that have not, feel free to read it while we wait (w baited breath of course) for the final chapter of this one.
read: chapter six
taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos @blue-weekends @rexorangecouny @ridingthehotmessexpress @the-nursery @strawberryalicia @astronautelilanded @veryplatoniccircunstances @fonteyn
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brairslair · 7 months
Note
Hey!! I loved your Peter Parker fic!!
I hope you're taking requests, if yes can you please write harry potter x ravenclaw!reader? Where reader is a muggleborn and loves muggle music, she does this thing where she gives all her friends a song which reminds her of them, even multiple to Hermione (who secretly loves it and listens to those on loop) and ron( who tries to act like he doesn't care but secretly feels loved) but she's never given harry a song, despite him being her best friend. But after one of DA meetings they are alone and harry asks her why doesn't she give him a song (fallin' all in you- Shawn Mendez) and she plays it for him a and that it reminds her of him, AND THEY KISS!!
I'm really sorry if it's too specific, please feel free to change anything! THANK YOU SM!! I LOVE YOUR FICS!!❤️❤️✨
definitely not too specific! i love that you gave me so much to work with, so ty anon! i did switch it up a little bit, but i hope it turned out to your liking!
318 Hours 43 Minutes ˗ˏˋ H.J.P ´ˎ˗
“Be my summer in a winter day, love”
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harry potter x ravenclaw!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.3k
REQUESTED: yes requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream
WARNINGS: fem reader, not proofread, fluff fluff fluff, muggleborn!reader, reader is described as somewhat of a musical prodigy, modern music, mobile phones, and spotify all exist in this timeline, 7th year, kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lover ig, joking mentions of death, lmk if i missed smth!
A/N: i'm sure there are tons of grammatical errors in here but lets pretend we don't see them!
ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!
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If there was one thing you couldn't live without, it would be music. It was almost impossible to recall a time you had left your dorms without your headphones. Music had just always been a huge part of your life. Growing up, your parents got you into piano lessons, and you were playing Beethoven by the end of the first month. After that, you picked up as many instruments as you could afford, starting with violin, then guitar, the flute, and now the harp. Your parents had to soundproof the house.
Once you got your acceptance into Hogwarts as a witch, your whole world turned upside down. You were sorted into Ravenclaw, which felt very fitting, and were assigned a dormmate, Padme Patil. The two of you clicked immediately and became instant friends. After a few months of hanging out with the Patil sisters, you were introduced to three Gryffindor students in your year; Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. Instantly, you felt some sort of a connection pulling you to them, but you couldn't put your finger on it.
You started hanging out with "The Golden Trio", as you affectionately called them, all the time, and the four of you eventually became a quartet. You had grown especially close with Harry, and the two of you did almost everything together. Well, everything except study.
After one particular study date with Hermione, you were thrilled to learn that she shared the same love for muggle music as you did. The two of you rambled on and on about your favorites, uncharacteristically losing track of your studies.
"The song Rises the Moon reminds me a lot of you!" You mindlessly exclaimed, watching as Hermione's eyes lit up.
The rest was history. You were known to associate songs with the people around you, and you had no shame in telling them. You had given Hermione, Ron, and the Patil sisters a countless number of songs over the years. In fact, you had given them so many, that a few had made playlists to keep track of all of them. Ron was the most hesitant to accept the recommendations, but Hermione told you she had caught him singing along to them in the common room on multiple occasions.
Every once in a while, you would even see another student studying in the library, maybe one you had only said 'Hello' to in passing, and a song would just scream out to you so loudly that you had to leave them a note about it as you left.
It was like your own personal love language, and you loved being able to make people smile, even if they never listened to the song.
The one person close to you whom you had never given a song to, was the infamous Harry Potter, and it was painfully hard for him to ignore. After almost seven years of being best friends, you would think he would have been worthy of at least one song, right?
He watched as you expertly conjured up the Draught of Peace potion the class was supposed to be working on, smacking Ron's hand away when he goes to touch it. Watching you was the only thing that made this class somewhat bearable.
He can't get it out of his head... the fact that you've never given him a song. He's been thinking about it non-stop since you gave that Hufflepuff boy a song in the dining hall a few days ago.
It wasn't news to him that he had been in love with you since 5th year, probably longer than that before he had even realized, but he would sooner die than admit it out loud.
You were the most important person in the world to him, but he was almost positive you didn't feel the same way. He would never be able to forgive himself if he ruined your friendship. So, he just kept his big mouth shut and pretended like there was nothing there.
He thought he was really good at faking it too. He wasn't.
Anyone with eyes could see the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way his smile looked ten times brighter when you were around. It was blatantly obvious he had it bad for you.
What wasn't as obvious was that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you. You may have been much better at hiding it, but anyone close to you could see it clear as day. I mean, it was silly really. The way you were both so stupidly in love and too scared to see it.
Harry snapped to attention as Professor Snape called on him, spitting out to 'straighten his spine and get back to work'. He grumbled something under his breath before following instructions. When he looked back at you, he found your eyes already on him, giggling at the scene he had caused before returning to your schoolwork. He loved hearing your laugh.
As the class ended, Harry gathered his things into his bookbag, slinging it over his shoulder as he straightened his robes. Snape was the first to leave the classroom, followed by a small swarm of students who were anxious to get back to the common rooms for some much-needed free time. Harry looked over to where you and Ron had been sitting, watching you pull out a scrap of parchment with messy little scribbles on it, before sliding it over to the red head.
"I found a new song the other night, and it reminded me so much of you, I just had to write it down before I forgot the title." You smiled, watching Ron look over the writing, thanking you awkwardly as he shoved it into his pocket.
Harry suddenly felt his pockets get lighter.
"I'll be in the library with Hermione tonight. Wants to tutor me for Transfiguration." He said in an annoyed tone, though you knew he was secretly looking forward to it. "You wanna come? Could use all the help I can get."
Harry secretly hoped you would say no.
You packed up all your belongings, making sure not to forget any of your notes, "Yeah, sure! Just have to do a few things first, but I can stop by in a bit." You smiled, the way you always do, as you shoved folders into your bag.
"Alright," Ron nodded, "I'll see you." He said as you waved each other goodbye, Ron heading for the exit. "Oh hey, Harry." He threw out casually as he left the room, calling attention to the boy in the back of the otherwise empty classroom.
You quickly turned around, smiling brightly when you saw him still sitting awkwardly in his seat. "Oh hey, Harry!" You repeated, "You're still here?"
Harry regained common sense then, now realizing he had been staring at you for the past hour, he stood from his seat and walked over to you. "Yeah..." He trailed off dumbly, still in his own thoughts. He head got cloudy as your perfume surrounded him.
He had debated on bringing it up for the past few months, but was to scared of your response. Honestly at this point, he could barely focus on anything BUT asking you about it. He figured that at this point it would be better to just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid.
"Hey, uh... Could I ask you something?" His voice cracked.
"Yeah, of course!" You finally slung the bag over your shoulder, giving Harry your full attention. "Ask away."
Your voice sounded sickly sweet, and it somehow made him more nervous. "Alright... Well, uh, I was just wondering-" He felt far too vulnerable to look into your eyes, so instead he looked at your shoulder. He had to clear his throat, "I was wondering why you've never given me a song?" He slurred out, trying to act casual about it while his heart was beating at top speeds.
Your smile immediately dropped, and Harry's stomach fell into his shoes at the sight. Now it was your turn to avoid eye contact, looking down at your feet and chewing on your cheek as you debated a response.
Harry felt like he was about to pass out. His hands grew clammy, and he could hear his heart hammering in his ears. The only times he had ever seen you not smiling were when something really terribly tragic had happened, or when your friends were upset themselves. This had to be a bad sign, right?"
