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yunjardi · 1 year ago

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my heart bel♡ngs to daddy [series]

[young sugar daddy!jake × fem!reader]

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[click here for this series' masterlist to read previous chapters, general warnings, and playlist]

[!!chapter warnings!!: smut [mdni], angst, some fluff?, DADDY KINK, overstimulation, unprotected sex, reader gets lifted up, smoking weed, arguing, crying, mentions of food, mentions of toxic family (!!!) lmk if i missed anything!]

*sorry for any grammar errors

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-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-

chapter 15: lipstick stains

upon arriving home from the japan trip, you gave perry some extra food whilst telling him how much fun you had as if he was listening to your rambling. traveling is fun and all, but nothing beats the feeling of being able to take a shower in the comfort of your home before climbing into your own bed. really the only downside to coming back from a few days off is the work shifts you have to make up. good thing you had an earlier than usual shift; earlier shifts mean you'll have more free time later in the day when things get really busy.

it was quick for you to doze off considering that you had such an eventful few days and now you were thinking about working. but before you could fully fall asleep, you remembered to text jake. you knew he'd worry if you didn't text him at least once before you went to bed.

your tummy filled with butterflies from simply texting the guy, so you could only imagine how much more excited you'll be to see him.

an uneasiness crept up on you while you read the texts over and over again.

why did he speak to you as if he's your boyfriend?

why is he always so affectionate?

'whatever, it doesn't matter, i'll just sleep,' you forced yourself to stop thinking about it in order to get to sleep.

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you woke up at the ripe hour of 3PM in the afternoon which left you with only about an hour and a half to get ready for your shift. springing out of bed, you ran to begin getting ready.

since it was your first day back, you wanted to look extra appealing to the customers because tips are always appreciated, right?

you made sure to put on a bit of makeup to hide the fact that you'd woken up so late, and you headed off to the bar.

the bar had become a bit of an anxiety trigger ever since that girl came around, but you came to realize that she was probably just trying to start some shit because she was most likely bored. you were there to work and nothing else; she just happened to get in your way.

before you could even get to the break room to put your personal belongings in your locker, an excited yeji engulfed you in a tight hug.

"ah, it feels like forever since i last worked a shift with you! innie and i missed you so bad while you were away with your little boyfie in japan!" yeji blabbed excitedly while you two were still hugging, "innie was all sulky because he was stuck with me the whole time ha! you already know how i like to annoy him on purpose."

it made you feel genuine joy to know that your friends were at home waiting for you to come back. you decided to wait until you could all meet up to give them souvenirs that you bought them.

"i never wanna leave you guys again," you remarked as you two broke the hug to begin your shift. yeji nodded in agreement while you guys made sure your outfits were in check before heading out.

the feeling of mixing drinks again felt oddly comforting. after all, it's all you used to do before jake came around; taking care of your customers was something that was important to you because it was once your main source of income. but now that jake was in your life, you didn't have to worry too much about how many tips you made, though it still boosted your confidence to see stacks of cash being given to you.

secretly, you'd been saving up all your tips to get jake a nice gift as a way to thank him for everything. sex was still somewhat a way to 'thank him,' but your heart wanted to make something truly meaningful for some reason. you also didn't want to use jake's money to buy a gift that's for him, so that was a reason to work harder.

your plan was to buy a designer white, long-sleeve button up shirt and make a recreation of the iconic maison margiela kiss-mark shirt. you thought of buying him an original one, but 1. there are only a few in the entire world, and 2. it's a crazy expensive piece of clothing. but it's more personalized and truly one of a kind if you remade it yourself, so you were trying to earn and save as many tips as you possibly could. your backup plan if you didn't have enough money was to make him some sort of baked good that was decorated to say something not-so pg-13 as a little joke. you felt more driven to put even higher quality work into your job because of this. you almost didn't want your shift to end because you were hungry for as many tips you could get. plus, you were having a great workday since no one who's previously messed with you during a shift has shown up.

when the time came for your workday to end, you eagerly walked back into the staff lounge to gather your belongings and head home to count up your money. you hoped and prayed that you could slide by with the money you'd earned.

you wanted to give something, even if it wasn't much, back to him for giving you what you feel you didn't deserve. you always believed that he could put his time, money, and energy into someone or something else, but after he told you that he chose you, you couldn't help but feel guilty for the times you pushed him away, for the times you didn't trust him because you barely trust anyone.

'i want to prove myself to you,' you thought to yourself as you walked to the bus stop, 'i need and want to trust you.'

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the bus ride felt so long which made you even more antsy to get home, but you were more than happy to hop off the bus and speed-walk to your place.

you barged into your house, locking the door behind you before busting into your room to quickly count up your money. if you had enough, you were immediately going out to get the materials you needed so that you could finish tonight and give him his gift the next day.

your heart beat got faster as you realized that you had more than enough money to get everything you needed for your project and some supplies to bake something for him as well as an extra surprise. letting out an excited squeal, you quickly changed out of your work clothes to speed to the shopping center that was closing in an hour and a half.

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you swore that your heart rate hadn't slowed down until you got back home from the shops, hands full of everything you needed to begin making your gifts for jake.

you decided to mix the ingredients for a tray of brownies and put it in the oven so that you had enough time to complete the shirt just in time for the brownies to be baked. you managed to quickly get everything in the oven and began prepping the shirt soon after.

laying out the (outrageously overpriced) white gucci long-sleeve button up on the clean counter, you applied a shade of red lipstick that jake had bought you and began meticulously placing gently kiss marks on the top part of the shirt. it was, surprisingly, turning out better than you anticipated. once the lipstick was set, you took out some fabric paint you bought from the store to touch up the kiss marks, afterwards putting paint sealing solution onto all the kiss marks to further protect them.

as if the timing was perfect, you heard the oven beep. you hung the shirt up in your bedroom before placing the warm brownies on the counter to cool down. you couldn't help but smile to yourself as you imagined what jake's reaction may be to your gifts, especially the brownies.

once they were cool enough, you spelt out 'i love ur huge dick' in chocolate letters as a joke. you knew jake would have a good laugh before eating them. placing the finished brownies in a clear plastic container, you put them aside to begin packaging the shirt in a flat box.

there was one last touch to the gift that you'd been meaning to do for a little while.

you dug out a small ring box and placed a spare key to your house inside it. you figured that he deserved to have one considering how much he took care of you. plus, everyone, 'everyone' meaning yeji and jeongin, who you'd trust with your life had one, therefore it'd be fitting if jake had one.

placing the dainty little ring box inside the same box that contained the shirt, you sealed it so it was ready for you to take to his house the next day.

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the next day came quickly, and you hopped out of bed to gussy up before calling a taxi to head to his place since it'd be quicker to do it that way than if you were to go on the underground train.

you wore a cute, short, pleated white skirt paired with a black and white prada cardigan, white knee-high stockings, and some simple black prada heels to tie the outfit together. you wanted to look pretty for jake since you were showing up to his place unannounced.

the taxi ride to his place was quite long considering that he lived on the opposite side of the city, the city being heavily divided by social class, but it was interesting to look around at the other houses.

finally, you arrived outside the gate of jake's house, typing in the security code that jake gave you to open the gate. now, you had to practically trek across his extravagant front yard and circular driveway just to get to the damn front door. the walk you had to take throughout the front yard felt longer than the taxi ride.

you reached out to ring the doorbell, hearing it echo through the house from outside. since jake's ahem- mansion was quite large, you always expected to wait a minute before he actually came to let you in; it was honestly painfully awkward to just stand there. finally, you heard the door unlock, and you were greeted by a shirtless jake clad in only joggers and a small towel around his nape. you also could help but notice that his hair was now a shade of brown which made you laugh do yourself because of how you made fun of him about doing bald. regardless, his image was making you blush.

"oh, princess," jake said with surprise in his tone, "i didn't expect you to come this early in the day." he smiled sheepishly as he witnessed the shock in your face from seeing him shirtless as if you hadn't seen him in this state a million times. "well, i came early because i brought gifts!" you smiled at jake as he guided you inside, his hand on your lower back. "that reminds me," jake smiled, "i have something for you as well." you couldn't help but become shy at the thought of jake getting you a gift even though he does it literally all the time.

once you got into his main lounge area, you set the clear brownie container and the gift box side by side on his coffee table. jake hovered over the container to read the little message you left on the brownie slab, his giggle turning into his signature laugh. jake moved toward you, hugging you from behind.

"well, if you love it so much, why don't you fuck it?" jake asked you teasingly, gently biting and kissing your neck. "now?" you asked with wide eyes to which jake responded with a hum, the feeling of jake's hard becoming prominent against your back. "if you say so," you shrugged, trying to tease him by seeming nonchalant.

jake moved onto one side of the couch, tossing the towel that was once around his nape onto the table whilst inviting you to sit on his lap.

he pulled you into a messy kiss as you began to grind your hips down hard against his, jake feeling the soft moans you were letting out against his lips.

without breaking the kiss, jake managed to get you out of your clothes, besides your knee high stockings which jake found incredibly sexy, and have you grinding on his bulge. you moved your hands to pull his joggers and boxers off, still as impressed as ever at the sight of his cock. pushing your hips toward him, you took hold of his member and put it against your lower stomach, admiring how deep his cock would be buried inside you. seeing you 'measure' how deep he would be turned him on even more, which he didn't even think was possible considering the fact that he's already fully hard and hot and bothered.

jake quickly lifted your hips, impatient and wanting to be inside you. feeling his thick tip pass through the first few inches of your entrance made you go insane, your walls already tightening around jake's cock. "it barely fits yet you still take every inch so well, princess," jake praised, "now be a good girl and start moving for me, okay?" you nodded in compliance as you gently lifted your hips and collided into his, jake letting out a satisfied groan. jake was so deep inside you that you swore you could feel him all the way in your stomach.

he let you bounce on his cock, adoring how cute you were while moaning as you fell into spells of pleasure. "fuck," you let out a whiny moan, biting your lip gently afterward, "you feel so good, jakey. it's so deep inside me." jake smirked at the way he could feel your thighs gently trembling on top of his, knowing that you were falling apart over his dick.

at this point in time, jake was fully just thinking with his dick which led him to swiftly get up off the couch, still holding you, and begin fucking you while standing up.

your eyes were rolling back as you moaned loudly for him. you were so overtaken by pleasure that you couldn't even let him know that you were about to cum. the feeling of your cum running down jake's hard-on had him fucking you harder, faster. even after all this time, jake's stamina still takes you by surprise. no one could ever do it like jake; he's the only one who could make you go this crazy.

jake soon brought you back to the couch, still not finished with you. he roughly turned you around so that you were facing away from him and made sure you were comfortable before shoving himself back inside you. you let out a loud moan at the sensation before jake began thrusting into you from below, his hands running all over your body yet still keeping you steady at the same time. you, once again, found yourself cumming all over his cock without warning, your orgasm washing over you in waves. "mmm fuck," you whined out, still being stuffed with jake's member, "that feels so good, daddy."

not long after you, jake's orgasm also took over him, hot ropes of cum spurting into you as you tried to catch your breath. it was probably one of the craziest orgasms jake has ever had.

still quietly panting, you let jake pull out so that you could plop down on the couch next to him.

"you're fucking insane, you know that?" you asked with a light laugh once your breathing slowed down. "only because of you, you know that?" jake countered your comment, nudging you on the shoulder playfully before standing up to retrieve some wet wipes from one of the bathrooms so that you two could clean up.

"here, i'll go upstairs and get us some clothes," jake smiled at you as you now tried to hide your body away as if he hasn't seen it a million times already, "if we don't cover up soon, we'll probably end up fucking again." jake joked and let out a laugh, though you both knew his statement was fully true. taking his discarded sweatpants with him, he headed upstairs to his bedroom to fetch some clothes.

you took that time to put your underwear and bra back on before jake came back downstairs. after all, it was kinda starting to feel weird just sitting fully naked in his mansion that had huge windows off to the side from where you were sitting.

soon, jake came back fully dressed and holding out something for you to put on: one of his short-sleeve shirts, a pair of your leggings, and those mid-calf nike socks that you thought were obscurely over priced for just a pack of 4 (but you had to admit that you loved them).

