#I’m going to be annoying about this for the next 200 years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fr0stf4ll · 23 days

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Forge of Starlight - Part 15

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 7.2k

warning; smut :)))

notes; Hey everyone, I hope that you have enjoyed the story so far. Unfortunately we are getting close to the end, the next part is the last one before the epilogue of the story :(((( I really love reading your comments so please do not hesitate to write literally anything ! I was also wondering if you would enjoy a bonus part, taking place when Feyre and her sisters are in the night court ( so like 200 year after the story) ? bisous bisous <333

here is the link for part 14 or part 16

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Cassian lounged on one of the sofas in the Townhouse living room, idly swirling a glass of whiskey as he stared at the ceiling. He sighed heavily, his wings draped over the back of the couch, as he glanced over at Mor, who was curled up in a chair with a book.

“Well,” Cassian began, a smirk playing on his lips, “it’s been three weeks, I think.”

Mor looked up from her book, raising an eyebrow. “Three weeks since what?”

Cassian chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “Three weeks since Azriel vanished into Y/N’s apartment and hasn’t shown his face around here.”

Mor rolled her eyes, setting her book down on the arm of the chair. “When I told Az not to come home, I didn’t think he would take it that seriously.”

Cassian laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that filled the room. “You know our dear brother, Mor. When it comes to Y/N, he’s always been a bit… intense.”

Mor shook her head, but there was a fond smile on her lips. “I think it’s time we remind him that he’s not a prisoner in her apartment. What do you say we go pay them a visit?”

Cassian grinned, setting his glass down on the table. “I’m in. Let’s go rescue them from their self-imposed isolation.”

With that, they both stood up and made their way out of the Townhouse, the cool air of Velaris refreshing after the warmth of the living room. As they approached your apartment, Cassian exchanged a knowing glance with Mor, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Cassian knocked on the door, a little louder than necessary, and the two of them waited. There was a moment of silence before the door creaked open, revealing you standing there in a nightgown that looked like it had seen better days. Your hair was tousled, and your neck was covered in hickeys, evidence of the past few weeks spent in Azriel’s company.

“Hello, everyone,” you greeted them, your voice a little groggy from sleep.

Cassian’s eyes widened, and he let out a bark of laughter. “It’s been three weeks, guys. Three weeks!”

Before you could respond, Azriel appeared behind you, looking just as disheveled, if not more so. He was wearing nothing but his underwear, his chest and neck also adorned with a series of hickeys. His expression was a mix of irritation and exhaustion as he took in the sight of Mor and Cassian standing at the door.

Azriel scowled at Cassian. “And it’s not enough,” he grumbled, before reaching past you and slamming the door shut in their faces.

Cassian and Mor burst into laughter, leaning against each other for support. Inside, they could hear you scolding Azriel, your voice muffled but clearly annoyed.

“Azriel, get back here!” you snapped, your tone exasperated.

Cassian shook his head, still chuckling. “Azriel needs to stop being so horny all the time.”

The door opened again, and you stood there with an exasperated expression, though there was a hint of a smile on your lips. “Sorry about that,” you said, stepping aside to let them in. “Come on in.”

Cassian grinned as he entered, opening his arms to hug you. “It’s good to see you, Y/N—”

Before he could finish, Azriel reappeared, his eyes narrowed as he saw Cassian approaching you. Without warning, he delivered a swift, powerful punch to Cassian’s jaw, sending him stumbling back.

“Hands off,” Azriel growled, his voice deadly serious, his eyes flashing with a protective fury that left no room for doubt—he wasn’t joking.

Cassian rubbed his jaw, wincing at the impact, but his eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and a bit of respect. “Alright, alright, Az. Point taken.”

You stepped between them, placing a hand on Azriel’s chest as you shot him a stern look. “Az, that’s enough. He’s just being friendly.”

Azriel’s gaze softened slightly as he looked down at you, his jaw still clenched. “He needs to know his place.”

Mor sighed, stepping forward to place a hand on Cassian’s arm. “Let’s not start a fight in the middle of Y/N’s living room, okay?”

You shook your head, laughing at the scene in front of you. “Az, go put some pants on,” you said, pushing him gently towards the bedroom.

Azriel grumbled something under his breath but complied, disappearing down the hallway to find something more appropriate to wear. Meanwhile, you led Mor and Cassian into the living room, where you started preparing tea for everyone.

As the water boiled, Mor leaned against the counter, watching you with an amused expression. “So, I take it things have been… intense?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You could say that. But it’s been good. Really good.”

Cassian, now nursing a sore jaw from Azriel’s earlier punch, grinned as he sat down at the table. “It’s good to see you both so happy. Even if Az has apparently decided to take his obsession with you to a whole new level.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a warmth in your expression. “He’s just… dedicated.”

Mor smirked. “That’s one way to put it.”

Azriel returned, now dressed in a pair of pants, though his protective stance was still evident as he sat down next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. His eyes flicked over to Cassian, making sure there were no lingering thoughts of challenging his claim.

The four of you spent the next hour catching up, the tension between Azriel and Cassian easing into a playful, if still slightly cautious, banter. Mor teased you both relentlessly, but there was an underlying warmth in her words that made it clear she was happy for you.

As you all sipped your tea, the conversation flowed easily, laughter filling the room. And though Azriel’s protective nature was still on full display, it was clear that he was content, happy even, to share this part of his life with the people he cared about most.

As you leaned into his side, feeling the warmth of his presence, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with love, friendship, and a healthy dose of Azriel’s fierce loyalty.

Life slowly began to return to a semblance of normalcy, or at least as normal as it could be after the whirlwind of emotions and events that had taken place over the past few weeks. You found yourself diving more deeply into your work with Rhysand, focusing on strengthening the relationships between the Night Court and the other courts, as well as various factions across the continent. It was a role that came naturally to you, given your extensive network and experience, and it allowed you to channel your energy into something productive, something that helped you heal.

Every morning, you would rise early and head to the Townhouse or the House of Wind, where Rhysand would be waiting with a new project or a new challenge. The two of you would pour over maps, letters, and contracts, discussing strategies and potential alliances. You found solace in the work, in the familiar rhythms of negotiation and diplomacy. It was a way to anchor yourself, to find purpose in the aftermath of loss.

But the smithy—the heart of your old life—remained cold and silent. The forge, once alive with the heat of fire and the rhythmic clang of metal on metal, now stood still. The tools were neatly arranged, untouched, waiting for the day when you would be ready to pick them up again. The weapons that lined the walls were dusted and polished, but they hung there like silent sentinels, reminders of a time when the shop was bustling with activity, with Alexander’s laughter echoing through the space.

You couldn’t bring yourself to light the forge just yet. The memories of Alex and Sellan were too fresh, too raw. The thought of stepping into the workshop without them there, without their voices and their presence, was more than you could bear. So, the smithy remained closed, its windows darkened, the door locked. A sign hung outside, simple and straightforward: “Closed for now. Come back soon.”

The villagers of Velaris understood, of course. Many had known Alex and had been touched by his enthusiasm and charm. They respected your need for time, for space, and they waited patiently for the day when the forge would come alive again.

In the meantime, your apartment became your sanctuary. It was where you spent your evenings, often in the company of Azriel. He had practically moved in, spending all of his nights and any free time he had with you. His presence was a comfort, a constant reminder that you were not alone. He had become your anchor, the one who held you together when the grief threatened to pull you under.

Azriel was careful not to push you, not to force you into anything you weren’t ready for. He was there when you needed him, whether it was for a quiet evening of reading by the fire, a late-night walk along the Sidra, or simply holding you as you drifted off to sleep. He seemed to understand that you needed time to heal, that the process couldn’t be rushed.

But even with the quiet comfort of Azriel’s presence, there were moments when the weight of your grief felt too heavy to bear. The nights were the hardest. Despite Azriel’s warmth beside you, there were times when you would wake in the middle of the night, your heart aching with the loss of Alex, with the memories of the life you had once led.

On those nights, Azriel would wake with you, sensing your distress even in his sleep. He would pull you close, his wings wrapping around you like a shield, and he would murmur words of comfort, his voice a soothing balm against the pain. In those moments, you would cling to him, finding strength in his unwavering support.

The apartment itself had undergone a transformation. Where once it had been a place of work and rest, it was now a place of healing. You had cleared out much of the old clutter, making space for new memories, new beginnings. The walls, once adorned with the tools of your trade, now held framed maps of the courts, gifts from Rhysand and Mor as a way of marking your new role in the Night Court’s diplomacy. The swords that had once been your pride and joy were now carefully arranged in a display case, a tribute to the craft that you still loved, even if you couldn’t bring yourself to practice it just yet.

And then there were the small touches of Azriel’s presence—his favorite books on your shelves, his jacket draped over the back of a chair, his boots by the door. It was as if he had always been there, a natural extension of your life, of your home.

The two of you settled into a routine, one that was both comforting and new. Azriel would leave early in the mornings for his duties as the Night Court’s spymaster, but he would always return to you in the evenings, bringing with him a quiet strength that helped you through the day. You would cook dinner together, often laughing at his attempts to assist in the kitchen, and then spend the rest of the night curled up together, talking about your day, sharing stories from the past, or simply enjoying each other’s company in silence.

Despite the new roles and the changes in your life, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. The smithy, cold and quiet, was a constant reminder of the life you had left behind, of the boy who had been taken from you too soon. You knew that one day, you would have to face it, to open the doors and light the forge once more. But for now, you allowed yourself the time to grieve, to heal, and to find your way back to the craft that had once brought you so much joy.

And through it all, Azriel was there, a steady presence in the storm, his love for you unwavering. You knew that no matter how long it took, he would be by your side, helping you find your way back to the light.

——

You sat in the meeting room at the House of Wind, the soft murmur of conversation filling the space as you gathered with Rhysand and some members of the Inner Circle. The view from the large windows was breathtaking, the rolling mountains and the sparkling Sidra river below a constant reminder of the beauty and power of the Night Court. But today, your focus was on the task at hand—the next step in your work to strengthen the alliances between the courts.

For the past few weeks, you had been exchanging letters with Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court. The two of you had been discussing potential alliances, trade agreements, and exchanges of knowledge that could benefit both courts. Helion had always been a keen negotiator, and your conversations had been both challenging and rewarding, the two of you sparring with words as you hammered out the details of a possible agreement.

Today, you were to discuss the final details with Rhysand and the others before making your way to Helion’s court to solidify the arrangement. As you sipped your tea, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. This was a significant step, not just for the Night Court, but for you personally. It was your first major diplomatic mission since you had taken on this role, and you were determined to see it through successfully.

Rhysand, seated at the head of the table, smiled warmly at you as he called the meeting to order. “Y/N, I want to start by saying how impressed we all are with the work you’ve done so far. Helion is not an easy man to negotiate with, but you’ve managed to make remarkable progress. I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re grateful to have you on our side.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the others—Mor, Cassian, and Amren—all of whom had been kept in the loop about your ongoing discussions with Helion.

“Thank you, Rhys,” you replied, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s not over yet. Helion is… well, he’s Helion. He’s charming and brilliant, but he’s also as stubborn as they come. We’ve agreed on most of the terms, but I’ll need to be there in person to finalize everything.”

Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp gaze fixed on you. “And you’re prepared for that? Helion can be… persuasive when he wants to be.”

You nodded, understanding the weight behind her words. Helion’s reputation as a flirt was well-known, but you had handled his charm well enough during your correspondence. “I’m ready. We’ve built a good rapport, and I’m confident we can come to an agreement that benefits both courts.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “And what exactly are we looking at in terms of this alliance? What’s Helion bringing to the table?”

You took a deep breath, ready to present the details. “Helion has proposed a mutual exchange of resources and knowledge. The Day Court is known for its vast libraries and magical artifacts, some of which they’re willing to share in exchange for our expertise in certain areas—specifically, some of the innovations we’ve developed in the Night Court. There’s also talk of a joint military training exercise between our forces and theirs, which could help strengthen both our defenses.”

Cassian nodded, his expression thoughtful. “A joint training exercise could be beneficial, especially with the state of things between the other courts. We could learn a lot from each other.”

Mor chimed in, a knowing smile on her face. “And let’s not forget the cultural exchange. Helion has expressed interest in visiting more often, perhaps even hosting some of our artists and scholars in his court.”

You nodded. “Exactly. It’s not just about trade and military might—it’s about fostering a deeper connection between our people. That’s something Helion values as much as we do.”

Rhysand steepled his fingers, his expression one of deep consideration. “It sounds like you’ve covered all the bases, Y/N. But I want to make sure you’re comfortable with this. Helion can be unpredictable, and we don’t want to put you in a situation where you feel out of your depth.”

You met Rhysand’s gaze, appreciating his concern. “I’m confident, Rhys. I’ve been through worse negotiations in my time, and I know how to handle Helion. Besides, this is important—for both our courts. I’m ready.”

There was a moment of silence as Rhysand considered your words. Finally, he nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Very well. We’ll make the necessary arrangements for your trip to the Day Court. And don’t worry—you’ll have all the support you need.”

Azriel, who had been sitting quietly beside you, his presence a comforting anchor throughout the meeting, finally spoke up. “I’ll accompany Y/N to the Day Court. It’s best if she has someone there who knows how to navigate Helion’s court, and I can ensure her safety.”

You shot Azriel a grateful look, knowing that his presence would not only offer protection but also give you an added layer of confidence. “Thank you, Az. I’d appreciate that.”

Rhysand’s smile widened slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly approving of Azriel’s suggestion. “Perfect. You’ll both leave in a few days, once the final details are settled.”

As the meeting wrapped up, the others began discussing the logistical aspects of the trip—travel plans, security measures, and what to expect once you arrived at the Day Court. But your mind was already turning to the task ahead, to the negotiations that awaited you.

When the meeting finally concluded, Rhysand placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression serious. “You’ve got this, Y/N. I have complete faith in you. Helion will find that the Night Court doesn’t back down easily.”

You smiled, the weight of the responsibility settling comfortably on your shoulders. “I won’t let you down, Rhys. We’ll make this alliance happen.”

With that, you and Azriel left the House of Wind, ready to prepare for your journey to the Day Court. As you walked side by side, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation—a feeling that this trip would mark a new chapter in your life, one where you were no longer just the blacksmith who had lost so much, but someone who was ready to forge new paths, to create new alliances, and to find strength in the bonds you were building.

The morning of your departure was crisp and clear, the kind of day that promised good weather for travel. You stood outside the House of Wind, waiting for Azriel to join you. The anticipation of the journey ahead filled you with a mix of excitement and a touch of nervousness. This was your first diplomatic mission in your new role, and though you were confident in your abilities, there was always an element of the unknown when dealing with someone as formidable as Helion.

Azriel arrived shortly, dressed in his usual black attire, his wings tucked neatly behind him. His presence was reassuring, a steady anchor amidst the swirling thoughts in your mind. He carried your travel pack easily, slinging it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

“Ready?” he asked, his gaze softening as it met yours.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

With a final glance at the House of Wind, the two of you took to the skies, Azriel’s powerful wings beating steadily as he carried you across the lands toward the Day Court. The flight was long, but the scenery was breathtaking—rolling hills, dense forests, and sparkling rivers spread out beneath you, a patchwork of Prythian’s diverse landscapes.

As you neared the borders of the Day Court, the air grew warmer, the sunlight more intense. The transition between courts was marked by a change in the landscape, with the lush green of the Night Court giving way to the golden fields and vibrant flowers that characterized Helion’s domain. The Day Court was known for its perpetual sunshine, a stark contrast to the shadows and mystery of the Night Court.

When you finally arrived, the grandeur of the Day Court’s palace took your breath away. It was a sprawling structure of gleaming white marble, with towering columns and wide terraces that overlooked gardens bursting with color. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sound of laughter and music drifted from the open windows. It was a place of light and life, a perfect reflection of the High Lord who ruled it.

Azriel landed gracefully on one of the palace’s terraces, setting you down gently before folding his wings behind him. A pair of Day Court guards approached, their golden armor glinting in the sunlight.

“Lady Y/N, Lord Azriel,” one of the guards said with a respectful bow. “Lord Helion is expecting you. Please, follow us.”