Meanwhile, a million thoughts swirled through your head. You had hoped he hadn't noticed the exclusion, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he brought it up. You felt sick to your stomach. How could you lie your way out of this one? You hated lying, especially to Harry, and you didn't want to hurt him. Could you really risk telling him the truth? What if he freaks out and goes running for the hills and all your years of friendship are ruined?
"You know what, it doesn't matter." Harry brushed off weakly, starting to back away from you, "I don't need to know! It's no big deal, just forget I even said anything-"
"Harry, wait-" you instinctually grabbed his hand, making him freeze. You let go to reach into your bag, Harry cautiously getting closer. His confusion increased when you pulled your phone out, rapidly typing on it to pull something up. When you finally found it, you took a deep breath. Once he saw what you were about to show him, there would be no turning back. Finally, you made yourself turn the phone around so Harry could see the screen.
It was a private playlist titled "For Harold", and the cover photo was a picture that Hermione took of the two of you after a snowball fight last Christmas break. Falling all over each other in laughter, completely covered in snow.
You handed the phone to him, limbs shaking too much to hold it steady. He looked below the title to see the timestamp read 318h 43m.
You felt like your stomach was being tied in knots.
"This is why I've never given you a song." You admitted quietly. His expression was hard to read. Brows furrowed and mouth slightly open in shock. "I just... There were too many that reminded me of you."
Harry still hadn't looked at you or said a word, and you started to feel like you'd bounce right off the floor with how much you were vibrating.
Then he stopped scrolling, staring at the title of one particular song much too long for your liking. Even worse, he pressed play. As soon as the song started, you shrunk down into the desk behind you.
Sunrise, with you on my chest No blinds in the place where I live Daybreak, open your eyes Cause this was only ever meant to be for one night We're changing our minds here Be yours, be mine, dear
You busied yourself by playing with your fingers, looking absolutely anywhere but at Harry.
So close with you on my lips Touch noses, feeling your breath Push your heart and pull away, yeah Be my summer in a winter day, love
You started to feel incredibly antsy, regretting ever showing him the playlist. "We really don't have to listen to the whole thing-"
I can't see one thing wrong Between the both of us Be mine, be mine, yeah Anytime, anytime
You squeezed your eyes shut to try and save yourself from some embarrassment, but when you opened them, you found Harry looking at you with the biggest smile you'd ever seen in your life. Your belly flipped.
You are bringing out a different kind of me There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free Fallin' all in you Fell for men who weren't how they appear, yeah Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free Fallin' all in you
Harry was beaming, putting the phone down on the desk beside him. He slowly made his way closer to you, and no matter how badly you wanted to look away from him, you couldn't.
He was now so close to you that you could feel his breath fan across your lips, and the song faded in the background as your heart pounded. "Is this how you really feel? About me?" He asked as his cheeks turned pink, and you couldn't help but find the silly question endearing.
You nodded your head, deciding that your voice would give out if you tried to speak right now. The eye contact was almost unbearable, and you broke it with a quick glance down to his lips.
The second you did, his lips were immediately on yours, pressing hard into you. You gasped against his lips in shock. You felt like your whole body was on fire.
He pulled away too soon, mumbling a boyish "Sorry about that-", before you chased his lips and pulled them back down to yours, muffling the rest of his apology. This time it lasted.
Your lips felt like they were home against his, moving slow and sweet, like you had all the time in the world. You sighed happily into the kiss, pouring the years of pent-up feelings out for each other. His lips tasted like pumpkin, and butterbeer, and the sweet vanilla chapstick you gave him. It made you giggle a little against his lips.
You melted as he mindlessly cornered you against the desk, his hands gently holding your face like you were made of glass. You wrapped your arms around his neck to ground yourself. His lips curled up into a smile against yours, and you involuntarily matched the expression. It all felt so... right. Like all of the pieces were finally falling into place.
Unfortunately, you both need oxygen, so you were forced to pull away. He rested his forehead against yours, as you share the air between you. You pulled him impossibly closer, nudging his nose with yours, both knowing you felt just as lovesick for each other.
Then your phone dinged. Harry looked down at the message from Ron, reading "Hey, you still coming tonight?"
He picked it up to respond, "Can't, sorry!" before flipping it over carelessly, both of you giggling as he pulled you back for another kiss.
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i had so much fun writing thissss ugh this was such a sweet prompt. tysm anon!
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nerdalmighty · 3 months
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hey! so, i just recently started playing baldur's gate 3 after seeing people put it all over my dash for months--and you're one of the people i've seen reblogging a lot of posts about it LOL. so if you don't mind me asking, i was wondering what kind of character do you/did you play as? and do you have any sort of backstory for your tav that you'd like to share?
Hoooooooooooooh my god thank you so much for asking. I have a friend who comes over to watch me play on Thursdays and I make a powerpoint every week to catch her up on what she missed - this week's powerpoint literally has slides about my Tav's background (more on those later). This is about to be long, I'm about to drop ALL my lore so buckle up! AND THANK YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH MY BG3 BRAIN WORMS!!!!! I'm glad they convinced you to play 😈
So to begin, I've been in my first ever dnd campaign with a group of friends for a little over a year now. I didn't know much about Baldur's Gate except that it was a dnd video game and that you could romance people. Me, being a Big Fan of Romance And Fantasy was like "okay well I'm in" and my friend actually let me start a game at his house. Through that, I met Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion.
Backing up a bit to my character; I decided I'd put my character from my irl dnd campaign into the game since I already knew her whole deal. I get pretty overwhelmed with making decisions, ESPECIALLY with big open world games like bg3, so knowing who/what I wanted to be really helped me out.
In the campaign I'm in with friends, it's pirate themed, and I play a half-elf bard named Birdie Harp who's secretly half-siren (murder mermaid). To make a long story very short, she was born in the arctic and escaped her murderous pod during a coming-of-age trial where she also lost her siren abilities (hypnotizing voice, breathing underwater, etc).
I've watched a ton of Dimension 20 which is an actual play show on Dropout.tv (an "actual play" is where you watch other people run a campaign of dnd - like Critical Role, which a lot of people have at least heard of - HIGHLY recommend Dimension 20, as I find it incredibly funny and easier to get into than CR because of the episode lengths), and I knew that I really liked the silliness and theatricality of the bard class. I also loved the bards from The Owl House which helped influence my decision as well.
To be honest, Birdie is my first ever dnd character, so she's basically a self insert but with a MUCH more traumatic backstory than me (this IS dnd after all). As for the half-elf aspect, it was more of an "I want to be half mermaid, what's similar to that?" as opposed to a love for half-elves or something.
BACK TO BALDUR'S GATE - knowing I wanted Birdie to be in the game, I felt a lot less overwhelmed to come up with something entirely new - I knew a lot about the bard class having played one so I wanted to CONTINUE playing one (and I've learned even more since playing bg3!).
When I finally got my own game (I no longer play at my friend's house, but in the comfort of my own home), I recreated Birdie and started on my journey in earnest. I'm VERY MUCH someone who likes to be in control and know what to expect, so I've had guides and walkthroughs to help me the whole time - SUE ME! When it came to first meeting Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion back at my friend's house, Gale actually immediately stole my heart - a kind, witty wizard who likes books and cats? Literally say less. I went home from that session with my friend fully thinking I'd be a Gale girlie until I really looked into the other options and saw The Vampire.
Blah blah blah, he's hot and funny, but he can also be incredibly soft, which really won me over in the end. So I've been romancing That Guy.