"ah, i forgot your gift," jake sighed as he remembered that he'd left the gift he had for you all the way upstairs, "wait right here, i'm gonna wrap it real nice since it's still up there." he flashed his cheeky yet shy smile, slightly embarrassed that he had 1. forgotten it and 2. hadn't even packaged it yet. "you're silly," you laughed as jake dragged his socks on the marble floors to get back over to the stairs.

you took it upon yourself to get up and go place your gifts for jake over on the kitchen counter since the brownies seemed out of place just sitting on the coffee table. picking up the brownie container and gift box, you headed over to the kitchen to place them both on the counter.

glancing off to the side, you noticed two glass cups next to each other. of course, you wouldn't have thought much of it because why would you, but you couldn't help but notice that one of the cups' rims had faint traces of red lipstick on it.

suddenly, your stomach felt sick. you couldn't tell if you were upset or angry. all you knew was that you wanted to get the hell out of his house.

you sped over to the coffee table, swiftly retrieving your bag and walking into the foyer where you put on a pair of sneakers, that you usually left at his house, and walked out the door.

you didn't slam his door per se, but you closed the door loud enough to make it known that you were leaving.

quickly, you dashed down his driveway and front yard, making it outside of the gate before hailing a cab to take you home.

it took everything in your power to not start crying in the taxi, your phone now ringing off the hook with multiple calls and texts from jake wondering where the hell you ran off to.

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"yeah, and n-now i f-feel h-horrible," you blubbered to yeji over the phone after explaining the situation and how you made the gift yourself only to be confronted by lipstick stains from someone else, "i literally d-don't even w-wanna think about h-him. god, i could puke right n-now." you sniffled loudly and blowed your nose into a tissue. "my sweet y/n," yeji sighed softly, genuinely feeling for you, "i know, i know, let it all out. heck, you could even scream at me if you want to. but seriously, he's such a jerk for that." yeji continued to listen to all the little things you had to say whilst she tried her best to cheer you up.

yeji was really the only other girl you had in your life besides literally yourself. you knew that you couldn't lean on any other woman for issues like this; especially not your mom for because she's on another level of asshole-ness, you didn't talk to your siblings either, your sisters in specific who you could really use right now, at all, so without yeji, you'd probably be doomed when it came to stuff like this.

"honestly," you sniffled, "...i feel like smoking weed right now." yeji couldn't help but chuckle at you. "go ahead, girl, just be safe or you'll get it from me" yeji joked from the other line, "anyways, you know exactly who to call for that stuff."

after hanging up the phone with yeji, you went straight to your contacts, calling someone else up while trying your hardest to avoid all of the missed calls and texts from jake.

"hey, yeonjun."

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knock, knock, knock.

you sprung up from your bed upon hearing the knocks at the door.

looks like yeonjun is finally here.

you opened the door and were greeted by his sly smile as usual.

you offered him to stay the night since you two would be getting high together, and you didn't want him driving home whilst not being sober. he, of course, jumped at the opportunity.

"hey, it's been a little while," you laughed quietly as he pulled you into a hug, "thanks for showing up on such short notice."

"oh, it's no problem, really," yeonjun shrugged with a chuckle, "now that university is over, i have nothing else to do."

you led him over to your room so that he could set his bag down and get everything ready. he made sure to bring some food over as well since weed tends to make you hungry. yeonjun may seem like the type of guy to just go over to a girl's house and not think about anything but getting some action, but he cared deep down.

both of you sat on the couch, and yeonjun got everything ready for you two to start smoking.

you let him take the first hit, watching him inhale deeply before letting the smoke pass through his pretty lips.

they weren't as pretty as jake's, though.

passing the blunt over to you, he let you take a hit before he pulled you closer and put his arm around your shoulder.

"you don't look the way you usually do," yeonjun pointed out, "there's something wrong, isn't there?" you sighed out after your next hit, nodding in defeat as you rested your head on his arm. "do you wanna talk about it, beautiful? a pretty girl like you should always be smiling," yeonjun asked, not forgetting to add a dash of flirting as he usually did.

"do you remember jake?" you asked as you passed the blunt to him, him nodding before taking a hit, "i think he's seeing someone else at the same time as we're having a... thing, if you can even call it that. i went to his place earlier today to bring him some gifts that i made him the night prior as a surprise, and i saw that he had two cups in his sink, one of them stained with dark red lipstick. it made me feel shitty, so i decided to leave without saying a word to him." you explained between the passing of the almost gone blunt which prompted yeonjun to get up and prepare his bong to smoke from.

"bro is a fucking sleaze, seriously. and i'm not just saying that to make you feel better, i'm saying it because i think you deserve someone who won't lead you on like that. please don't think that you're at fault for being upset," yeonjun reassured you, putting his arm around you again and letting you fall into him after taking another deep inhale of weed, "god, he's a fucking dick for that."

you couldn't help but let a few tears roll down your face as you opened up to him about what happened. you weren't even particularly close to yeonjun, but he just felt so trustworthy. were those thoughts maybe a side effect from being high? possibly. did you really care? nope. you just needed to get everything off your chest.

"please don't cry," yeonjun said upon feeling his shirt become wet with tears, "he is not worth it. guys aren't supposed to leave women in tears like this. remember that, okay?" you nodded as yeonjun helped you dry your tears.

at this point, you couldn't even keep count of how many hits of weed you'd taken. all you knew right now is that you were overcome with intense sadness, barely being able to stop your tears as yeonjun hugged you tight, his sweet cologne tickling your nose.

you were so out of it from your emotions paired with weed that you didn't even notice how quickly you drifted off to sleep.

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waking up, you didn't expect to feel your mattress underneath you. you got up and peered out your open door, seeing yeonjun fast asleep on your couch with a cozy blanket and pillow underneath his head.

quietly, you snuck over to your bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror and staring at how shitfaced you looked from smoking all night. you decided to brush your teeth, wash your face, and fix your hair a bit to see if it'd make you feel better.

you suddenly heard the bathroom door creak open, seeing yeonjun's reflection in the mirror.

"oops, i didn't even think of knocking," he looked down sheepishly. "don't worry about it," you chuckled in response, "i was just on my way out anyway. wanna go out to get breakfast or something?" yeonjun nodded, already beginning to brush his teeth. you smiled at him before walking out of the bathroom to give him privacy.

while you were waiting on him, you decided to plop onto your bed and check your phone.

the calls and texts from jake were reaching the hundreds at this point. from what you could see, he'd been texting you almost all night.

you felt your stomach tie itself into a knot. you slid your phone to the other side of the bed and lied down, pretending to sleep so that yeonjun would leave you be once he got out of the bathroom.

you felt like sobbing your eyes out.

you hadn't gotten texts like these since you left home all those years ago.

shutting your eyes tightly, you tried to think about something else, anything else, but you simply couldn't.

the bathroom door creaked open, yeonjun walking out and spotting you on your bed. he figured that you went back to sleep and decided to chill on the couch until you "woke up."

suddenly, you heard a weird noise that startled you a bit, but you decided to ignore it until you heard the door open.

your soul fully sunk through your body. you forgot that you gave jake a spare key.

"and what do you think you're doing here?" you heard jake's deep aussie accent question yeonjun as you gulped. "i should be the one asking you that question," yeonjun argued back, "y/n? are you awake? we've got some company."

you had to bite the bullet, you had to. you crept out of your room, seeing jake and yeonjun staring at each other with fury in their eyes.

"jake, what are you doing here..." you sighed out as you looked down. jake ran toward you, relieved that you were safe. he reached over to pull you into an embrace which you rejected. jake swore the world stopped spinning when you moved yourself away from it; you'd never done something that...cold.

"uh, s-should i leave?" yeonjun asked awkwardly though still worried. "i advise you do," jake replied to him immediately. "don't talk to my friends like that..." you glared at him, causing him to stiffen.

"okay, i'll go," yeonjun sighed as he walked over to grab his backpack off the floor, "but if i hear that you put your hands on her, you're done for; i'll fuck you up, remember that." before he walked out the door, made sure to mouth 'be safe' to you.

"what the fuck, jake?!" you yelled out once the door was shut, "you didn't have to be aggressive with him! h-he was just helping me with something." it wasn't a complete lie.

"if anything, i should be asking you 'what the fuck!' you literally haven't contacted me since you abruptly left my house yesterday evening no matter how many times i messaged and called you! you had me worried sick! what the hell is going on?! was he here all night? is that why you didn't talk to me? did i interrupt your little fling?" jake rebuttaled.

"you're one to talk about having a little fling," you said under your breath before going off, "you're the one having girls over at your house one after another! you probably dyed your hair for her too... you were probably shirtless and fresh out of the shower because you had something going on before i got there, huh? you're lucky she left before i got there, right? she would've been so upset to see another girl over, wouldn't she? i saw that lipstick stained cup, jake, and i'm absolutely over it. i'm not just gonna sit here and act like i'm fine with this because i'm not."

jake sighed in frustration as he put his forehead on one of his hands. "look, it's seriously not what you think-"

"don't waste your breath. get out, get out and go back to her. what you do is none of my business; i don't give a fuck anymore."

"y/n, fucking listen to me, okay?!"

you flinched at the way he raised his voice. for the second time today, you were brought back to when you were still living with your shitty family. the yelling was getting to be too much, and you were trying your hardest to conceal the tears that threatened to pour from your eyes.

jake noticed how your body seemed to stiffen at how he was talking to you, and he felt horrible about it, but it was the only way you'd listen; he knew you well.

"that girl who was at my house prior to you coming over was the same girl who'd been harassing you at work. she came over unannounced to whine and question why i took you with me to japan instead of her, and i explained everything to her. i kindly asked her to butt out and which only made her angrier. she's trying to get between us, and i don't know what else to do but wait things out and hope she eventually leaves us alone and-"

"if i'm you're "everything," then why are you having such a hard time being assertive toward her? i trusted you, jake... i thought you actually cared, but it seems like you don't anymore."

so much for wanting to trust him, right?

jake's eyes widened in shock at the sudden realization that you heard him say that you're his everything when you guys were back in japan.

"w-wait, you heard that?" jake asked.

"wow, is that really what you're worried about right now? the fact that i heard you lie?"

"i wasn't lying! y/n, please stop being like this. i was serious then, and i'm still serious now. please don't cry."

you honestly didn't even realize you began crying until he pointed it out. frantically, you wiped your tears in embarrassment.

"h-how do y-you expect me t-to believe y-you?" you hiccuped through your tears, "j-just admit t-that y-you don't c-care about m-me." you fully sobbed your eyes out in front of him, your emotions making your body physically weak.

"y/n," jake's voice broke as tears rolled down his cheeks, "i-i just- i really care about you. fuck it, y/n, i can't take it anymore-

i love you..."

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a/n: dramaaaaaaa hehe, i hope you enjoyed this one 🩷 it's very plot heavy, but i hope you were able to read it all the way through without falling asleep 😭

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p.s. i removed lots of accs from the taglist that i have never been able to tag, so pls lmk if you don't see yourself here but you originally asked to be on the taglist! tysm!

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blinkilite · 10 months ago

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I had the amazing privilege of seeing Michael Sheen in Nye a few nights ago at the National Theatre.

The play:

Nye was amazing. Michael was brilliant and in command of the stage the whole time. I am not a big theater-goer. So this was a big deal for me. But seeing him perform on stage was just wonderful. I truly appreciate his skills on a whole new level now. The rest of the cast was brilliant too. They each played multiple roles throughout the timeline of the play. I highly recommend going to see it if you can. He sings! He dances! I cried! I laughed! I’m trying my best to give you a spoiler free review! But I promise you won’t be disappointed. 😊 it’s really really good. 👍 Go! Support Michael and the arts!

My personal experience:

I had a mix of excitement and anxiety all day but it really amped up when I got to the theater. Like omg this is really happening. I took a pic by the poster and it’s obvious I am an excited weirdo. 😆

Now that I was here, the next step was going to the national theatre gift shop. They had a lot of cute things and a really cool display for Nye.

I purchased my program and the cashier was very friendly. She complimented my Good Omens pin and said they usually come out stage door so make sure to go around back after, and enjoy the show. 😊 (internally squeeing) I thanked her and we went and got some food and a cider.

We made our way to the doors and were led to our seats. Then I started getting the omg we’re here this is actually happening mentality. We were pretty close. An omg he will be right there! Soon! 😬

We had 8th row seats 😳 it seemed very close and I was freaking out.