You exchanged a glance with Azriel before following the guards into the palace. The interior was just as magnificent as the exterior, with sunlight streaming through large windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished floors. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of history and legend, and the air was filled with the scent of citrus and jasmine.

The guards led you to a grand hall where Helion was waiting, seated on a large, ornate chair that was less a throne and more a comfortable seat for a man who enjoyed his luxuries. He rose as you entered, a broad smile spreading across his handsome face.

“Y/N, Azriel,” Helion greeted, his voice warm and welcoming. “It’s a pleasure to see you both. Welcome to the Day Court.”

You inclined your head in respect, but before you could say anything, Helion was already crossing the room with that easy, confident stride of his. He took your hands in his, his golden eyes shining with genuine warmth. “Y/N, it feels oddly right seeing you here as an emissary rather than delivering weapons. Although, I must say, your craftsmanship still impresses me every time I hold one of your creations.”

You smiled, appreciating the compliment and the familiarity. “Thank you, Helion. It’s a different role, but one I’m finding I enjoy more than I expected.”

Helion’s smile widened, and he gestured for you and Azriel to sit. “Indeed. You seem well-suited to it. I always knew there was more to you than just a talented blacksmith.”

Azriel, ever vigilant, took a seat beside you, his gaze never wavering from Helion. The High Lord of the Day Court seemed to notice Azriel’s protective demeanor, and a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, but he said nothing of it.

The negotiations that followed were intense but cordial. Helion was every bit the shrewd negotiator you had expected, his mind sharp as he navigated the terms of the proposed alliance. You discussed the mutual exchange of resources, with Helion offering access to the Day Court’s extensive libraries and magical artifacts in exchange for some of the Night Court’s innovations and expertise.

The joint military training exercises were also a point of discussion, with Helion expressing interest in strengthening the ties between your forces. He saw the benefit of learning from each other, particularly in a time when the other courts were constantly shifting their alliances and power dynamics.

“You’ll find that the Day Court’s warriors are formidable,” Helion said with a glint in his eye. “But there’s always room for improvement. I believe our forces could learn much from each other.”

Cassian’s earlier thoughts echoed in your mind as you nodded. “I agree. A strong alliance between our courts, both militarily and culturally, would benefit us all.”

The conversation then shifted to the cultural exchange, with Helion suggesting visits between the courts’ scholars, artists, and musicians. He seemed genuinely excited at the prospect of bringing more art and culture into his court, and the idea of fostering deeper connections between your people resonated with him.

“We have much to offer each other,” Helion mused, leaning back in his chair. “Not just in terms of knowledge and power, but in understanding and friendship. That’s something we can’t put a price on.”

As the day wore on, the negotiations continued, with both sides making concessions and adjustments. Helion was a skilled negotiator, but so were you, and by the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, you felt confident that you had laid the groundwork for a strong and mutually beneficial alliance.

Helion stood, signaling the end of the formal discussions. “I believe we’ve made excellent progress today, Y/N. We’ll finalize the details tomorrow, but for now, I’d like to invite you both to join me for dinner. We can continue our discussions in a more relaxed setting.”

You exchanged a glance with Azriel, who gave you a small nod. “We’d be honored, Lord Helion,” you replied.

Helion’s smile was genuine as he led you both toward a dining hall, where a feast had been prepared. The atmosphere was lighter, the tension of the negotiations giving way to a more casual and friendly tone. Helion was a gracious host, ensuring that you and Azriel were comfortable and well taken care of.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself enjoying Helion’s company more than you had anticipated. He was charming, yes, but there was also a depth to him, a genuine interest in building something lasting between your courts. The more you spoke with him, the more you realized that this alliance was not just a matter of convenience, but a step toward something greater—a bond that could bring lasting peace and prosperity to both the Night and Day Courts.

As the night drew to a close, Helion raised his glass in a toast. “To new beginnings,” he said, his gaze lingering on you. “May this be the start of a fruitful partnership between our courts.”

You raised your glass in return, feeling a sense of accomplishment and hope for the future. “To new beginnings,” you echoed, your voice firm with conviction.

The night had settled peacefully over the Day Court, and you and Azriel found yourselves in the room Helion had graciously provided for your stay. The space was luxurious yet comfortable, with a large bed draped in soft linens and a balcony that offered a breathtaking view of the golden fields and the distant, twinkling lights of the Day Court’s palace grounds.

You stood on the balcony, leaning against the railing as you took in the view. The air was warm, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of jasmine and citrus. The stars above were bright, unobstructed by clouds, and the moon cast a silver glow over the landscape.

Azriel joined you, his presence quiet and calming as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against his side. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as you both admired the serene beauty of the night.

“It’s beautiful here,” you murmured, your voice soft in the stillness. “So different from the Night Court, but beautiful in its own way.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze sweeping over the horizon. “It is. Helion’s court has its own kind of magic, a warmth and light that’s unique. But…” He paused, glancing down at you with a small smile. “I think I still prefer the shadows and stars of our home.”

You smiled, understanding exactly what he meant. “There’s something about the Night Court that feels… like home. Even after all this time.”

Azriel’s hand gently caressed your back, his touch soothing. “It is home. For both of us.”

The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s presence and the peaceful night. The events of the day—the negotiations, the formalities—seemed distant now, as if they belonged to another world. Here, on this balcony, it was just the two of you, away from the pressures and responsibilities that came with your roles.

After a few moments, Azriel broke the silence. “You handled today exceptionally well, Y/N. Helion’s not an easy person to negotiate with, but you held your own.”

You turned your head slightly to look up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Thank you, Az. I have to admit, it was challenging, but… it felt good. It felt like I was doing something important, something that mattered.”

He nodded, his gaze filled with admiration. “You were. And you did it with such grace and strength. I’m proud of you.”

The sincerity in his voice warmed your heart, and you reached up to place a hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his skin. “I couldn’t have done it without you by my side.”

Azriel’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll always be by your side, no matter what.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for the male who had become such an integral part of your life. “I know. And I’m grateful for that.”

Another comfortable silence settled between you, the two of you simply basking in the tranquility of the moment. The bond between you thrummed with a quiet contentment, a reminder of the connection you shared, one that went beyond words or actions.

After a while, you turned to face Azriel fully, your hands resting on his chest as you looked up at him. “Do you ever think about the future, Az? About what it might hold for us?”

He looked down at you, his expression thoughtful. “I do. More than I ever used to.”

“And?” you prompted, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“And I see us together,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “I see us building a life together, one where we’re both happy, where we continue to support each other and face whatever challenges come our way.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart flutter, and you found yourself leaning up to kiss him softly. “That’s exactly what I see too,” you whispered against his lips.

Azriel smiled against your mouth before deepening the kiss, his hands sliding up to cup your face. The kiss was tender, filled with love and promise, a reflection of the bond you shared. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, but the contentment in your hearts was undeniable.

“Let’s go inside,” you suggested, your voice soft as you took his hand.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you both, the atmosphere shifted, thickening with anticipation. The quiet intimacy of the room, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, only served to heighten the tension that had been building between you all evening. You could feel the heat radiating from Azriel as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible.

His eyes, usually calm and calculating, were dark with desire as they locked onto yours. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t need words to respond. The way you reached for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, said everything you needed to say. With a swift movement, you pulled him closer, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was a clash of tongues and teeth, a desperate need that had been simmering under the surface, now unleashed.

Azriel’s hands found your waist, tugging you against him as if he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between your bodies. The kiss deepened, grew hungrier, more insistent, as if you both were starved for each other. You could feel the hard planes of his chest beneath your fingers as you slid them under his shirt, craving the feel of his skin.

He broke the kiss just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, discarding it carelessly onto the floor. The sight of him, all toned muscle and shadow-kissed skin, made your breath hitch. Before you could fully take him in, his lips were on yours again, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive need.

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying you down with a gentleness that belied the fire burning in his eyes. He followed you down, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and across your collarbone. Every brush of his lips against your skin sent sparks of pleasure through you, making you arch into him. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he hovered over you, his body heat radiating against your skin. The look in his eyes was intense, filled with a hunger that matched your own.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered, his voice rough as he leaned down to kiss along your jawline, trailing down to the sensitive skin of your neck.

You gasped softly at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his dark hair. “I think I’m starting to get the idea.”

Azriel’s hands were everywhere—pushing up your shirt, skimming over your bare skin, as he made quick work of undressing you. Soon, your clothes joined his on the floor, leaving you both bare to each other, every inch of skin tingling with anticipation.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes devouring every inch of you. He hovered above you, his hands framing your face as he kissed you deeply, passionately, his body pressing you down into the soft bed. The feel of him against you, hard and ready, made you ache with need.

Your hands roamed over his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, the scars that marked his skin, each one telling a story of battles fought and won. But right now, all that mattered was this moment, the feel of him, the way he made you feel—desired, cherished, needed.

Azriel’s lips found yours again, his kiss searing and demanding. He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

You gasped as his fingers brushed between your thighs, teasing but not giving you what you desperately craved. “You, Azriel. I want you.”

His eyes darkened with a feral hunger at your words, and with a groan, he positioned himself at your entrance. The anticipation made your heart race, your body tense with need.

Azriel entered you slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to the stretch of him. The sensation was overwhelming, the way he filled you completely, making you feel whole in a way you hadn’t even realized you needed. You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as you arched up to meet him, craving more.

He started moving, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm that made you dizzy with pleasure. Each thrust was deep, controlled, sending waves of sensation through your entire body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing more, needing everything he could give.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained as he fought to maintain control. But you could feel it—the tension coiling within him, the same tension that was building within you, ready to snap at any moment.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you pulled him down for a kiss. It was a messy, desperate kiss, filled with all the emotions you couldn’t put into words. His thrusts became harder, faster, as if he was losing himself in you, in the sensation, in the bond that tied you together.

“Azriel,” you gasped, your voice a breathless plea as you felt your climax approaching, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. “I’m close…”

“Me too,” he rasped, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he drove into you with a fierce, unrelenting need.

The tension snapped, and your climax washed over you in a wave of pleasure so intense it left you trembling. You cried out his name, your body clenching around him as you rode out the aftershocks of your release.

Azriel followed you over the edge moments later, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he buried himself deep inside you, his release flooding through him. He held you close, his body shuddering against yours as he found his own pleasure in you.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The only sounds were your ragged breaths and the pounding of your hearts, beating in sync. Azriel stayed buried inside you, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.

When he finally moved, it was to kiss you again—soft, tender, filled with all the love he had for you. He rolled to his side, pulling you with him so that you were curled against his chest, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, his fingers brushing through your hair.

You nodded, feeling a contentment settle over you as you snuggled closer to him. “I’m perfect, Az.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest as you looked up at him, seeing the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh? Is that so?”

The room was still filled with the heady scent of sex, the warmth of your shared pleasure lingering in the air as you lay curled up against Azriel’s chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, a satisfied hum vibrating from him as he pressed soft kisses to the top of your head. The bond between you thrummed with a deep sense of contentment, but beneath it, there was still a simmering heat, a desire that hadn’t quite been quenched.

You felt it too—a restless need that made you shift against him, your skin tingling with anticipation. Azriel must have sensed the change in you, because his fingers stilled, and he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “What are you thinking?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you pushed yourself up, straddling his hips as you looked down at him, a wicked smile playing on your lips. The way his eyes darkened in response, the way his hands automatically came to rest on your thighs, told you everything you needed to know—he wanted this as much as you did.

Slowly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling his length harden beneath you as you moved. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. Azriel’s grip on your thighs tightened, his gaze locked on yours, a silent plea for more.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he growled, his voice rough with desire.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a teasing kiss. “Then I guess I’ll just have to make it worth it,” you whispered against his mouth.

With that, you reached between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance. The sensation of him pressing against you, hard and ready, made your breath hitch, and you couldn’t resist teasing him a little more, rubbing the head of his cock against your wetness, making him groan in frustration.

“Y/N…” he warned, his voice strained as he fought to keep control.

You smiled, a little triumphant, before you finally sank down onto him, taking him in inch by inch. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you so completely, made your head spin with pleasure. You moaned, your hands braced against his chest as you took a moment to adjust to the fullness of him inside you.

Azriel’s hands moved to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he tried to hold himself still, letting you set the pace. But you could feel the tension in him, the way he was struggling not to thrust up into you, to let you take your time. It was heady, knowing how much control you had in this moment, and it only fueled your desire.

Slowly, you began to move, rolling your hips in a steady rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through both of you. Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his head falling back against the pillows as a low groan rumbled from his chest.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, his voice tight with restraint as he let you ride him at your own pace. “Gods, Y/N…”

You smiled at the praise, the sound of his voice, the way he looked beneath you—completely undone—making you feel powerful, beautiful, desired. You leaned forward, pressing your hands against his chest for leverage as you began to move faster, the friction between your bodies sparking something wild and uncontrollable within you.

Azriel’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his control slipping as he started to meet your movements with upward thrusts of his own. The change in angle made him hit deeper, harder, and you gasped at the intense pleasure that radiated through you with each thrust.

Your rhythm grew faster, more desperate, as you chased the pleasure building inside you. The feeling of Azriel beneath you, his body strong and solid, his cock filling you so perfectly, was almost too much to bear. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Azriel opened his eyes, the dark intensity in his gaze locking onto yours as he thrust up into you, meeting your movements with a ferocity that made you cry out his name. “Y/N… I’m so close.”

You gasped, your movements becoming erratic as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of release. The tension inside you snapped, and your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cried out, your nails digging into Azriel’s chest.

Azriel followed you over the edge, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he found his release, his hands gripping you tightly as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you with his warmth.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop, leaving only the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your hearts in the quiet aftermath. You collapsed against Azriel’s chest, both of you spent and sated, the bond between you humming with contentment.

Azriel wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both caught your breath. The connection between you felt deeper, more intimate, after what you’d just shared, and as you lay there in the quiet of the night, you couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your lips.

Azriel’s arms tightened around you, his voice a soft whisper in the darkness. “And I love you, Y/N. More than anything.”

You stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, savoring the warmth and comfort of being together. And as you drifted off to sleep in Azriel’s arms, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by a love that was as strong as the night itself.

---

tag list: @annamariereads16 @hanatsuki-hime @elsie-bells @shizukestar @rose-girls-world @brit-broskis-cole-fanfic @faridathefairy @elsie-bells @faridathefairy @wolfbc97 @rcarbo1 @kitsunetori @hufflepuff-pa55 @proclivity-for-fantasy-97 @sometimeseverythingsucks @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @lilah-asteria @fightmedraco @atomictyphoonkitten @fightmedraco

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#azriel fic #rhysand #azriel #cassian #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #sword #a court of thorns and roses #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar x you

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alexfromjersey · 1 year

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ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕋𝕨𝕠 | 𝕁𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕆𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕒

Jenna Ortega x Black!Reader

summary: you and jenna have been in a relationship for the past eight years when suddenly everything starts to get rocky.

warnings: mature language, angst, alcohol consumption. cigarette smoking

a/n: by popular demand I give the second part of Cheated. appreciate all the support this got 🫶🏾

“I love you, Luis”

You couldn’t get those words out of your head no matter how hard you tried. It kept echoing in your head like an annoying song stuck on repeat. You’ve tried every method of forgetting by either drowning in alcohol or overtime at work. It only suppressed it for a little while before it clawed back into your brain.

You didn’t know where you went wrong in the relationship. You kept wondering if you did something wrong. What could have you done better? You were stuck with questions with no answers.

You took another sip of whiskey from the glass as you scrolled through the thousands of death threats and hate tweets you got on Instagram and Twitter.

You're used to it though, when you and Jenna first started dating a small portion of fans didn't think you deserved her. You never paid them any mind knowing that they were only upset that they didn't get a chance with her.

jennaortegafanduel: you don’t deserve another peaceful day in your life

mxortega: you attack a man unprovoked how much of a coward are you

guiterriezortega: I told y’all from the beginning that I never liked Y/n. Luis and Jenna were always better looking together

No one knew the truth. The truth as to why you attacked Luis in the first place. No one seemed to care to ask why you did it. They only focused on the fact that their dream man was hurt. Jenna nor Luis's team bothers to put a stop to the narrative being spun.

