#and everything else that comes with going to school i did
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I hate BPD so much, i hate it so much, i just want it to stop being like this.
I'll just go to sleep maybe I'll dream something nice but my god i hate my brain so much I don't even know who i am or what i need, i just want to feel okay i feel like im never enough for anyone. Im just tired and scared,ni hate how life isn't like the movies, i want my life to be a big fiction where im the protagonist, i watch movies and series and i just feel so much jealousy.
I wonder where my friends are, i wonder where my parents are. I wonder where's that childhood I've always wanted. I know I only have one chance to be alive and this is what i get? Remembering my childhood with a 8 year old me begging my mom to kill me bc i didn't want to keep being alive, i just wanted life to end at the tender age of 8 years old and my mom only laughed at me. And my dad doesn't even love me, he never did, i hate him so much as much as he hates me or even more. Idk what to do.
I ain't no perfect human, I'll never be as im sick since i was born and everywhere ill go I'll disgust everyone. Idk what to do anymore. I just want this suffering to stop. Talking isn't useful either, i just want some lovely arms to rest on and feel like I'm in the home i never had.
I hate to know how tough it is to have someone with mental illness as your friend or family, i hate to know im a burden and i hate to know that nobody will actually relate to any of my interests. The world should have stopped in 2015. i envy people that have friends and still do that bullshit of "no, im fine" and say internally "oh i love them, they're so lovely but I'll just keep quiet so i don't bother them" and their friends and family would die to know their state, selfish bullshit, i know you're sad and all but where tf did you get that idea??! I literally would die for your situation. My lord. I wish i could just have what you have. I wish i was skinny, i wish i was innocent, i wish i was a kid again and stop everything that's coming to me, i wish i had born somewhere else, i wish i wasn't me, i wish my brain wasn't like this, i wish nobody hated me, i wish i didn't hate everyone, i wish i could live, i wish my dad love me, i wish my family love me, i wish everyone love me, i wish i was a good person, i wish i was somewhere else.
I won't accept im 20 next year, I won't accept my life is ruined, I won't accept i am still alive.
I wanna be an idle teen. Something i couldn't even do. Im that autistic girl that died in her couch, that's me, it's just that nobody know it, nobody knows my parents don't care enough, nobody knows i drop off school bc of bullying and depression at 13 and that i rot in my bed.
The whole, "K*lling urself is a permanent solution to a temporary problem" bullshit is spouted by the ignorant lucky ones who have only had temporary problems. Some people's problems are permanent so maybe try offering actual help and support to them rather than regurgitating an overused phrase that means nothing to people with real struggles.
#Spotify#SoundCloud#adolescence didn't make sense#the ugly years of being a fool#diary post#actually bpd#bpd vent#vent#I'm fucked ip#hikineet#hikikomori
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Practice makes perfect | Leah Williamson x Reader
Where you and Leah practised kissing each other to prepare for kissing boys, but you quickly realise that after that you don't want to kiss anyone but her
Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k
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As the only two girls on the boys' team growing up, you and Leah clicked right away. Football brought you together, but it was everything else about her that kept you close. Not many people had stuck around in your life the way Leah had. From meeting at six years old to now, a decade later, she was still your best friend.
The football dream was becoming reality for the both of you. The young Lionesses and Arsenal Academy were where you spend most of your time besides school or each other’s houses. The two of you were inseparable and everyone knew it. Where you went Leah went, and visa versa.
“Remember when we were like twelve and we practised kissing?” Leah asks you out of nowhere while you’re sitting in her bed and playing video games. You think back to the moment.
It was a similar situation to this one, you were having a sleepover and had just finished watching a romcom. “How do you know if you’re gonna be a good kisser if you’ve never kissed someone before?” Leah asked with a voice filled with curiosity.
“I have no clue. Why don’t they show those parts in the movies?” You turned off the tv and pulled the covers further over your body. “Exactly! Like when I kiss a guy for the first time, I want to make sure that like I can kiss him properly, you know?”
You nodded, understanding her concerns. “What if we practised kissing together? Then we can tell each other if we’re any good.” Leah loved your idea and instantly sat up in bed again. “You are brilliant!”
She made you sit up as well and once you did she double checked if it was okay. When you nodded in confirmation, she leaned in and pecked your lips. “How did I do?” She instantly asked. “Good I think, what about me?” She smiled proudly, “Nice, you as well.”
You had practised a couple more times that night, and when you both liked boys, you had practised some more so that the first kisses you would have with them would be perfect.
“Yeah, I remember.” In the meantime Leah had paused the game to fully focus on the conversation she wanted to have. “I was wondering if maybe we could practise something again.”
“What do you want to practise?” You asked to urge her to go on. “Well, I heard from some girls in our class that they’ve been making out with their boyfriends, and they talked about how it goes and everything, but even with that information I don’t feel even remotely ready to just make out with a guy. So, I thought that maybe, if you’re up for it of course, we could practise like we did before?”
Even with the introduction Leah gave, her question still caught you off guard. Leah’s hopeful eyes were hard to ignore while you thought about her question. “Just so we don’t totally embarrass ourselves when the time comes.”
"Yeah, exactly! I don’t want to make things weird between us though, you can totally say no.” She quickly added. “It’s not weird.” you said shifting to sitting cross-legged, facing Leah, on her bed. “We’re just practising.”
Leah’s face lit up with relief, “Exactly, Just practising.” She turned to sit cross-legged as well. She told you how your classmates had described making out, so you were both on the same page.
“So, eh,” you cleared your throat, “do we just go for it?” Leah let out a nervous laugh, “I guess so?” You nodded, which Leah took as her sign to start leaning in. She inched closer slowly, until her lips brushed yours.
At first she just pecked your lips like you had practised before. Your heart started beating faster, but you didn’t understand why. Her soft, warm lips on yours felt familiar, yet somehow different. “Still okay?” She asked to make sure you wanted to do this as well. “Yeah.”
You leaned in this time and let your lips move in sync with hers. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as Leah reached out her hand and cupped your cheek to pull you a little closer.
When she pulled back after a few moments, her eyes searched yours. “How was that?”
Your brain felt like it was running a million miles an hour, and you were scrambling to find words. “Good.” You managed finally. “What about me?” Leah’s lips quirked into that proud smile she had done last time, “Good too.”
A feeling came over you that you had never felt before, you couldn’t quite place it, but before you could overthink it, Leah was leaning in again. “Practice makes perfect, right?” she said softly, and when you didn’t move away, her lips were on yours again.
That night while Leah slept soundly besides you, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Trying to make sense of what you were feeling.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later when you saw Leah kiss a boy in your class, that you realised what was happening. The moment you saw the two of them together, you felt a pang of jealousy. All you knew in that moment was that you weren’t jealous of Leah in that moment, but you were jealous of him.
You turned on your heels and got away from the situation as quickly as possible. Of course, you headed straight over to the football field. The one place where everything felt right. You must’ve spent hours kicking a ball around until your parent’s called asking when you’d be home. “No Leah tonight?” Your mom had asked when you walked in, seemingly without the blonde by your side. You hadn’t even thought about it, but usually Leah would join you on Fridays. “Eh, no not tonight.” You say quickly. “Do I have time for a quick shower?” Your mom nodded and you rushed to your room.
You checked your phone and sure enough you had a bunch of messages from Leah. The last one read I hope everything is alright. Couldn’t find you at school so I headed home. Please text me back!
You didn’t text Leah back that night, or the next morning. It wasn’t that you were mad at her, of course you weren’t, you didn’t think you ever could be, but you just didn’t know what to say. Every time you thought about her, you saw that boy’s lips on hers. Every time you saw it play back in your mind, it made your chest ache.
But Leah was Leah. Persistent, stubborn, and your best friend. So, it didn’t take her long to just show up at your house unannounced.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” She stated from your doorframe, after your dad had let her in. She found you laying on the floor with one of your textbooks in front of you, trying to bury yourself into your homework. “What’s going on?”
You glanced at her and then quickly focused back on your textbook. “Nothing.” Leah shook her head and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Liar.” She sighed, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” You said a little too quickly and defensive for Leah to believe it. She crossed her arms and leaned against your door, studying you like she was trying to solve a puzzle. “I just need some space.” You said softly, unable to meet her eye.
“Since when do we do space?” Her voice softened. She walked further into your room and sat down on the edge of your bed. “Come on, talk to me.”
You wanted to. You wanted to tell her everything. You always told Leah everything, but how could you tell her about your feelings? How could you tell her that you were jealous of a guy she kissed? Talk about the way your heart raced when you made eye contact with her?
“I’m fine, Lee.” You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes and Leah could tell. You saw that she was fighting her inner monologue to press further, her lips parting like she was about to. Before she could say anything, your mother yelled upstairs, “Leah, honey, are you staying for dinner?”
Leah turned to you, “Do you want me to go?” You shake your head, “No, it’s okay. You can stay.” She opened the door and told your mom she would love to before turning back to you. “I’m gonna help her with dinner, you know, so you can have some more space.” This time you noticed her smile not fully reaching her eyes, but before you could say anything, she had already closed the door behind herself.