I read some reviews and saw the newly released press photos of the play. So I knew a little what to expect of the show too, but honestly it was sooo good. I don’t want to give away any spoilers because the play is AMAZING. Michael and the rest of the cast did so well. Michael is very active and moved all over the stage. I am so impressed by his abilities as an actor. He fucking sings! And it’s wonderful! And our seats were close enough to see all the micro expressions on his face. 😃 If you have the means to go and see this either in London or later in Wales - GO! You will not regret it.

At the end I took a pic of the actors (though I didn’t get everyone) and I got the very end when Nye can see the impact of his accomplishments.

Now for the fangirling part of my night. I was trying my best not to be a complete dork. I knew from other fans previously posting that he typically comes out at the stage door after the show. So I had an idea what to expect. He came out pretty soon after the show ended. I’m guessing there were maybe 50-60ppl there. He just started talking to people, signing things, taking photos like this is no big deal. And they would leave and it would be the next person’s turn. Everyone was very considerate of each other and Michael’s time. And he was kind and generous and spoke genuinely to each person and made so many people happy that night. just by being himself and taking some extra time before he went home. He really is an angel. ❤️

Eventually it was my turn. Somehow I didn’t mumble or giggle like an idiot. where did I find the ability to speak? - I really have no idea 🤷‍♀️ I told him the show was amazing. He thanked me. And while signing my program I told him we came over from America for my birthday to see him. He wished us luck in the rest of our trip. I got a selfie with him and internally died. He wished me happy birthday (died again). I thanked him and then it was the next person’s turn. I walked about 50ft away and jumped up and down like an idiot. Hopefully he didn’t see.

But holy shit. 😃

I met Michael Sheen!!!! 😃❤️😃

And he was the nicest person ever. 😃😃😃

#michael sheen #nye #national theatre #did this actually happen?#I met Michael Sheen #holy shit #best birthday ever

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thedgeoftheuniverse · 4 months ago

Text

AND IN THEIR TRIUMPH DIE | chapter 1

— Seven years after the Outbreak, all efforts to find a cure have been unsuccessful. Nearly a forgotten pipe dream, it's kept alive by a small team of scientists scattered across the country and fiercely guarded by what remains of the military. It was coincidence that brought the missing piece to the cure into the hands of Levi Squad. It was sheer misfortune that it would carry him across the country.

[ WORD COUNT: 4.3k ]

[ levi ackerman x fem!reader ]

[ TAGS/WARNINGS: violence, loss of a limb, cursing, reader described as severely malnourished, mentions of contamination from germs, awful descriptions of lockpicking, levi definitely has anxiety. please continue with caution if these are sensitive subjects for you <3 ]

“Christ!—Levi! Watch out!”

Fifteen minutes.

No pause.

No reprieve.

Just a full-blown sprint.

“Pick up your goddamn feet, four eyes, or I swear to Christ, I’ll feed you to the assholes myself!”

The formation was ruined. The plan went to absolute shit.

“I’m trying—he’s heavier than he looks, ya’know!” As though he wasn’t carrying him too.

“Mikasa will kill us if we bring this sorry sack of shit back in more than two pieces—if I don't get to you first.” Levi decided to spare himself the wasted breath of adding that the kid had an extra foot of height and one hundred pounds of weight on him, and he still was not struggling the way they were.

“Levi!” Their leader chastised, jamming his blade through the sinus cavity of a particularly soft-headed Runner. “Leave Hange be and move it. Or have you forgotten what we're doing here?” There was an authoritativeness there that was hardly ever used on him.

Perhaps the jab was poorly timed.

A pained yelp escaped from the boy as the pair had to lift him over fallen debris. Levi’s unfortunately small build meant he had to assist for a moment and put weight on his injured leg to clear the obstacle. “It’s okay, Eren. Just hang on—me and Levi gotcha. We’re almost there.” He could only respond with a groan.

(If only he knew it was a damn lie.)

(He probably did.)

He was going into shock.

“Erwin,” Hange cried, “you gotta give us something here.”

“There’s more buildings around the corner.” He was so out of breath. His words hardly made sense: “They can't all possibly be boarded up.”

Too much was happening. Too much had already happened. Too much that could not be undone, and too much would haunt Levi for many sleepless nights to come.

His group of six turned to four, with one member rapidly approaching an involuntary amputation from a tourniquet fashioned from a decaying leather belt and a hacksaw, and Levi with a nasty sprain—he could hardly remember how it happened. He was sure that if anyone other than Erwin and Hange were left, he would've been long dead and beginning incubation.

It all happened so quickly.

They were so quiet.

It was only a few seconds; he knew that for certain.

The last thing he recalled was Hange rambling about their breakthroughs in stimulating fine motor skills in newly turned Infected—how it’s another lead for the cure. Levi only half listened, briefly catching another one of their theories about recovering explicit memories in different regions of their brains. None of it made much sense to him, and he stopped trying to decipher it for several years now, having long given up on Hange’s ability to further any research for the cure—not because he doubted their intelligence but because a cure was impossible. Eren was complaining about the heat—understandably so, as Virginian summers were known for their brutality. Erwin walked by Levi’s side in silence, aside from his periodic warnings to Hange and Eren to keep their volume to a whisper and their occasional gripe in response. The remaining two members (they arrived only two weeks prior, much to Levi’s disdain. It was their first run.) hovered near the back line and listened in on the periodic childish banter between Hange and Eren, though they were primarily distracted by an old Tamogachi they found tucked inside of a rusted-out Nissan.

They were the first ones to go.

Their screams were the only signal to the other four that Infected were on their asses.

Eren, a notoriously suicidal maniac and practically a child that Levi knew was not ready for more challenging runs, tried saving them.

He was going to lose his leg for it.

Most likely his life too.

In the chaos of it all, thoughts of Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Jean—the faces of the people he’s spent the last seven godforsaken years with—filled Levi’s head. And in that split second, he became reckless. He made an uncharacteristically impulsive decision based on his own feelings rather than what he knew made sense. He should have left the brat behind to suffer the consequences—he knew that made sense. He would have done it with nearly anyone else. But in that split second, he thought of how he watched those insufferable brats at home (though he isn't sure he truly thought of them as such anymore) all grow up together; how they were still just a bunch of damn kids sitting together at the dinner table; how Eren’s mother brushed his unruly hair out of his eyes and gave him her only hair tie to make sure he could keep it out of his face; he thought of how he was supposed to tell them—to tell his mother that Eren was dead because he was too practical to do anything about it.

He knew he wouldn't be able to.

In that brief moment of distraction and all-consuming empathy, Levi went for Eren, knowing if anyone had a chance at getting him out of there, it would be him.

In the end, Levi misstepped, suffering a nasty sprain in his ankle. Eren was still bitten, and he was still going to die regardless of his interference.

(Why was he never fast enough?)

Their formation couldn't hold with just the three of them. There was no one for backup, no room for error, and no window to fight. Their only option was to run and drag Eren along.

“Why the hell didn’t you let Erwin handle him?” He was never great at holding his tongue in moments like this. It seemed as though he saved his breath specifically to spend on berating his companions when all hell broke loose.

(Hange was used to it at this point.)

Sweat poured down Levi’s forehead, burning his eyes and obscuring his vision as he supported well more than half of Eren’s weight on his left side. With every step he took, Hange seemed to support less and less of his weight. His ankle screamed in pain with every step, the potency of adrenaline having worn off as a painkiller. His hand was sweating as he held his machete, which was missing an approximate half of the blade, and he struggled to keep it in his grasp while he stumbled through the broken, pothole-infested city streets.

(Apparently some of the skulls were too hard for a half-rusted blade.)

(Or perhaps the machete was too dull after slicing through nearly twenty Infected. No matter, a portion of Levi’s blade was forever embedded in the nasal cavity of a freshly turned Runner in a mechanic’s jumpsuit.)

“You're useless with your ankle like that, and I’m out of ammo, and my pack is—”

“I fucking know the situation, four eyes!”

“Then why are you asking—!”

“Hange! Levi!” Erwin, forever the voice of reason, shouted, “That’s more than enough! You can bicker when we're safe.”

At the same time, Levi spoke: “Why are you the only one struggling!?”

“LEVI!”

He decided to silence any further complaints, not wanting to endure another lecture when—if—this was over. He wanted to tell Erwin that if safety is what they're waiting for, then he may as well cut out his tongue now and spend the rest of his days in silence. He reckoned Erwin would have an infuriatingly eloquent response along the lines of, ‘I fail to see how that would differ much from your usual day-to-day, Captain.’ And—as much as it pained him to admit—Hange was right. His ankle put him in no position to be leading them through the city or carving through Infected, Hange was out of ammo and lost their supply bag to the pack behind them—it wasn't looking good for the three of them, but Erwin had the best chance of guiding them to safety.

“There!” Erwin shouted. “Up ahead, to the right—that hardware store!”

For the first time in about one hundred yards, Levi looked ahead of him as opposed to Eren’s bleeding, rapidly discoloring leg and the potholes littering the streets. The first thing he noticed was the wooden planks, chairs, tables, and various couches blocking the entrance of every store lining the downtown. Then he noticed the barricades did not look all that old—maybe two weeks. It wasn't an uncommon sight… at the start. Plenty of larger communities were holed up in cities and downtowns, capitalizing on the space and sewer systems below, when everything first started. It seemed practical at the time.

Those communities typically failed within the first couple years. He hasn't heard of a successful one in the area in at least four years. It should have looked decrepit.

Not recently vacated.

And then he noticed the lone storefront Erwin was locked on. With no planks, no furniture to block the entrance, only a chair pushed a few feet off to the side, a thick line of chain link between two door handles, and a padlock hanging in the center. And he noticed how strange that was.

Out of the dozens of buildings we’ve run past, why is this the only one? And was everything so boarded up when we scouted this last month?

Levi had a bad feeling about this, one that made his stomach ache. “We should find another.” When did his voice become so hoarse? It felt as though he had swallowed razor blades.

“What? Are you crazy?” Hange added.

“Something isn't right here, Erwin.”

“We’re not arguing. Levi—take care of that lock. Hange—you take my weapons and hold them off. I’ll hold onto Eren.”

Levi had a bad feeling about this. It seemed no one else did.

He passed off Eren to Erwin, who was able to hold him in his arms with what seemed to be little to no effort despite his fatigue, while Hange (who was objectively the best shot, aside from Levi) fired off rounds into the crowd of Infected.

“Levi,” Erwin called, dragging out the last syllable to feign placidity. “How close are we?”

He was too absorbed in selecting the right pick to respond.

“Hurry it up, shorty; we only have so many rounds left.”

“Can it, four eyes! Just- just hold them off.” His fingers weren't as deft in lockpicking as they used to be, having been years out of practice. Infected rapidly closed in on them, their groans echoing off the buildings and the stench of death emanating from their decaying maws, making his hands shake and his stomach turn. Or maybe it was the lack of food. Oh God, was he panicking? The situation was fucked; he knew that—was it worse than even his own consciousness knew?

God, when was the last time Eren made a sound? Was he still alive?

Were they all going to die?

Was it all for nothing?

“LEVI.” Erwin shouted, squaring his shoulders, preparing for the likelihood of having to toss Eren to the side. Fuck, what was happening to him? He never lost his nerve. He never panicked. Had the pain from his ankle left him delirious?

“Hold the fuck on!”

“I’ve got six left, headshots or not; I can't handle them all!”

They were getting closer. They were so much closer. He still had three out of four pins left, and he was almost confident that his rake pick was not meant for this lock. The relentless groans of Infected began to sound more like a steady roar—like he was a child holding a seashell to his ear in one of his nightmares—and distracted him from the task at hand.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath from his stomach, like his mother always told him as a child. Fear has never been a luxury that was afforded to him.

The second pin gave way.

“Almost there.” His voice finally steadied.

Images of his mother flashed before his eyes. Why would he think of her now?

And the third.

“Erwin, get ready to bar the doors!”

Only one more left.

"Hange, grab that chair; we can use it to brace the handle.”

Snap.

And the world seemed to stop for a moment.