You had half the mind to leak all the pictures you had to the world. To show them the real Jenna Ortega. But the sensible side of you advised against it.

Eight years down the drain…eight years. Those years didn’t just represent you and Jenna being together. It represented you finally taking back your life after your mother snatched any happiness you felt. It represented a start over and finally experiencing a life and a love you never experienced before.

EIGHT YEARS AGO

“Come on Don put your back into it” You struggled as you and Donny tried to carry a dresser to his apartment.

“I’m trying. This shit is like 200 pounds” Donny grunted as he tried to get a good grip on the furniture.

He was definitely exaggerating about the pounds. But it was heavy as hell. You were helping Donny move into his new apartment downtown. You wanted to be a good friend but you were starting to regret helping out.

“Is it stuck on something?” You grunted.

“No I just can’t get a good grip-wait I got it!” Donny shouted excitedly. He finally got a good grip on the dresser and the two of you finished bringing the dresser inside the apartment.

“Never…again” You stated out of breath.

It was about 7:45 and you and Donny were nowhere near done. You just wanted to return to your comfy bed and finish watching that new Wednesday, Netflix show. It was an addictive show, with the lead actress selling Wednesday Addams really well and in a creative modern way. You grab a box and go to walk back into the apartment when a body collides with you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry" You apologized to the woman.

"No, I should be the one saying I'm sorry, I collided with you," The woman said. You look down at her and you recognize the woman as the actress of the show you're currently watching.

"Oh...you the new Wednesday Addams," You said nonchalantly.

"Guilty" Jenna smiled sheepishly.

"Aye your show is fire except for the love triangle...no offense but it wasn't really needed." You told her.

Jenna chuckled, "Thank you and duly noted. We're scrapping the whole love triangle in the next season anyway."

"Good choice" You stated with a smile and adjusted the box in your hand.

“Moving in?” Jenna asked you, pointing to the box in your hand.

“Nah I’m helping my best friend move his stuff in. I live like 10 minutes away from here” You answered.

Jenna nodded at your answer.

The two of you just stood in front of one another in an awkward silence. You didn't know what else to say to the woman. You were kind of too busy checking her out subtly. She wore something simple: Samba Adidas, an oversized jacket, and some loose-fit jeans. She had her headphones around her neck and a purse around her shoulders.

"Uh...I don't want to take up any more of your time. You have a nice day" You politely smiled and turned to walk away.

"Wait" Jenna called.

You stopped and turned back towards the girl.

"If you're not doing anything tomorrow. There's a new coffee shop that just opened not far from here. You don’t have to say yes or anything I was just wondering if you would like t-”

You smirked at her rambling and placed the box down. You ripped a piece of paper from the box and wrote your number down. “Text me and I’ll meet you there.”

"Okay," Jenna smiled.

PRESENT TIME

Abruptly, you were brought out of your thoughts by a familiar ringtone.

My love ❤️ is calling…

Perfect timing. You had to change that contact name and photo immediately.

It was your first picture together ever, you took Jenna on a date to the fair. You called ahead to at least get two hours of park time before the general public came. It took some money but it was worth it. You weren't a picture person barely having any photos of yourself anywhere but that day the two of you took so many pictures.

You declined the call for the hundredth time in the past week. Ever since you left Jenna at the police station she’s been calling and texting you nonstop.

You place your phone on silent and screen down on the motel bar counter. You’ve been at this motel for the past couple of days. You were staying at Donny’s but you didn’t want to be a burden on him and his family. So you got a motel after much protest from them.

You finished your drink and left the bar. You stepped outside the building for some fresh air and a smoke break.

SIX YEARS AGO

“Smoking kills you know that right?” Jenna commented when she saw you leaning against the building with a cigarette hanging from your lips.

You shrugged, “We all die someday.”

“True but why speed up the process by smoking these cancer sticks,” Jenna said.

“I’m sorry…didn’t you get caught in the media smoking a cigarette with Gideon” You smirked at the girl.

“One time. It was one time. I haven’t done it again especially not after the way my mother embarrassed me on her Instagram stories” Jenna grumbled.

You let out a laugh, you remembered that day. When you saw her mother’s stories you teased Jenna about it for a good week. It was funny but also sweet that her mother was thinking about her health.

“It’s not funny” Jenna mumbled. Her being mad still made you continue to snicker before you gradually stopped.

PRESENT TIME

You finish your cigarette and flick the bud to the ground. You stomp it out and turn to go back inside when you hear a car door shut.

“I’ve been calling you,” A familiar voice said from behind you.

You freeze in your tracks at the sound of her voice that used to make you swoon. You turned around and faced the neutral-faced woman.

“Yeah, I know but what are you calling me for? We ain’t got shit to talk about” You said and placed your hands in your jacket pockets.

“We have a lot to talk about…I want to explain myself” Jenna revealed.

“Whatever you got to say, keep it to yourself” You stated. You turn around and go towards your room when her voice stops you again.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m sorry for everything” Jenna exclaimed, her voice cracking at the end.

You stopped again in your tracks.

“I fucked up severely. I should’ve never cheated on you” Jenna said. Tears were pooling in her eyes.

“Why did you? Why did you cheat?” You asked the millionaire dollar question.

Jenna sighed and shifted on her feet, “Because he was there. I wanted to feel something different. I was tired of being stuck in the same cycle. Going away for months and then coming back home to you working 12-hour shifts, barely getting any attention from you.”

“So to sum it all up, it’s my fault that you cheated” You spoke.

“No, I just-” You interrupted Jenna.

“You just wanted someone that wasn’t me. You wanted someone who could give you all the time and attention that you wanted. Someone who didn’t have to work a regular job to sustain themselves. Someone who could afford to take you to these expensive places. Someone that you wanted to be seen in public with. Someone that was enough for you” Jenna interrupted you.

“That’s not true Y/n” Jenna exclaimed.

“But it is true Jenna. If it wasn’t you wouldn’t have cheated. If you were happy in our relationship, the idea of sleeping with someone else would have disgusted you” You spoke.

Jenna stood in front of you, lost in her own thoughts.

You sniffled, “I told you from the start that I don’t tolerate cheating. There’s no second chance with me if you cheat. My trust in you has dissipated and I don’t know if you’ll ever get it back.”

“Y/n please I’m sorry. We can fix this” Jenna sobbed and grabbed onto you.

You gently tried to push her off you but she had an iron grip on your clothes. She then pulled you down by your jacket and connected your lips together. Salty tears were all you tasted on her lips. For a moment, you felt yourself get lost in her lips.

“I love you” Jenna mumbled on your lips.

Back then she brought you back to reality, you pulled away from her. You managed to get yourself out of her grip.

“I’m gonna come tomorrow to get my clothes and stuff,” You told her and walked into the motel. For the second time, you left her standing there sobbing away.

THREE YEARS AGO

“What’s like your ideal wedding?” Jenna asked you as she cuddled up to your naked side.

“Hmm…I always said that I would like a beach wedding. Have the wedding during the sunset and the reception at a place that has a pool and just vibe for the rest of the night” You answered and rubbed her back.

“Oh, I love a beach wedding. The only problem I got with it is the sand in your shoes” Jenna said.

“No shoes. Easy fix” You shrugged.

“What if they don’t want to have no shoes?” Jenna questioned amused.

“Well, tough tits don’t come” You chuckled. Jenna let out a giggle. The two of you just lay there, cuddled up next to each other in a comfortable silence. Cherishing the warmth of each other you rarely get to feel.

“I love you Y/n” Jenna gushed.

You sat up on your elbows and looked at her with nothing but love and happiness in your eyes. You love this girl like you never loved any other girl before. She was the love of your life and you would do anything for her.

“Baby?” Jenna’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You hummed while still staring at her.

“You okay?” Jenna questioned softly.

You smiled at her and connected your lips to hers, “I’m perfect.” You deepened the kiss by putting all your love into it. You slowly move on top of her, holding your weight up by your palms. Jenna wrapped her legs around your waist pulling you closer.

PRESENT TIME

“Hey Apollo, how you doing boy” You gushed as your dog Apollo jumped on you excited. You brought Jenna a dog for her birthday a couple of years ago. He was a Golden Cocker Retriever (Golden Retriever + Cocker Spaniel).

Apollo nudged you with his nose and licked your face. You chuckled at the excited dog. You stood up and saw Jenna and Gideon at the kitchen counter watching you with Apollo. Gideon had a sympathetic look on her face when she saw you.

“Hey, Gideon” You politely said to the woman.

“Hey Y/n and Donny” Gideon replied to you and Donny.

You ignore Jenna and make your way to your former bedroom. You and Donny start to pack up your clothes in the boxes you brought. You packed up your game, anything you wanted you packed.

Thankfully, Donny had a truck to put everything in even though you didn’t really have a lot of stuff.

As you were loading the last box in the truck, you felt someone watching you. You turn around and see Jenna behind you.

You sighed, “I’m not doing this again Jenna.”

“Can you please just listen to what I have to say?” Jenna pleaded with you.

You sighed and leaned against the truck with your arms crossed.

Jenna nervously played with her fingers, “I know that saying I’m sorry isn’t going to undo what I did or ease the hurt that you’re feeling. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted to feel how I felt when we first got together before my career and your job started getting in the way. And instead of me coming to you and talking to you about how I felt, I went to the first person that gave me what I wanted and I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have accused you of cheating. I shouldn’t have distanced myself. I shouldn’t have done any of it. I wish I could take it all back. I regret everything.”

“Let me ask you if you didn’t get caught, would you still feel guilty?” You asked.

Jenna opened and closed her mouth trying to find the right words to say. You grabbed a small box from your pocket.

“I wanted to marry you. I wanted to have kids with you. I wanted to grow old with you. I never felt love like I did with you. As much as I would like to fix this and move past it…I can’t. I can’t do it because every time I look at you…I just see you and him together” You said and grabbed her hand. You then placed the box in her hand.

“Despite what happened I’ll always love you but we can’t be together anymore” You kissed her on the forehead and gave her hand a tight squeeze. You then hopped into the truck with Donny in the passenger seat.

Jenna looked down at the small box in her hand. With shaky hands, she opened it to reveal a diamond engagement ring. She covered her mouth as sobs escaped. She felt Gideon hold onto her as they watched the truck you were in disappear around the corner.

It confirmed to Jenna that she’s lost you forever.

a/n: sooooooooo i went through like seventeen different versions of this lmao but i hope you guys enjoyed it. I'm gonna go rage on call of duty now :)

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x black!reader #jenna ortega x you #Spotify

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male-body-swap-lover · 11 months

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Becoming the Old Man Next Door

Carter Austin was annoyed that he had to be home for his parents 30th wedding anniversary. The model was only in town for one night, and even that was too much. He hated Fairview and missed the fast life of New York. The 28-year-old was one of the hottest models on the scene and couldn’t believe he was wasting his weekend in his childhood bedroom.

Hon, we are so excited that you are home. We’ve missed you.

You know how busy I’ve been mom. I’m one of the hottest models. I’m constantly booked.

I know. We told Mr. Jarvis that you were coming home and he was so excited to see you.

Mom, I’m 28. I don’t want to go see our old neighbor.

Oh, just do it Carter. It’ll make him happy. He’s lonely. His wife has been dead for 20 years and he has no children. Just do it.

Fine.

I went next door and rang the doorbell. Mr. Jarvis answered the door. I forgot how fat he was.

Austin my boy. So good to see you. Come in come in. Sit down. I’ll get you a drink.

As I sat in his living room, I looked around at his depressing life. The room seemed straight out of the 1970’s, and it reeked of tobacco. 15 minutes. That’s all I need.

Here’s a coke. So, tell me about New York.

It’s fun. I travel the world. I’m one of the top models out there.

I know. I’ve followed you. You are quite the good-looking young men. I bet ladies throw themselves at you.

I get my fair number of women. And men. I don’t discriminate.

I wish I had your life. My life was always boring. And it’s been worse ever since Marian died. I live a lonely life.

Well not everyone can have my life. This coke tastes weird.

That’s because it’s not coke at all. It’s a special potion. You see Carter, I’m tired of being an old man who never did anything with his life. I want a life in the fast lane. So, I am going to steal yours.

What. That’s not possible

I stand up and try to move, but I can’t. It’s like I am frozen in place.

Carter, look in the mirror. Can’t you see the changes have already begun.

As I stared into the mirror, I could see the wrinkles start appearing on my face. Suddenly I started breathing heavier as I felt myself get older. I ran my hands through my hair and it came out in chunks in my hand. I tried to run, to get out, but couldn’t move. My skin was aging. I could feel my youth leaving my body. Passing 30. All of my hair fell out. Passing 40. Stubble appeared on my face. Then it stopped. I looked in the mirror. Damn. I’m fucking old, but I’m fucking hot.

Haha old man. I’m still fucking hot. Look at me. Your plan failed.

You aren’t very smart are ya Carter. That was just step one.

Step one! I turned to him and saw that somehow his hair had grown back in and he looked middle aged. It’s like my hair and age went to him!

Yes, there are three steps. Let’s start step number two.

With that he clapped his hands and suddenly I felt bloated. My stomach was starting to rumble. I looked in the mirror and my face was bubbling. Suddenly it felt like I was blowing up like a balloon. 10, 20, 50, 100, 150, 200 pounds of fat just suddenly appeared on my body. For some reason as I grew, my clothes grew with me.

I was a whale. No one would ever recognize me. It was absolutely disgusting. I used to make fun of people who looked like this. Now I was one of them. I turned and looked at my captor. He looked good. He was so skinny. It’s like all of his weight transferred to my body! He was hot! I was so jealous. Wait he said this was step two, what was step three going to be?!

Damn, I never even looked this good when I used to be in my 40’s. This is amazing. I bet you are wondering about step three. Well, I suppose it’s time to start the final step. Get ready to say goodbye to any remaining part of your old life.

A wave suddenly washed over me. I could feel the life force draining from my body. My facial hair was turning white. My back pain was killing me. I could feel pain everywhere in my body. Arthritis. But I’m only 28. What is happening. I didn’t even think this was possible.

I’m Marvin Jarvis. Wait what! No I’m not Marvin… I’m um….i’m um. What is going on. It’s like I am losing my memories.

What are you doing to me. Why can’t I remember my name. Why do I think I’m you.

Because, Marvin, that’s part of step three. I become you and you become me. We might not look exactly the same, but the world will change to suit us. Why don’t you look at your license.

I could barely reach my wallet. I pulled out my driver’s license. It still said Carter Austin, and then it changed. Marvin Jarvis. 81 years old. 375 pounds. I looked at the photo and then at my reflection in the mirror. There was the same old man. Me!

You’ll never get away with this.

I already have. Your old memories will continue to slip away until you become Marvin Jarvis. Meanwhile, I’ll get your memories and live out my life again. A world-famous model. Carter Austin. My life is set.

Suddenly my mom entered the house.

Hello Marvin. I just came to get Carter. Dinner is ready.

I wanted to scream out. To tell my mom what happened. All that came out was “Of course Karen. It was lovely seeing Carter again. What a fine man he has become.”

Mom, I am just going to hug Mr. Jarvis goodbye and then I’ll be home.

Okay. See you soon honey. Goodbye Marvin.

The new Carter came and hugged me. Good luck Mr. Jarvis. You’ll need it. Don’t forget to take your heart pills, and back pills, and all the other pills. Don’t drive at night. Also, your social security check barely covers basic living expenses. Haha. Better get one last look at me. This is the last time you’ll see me. I’m never coming back to this hodunk town.

I started crying as the new Carter Austin left. He may not have looked exactly like me, but what does it matter. The world believes he is Carter and I am Marvin.

I sat down because my knees were giving out. I tried to remember everything about my old life, but I could feel it slipping away. I’m trapped. There is nothing I can do. You know what sounds good right now. A good pipe. I wonder if NCIS is on. 6:30pm. Almost time for bed. Well, maybe being an old man isn’t going to be so bad after all.

#male body swap #age regression #age progression #old to young #male body theft #identity theft #young to old #weight gain #body switch

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rancidpancakebatter · 1 year

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Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter Three

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen didn't go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Peter isn't Spider-Man and Norman isn’t dying, the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record, so Peter and Harry are besties.