You stopped ignoring Leah, because you knew she would just find a way in, but that didn’t mean that your interactions were any less awkward, well at least for you. From Leah’s side it seemed like nothing had happened, while you questioned every interaction you had with her.
When she laughed at your jokes, or let her hand linger on your arm or leg, everything made your skin feel like it was on fire.
A few weeks later Leah was picking out her prom outfit with her mom. She had tried on a bunch of dresses, but none of them seemed to be what she was looking for. Today was the last chance of finding something, since prom was literally tonight. So, Amanda was determined to spend the whole morning driving from store to store until they found something.
It was the third store of the morning where Leah’s eyes fell on a baby blue suit, and she knew instantly that that was going to be the one. Her mom encouraged her to put it on, and the smile on her daughter’s face was exactly the reason why she had.
“This is going to be the one!” Leah said as she admired the suit in the mirror. “It’s lovely Leah Cathrine.” Leah smiled big, “Thank you.” After paying for the clothes, the pair headed back to the car.
“Oh mom, I wanted to ask if you could drive y/n and me tonight.” Her mom’s brow furrowed. “Darling of course I would, but I thought y/n wasn’t going?” Leah looks at her mom as if she was crazy. “What makes you think that?”
“Oh well, because that’s what she said yesterday. She said she wasn’t really feeling up to going.” Leah didn’t understand, you hadn’t told her anything. “But she was so excited about it and had her outfit picked out like months ago already. Do you know why she isn’t going?”
Amanda shakes her head, “I don’t know.” Leah was quick to respond. “You didn’t push further?” Amanda chuckles lightly, “No, that’s more your thing, darling.”
Leah sat back in the seat and crossed her arm, going over what she could do. “Can you drive me to her place tonight?” She nodded, “Sure, darling.”
You were watching a movie in your sweats when you heard a knock on the door. When you opened the door, Leah stood in front of you with a small bouquet of flowers. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at prom?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Leah shoots back instantly. “I’m not going Lee, you should still go though. I’m sure your boyfriend would like you to be there.”
“Boyfriend?” Leah steps inside and closes the door behind her. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.” You shrug your shoulders, “I saw you and Steve kiss, figured you two were together.”
“Oh no definitely not.” Leah said defensively, “He kissed me, and I told him that I wasn’t interested.” You searched her eyes for anything to prove what she was saying wrong, but she seemed sincere. “Oh.”
“So, come to prom with me?” Leah said, holding out the bouquet to you. “Sorry, Lee, I can’t.” She retracted the flowers reluctantly. “Why not?”
Her question hung in the air. Again you wanted to tell her, but you just couldn’t. “I just can’t, please drop it.” But Leah was Leah and there wasn’t any scenario in which she would drop this. “I won’t drop it. You’ve been excited about your outfit, the music, the pictures. You’ve been talking about prom non-stop for months and now you’re here in sweats not going. Please just tell me what’s going on. If I did something, let me in and let me fix it.” Her plea sounded desperate.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, and there is nothing you can fix.” You sighed in frustration, wishing she would just drop it. “Did someone else do something? Please just tell me what’s going on.”
“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” Leah focussed on you instantly, not having expected you to break so soon. “I can’t go to prom with you because ever since we practised making out, all I can think about is wanting to kiss you again.”
Your eyes were looking anywhere but Leah, not ready to see the way she would react to that confession. “Please look at me.” She slowly reached up her hand to your cheek to turn your head to face her. You expected anger, disgust, or even hurt in her eyes, but instead you were met with softness.
“You know the reason I told Steve I wasn’t interested?” You shook your head. “It’s because after he kissed me, I felt nothing. Which was a stark opposite to how I felt when we kissed. I swear it was just practise when I asked you, but I think that was exactly what I needed to realise my feelings for you.” Leah confessed.
You stare at her for a moment, taking in the confession. She liked you the same way that you liked her? The corners of your lips slowly rose as it was all coming together in your head. And then without hesitation, you lean in and kiss her for real this time. She kissed you back instantly, and pulled you closer like she had done last time. It felt even better than your time practising, now knowing your feelings for each other.
When Leah pulled away, she leaned her forehead against yours. “So, prom?” Your smile grew. “Yes, just let me get changed.”
You rushed to your room and quickly got ready. “Wow, you look amazing!” Leah said as you walked back downstairs. “So do you!” You pecked her lips appreciatively. She took your hand and pulled you out the door where her mom was still waiting in the driveway. “Ready to go to prom, girls?” She knew by your happy faces that whatever was going on between the two of you these past weeks, was resolved. “Yeah, more than ready.” You said and Leah squeezed your hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”
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#leah williamson#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson x reader#arsenal wfc#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal women#arsenal women x reader#awfc#awfc x reader#engwnt#engwnt x reader#engwnt imagine#lionesses#lionesses x reader#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso imagines
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Some thoughts on The Discourse about the last BNHA cover
(Note: This Discourse was on Twitter. I don’t know how much of this may have been said here on Tumblr, so consider this either my contribution or just me reporting back on drama from other fronts.)
So, I saw a lot of back and forth over there between people who didn’t like the cover and people who did, and I spent a little while mulling it over. It seemed to me that the people who didn’t like it had a good point, but one they were not articulating particularly well, possibly thanks to the character limit and possibly also because the people talking about it tended to phrase their objections in sarcastic, consciously exaggerated terms because that’s the language months and months of dealing with the truly insufferable Horikoshi Defense Squad on Twitter primed them to use.
So what is the point? Basically this: In going for the lazy/easy callback in both the cover design and Dai (plate-hair kid)'s role in the final chapter more generally, Horikoshi landed on an "everything comes full circle" ending when what the story desperately needed was an indicator of change.
We didn't need to know that a kid with low self-confidence and nothing to speak of in the quirk department can still become a Pro Hero if he[1] wants to. We already knew that because it's what the whole story of BNHA was about! Deku passing the torch/paying it forward is nice if all you care about is Deku's personal arc, but it's sheer reductiveness if you care about literally anything else. If there was going to be a kid getting Deku's encouragement and help at the end, if that's the ending Hori was absolutely set on, it shouldn't have been the Deku Redux kid; it shouldn't have been the weak kid who has already been metaphorically proven capable of becoming a Hero.
1: And of course it would be a boy.
It should have been the troubled kid, the one from the bad family situation, the one who isn't sure whether he even believes in this Hero thing. It should have been the kid who, if nothing about Hero Society had changed, would’ve been rejected by the whole corrupt system—in so many words, the Tenko Redux kid. That's the one who we saw could not become a Hero under the previous system. That's who we needed to demonstrate the system's improvement.
Instead, all we get is Deku helping himself. And it fits, I guess, because “himself” is the only sort of person Deku ever wanted to save anyway—remember that in the very first chapter, Deku tells All Might that he wants to be a Hero because he was never “saved” as a kid and so he thinks saving is the coolest thing ever. Implicitly, then, Deku wanted to be the kind of Hero who could have saved the kid he was, and that tendency to reserve his compassion for people he can recognize himself in—the crying children and the Hero wannabes—is consistent throughout the series. Dai, then, simply becomes the very last of these examples, the chance for Deku to tell his middle school self that he, too, can be a great Hero.
And that’s quite a choice, isn’t it? Take a second to consider the implications there. The metaphorical parallel Deku helps is his middle school self, not his childhood self—there’s no evidence that Dai was bullied on the same level young Izuku was, and we sure didn’t see anyone telling him to jump off a roof. So, who does save those children, then, in this grand, improved version of Hero Society? Does anyone?
Well, not really. Not that we’re shown. Indeed, the child who was the closest analogue to young Izuku—a weak and seemingly quirkless boy who stuck his neck out for other rejected children, who still stubbornly wanted to be a Hero despite a parent's disapproval—was Tenko, and Deku pointedly did not save him.
To be clear, I don’t mean that just in the sense that Deku failed to save the adult Tenko became, but even in the emotional sense that the series clearly wants me to believe Deku succeeded at, the saving of the boy's heart? I don’t think Deku even managed that. Sure, he might have protected the echo of that child from a few memories, might have held his hands for a few exchanges of dialogue, but then the boy transformed back into the form of the Villain he'd become and was swallowed down the spiritual maw of the man from whom society failed to save Tenko to begin with! And what was Deku doing as this happened? Absolutely nothing but yelling impotently as he got blown backward and out of the mindscape.
Imagine that Deku had found some way to cheer up Izumi Kouta only for Muscular to kill the kid thirty seconds later. No one would be saying, “I think Deku still saved him—his heart, anyway,” if Deku got Kouta to smile and admit that Heroes were actually pretty cool only to do nothing but scream helplessly as he watched Muscular pulverize Kouta’s ribcage with one gentle squeeze.[2]
2: Mind you, this comparison is flawed! Unlike AFO’s vestige, Muscular doesn’t turn up to kill a child as a direct result of Deku’s own actions. Also unlike the events of the final battle, Deku doesn't jump up and personally administer the killing blow to the still-screaming victim, either.