Levi wasn't sure what he was actually looking at. He thought he was seeing one half of his lockpick in his palm while the other was broken off inside the lock, with no feasible way of removing the thin piece of metal to retry with another pick—but that wasn't possible. No. No, he was about to have the door opened, and the four of them were going to be inside in just a few seconds. They were going to perform a shoddy amputation on Eren’s leg, wrap up his ankle, and find a way out of the city and back to their camp. It surely had to be fatigue, dehydration, or early signs of a heat stroke because Levi did not fuck up like this when lives were on the line.

(There was only one accident.)

(But he was better. He got better, and it was so long ago. He made a full recovery, and he vowed to never make that mistake again.)

How was he doing it again?

“FUCK.”

“Levi, what happened?!”

“The goddamn pick broke off in the lock. I can't get it out.”

He was sure he would never forget the looks on their faces if they managed to live past this. Erwin’s shoulders dropped, his eyes closed, and his brows were slightly furled. It was almost as if he were wincing away from Levi’s words—maybe even Levi himself. Hange’s jaw dropped, their eyes as wide as saucers underneath their glasses, with a look of pure shock. Eren, who remained mostly out of it, tensed his jaw.

He could feel their disappointment in him.

They were all going to die.

It didn't matter how strong he was; it didn't matter how good his aim was; it didn't matter how fast, silent, knowledgeable, or small he was. None of it mattered. It was never going to be enough in the end.

It wasn't before. He wasn't quite sure why he thought it would've been different this time.

“Alright… We hold on as long as we can. If we’re going to die today, then we take as many of the bastards with us as we can.”

“What makes you so certain we’re dying today, Commander?” Levi said, slowly bringing himself to his feet, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Aww man… I was really looking forward to examining that bite wound.” Hange pouted.

“We’re soldiers, Captain. We’re certain to die every day. But give your heart here today, and we might live to see one more.”

That son of a bitch. Even knows how to make dying seem like a contribution. “You sound ridiculous.”

They were closing in.

The stench was nearly unbearable, and Levi hated the thought of walking around as one of those disgusting creatures. He’d rather burn in Hell than suffer such condemnation. He hoped someone would put him out of his misery soon enough.

The machete would have to do. Hange emptied the last of their rounds into the monsters and took out a small blade they kept sheathed on their thigh. Erwin was left without a weapon.

“OVER HERE.”

A shrill voice called out to them, nearly sounding like an angel amidst the chaos.

“Follow me!” It only took a single glance between the three of them to agree to follow the voice.

Erwin continued with Eren in his arms, while Hange braced Levi to help him run faster. They were led down a narrow alleyway, then to the right, and then left, all while the ravenous hoard stayed close on their trail. The sharp turns of the blocks helped deter them, but it wasn't enough. The pain in his ankle was nearly unbearable, and sweat burned his eyes, but it was too late to stop, and turning back wasn't an option.

“Here!" the voice called. A large, metal door was opened, and the four of them were being taken into what seemed to be a poor excuse for an office. No sooner than the door slammed shut did the Infected begin beating, clawing, and banging on the door, making the whole room feel tense. Levi looked between Hange and Erwin, who didn't appear to have any bites, scratches, or open wounds from their final sprint.

And then his eyes shot to you.

The first thing he noticed was how concerningly malnourished you were: dead eyes sunken into deep sockets, collarbones protruding beneath the collar of a thin, long-sleeved shirt with half-rolled sleeves, limp hair on your head, and an excess of body hair covering what was visible of your skin—you were slowly starving to death. The next thing he took in was the pistol on your hip and the knife on your belt—both contained and clasped within a holster. He didn't overlook how your hands shook as you held them out in front of you. In fact, your entire body was wracked with tremors. It seemed that the dead sprint back to your base (for lack of a better word) took the last scraps of energy your emaciated frame held. Your eyes drooped, your shoulders sagged, your head seemed too heavy for your neck, and you looked slightly disoriented.

It was a miracle you made it to them to begin with.

By all accounts, you were no threat to them.

Levi reckoned even Eren could overpower you in his current state.

However, in Levi’s current state, that didn't matter.

What mattered was Eren's leg. The discolored veins radiating from the bite on his ankle and up to his calf. The tourniquet that Hange tied from their belt and the dirty rag stuffed in his mouth to keep him from biting his own tongue off when the sawing started. The dull hacksaw and the last of their rubbing alcohol being poured on its blade. Hange’s heavy breathing. The five hearts beating in the room and the four that meant anything to him. The knowledge that it was up to him to make sure Hange was not disturbed while Erwin held him down. The stench of rot that was invading his senses. The sheer adrenaline pumping in his veins and a faint throbbing in his skull that reminded him of how hungry he was.

What mattered was you—who you are and who you were. Where you came from. Why you helped them, and why you waited until the last second to do it. Why you were starving but surrounded by a surplus of food. What your motive was for saving them. When you planned to show your hand and what cards you would be holding. If you were bluffing or holding a full house.

What mattered was that you were an anomaly.

The last of his energy was shifted into you, and he began invading your space, doing his best to fight off the pain in his ankle and subsequently noticeable limp in an effort to intimidate you. His efforts were not in vain, if the way you backed into the wall behind you was any indication. But there was an unsettling look in your half-lidded eyes that gave him pause—something wild that told him he had just cornered a stray animal that had nothing left to lose.

(He knew what he needed to do.)

(He knew how to tame a wild animal.)

He continued his trajectory forward until your spine was flush with the wall. Leaning slightly on his toes, Levi caged you in with his forearm against the base of your throat and his broken machete kissing the bottom of your jaw. What he lacked in height, he made up for in strength as you desperately tried to claw his arm away. He nicked your skin as a warning, as if to tell you that one more wrong move would end with his blade piercing through your jaw and kissing the bottom of your soft palate.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I'm not sure that's how you talk to someone who just saved your ass.” You hardly had the energy to speak. Up close, Levi could see the deep cracks in your lips and the discoloration under your eyes. You were trembling and on your last leg.

“Oh yeah? And how would you talk to someone holding a knife to your throat?”

“Touché.” You whispered, breathing heavily.

The silence, while only lasting a few seconds, spanned an eternity while the two of you were locked in a staring contest. No one dared to move. No one dared to speak.

“Eren, you're going to need to breathe for me. Can you do that?” Hange’s voice broke the silent battle. All he could do was whimper behind the rag stuffed in his mouth. “Bite. Hard. This is going to hurt.”

They were going directly below the knee. It’s possible he would've only lost a few inches above his ankle had they gotten away sooner.

“What are you doing to him?”

“None of your business, rat. Where’s the rest of your people hiding?”

“I’m alone.”

“Bullshit.”

Levi vaguely registered Eren’s breathing picking up behind him. His heart hammered into his throat.

“Okay, Eren. On the count of three...”

He was already screaming.

“One…”

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing to him?”

Levi pressed even harder into your throat, effectively cutting your air supply and forcing broken coughs from your chest. He tried not to wince at your spit landing on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Two…”

He was sure he had never heard someone scream like that. And God, has he heard his fair share.

“Three.”

A bloodcurdling, agonizing scream came from him. Something entirely inhuman, too monstrous to even have belonged to one of the Infected.

And then nothing.

“What the hell, four eyes?”

“He’s passed out. Probably the best we can hope for. But he’s losing too much blood.” Levi reckoned that was an understatement, considering the sheer amount covering the floor, Erwin’s pant legs, and Hange’s arms.

“I have a Bunsen burner.”

“Did I say you could fucking speak?”

“Wait, we need that. We're going to need something to cauterize this, or he’s never making it back to camp. But—wait, there's no gas lines in here, the thing is useless."

“Don't need it. It's just a glorified camp stove—butane-powered but does the same thing.”

Another moment of tense eye contact was shared between the two of you—yours still wild and Levi's still scathing.

“Where?”

“Desk. The middle drawer. Right side. Matches should be there too.”

Levi jerked his head towards Erwin, who understood the silent signal and went searching for the burner.

“Are we gonna find something in there we don't like?”

“Christ, I’m the one that went out of my way to help you.”

“Not what I asked.” He applied another small amount of pressure to your jaw. “Try again.”

“...no.”

The slamming of a drawer and the relieved sigh from Erwin told Levi that he had found the torch. After a few moments of rustling, Levi heard the gas ignite and looked behind him to see a flame burning. It wasn't much, but it would certainly heat up a blade.

Eren, thankfully, remained unconscious for the rest of the procedure, and Hange managed to—mostly—cauterize the wound. He was far from stable, still subject to turning, and heaving shallow breaths.

(Somewhere in Levi’s heart, he knew this was a win.)

As Hange carefully wrapped Eren’s leg in a clean shirt they borrowed (read: stole) from you, Levi—who never turned his blade from you or lifted his arm—directed his attention back to you.

“We're going to try this again. What's your name?”

“Blue.”

“The fuck kind of name is that?”

You did not deign to answer him.

“Alright, Blue. Where are the rest of your people?”

“I already told you, I’m—”

“Yeah, yeah, you're alone. Now, tell me the truth.”

“Levi.” Erwin said, still crouching on the ground with Eren. His fingers were around his wrist, checking for signs of a pulse. “Leave the girl alone. We’d be dead by now if it weren't for her.”

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“Shut the hell up.”

And for the first time since the five of you entered the room, you listened to what Levi said on the first go. Begrudgingly, he removed his forearm from your throat and lowered himself back to the soles of his feet. Only then did he seem to remember the searing pain in his ankle and collapse to the floor when putting his full weight back on the joint.

“Levi!” Hange called to him, but they were unable to go to him with Eren’s head resting on their lap.

(His hair was up, just as his mom told him to.)

The adrenaline was worn off, and the pain was too much.

“Levi, when is the last time you've eaten?”

Two and a half days.

Unbeknownst to Hange and Erwin (or so he thought), Levi was skipping out on his portion of the already slim rations to ensure enough was left for the others in their group.

If the plan didn't go to shit, it would have been fine. He would have indulged upon their arrival at the comms site.

He would have been fine.

He continued to tell himself as such, as the sides of his vision blackened and his ears rang to the pitch of Eren’s screams.

[ a/n: oh boy oh boy! as i'm positive you can tell, we're taking heavy inspo from TLOU here and by inspo I mean we're basically shoving AOT and TLOU into one universe

we're going to be miserable here <3 ]

masterlist and new updates coming soon

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan #AOT #shingeki no kyojin #snk #erwin smith #hange zoe #eren jaeger #levi ackerman x you

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cookies-over-yonder · 8 months ago

Text

close your weary eyes

Adaine has already been worrying about Riz, what with his thousands of clubs and negative hours of sleep, but when she gets a text from him during an AV club meeting he's surprisingly absent from, she's more concerned than ever. Riz: what does a panic attack feel like?

ao3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

title from rises the moon by liana flores

Adaine is sitting on the vacant side of her bed, reading through her textbook when Riz wakes up.

"Mmm, what time is it...?" he mumbles beside her.

"It's almost ten."

"I missed so many fucking clubs. Shit."

"How are you feeling?" Adaine asks, pulling him into a side hug. He melts into it, burying his face in her side.

"Like shit. I don't know what happened. I was on my way to AV and then I just... I don't know."

"Yeah."

"That used to happen to you all the time?"

"Yep. Every day."

"That fucking sucks."

"It did, but I've got meds and therapy now, so it's easier to manage."

Riz is quiet.

"I'm worried about you, you know?" Adaine says, and she feels him tense up. "It's just... you're so stressed. All the time. It can't be healthy. And I know from experience what that's like, and watching you go through something so similar... it scares me, Riz."

She whispers that last part, feeling tears prick at her eyes.

"I—listen, I was fine before, it's just—it's this year—"

"Were you fine before? Or did you just convince yourself you were?"

Riz sits up and looks Adaine in the eyes. "I... don't cry, Adaine, please."

"I'm worried about you!" Adaine sobs. "You barely eat, you barely sleep, you only drink coffee, and I'm worried one day it's all going to catch up to you and you're gonna fall apart. I see you shaking. All the time. I can't tell if it's from coffee or anxiety but my gut tells me it's both! Seeing you break down in there earlier, it scared me. Because how many times is that going to happen when I'm not there?"

"It was just a one-off thing, Adaine! I—I—I'm taking care of myself, I—"

"No, you're not!" she shouts, "You're taking care of your grades, your extra credit, Kristen's campaign, the mystery, and everyone around you, but not yourself, and I'm scared for you!"