Through Acts 1 and 2, I wasn't all too sure about this version of Birdie's background - sure she COULD still be that half-siren from the arctic, but the game kept suggesting she was FROM Baldur's Gate. I LOVED the inclusion of the harpies in Act 1 and thought maybe that was a viable entry point for her backstory, but so far, she was kind of just... me? She was making the choices I wanted to make (and a few that I knew Astarion would like lmao), but she wasn't really her own entity apart from me except for her name. She also felt vastly different from that character I'd created for my friends over a year ago. For instance, my irl Birdie currently has a crush on a Gale-type character, but this Birdie is ass deep in Astarion (hey, sorry I said "ass deep in Astarion"). The thing I love about Baldur's Gate 3 is how you can really come up with your own backstories, since the in-game one for your Tav is so vague. It's totally fine to ignore tiny details in the game and mold them to your own headcanons for your Tav, but I was so unsure of what I wanted for this Birdie that I kind of internalized that she was from Baldur's Gate.
HEADS UP! The following has some spoilers for Act 3 and some side quests, so STOP reading if that's something you'd care to avoid (the last 3 paragraphs of this post are SAFE from spoilers):
When Act 3 finally rolled around (which is where I am currently, I only have the one playthrough so far because I become INCREDIBLY attached to things), I stumbled across the Water Queen's House in Baldur's Gate. Ah ha! Now this felt promising.
A temple dedicated to the Vengeful Sea Goddess, Umberlee, and her loyal Wave Servants to serve her. It's ocean themed, it has mermaid undertones, and their goddess is basically evil. Seems like the perfect place to FINALLY insert this version of Birdie. I wasn't 100% sure until I completed the Iron Throne mission and was faced with either handing a (mostly) innocent man over to the Wave Servants, or fighting to defend him.
Here are a few of the slides from this week's powerpoint that I mentioned all the way back at the start, starting with SOME background on the Wave Servants:
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Ass and Shart are what I affectionately call Astarion and Shadowheart (Also I got this beautiful "Birdie" art on Pinterest which originated from someone named Dantrelium on Reddit):
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Apologies for the small text here, but there are some more details about THIS Birdie here, which I literally made up/figured out earlier this week:
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Essentially, this Birdie was born at the Water Queen's House as Kittiwake Crest - Kittiwakes are common arctic birds, which I thought would be a nice little homage to the original character she was based off of. She was raised by the collective of Wave Servants there, the main one being Flood Tide Allandra Grey who seems to be head honcho at the Wave Mother's House (in this reality, she is).
Since Umberlee is such a vengeful goddess, I imagine she asked her Wave Servants to commit unspeakable acts in her name, mainly drownings, which THEY see as merciful, but I think Birdie always saw as horrifying. Who were they to decide the fates of others? I also think that the Wave Servants themselves were abusive during her upbringing to keep her in line (but much like how Nocturne was a light in the darkness for Shadowheart, I don't think EVERY Wave Servant was evil). GOTTA have a classic tragic backstory.
Upon researching Umberlee, I learned that most of her servants are clerics, so in my mind, that means Birdie was raised to eventually become one, with her official title eventually going to be "Seawind Kittiwake Crest." Is she still half-siren/mermaid though? Not entirely sure. This IS a magical world though, so I'd be inclined to say yes, probably.
But when we first meet the Wave Servants, they're singing beautifully for their drowned sister, Holli. I think Birdie REALLY loved music and singing with her sisters and secretly trained herself in bard magic when she should have been learning to be a cleric. It's also a classic trait of bards to hide their pain through humor, so I often imagine the type of stupid things Birdie gets up to to bring herself joy (my favorite headcanon being when you meet Skittle the Rat in Wyrm's Rock prison - he's a rat merchant who speaks exclusively in puns. I think Birdie and Gale would excitedly throw puns back and forth with Skittle while Astarion and Shadowheart begrudgingly (and affectionately) roll their eyes in the background).
Another thing I love about the game is how you can string together your own ideas of how companions react to things between big cut scenes. For example, in my head, in my game, Astarion has really become a Big Softy thanks to how fucking Stupid (affectionate) Birdie acts in life and has drawn him out of his shell, but also runs a tag team scam with her where she plays her lute to distract people while he loots an entire place. Gale is Birdie's partner in crime when it comes to tomfoolery and loves to joke and fool around with her (so long as it goes easy on his knees). And Shadowheart is basically a sister figure who flip flops between sassing with Astarion and joining in on the fun. THEY'RE JUST THE BEST, OKAY? OF COURSE I'M GONNA WALK AROUND WITH A BUNCH OF IDIOTS. I LOVE THEM.
Anyway, back to Birdie's backstory: she always hated the atrocities that were asked of her, and she was looking for a way out, but was too scared to take that step and leave since the Wave Mother's House is all she's ever known. One night, while stepping out to quietly dip her toes in the water, the Mindflayers captured her, and that's where we start Act One, all the way up on the Nautiloid. She changed her name to Birdie to distance herself from her previous life, fully took up the bard class, and the rest is history.
Back to that dilemma with handing over that (mostly) innocent guy or fighting the Wave Servants: with encouragement from the party, they convince Birdie to face her traumatic upbringing and fight the Wave Servants once and for all. At this point in Act 3, she's basically helped every single person with their problems except her own. Here's another slide featuring Ass and Birdie:
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That's right folks, Birdie faced her past! But the bad news is we don't get to see Astarion in this (audio from The Adventurous Adventures of One Direction):
(Video description - Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 wearing the Wave Mother's Armor with the following audio:
Guard 1: Whoa, check it out.
Guard 2: Hubba hubba hubba.
Gaurd 1: Nice. I love dudes in skirts.
END VIDEO.) I don't want to tell you how many times I recorded that until I felt like I got it right lol. Also yes, I DID do a scum save where I handed the guy over ONCE just so I could see Ass in this outfit, but Birdie did canonically save Redhammer in my actual save file.
And honestly, that's BASICALLY it for now! My most recent save was after that battle, so I need to figure out if Birdie's going to go back with her party to confront the rest of (or most of) the Wave Servants, or if this chapter of her life is closed.
In an ideal world I'd LOVE to make one of those artsy gif edits of my Tav like this and this, but PS5s make it hard to download clips without uploading them to YouTube first which I don't really want to do.
Thank you SO MUCH for this ask, I had a blast writing it!! Sorry it's so long, I just love this game so much and LOVE talking about it. Please feel free to ask more questions OR chat with me about YOUR Tav! I'd love to hear all about them :)
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dragon-of-the-soutn · 1 month
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Oh Robert and Cersei eldest legitimate daughter oc’s my beloveds.
Like just the idea of Robert and Cersei having the one legit kid is so funny because that little girls life would have been so messy and horrid and wild.
-Just 18 year old Cersei nine months into her marriage (if we assume legit daughter was a wedding night baby) who is so proud at having given the King a Princess and the realm an heir. It doesn’t even matter that she’s a girl with blue eyes and a tuft of black hair because she’s obviously going to grow up to be just like Cersei in very way that’s meaningful, there going to have matching outfits, her daughter will be the bell of the court, the apple of her fathers eye and everything is going to be perfect.
-And then her marriage to Robert deteriorates rapidly and her little girl just becomes another part of her that Robert now has a claim on that she can’t scrub clean. The girl is an eye sore, a reminder of all she’s lost and can never claw back. Her bright expressive blue eyes become defiant and wilful and her thick black hair Cersei thought beautiful now is course, wiry and unmanageable. At two years old the girl is just like Robert and his pestilential brothers in every way (this is what we call projection), and nothing like her beautiful golden haired, green eyed Joffrey who is perfect in every way, shall become the best king in the history of Westeros and be exactly like Cersei because he already is. And she has exactly the same thoughts when Myrcella and Tommen are born. The girl on the other hand when Cersei remembers that she exists is just an easy target for her to lash out at when she’s angry with Robert.