It just leaves me thinking about some of the stuff @codenamesazanka has said about how the narrative treats Shigaraki and Deku helping him: not as something Deku has a duty to do, not something Hero Society on the whole owes Shigaraki (and all the other metaphorical expy/future Shigarakis), but rather a bonus, a nice extra, a demonstration to shine up Deku's Hero cred because he's making efforts no one else would bother with and that no one would reasonably expect him to make. It's not Deku’s job to save the Tenkos or the young Izukus of the world; apparently that just falls to society at large.
So then, what was the point of making Tenko/Tomura such an extreme case of someone who started in a similar place to Deku? Why make him, also, a weak kid who was told he couldn't be a Hero, if you're not going to have Deku save him in the way no one saved Deku himself?
From where I'm sitting, the answer is, "It seemed like a good idea to Horikoshi at the time, but proved to be poorly thought out." But if Deku failing to save his own closest childhood analogue was where the story was going the whole time, then Shigaraki should never have been used to parallel Deku to begin with. It's just a damned waste of Shigaraki as a character, an insult to everything he represented, to use him for ~the parallels~ throughout the entirety of the story except the very beginning and the very end.
Anyway, Pro Heroes are bullshit and the ending should have been them being radically reconceived from the ground up with input from all the people they failed to save. But again, if you have to still have Heroes-qua-Heroes at the end, and you have to have some stupid thematic echo because you as an author think callbacks are the single most compelling storytelling tool of all time, then everything we got on Dai should have been for Scissors-kun instead, and here I am very much including Dai's scene before the first war. An unsettling scene of a strange child with his mouth sewn shut, stuck in a straitjacket in a dark room should have been the last thing we saw before launching into the day of the raids, an apparent element for the future in the same way that so many future Villains were first shown in the wake of Stain's arrest.
See, Shigaraki’s own destructiveness is what ultimately frees Scissors-kun from the basement, “saving” this rejected, abused child in a way no Hero ever managed or even knew to try, just as Shigaraki brought light and a strange sort of hope to the lives of so many others whom Heroes failed. However, Shigaraki couldn't carry his ambitions through to the end. He was never able to meet the kid he indirectly saved, never able to offer that appallingly abused victim an avenue for his signature brand of rough justice. Heroes stopped him from doing so. So then, who will help Scissors-kun?
If we’re to believe that the story's protagonist has made a real difference, that Deku and his classmates have changed the world for the better, then we don't need to see them helping a kid who we already know is going to turn out fine because “he” aleady did. We need to see them help the people that previously only Villains would have helped, picking up the torch they struck from Shigaraki’s hands.
So sure, keep the scene with Granny Evil and Scissors-kun if you must, to show that it’s not only Heroes but also the broader Hero Society that’s changed. After that, though, show Deku stepping in. Show him taking an interest in this kid as a way to keep his promises—to Shigaraki, that the rejection and obliviousness that he sought to destroy have indeed been destroyed and will remain so, and to Spinner, that Deku will remember Shigaraki for the rest of his life.
When Deku is older and in a position to give advice to a kid who’s floundering and uncertain of what to do with his life because of what people around him say about him, make that character echo the characters the old system failed to save, not the character who the entire story proved would do just fine.
For god's sake, ditch Deku Redux.
Now, I know the obvious rejoinder here: We can’t use Deku’s story to say that BNHA already showed us that Dai would be fine because Dai has a quirk where Deku did not, therefore Deku’s path would not be open to Dai. To this, I would reply that neither Deku nor Dai specify that Dai wants/is able to be a top Hero, merely that he be the kind of Hero people can admire—which the story has also already proven true!
Ojiro got into UA with nothing but one (1) extra limb.
Manual has a perfectly middling quirk that turned out to be absolutely crucial in two different wars because it was the right quirk at the right time.
Wash’s quirk makes strong bubbles.
Like, this list is not short. Manifest Plates might or might not make Dai Hero Billboard material, but one of the major points of the endgame was the sublime and noble value of helping when you can, in the way that you can. So to reiterate, we didn’t need that to be proven again in the epilogue.
If anything, going the route of retreading the same story makes the epilogue much worse! Not only do we not get to see how this society is helping the people the old society most profoundly failed—victims who fall through the cracks and become Villains—but in seeing yet another a weak kid being mocked for his heroic aspirations, we find that we’ve barely moved a step beyond the exact same place we started.
That’s the message Horikoshi chose to go with, for both the closing chapters of the story and the story’s final volume cover. Truly, as art that summarizes the story goes, it’s a masterful choice! And that's the whole problem. The cover of Volume 42 is a perfect illustration of the self-absorbed, cynical, cyclical nature of BNHA's endgame. Little wonder, then, that it's hated by the same people who hated said endgame.
#bnha#bnha critical#green no. 2#shigaraki tomura#bnha scissors-kun#more protag slander for the discerning palate#stillness has salt#bnha endgame
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In the Still of the Night, ch 3
Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.
But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.
Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Flirting, still a little awkwardness, blindfold, sensory deprivation, foreplay, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: Your day out with Zach gets more intense at every turn. Notes: Hopefully you're all enjoying the prolonged date as much as we -- and they -- are! (As always, chapter gifs are for the vibes, not to physically describe the characters.)
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2
It isn't hard for anyone who sees you during the rest of the day to spot the dreamy couple out on a date. The older woman who shows you to your table at the restaurant Zach picked out for dinner gives you a wink in agreement that he's an absolute cutie pie and comes back a few minutes later with two glasses of wine and a candle for your table despite none of the others having one set out.
He had chosen a restaurant that was more local than tourist and had been thrilled when there was no formal dress code. Eager to sit down with you after so much walking and talk about more of anything and everything that has been the topics of the day. “So how did you start out singing?” He asks curiously.
“My elementary school had a chorus.” It might be the first time in hours you haven’t been holding hands, but you’re still smiling as you sit side by side with your wine watching the sun set. “I stuck with it because I was a kid and it was fun, then the dance lessons got added, and then as I got older I realized that I also liked theater. It became a combination.”
“So you were a theatre kid.” He nods in understanding. He hadn’t been, but he had been friends with some and understood the passion of performing even if he didn’t have it.
“That’s how I ended up in New York.” You tell him, expression twisting into something like regret. “Just another small town kid convinced they could be the next Broadway star. Obviously that didn’t happen.”
“But you tried.” He reminds you, leaning against your shoulder and wishing he could take away the sadness. “Some people never try.”
“I go between thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, and wondering why I ever bothered at all.” With that offer of support there, you lean against his shoulder in turn and shrug gently. “It is what it is, I guess. But…how did you start cooking?”
Zach sighs softly, knowing that it would eventually come up. “Actually, I just started cooking a few years ago.” He admits.
“You did?” That surprises you enough to turn your head and look at him more fully. “So it’s just at natural talent, then?”
“I guess?” He shrugs slightly. “I got a job working in a kitchen. Saved my life.” He tells you. “Threw myself into it and experimented as much as I could and read everything I could get my hands on.”
“So you stumbled into your calling.” There is something else there, something he doesn’t want to tell you, so you don’t push. “That’s wonderful, though. Some people never find what they’re meant to do in their whole lives.”
“It helps with my anxiety.” He admits with a self deprecating grin. “So I decided that it was the best thing for me. One day I’d like to have a restaurant. One that I can plan every detail, down to free meals for the homeless.”
“I love that.” Without hesitation, the idea is not only a kind one but one you can tell means a great deal to him. “Some places have a system where you can pay for meals for others in advance, too. System like that can be used to pay for extra supplies so no one ever has to be turned away.”
“That would be amazing.” He’s had benefited from that kind of system before, but not often. And he knows how uplifting a good, hot meal can be when you are down.
"You can make it happen." Something in your gut tells you that he can and he will, and even though you have no stake in it, you can't help but feel proud of him for that.
“I’m hoping.” He flashes you a grateful grin. Even your confidence in him sounds so sure when he’s always wondered if he can succeed. “The club on the ship has given me so many ideas.”
"I've been eating your ideas," you remind him with a grin. "And they're fantastic. You're really good, Zach. Any place would be lucky to have you and any team would be lucky to have you lead them."
“What about you?” He asks. “This has to be a stepping stone for you. I’ve already heard from the crew that you might have some head hunters after you.” One of the passengers was apparently connected in the music industry and had been in to the club several nights.
"If I do, that's news to me." Whatever murmurings Zach has heard, you haven't. But you would be lying if you claimed not to be curious. "I don't know, honestly. I think I would rather be a headliner in a little club than wave a rose in a Broadway chorus for the rest of my life. But the chances of either are relatively slim." You take a sip of your wine and offer him a smile, shrugging one shoulder. "In my dreams I'm getting top billing in the biggest musicals and you're running the most popular restaurant in the country. Ultimate New York City power couple."