"Adaine—"

"It—it's like I'm watching you tear yourself apart and I can't do anything to stop it! That's what it feels like!"

"I'm sorry, okay!? I just, I can't—"

Before Adaine knows it, she's getting up, walking out the room, and shutting the door with a loud slam.

Riz doesn't know where he went wrong, but somewhere along the way, he fucked up, and now Adaine is crying in another room, and he's sitting speechless on her bed.

And his head fucking hurts.

Then there's a knock at the door.

"Adaine?" Riz asks.

"It's Fig. Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

Fig comes inside, shuts the door behind her, sets down a plate in front of Riz, and sits beside him on the bed.

The plate has a bit of fruit, a couple slices of pizza, and a couple pain killers. She pulls a water bottle out of her pocket and hands it to him. He takes it wordlessly and downs the painkillers immediately.

"Adaine is fine, she just needed a second to cool down. Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

She rests a hand on his knee, and the way she looks at him gives him a sense of anxiety he can't quite pinpoint.

"How much did Adaine tell you?"

"She just said you had a hard day, and she's worried about you. I don't know anything else, but... well..."

Riz stares at the plate. His stomach hurts. He skipped breakfast this morning—not hungry and not enough time—and had a club meeting during lunch, and then passed out before he even got here.

So why does it feel so hard to just eat what's right in front of him?

"Riz, you're shaking."

"I think I freaked Adaine out, Fig," he says, getting off the bed to pace.

"She's just worried about you, man. Honestly, I am too. What even happened?"

"Adaine thinks I'm not taking care of myself," he says as he paces, his tail flicking back and forth.

"Are you?" Fig asks, and Riz bites down the urge to hiss at her incredulous tone.

"I am!" he shouts, sucking in a breath. And another. And another.

It's hard to breathe.

No. This isn't going to happen twice in one day.

"Riz, come sit down," Fig says, guiding him back to the bed by the shoulders. He does so without protest, and sits cross-legged on the bed, holding onto his ankles.

"S—suh—sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me," he stutters, taking in shaky breath after shaky breath.

"I think you're just stressed," Fig says, rubbing his back.

"I'm always stressed, though."

"But you're like, really stressed."

Riz curls in on himself a little and shuts his eyes, feeling tears start to fall again.

"It's okay, Riz," Fig says, "You should eat. It might make you feel better."

"'M not hungry."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday."

"Riz!"

"What?"

"Open your mouth."

He does, with his eyes still closed. Maybe it's a bad idea, but he's too exhausted to care.

And then Fig is shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth.

"Bite."

He does.

"Chew."

He does.

"Swallow."

He does.

"Good."

"Don't you have anything better to do than feed me?" Riz asks. He barely even tasted it.

"Nope!"

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend, and I love you, and I want you to be okay."

Riz thinks back to the note that "Gorgug" left him. In the emotions of the moment he hadn't realized, but when he looked at it again, he recognized Fig's handwriting right away.

He confronted her about it, and she'd since started leaving notes signed by her, on his locker, in his backpack, at his desk...

Sometimes, Riz has so much love for everyone around him that he doesn't know what to do with himself.

And sometimes, when that love is returned, he feels even more lost.

Because love means worry. Love means checking in. Love means making sure you're sleeping. Love means making sure you're eating. Love means tearing yourself apart to help your friends, but it also means helplessly watching your friend tear himself apart, Riz supposes.

He doesn't know what to do.

"I love you too, Fig," he whispers, and she's hugging him, and he's crying again.

He eats some more pizza, not saying much else and just listening to Fig ramble about her songwriting, and Ayda, and songwriting about Ayda until her phone buzzes. She checks it.

"Mm, I'm gonna head back. You gonna be okay?"

He nods.

And she's gone.

And there's another knock.

And Adaine steps in.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," she says. Her face is red and puffy. "It's just, I'm just—"

"It's okay," he says, standing up to face her.

"I just, I get so worried—"

"I know. I know. But I—I'm okay. Um... I slept, remember? And I've been eating, see?" he says, gesturing toward the plate of half eaten food.

"Why are you in so many clubs? You're smart enough to know that you're overworking yourself. I know you are."

"Uh—"

Riz swallows.

"I—I don't—uh—"

"Never mind, let's talk about that another day," she says, sparing him, and summoning Boggy a second later for him to hold. "Do you want to watch a movie? With the others, I mean. Unless you want to watch it with just me, or if you don't want to. Or if you just want to watch a movie by yourself!"

"I'll watch a movie with everyone," Riz says, giving her a weak smile, and watching her sigh in relief.

And so the night continues with Riz curled up on the couch between Adaine and Fig, watching some movie he doesn't understand and he's too tired to parse, and he still feels that baseline of tension he always has, but at least he's got love.

He'll always have that.

And he closes his weary eyes.

#cookies writes and cookies wrongs #riz gukgak #adaine abernant #figueroth faeth #fhjy #fantasy high junior year #fanfic

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drippingmoon · 1 year ago

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Merry new year to everyone, again! 🥳💞🥂

I know it wasn’t an event this year, but writing a yearly wrap-up is really therapeutic, you know? So I decided to continue the tradition, and if anyone wants to join me, absolutely view this as an open invitation^^ Introduction is over, and now let’s see what 2023 looked like:

(spoilers: I adored it. I'm also probably going to make this my fixed post, in case anyone ever wants to catch up with me. And also because my second baby, AoS, is growing, and it doesn't have an intro, but I can't leave it out.)

Stats

Aquiver, Aglow: 181k (draft 4) + 195k (draft 5) + hmm, draft 6 is an outlier, because I didn’t rewrite from scratch, so I’m unsure of the written word count. I didn’t change much from draft 5, so I’d say an extra 15-20k. Total word count: 376k+

Remains of a Night: 120k

Aberration of Sunlight: 134k

This was definitely my most productive year to date. And I got so hungry: the more I wrote, the more I just wanted to keep writing, and honestly? I’m proudest of myself for literally carving writing time whenever I got a spot into my schedule. Mostly it was from 8pm-11pm, but I had a mad run where my only free window was from 1am till I literally felt I was dying… I’ll talk about that separately🤣🤣👌

Though, I'm seriously understating it.

Like a lot of other people, I would have all these hours when I was younger when I didn't have anything to do, yet I'd still find some excuse not to write. "I'm waiting for the right time." "I'm anxious I'm not going to get it right." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I can start right from the morning, and I'll have more time to write, yeah?" or "I'm too tired now, it's late..." and so the snowball rolled down and downhill and I found every reason under the sun not to write, now that I think about it. Sigh. So much time wasted. But I can't regret it either, because I needed those baby steps at that time.

And now! Now I do what I thought I'd never learn to: I prioritize, and I actually organize my daily stuff so it's not so impossible anymore to have a little bit of writing time. I don't take it for granted either. It feels like such character growth for me, I'm immensely proud of it.

And for the record? This year was a huge improvement over yesteryear mentally, too. It turns out, what I needed to get over my word count anxiety… was to be faced with people who literally didn’t give a fuck about it, and just cared about the story. One of the most unexpected things beta stage managed to do to me… was to quench all my anxieties. It’s as simple as that. I read and enjoy very long books. People also do that. So, I’m very happy to say I’m no longer in a tizzy about ‘quiv. It might kill my chances for trad publishing, it might not. I’ll be happy come what may.

Because it’s so simple how working on ‘quiv or thinking about it makes me joyous, and now I can just enjoy that freely. I will miss writing this story so much. I really will. But at least I’ll have it forever to reread, and I hope this thought brings comfort to everyone who also has problems letting go, like it does to me.

Let’s break it down a little, shall we?🤩

Aquiver, Aglow◇◇◇

My little star of the hour. How fond I am of it.

Like you could glean from above, ‘quiv went through three drafts this year. More specifically: in the first part of the year, practically almost as soon as February arrived. I knew it was getting closer to the final version, and gave me the push to finish all three back to back. I couldn’t justify anymore the bazillion AUs I do with rewrites (basically, WHAT IFs from events, WHAT IF it went this different way, WHAT IF Tyrone actually said this here… and so on and so forth. I wanted to test out as many pathways as possible, and did I exhaust every one of them in existence? Definitely not. I don’t think that can happen, you just keep getting new ideas. On and on. What happened, instead, is that these couple different pathways, at some point, cemented themselves as canon in my mind. I didn’t want to tease myself with alternatives anymore, and that’s when I knew they would be it. Some bits from the first draft, some from the third, some from the second. Some were even draft 6 originals!

It’s a bit of a weird process. I definitely didn’t need to reach draft 3, and meet Mezusa, because I could’ve feasibly made it work with just Yles in the story. It still would’ve made sense, though in a different way. But if I hadn’t… I might’ve missed one of the best characters I’ll ever probably have created, and the story (and Yles) is much stronger for her, if you ask me.

For that matter, yes, full rewrites every single draft might take a lot of time and effort, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever change my writing process (save for the moments of frustration when I think I will lol) because of the sheer satisfaction of it. Whoever said so long never to settle on the first version, I owe you a beer and probably some curses as well lmao, but very lovingly. You shaped my writing life.

I don’t have much else to share about ‘quiv, other than it’s off with my beta readers my beloved, and maybe a tentative promise that, if anyone wants, you’ll be able to read this precious ball of hope of mine relatively soon. This story is so gentle to me. And as much as I loved to write and work on it, I dearly hope that whoever decides to give it a go, is treated just the same. That’s the only wish I have.

I also don’t know if I’ll go trad or self-published. Instincts say trad, because I fuckin’ suck at marketing (fact), and I know I’d grow resentful if I’d have to put so many hours into advertising when I know I could instead… write. I’m a writer. That’s the only thing I know how to do. Trad, however, might not be as kind on a ~200k as life’s been, so I might not have a choice. If it comes down to that… I’ll just treat it as I do everything. I don't love this story any less if I just write, publish without a fuss, hope that maybe, just maybe, a reader or two will stumble upon the story and we could talk. Maybe we can have the fun of our lives, create some genuine connection. I know that’s applies to a lot of writers. I hope we can accomplish it.

And so, I’ll finish this section of the wrap-up with a kiss to my ‘quiv, for all the warmth it’s ever brought me. It’s come so far, I know it can live distinct from me from now on. It brings me great comfort. And I look forward to the times I’ll reread it, and we can relive our best experiences together. Never thought I’d get to this point. Thank you, ‘quiv.

Remains of a Night♤♤♤

Mwhahaha! And because ‘quiv took all the pressure, this left AoS to be an extremely fun and spirited experience. Literally the chillest I’ve ever been writing. In many ways, it’s more my thing than I expected ‘quiv to be: I get to murder characters left and right, it’s more plot-heavy and banking on the tension created by a creature that horrifies the characters down to their marrow, but still the only way to defeat it is to know it better, which, uh, might have unpleasant consequences for them. It’s got chase and stealth scenes, and it always shoots me with adrenaline to think about them. In short, exactly my jam.

It’s not a new book, nope. You knew it before as Aberration of Sunlight, but from the get-go I felt it would be bigger than ‘quiv. Very fortunately for me, I had a place where to break it, and behold: there’s RoaN (book 1), and AoS (book 2). There might be a third book, which I dearly hope not because titling sucks, but it depends on the Sycamine arc. More on that in AoS.

One last thing to note, before we delve into the story (hoo-ray for earlier drafts, because I can talk more frankly about them). This is the culprit of my 1am writing adventures!!😫❤ My schedule became too packed, then NaNo came round and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to honor how AoS began, because it was last year’s NaNo, aaand I’m happy to say I won NaNo, somehow, with 56k down before I died. At that time, I only had one section left to write (from both books), otherwise, hahahaha, yeah, it wouldn’t have flown. Still, most of draft 2 I’d written in September-October, with my fairy lights, late nights, and cups of hot cocoa, exactly like how life should be<3

Alright. We’re going through them chapter-by-chapter again, exactly because I love seeing the titles so much:

ACT 1

Cracked Visor, Scorpion Grass

I did it! I did! Twas another shower thought I managed to get down in time. Bare broken sentences, but they did the impossible, and arranged this chapter into a structure I adore to bits and won't ever change. (And 'quiv's naughty voice left me alone for once and I could write it properly!) While I don't think I'll ever be happy with a first chapter (not as a concept, but the writing — part of me will always wish that the reader just had all the information already lol), this one is in the right place.