-The girl has no memories of her mother ever being kind to her, she was only a babe during that time. And had been raised by a revolving door of Septa’s, nursemaids and Maestro’s since then. She has grown up understanding that her mother doesn’t like her, has no idea why her mother doesn’t like her and probably assumes that she a fourteen year old girl who has lived a pretty sheltered life so far must be the worst person to ever exist, and my goodness does she internalise that shit.
-So is see her either overcompensating to try and prove that she isn’t what Cersei thinks she is by trying to be the most Princess to ever Princess. Like my girl can dance, sing, play the high harp and 12 other instruments, sew, embroider, reads and writes poetry and novels in about twelve diffent languages, recite her textbooks backwards from memory and has a head for numbers. Or she swings violently the other way to give her mother a giant middle finger say I am all you feared me to be and more and chooses to out tomboy every tomboy who has ever tomboyed. Lannister arrogance and Baratheon stubborn coming in clutch in both scenarios.
-Because of course she isn’t doing too much and pushing herself too far and burning herself out, fuck you, learns High Valyrian at seven years old in a week to piss you off. And of course she isn’t doing this for attention or to prove something by doing something that will likely get her killed, fuck you, dose a backflip and then demands to be taught how to sword fight to piss you off.
-To be clear Robert is an equally shitty father to all his children. He ignores the lot of them equally bar maybe Joffrey who he sort of remembers exists because he’s crowned Prince and his behaviour keeps Robert awake at night and all that jazz. Truly equality for all.
-Also please welcome Legit daughter to the elder sister-mother gang headed by Catelyn Stark because someone had to raise Myrcella and Tommen and it sure as hell wasn’t Cersei and Robert. Truly mothering at 12 like Cersei had died in childbirth, no one is doing it like her. (Myrcella and Tommen are the only bright things in her life and she would die for them.)
-You’ve heard of Mammas boys, you’ve heard of Daddy’s girls now get ready for Uncle Renly’s girl. The only adult in her life to give her an ounce of unconditional affection and guidance and my goodness does she cling onto that like a vice. Like ride or die for Renly in a way that’s concerning.
-Or arguably worse, she’s a Stannis girl because she’s recognised that there both outsiders in there own family and Stannis was once like ‘I also can repeat the entire history of House Baratheon backwards’ and now she’s convinced they bonded. Six year old legit daughter will just appear in his office when Cersei had laid into her being silently sad and morose (she is in fact depressed) and Stannis who had no idea how to comfort a child nor recognise that she is in fact sad will be like ‘just sit there and don’t bother me while I’m working’. And be sweating bullets having no idea what to say to her for the rest of the day so they just sit in silence while his nice is like, ‘uncle Stannis is a thoughtful and quiet person like me so we say what we need to with silences 🥰 he’s the only one in the Red Keep who understands me 😊❤️, I wish he was my father.’ Meanwhile Stannis is like ‘should I ask Davos for advice? He has children, does he know how to talk to children? No, I’ll ask Davos.’ And he never does.
-And then Robert dies, Ned is like yo Stannis all the kids bar your favourite nice are illegitimate and things get juicy!
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shadowqueenjude · 7 months
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TOG characters meet ACOTAR characters part 1
It was the annual Yulemas celebration, and all of Aelin’s friends + Lorcan had convened in Terrasen’s palace. Everyone from Ansel of Briarcliff to Manon Crochan Blackbeak came. Even Yrene with her abdomen that was now showing had come. Aelin and Rowan’s home had never felt more full. It was an amazing feeling. She wondered if this was how it would feel to have children.
She pushed the feeling aside. As much as she wanted children, she wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment yet. Terrasen’s rebuilding came first.
Aelin was wearing a shiny silver dress while her mate wore green armor (sigh, when was he going to start wearing normal clothing?) that brought out his eyes. Fenrys on the other hand, was having way too much fun dressing up. He’d shown up in a full-blown white toga, paired with a golden laurel and golden waistband. He’d tied half his hair up and left the rest to cascade in waves around his shoulders. He seemed just fine as he went to annoy Lorcan, but Aelin could sense the sadness radiating out of him. Aelin just wished she knew how to fix it.
Lorcan was not in black (gasp!), but rather it seemed he had been forced into dark red robes by his wife, who wore a matching dark red dress. It never failed to amuse Aelin that one, his name was Lord Lorcan Lochan, and two, he willingly followed the small, delicate young Lady of Perranth’s every order. He had been teaching her how to read while helping rebuild Perranth, so Aelin would sometimes catch Elide reading children’s books out of the Terrasen royal library.
Chaol was awkwardly standing in a corner with Manon, of all the people. Dorian was dancing with Chaol’s wife, leaving the two standing near each other. Chaol looked slightly pale and constantly stared at Manon’s hands, as if waiting for the iron nails to unsheathe themselves. Aelin decided to spare her old friend and come in between them.
Once she was within earshot (since she was Fae, she was still quite far from them), she heard Manon hiss in his ear, “Agree to dance with me Chaol, so that Dorian thinks I’m playing nice with his friends.”
“Are you playing nice with his friends though?” Chaol dared to ask.
“Do I look nice to you, human? Come, let’s dance.” Manon grabbed his hand.
“Mind your manners, witch,” Aelin said coolly, stepping towards them. There was a glimmer of relief in Chaol’s eyes as Aelin interfered. “I’ll keep her from doing anything murderous, don’t worry,” Aelin said, patting Chaol on the arm. Then they began to dance.
Manon had very little grace, but Chaol made up for it with his own steering.
“No interest in dancing, my queen?” Rowan suddenly appeared in front of him, offering a tattooed hand to dance. Aelin snorted. “Still pretending to be a gentleman, I see.” But she accepted the hand and let him pull her to the dance floor.
Aelin swished and swayed around, and Rowan laughed. “Are you drunk already, my queen?”
Aelin shook her head. “No, the floor is just unsteady.”
“Why would it be unsteady?” Rowan asked. But then he suddenly tilted sideways. “Oh shit.” Aelin had no time to react when she and a majority of the guests at her party got sucked into a vacuum in the ground like a black hole. Meanwhile in Velaris… Gwyn rolled her eyes as she trained with Emerie and Nesta. “Merill has become more and more obsessed with her otherworld theory ever since you used the Harp. I don’t know how she found out about it, but…” Gwyn swiped low with her sword and aimed a kick at Emerie, who dodged it quickly. “She’s convinced she’s found a way she can actually look into other worlds. I told her she’s barking, and she got mad.”
Nesta snorted. “I’d be pretty irritated too if a little priestess called me crazy.”
Gwyn elbowed her, and the three of them laughed. Merill’s experiments were ridiculous anyway.
Lucien was just strolling through the streets of Velaris when he was hit by flying fae.
The Mother must really hate him, he decided. He’s just minding his own business on any other day and of COURSE he’s hit in the face by a body.
“That’s it, I’m done with this shit,” Lucien grumbled, pushing the body off of him. He found himself staring into the eyes of a beautiful female. Her eyes were a turquoise with a ring of gold around the pupil, with long flowing blonde hair that fell to her waist. She was wearing an elegant crown along with a silver dress so sparkly Lucien almost had to look away. But that wasn’t the strangest thing. No, the strangest thing was that…
“I can smell the flame on you,” he said. The female just stared at him, confused. Then she replied back in a foreign language.