“That sounds amazing.” Zach chuckles. “Actually, running this style club, I think it would work in New York.” He tells you. “A dinner club.”
"I know it's something that you see in retirement communities in Florida, but I have always loved dinner theater." His laugh is sweet and deep and rolls through you like a wave of joy. "This club is such a great gig for people like us."
“Yes it is, but imagine….” He sighs softly. “Creating a headliner show like you would see in Vegas, right in New York and pairing it with a daily changing menu like we do here.”
"New York would love a show like that." It sounds so doable when he says it. Like a dream you could reach for and pluck out of the sky.
“It would be sold out.” He agrees, flashing a hopeful smile. “One day, maybe if I had the right singer to run the show side of things.”
"I guess you're going to have to get to know some singers then, aren't you?" His bright smile is reflected right back at him, teasing as always but it's because part of you can't dare to dream this big for yourself. Only for him.
“I will.” He nods and shrugs. “Maybe hold auditions or something. Singing for your supper?”
"That's what most of us do." You agree, not wanting your smile to flicker at all even if the memories sting. "Sometimes literally."
Zach catches the change, the dimming of the light in your eyes and he knows that he’s touched on a sensitive topic for you. “I get it.” He promises quietly. “I think I gravitated towards cooking because I knew if I was making food for others, I would not have that gnawing ache of hunger ever again.” He licks his lips. “Food insecurity, the therapist called it.”
Your heart sinks, chest tightening, and you nod as you slip your hand back into his. "I wish I was more surprised to find out that more than a few of us have been there. But a job like ours...with guaranteed housing and meals and a way to save money for months at a time? It makes sense that it would attract people who have had it hard."
Of course you would be understanding. His eyes close as he nods, feeling a little choked up by the compassion in your voice and the understanding in your touch. “Absolutely. And I hate that you’ve had a moments bad luck.” He murmurs. “You deserve so much.”
"So do you." You squeeze his hand gently. "Bad luck doesn't make us bad people."
“Not at all.” His hand slips from yours and his arm wraps around your shoulders protectively. “Now - before we start choking up, what do you want to try?” He wants this date to be nothing but a lovely moment for you and he tries to steer the conversation to more positive thoughts.
Without saying another word about it, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and refocus on the menu in his hands. They have enough tourists in town that the menu from this restaurant has one-sentence item descriptions in English that simply tell non-Greek speakers the main ingredients of each dish. A quick glance around you shows you that everything here seems to be served family style, and you settle in Zach's side again happily.
"How does this sound?" You ask, pointing out the special. Gamopilafo. The menu says, with Arnáki Stamnagathi. "Greek risotto with lamb and vegetables?"
“That sounds amazing.” Zach groans happily and nods. “Do you want to get that and something else?” He doesn’t want you to share with him if you are just trying to make the bill cheaper, he can afford paying for dinner.
"It looks like it's family style? Maybe we can get another side dish to go with it so we can try more?" You shrug slightly, knowing that food was just a topic of some stress for both of you. "Sharing sounds nice. But not if you don't want to."
“I’m not opposed to sharing at all.” He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose to yours. “I’ll share anything with you.”
"Promises, promises." It's too tempting to have him close and not indulge in another kiss, but you keep it short and chaste in case Zach isn't too into public displays of affection. The half dozen or so kisses that you have shared today have been relatively private so you want to respect that for him.
Zach smiles, beams really. “What else do you want, baby?” The term of endearment slips out, but he doesn’t try to take it back or apologize. Feeling like it’s just the natural next step of this amazing day.
While the honest answer is him, that isn't what he's asking so you pull yourself out of the dirty thoughts you've been having on and off all damn day and look back down at the menu. In the top section there is something that lists cheese, fruit, bread, and flavored local olive oil, so you point that out. "Cretan charcuterie plate to start?"
“I think that’s a good idea.” Zach agrees and smiles at you. “We can see if we can come up with our own ideas for a board.”
"We'll have enough menu ideas for three new restaurants if we let our imaginations wander." Which is not a bad thing at all, but it does have both of you grinning when the waitress comes over to take your order.
Zach orders for the both of you, checking in with his eyes to make sure that it’s everything you want and hands the menu over with a pleasant smile for the waitress. Enjoying the knowing glances she shoots between the two of you. “I think that she thinks we are newlyweds or something.” He confesses quietly when she walks away. “What do you think?”
“Maybe.” Don’t be so you, you remind yourself for the hundredth time in your head. “I don’t know how many people come around here being cuddly on a fantastic day-long first date.”
“It has been fantastic, hasn’t it?” He muses, reminding himself that neither one of you has walked away or even been upset today. Not really.
“I think so.” There are clearly more things to talk about in your future, but today has left you optimistic that that future could exist. “I’m glad you do, too.”
“So, what’s your favorite type of wine?” He asks. “With charcuterie? Are you a white wine or sangria girl?”
“I’m a whatever wine you serve me kind of girl,” you tell him with an amused laugh. “But I do love sangria. There are very few things that aren’t made better with a glass of sangria or a margarita.”
“A margarita; huh?” He smirks. “Salt on the rim or sugar?”
“Depends on the flavor.” After all, your palate isn’t nonexistent, it’s just uneducated. “But usually salt.”
“A watermelon margarita is my favorite.” He admits. “Salt and sugar on the rim.”
“Salt and sugar?” That has you raising an eyebrow. “Color me intrigued.”
“It’s delicious.” He chuckles. “Goes with a hamburger or ribs. Drinks just like water.”
“That sounds incredible.” It sounds absolutely mouthwatering, actually, and you crack a grin. “Maybe I’m just really hungry.”
“Next crew party why don’t we do sliders and margaritas?” He offers. “I think you’d love it.”
“It sounds amazing.” You can agree to that without hesitation. “But I would also eat an old sneaker if it came out of your kitchen, so just know I’m always here for your food.”
“So boil shoe leather.” He pretends to make a note and laughs when you shove him playfully.
“You boil shoe leather and I’ll sing scales off key. Our worst work night ever.”
Zach throws his head back and laughs. The deep, belly laugh of a man who is completely convinced that it possible could happen and finds it up-roaringly funny. “You’re perfect.”
“You’re perfect.” He doesn’t need to know that a musical lyric sprung to mind instantly. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve been thinking it for an hour or more now. But you do hope he knows that the absolute affection shining in your eyes is honest and real.
He hums, not exactly able to take a compliment as well as he can give one. Instead he clinks his wine glass against yours. “To being perfect together.” He offers with a smile.
Neither of you take compliments well, you note with a smile, but drink deeply from your glass and enjoy a private smile that he unknowingly completed the thought of the song lyric in your head. “I know you’re supposed to wait until the end of the date to say it,” you set down your glass, thank the waitress when she brings over the first course, and restart your thought after a few seconds. “But I really think we should do this again.”
Zach’s heart leaps at your comment, happy that you have said that. “Well, of course we should.” He agrees, winking at you as he starts to dip a crusty piece of bread into the seasoned olive oil. “But I was thinking maybe we spend a little more time together on the ship when we can?”
"We could always skip the crew parties now and then to have time to ourselves." Following suit, you dive into the cheese board along with him. The cured olives and soft cheese are calling your name. "I wouldn't mind that at all."
“I mainly go to the crew parties to see you.” Zach confesses with a shy smile, offering you the dipped bread after he’s spread a bit of goat’s cheese on top of it.
"I–" Your eyes drop, your whole face heats, and you clear your throat before offering him an olive that you have stuffed with a pinch of soft sheep's milk cheese. "I go to the crew parties to see you."
Zach snorts and shakes his head. “We are pathetic.” He teases. “Mooning over each other and not even aware of it until Shane makes you take me a drink.”
"He tried to tell me," you admit after trying the bite that Zach made for you. Like everything else he's ever fed you, it's perfect. "I just...didn't really think I had a shot."
“He would always talk about you.” He huffs. “Making that crush I was suffering under nearly unbearable.” He smirks. “I guess he was hoping to push me into making a move.”
“And when you didn’t, he pushed me instead.” Which is a very Shane thing to do, really. He’s always been a little bit too cocky for his own good. “He’s like my big brother. So it makes perfect sense that he would meddle endlessly.”
“He basically adopted me once we became roommates.” Zach agrees. “He’s a good guy with a surprisingly big heart.”
“It took him a while to get there,” you acknowledge, not quite knowing how much of Shane’s story he had shared with Zach. “But now that he has? He’ll be damned if he doesn’t help everyone that he can.”
“Yeah.” Zach nods. “From what he’s told me, he’s completely different than when he was first sent away.”
“He showed me a picture once. Oh how he dresses and everything back then.” Just keeping the topic about appearance is lighthearted. That way you don’t dip too far into past seriousness. “Even if that was the only thing that changed, he really is a completely different guy now.”
“Jet black hair.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Dude has amazing hair now. I’m a little jealous of it.” Shane still has earrings, but he’s no longer sporting the goth edge he had back in his younger years.