Prompt: Based on an ask for my 200 Follower celebration

Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: Swearing, Implications of sex

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As you walk in, Peter can tell that you are clearly irritated. You move stiffly, and your brows are furrowed slightly. To anyone else, they may believe you were just thinking about something, but Peter knew you really well.

He met you about four years ago in the campus library. It was finals, and the building was packed with students pulling out their hair and silently sobbing at tables crowded with colourful worksheets and laptop charging cables. He had almost tripped over you, walking through the shelves on the third floor. You were hunkered down in the 150s of the Dewy Decimal System. Papers and textbooks were fanned out around you, and you typed away on your laptop, oblivious to the world as a soft melody spilled from your wired earbuds.

Your head shot up when you noticed a foot land on a piece of paper before quickly hopping off, but still leaving a large, dirty footprint on your notes. You pulled out your headphones and looked up, ready to use all of your pent-up frustration and stress to rip the offender a new one, but before you could even start, his panic started spilling out.

“Oh, Jesus. I’m so so sorry. Shit, uhhh lemme just…” He picked up your notes and tried to wipe them off, but the dirt just smeared. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. You can have mine.”

The boy standing above you was tall, his curls flopping over as he moved his head around. You could tell he was lanky under his layered shirts and baggy jeans. He was pretty. You blinked a few times, breaking your train of thought to focus on what he said.

“Are you taking Intro to Psychology?” You asked.

His face reddened slightly, “...No.”

You quirked an eyebrow at the strange man. “Then how could I borrow your notes?”

His mouth opened and closed a few times before a dry chuckle left his lips. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

Your irritation melted at the sight of this awkward man. He obviously didn’t mean any harm, and it’s not like your notes were ruined, just dirty.

“What’s your name?”

“Parker- er, I mean Peter.”

You laugh at his uncertainty.

“Did you get a concussion on the way over here?” you tease.

Again, the man flushes, “No.”

“So which is it?” You ask, “Parker or Peter?”

He blinks a bit, pulling a face like he’s trying to solve a riddle, “Both.”

“You’re name is Parker Peter?” You ask, your confusion only building.

He buried his head in his hands, shaking it side to side, then pulls his hands away and sighs.

“Can we start over?” You nod your head, and he does a little spin, reappearing with a smile splitting his face. “Hi, I’m Peter Parker, and I’m so sorry for stepping on your notes and then making it worse by smudging everything and being incredibly awkward.”

You chuckle, then tell him your name.

“Cool, well, it was nice to meet you (Y/n). I’ll leave you alone forever now.”

He turns to walk away, but you call after him. He turns with a look of surprise on his face.

“You can join me if you want. There’s not many places left to study, and if you’re working, it’ll keep me from getting on my phone.”

Peter smiles at you and takes you up on the offer. You sit in silence for about two hours before Peter gets a phone call. You are only mildly annoyed by the interruption, and Peter looks embarrassed to have disturbed the peace. He gives a “Harry” directions to find him and begins packing up his stuff.

A few minutes later, you noticed a shadow cast over you and looked up to see crystal blue eyes. You hold each other’s gaze for a moment before he finally speaks.

“Hi, I’m looking for a really annoying know-it-all with a skateboard.”

His smile gleamed in the light as he stood over you in a well-tailored dress shirt and slacks.

“Hey! I’m right here, asshole.” Peter exclaimed.

The polished man only broke his eyes away from you then, walking around you and looking to Peter with a teasing smirk. “Oh! Hey Pete. Sorry, I didn’t see you past this beautiful woman.”

Peter slugs him in the arm, and they hug.

Boys, you think as you roll your eyes.

“And this ‘beautiful woman’,” Peter says, “is (Y/n). I stepped on her notes and then made a complete fool of myself. She took pity on me and let me study here.”

You stand as graciously as you can with your left foot asleep. “Yeah, he even offered to replace my notes for a class he doesn’t take.”

Harry laughs, and then his eyes roam over your body. It’s a quick scan, but it makes your heart race.

“Psychology?” He asks.

You look between them, a little surprised. Peter matched your expression. “Yeah, Intro. How’d you know?”

“You hunkered down in the physiology section,” The blond says with a coy smile, “...and I think I’ve seen you in class before. Room 3304 with Professor Markle, right?”

You confirm his memory, and he extends his hand to you. “I’m Harry.”

That day you formed a little study group. You agreed to meet at the campus coffee shop on Wednesdays. You met Gwen, who seemed really nice- albeit a little too put together. You guys all got closer, and you brought up the idea of trying different coffee shops until you found one you all liked.

That summer, you discovered Cafè Luna, Harry’s last name and its significance, about Gwen’s dreams of studying abroad, and that Peter had really good taste in music. You guys would get together and have Harry get you into different bars to see the local shows and drink. Eventually, it became just your and Peter’s thing, as Gwen wasn’t big into the music, and Harry couldn’t get behind the whole “eat the rich” message as much as he wanted to.

Slowly you grew to be very close with Peter. You began to confide in him, and he, you. You learned about how his uncle had passed, and that it was just him and his aunt. You told him about growing up in Brooklyn. You were invited to Hannukah and Birthday dinners. May also had a Christmas dinner, and Harry kissed you under the mistletoe after months of heavy flirting. It was a good year.

And now, Three years later, Peter knew better than anyone when you were peeved. Especially when you dramatically plopped into your chair next to his, letting your bag drop to the floor next to you. Peter also knew that asking you what was wrong was dangerous. Sometimes you snapped, denying there was any problem at all, or you would rant for hours on end (that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but regardless) until you were blue in the face. And with your arms crossed firmly across your chest, he thought it would be more of a snapping response.

He also knew that there were a lot of things that could cause your sour mood. Sometimes it was a simple fix, like a greasy cheeseburger or a walk in the park, but sometimes it was much more complicated. He sincerely hoped it was a simple fix.

“Hey, Led Head.” He tried, testing the waters. This was a nickname he gave you because you love Led Zeppelin.

“Hey, Pete,” You said with a slight bite, but it didn’t feel directed at him. You could’ve been explaining the difference between fettuccine and fusilli, and the chill would remain the same.

“How’s your day goin’?” His Queens’ accent dripped into his words.

He didn’t miss the sarcasm in your “Swell, how’s yours?”

“Eh, can’t complain,” Peter shrugged, tapping his pencil on his desk, “but it looks like you can.”

Just then the professor walked in, and any remark you could have made was silenced as you all tuned into the upcoming lecture.

You try your best to focus on taking notes, but Peter notices the way you’re constantly fidgeting, one hand scribbling and the other tugging on your shirt, your skirt, your socks, etc. This goes on for the whole duration of the lecture, and after watching it go on for thirty minutes, Peter can’t stand it anymore.

You feel a nudge at your arm and look up to see Peter hunched over his desk, leaning in towards you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You huff slightly, annoyed and not wanting to get into it right now. You still had another hour left of class, and you just wanted to get through it.

“Come on, Heartbreaker,” Peter said, charm skating off his tongue. He was pulling out the big guns now. Calling in the “this nickname always makes you feel special, but only certain people can use it, and I’m one of them” nickname. This was a nickname he gave you because you loved Led Zeppelin, that song specifically. “You know better than to try and lie to me.”

Your shoulders deflate as you give in.

“I’m just…uncomfortable.” you settle on.

Peter props his head on his hand dramatically, waiting for you to expand.

“I had a sweater, but now it’s stained– probably forever– with my latte that I didn’t get to finish this morning, and my breakfast is probably still sitting in the middle of the road covered with tire tracks, and my tits are out, and my clothes are tight, and it’s cold, and I feel like I can’t breathe!” You harshly whispered all in one breath.

Peter stifled a laugh, and you slugged him in the arm, now unable to suppress your general irritation any longer.

“Alright, alright,” He says, pushing you away slightly.

“We can get you some food and caffeine after class, but for now,” He pulls off his jacket and hands it to you. “You can wear this.”

You gladly take it, and as soon as you bring it over your shoulders, you’re almost overwhelmed by the smell of his cologne seeping into the fabric. You take an unashamed, long sniff.

“Peter, what cologne do you use? This smells fucking amazing.”

Peter doesn’t answer, just shaking his head with a quiet laugh.

“Seriously,” You say more to yourself than your desk mate, “I need to get Harry some of this stuff.”

You turn your head and see him giving you an “I can’t believe you,” look- a “You say the darndest things” look- and you start snickering. In turn, Peter also starts snickering. This exchange compounds exponentially until you’re both swallowing down full bellows of laughter. Your hand is over your mouth as a few choked snorts seep through the cracks of your fingers. Peter’s fist is pressed firmly against his lips, trying to seal the leak of laughter.

“Excuse me.” Your heads raise, and the laughter in your throat dies at the pointed glare from your professor. “If you’re done flirting, I’d like to continue my class.”

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you as you sank into your seat and pull Peter’s hoodie tighter around you, as if to hide. Peter mumbled out a sorry, seemingly just as embarrassed as you. Your professor looked as if she was holding back an eye roll before turning back to the rest of the room, and continuing her lecture.

You weren’t flirting. Of course you weren’t. And certainly not with Peter, one of your best friends and the best friend of your boyfriend since childhood. And he definitely wasn’t flirting with you. He was in a happy relationship with his high school sweetheart, who was truly an amazing girl- even if you two weren’t particularly close. The mere notion of you two flirting is laughable, improbable, and downright preposterous.

You refused to look anywhere other than the screen your professor projected her slideshow on. You couldn’t focus on the presentation she had no doubt slaved over. You could see from your peripheral Peter looking over at you. You couldn’t meet his gaze.

You were consumed by a tight feeling in your chest and a thought that made you sick. It was just there for a moment; it didn’t mean anything. It flashed across your mind the same way a “That’s a cool shirt” or “Do we need eggs?” might, but you felt guilty regardless.

I want Peter to flirt with me.

It rang through your head- echoing and shattering the contents within. Your hand reached up towards your neck, where a thin ‘H’ rested above your heart. The metal felt warm to the touch; the edges feel sharp enough to slice your skin.

I want Peter to flirt with me.

You didn’t, obviously. That would be weird. It would ruin your friendship. It would ruin your relationship. You didn’t see Peter like that. Sure, he was pretty, and smart, and kind, and a tried and true “momma’s” boy, but you were never into him. And you’re not now.

You took the jacket because he’s your friend. And as your friend, he offered it to you. To make you feel better, because that’s what friends do. They help each other and make sure they’re comfortable. And you were laughing because Peter made a silly face. And it’s funny when you’re friends make a silly face. It meant nothing more. Your professor called it flirting because she was upset, annoyed. Not because it looked like flirting. Not because anyone thought you were flirting. You certainly didn’t. And Peter obviously didn’t think so either. Because he wouldn’t do that. Because you’re just friends.

The kind of friends that would force the other to sit down at a diner nearby because they have the best burger in town. And he’s completely right. Nothing in this world compares to Benny’s Burger Palace.

You've probably seen a place like it though- a retro diner with rounded chrome trimmings on all the counters and tables. Checkered tiling, slightly yellowed from the years. Red, patched booths with the softest cushioning and well-worn vinyl. Benny’s got great shakes, is open twenty-four hours, and always sells breakfast. But they also sell- you guessed it- burgers.

Benny had unfortunately passed away in the eighties. But since then, his son had taken over- Lenny- and the recipe was well preserved. Lenny was a big man with a shiny bald head, and a black apron folded in half and tied around his waist. He was always at the grill with a bright smile readied for every customer and a deep laugh that rattles through your chest. He recognized you guys as soon as you walked in and immediately threw some patties on the grill, telling you, “Your booth is open.”

Your smile was lukewarm, though still appreciative. Lenny, of course, didn’t notice a difference. Peter did. You hadn’t said much since earlier when your professor called you out. You were very vocal, with your joy and your rage, so your near-silent brooding was nerve-wracking. The last time you were this quiet, you disappeared for a few days, then returned with bangs and a new tattoo. Then there was the breakdown a month later that resulted in you breaking up with Harry for two months. Neither of you liked to bring it up, and if anyone asked, you guys had been dating for three years. Peter didn’t even know why you had broken up. He just knew that you were mad, and you ended it.

He had tried several times to spark a conversation with you and was confused as each attempt failed. You met each statement with a half-interested grunt or hum. And now he sat across from you while you played with your sleeves and stared out the window.

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sighed, knowing he was eventually going to ask. You were never very good at hiding when you were in a bad mood. And your mood had worsened since that interruption in the classroom. Peter was your friend, but you realised you didn’t want to tell him what was on your mind- especially when you didn’t know what it meant.

“Yeah, I think I just needed to eat something.”

Peter didn’t quite believe you but accepted the answer, for now.

“And some caffeine?” He offered.

You gave him a small smile and nodded your head. Peter immediately flagged down your waitress to order a pot of coffee.

She returned with a youthful pep in her step, ponytail bobbing and smile gleaming. Her eyes never left Peter as she dropped off the coffee and a small bowl overflowing with creamer, and then she reached across the table to move the sugar towards him. Peter politely thanks her, and she hangs around for a few awkward moments before she finally moves onto another table.

You reach for the (single) mug she brought to the table, tucking your knees up to your chest as you fix your coffee. Once satisfied, you take a sip, the warmth travels from the inside out, and you can tell it’s a strong brew from just a small taste.

You finished your first cup in silence, which was only broken now, by Peter, as you struggled to open more creamer cups.

“So…is there something particular bogging you down…or is it just…a bad day?”

You pause in your stirring, thinking through the best answer.

“Norman stopped by, unannounced, for dinner last night.”

You took a sip, feeling validated by Peter’s sympathetic wince.

You told him all about him ogling you and every passive-aggressive (and not-so-passive) insult he threw your way. You told him about the fundraiser and the fit he threw over the food you had made. When you got to the “Adult Film” comment, Peter interjected.

“Yikes! What did Harry say?”

Your face twisted like you had eaten something sour, and in a way, it felt like you had. As you spoke, you felt the bitter taste the words left on your tongue. You cleared your throat, making sure to “speak with your chest.”

“He didn’t say anything. He watched the food for me so I could go upstairs and change.”

Peter made a face of disgust, but just then your overly bubbly server returned. She placed each burger in front of you, and you ignored that Peter received more fries than you. Again, she tried to speak a little while longer, trying to ignite a conversation not realising she was trampling over the coals already set ablaze.

You took a bite from your burger and you can taste the love and history seared in. As juice starts to trickle between your fingers, you get lost in this perfectly flavoured, flame-grilled patty. It’s so good you could eat it plain. But you don’t because you’re not a psychopath that eats plain patties.

You’re so lost in your delicious burger that you don’t see the distracted way in which Peter is picking at his fries. There’s a question hanging from his slightly pouted lips; confusion resting on his brow. He lets you enjoy a few bites before eventually he decides that he did hear you right and that he needed clarification.

“Wait…Harry didn’t say anything?”

You shook your head no as you swallowed your bite.

“He didn’t say anything?” Peter asked again.

You nodded your head, quickly grabbing a napkin to wipe and cover your mouth.

“What do you say to that? ‘Hey! Don’t say that!’” You scoff, “Like Norman would listen.”

Peter gave you a sad look before muttering a “Yeah, I guess,” before encouraging you to go on. You told him about the rest of the night (or at least the rest of Norman’s stay), before skipping to this morning. You told him about the outfit conundrum and the coffee-breakfast fiasco and when you finished, Peter let out a sigh, letting your words wash over him.

“Damn,” he finally said, “That sucks.”

You hummed an “mh-hm” as you bit into your burger, then insisted that he share about his day around a mouthful of cheddar, beef, tomato, lettuce, and some in-house sauce you desperately wanted the recipe to, but knew you would never get.

As you ate, Peter told you all about how Gwen is getting ready for England- about how stressful it is to get her ready in just six weeks. But also how sad it is knowing that one of his favourite people would soon be living in a different country for a year, and the best he could do was visit.