It pays its respects to the story of the broken helmet at the foot of a spaceship, and how it reconnects Madigan with all the people who'd suffered from being tethered to the planets when they yearned to fly, but the Beast punished them cruelly for it. It makes him feel phantoms of their efforts. The tone is exactly what I needed this story to start from: melancholy and numbly hopeless, against the backdrop of the Beasts's echoed cries.

Rain Through the Universe

Unlike 'quiv, because RoaN and AoS are way more plot-heavy, it's not as easy to change things willy-nilly (whereas 'quiv was all about character bonds and dynamics). As such, it's very similar to draft 1. Because of that, I'll frankendraft next (select and combine drafts 1 and 2, rewrite to connect them) and afterwards I'll try something I've always wanted to. (Scrivener keeps hinting at it!) I'm gonna split the chapters into scenes, and focus on those individually and how I can just rewrite them and set their purpose in stone<3 I'm excited!

As for the chapter itself, gods, I love the atmosphere. Just the wreckage of a sundered ship, and Madigan’s sudden madman appearance making a lasting impression on Spica, because how could it not. They no longer answer distress calls in that age, it just means more dead bodies. In fact, they're forbidden to. Madigan instead brings him what he himself lacks: hope. And a lot of crawling around while dreading the Beast's lambent eye opening, and oh my, the moments are really flying by😈👏 extreme fun for me as the writer.

Aberration of Light

If you remember, the books follow two timelines, which will connect at some point. The first and main one is Madigan and Spica’s story. The other is Holloway’s, in the distant past of that universe, and who’s been dubbed the most selfish man in existence. That’s important, because of how the Beast came to be. But that becomes important later. For now, a weird-ass new recruit has joined the ship, and the witchy crew will very soon start making bets if she’s the Beast in human flesh, which really wouldn’t bode well for their future.

Night Falls On Their Reflection

Draft 2 became Spica’s draft. It was high time. He didn't exist in the original idea beyond chapter 2, but he refused to die with his story untold. And now he's one of the most independent thinkers I've ever written. Now he's Madigan's son (yes, even at 25), best friend, back-to-back partner all in one, and I could watch the trust and mutual respect between these two forever. To be sure: Madigan comes up with the dumbass plans, and Spica's only too happy to follow him through everything (it is good fun.)

He's repaying the incredible kindness Madigan's shown him when answering his distress call, after all.

But it goes a bit further than that, doesn't it? Madigan is used to watching over myriad people. He's the Superintendent of his planet, and while he genuinely loves people, kindness is his default. It doesn't go further than that for him. He doesn't necessarily think people need, much less desire his presence there beyond Madigan extending help, and most of the time, he's content with that. Kindness does make him happy. And it should be the same with Spica now, shouldn't it? He's kind, but he's not Spica's family, nor ever will be. Yet he immediately feels a connection with the boy, that has nothing to do with bonding over escaping-a-cosmic-disaster. And so does Spica.

This is the moment when Madigan starts feeling guilty, for stepping where he should not. But here's the beauty of Spica's character: he's nothing if not dead sure of his own feelings, and what he sees with his eyes. It's okay if Madigan keeps unexpectedly taking steps back. For very long, there'd been nobody to support Spica's beliefs. So he does the same, as when he followed his heart to go into dead space: he believes in himself and Madigan, and that their paths aren't meant to diverge. They mean too much to each other for that to ever happen.

(In short, and legend says you can still hear me screeching about these two ten thousand years later, I love these two so much, and especially the parallels between Spica going alone into outer space and loving Madigan.)

(And, okay, obviously all these developments don't happen in a single chapter, but I couldn't stop gushing🤭🥰.)

Who Puts These Tombs in Ice

Overall, I think draft 2’s Luitgart performed worse than draft 1. Mainly it's the setting I want to revert (still an icy, sempiternally dark hell, but with different ice constructions) because some of the beats are a huge improvement, and again, I gotta combine the two. Otherwise, I’m still as obsessed about the Luitgart arc as I’ve ever been, and huge thanks to it for being so strong it could function as an ending of its own, allowing me to split the book.

Gettin’ into spoilery territory, but I have to un-kill Madigan so many times it leaves me in hysterics. That was what I was supposed to fix this draft. It got worse. Considerably.

(One constant: the chapter being a love letter to Madigan, and how his first answer will always be to help the other, no matter if they deserve it or not<3 and finally, finally, he gets acknowledged for it, and the favor returned.)

ACT 2

Lemon-Dotted Days + Remnant

Two Holloway chapters! I’m actually massively pleased with how they’ve turned out. Last year, I said the main issue was that I had an outline, and that never works for me. So I did what I do best and rewrote everything from scratch, and the result is both uncanny and… unexpected.

Unexpected, because I never in my life thought Holloway’s voice would make me laugh so much. He’s supposed to be unsympathetic, but then you get his interactions with Saintlark (the new crewmate, possibly Beast) where they’re contemplating the harvest of a nebula, and he’s harshly critical of it, which gives Saintlark hope… only to go deadpan One Moment Later: if they’d used the nebula to prolong their lives instead of bolstering the war, they wouldn’t have died like clown idiots.

And, they could’ve maybe stolen immortality from the nebula. They would've had to share it with him, of course. Or he would've murdered them to get it.

That, my guys, is his personality in a nutshell.

I have a lot of feelings on Holloway now, and most involve me huffing and slapping my forehead while groaning, but oh my gods. Was it ever so fun. And wait, wait, wait. Since I'm talking of humor (apparently a lot of comedy fit into this horror lmfao) I have to show you guys the following section🤣🤣👏:

Corpse Snow

The drifters are set howling on the ice. They share glances, five separate vehicles nodding at each other. Madigan revs up the engine, splitting the air with a jet of steam and vibration.

The last of the marines are climbing into the box. A figure flashes past Madigan’s drifter — and he leans over, teeth grinding because of his ribs, and he does his very best to grab someone by the back of their suit and pull. Workout days were never his strength, though. He only succeeds in stopping them in the frost smoke.

It’s Spica dangling from his hand, expressionless.

Lieutenant Hahn instantly seizes on the situation. He throws Madigan a long, withering look. “Whatcha doing, Boss?” he asks softly, about to unhinge his jaw again.

Madigan nudges Spica into the drifter. “Picking up your boy.”

Spica gets the hint and deposits himself into the front seat, glancing from his father to his Superintendent. He seems to give up on whatever’s going on, and makes himself cozy in the frosty spot. And Madigan, of course, pretends not to notice Hahn’s drifter sliding closer.

“And you didn’t consider I might want to have my son with me?”

Madigan looks up and sighs. “Lieutenant, dear Lieutenant,” he starts pleadingly. “Why won’t you show some leniency to a poor, wounded man?”

Hahn’s drifter stops, summoning a breeze across the icy floor that gently rocks the other vehicle. His breathing distorts the comms with static. “And what exactly is my son right now?”

“My trusty navigator,” Madigan answers easily.

“Sir’s emotional walking stick?” Spica pipes in at the same time.

They both look over. Spica’s quietly turned to the navigation, as serene as daylight, seemingly oblivious to how Madigan's expression changes, lightning-fast. He quickly hides it under the guise of a polite mask, as the marines stir and turn their attention on them. They’re snickering.

Lieutenant Hahn throws up his hands, giving up on everything.

This is also the first 30k chapter I’ve ever written. It's everything I've ever wanted to do with ice.

Heart of the Void

The end of the book. Originally, it was the ending section to Corpse Snow, but since it already got so ungodly long, I chipped off that bit and I have to say I’m very happy with how it works as an epilogue! So it ends the frosty, weary journey, and I can’t see the two books as separate yet, but here we bid goodbye to the first.

Aberration of Sunlight♧♧♧

I did the unthinkable and created a fifth arc. This might not seem like much to you, but I was screaming bloody murder you guys😭😭😭. Sigh. It’s so sigh. For so long, AoS consisted of four clear-cut acts, but it was necessary. With the introduction of Sycamine, and making it two books, it was just needed. It’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever done because I was used to four😃💔

(The chapters continue from where RoaN left off – from chapter 10, to 21.)

ACT 3

Retro Spectrum

Sycamine, oh Sycamine. Definitely the break I needed before Days in Darkness. It made for a really neat beginning. It’s calmer, focusing on the knowledge they have on the Beast. It’s also a reflection on Procyon (their main star) and the story of the two straggler dog constellations, and what they'd been running away from. I liked the direction it took. It veered away from the Beast for a bit, so the tension kept expanding in the background. And when it returns, well... maybe they shouldn't have been so eager to see it again🤭.

It suffers from the same syndrome as draft 1’s first chapter… it’s there in the vicinity of the idea, but too much to the left. Not bad for a first attempt. The setting annoys me – I really don't enjoy writing cities, and AoS didn't change that. So, for our next try, I was thinking... maybe we don't need to be on the planet, but up close and veeery personal with it. It's a secret❤.

And, oh gods. I put a moustache-twirling villain in this. And then I couldn’t stop myself from naming some sucker Sweetman Calories. I don’t know what happened to me during those days, but I’m crying🤣🤣🤣.

Toast to the Light

Holloway and Saintlark’s story is slowly coming to an end. Unexpectedly bleaker than draft 1, yet it feels much more sincere. Holloway has a way of saying everything Saintlark needs to hear. No surprise. They did that to themselves.

Dissonant Recognition

Ahhhh, the Madigan-is-slowly-losing-his-grip-on-reality chapter, or maybe he should really stop staring into the suns. One of my favorites<3 Also because it features Moren (!!!) who has a blast staying in the grey morality area, because she doesn’t know if her actions could ever matter, or if she could change anything. Does she just exist? Is she a player or just pawn? Who knows. Besides that, she gets along great with Spica. They form such a teasing duo, the level of mutual respect they felt for each other on sight was a delight to write. My favorite ally of theirs, even if her destiny lies elsewhere.

Night Beneath the Elevator

Best title hands down, dethroning Solgesis. I’m going batshit crazy about the visuals, it's exactly my thing. This half-light slanted over an elevator waiting in a rundown basement to be boarded. And there's something underneath it, and always has been. Something insidiously creeping up and waving its tendril fingers at you as you're just waiting for the fucking thing to ascend. Immaculate, guys, I'm telling you, and I'm cursing my hands because I can't make a wallpaper of this. I want to eat that atmosphere.

Time-sensitive missions, y'all.

And why the heck did nobody inform me I was going to add Command as an actual character and have them talk with Madigan?! That entire convo, made up entirely on the spot but somehow with a direction, made me realize what an idiot I’d been for not doing it sooner. They mean so much to Madigan, after all.

(And Mariya. So much Mariya in these chapters.)

ACT 4

Loop System

Like Who Puts These Tombs in Ice, draft 1 might’ve done it better. Not Spica and Madigan, though, because of the sheer development Spica’s been through and the dynamic he’s managed to form with the crew. It's different from Madigan’s, but similar enough that it’s got Hahn commenting lightly: [Spica’s] picked up quite a few habits from Madigan, hasn’t he? Almost as if they’ve gotten very very close, huh? How about Madigan tell him more?

(I adore writing Hahn.)

Outreach

Another Holloway chapter. Doesn’t have the punch of the kids subplot from draft 1, but this just makes it worse for Saintlark personally, because, this time, the consequences are on her.

Days in Darkness

I knew the moment I first got the idea this would be my favorite chapter. Well, it finally happened in draft 2: when the entire crew is here, this time, and ready for the final countdown, to relive the experience of being trapped in a ship that's disintegrating. No more heroes left behind. I'd been so tired writing this chapter in draft 1, but this time around it was incredible. Everything went up sharply from here, both in terms of events and how on fire I was.

(Maybe less than the gorgon, but I was.)

ACT 5

Echo Terminal

The first of the two log chapters.

I've never written smoother, more visual chapters than in this period. Days in Darkness changed me so much, I was writing day and night by this point and couldn't get enough. Well, I hit my limit in the second half of the very last chapter, but I am beyond satisfied. Even the Beast's metamorphosis took me by storm, because I'd been wondering what the final verbs, the final images, the final design for it was going to be. I didn't expect it to come to me this early, and with such thrill. Those were my very best days of the year, and I toast to them.