“Do you ever think about growing yours out?” Zach still has short-trimmed hair that is probably a cinch to take care of, but he might look great with it longer.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve worn it long.” He admits, rubbing his hand up the back of his head. “Since high school.” He snorts. “But I’ve not given it a lot of thought, honestly. Why? You think it would look good longer?” He asks, curious about your preferences. Everyone has them, it’s like preferring clean shaven over a beard.
“I caught myself wondering once if your hair was curly when it grows out,” you admit, clearing your throat a little from being flustered. Admitting that you’ve wondered and daydreamed about him is a big step to your mind.
“Yeah?” A slow, pleased grin starts to stretch across his face as he turns back towards you again. “Daydreaming about running your fingers through my hair?”
“Maybe.” The huff in your voice is pure embarrassment, though you’re glad that he seems to like the idea rather than being weirded out by it.
“Then I have to confess something…” he drops his voice down to a whisper like it’s a secret. “I really love when the hairdresser runs her fingers through my hair when cutting it.”
It feels like a far more visceral tease than you’ve been giving him, and you can practically feel how soft his shirt hair is when your eyes flick up to it. “Noted,” you manage to huff out a second later, banishing the mental image of Zach beneath you as you card your fingers through growing curls.
He smirks and winks at you when you manage to look at him again, finding it incredibly empowering to know that you are on the same level as he is. Both of you wanting so much, but being too shy to reach for it. Someone will have to make a move, but right now, he’s enjoying the flirting and bantering.
Neither of you seem to care much that it takes longer to make bites out of your appetizer if you hold hands, enjoying the small show of intimacy more than anything else. You're loathe to give up that connection now that you have it.
Zach enjoys sharing with you. Often making bites for you to try, and he smiles every time you groan in pleasure.
“Just because I have no idea how to cook anything doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it,” you insist, and you’re laughing together when your waitress brings out your shared entree. The large and shallow bowl is obviously meant to be shared but is beautifully arranged — vegetables bringing color with the creamy risotto-like grains and tantalizingly seared and roasted lamb.
“Many blessings.” She is smiling at both of you as she puts the food down between you. “Happy marriage to young love.”
“Thank you.” Zach doesn’t correct her, beaming instead and bringing up your hand and kissing the back of it. If they believe that you are newlyweds, who are you to disclaim it?
Seeing him go with the assumption instead of correcting the woman makes your heart swell. There is something deeply soft and intimate about the gesture and you’re sure you must look so deeply entranced by your date that protesting wouldn’t do any good anyway.
“Soulmates?” The older woman asks, looking at the two of you with the pride of a grandmother.
Zach bites his lip, unsure of how to answer that, so he just wings it. “What do you think?” He asks, reaching out and caressing your cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”
"Very." The woman agrees, and with another proud smile she clasps both of your shoulders and heads off again to the kitchen with the purpose and speed of someone off to share vital gossip.
Zach smiles at you. “Well, I guess that makes us official.” He hums. “What do you think?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Want to be my girlfriend? Or should we jump straight to soulmate and wife?” He asks. “We’ve already gotten approval here.”
"It might be a little dramatic to show back up to the ship married." And yet you're grinning. You're absolutely beaming at him in a way that can't possibly be contained and for the first time today you don't want it to be. "But I love the sound of girlfriend."
“I’m sure we wouldn’t have been the first couple to have done that.” He doesn’t take offense to you ignoring the remark about soulmates. He’s seen you without sleeves enough to know that you don’t have his tattoo. You can’t be his soulmate, but he is drawn to you like he’s never been to another woman. “But girlfriend sounds perfect to me too.”
"I'm not one of those people that swears soulmates are the only possible relationship," you explain, as the two of you rearrange your little table to share your entree comfortably. The waitress had also brought you fresh drinks so the little table is loaded down with tantalizing options. "My parents aren't soulmates and they've been happily married for almost forty years. It's a great thing, but I always thought choosing your person yourself was more important than anything else."
“Interesting.” Zach is impressed and he nods. “I know that soulmates aren’t everything, but my parents were.” He tells you, smiling a little sadly. “They were probably the best relationship I’ve ever seen.”
"We both had good role models for healthy relationships. That's far more rare than it should be, I think." You note the past tense in his words but don't push, instead watching as he carefully serves the meal onto the two smaller plates you were given.
The lamb smells amazing and Zach is already drooling, imagining what he could make. “Are you ready to give me ideas?” He teases as he looks up from finishing plating.
"Dinner ideas?" You raise an eyebrow at him and pick up your fork, feeling bold with the help of the waitress who broke the ice and managed to make you Zach's girlfriend with a touch of cute teasing. "Or dirty ideas?"
“I accept all ideas.” Zach promises, his voice dipping down slightly, turning sensual.
"Fuck." Even just a quiet groan of frustration from you is enough to let him know exactly where you're at. Every single time he kisses you, you're convinced that you're going to soak through your shorts, and you no longer care if he knows it or not.
“I’ve been thinking about something.” Zach starts, forking up a bite of the risotto and trying it with a groan of approval.
"Tell me." There have been a few more serious topics touched on today without delving too deep, but you have faith that whatever it is that's on his mind won't be bad.
“We don’t have to be back on the ship until tomorrow morning.” The club is closed for the night while in port since the majority of the passengers are on shore. “What do you think about not going back tonight?”
"Like...find a little hotel?" Your fork is halfway to your mouth when you meet his eyes, seeing that there is the same spark of desire there as in your own. "That would certainly be more comfortable than using one of our bunks after we kick our roommate out," you agree, letting a grin crawl across your face.
“We don’t have to.” He stresses, not wanting you to feel like he expects to spend the night with you.
"I know." But you shrug with just a touch of guilt. "And if you want to wait that's totally fine. But...I definitely want to."
“I want to.” He is quick to reassure you of that. “I really want to. I just—” he bandied about for the right words. “Didn’t want to come off as pushy.”
"Pushy is normally my problem." you promise him. "The other part of Shane's whole 'be less you' advice was not rolling up to our first date and telling you we would make beautiful children." It's still of a hell of a way to come on strong so you laugh it off, but it's true all the same. "You've been anything but pushy, baby."
“You would have beautiful babies with Shrek.” He snorts, shaking his head. “My genes would have nothing to do with it.”
"Don't count yourself out." The grin on your face slides sideways and the two of you dig into your dinner in earnest. "Those curls of yours on a little baby? Cuties."
He blushes slightly, imagining how a baby with you would look. It’s a fantasy that he never even imagined being able to consider just a few years ago. “Only because of you. And most babies are cuties anyway.”
“They are.” That’s just a fact as far as you’re concerned. The two of you continue to eat for another minute or so before your mind catches up with all the possible consequences of that topic coming up and you almost stutter as you reach for your wine glass. “I’m—I’m on birth control, though,” you point out. Like he might think you’re trying to baby trap him on the first date just because you think babies are cute. “That’s…like I want kids eventually but I’m not crazy about it.”
This is happening. Zach swallows a bite of the deliciously fragrant and juicy lamb so he doesn’t choke. “Good. I mean, I would still want to wear a- birth control shouldn’t just be on you.” He tells you. “I’m clean, but I- it’s always good to- you know, uh, be safe.”
“I’m clean too, and if you feel more comfortable with a condom that’s totally fine, I just—” Who knows if more wine is actually a good idea at this point but you take about gulp out of nerves. “I didn’t want you to think I had any motivation for…you know…tonight, other than really liking you.”
He has to laugh at that, reaching for your hand and winking at you. “You’re focusing on your career. I don’t think that your grand plan is to be knocked up by the chef of the club you headline your first contract out.” He promises.
“Well when you say it like that it sounds silly.” And yet? A part of you is certain, beyond any doubt whatsoever, that if it happened you could be such a happy little family.
He smirks slightly and reaches over to brush off a tiny bit of sauce on the edge of your mouth. “So we both know where we stand.” He hums. “Let’s just relax and enjoy where our night takes us.”
******
With the sun set and your meal finished, an intimacy has settled over you and Zach as you sip your coffee together and listen to the busy streets of Knossos bustle with tourists and nightlife. Normally you would be part of that. You would be out with friends or searching out a feeling to get lost in — but today has been so thorough in proving that you can simply get lost in Zach that you don’t want to stray. Everything you could possibly want for your night is right here next to you. And it’s a type of calming feeling that you don’t know you’ve ever felt with another person before.
“That was probably the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” Zach rubs his stomach appreciatively and looks over at you. “Lamb on the menu for the club?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You’ll eat anything he cooks anyway. But having it be a special memory between the two of you? That’s worth bragging about. “With those whipped carrots you made yesterday? Oh my god.”
“You liked those?” He grins, loving feedback as much as the next person and if it comes from you it makes it even sweeter. “I’ve been thinking about making it a soufflé and putting a topping on it. Similar to a sweet potato soufflé? What do you think? Too much?”
“I don’t know,” you admit with a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve never had a soufflé before.”