He told you about how he needed to find a roommate, and he was considering Ned, someone he met at the Bugle, who was apparently pretty cool. He told you about his nightly phone call with May, which was funny, to you, because they saw each other all the time. Seriously. If Peter wasn’t home or at work, he was with May: helping her out with groceries, with the laundry, or fixing anything that squeaked in the house. It was really sweet.

Peter then starts talking about other things, and you chew along as you follow his train of thought down every broken track and blindsiding curve. You honestly feel a lot better with food in your stomach. You forget just how hangry you can get.

But as helpful as that burger was, you knew it was the company you shared that made you feel better. Peter Parker had once again worked his magic, and you felt loads better. He’s making you smile and laugh, helping you forget all the shitty hours before now. Time is now at a standstill. There’s nothing here but you and Peter, in your own little world.

You feel a nudge at your foot and Peter wears a face of faux-indignation. You make your own face that reads, “What do you want?”

Peter fights back a smile, “You weren’t listening.”

You swallow your bite, “Yes I was, you were talking about your essay on some bacteria in the metabolism.”

“No,” he says kicking your foot again, “I was talking about the differences between Acrocanthosauruses and Carcharodontosauruses, but you were too lost in your burger to care.”

He breathes a dramatic sigh, imitating “every woman in a period piece ever” and the very reason he refuses to watch any of them with you. You smack his foot, breaking him from his false wallowing.

“Was there a reason you were ranting about dinosaurs again?”

Peter returns the smack with a kick of his own.

“Well, you would know that I was studying prehistoric plants in my botany class right now if you were a good friend.”

His words hold no ire, instead, they are spoken in a nasally, mocking tone. You kick him back, defending yourself anyway.

“I am a good friend! I’m paying for lunch and letting you rant about dinosaurs uninterrupted.”

Peter kicked your foot again with dramatically furrowed brows but a smile he couldn’t hold back, “I give you dinosaur lessons for free. You should be grateful for all that I share.”

You return the kick, “I am! I loved last week’s lesson on cephalopods-”

“The Nautiloids, specifically.” Peter corrects, swatting at your foot again, “Cephalopods include a lot of things, such as squids, octopi, and cuttlefish.”

You roll your eyes at Peter’s triumphant grin. With no whitty remarks left you smack his foot again, this time a little harder, and stick out your tongue. Peter takes that as a declaration of war, and soon, a game of footsie breaks out. Towards the end of it, your pumping both of your legs as if biking while Peter does the same.

You call a truce when Peter notices the waitress coming back over. Her uniform had changed since you first walked in. Now she wore her hair down, the chestnut waves falling over her shoulders. Her apron was folded over, much like Lenny’s, and her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show she had cleavage without really showing it.

“Hey, just wanted to check on you.” She says through a smile with way too much teeth, to Peter. Not you. She has only been looking at Peter, this whole time, who is of course, oblivious.

“I think we’re ready for the check.” You say shortly.

The girl doesn’t say anything, just nods her head and promises to be right back. You pull out your wallet, card ready for when she returned. She passed the check to Peter when she returned, once again, ignoring you completely. Peter made a confused face before passing it to you. While you filled out the receipt the waitress tried once again to drum up conversation.

“I’m Margot, by the way.” she stutters out.

Peter is polite as ever, offering his name and his hand to shake.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard you talking about dinosaurs.” You notice the way she’s leaning forward, all but shoving her boobs in Peter’s face. “I just think they’re so cool. What’s your favourite one?”

You felt an anger rise within you. Margot looked to be a few years younger than you, maybe eighteen or nineteen. She’s young and pretty and way too obvious. Couldn’t this girl just leave you guys alone? Were you just fucking invisible? Why couldn’t you just talk to your friend in peace?

Before sweet, oblivious Peter could answer her, you snap, “He’s taken.”

The young woman looks at you with a sort of horror on her face as she straightens back up. She looks between you guys a few times as her cheeks begin to redden.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t realise-”

“No, not by me!” You almost shout.

You want to slam your head against the wall. Why is it that everyone thinks you’re a couple, or want to be? Is being friends so crazy?

“Just in general. He has a girlfriend.” You lamely explain. “Who isn’t me, but is very real.”

She looks at you with a look that could be confusion but you take it as disbelief.

“...okaayyy…” she says as she awkwardly steps away from the booth. You fell back against the cushioned seat, sipping on your coffee as you avoided Peter’s wide eyes. You couldn’t avoid his laugh though. He very obviously thought your behaviour was hilarious. In fact, he voiced just how funny it was that you “defended his honour.” That you chased off the waitress he was too oblivious to notice was flirting with him, all on his behalf.

“You pulled a ‘me’ at the bar!” he choked out between gasps of laughter, clutching his stomach as he fell deeper and deeper into the seat of the booth, referring to all the times he’s had to step in when a guy just couldn’t take a hint.

You didn’t say anything, just stomped his foot under the table until he got the message. You weren’t truly cross with him, merely embarrassed. But Peter got that, because he always did.

And you were always grateful for that. Especially now as your walking Peter back to class as he tells you all about the dinner May is planning next weekend. She was making a five-course dinner to celebrate Gwen getting into Oxford and was super excited about it. It warmed your heart to hear Peter’s impression of his Aunt as she insisted all of his friends were in attendance.

“Seriously dude,” Peter says with wild eyes and a finger pointed in your face, “you have to be there, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You swat his hand away with a laugh and check his shoulder as you walk across the street, and passed the library. Peter laughs along with you and he’s happy to see you feel a lot better.

Your smile is back and radiant, and your sass has returned. Along with that twinkle in your eye, the setting sun makes your irises glitter like river stones. There’s a slight rosiness to your cheeks from Jack Frost’s ruthlessness in these November days. And Peter was tracing the constellations he found on your face- mesmerized by the fables they told.

Halfway through the story of when you stopped believing in Santa Claus, you got a call and both of your wonderment was broken. You can see the health and science building in front of you. But you feel it. A force that pulls you. Like a marionette on a string, you pull your phone from your pocket.

“It’s Harry.”

You don’t know why you sound so sad when you say it. You didn’t mean to say it like that. Through a dead sigh and slumped shoulders. With a subtle drag at the corners of your mouth and a tightness in your chest. But you do feel bad, for not being excited to talk to him. You should be.

You tuck your phone back in your pocket, deciding that you just like spending time with Peter, your friend, and you haven’t gotten to do that often. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to your boyfriend, you’re not avoiding him, you just didn’t want to say goodbye to Peter just yet.

“He can wait,” You say more for yourself than Peter, but you feel like you’ve made the right decision as his smile stretches across his face.

Peter beams and gives you a small thank you as you continue to walk Peter up the stairs. Once to the top, you stand across from one another, just smiling. You wrap your arms around your friend and he returns the favour. You bid him farewell, promising to see him next weekend and he promises to text you later.

You can’t fight the smile on your face. Not when you open your phone again to see four missed calls and two text messages from Harry. Not when you pick up the phone and he lightly scolds you for not answering. Not as he tells you he has the driver circling around the campus because he got out of work early, and wanted to surprise you by picking you up. You can’t fight it when you finally get in the back seat.

Harry grabs at the side of your neck once you’ve settled and pulls you closer to lay a strong kiss on your cheek.

“Did you have a good day?” He asks.

You can’t help but laugh as you tell him that you actually had a terrible day, “But I got lunch with Peter and that made up for a lot of it.”

Harry agreed, “Ole Petey Boy can turn any day around.”

You laughed along, “He sure can. It’s a gift.”

Before you can tell him what went wrong in your day, Harry is telling you about the amazing breakthrough they had at oscorp with a regenerative plant species. You don’t quite understand what he’s saying, but you know it’s good because of how excited he’s getting. And it’s rare to see him express excitement.

He stops talking and looks to you for a response. You gasp, then tell him all about how amazing he is and how smart he is. He smirks, thanking you but trying not to let you see the compliments inflating his ego in real time.

In an attempt to not look so big-headed, he said, “Well, I couldn’t have done it without my researchers- Gwen included. Which reminds me…My father wants to host another gala next weekend, to promote our breakthrough and announce the Marathon.”

Suddenly everything is bad again and you wish life would give you some kind of warning before your neck breaks from the whiplash. Harry notices the way your face falls and offers you comfort in his arms. You curl up against his chest as he absent mindly strokes your hair.

“I’m sorry dear,” he offers, “I know you don’t like the Galas.”

“No, No, it’s not that,” you say with a sigh. “It’s just….May wanted to have this dinner, for Gwen, and she really wanted all of us there. And I promised I would.”

You rest your chin against his chest, batting your eyelashes over your hopeful gaze.

“I’m sorry dear, I’ll be sure to send her flowers and a nice Piedmont.”

Your hopes are dashed. It seems you're going to a gala instead of a Parker family (and friend) dinner.

Tag List: @actuallypeterparker, @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy @cherriescherriesred25, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

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letsbehonestjootnes · 4 months

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Can you believe we go from 3.1M views to 751K views the first 24 hours.

Damn, If this is how you all gonna treat a pre-release, I don’t want to know for the actual album!!

Usually views increase with every release, year by year, but with Mark or NCT in general they’ve been decreasing, idk why?!?

I guess CHILD won’t be defeated, at least this year, I kinda like how nctzens are slowly ignoring YouTube views, but I’m also intrigued why? I’m assuming it’s just because this is a single and they’ll be more interested on the album next year!

My honest opinion about 200, it’s not a bad song, I like the lyrics better than GH, the video it’s nice, I feel the inspiration from Spider man it’s noticeable, I like how he keeps on singing in Korean and not just releasing an average English track, it’s funny/cringy how he dances to the song! 🤣 he really likes it!! Also I like how he put aside the 🍆 joke this time!! It was so annoying last year!

Aside from that this kinda of songs are m not for me, his solos have been too hetero, and I feel he’s trying so hard to appeal and seek for the female acceptance (average male behavior I guess 🤣), so I wasn’t really excited for this, it’s not bad just a little MEH! For me

He kinda play the safe way, nothing we haven’t seen before 🤷🏽‍♂️

#I dkn why #but I like him so much but I kinda dislike his solo work #I’m losing interest on his solo music year by year #and is it me or SM solos have been so average bad #like nothing memorable or groundbreaking #kpop #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #mark #mark lee #child #200 #solo #kmusic #nct u

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the-bjd-community-confess · 7 months

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i’m the same anon who confessed abt dxg1rly not sending my dolls for almost a year exactly, mod if u see this before my other one apologies for any confusion haha. tldr/summary: i believed in dxg1rly, bought a full 3D doll when she said she was gonna stop selling dolls + desperately needed cash last year.

anyway she keeps putting off bc now she’s out of boxes ig, and before she accidentally ruined the doll after finishing sanding but never sent pics, and at this point she keeps being like yeah i’ll send it next week!! it’s all finished i promise!! at least 3 times within the past FOUR weeks. she says she so behind but what keeps annoying me is she keeps making and printing more dolls and selling them in the meantime, when I know she’s behind on other dolls bc my friend recently also fell for her and bought a few dolls and keeps getting strung along. i wasn’t annoyed until my friend started getting mad because hes more assertive. and now im realising that my support means nothing, if she cant deliver, because i’m supporting someone who isnt reliable.

anyway what sparked that is because she posted about low sales at one point, then she was out of money after buying boxes, and then her bf is going to be layed off or something i guess. and now she’s printing a million dolls and sculpting more and talking about selling dolls for buying probably another h@ru doll.

anyway some people HAVE gotten their dolls. mines was a 3D print on sale so i think like $200 in USD. my friend got casted, 2 3D prints, and a garage kidt. 3D prints & garage kit are way over due at this point but not as much as me. :/

so take this info with a pinch of salt, if you want to buy. i don’t say she is a bad person, but i am not a happy customer for her. Btw i DO like her sculpts. this is nothing against her artistry.

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #Community Confessions #Buyers and Sellers

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azsazz · 7 months

Text

CC3 Anon

spoilers under cut

Hiii it’s CC anon. THANK GOD YOU RESPONDED NO ONE ELSE I KNOW IS READING THIS BOOK 😭

I finished CC3 last night and yeah. I enjoyed the pacing at the beginning of this book more than the first two books because we’re already in the thick of the climax and don’t have to build up suspense again but omg it dragged in the middle.

I did not care for Ithan at all I’m sorry. And yes he hasn’t been a pro sun all player in YEARS idk why she keeps bringing it up. I think someone stumbled and he caught her and Sarah went “his sunball reflexes” HES A WOLF HE WAS ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE QUICK REFLEXES. Had him running up and down to resurrect Sigrid and in the end it DIDNT EVEN MATTER.

Lmaoooo Ithan mostly acted ago appropriate if I think about it. He's like 20 I'm assuming since he's around college age. He's def not my favorite character either tbh. Love how everything fell into his lap tho. Literally anytime he was mentioned so was snuball it was so fucking dumb.

I know you like Tharion but can he do anything right omg. Ithan carried him with the Viper Queen. Sathia carried him in front of the Ocean Queen 😭 I WAS SO PISSED ABOUT THE ANTIDOTES OMG and then Ithan went and did the same. I see why they are best friends like wow stupid really follows stupid.

LMAO I love Tharion, yes he'd definitely dumb and needs to make better decisions but I liked how witty he was in the first book. He really needs to stop with the whole woe is me act tho. omg the antidotes shit don't even get me started. half of the stuff that she wrote for the book didn't even matter in the end. like, we could've cut this damn book down 300 pages tbh, nothing would've been missed because nothing made sense even.

I don’t hate Bryce. She did annoy me though. I hated when Aelin wouldn’t tell people about her plans and could not stand it from Bryce here. Her yelling at Hunt about having to face the consequences of their actions. I’m like dude you went to another world and came back powered up. Hunt stayed and was tortured brutally like what? I know why she doesn’t want him to have guilt about it but it’s his 3rd time going through this and failing. And now he has more to lose. Of course he would be feeling a type of way.

I do not like her at all lol. The whole not telling people plans things pissed me off because her loud mouth is not like that. AND THEN SHE HAS THE AUDACITY TO TELL HUNT "OH YOU DONT EVEN WANT TO BE HERE" girl maybe if you told someone the fuckin plan they would feel a bit more confident about going through with it for fucks sake. she's a mean girl and i can't stand her and i don't think she's funny at all she is so cringe to me haha. HUNT HAS ALREADY TRIED GOING AGAINST THE ASTERI AND HE WAS TORTURED FOR 200 YEARS?! Then he gets freed and has to do it all over again?! Like, why are we yelling at this man? of course he's weary.

I’m not the biggest fan of her swagger at times. Like sometimes we don’t need the quippy (read: unfunny) one liners :/

LITERALLY

The STAKES???? Bryce should’ve stayed dead! It would have been a lot more impactful. Even the torturing scenes kind of didn’t hit as much after the fact cause everyone can just regrow their limbs and be fine. No one had a single nightmare about what happened to them? I thought we would see something like that beyond “a glimmer of darkness in his eyes” idk :/

The entire "someone dying only to be brought to life on the next page" has definitely fucking worn off now but sjm apparently can't see that. she created a world with 50+ characters only to not use half of them when it matters. so stupid. Also, i don't remember them being able to regrow limbs tbh.

Maybe the book would’ve been too long but I was genuinely shocked we didn’t get more scenes of anyone on the actual battlefield. We were mostly in the palace after Bryce and Hunt teleported, and then the moment with Lidia and the sprites. But maybe the book would’ve been too toooo long idk.

Yeah there really was only like 60 pages of the end scene. but as soon as i saw the word space i actually almost DNFd it because what the actual fuck was that.

I will say I really like how the male friendships are genuine. I honestly can’t tell you that Bryce, Fury, and June are friends LMAO. (I’m exaggerating but I do kinda agree with this) .

Yeah, i love Ruhn, dec, and flynn's relationship. i think sjm tries to be like "oh yeah girl power, strong fmc's" but there's no women in the books? and they all don't like each other? like danika, bryce, fury, and juniper seemed like mean girls? girls that didn't give a fuck about anyone else? idk. the way that the men to women ratio in her books is very interesting to me. and the fack that EVERY man that comes across bryce thinks she's the most gorgeous girl to have ever lived...fuck off with that logic.