Lucien recognized it from a class he had taken ages ago. He was probably the only one of his brothers who would ever recognize it, as he had had the most thorough education as the youngest child. He was pretty sure there would never come an occasion where he’d need to converse in such a dead language, but here he was.
“I can’t understand you,” she had said. “No one has spoken that language here in thousands of years,” Lucien replied back in that old tongue. His words sounded strange, like they were spoken by a different person.
The blonde girl gasped. “Oh no. I must have traveled between worlds.”
Lucien raised a brow. “Impressive. How’d you manage that?”
The girl shook her head. “This was not supposed to happen. The Wyrdgates are closed.”
“I have no idea what Wyrdgates are, but I’m pretty sure there are multiple ways to cut across worlds.” The girl stared at him. “Where am I?”
Lucien shrugged. “Prythian.”
“My friends- they must have fallen here with me. Where are they?”
Lucien shrugged. “I don’t know. I only saw you, as you literally knocked me down.”
The girl winced. “Sorry about that.”
Lucien smirked. “There are better ways to get my attention than sitting on my face.”
The girl smirked back but replied with, “You’re hot for sure, but I’m married.”
Lucien stood up, brushed off his clothes, then offered the girl a hand. “I was only joking. I’m a mated male.”
The girl took it. “What a coincidence. I’m also mated. What is your name?”
“Lucien. You?”
The girl grinned. “Aelin.”
Lucien and Aelin searched around Velaris for her friends. It wasn’t hard to find most of them. They were all dressed in strange attire and looked extremely disoriented. Lucien soon met Aelin’s mate and husband, a male who looked as if he’d fit right into the Summer Court with his white hair and tanned skin. He later found a male he could only describe as golden. Golden hair, golden skin, golden on his clothes. He gasped when he saw Lucien. Lucien had raised a brow. “Is something wrong?”
The golden male had replied with, “Wow…your hair. It’s so bright, and thick, and colorful, and long, and shiny!!!!!” He’d turned to the white-haired male and said, “I want red hair now, Rowan.”
Lucien had to stifle a laugh. “Thanks.”
“How do you maintain your hair?” The golden male, who Lucien soon came to know was named Fenrys, kept asking him about his hair care routine and it occupied them until Aelin found their other friends.
Lorcan groaned as he got off the ground. He was covered in snow, having landed in a nice, clean patch of it. He panicked for a moment, searching for his wife before he realized he hadn’t let go of her hand. Elide was right next to him, and she looked a little winded but otherwise ok. On Lorcan’s other side several feet down, he could see Manon, Chaol, Dorian, and Yrene getting off the ground. Yrene was frantically patting her womb, trying to ensure that her baby was still alive. Lorcan resisted the urge to shout that her baby was just fine. He had no idea what sort of enemies were here.
He got up and gently pulled his wife with him. Together, they began to walk towards the King of Adarlan. Just then, he saw Aelin walk around the corner with Fenrys, Rowan, and a strange male with red hair and a scar that added a dangerous edge to his handsome face.
Together, Lorcan and company walked towards Aelin.
“Who the hell are you,” Lorcan asked shortly of the redhead.
Aelin tsked. “Sorry about him, Lucien. He’s a miserable bastard, but don’t let him put you out. You ever need him to do something, just ask his wife, Elide.” She gestured to the woman whose hand Lorcan still held.
Lorcan scowled, but the male who Aelin referred to as Lucien looked him over and grinned.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lorcan demanded. The male with glossy red hair and a wicked scar to go with the metal eye on one side of his face only grinned and replied, "You're taller than Cassian."
“Who the hell is Cassian?”
Lucien shrugged. “Nobody important. An annoying, bratty, overgrown bat.” Lucien turned to Aelin. “I’m assuming you’ll want a safe place to stay temporarily with all your subjects.”
Aelin raised a brow. “Subjects?”
Lucien snorted. “I don’t think ordinary citizens walk around with that kind of glamour or with crowns on their heads.” He gestured to all of them. “I have a residence in this city. I’ll take you all there.”
Lorcan wasn’t sure if they could trust the male, but he seemed decent enough. Lorcan could smell no ill will on him. He wondered at the scar on his face. Fae did not scar easily, and for him to have a metal eye like that…he must have survived unbearable cruelty. He immediately thought of his wife’s ruined ankle, a product of the tower she had been locked in for ten years, and he clenched his teeth. What kind of fucked up shit went on in this world?
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klbwriting · 3 months
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Not Romeo, Not Juliet
Chapter 9: A Little Wild
Fandom: Red Hood
Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader
Warnings: minor violence, angsty af Jason, semi-bad father Bruce Wayne
Summary: Dick blocked YN's number and Jason isn't please
Notes: so this story is turning out longer than I imagined and I'm pretty sure it's going to have a sequel; I know where I'm ending this one but so much is going to remain unresolved that I'm going to need a second part, also I think my favorite thing in this fic is Jason's crush on Annabeth Chase, it makes me laugh every time it comes up
If by chance I talk a little wild, forgive me; I had it from my father.
— HENRY VIII, ACT 1 SCENE 4
Jason had texted YN that night from the ER and she had said she would talk to him the next day but then she didn’t text him that whole day. He thought maybe she had been scared, worried, annoyed, a plethora of less than flattering thoughts filled his head, but she had never just disappeared on him so at school on Monday, when he wasn’t under the watchful eye of Dick, he tried to text her and found that her number had been blocked and he wasn’t able to unblock it. He held tight to his anger that day, using it for play practice, enough so that the director asked for him to stay after. He didn’t want to, he wanted to get home and punch his brother in the face before demanding he undo the block on YN’s number, but his director had been nothing but kind of supportive to him, so he stayed, keeping the rage locked down, eyes a striking green at the moment.
“How do your eyes do that color changing thing?” she asked him as he sat on the edge of the stage by her. He shrugged; fist clenched at his sides. She could see he wasn’t in the mood for her jokes, so she took a more serious tone. “I appreciate that whatever you are angry about you are using for act five, but you actually punched Matt and that wasn’t great.” Jason nodded, he knew that had been too much, but he honestly thought Matt was lucky it would just be a black eye and not a broken nose. “You want to talk about it, or should I just send you home to glower?”
“My brother is being an ass,” he said, glancing at her to see if she would harp on his language. She just nodded in understanding. “There’s this girl and he doesn’t like me seeing her because of who her dad is. She is great, but he says we don’t actually know her.” Jason didn’t know why his theater director was so easy to talk to, besides his therapist and YN she was the only person who actually seemed to listen to him, and he needed that. He needed someone to see him as he was, not his past or what he could be in the future but who he was right now. Dick didn’t understand that, couldn’t settle on who Jason was in this in-between world. He wasn’t Robin anymore, but he wasn’t whatever was coming next, he was just confused and somewhat lost. She seemed to get that, and she probably saw a lot of kids like him wander through, trying to make sense of their lives, maybe that’s why she always knew what to say.