“You’ve never had a sweet potato casserole?” His eyes widen. “You’re shitting me?”
You shrug weakly, yet can’t help but laugh at how strong his reaction is. “My dad hates sweet potatoes,” you explain between giggles. “We basically ate like toddlers in my house forever, because he only liked four or five foods.”
“Wow.” He chuckles. “So I know what I’m making you tomorrow.” He grins. “Roasted chicken with sweet potato soufflé, creamed spinach and a fresh cranberry compote.”
“We just ate.” Sure, your tone is complaining, but the teasing is clear and sparkling in your eyes. “Why do you have to make me hungry all over again?”
Laughing, he leans over slightly to pull his wallet out to pay. Having cash is something of a safety net to him, although he’s proud of the shiny credit card with a low limit as he builds his credit back up. Offers have started coming for pre-approval of credit limits, but he’s resisted getting one so far. He pays this card off every month like clockwork. “I’ll let you sleep it off first.” He promises.
A different woman comes out with your check and a small folded bag. She smiles when she sees Zach ready to pay, and hands you the bag. “Congratulations,” she explains in a thick but clear accent. “From my grandparents. They’re very flattered you chose their restaurant for your honeymoon.”
Zach immediately feels guilty. “No— nothing is necessary.” He promises, shaking his head. “We are happy to be here. The food was amazing.”
"It's just a few cookies," she promises, apparently charmed by the display of manners. "And we're always glad to have kind guests."
“Everyone here has been wonderful.” Zach smiles as he hands over his card. “Now we just need to find a hotel with people as wonderful.”
"You don't have a place to stay already?" The bill is easily and silently settled with the exchange of a few bills between them and the woman points down the beach to a three-story white building on the edge of the beach. "Dite is a beautiful hotel. Small. But very nice. And you will see the perfect sunrise in your room."
“What do you think, sweetheart?” He asks, turning towards you. “I think it sounds just about perfect, if they have a room available.”
“Small sounds perfect.” In fact, after the bustle of the ship, it sounds like a small relief. “Thank you for the suggestion.”
“I will call for you.” She offers. “Family.”
“That would be wonderful.” You look to Zach for confirmation. “The hotel is my treat. I promise.”
He huffs, frowning slightly at the notion of you paying and there is a grin on the woman’s face as she nods in approval. “I will go call right now and let them know you are coming.” She beams before scampering off.
“It’s okay.” Sensing a bit of hurt pride that you dismiss as typically male, you lean over and kiss Zach’s cheek. “You can buy our breakfast.”
He can’t tell you that it’s because he somehow still looks at someone paying for something – even if it benefits them – as a handout. That is way too deep for this date and probably means he needs to schedule a visit with the VA therapist next time he’s in New York. “Sounds good, sweetheart.” He hums.
It only takes a few minutes for the younger waitress to return, and when she does she is smiling broadly. To Zach she hands a slip with the name and address of the hotel. “They’re getting your room ready now,” she tells you both gladly.
“Thank you.” He smiles. “For everything.”
“Our pleasure.” She assures him, and trots off again after saying good night.
He turns towards you and gives you a searching look. “Are you ready?”
"Absolutely." Considering you can see the hotel from here, you don't mind walking. A stroll through the streets of the ancient city, hand in hand with your newly minted boyfriend? It sounds perfect to you.
Zach scoots out of the seat and holds out his hand to you. “Then let’s walk off this amazing dinner.”
The roads and the beach stretch on longer than you anticipate but the walk is welcome. You're most quiet, enjoying each other's company without the need to fill the air with idle conversation. You take in the city around you and the overwhelming number of tourists. The hustle and the bustle is beautiful, but something about the fact that you can be comfortable in the quiet with Zach brings and unexpected extra layer of intimacy to the night.
Walking hand in hand is intimate, serene. He doesn’t feel the need to make excuses or fill the silence, he just enjoys the way the smiles seem to be just for you as a couple, coming from others who pass you on the streets.
The hotel is clean and bright, and the extended family of the folks who owned the restaurant are as sweet as can be when you check in. They’ve put you in a top floor room facing the ocean and promise you it’s their best, and you and Zach take the stairs up after thanking them once more.
“I feel bad.” Zach muses. “They think we are on our honeymoon.”
“First dates can be just as special as honeymoons, right?” You offer as you make your way down the hall to your room. “I checked their rates online and it was the same as what we paid. So they’re not giving us big discounts or anything. If they had, I would have said something.”
“Good.” He feels better about that and his stomach twists in nervous anticipation. You both had stopped in a little shop where he had purchased a small box of condoms. They feel heavy in his pocket.
“Hey.” The leaden heaviness sits between you as you unlock the door to your room and push it open. Before you even make a move to step inside, you settle your hand on Zach’s arm and offer him a soft, reassuring smile. “Just because we want to doesn’t mean we have to tonight, okay? We can decide to just hang out and cuddle and sleep beside each other and it will still be perfect.”
“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks seriously, trying not to look disappointed, because he doesn’t want that to pressure you.
“Not at all.” You’re quick to assure him of that, pushing open the door and stepping inside. “You just seem…nervous? I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.”
“Afraid of disappointing you.” He admits with a small huff of amusement at himself as he flashes you a grin. “It’s been a while for me.”
"Then I'm flattered you would choose me to be the one to break that dry spell with." It really is a vote of confidence from him, and you won't take that for granted. Despite the fact that you don't understand how in the hell anyone has ever let him go, you're glad to be the person that is here and ready to see all of the potential he has as a partner.
“I would be fucking crazy not to.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Baby you are gorgeous and kind, and everything I don’t deserve.”
"Hey now." You shake your head as you shut the door behind the two of you, flipping the lock and feeling the shiver of anticipation roll through you. But still, hearing him put himself down is the last thing you're comfortable with and when you turn back to Zach you slide your hands up his arms gently. "I wouldn't let somebody else talk about you like that, what makes you think you get to?"
“Habit.” He admits, biting his lip and reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “I’m working on it.”
"I'm here to remind you how incredible you are anytime you need." A strong support system means everything, you learned that the hard way. And you're more than happy to be that for Zach.
“Thanks.” There’s a bit gratefulness and quite a bit of amazement in his eyes as he looks at you. “You are absolutely amazing, you know that?” He asks. “You take my breath away.”
Your hands creep up his arms, sliding around his neck so your fingers can sink into his short, soft hair. "I'd be happy to do that for you literally, if you'd like."
“How would you do that?” He has a pretty good idea, but he wants to hear what you have in mind.
The hum that leaves your lips as you press your body against his is full of promise. "I'd start at the top and work my way down, of course," you tell him, bringing Zach down to meet your lips for a searing kiss.
He can’t help but groan, a grown man melting against you, but he’s already weak in the knees from the passion in just this one kiss. The sense of complete rightness that washes over him as his own arms band around you tighter and he starts to give back to you.
None of the kisses you had shared yet today had been allowed to be this deep. You were in public. You were sharing space with other people. And this is so intensely intimate. It would have felt wrong just to let other people see your naked heart out there on your sleeve. But when it is just the two of you locked safely away in the privacy of a hotel room? You would be a puddle at his feet if it weren’t for the uncanny strength of him holding you tight against his chest.
It’s not hard for his body to respond instantly. He’s already lived most of the day in a state of arousal just being around you. But with the length of your body pressed against his and your tongue coaxing his further into your mouth? He is rock hard and aching. Groaning slightly as he turns both of you towards where the bed should be based on the split second examination of the room earlier.
And just like that you feel ignited. The press of his body against yours as he steers you blindly through around the room is an errant spark that seems to catch on every inch of you. With one hand your fingers card and tug in his hair, nails grazing over his scalp. With the other you pull his shoulders to keep him impossibly close — feeling like you’ll forget to breathe if you stop sharing gasps with him between kisses.
You taste like sweet wine and cream. A perfect combination when mixed with something that is just…you. He can’t describe it, but it’s warm and earthy.
The backs of your legs bump against the bed frame, almost toppling you over and making you hang onto Zach all the more tightly, giggling into the kiss. “Oops,” You can’t help but laugh at how deeply uncoordinated it was, even as out of breath as you are. “Weak knees aren’t very stable, apparently.”
“Then we should lay down.” Zach suggests, grinning against your lips and starting to crouch down.
It doesn’t exactly take convincing. Not when every single time he’s kissed you today has turned you a soaking wet, needy mess. The fact that you finally get to do something about it is exhilarating and relieving all at once. “Hell yes,” you agree, nearly hauling him into the bed with you when you try to kiss him and move at the same time.
He laughs when you both nearly topple over, flopping down on your sides in a move that is not nearly as graceful as he had planned in his mind. “Eager?” He asks. Sliding his hand down your side to your ass.
“Oh, absolutely.” You smirk, but shift your leg ever so slightly so your thigh presses against the front of his shorts. “Just as much as you are.”
“Baby, have you looked in the mirror?” Zach groans, twitching under the pressure. “You’re a complete knockout and fucking sweet as pie.”