(And I knew it was going to be fantastic when Halo's Warthog Run OST started blaring in my head, with as much adrenaline.)

Where, Now? + Solgesis

My beloved. The second and last of the two log chapters, but it’s Noelle Saintlark’s log.

Holloway’s timeline ends here. Or maybe it just gets carried into the future. I thought I’d want to rewrite his parts again, make the plot just a tiny bit more psychedelic and nonsensical because it’s so close to the Beast… but Solgesis put all my fears to rest. Even the formatting and layout is a bit of that special thing I’ve always wanted to try, and it really changes the perspective of the previous chapters. There's a new confession that stands at the heart of Holloway's stories.

Honestly, the only thing that needs urgent working on is the anger at the end of the chapter.

Anger is so hard for me to write sometimes. Not because I don’t connect with it, but because I feel self-conscious writing it. The wildest I felt it was when I tackled 'quiv's chapter 3 and Imera's Turning speech, both in quick succession (before I'd even written draft 1. I'd been taking notes.) Since then... I just thing back to how keenly I'd felt that anger, and I kind of intimidate myself out of it. Kind of like a natural resistence, I quench it from myself. Which is actually hilarious when you think about it. It’s like I’m going I BANISH THEE FROM MY BRAIN because generally, as a person, I dislike feeling and operating on anger. But no worries. I’m going to find a way around it.

Watch me😎.

What Goes Around…

(Now it’s the time for me to start crying some rivers, and, alright, it won’t be visible so I’ll say it: the chapter titles are holding a conversation, guys. They speak to each other. And sometimes it’s both sides of the same coin, like how What Goes Around (comes around) hints here. If you take two chapters, one from the beginning and one from the end (for example 1 and 21) it'll tell you a little secret. Okay, What Goes Around and Rain Through the Universe communicate through their plot, which I can’t spoil but of course it has to do with Madigan and Spica and how they first meet… but there is one title pair that does it best visibly.

Lemon-Dotted Days and Days in Darkness.

And I hadn’t even planned this. All the parallels I wanted to draw… I feel like they built themselves, guys. They really did, and it makes me so wildly happy I don’t even know how to stop my hands from flailing.

And, with them being 21 chapters, they meet in the middle, on the one unpaired chapter.

Called Toast to the Light.

I friggin’ love everything.

New Sunrise, Forget-Me-Right

Of course, Forget-Me-Right is a play on Scorpion Grass. But it’s also such a gentle name for the chapter, because everything ends here. Lying on their backs, staring out into the universe, and it really, really is over. Just a dark horizon on which stars flare and bloom. And suddenly, that maddened rush to make every sacrifice count, to remember every soul they’ve encountered because the legend says the Beast absorbs you when it kills you – all that suffocating pressure dissipates. Lightness remains. Because they’ve protected each other.

For the first time in my writing journey, blood rushed to my head with such emotion I had to stop writing, which never happens. I had to look up and exclaim, holy fuck. But how could I not, considering how the story ends for the Beast? I am speechless. A lot of gorgeous surprises this draft.

Conclusion□●□

Whew, what a year it's been! As for how 2024 will probably look like, though I don't like making plans: finishing the beta stage for 'quiv, and tackling RoaN and AoS's draft 3. Thaaaat one I'm actually starting on Christmas, when I can (finally!!) reread draft 2 with my mug of hot cocoa (or maybe mulled wine for a change) and, no surprises here, I'm hyper stoked for that<3 <3 <3 I legit can't wait to see where the new draft brings them. I might not have set any expectations for them, but they're vying to keep up with 'quiv and I adore it🤭❤

As for my lovely friends... well, you know by how I spam your tags how much I adore you and wish you happiness forever🤩🥺🥳 I don't know what my activity will look like in the near future, so for now I won't be saying anything, and my semi-hiatus continues. Semi, because you're unforgettable and I crave to see what everyone's been up to and (!!!!) what you've written!

So let's meet in 2024 again, and all the best wishes to you, the reader🥰🥂❤.

#ayearofwriting #2023 #aquiver-aglow #aberration of sunlight

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wordy-little-witch · 7 months ago

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Good golly gumdrops I'm gonna go absolutely apeshit real quick here

Disabled Buggy Ideas!!!!!!

Buggy who uses his Devil Fruit as a mobility aid on days when his joints are Extra Sore, especially his ankles/knees/etc.

Buggy who sometimes gets vertigo and so cannot always float around bc of the dizziness. On days like that, he has physical mobility aids.

His first aid was a can - Mohji and Ritchie stole it when the crew was still pretty new - Buggy was about 15, Mohji about 11, and Ritchie was a tiny little thing. They had noticed Buggy cringed a little more on certain days, when he walked or got up or sat down. They presented it to him with big smiles and Buggy wound up crying. They decorated it together.

His second aid was another cane, this one a gift from the crew, now bigger. They carved it and went absolutely ham with decorating it but sealing it well - his first one was a little worse for wear, paint chipping, wood a little roughed up. That one gets retired to a place of honor for Buggy's precious keepsakes. The new one is a bit sturdier too.

The third one came from someone on the crew actually. It was a hand me down. One of the tailors on board had recently gotten gifted a new walker to replace their forearm crutches. And when she was downsizing, she asked Buggy if he'd ever used them before, if he knew anyone who did. Those become his favored items because of the versatility, the cuffs, and how it evens out the pressure on his hands/wrists/elbows/shoulders.

At some points, he also gets braces, compression stuff, etc.

After Impel Down, his body was damn near debilitated. He was good for playing up the prestige and audacity and faux confidence, but Shanks saw through him immediately when he offered a ride on the Red Force. Luckily, an allied ship under them was also there and had the means and room to carry Buggy's accidentally-acquired men, women and others who sworn fealty to him. With strict orders from Buggy to mind their manners and to assist where they could, deferring to the ship's crew, they were set up there by majority. Few remained on the Red Force specifically.

Once away from prying, assessing, worshipping eyes, Buggy drops a few of the many masks he wears. He sags a little, moving to squeeze his eyes shut, pressing his palms over his eyes and grimacing as he tries to shift his weight.

A warm, calloused hand presses over his eyes. Buggy inhales shakily, letting his own hands move so Shanks could block the light from his gaze. He leaned into the touch.

"Hey," the redhead says softly, "Hongo wants to check you over. Do you want my room or the medbay?"

A strangled noise, not unlike a drowning cat, escapes the clown's mouth. Shanks shuffles closer, not touching, but close enough for his body heat to be felt.

"Okay," he breathes, "Okay, I've got you, Bugs..."

Buggy lets himself be led by his best friend, his Red, his Shanks, docile and blinded and dizzy. At some point he can Feel two people join them, and Shanks's voice, carefully soft and quiet and familiar, guides him along with gentle murmurs of "step in two, yeah, there you go"s and "duck your head for me, perfect"s.

At one point while stepping down the stairs, Buggy's right knee gives a sharp and deafening CRACK, white-hot-ice-blue pain shooting up and down his leg and hip. He chokes on it, body trying to split, to get away from the pain, and he teeters, teeth grit and breath stolen. A warm chest at his back steadies him, and Buggy gags at the disoriented agony. Shanks is oozing worry and anxiety, Hongo is nearly vibrating, Buggy is trying to keep from just falling to pieces on the floor- so Benn just rubs the blue haired pirate's shoulder. "It's alright," he soothes softly, gently, baritone warm and assuring. "I'm going to pick you up, alright? It's alright, I carry Cap over there all the time when he gets drunk as a skunk. Can I touch you?"

Buggy barely manages a nod, and he's only mildly ashamed of how tightly he clings when Benn lifts him so carefully, so kindly, breathing through the bubbles in his eyes and throat, the electricity in his veins and nerves. The soft pop-clicks of his body splitting and reconnecting filled the air.

They take Buggy to Shanks's room, hoping it would be less stressful. The preliminary check could be done with the generic things Hongo can grab and bring along, anything requiring something more severe would need preparation anyway, and it would take time to be able to execute safely. It was a hefty choice, but one none involved with could regret when Buggy, still coiled tightly and far too pale, clung tightly to Shanks's wrist, hand still over his eyes, like it was the only thing keeping him sane. Bad blood aside, he really was rather attached.

Maneuvering was tedious but nobody breathed a hint of complaint, not even Benn when Shanks immediately climbed into his own bed, gesturing to have the other captain given to him.

Hongo's initial assessment had him pursing his lips and breathing through fury, had Benn aching for a cigarette and Shanks visibly counting aloud to avoid an explosion of his Haki. Buggy was semi coherent through it all.

The next day, Hongo strictly tells Buggy to rest Or Else, to Especially Not Climb Or Run, to minimize walking as well. The stress fractures alone were bad, but the inflammation, the swelling, the EVERYTHING had his nerves on edge. Buggy, knowing not to question a medical professional, concedes. Shanks capitalizes on the Buggy Time, and he whines and complains the whole time he has to be away from his Bugaboo.

Galdino is a little skeptical, especially given how his own injuries were deemed not as severe. Buggy's embarrassed by the princess treatment, as Shanks calls it ((as Roger once called it when they were young and Buggy's flare ups really began in full, to Crocus's endless worry and frantic searches)). Meeting up with the Big Top yields answers yet brews more questions in turn as the other's immediately touch base with Hongo while some others scurry off once updated to 'grab the goods', only to return with a forearm crutch and colorful ace wraps.

It's a wild ride start to finish and Galdino is left with many, MANY questions, the other's as well, but Buggy's crew as well as Shanks's set them straight pretty quickly. After all, someone else's medical records are not your business and you have no right to pass judgement on someone's use of aids.

It's normalized for people in the Buggy Pirates to use different mobility aids, to see people out and about with things that they can use to better their quality of life and express themselves therewith.

Buggy's pillow case outfit is a play on that - on using his Devil Fruit for movement and ease of motion, for hiding his braves or wraps and for the additional bonus of playing on the perceptions of others.

Mihawk and Crocodile, once they join, are not privy to what is beneath the onesie. The former can, however, tell on occasion when Buggy's having a bad flare up, though not why.

It's only after Buggy tells them, either by choice or circumstantial events, the truth that they put together these pieces.

And from there? Well, neither of them are particularly Typical themselves. Mihawk has a nerve disorder which gives him difficulty with feeling pain. Crocodile is an amputee. They're not about to judge for any of that. They will however judge Buggy's tendency of pushing himself too far too frequently.

Just. Chronically ill/disabled Buggy. I love himmmm

#buggy headcanons #implied shuggy #implied cross guild poly #buggy pirates #headcanons #buggy my beloved #disabled pirates aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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sleepwrites · 2 years ago

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Hello! This is one of my first times asking so sorry if this is bad :,)

This could either be romantic or platonic but macaque, mk, and wukong with a reader who has social anxiety? For example they rarely talk to new people and usually orbit around people they know.

I hope this is enough I hope you have a nice day :]

Aw this is a wonderful request! Loved writing it!

Disclaimer!: I do not have social anxiety and I have no idea what it looks like or what it feels like. If I get anything wrong please let me know and I’ll correct it immediately.

Your safe here

MK, Wukong and Macaque with an s/o who has social anxiety.

When you tell him you have social anxiety he is the most supportive boyfriend ever!!

He knew you weren’t that good around people, he was the one who had to ask you to be friends in the first place.

He would usually introduce you to new people. Very rarely would you ever go out and make friends on your own but when you did he would be so proud!

He wont push you to make new friends, he will give you a slight nudge every so often. Maybe even start the conversation with someone before needing to ‘go grab something’ and let you handle it from there.

So either you and this person hit it off and become close friends or you cut the conversation off shortly after MK leaves and run to go find him.

You tend to cling to him in social situations, especially if theres a huge crowd, then you’ll be holding his arm 24/7.

He is probably the most extroverted person you know so he will be slightly disappointed that you dont wanna go to a party that Mei invited him to but the look of serenity on your face when its just you two is enough to make up for that.

If you end up getting overwhelmed while your both out he’ll notice incredibly quickly, (he is really emotionally aware so he’ll notice fast) rushing you out of there to calm you down as soon as possible.