My girl Jesiba :////// She was my favorite for sure. I'm indifferent about her lol. Her entire storyline i feel was just made up like two months ago so she could connect to the other series lol

I do agree with what you said about Bryce (I legit almost wrote Aelin LMFAO) . I was not expecting her to just say no rulers for the Fae at all. But I guess a Senate would be more democratic.

SO STUPID. The Senate (starwars)

Im sure there will be a fourth book but I am so uninterested in Tharion and Ariadne like who caresssssssss. If Im interested in Ithan, it’s because I want to see more Perry. I wonder how connected this world and ACOTAR will remain.

I honestly hope it ends at 4 books. I think that would be a perfect ending because there's four houses. no need for more im already sick of it. yeah i liked perry too. i hope they're no longer connected lol.

Ruhn and Lidia :) but HE LEGIT SHOT HER?? I know she was acting irrationally because of her sons and he wanted to make sure she didn’t get herself killed but then he shot her. Like okay 😭. I think my favorite couples are Bryce’s parents and Lidia and Ruhn. Ruhn just seems so hot 😭.

Ruhn is a winner for sure for sure.

I’m writing too much and I’m scared this app will just shut down so I’ll quit here. I still think the first book is the worst one in this series. But I had fun with this one (despite my hang ups) and I’m glad it’s over (for now :/).

THANKS FOR LETTING ME RANT!!!

THANKS FOR LETTING ME RANT TOO!

CC anon!! I went to goodreads to read reviews of the book and I genuinely cannot believe how many 5 star ratings this book got. I mean, I can and can’t believe it. Atp anything Sarah puts out will average at least a 4 star rating on there and sell a crap ton.

I think people just give her that rating because she's popular, not because they read lol. oh yeah, why do you think she released 5 different bonus chapters. talk about a greedy cash grab. that mentality kinda makes me sick im not even going to lie.

I was reading through the 2-star reviews and someone mentioned their shock at how quickly Ruhn and Lidia resolved their issues which I totally agree with. She said she hated him and would never forgive him for what he did, and she was right! I know why Ruhn did it, but I genuinely still cannot believe he actually shot her, even if she was gonna be okay. That’s a terrible time to be worrying about a wound like that when you want to be at full strength to fight for your children.

Yeah half of the plot lines felt stupid? like what? he couldn't have stopped her any other way...really? i feel like she did not think this book through as well as she thought she did tbh. seems to be her thing these days.

(Even when Hunt said he hated Bryce for stopping him from killing Celestina, I was like Oh!)

OMG THAT WAS ACTUALLY WILD. YEAH OKAY. I TOTALLY BELIEVE THEY'RE MATES.

The reviewer said Sarah should have left their relationship on the rocks so we could get Ruhn groveling in the fourth book, and I can’t get that idea out of my head. ESPECIALLY with their bonus scene. Idk if you’ve read it but I was like ??? I like them as a couple and I like their story, but it did seem like it was all patched up insanely quickly. Like if you shot me then the very LEAST you could do is get my kids to safety. That alone would not necessarily make me forgive you.

I didn't read their bonus chapter but i can't believe they moved in with each other literally after like two days of knowing each other in real life. bro, you just found out she has two kids? you don't know the woman at all lol. no, everyone has to have a happy ending by the last page of the book or else. lol. no suspense.

#cc3 spoilers #cc3 #hofas #hofas spoilers

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h-aknight5384 · 1 year

Text

Drinking - Pickman

“How much farther? I don’t like being in the open like this.” Pickman muttered behind me. I rolled my eyes, not even looking back.

“We’re hardly in the open, Richard, we’re as out of sight as possible.” I pick up the pace a bit, despite my own reassuring that we’re safe, safe doesn’t really exist in the Commonwealth outside of major settlements, and even then it’s hard to know if you’re really safe. “It’s not much further.”

“What’s so special about this place, Nora?” He catches up to me, side-eyeing me for a few seconds then looking behind us again. He’s so paranoid, but I guess in his line of work, he needs to be. Most people would be scared to be in the same city as him, I don’t think I’ve ever been scared of him though, even before I started feeling these annoying little things called emotions.

I stop in front of a familiar door, left hand attempting to look through that pocket, before reconsidering. 200 years and I still go on autopilot on this block. “This is it.” I look at him next to me. “Hold on, I’ll pick this lock then we can go inside.” I’m relieved the building is still standing and looking almost the exact same as it always has, I wonder if the inside’s the same. A click comes from the door and it starts to open. Pushing it the rest of the way, I step inside and let my friend in, closing the door behind him and locking it.

“You never answered my question, I don’t mean to seem pushy, but what’s so significant about a building over 200 years old? Did you know the previous owners?” His question isn’t unexpected or even unwelcome, but it is a bit… painful to answer. I hope they got the mercy of death and aren’t doomed to live as ghouls.

“You could say that.” I look down at the floor, wood damaged, yet somehow still able to hold our weight. I sigh and gather my thoughts, looking back up at him. “This was my parents house.”He looks at me, and as usual, I can’t read his emotions. He opens his mouth to say something, but I break eye contact and walk past him to where the kitchen is. “There’s a bedroom and bathroom down the hall. There’s only one bed, you take it, I’m not planning on sleeping tonight. Don’t bother arguing, you and I both know you need sleep more than I do.”

The fridge is still intact, thankfully. Please, please have some drinks left. I crouch down to see the bottom shelf and my knees crack loudly. “Ow.” I mutter, even though it didn’t hurt. I’ve always had that habit of saying ‘ow’ when something didn’t hurt and especially when I hit my phone on a bench or something by accident, I don’t know why I do it.

“Looking for something specific? I can look if you want to go lay down or something, that sounded painful.” Pickman says, suddenly right behind me.

“It didn’t actually hurt, I don’t know why I said that. It’s fine, I found what I was looking for. Thanks, anyway, Richard.” I pull out the open carton of vodka cruisers from the back of the fridge and put it on the floor next to my feet. I remember how confused the bartender was when mum asked for them to special order them for her. “These,” I held up one of the glass bottles “are the best drinks I’ve ever had. The only alcohol I like, rather than just force myself to drink. Would you like one?” I twist the lid off with my shirt and hold the bottle out to him.

“I’ll try one. If you like it, I’m sure it’s good.” He lifts the bottle to his lips and almost as soon as the liquid leaves the bottle, he’s making a weird face. I burst out laughing at his expression and he rolls his eyes at me.

“I’m sorry, I should've warned you. It’s really alcoholic and sweet. It’s almost like drinking straight syrup, and as I say that, I realise you probably don’t know what that is” He slowly shakes his head." If you don’t like it, I’ll finish it for you, no worries. Not everyone enjoys them.”

“I don’t mind it, I just wasn’t expecting that amount of sweetness, it’s not often you find something like this in the Commonwealth. Where did you get it?” He takes another sip and I shrug, grabbing myself one.

“You can’t get it anywhere else in the country, or even the continent. It’s Australian, not sure if you know what Australia is, but we’re not getting anymore of these.” I sigh, US education on anything outside America was bad enough before, I can only assume it’s gotten worse now. “I’m going to enjoy the little amount we have and hope I get shit-faced from it.”

I stand from the floor, knees cracking again, and walk over to sit at the kitchen table. “I assume, from context, you mean inebriated? Is that the best idea, given that we’re in a newer place we haven’t looked through yet?” Pickman follows me, albeit a little more hesitantly.

“It’s fine, Rich, I can almost guarantee you that there’s no one else here. If there were, the fridge wouldn’t have had food still in it.” I point out and he seems to relax a little more. “My parents were staying with mum's friend on her and her husband's farm around the time the bombs dropped. There’s nothing to worry about.” He relaxes a lot more and leans back in the seat a bit. I remember when I lived here, before I got married, drinking and listening to music with my friends at this very table. Laughing and talking about random, stupid nonsense that doesn’t exist anymore. Ghosts of the past walking down a hallway that is almost unrecognisable now.

“Come on, Nor, there has to be one guy you like in that whole class.” The memory of my best friend at her bachelorette party replays in my head. She moved not long after her wedding. She never got to meet Nate or Shaun.

“Nora, are you listening to me?” A voice cuts through my thoughts, sounding concerned. Pickman stares at me, seemingly worried about my lack of response. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry, what did you say?” Shaking my head clear of my thoughts, I smile at him. That world, that person, doesn’t exist anymore. The person I was died the same day her husband did, and if I keep getting distracted like that, I’ll end up the same way. Fuck, my head’s spinning. I hold my head, feeling like I might throw up.

“I said you look like you’re tired. Maybe you should get some rest. I can stay up in case something happens.” He looks kinda worried. I could totally kiss him. Act like it was some drunk act, fuck, am I drunk? Who cares?

“You’re cute when you’re worried.” The words spill out without warning, shrugging I lean over the table and kiss him. I’m gonna regret this in the morning, but why not try it?

He kisses me back for a few seconds then pulls back, looking like he got shot. “You’re drunk. You won’t remember this in the morning and if you do, you’ll regret it.”

“What if I said I’m not as drunk as you think?” I whisper, as though I’m scared that if I talk too loud the moment will disappear forever. “What if I said that I actually really like you and I have for a while now?”

He looks nervous for a split second, then normal again. “Killer, I’m sure you know how much I love you. I’ve felt something for you since that day you saved me.” He leans in again, and we continue where we left, pulling apart a few moments later to have more drinks.

~skip to morning brought to you by how goddamn lazy I am~

I wake up in my parents' old room, still feeling really tired. “Oh, shit. What time is it?” I mutter, trying to check the pipboy that’s sitting on the bedside table, stopping when the hand around my waist tightens and pulls me backwards slightly.

“Don’t move, too comfortable.” Pickman says into my hair. Oh my God! His morning voice is too hot!

I reach over just enough to turn on my pipboy and check the time. ‘10:00’. “Ten am? Shit. Wake up, Richie Rich.” I elbow him, gently, to wake him up.

“Richie Rich? That’s a new one.” He doesn’t move or even attempt to get up. I don’t think I’ll be getting up for a while.

“Actually, it’s technically an old one. It’s a movie name. Not important though, we should probably talk about what happened last night, first, what happened last night?” I laugh, though I’m not joking. I don’t remember much of last night other than me making the dumb decision to kiss him.

“That depends on how much you remember.” I turn around to face him, confused on what he means.

“I remember enough.” He nods and leans towards me, softly kissing me. All questions, or thoughts in general, go out the window.

“I love you, killer.” He sighs, softly and smiles. “Nora.” That’s the first time he’s called me my name.

“I love you, too, Richard Pickman.” I turn around and stand up. “Now, it’s time to get up.” I should’ve tried drinking earlier, probably would have saved a lot of time.

#Fallout 4 #Pickman #FO4 #fo4 sole survivor #female sole survivor #pickman x female reader

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anubisisms · 2 years

Note

Hello.

I was reading your fic Widowmaker and came to a chapter that had news articles in them. How did you manage to format them the way you did in the fic (by that I mean in a gray box and in a Times New Roman font)?

Another thing is how do you figure out how to write scenes related to crime rates and police stuff (like how things work in stations, etc)? Ive read fics with stuff like this (and have been wanting to write a fic of my own at some point), but I never knew how people manage to flesh out good, convincing ones. How do you research?

Questions aside, I love your fics and hope to see how the rest of Widowmaker ends. (Also I hope I’m not bothering you with this ;-;)

Hi!!! It's not a bother at all, I love talking about fics and fic formatting!!!

Making the news articles was something I accomplished using CSS and a workskin. I'm not sure how familiar you are with either of them, but CSS is a style sheet language/coding used to change the formatting of a page. AO3 lets you input it into fics by using workskins! The process is essentially coding up how you want certain parts of the page to look, creating a workskin and putting the code in there. Once you've applied it to that fic, any part of the fic enclosed in specific HTML will have that different look to it! If you're unfamiliar with it, here's some basic stuff for it:

beginner guide to CSS

a step-by-step guide to workskins on ao3

But anyways, I accomplished those sections with some very basic CSS. This was the entirety of it:

#workskin .newspaper { border: 1.7px solid; padding: 20px; background-color: #f0f0f0; font-size: 1em; color: #000000; font-family: "Georgia", serif; }

So all you need to do is post that into a workskin on AO3, apply it to your fic, and once you're editing the fic, switch to the 'HTML' view and enclose anything you want to make look like a newspaper in the following:

<div class="newspaper"> insert your content here </div>

That should get you the same look as what I had in my fic! It's annoying and fiddly, but I love CSS because it can get those different appearances and layouts, and once you get the hang of it, it can be quite fun! This is a very shitty tutorial, though, so if you need any more info I'm always happy to ramble at length on tumblr or discord.

As for your other questions, about how I do my fic research, it really depends on the fic. For crime-heavy fics like Widowmaker, however, I always kind of do research in the following way:

Figure out the jurisdiction/area

Figure out any divergence from reality

Figure out the fic specifics

Now that sounds very vague, so let me break it down a bit:

The first thing I do in any fic, no matter where it's set, is figure out where exactly it is. For Widowmaker, it was Tokyo, specifically Roppongi and Musutafu. Now Musutafu is a fictional area, so I substituted in other central Tokyo locations like Shibuya, since the differences wouldn't be too stark. From here I build my basic knowledge. How do the police work in Japan? What governs them? I never do anything too in depth at this stage but having a low level of background knowledge is a good thing to grab early on.

Next up is, of course, figuring out where irl research is going to fail you. Like it does often in a world set approximately 200 years in the future, where more laws would cover quirk use than traditional crime. For Widowmaker, that meant examining what role the police would actually have, given the widespread nature of heroes (and vigilantes). I made the personal decision that their role would be a more procedural and investigative one, with most field work left to pro heroes like it is in the case of Hawks.

Third is to figure out the fic specifics. This ties in a bit with the second step since that step helps eliminate what you don't need to take into account. This step tells you what you do - the police have a massive role across many areas of law enforcement, so you have to narrow it down. Do they work in drug crimes? Crime prevention? Or crimes against people like murder and such?

Once we know for sure we can start to narrow down our search - general stuff like the makeup of a police station doesn't have to be as specific, but we may need to know the punishments for murder in Japan in a prospective future, and while a bit of bullshitting is inherent in any fic set in BNHA's world, we can get a solid grasp on reality by examining the first part.

A lot of it can be trawling through boring, overlong Wikipedia pages and hunting down articles on the justice system in Japan. But for me it also involves a lot of imagination about how the systems I find solid research on would actually differ with the changes made by any kind of canon.

So that's it really - a mixture of those three steps and just using my own imagination to fill in the gaps! I'm sorry if that doesn't end up being very helpful, sometimes a writer has a very specific research style that suits them, but hopefully it gave you some insight! Again, if you want any help with said research or for me to dig out any of my old sites, just let me know! I'm always down to look at tiny little niches!

Sorry that this answer got so long, and thank you so much for the ask!! I'm really glad you're enjoying my fic so much <3 <3 <3

#ask answers #introvertedartistwriter15 #fic meta #css #fic research #<3

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jkrockin · 2 years

Note

ao3 wrapped ALL BITCH

oh my friend, you are a reliable source of "wanting to know shit", as always.

How many words have you written this year?

I have put 48,376 words on AO3! How many have I written? Trickier to calculate, but there’s about 50k in my mountain of drafts, approximately 30k of which I wrote this year but haven’t finished.

How many works did you publish this year?

Nine!

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Fairly recent, but I’m really happy with the strangerthings werewolf thing I turned out for a Halloween exchange.

What work of yours has the most hits?

From 2022, it’s the Steve/Eddie thing where they go to a Judas Priest show.

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

I’m always a little surprised when stuff gets feedback at all, since I loathe doing promo and that’s basically how you get words in front of eyeballs, but I was delighted with how my Fitzjames/Goodsir fic about jerking off was received.

Favorite title you used

“heart into a glacier”. What better choice is there for a double drabble about a hairy old man confronting the inevitability of death in the ice than Kim Petras lyrics?

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

I exclusively use song lyrics (or poetry), and the only artist I used twice was Paul Kelly (on my werewolf fics), so I guess him!

Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

It’s Steve/Eddie strangerthings, at a current total of 4 fics!