“As long as you like what you see, the mirror doesn’t matter.” What you see and what he sees looking at you will never be quite the same, so as long as he likes the version of you that he sees, you’re fine with it.
Zach doesn’t say anything else, he just slowly leans in and presses his lips to yours softly.
It’s such a sweet, gentle gesture that you melt deeper into the mattress. For that one moment there are no thoughts at all left in your head. It’s just Zach and the possibilities.
He follows you, body half covering yours as he lets the kiss deepen slightly. Not too much, but he squeezes your ass gently as he grinds into you.
The roll of his hips earns him a moan, and he swallows it up eagerly so you give him another and hitch one leg up to let him get closer.
He presses deeper into you, slotting his hips between yours as you open up and he gasps into your mouth when his hard cock presses against the heat of your core.
The heat in your belly flares hotter, wicking all the way Down your limbs, and you whimper again because you have no prayer of a coherent sentence or even word in that moment. There’s horny and eager then there’s whatever the hell you are as you grind your hips against his to beg for more.
It’s juvenile, but grinding against you over clothes while he kisses you is the height of eroticism right now. He groans into your mouth before breaking away, wanting to taste every inch of your skin.
He trails kisses along your jaw and throat, making your back arch and stealing your breath all over again. While he begins to travel south you tug at his shirt, trying to tear the damn thing off while your whole body aches for him.
Zach smiles against your skin, cutting his eyes up at you playfully. “You’re too impatient” he teases, pulling away. “Think I’ll blindfold you.”
You pout instantly, but the idea is intriguing enough that you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do I get to see you eventually?”
“Eventually.” He smirks, loving that you are going along with his little idea. “That way you can accurately judge how good I am.”
“I can’t judge your skills with my eyes open?” Delighted to have found him not so very vanilla after all, you let the hand you still have in his hair tug in his curls and grin when he moans.
“You might be overwhelmed by my good looks.” He chuckles and shakes his head. One of the things that made him suggest this is his tattoo. He didn’t want to have a ton of questions about it right now. This wasn’t the time for remembering the past, but enjoying the present.
“Is this a ‘hands off’ situation, too? Or can I at least still touch you?” There are plenty of things you’re willing to try out that you already know you enjoy that people might consider out of the ordinary, but the first time with a new partner you want to feel them in every way.
“You can touch me.” He promises. “I’m just feeling a little shy right now.” He jokes playfully, winking at you. “Don’t want you to get too scared.”
“You have nothing you need to be shy about, but I fully respect having a few hang ups. I’ve got plenty, too.” Reluctantly as you are to take your hands off of him, you reach for your belt instead — or rather, the long sash of fabric that you tied through your belt loops today because you thought it looked a little cuter than a standard belt. “Use this.”
“Are you sure?” He takes the fabric from your hands and holds it up to his eyes playfully.
“I trust you.” You trust him somehow inherently. As though it were as simple as trusting yourself. In a way that sticks in your chest and warms through you like hot cocoa in winter.
He watches you for a moment after pulling the scarf down from his face, “Okay.” He agrees. “I just want this to be something we never forget.”
“I can already guarantee I will never forget any part of today,” you promise him, shivering slightly with anticipation as he settles your former belt gently over your eyes.
He ties it firmly, but not too tight. If you need it off, all you need to do is slip it up your forehead or pull it down. The point of this is to be fun, to explore without judgement and he can’t do that if you are uncomfortable. “Hopefully that’s a good thing and it doesn’t go into your ‘worst dates’ catalog.” He jokes before he slides his hands down to the edge of your shirt to push it up your stomach and drop a kiss right above your belly button.
With every small touch now heightened, your skin tingles with the scrap of his calloused fingers and press of the feather-light kiss. “I don’t fuck on the first date unless it’s a really fucking good date.”
“Me either.” Zach smirks against your skin before he decides to nip your side slightly, laughing quietly when you jump and gasp at the grazing of his teeth. Instead of working down, he decides to work up and nuzzles just under the band of your bra.
One hand blindly makes its way to his shoulder again, grasping the thick cords of muscle there and reminding you just how powerful this broad man is that is being so tender and playful with you. At this point it’s Zach’s game — to explore and to pleasure and to discover — and every point of contact between you is a spark catching fire.
It takes just a second to discover that your bra hooks in the front, to Zach's utter delight, making it easy to unbind your breasts and capture a nipple in his mouth before your shirt is even off or your straps slid down your arms.
The heat and pressure of Zach’s mouth feels boiling even on this warm night, sending you gasping and cursing as you grip his shoulder tighter. If you get any wetter your shorts might outright dissolve, but he would probably consider that a bragging right.
Zach groans against your nipple, loving the little arch to your back, pushing your breast to his mouth more. Offering yourself up.
There is no steady rhythm to any of it as Zach works to take you apart piece by piece. He has a method in his madness, surely, but you are breathless and moaning as he reduces you to a human puddle on the bedsheets. While you can’t see him like this you can definitely feel him, and your hands tug at his shirt again to get that luscious skin-on-skin sensation as he starts to travel down your body.
He takes his time, learning the sensitive spots on your body and enjoying every soft sound he pulls out of your mouth. Until he is dragging your shorts down your legs.
It’s about fucking time says the impatient voice in your head as you squirm in the bed and lift your hips to help him move things along. He’s consented to take his shirt off, at least, so that warmth that rolls off of him in waves can seep directly into your bones. You whimper as the cool breeze of exposure hits your overheated cunt, dripping with need and aching for attention.
“Fuck, you look so pretty right now.” Zach groans at the sight of your wet lips, hair trimmed and manicured. You either were hoping that the night would end this way, or you were very meticulous about your grooming. He’s kind of hoping for the former even though he wouldn’t care if you had done anything. “Baby, you look good enough to eat.”
“Tease.” You whine, trying to sound huffy but only succeeding in strangling another moan when his breath ghosts over your swollen pussy. Even with his hands caressing your thighs, you’re squirming.
It’s been a long goddamn time since Zach has had a pussy in his face, but he loves the musky scent of your wet sex. Making him twitch and groan as he slowly spreads your lips wide for him to drag his tongue up your folds for that first, tantalizing lick.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” With your back arching and your fingers tight in his hair, it’s so easy to lose yourself to one little taste.
He makes a sound of pleasure as he flicks his tongue over your clit and comes back for another pass. This time starting lower and letting his tongue tease your entrance before sliding higher.
If you weren’t blindfolded already you might have cum just from the sight of him. His lips and tongue explore while his hands keep you steady, holding you in place so the buck of your hips doesn’t unseat him before he can really get going.
He absorbs your sound, your taste. The very essence of your being, feasted on as he slowly and thoroughly licks through you like a meal he is savoring.
It’s a stunning combination of thorough exploration and eager enthusiasm that has you writing and moaning his name so quickly. You could have had a date yesterday and everything about tonight would already be better. Zach seems somehow to know exactly what you like without asking, reading your signals perfectly air pushing you higher and higher until his name is the only word on your lips.
Zach is completely entranced by the way you respond to his touch, never having a lover he feels so in-sync with. It’s like he’s touched you a million times before rather than just these last few minutes.
The whole world has stopped existing around you. It's just you and Zach and this bed and every new height of pleasure that he keeps building you to. The press of his hands on your hips, the deep push of his tongue, the sharp half-scrape of his teeth near your clit that he's discovered makes you gasp and moan.
“Cum for me baby.” He pulls away to gasp his plea, the need to see you fall apart about to rupture in his veins and make him go mad. His grip tightening on your hips and he dives back into your cunt with the desperation of a man starved that’s reached his oasis.
You don't have to tell me twice, you would say if you could swim through the thick mire of bliss to tease him. Instead, and much more true to the moment, you let out a sobbing moan and beg for just a little bit more to send you over the edge.
He hears the unspoken plea in your whimpers and opens his mouth wider to just devour you. Burying himself into your pussy where his nose is blocked by your mound as he pushes you over the edge and if he died in this moment, he would die blissfully happy.
Your back arches fiercely one more time, lifting your shoulders off the bed as you hit that sharp crest that explodes into your climax. All of your muscles tense and curses spill freely, interspersed with his name and moans entirely without words – until that crest becomes altogether too much, the thread mercifully snaps, and you fall back on the mattress an utterly satisfied puddle.
Zach is slow to pull his mouth away. Savoring the little tremors that race through your thighs and makes your pussy clench against his chin as he laps at your juices one last time before he lifts his head with a groan of satisfaction. “And just think, we’ve only started.” He hums playfully, knowing that the night has just begun.
------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer
ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Zach Wellison#Zach Wellison x female reader#Zach Wellison x you#Zach Wellison x f!reader#Brothers & Sisters#Shane Dio Morrissey#Shane Dio Morrissey x female OC#NYPD Blue#soulmate au#Soulmate Sunday#cruise ship au#first date
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Ooh very interesting, thank you! I did wonder what was going through particularly Charles' head in his Hell mirror scene, and Jayden's answer is so sweet!