Once your out of the situation he’ll calm you down by hugging you nice and tight, sort of becoming an anchor for you. He’ll murmur a bunch of sweet things into your ear and give you a nice lil peck on the cheek before you two head home.

Overall? The most caring and loving boyfriend you could ever ask for.

Sun Wukong

At first he thought you were just scared, he didn’t realise how scared you felt when there were too many people around.

But once he realised that you get seriously anxious in big crowds and meeting new people he, like MK, turns to into the most wholesome monkey bf ever!!

Tbh I dont see him as very social either, mans spent centuries cooped up on his island so of course he has some form of social anxiety.

He will always be right near you while your out and about. Will never let you leave his side. Once you two get home he’ll pepper your face with kisses, telling you how good you were.

If you do end up getting overwhelmed he will immediately summon his cloud and get you out of there. Once you get out of their he’ll calm you down with some breathing exercises.

Ideal date? Binge watch the Monkey Cop series and play some video games.

Macaque

HE WILL PROTECT YOU FROM ALL THE PEOPLE YOU DONT LIKE BECAUSE YOUR HIS DARLING AND-

Sorry got carried away, but yeah Macaque will make sure that your comfortable while talking to someone new.

He’s honestly honoured to be part of the small circle of friends you trust and comfortable being around.

He’ll have you backstage during his shadow plays so you dont get overwhelmed by the crowd, plus the view is way better there.

He holds your hand a lot in public, acting as and anchor for you while in crowds. Sometimes he has his tail curled around your waist as well ‘for extra support’ (or so he says)

Your overwhelmed? Portals your right out of there, nothing is scaring his moonlight while hes around.

He has you focus on him and only him, making you realise that your not in the crowd anymore, that your home and safe with him.

Now, Macaque is a theatre kid™️ you cant tell me he isn’t the littlest bit sociable. If he is talking to someone with you with him, he’ll obvs ask you if you want to chip into the conversation. Respects your decision either way.

He doesn’t mind what kind of date you go on as long as your happy. Fancy a nice dinner? Only if your comfortable love. Wanna stay in tonight? What do you wanna do then?

#lmk #lmk x reader #lmk mk x reader #lmk macaque x reader #lmk swk x reader

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faketrex · 24 days ago

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21 from the setting prompts!!

Thank you, Nico! 💝 For prompt 21, "a car park lit only by streetlamps."

RWRB, firstprince, post-canon, 920 words, reunions and traditions, soft and sweet.

...

If Alex is lucky, one day he'll get to marry Henry.

They don't need it to prove they love each other, of course not. Their relationship is already exactly what Alex wants it to be; a piece of paper signed by a couple of witnesses isn't going to change anything. Despite that, there are three very good reasons to get married: one, Alex loves a party, two, Alex loves giving the finger to closed-minded bigots, and three, Alex really, really fucking loves Henry.

Maybe it's sappy, but daydreaming about marrying Henry always calms him down. Every other path in Alex's life could lead him in so many unpredictable directions that it feels like the variables go on forever, like he'll never fully escape the anxiety and uncertainty no matter which choices he makes. In every iteration of his future, however, Henry is a constant: side by side with Alex, all the way to the end.

So, yeah. Someday he'll pop the question, and hopefully Henry will say "yes." They'll vow to protect and care for one another, in sickness and in health, as long as they both shall live.

Right now, though, Alex's brain is preoccupied going two hundred miles per hour, way too fast for him to be able to concentrate on that sweet daydream.

And–right now, Alex is about to absolutely roast Henry for crimes against fashion.

That's mostly unrelated.

"Holy shit, who held you up at knifepoint and made you wear that human rights violation masquerading as a tie?"

"Hello to you too, Alex. And here I thought you'd be pleased to see me."

"Seeing you requires the use of my corneas. That hate crime is going to burn them off. Come here."

The parking lot outside the fundraising venue is tiny. High concrete walls surround the rectangular space on three sides, with the building on the fourth enclosing it like a kind of courtyard. The gray garage door blends into the concrete. Two weak floodlamps leave a gap of darkness near the middle of the yard. It doesn't make any sense as a parking lot, even one for VIP guests.

The strangest part of the design is that because of how the building is oriented along the shore, Alex can hear the ocean on the other side of one of the walls. It's like being in a cement white noise machine. Or an empty, open-air contemporary art gallery.

Billionaires are so weird. Why wouldn't they put windows in the wall so they could see the ocean? Hell, why wouldn't they just build a garage and put a deck on top?

None of it really matters, though, it's just Alex's brain speeding along at a breakneck pace. The important thing is that he and Henry are the only ones in the parking lot right now.

As soon as Henry is within arm's length, Alex reaches out for him, prompting Henry to smile softly and lean forward.

Alex stops him with a palm on his chest, grabbing the knot of his tie.

"Alex, really," Henry protests.

"Of course I'm happy to see you, sweetheart, and I promise you I'll give you your 'hello' kiss in just a second, but I need to get this thing off you, first."

"It's not that bad–"

"No, it's worse. Whatever you're thinking, it's like, fifty times worse. Did you bring a back-up?"

"A back-up?"

"A spare. An extra tie."

"No, I–"

"Okay," Alex says, tugging the tie out and unfolding Henry's collar. "Here's the plan." He stuffs the hideous fabric in his jacket pocket and reaches up to unknot his own tie. "You're going to wear mine and I'm going to scandalize a few folks by going without."

"But–"

"Because I can get away with 'rakish' and you can't, that's why."

"Right."

Alex is mostly silent as he wraps his tie around Henry's neck and knots it. When he's done, he carefully folds down Henry's collar again and smooths it all out, settling the tie against his shirt placket. "There. You don't usually wear purple, I know, but your stylist is going to have to suck it up and deal just this once."

"I missed you terribly, love," Henry says quietly.

Alex takes a deep breath and runs his hand down the tie once more, then a third time, making sure it's perfect. He lets the air out of his lungs in a slow, measured exhale. It's fine. He's fine. "Me, too. I hated it. I missed you."

"Would you dance with me before we go in?"

"What?"

"It's my turn for a romantic gesture, I believe."

"Okay," Alex allows. "But it's not–I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's not a competition."

"No," Henry agrees, stepping closer. "Just a tradition."

When they're finally wrapped up in each other, swaying together in the dark at the center of the parking lot, Alex closes his eyes to concentrate. In one ear, he can hear Henry's heartbeat, familiar and reassuring. In the other, he hears the low, repetitive sound of the ocean on the other side of the courtyard wall.

With his eyes closed and Henry's arms wrapped around him, Alex's brain finally goes quiet. He takes another breath: easy in, easy out.

"Are you ready for that kiss now, love?"

In silent response, Alex opens his eyes and tilts his face up to meet Henry's.

...

About five minutes later, more or less, Alex finds out that Henry has an engagement ring in his pocket.

He is pretty fucking lucky, after all.

#faketrex writes #setting prompts #it was all on purpose #absolutely on purpose #both on Alex's part and on my part #you know I love a parallel #fandom: intro to international relations #firstprince fanfic #firstprince fic #fic: no strangers to convention

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theslay3d · 2 years ago

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Hey! If it’s not a bother could I possibly request Jason x reader he met at camp Jupiter when they were younger? Maybe she went through Lupa’s training with him too???? For the plot maybe it could be him proposing and like he’s nervous so he asks his big sis Thalia for advice and she teases him before eventually telling him to basically just go for it and then he proposes and it’s just super cute and sweet?

Jason Grace x reader

Gender: Neutral im pretty sure

Warnings: none

Word count: 1088

Part 2

A/N his i hope you like!! there's not much on jasons backstory like how much time he spent with Lupa or anything so sorry if im wrong.

Jason was nervous. He knows he probably shouldn't be this nervous as you guys have known each other for many many years. Ever since Lupa’s training really. You guys just started to date before he disappeared.

He sighed at how long ago that was. So many years have gone by since that time. He stares at the open box in which the ring was in before closing it and stuffing it into his pocket. How was he supposed to ask you this?

He got up and walked outside only to notice how much sound there was and how many extra kids were around. He looked around until his eyes connected with his sisters, Thalia.

He smiled and she walked up to him. “Hey blonde boy” He rolled his eyes at the nicknames Thalia used each time she came to visit.

“Why are you and the hunters here?” He asked as he stared at all the hunters walking into Artemis’s cabin.

“What I can't just come by for a visit?”

“That's not what i meant and you know it” He laughed.

She sighed and said “Lady Artemis is hunting something near here so she thought it was best we stay here for a night or two”

He nodded “Well since you're here maybe i can get your advice on something?”

She narrows her eyes but agrees. He motions for her to go into Zeus’s cabin. She shudders as she walks in “This place still gives me the creeps but i like how you made it more…homely”

“Thank you?” He questions but sits on the couch he placed in there Thalia follows him and sits besides him.

“Sooo what did you need?”

Instead of replying he pulls out the box, opens it then hands it to her. Thalia lets out a small little gasp. “Is this real? Are you proposing to them?”

He nodded. “Wowww little bro stepping up” They both laughed and Jason said. “I just- I don't know when to do it or how. I bought the ring and thought i had a plan but i dont and im scared”

“Son of Jupiter all scared” Thalia teases before getting serious. “You want my advice so my advice is to go for it. You may want the “perfect” moment but truthfully there isn't one you just have to go for it. No point in waiting especially for people like us”

Jason knew she was referring to being a demigod. She was right to. This life there might never be a perfect moment. “Thank you Thalia”

“Of course Jason”

They both said goodbye and she walked to the Artemis cabin. Maybe now it was the time to do it.

***Time Skip***

It was a few days later and time for the date that Jason had planned. He called in a favor with Apollo who got him reservations at a fancy restaurant plus other things. He fixed his collar and breathed in. He got you to come to Camp Half Blood as he said that he would have to stay there for a few days because he was doing something there.

Someone then knocked on his cabin door. He knew it was you so he made sure he had the ring in his pocket and fixed his hair in the mirror. He breathed in to try and calm his anxiety and opened the door.

You were standing right there. “Hi” You beamed at him with your bright smile.

“Hi” he breathed out and shut the door behind him after grabbing his jacket. “You look amazing”

“Thank you”

He started to lead you to the edge of camp where he parked the car. Another favor from Apollo.

He opened your door and you sat down. He smiled at you again before closing your door and walking to the driver's side. He got in and asked “Ready to go?”

“Yep”

He started to drive and after many minutes of traffic you made it to the restaurant right on time.

Jason smiled at the waiter and said “Hi i have a reservation under the name Grace”

The waiter checked the computer then nodded “Right this way”

He took you to a table that was overlooking a gorgeous view. You both sat down.

Jason was still nervous and he kept wiping his palms on his pants before he sighed in an attempt to get rid of his nerves.

You both ordered and ate dinner. Jason is glad he called in that favor as the food here was amazing. Finally it was time for you both leave and instead of taking you to where the car was he got you to follow him into another direction.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he dragged you by the hand.

“It's a surprise” He pulled you in front of him and covered your eyes with his hands. “No peeking”

You laughed but didn't peek.

He continued to guide you until the path you were on turned more earthy. The scent hit you. It smelled amazing wherever he was taking you. Lots of flowery scents.

He finally took his hands off of your eyes and revealed a beautiful garden. You let out a breath “It's gorgeous”

You turned around in a circle after Jason backed off a little. So many different flowers everywhere with a little fountain in the middle.

You stared at the fountain that was in front of you before you heard Jason clear his throat behind you. You turned and gasped as you saw him down on one knee with a ring in his hand.

“I uh had a speech but it seems i forgot it now that i'm here”

You breathed out a laugh and your hands went to your face.

“I think i've loved you from the first time i saw you even though you tripped me and pushed me down the stairs the first time we met”

You both laughed and Jason continued. “I'm gonna try to not make this a long speech but honestly you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I'm glad I met you. Thank you for sticking with me through everything in our crazy life. So Y/n Y/l/n Will you marry me?”

You nodded as tears escaped your eyes and Jason grabbed your hand and put the ring on.

You dragged him up and hugged him “I love you so much” “I love you too”

Thalia was right there wouldn't be the perfect moment but this felt pretty perfect to Jason.

#jason grace fluff #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace fanfiction #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackson fanfiction #heros of olympus x reader #percy jackson heroes of olympus #heros of olympus fanfiction

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