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

Shocked and appalled to report that I only wrote ONE Crozier/Fitzjames fic this year, but I think it’s still them.

What work was the quickest to write?

Also “heart into a glacier”, which I knocked out in about three hours (that’s how long it usually takes me to write 200 words tbh)

What work took you the longest to write?

This year's Dear God, Jenn, Speed Up award goes to “a sense cannot be described” (the Fitzjames/Goodsir jerkoff fic), which according to my tracking spreadsheet I started writing in December 2020 and finished in February 2022.

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Let’s consult the tracking spreadsheet again! In the in-progress tabs, there are 24 WIPs, though one of those is for an exchange due later this month.

What’s your longest work of the year?

Judas Priest thing ("you gotta get a reaction") again!

What’s your shortest work of the year?

“heart into a glacier” again!

What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

This is the same question as question 12.

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

“Anal Sex”! 🎉

Your favorite character to write this year?

It’s my BOYYYYYYY Eddie Munson, blorbo of my heart (or at least of my year, since, like, April)

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Annoyingly I do struggle a bit with my other boyyyyy Steve Harrington’s voice. This is annoying because I keep having ideas where he’s the best POV character, and a witch cursed me to only write in close third-person single POV.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

*glances at my 12 Steve/Eddie WIPs* uh.

Which work of yours have you reread the most?

I actually don’t re-read my own work much, though I have no issue with those who do. Probably “you gotta get a reaction” again, since I broke my own rules and started posting before I was done writing, and I had to re-read the first chapter to get back into the flow.

How many kudos in total did you get this year?

2,329.

Which work has the most comments?

Also “you gotta get a reaction”.

Did you do any collaborative works this year?

Nope! I still have yet to actually collaborate on something and end up finishing it.

Did you write any gifts this year?

I only did two exchanges this year— the Fruity Four Cocktail Hour discord’s Halloween mixer (the werewolf thing) and Fall Fitzier exchange (this coworkers-who-hate-each-other on a blind date thing https://archiveofourown.org/works/43300659 ), and I guess you could count heart into a glacier again as a gift for TUUNBAQ WITH A GUN.

Did you receive any gifts this year?

Yes! I thoroughly enjoyed my monster-hunter gift from Halloween, and the incomparable Kit wrote me this excellent Arctic no-nut November fic for Fitziermas!

What’s your most common category?

M/M. Writing women without getting in my fat dyke feelings is hard.

What do you listen to while writing?

I listen to a lot of synthwave and study beats when I’m trying to concentrate. Timecop1983, Mort Garson, Extrawelt, Kavinsky, Louie Zong, Dance With the Dead, kind of thing.

Favorite work you wrote this year?

Uhhhhhhh this is always a toughie, I like everything I wrote! I wouldn’t have shown them to anyone else if I didn’t! I’m going to give it to my Fall Fitzier Exchange work, “pass a lucky penny by” (link at no. 24) which I struggled with but ended up happy with.

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

I said a whole wanky thing about taking stuff out of context earlier but I quite liked this opening paragraph, from the Little/Crozier dream sex thing from Rarepair Week:

Most of Edward’s dreams, when he remembers them, are hazy, more sound and colour than anything else. Sometimes he has place-dreams of his parent’s house, searching cellar to attic for the sounds of his mother or his sisters’ voices, always a room away; sometimes, he dreams of being back aboard ships he had served on, adrift on a featureless imaginary sea.

Biggest surprise while writing this year?

How fast I can get blorbo brainworms, I think? I’d started writing Eddie stuff like halfway through watching s4 and had a pile of concepts together by the time part 2 dropped, and my Spotify is just RUINED with 80’s metal.

#ask me ask me ask me #every meme and every youyou #boogerwookiesugarcookie

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ladycatofwinterfell · 3 months

Text

I know I’m making these posts for an audience of one (1) person and that person is me. But I like writing it out, it’s easier to make sense of all my thoughts and impressions that way. And it will give me something to look back on ahead of or during next season.

And so here it is. Thoughts on episode 8.

Maybe this time I’ll start with what I didn’t like and then do it more or less chronologically. Yeah, let’s do it that way.

The episode felt kinda… idk, clunky to me? It feels like maybe some things would have benefited from being a little more drawn out. And with that I’m especially thinking of the Louis/Armand divorce. After their fight in ep.5 I guess I was expecting more at the reveal that caused the end of their relationship. Something even more explosive. Or an actual confrontation. Though I guess we’ve been slowly seeing their relationship fall apart during the season and this was just the very last thing that cemented the end of it. I also would have liked more of Louis burning down the theatre. The cut between the New Orleans scene and Daniel's tv appearance was also a little abrupt for my taste.

The thing with Armand wanting Louis dead kinda annoyed me at first because it just straight up doesn’t make any sense for me. It just felt evil. It might be the bias that I went in expecting his motivation to be the same as in the books that brought this feeling out in me, but I really wanted that. He wanted Claudia dead so he could have Louis, it was never his intention for both of them to die. Though after a couple of rewatches I'm more willing to accept it. Armand seems to desire stability and reassurance and at that point in their relationship Louis could not promise him that. He refused to join the coven and was actively agitating members of it, which brought danger to Armand. He could not trust Louis to stay with him in the long run and so he chose his coven of 200 years. And when he realised it was not going according to plan he improvised in the hope of that he would land on top. And he did. And so I choose to trust them on this decision for now in the hopes of the next season giving more clarity. This season left Armand’s character in a similar place that Lestat was left in last season, the place as the villain in the story. This season gave nuance to Lestat without changing all of the bad things he did last season. And I hope the same will be true for Armand. And if it isn't I'll take the evil gremlin. I don't hate the evil gremlin. Armand <3

NOW! Good things. Because there are a lot of them. I saw that some people didn't really like this ep and while I consider it the weakest of the season it's still great. So let's talk about it.

Louis' monologue at the beginning of the episode is so good. Jacob Anderson is so good. I've fallen in love with both Louis and Jacob and it's all due to this wonderful performance. Wondering what he could have done differently to avoid ever falling for Lestat and reaching the conclusion that it was inevitable. There was no version of events where he didn't kiss Lestat on the altar (loooooove that they've leaned into the wedding implications of that in both this ep and ep 7). And so there was no version of event where all this could have been avoided, it was inevitable. He's probably right, it was inevitable, and that's part of the tragedy babey! And Claudia is dead. Claudia doesn't exist any longer. Her absence this episode is so striking. While it's all about her she's not truly there and there's a gaping hole where she was before.

His manic planning was also just beautifully acted. And it paired with Dubai scenes of Louis and Armand being like noooo Daniel you don't understand Armand was also a victim :( we prooooomise :( and Daniel just quietly waiting for when he can drop what he's discovered. Seeing Louis burn down the theatre was so satisfying. Setting fire to those who had wronged not him but Claudia and saving her things from that fire. Taking the last physical remains of her and committing murder with them in his bag <3 him knowing he can get Santiago by agitating and mocking him. and saying come to me???????? iwtv writers what the fuck were you on because I want some. All through the season I've been just a little in love with Santiago because of Ben Daniels' incredible performance and the fun pizzazz he brought to the character. With that said I was happy to watch him die after he said the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my life about Claudia's ashes. Burn in hell bitch. All love to Ben Daniels though.

The scene with Armand afterwards? Where Armand admits to lying but not about that he played an active role in it? He knows he can't deny that he knew it would happen, but he knows he can deny it was largely due to him. Giving him a little of the truth, a bit he's carefully curated, just enough for it to be believable? Excellent.

LESTAT DE LIONCOURT!!! For now we'll just go with that I was wrong and that Lestat was chilling out in the dungeon out of his own free will (even though I still suspect we'll hear a different version later on. and if we don't and that was the truth i'm fine with it). Louis going to him with full intent of killing him that time, of burning him for what he did to Claudia. For crossing an ocean to rehearse a play that would burn his daughter alive. Big fan of them reversing to Claudia being their daughter btw. While she wanted to be their sister, while they called her their sister she never was their sister. That was their daughter. That was their little girl, as tragic as that is. Anyhow. He can't burn Lestat because Lestat has the blood of Akasha in him (Akasha mention let's fucking go). He can't kill Lestat. But he has to hurt him, he NEEDS to hurt him. And so he hurts him by being with Armand. I'm a big believer in that Louis and Armand really did love each other in the beginning and that their relationship was genuinely built on a connection. But that changes in Magnus' tower. That's when Armand becomes the rebound, that's when he becomes the companion Louis kept out of spite because he could not hurt Lestat in any other way then and there.

End of story. Armand breaths a sigh of relief, even allows himself to gloat a little. Too bad for him that Daniel is out for blood and is just itching to bring down his empire of lies. He points out flaws in Louis' story. He points out inconsistencies. And then he slams down the scrips for the trial that has Armand's notes scribbled in the margins. Because it was Armand. Armand had an active role in it. Armand wanted him and Claudia dead. Lestat saved Louis at the trial, and he didn't look very healthy in that version. He looked pale, he looked like the swaying Lestat we saw briefly just before Claudia died. Love how in the version of the trial from the previous ep Lestat wears black while Armand wears white, and when we see them rehearsing it's the other way around. Anyway I fell completely for that it was Armand that saved Louis, I believed it because that's what happened in the book, but it was a nice twist that it was Lestat. I think Sam Reid said he believes Lestat would have saved Claudia if he had had the energy for it, but he was simply not well enough to use his powers to save them both. Cool, doesn't at all make me want to die. Daniel lives for the drama, I'm here for it. His dramatic reveal was incredible. Louis snaps, as one might do when one finds out one's partner of 77 years murdered one's daughter and then fucked with one's head so one can't remember the truth of it. Him throwing Armand into the wall where the paintings were before but that they left bare because they couldn't agree on what to put up there? Fucking poetry.

Louis getting his accent back when he leaves Dubai is so beautiful. He lived in that grey and soulless apartment, spoke in a way that wasn't his own, wore only black. And now he's in New Orleans. He goes on a little tour that includes part of his own life and smiles at the incorrect things said like he's fondly reminiscing about it. And he is. He might have told a story that wasn't entirely how it actually happened in the interview, but it helped him to process some very painful things. It led him to come to terms with it in a way that he simply couldn't before. And now he's treated like a respected person, not looked down upon the way he was when he left New Orleans. And he sees a vampire catching rats, and he follows that vampire.

Okay so let’s get to the elephant in the room. The Louis/Lestat scene. Because while my first thought was Louis, girl, GET UP!! I really enjoyed the scene. Out of everything in the episode that one hit the hardest and how could it not? I’ve already come out as a loustat enjoyer, you know how it is (this show is very much not about shipping for me, but it’s also built on the relationships between all characters and loustat is simply THE relationship). He follows the young vampire and finds a Lestat that's a shadow of his former self. He returned to New Orleans because New Orleans is his home, but he hasn't been living there. He says he has, but that wasn't a life. He's been punishing himself ever since Paris, lived in atonement for what he did. He denies himself everything. Eats rats, lives in a shack, wears the robe he wore the first night he and Louis spent together, he even denies himself the joy of playing the piano. AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME WE SEE LESTAT!!!! this is the first time we see Lestat in the flesh and not through someone's memory of him. And he's the most pathetic wet dog of a man you've ever laid eyes on. Gone is the grandiose personality and the seductive presence. He's just so sad. And he has an ipad. Who gave this man wifi??? and taught him to use siri???? I was taken off guard by siri pause, it was very funny. And while it wasn't the same tone as the rest of the scene it worked. Shows we're in the presence, grounds the scene in, idk, realism? Like it's not a big thing, a great happening, it takes place in the real world. With that said it is a great happening and I’ll be thinking about it for the rest of my life. The way Sam and Jacob acted the entire scene is so great (as always with those two). The initial gentleness from Louis at seeing what has become of Lestat. Lestat being a very miserable and watered down version of himself but not without a lot of the same mannerisms as before (the way he moves his head when talking, his little shoulder shimmy, the way he drums his hand against his board). I like Lestat holding the board in front of him like a shield until they get to the point where Louis asked why he didn't say that he saved his life in Paris. And Lestat questioning if it was saving him. Louis thanking Lestat for the gift of time is sooooo touching. He wore vampirism like a curse, couldn't accept it, but he's come to realise that the nights he has ahead of him means something. He can use those nights to learn to live honestly. And it truly is beautiful that after having seen Louis struggle with vampirism for two seasons that he can embrace his own nature in a different way and consider it something positive that he has eternity to do right by himself and others. And Lestat, upon hearing that, asking about if he tried to end his life in 1973. If it was truly so bad he hurt himself. Which ties very well into his doubts about if he truly did save Louis in Paris. And he's clearly spent a lot of time thinking about this because he remembers the exact date and the exact time, both in New Orleans and in San Fransisco, when he heard from Armand. And that's the only time he's heard about Louis since they left Paris!! More than 70 years and all he knows of Louis is that something terrible happened to him in 1973. And when Louis says he was lost he immediately brings up Claudia, because of course it's about Claudia. He can't stop thinking about her either. And perhaps this (apart from the unbreakable vampire bond) is what will always tie Louis and Lestat together from now on. That they are the only two people in the world that understand the loss of Claudia and that knew the joy of Claudia when they lived together in New Orleans. No one else fully understands their pain. Lestat blames himself for the trial, Louis blames himself for the turning of Claudia in the first place. Both of them think themselves partly responsible for her death. And in a way they are, but they didn't mean for that to happen and it will haunt them for the rest of their lives.

New paragraph because Tumblr forbid me from having one that long. It's the first time that has ever happened to me. Cool, I love this show. Anyway Louis heard from Armand that Claudia looked to Lestat in her last moment, but now he hears it from Lestat. He hears Lestat say she looked at him like he was her father, and then try to continue by saying he never was her father but the thing is that he was!! They were always her fathers. She referred to him as her uncle until she refused to be anything but a grown sister, but he was always her father. That was their daughter. Even when things were bad, even when she resented and hated them (especially Lestat), even when she tried to kill Lestat. Claudia was their daughter. In her last moment she did look to her father. The father that didn't save her. Side note, if they do "Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart" next season I'll die, I think. Claudia and Lestat are so interesting, character dynamic of all time if I'm being honest. Anyway they hug and it's such a relief for both Louis and Lestat. Finally they're embracing each other, sharing some comfort about Claudia's death, which is something they've both been denied for an entire human lifetime. And there's a storm going on around them, it sounds like the house will fall apart. 1 "Another round in the stormy romance of you two" and 2 "I was just a roof shingle that flew off of your house". Nothing is about Claudia because everything is about the two of them and it's always been that way, but simultaneously everything is about Claudia. And it's so deliciously tragic that everything becomes about her only after she dies. She could not be that while she was alive, she had to die for them to realise that. Just as with Claudia and Madeleine I love that we can't hear what they're saying to each other, again that's not for us to know. It's just for the two of them. Jacob and Sam deserve to have that.

And on a completely different note VAMPIRE DANIEL!!!! I saw him wearing sunglasses indoors and was like wait a moment... and then I saw his nails and YES he's a vampire!! Sad they've already burned half of my wishlist for season 3, but I can't be too upset about it. Daniel upon becoming a vampire immediately returning to his annoying and rash and twitchy 20-year-old self is gold. Becoming dated in his leather jacket and acdc shirt the same way Lestat became in his silk cravats. He's an old man physically but a very young vampire and it shows as soon as we see him. He's cocky and seems to think himself invincible, proudly proclaiming for all that will listen that vampires exist. I saw people upset that his turning was off screen but I like it. We know what's implied, we can definitely imagine approximately what took place after Louis told Armand not to touch Daniel. DID I HEAR MAITRE ONLY WHEN IT'S HOT OR CONVENIENT??? I'm a strong believer in that we'll get devil's minion, only in a different format than the one in the books, I'm not willing to give up on it. Louis and Daniel's relationship continuing is great though, and Daniel calling Armand an asshole wasn't bad either. Daniel pushing for more books because he's high on everything and on top of life. Great idea to make an addict into a creature whose entire existence revolves around the next fix.