“Sounds like he has his reasons, they’re not good ones at all, but maybe you should talk to him about those reasons,” she suggested. Jason hung his head, shaking it. “Look, I have seen your file, it’s a very thick packet of papers, they describe a kid who came from a less than happy home life to become a child of one of the richest men in the world. Then you stopped being Jason Todd and because almost a carbon copy of Dick Grayson, your older brother. Bruce Wayne knew what he wanted in a son and you seemed to give that too him for a while. I can’t exactly say what happened after you were expelled from Gotham Magnet Academy, but I know that the fight you got in wasn’t your fault. There was nothing to suggest that you would attack anyone…”
“It was my fault,” he said softly. Jason hated thinking about that day, the day that Bruce had probably given up on him. Sure he had kept him, he was still Robin, but he had been pulled from school, forced into home school, all because Jason had refused to believe he was wrong. Bruce didn’t always know best, Jason was smart despite what his adoptive father thought. He knew that Penguin had an illegitimate son in his school and Jason would prove it, get the kid to talk. He had been a classmate of his in science, quiet, but with a mean streak that even Jason didn’t fully find out about until he found the kid cutting lines onto a girl in an empty classroom. She had broken up with baby Penguin after only dating a month, which in terms of 8th grade relationships, was a long time, and he hadn’t taken it well. Jason had stopped him, saving the girl, who had run out of school that day and never came back, never told anyone why Jason had put that boy in the hospital. Jason had been expelled, that boy had been proven by Bruce to not have any relation to Penguin, just a slight resemblance in how cruel his eyes were, that Jason took as proof. It was the same recklessness that had led Jason to chasing the Joker on his own. Led to him being cornered while Joker beat him to death in that empty funhouse. Jason still wasn’t sure whether Bruce left him to die or not. Jason was a ticking time bomb, maybe Dick was right to block YN from his life. He wouldn’t be any good for her.
“Jason, you were 14, kids get into fights and that kid was bad news if you ask me,” she said. Jason looked at her, how did she know so much? She smiled at him. “You’re a good kid Jason Todd and you’ll be a good man someday if you let yourself heal from whatever trauma you experienced. Right now, you’re holding onto the pain, and its going to take a long time, but you have to let it go and let yourself move past it.” Jason nodded slowly, still curious why his theater teacher knew so much about everything, but he was late, and he knew Dick was still tracking him. He said thanks and departed for home.
Dick was waiting for him when he got back, on the phone, and Jason’s blood ran cold when he heard what the conversation.
“Bruce, I have no idea who that guy in the helmet is,” Dick said, clearly agitated. Jason went up to the loft, pretending to do homework, but listening to every word his brother said. He was guessing the other side of the conversation, but it sounded like Bruce wasn’t easily convinced about Dick’s innocence.
“He used smoke bombs; you can literally buy ten of those in the Narrows for three dollars…”
“What are you talking about? Jason didn’t even like red…”
“Jason is dead Bruce, remember? You left him in the ground to rot…”
Jason still his fake writing, hating the reminder that his father didn’t really want him to be alive, had decided that instead of going to the league, which had paid Joker to be a distraction in Gotham that night, and make them right the wrong they had created he had wanted to leave him be. He heard a deep sigh downstairs.
“I know you’re listening, just come down and we can talk,” Dick called. Jason walked down the stairs, plopping on the couch. “So, I’m guessing you noticed I blocked YN’s number…”
“Ya and I really would like to know why,” Jason asked. Dick sighed again, the sound becoming second nature since Jason had moved in. “She isn’t dangerous, she just wants to be in theater, go to Gotham U, become a teacher. She’s not some greedy villain like her dad.”
“She could be one day though. We’re all just one bad day from being criminals,” Dick said.
“Yes, I know, Bruce and fear toxin showed us that,” Jason said, remembering that day quite well. Bruce had given him a scar across his stomach that until his dip in the Lazarus Pit had been a reminder that the Batman was always one step ahead of them.
“And you’re not exactly in the best place to be dating,” Dick continued. “That’s rich considering that when you thought I was dating some girl in my theater group you were giddy about it,” Jason shot back.
“That’s because when you talked about her I could see it wasn’t serious, you didn’t really have too deep of feelings for whoever you made up…”
“Annabeth, and I love Annabeth, she ever becomes real I am marrying her, Percy be damned,” Jason muttered, folding his arms. Dick ignored him.
“I saw it when I walked in on you and YN the other night, you really do love her. And I’m not watching you become Bruce with Selina,” his big brother finished. Jason paused, thinking back to what he knew of Selina Kyle, Catwoman, and sometimes Bruce’s lover. She had been the only person to make Batman lose his advantage, always getting away, sometimes staying around, but ultimately leaving again. The last time she had been in Gotham Jason was maybe 13 and he just remembered Bruce being upset about her leaving.
“She wasn’t that bad for Bruce,” Jason argued.
“You didn’t see them when they started, all the damage it did to Bruce and to Gotham. I was cleaning up messes for months because Bruce refused to do anything about her. Then she leaves and I’m sure you saw Bruce trying his best, but he was devastated, he was nearly useless. I was patrolling all of Gotham and Bludhaven to make up for his lack of care,” Dick said. “I know Alfred was shielding you from it, guiding you in that time, and I’m glad he did, you didn’t need to see your hero like that. But Jason, I will be damned before I see another criminal take one of us down like that.” Jason shook his head.
“I understand what you’re trying to do Dick but you can’t. You can’t just assume she is like Selina, who at the time all that shit went down, was a hardened criminal with years of built up anger and hate towards the city. YN isn’t like that and you keeping her from me, someone who wants to help her never become that, isn’t going to help,” he argued.
“I won’t risk it Jason, I can’t lose you again,” he said. Jason felt his heart tighten at that. His brother cared about him, he knew that, but how deeply he didn’t think he’d ever know. And maybe Dick was right to keep him away from YN, maybe she would become a criminal, or more likely, Jason would be the one who hurt her. He was reckless still, just like he had been in middle school, with Joker, even at the club the other night. He hadn’t thought things through, and he got lucky no one had been hurt, how often would that happen? What if YN was in the line of fire? What if she was holding the gun? He sat back and shook his head.
“Fine,” he said softly. Maybe he would give it time, see if maybe he just thought he was right again and that this feeling wasn’t what he thought it was.
He kept it up that whole week, but nothing changed. He felt empty when he couldn’t call or message YN, hated going to practice when he knew he wouldn’t be able to send her something stupid Jackson did, or she couldn’t send him stories about how bad her male lead was. He couldn’t tell her how he was lost right now, all the new information about Bruce, the digging into his past, how all of that was making him feel incredibly listless and apathetic. He felt like he’d never care about anything again. Then he left practice on Friday evening and sitting on a bench in the front courtyard was YN, with the seniors stomping right towards her.
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dreepy-draws · 2 months
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i think this ones a given due to ur bio but SLAMS HANDS ON DESK
sire… give me,,,, ur eugavus + liberta & lucilla headcanons please (it can be one, two or all of them idm, i just want yummies)
OKAY SRRY THIS TOOK A MIN BSHHJAS. here's some happy ones about like hobbies and stuff. I have some angsty ones typed out I'll post separetly later :P
Eugene hand made a diary just for Liberta once bc Liberta had said offhand that he would like to write like he does
Eugene spent HOURS making it perfect so now it's one of Liberta's prized possesions
Eugene and Gavus sometimes go back to the old hut they lived in. they aren't sure why they do it, but they enjoy seeing the place where their little family had lived, and find it soothing to just sit in each other's presence by the little area Liberta and Lucilla used to run around
Liberta actually made friends with Tamrus at some point, and they hang out together often. Tamrus taught Liberta how to pick the sweetest berries to make treats with
Liberta took up baking, and frequently makes treats to share with his family (as well as Tamrus when they hang out ofc)
Lucilla takes up wood carving as a hobby, like Liberta did with baking. She finds it soothing, and she makes little sculptures for her family
Eugene actually knows how to make clothes, and made new outfits for Liberta and Lucilla so they could change up their clothes (and not just be stuck in what the celestials/hypogeans had them wearing before
Gavus does the cooking. Not because he's good it (he's painfully mediocre at it actually), but because Eugene is just that awful at it
Liberta knows how to play the harp, and Eugene can play the flute. They both play songs together and Gavus and Lucilla could sit there for hours listening
I actually think Lucilla would be more helpful with chores than Liberta. Liberta isn't unhelpful (like a certain fool of chaos), but Lucilla gets literally angry when there's dust and stuff so she cleans pretty often
srsly, sometimes Eugene will walk in the room while she's cleaning and just hear her using all the swears under the sun at a speck of dirt that won't come off (Eugene thinks its so funny just the amount of swears she actually knows, Gavus hates it)
Gavus and Liberta will often read the same book at the same time so they can have long discussions about it (like a book club or something). Eugene will read a book with them on occasion if it's interesting. Lucilla refuses every time
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skullverse · 1 year
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➼ from the start ⋆ ★
vernon chwe x female reader---
young love was never easy, and you had your own sour tasting of it. when your childhood best friend, vernon, falls deeply in love with someone else, you wonder if you’d ever get a chance again. to be fair, you’ve been there: from the start.