Louis wears patterns now! He has a yellow couch! There are flowers on a table and a colourful painting on the wall! Claudia's dress is up on the wall, as is a portrait of Paul! The magnolia tree is gone, it's simply his little garden now. The apartment is his, he himself is his own. And the other vampires want to kill him for Daniel's book, and he lets them know they're welcome to try and fuck with him. Because he owns the night. When I saw him I was at first afraid of that Lestat would also be there with him, and I'm so glad he wasn't. I'm so glad that for now Louis is on his own, learning to live with himself and be himself again. I'm so glad that it ended with the focus on only him. Jacob Anderson as Louis de Pointe du Lac, you will always be famous. Also relieved it's been at least partly confirmed that while Lestat will narrate next season Louis will not take a step back, it's still also about him. I love Louis <3

#vampyrernas teater #can't believe it's over #but at least we have confirmed season 3!!!!! I will have these messy fuckers back on my screen and it will be great

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jodilin65 · 31 years

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SATURDAY, MAY 29, 1993 I would’ve been going to L.A. tomorrow, but now it’s the 7th of June, so I’ve been told. If I don’t make it there, I’ll want to kill Scott.

He says he’s paying $200 of my rent this month and I worry about if he means it. He also says he’s gonna give me a canceled check to send to Sprint for proof that he paid $35.

I’m not saying Scott deliberately sets out to lie about stuff he’s gonna do and that he’s not busy, but he procrastinates big time.

Two months ago I sent US West a check for $88 and it’s never been cashed. I’ll have to call them about it as well as a few days of credit for when I was crossed. I also must take the phone bill I just got to the office for them to deduct the transfer fee from my rent. I haven’t gotten an electric bill yet.

Work’s been much better this week. I have about $180 in cash on me. Next week I’m working Tuesday-Thursday from 9:00 PM - 1:00 AM.

Tom’s been driving me to and from work, but Mandy took me home tonight. Tom says he can bring me to and from work tomorrow night.

FRIDAY, MAY 28, 1993 I made $86 at work tonight which was great. It sure beat last week which was so dead.

I spoke to Tammy who said she blasted Dad for the letter he wrote me. She once again went through both of our feelings. She wishes they were divorced too.

Then, Scott came over earlier and said to take a ride with him to see why he’s been so busy. We rode in a very nice mercury sable. One of his cars from Michigan. He’s having all his cars sent here. I saw them all lined up at some dealership that’s trying to sell them for him. Believe it or not, it made me wish I could afford the car and didn’t have this phobia I have with driving. I drove around the parking lot, for the first time in nearly two years, then to the grocery store, then here. I felt a little shaky but it was fun. How would I ever learn to feel comfortable enough to relax and concentrate on everything around me? Scott says everyone feels like that and it’s cuz I haven’t driven enough. Maybe 20 times since I was 19. Scott says a minivan would be perfect for someone as short as me.

THURSDAY, MAY 27, 1993 I expect to be awake for a while longer, so I’ll write. I don’t want to get backed up either.

Tomorrow I’ll mail out that letter to Bob. The one saying how Kim’s thinking of moving here. I’ve written several letters.

Scott came over earlier so naturally, the phone had to ring twice. Once with Fran, then with Andy.

Andy transferred to a closer Denny’s.

While Scott was here I played him some tapes. One of Andy, Fran and me talking to the crisis center.

I made $66 at work tonight. Amazing, huh?

Today I’ve been keeping journals for 5 years and 7 months.

Some DJ Andy spoke to wants a copy of my edits. Last night Andy and I spoke to Johnny at a local radio station and he thought they were cool. DJs are cool people to talk to. I even ended up on the radio saying, “So Johnny, when the heck are you going to be giving away courtside Sun’s tickets?” like he asked me to.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 26, 1993 I am on the phone right now with Andy and believe it or not, we’re calling machines. We’re only calling each machine once and leaving edits on them since it’s too easy to get caught.

I am very tired right now due to the sun, but I’ll do some writing another time.

Later…

I am sitting here wondering how the hell I’m gonna fall asleep. So, instead of trying to figure out that one, I figured I’d write.

Monday I slept from 9:00 AM – 3:00 PM. Scott knocked at 8:30 PM. He’s been working on one of his cars for the last two days.

Steve called me to ask if I’d heard from Celeste. She and her son’s missing and her mom called him. She could be with anyone knowing how she is. Scott said she was with Joe. She’s like Teresa. They can never leave the men who beat them.

Before I fell asleep yesterday morning, I called Kim. We spoke for half an hour. She’s very annoyed with Bob’s obsession with her. We’re gonna play a joke on him. I’m sending a very threatening fuck off message from a “Brian R” to her and she’s gonna mail it to him. I disguised my handwriting.

I’m also gonna tell him in a letter how she’s thinking of moving out here. Then, she’ll write to me saying that. I’ll send this letter to Bob. Bob will freak with total panic.

Late last night Tom and I went to the Jacuzzi. Then, he came over here where once again I made him hot chocolate and played him tapes. He said he’ll show me how to create edits on his computer digitally sometime. He said you can control the pitch and do all sorts of things.

Later I’ll write all about the DJ that Andy and I spoke to and about my being on the radio.

MONDAY, MAY 24, 1993 I’m still wide awake as I feared I’d be.

I spoke to Tammy earlier. We both agreed that it’d be a waste of time to try to “set things straight” with my parents. Yes, it hurts that we can’t get along. What person wouldn’t want to get along with their parents? However, I’m not gonna keep on running around in circles with them. I’m not at fault or deserving of Mom’s bullshit. I’ll miss not telling them all about the good things going on, but it’s not worth it anymore.

I hope Scott doesn’t knock till 2:00 or 3:00.

Last night Tom and I went to the Jacuzzi. After, I invited him here. I had coffee and he had hot chocolate. I showed him the photo albums, drawings, and journals and played him some tapes.

SUNDAY, MAY 23, 1993 Well, I am in a great mood. Far better than I was last week. It’s so nice to know that I’ve had so few bad days or so-so days since I’ve been here. For 26½ years it was 90% miserable. Here, it’s been 98% fantastic.

I didn’t count, but I made $80 or $90 tonight. I have $97 in cash on me in bills and lots of change.

Scott stopped in for an hour or so. It was great to see him. We’re getting together Monday.

I still can’t find Kindy’s number, so I hope she calls me.

I like Sasha, but she can be annoying. She knows Scott and I are good friends and that I hardly see him, but she hogs his attention.

Till 11:00 it was dead. I said to Scott I was afraid I’d end up evicted if the club didn’t pick up or if no positive results came out of L.A. He laughed and said, “No you’re not. I’ve got tons of money coming in next month.”

We’re gonna discuss it Monday. And he also says he’ll put the ceiling fan up then. We’ll see.

I still do have an excellent feeling about L.A. Also, believe it or not, I feel a little lust in the cards too, but why the hell I do, who knows? I’m sure it won’t be with Marcella, but I sure wish it. While I’m still young I wish to hell I could have a little more fun here and there.

There’s a new dancer named Ashley at work who’s pretty, but I guess she’s straight.

The phone company fixed the lines today.

Tomorrow if I don’t get together with Kindy, and I highly doubt it, I’ll call Lorna. I’d like to meet her and see if she’ll buy my answering machine.

I sold Sammy a costume.

I think I’ll also decorate the wall stuff and type some letters. I love this apartment It’s so quiet so far. The guy below me is so quiet and I hear fewer kids. I have a few more things to write about later.

Later…

Can you believe I’m still fucking up?! This pisses me off! My schedule’s been doing well since I had that flu and cold. It’s been fine for 3 months so why it’s so hard to fall asleep now beats me.

At 6:30 yesterday evening, Tom came over and attached the sleeper to the couch. He also listened to some edits and one of the Crisis Center calls where Andy and I would play the abandoned teen siblings and I’d do my crazy act, speaking senseless, disjointed sentences.

Tom took me to work and back. He’s on vacation for two weeks. While he’s still here he can bring me to and from work. I’ll still see him and be friends with him after he moves, though. He’s gonna have a 2-bedroom house with a pool. Lucky him.

He’s a cool guy. He’s so the “married with children” type. So very mature and calm. He’s 35, but he appears a bit older. Completely opposite of me, yet never tries to change me or anyone else. Never the type to make prank phone calls, mail funny letters, swear so much or be so blunt. He is very honest, though, and can handle listening to edits and stuff like that.

Earlier I was going through all my journals and highlighting the entry dates. I’d begun doing this right before I moved to Crystal Creek. I’ve finished 1-30, but I know I have bits and pieces of 31-37 done.

Gotta dust, vacuum and run through the bathroom and kitchen a bit. I really want to keep up on this place. Don’t want to let it slide. Every two weeks is when I shall go through it. Once every 2-3 months I’ll be really thorough. No half-assing it.

Why do I feel such a strong vibe for lust? Knowing and going by my track record, I should have a year or so to go.

Now, I’m going to try really hard to fall asleep. I definitely can feel my eyelids becoming quite heavy, so bye for now.

Later…

Right now I am sitting on my patio. It is very very warm out still. A slight breeze went by, but only for a second. I wish it was windier more often. I can’t wait till we have more of those awesome thunder and lightning storms we usually have this time of year. The sound of the creek and waterfalls down below me is so peaceful. God, what beauty I live in!

I��m writing on the table I bought for $10 off that maintenance guy who was fired and moved. I have the patio light on. Thankfully, I have a patio light. I can see perfectly well.

I slept till 7:00! I was beat, but I hope I haven’t fucked my schedule up. I still haven’t done my walls either. I am doing laundry now. I’ll watch two movies I taped and do some letter writing, too.

I spoke to Andy for about 45 minutes, then went to the Jacuzzi. He’s watching TV now.

I have an appointment tomorrow at 9 AM with DES. I want to see if Tom can do me a huge favor. Of course, he can’t call them and say I can’t be up that early cuz I work. I want him to say I transferred apartments, I’m very sick now and don’t have current bills and rent receipts which is true. I’ll call them real soon and see if I can do a phone interview or mail the stuff they need.

While I was at the Jacuzzi I found a really nice lighter and it’s full, too.

I’ll have to look at the apartment map to see where Lorna’s apartment is. I’ll call her first, though, one of these days soon. I want to sell her my answering machine. I’m wary of her otherwise. I smell Ellie in her.

Tomorrow’s the day, a year ago that I left the NHA project. I was in Natchaug for two weeks. I’ve been through so much and accomplished so much since.

Scott says tomorrow he’s putting up the ceiling fan in the bedroom. I’ll believe it when I see it. I hate to say that, but it’s true. Right now, though, I’m gonna throw my clothes into the dryer and watch TV.

Later…

I’m about to watch the movie I taped. One of them. This one’s called, In the Line of Duty - Ambush in Waco. It’s all about that crazy cult leader in Texas. This video has had it. It sounds as if it were underwater. Tim Daly, the guy playing David Koresh, looks exactly like the real David Koresh.

SATURDAY, MAY 22, 1993 Still no sign of Scott. This is really pissing me the fuck off. Where the fuck is he? What the fuck’s going on with L.A., the rent, and all the other stuff!? Mark at work said to let him know when and if I find out I’m going to L.A. Is the dream over, just when I was as sure as the fact that I’m short with waist-length hair? Was this all one big fat fucking joke? Is God gonna punish me for this first whole year in all my life of happiness? Why is there always a price to pay for happiness? I’m certainly not saying I’m miserable, but am I to pay any dues? Dues for being happy? Is this cuz of my get-together with Julia?

Later I have stuff to write about Marcella (a dancer I like), money, costumes, Kindy, etc.

Later…

What the hell, I don’t have anything else better to do right now, other than to write.

Meagan says Marcella just moved in with her boyfriend. Great. But who knows just how happy she really is? Who knows if she’s gay? Sasha and I still sense she could be. She (Sasha) had agreed a few days ago to approach Marcella and tell her about me. Just as we were coming in, Marcella was on her way out. Sasha never said a word to her. She told me to just go up and talk to her or to leave her a note. She said she didn’t seem to be the type to freak out and take a shit fit if she was straight or not interested. Well, I’m not as brave as she is. Not after the Maliheh incident and many others. It’s not that I’m afraid of verbal rejection. I’m so used to it. I don’t want to have to work with her and maybe blush with a bit of embarrassment when I see her. Or have her tell the whole world and be snotty to me. It’s not that I care who knows I’m gay. It’s her running around saying, “that girl had the nerve to hit on me and I rejected her, ha, ha, ha!”

I envy those who see what they want and almost always get it.

Later…

Meagan says Marcella’s going to Florida for two weeks, but that if I wanted to write a note, she’d give it to her.

If she were bi and looking for a woman here and there, I’m sure God wouldn’t let me get that lucky. Don’t get me wrong, Ann Marie and Julia were no settlements. However, there’s a difference between, someone who’ll “pass,” versus someone who makes you think - wow! I want her big time!

Steve was telling me that he’s got another regular who’s a definite butch. However, she’s very nice, he says, with a great personality. He said she said that I must have the same problem she does cuz there are not too many feminine ones out there and that’s what she goes for. As I said, this comes as no surprise to me. Butches like fems and fems like butches. I did tell Steve he could give her my number to maybe be friends. When he picked me up after work, he said he gave it to her and she was thrilled. If she’s ugly, so-so, or on the masculine side, then yeah, I bet she’s thrilled. She’ll definitely call too, and come over. I bet I’ll have no trouble getting her over here being the butch Steve says she is.

Kindy gave me her number to call her Sunday and I lost it!

Later…

Yes! I’m psyched! When I got home I couldn’t get messages cuz of the repairs they’re doing till just now. Scott actually left a message! He said he was out cold asleep till 5 PM yesterday. His message was left at 10 PM. He said to call when I get up and that he can move Andy on the 2nd of June and not the 1st.

I made over $100 at work and this idiot blew $30 on a gorgeous black lace jacket. Also, a 1-piece black and pink combo shorts/tank top. It zips right up the front. It fits perfectly.

Andy gave Velma that $15 for that straightening iron, so he now only owes me $135.

I can’t wait till he gets over his cold. I want to show him my new stuff.

I also tipped Pete $10, Kevin the doorman $3, then there was the $7 house tip and $37 for groceries. Oh, I also gave Steve $7 for waiting so patiently while I shopped.

The cashier gave me 2 out of the 4 packs of cigarettes I got for free for my being “cute.”

Later…

This is quite ridiculous. I must go to sleep within half an hour. Due to it being Sat., I’ll put my earplug in to be on the safe side and set the alarm for 2:00. If I get only 5 hours of sleep, oh well. I need to be getting up earlier.

I called Tammy and she’s gonna talk to Dad. She offered to. I didn’t ask. I said ok, but these people are in their 60s. They aren’t gonna change now. Tammy feels the same way about both of them.

I’m gonna try to sell Sammy and Meagan each a costume for $10. I’m gonna also try to sell Lorna my answering machine for $15.

Well, I’m gonna go hit the sack. I want to be awake between 2:00 and 3:00 so I can talk to Scott.

FRIDAY, MAY 21, 1993 My Second Crystal Creek Apartment…

Well, I just paged Steve.

I got a letter from Dad today that half upset me, half pissed me off. You know, I’m really sick of their shit, his and Ma’s.

Later…

I have a half-hour left and boy do I hope I make money tonight.

As far as my folks are concerned, why is it ok for them to insult me? It’s ok for them to speak their minds, but I can’t. I never said anyone was perfect, I’m just tired of being called a liar and all their other BS. I have no respect for my father when he sides with Mom like this, but they can’t take it, so tough! I never wanted our relationship to end, but I can’t deal with Mom’s shit in between everything else. Even Andy said it makes him want to call and bitch them out.

Still no response from Scott. A simple call from a payphone won’t kill him.

I left a note on the guy’s door downstairs. I said I tried knocking to introduce myself and got no answer. I left a note saying I work late, will try to be quiet. Let me know if my music’s too loud and don’t worry if he wants to blast his.

In other news, I’ve got to call DES (food stamps) to see if I can mail the stuff they need.

I called US West and they say the problem with the crossed lines will be fixed tomorrow. I am to call back around the 29th when my bill’s printed for a credit of two days. Lorna and I are still crossed today. We spoke earlier. She told me all about last night and of course, I played dumb. She may buy my answering machine from me.

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