tags: friends to lovers, fluff, angst (kinda)
word count: 1.7k
first ever post woah. this is a short work based on laufey's 'from the start' but with a happy ending bc i'm a hopeless romantic. enjoy (or don’t idc)
i stirred my watered down iced latte, head in my hand, listening to vernon talk. i had grown tired of listening to him harp on about some ‘soulmate’ he met at the library a few weeks ago. “she’s so perfect!” “blah blah blah,” was all i could hear. i’ve known vernon for as long as i can remember. seeing him this knee deep in love was something new to me. though, the thing that was harder to accept is the fact that he never noticed the little things anymore. how i get quiet when there’s no one else around, how every small act he does makes my cheeks flush pink. when he looks at me with his stupid brown eyes, his gaze reminds me of how he doesn’t feel the same. 
“y/n? y/n~ hello? earth to y/n..” vernon said, waving his hand in my face. i snapped my gaze up, looking at him.
“huh? yeah, she’s cool, or that sucks,” i mumbled, i had no clue what he just said. vernon sighed and wiped his hands on his pants, defeated.
“you’re not listening,” he said sadly.
“well how could i listen? what do you want me to tell you ‘she sounds so dreamy, you’re lucky!’?” i replied. how could i just sit here, listening to the guy i like most talking about another girl? “i just got a little bored of listening.”
“well, could you at least try helping me talk to her?” he asked. i squinted at him. “please y/n,” he pleaded.
“okay, fine,” i said, “but what’s in it for me?”
“er, whatever you want?”
------
i walked into the library hallway, around the same time vernon had gone and met the girl. he gave me a brief description outside. before heading in, we stood around like creeps waiting to see if vernon’s mystery girl walked in. i was talking about my horrible psychology project when vernon suddenly shushed me and hit my arm repeatedly.
“shhh, look! that’s her!” he said in a whisper-yell. i had to admit, she was very pretty. it drove me a bit insane.
“alright, i’ll see what i can do,” i said. no turning back now.
i walked into the huge library, books lining every corner. the big skylight brought in rays of sunlight in every inch of the room. i looked around, trying to spot vernon’s soulmate. after wandering a bit, i saw her in the far corner looking at the rentable cds. 
“can’t believe i’m doing this,” i grumbled, before walking into the music section. i snuck a peek at her, trying to think of something to start my creepy conversation. i noticed she was wearing a pretty lace top, a perfect contender. 
“hi!” i said in a hushed tone, “oh my god i love your top, where’d you get it?” i asked.
her short black hair moved so gracefully as she turned to look at me. she gave me a warm smile before answering.
“aw thanks! i think it’s from a website called cider,” she told me. she was holding a cd: a soundtrack to one of my favorite games.
“is that the persona 5 soundtrack? i love that game!” i said, trying to get more of a conversation. 
“it is! you know that game? it’s one of my favorites,” she said shyly. i excitedly nodded yes. maybe she wasn’t that bad of a person. we stood there talking about our shared love for the game, and found out we actually had a lot in common.
“what’s your name? i think you’re cool!” she asked.
“i’m y/n, you?” i replied.
“i’m scarlett, y’know could i get your number? i’d love to get to know you more!” she asked me.
“score.” i thought to myself. who knew it’d be this easy?
“yeah of course! would you wanna walk to my class together? i left my bag there, maybe we could grab a coffee?” i suggested.
“i’d love that!”
we chatted on our way out of the library. i suddenly remembered that i left vernon waiting for me outside before i entered. i wondered, was he still there?
my questions were answered as i spotted a very impatient vernon standing against the wall. i told my new friend if she could give me a moment.
“wow, woah.” was all vernon said seeing me manage to befriend his crush. “any information?” he whispered.
“better. her number,” i whispered. “now see ya vernon!” i called behind me while waving.
“sorry,” i told scarlett, she seemed like she was in awe.
“woah, who was he?” she asked shyly.
“oh, just my friend vernon, why?” i asked. i took one look at her expression and instantly knew the answer. “oh my god you think he’s cute.”
“well! just a little..” she defended herself, “okay, maybe..”
i smiled and laughed in a form of excitement. vernon would faint if he heard about this. “i’ll set you guys up!”
—two weeks later; y/n’s house.
i had gotten home about an hour ago, planning to work on my project. but all i could think about was how vernon and scarlett liked each other. my head spun as i laid in bed, my blanket covering me entirely. i looked out my window, staring into the blue. what was i to do? two weeks had passed since i set scarlett and vernon up, and they were perfect. they instantly clicked like missing puzzle pieces. the guy i’ve fallen in love with now had the perfect chance of getting a girlfriend. whilst i had to play matchmaker. 
i hadn’t even realized it, but i was crying. tears stung my eyes, my makeup running. it was terrifying. love was truly driving me insane. 
as if my mind was read, my phone chimed, a text. i sighed, grabbing it and turning it over. my eyes took a second to adjust to the bright screen, but i soon saw the two unread texts. it was vernon. ‘hey where r u? thought we agreed to meet up at my place at 5.’ the latest one read: ‘im coming over’. i quickly got up, struggling to keep my balance. i got a look of myself in the mirror, seeing my ruined makeup. i cursed under my breath, taking some makeup remover to wipe up the mess. my eyes were a bit red and puffy, but i doubted that vernon would notice. 
i heard three short knocks at my door. my heart was practically beating out of my chest due to my nerves. the last person i wanted to see was vernon. i slowly made my way over to the door, looking into the peephole. sure enough, there stood vernon, with his hands in his pockets. his fluffy brown hair was messed up. i took a deep breath and opened the door.
“hey,” i said quietly, not daring to look into his eyes.
“yo what happened? you could’ve just called off the plans-hey. y/n, look at me,” he said, suddenly grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at him.
his hand fell to his side when he saw my face. red, puffy, horrified.
“are you okay?” he asked cautiously. he made his way in, closing the door behind him.
“i’m fine, what’re you talking about?” 
“no you’re not, you’ve clearly been crying. i can tell because-”
i quickly cut him off, “okay, so what? why do you suddenly care? shouldn’t you be hanging out with scarlett and making her your girlfriend?” i spat out.
“what? can i not worry about my friend?” he said, hurt. 
“vernon, that’s the problem. you haven’t been worrying about your friend,” the word ‘friend’ hurt to say, knowing that it was all he saw me as. “it’s just..you’ve been so focused on scarlett. ever since that day at the cafe, i just saw you change. hell, she was all you talked about until you found out that i set you two up! it’s like you forgot about my entire existence and replaced me. it hurts vernon, it hurts a lot.” i muttered. 
vernon was about to say something, but i managed to cut him off, “it hurts seeing you fall in love with someone knowing that i’ve had the biggest crush on you from the start,” i blurted. i gasped and covered my mouth, instantly regretting my last words. i could feel tears welling up in my eyes again.
as i started to cry, vernon grabbed my arms and held me close to him. though i couldn’t see his face, i knew he’d have a shocked expression. we stood, hugging, embracing each other’s warmth. i sobbed, unable to stop the tears from flowing. i felt his chin at the top of my head, resting.
“i just wish you had told me sooner y/n,” vernon finally spoke up, breaking our hug.
“am i too late?” i replied, looking down. 
“nope, i’d say you’re right on time,” he said, smiling. “i had to get this off my chest sooner or later, i’ve felt the exact same. you just beat me to it. the only reason why i ‘liked’ scarlett was because i thought you wouldn’t see me as more than a friend,” he rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward smile.
i couldn’t help but let out a laugh, i couldn’t believe it. i wiped my tears with my sleeve, looking up at him. “did your forcing work?” i asked.
“i can’t just get rid of my feelings for you that easily. hell, just thinking of you, i knew i’ve loved you from the beginning,” he shyly admitted. 
“i think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said,” i said laughing. 
he sat me down on my couch, wiping the remaining tears off of my face. i felt my face burn up, realizing how close we were. his fingers grazed my cheek, slowly trailing down to my lips. he paused, hesitating. 
“can i beat you to it this time?” he asked, breaking the silence.
i laughed, “go right ahead.”
he smiled fondly, leaning in and closing the small gap between us. he kissed me slowly, holding my chin up slightly. my hands interlaced with his soft hair, deepening the kiss. we eventually broke apart, for the sake of our lungs. i looked up at him, smiling like a loon. he held my hands, peppering kisses on my fingers. 
“i’ve loved you y/n. from the start.”
----end.
skullverse 01.
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ahoppingmagician · 11 months
Text
Helluva Rant Part ???
Before I start the ranting, I just want to say to my fellow anti Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel/Viziepop Community members that you guys aren't bad people for hating a terribly written show that is popular, from what I read and see people draw on this tiny community is nothing but intelligence, passion and talent. Don't let anyone dull your thunder because you are a groovy flesh puppet.
Anyway time for some more ranting about Millie and Moxxie.
Millie still has no personality, I will harp on this till I see her without Moxxie by choice doing something she likes. What's the point of her in this series, is it to show how useless Moxxie is in this profession, no because Moxxie is capable and has shown it in every episode that centers around him. To show some girlboss, well no because her ass gets knocked out every battle. Is it to protect Moxxie from his abusive boss, also no because she never beats the shit out of Blitzo or even speaks up when he insults her husband.
WHAT IS THE REASON FOR HER BEING HERE VIV, WHAT IS THE REASON!
What we see of their relationship is a little unhealthy to me.
Moxxie needs alot of validation to the point that he will sacrifice financial gain, we see this in unhappy campers. Millie does give him alot of affection and validation clearly, but most of her time is focused around him. I suspect it's because he will act just like the latest episode, belittling, blaming, little bursts of anger, and of course just complete dismissal of how Millie feels. That could also explain why it seems like both of them don't have a big social life outside of work. Moxxie doesn't like when the attention isn't on him and Millie wants to avoid his passive aggressive comments. I might of read too much into that but that's what happens when you don't prepare your show at all.
Millie also let's most people in her life just trample over him, Blitzo can say whatever he wants to her husband and gets away with it, Loona can comment on his weight, something he is very insecure about but all she will do is give a judgemental stare or just dismiss it. In the pilot we see that she doesn't take that shit and even defends him but in the show she is so accepting. Her family aren't fans of him, granted her family doesn't seen to be great fans of Millie or view her as less than..or do they because in the first episode they seem to adore her but just thinks she can do better, with how Millie acts when she is giving attention I'm not so sure now.
So conclusion this show is just a mess that will never change, oh and if your reading this you look great, your hair is pretty or handsome, and worship the great frog god so he will spare you from the frog army.
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kiame-sama · 1 year
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So I know your doing anime headcanons right now but I've been dying to know the relationships that your OC's have with their parents! Like I want to know about Evan's mom or Walter's parents. Btw I've been a huge fan of your blog for a long time and I really love your work!
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Walter's mother and father both passed in a car accident. It was while Walter was near the end of his formal medical education. Around this time, Amira was still in high school and was not handling the loss of their parents well. Walter had to learn to juggle medical school, his own mental health, his sister's mental and physical health, Amira's education, finishing his fellowship with the hospital he was studying at, and making enough to survive.
- This is the time Walter started taking a few under the table jobs to make ends meet and met Evan. He is somewhat of an on-call doctor for Evan's miscellaneous adventures.
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- Evan was raised as a mafioso's son from a very young age. His grandmother on his father's side is his only living relative besides a spare few cousins. Evan got along well with his father, and it was clear Evan had absolute respect for his father in almost all regards. His mother was not a prominent part of his life and tried to walk out on the family when Evan was six, he never saw her afterwards but knew better than to question his father about a traitor.
- When Evan's father was killed during Evan's first wedding, Evan lost almost all of his young and reckless outlook on life. He became much more intimidating and serious after the death of his father and his impromptu accelerated promotion to head of the family. Only Evan's Grandmother is allowed to get on him for any behavior without Evan becoming angered. He's used to her harping and nagging.
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- Carlos is still close with his family, though they are rather spread out world wide. Carlos' father was a renowned medical practitioner who specializes in pulmonary procedures. Carlos' mother travels with his father to various communities to aid in treatment of mycoorganisms and Tuberculosis. His uncles and aunts range from professors to large land owners with various ranches.
- Carlos loves when his mother and father come to visit because he loves cooking dinner with his mother. Carlos has two sisters, one of whom is already doing well with her thriving family and the other is working on the conservation of Asian Elephants.
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- Jackson... Misses his family with almost every part of his soul. Family and heritage is important to a Native American and the true unity that came with being in an established tribe gave him a sense of belonging. He no longer has access to that sense of belonging or support due to his unofficial excommunication from his home.
- Jackson got along best with his mother who was always there for him in the hardest of times. Despite the potential repercussions, she still occasionally reaches out to check in on Jackson, though she can't talk with him for long.
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- Hahne only has his sister, Hada. He learned long ago that he would have to find his family instead of living with the ones he was related to by blood. Hahne's parents were rather absent if they weren't busy trying to overwork Hahne and ride on his success in swimming. Hahne raised Hada from a young age as his parents were always busy with work.
- After Hahne's parents disowned him, he moved with Hada to escape the persecution the family brought on him. He found a family in Evan and the mafia, but still cares deeply for his little sister.
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- Orion still speaks with his parents frequently. They returned to a villa in Tuscany where they live comfortably and happily. His father still thinks Orion is one hell of an author and can do no wrong. Orion's mother always sees him as a scrawny lad who needs more supper and a nice lover.
- They have brunch every other month when Orion flies out to visit them.
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- Amira is close with her older brother and sees him as her primary support after their parents died. They were not very close when their parents were alive but the simultaneous passing of their family brought the siblings together to support one another in grief.
- Amira still misses her family every day.
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- Maya's father was a professional surfer before he got into an accident during a competition and lost his legs. Kaya's mother takes care of her father most of the time and the two are hobby farmers. Kaya does what she can to help them enjoy their more self sustaining lifestyle.
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- Julie never met her father but always was told that he was a good man who had some hard choices in life to make. Very close with her mother and has little art get-togethers with her mother almost every week. Julie inherited the shop from her mother and grew up painting along side her.
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- Hada has not spoken with her parents ever since her brother was kicked out for being trans. She decided to cut all ties with everyone other than Hahne because he had always been the one who was there for her when she needed him to be.
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