Transcript under the read more...
George: Hi Nat! It's George and Jayden here, for the Dead Boy Detectives. Thank you so much for supporting these cameos. Sadly, we're coming to the end of them now, um, but we've had a really, really lovely time loving the show with all of you, so thank you for your part of that. I'm gonna jump straight in. Now, you have said you're "always intrigued by Charles and Edwin's reactions to seeing their reflections in Hell." What would we say went through their heads at that moment?
Jayden: I can say for me, I remember, obviously, embodying Charles in that moment, I remember just having in my head that, you know, there was obviously a task at hand, he was in Hell to save his best friend, and I think that was a moment of looking at himself being like, "okay, d'you know what, you're not like your dad, you are a hero, and... let's just go and save your best mate."
George: That's lovely, that is. And, actually, off the back of that, I was on set with Jayden when he played that moment, and it was so powerful because, you know, there was something really, um... really profound and ironic about these boys who've travelled through mirrors every day, but because they're human mirrors, they're mirrors on the mortal plane, they can't see their reflections. Um, whereas in Hell, they're magic mirrors, which meant that they could see their reflections.
Jayden: And they couldn't hop through them.
George: And they couldn't hop through them!
Jayden: As you can see I... Charles tried to.
George: Yeah exactly, so the bit where Edwin sees his reflection...
Jayden: Unless you're going to... a different realm.
George: True.
Jayden: You get dragged in.
George: The bit where Edwin...
Jayden: Yeet!
[George laughs]
George: ...could see his reflection, um, was actually not in the script. I just played that moment, 'cause I thought there was something interesting to it, and then Steve, our showrunner, just hopped in, he was like [whispers] "Can you say 'my reflection'? Just to help make it really clear what's going on." Um...
Jayden: "How do you think Edwin was affected by being a teenager in World War One and knowing he might have to take part in it?"
[George gasps]
George: Great question.
Jayden: Have you ever been asked that before?
George: I don't think I have. I've spoken a bit about World War One. I mean, St Hilarion's is a school for the sons of military personnel, so I think the idea of discipline and the sort of vocabulary and the lifestyle around uh milit... everything to do with the military would have kind of been ingrained in him. So I think he kind of wouldn't have expected much else, in a way, I think it would have been to be expected. But there would have been a lot of fear, and I'm sure that fear would have contributed to the joy and escapism he found in those detective comics.
Jayden: You've said here that the show has touched you very deeply, and it has inspired you to reach out to people again, which you hadn't done in a long time.
George: Wow.
Jayden: Well, we are so, so glad to hear that. I think that is, that is what the show is all about, you know, reaching out to people in times of need, and, you know, creating new friendships, new bonds, and we really hope that that continues for you. And if you ever feel as though, you know, it's kind of doing this... [gestures in a downward trajectory] you have a lovely show back here, and two lovely dead boys here that support you and are proud of you every day, so thank you so much, Nat, take care.
George: Bye Nat!
So I wasn't sure if I was going to share my cameo because it's a little bit more personal towards the end, but I decided I rather wanted to share the video than just transcribe their answers to my questions.
I asked them about their thoughts on Charles and Edwin seeing their reflections in episode 7 and about Edwin's experience as a teenager during WWI.
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CHAPTER 5
Harlow
I DON’T HEAR anything else he says. I abruptly rise from my chair, practically tipping it over, and get the fuck out of that cafe as fast as I possibly can.
By the time I reach the patio, my chest is so tight, that I can hardly pull in a lungful of air. I feel like I can’t breathe, like I’m going to pass out, and my heart is beating so fast, I can feel it pulsing in my throat.
Fuck.
I know exactly what this is. It’s a panic attack–one of several dozen I’ve had in the last few months. But regardless of how often it happens, each time is just as scary as the last. It never gets easier or less terrifying.
I feel a hand on my arm. “Harlow , are you okay?” Noah. Of course.
I shake my head and struggle to take in big gulps of air. It’s not working. “Breathe, Little Rabbit. In slowly, then out.”
His voice is oddly soothing, but the fact that he thinks he can talk me out of the panic attack that he created is infuriating. I swallow and jerk my
arm out of his grip. “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”
It takes everything in me to get those two sentences out, but I manage it. “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re obviously having a panic
attack,” he says.
Everyone is still staring at us–even more so now–and that just adds to my anxiety. I need to get out of here. Somewhere safe, quiet. I have a class in a few minutes, but I’m not sure I’ll make it. I have no choice, though. I’m here on a scholarship, which means I can’t afford to be bumped from any of my classes—and the first week is crucial. Each class is only allowed a certain number of students, and if I’m not there to claim my seat, it’ll be taken by someone else.
I force my spine to straighten, and I suck in a deep, strengthening breath. My heart still feels like a jackrabbit thumping against my ribs, but I do my best to ignore it.
“My next class starts in a few minutes. I have to go.” And with that, I turn toward the social science building without waiting for Noah to respond.
Damn. Day two and I’ve already been nearly assaulted, claimed by the campus king, and had a panic attack. I’m starting to think this school has too much drama for me.
But it’s the only school that offered me a full ride, so I guess I’m stuck here.
I book it to the social sciences building and find a seat in my next class. Once I’m settled in the corner, away from everyone else, my heart rate starts going back to normal. Thank God.
I pull my phone out to text Talia .
Just had a full-on panic attack in front of everyone at the cafe.
She texts me back immediately.
You ok?
I type out my response.
Yeah, better now. We were invited to a sorority party tonight. Come with me?
Considering my anxiety level, I probably shouldn’t be going to a party tonight, but I know it’ll cheer Talia up. Besides, with a couple of drinks in my system, I’ll be fine.
My phone pings. It’s Talia .
Sure. Sounds good. I have to meet someone after class, but I’ll text you later.
I shove my phone into my backpack and try to focus on the professor, who is introducing himself, and for the rest of class, I’m just kind of there. Present, but not really paying attention. All I can think about is Noah. Why am I so transfixed by him? He’s such an asshole, and not only that, he’s surrounded by other assholes. I don’t need that in my life.
The queen of bad decisions. That’s me. I should have told Noah to fuck-off last night. Well, I guess I did, but I didn’t follow it up with the vitriol he deserves—and that’s on me.
At some point, Skye texts me with the information for the party, and I forward it to Talia . One of my classes runs kinda late, so rather than have her wait on me, I suggest meeting her at the party.
It’s dark when my last class lets out. About thirty of us pour out of the social sciences building, dispersing in multiple directions.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
A familiar baritone cuts through the crisp evening air, and I shudder. Not from cold, but from awareness spiking in my veins. Noah Sabastian was waiting for me outside the building. This is the third time being accosted by him today.
I keep walking. “Oh, look. It’s you. How do you have so much time to follow me around? Don’t you have your own classes?”
“My building is next to yours,” he replies, keeping step with me.
The physics building. Hm. Maybe the guy is more intelligent than I give him credit for. Or maybe he’s buying his grades, which somehow seems more likely.
“Didn’t we kinda say everything we needed to say this afternoon?” I huff. “Why are you here?”
“It’s dark. We don’t want a repeat of last night, do we?”
I stop and turn toward him abruptly. “Didn’t you say you took care of that? I mean, the guy is in the hospital, right? Sounds like he’s going to be laid up for a while. ”
“You’re dating one of the Sacred Sons, Harlow . He’s not the only one who’ll come after you.”
“First, and foremost, we’re not dating. So let’s get that clear. Second, why would anyone come after me? Why? I’ve been here less than a week. The only questionable thing I’ve done was attend your stupid ceremony.”
And, seriously, I’m looking for less drama in my life, not more
Noah shoves his hands into his pockets and narrows his eyes at me. “Listen, Harlow , I know this campus. I know the people here. Anyone connected with the Sacred Sons will draw attention.”
I start walking again, and he follows. I’m walking toward my residence hall, which thankfully isn’t very far. “If you run this place–like you claim you do—then can’t you just tell people to leave me alone?”
“It’s not that simple.” His voice is tight. “The only way people will leave you alone is if they see us together. If they know you’re under my protection.”
Jezus. “This is beginning to feel like some weird mafia situation.”
We reach my building, and I open the side door. When he amoves to follow me, I turn on my heel and put my hand out, stopping him, “I’m good, thanks. I don’t think anyone is going to accost me in the time it takes to get to my room.”
Just as I turn back to walk through the door, he grabs my wrist. “Are you going to the party tonight?”
If I say yes, I know he’s going to insist on coming, too. Or at the very least, walk me there.
“It’s been a crazy couple of days, and I’m exhausted. I think I might just go to bed early,” I lie
He nods once and releases me. “Text me if you go out.”
Not a chance .
“Sure, whatever.”
When I get upstairs, I stop by Talia 's room and knock. No answer. Her roommate isn’t even around. Not that I expected Talia to be there. She
probably headed over to the party a while ago. She’d never responded to my last text, but she can be a little scattered, and sometimes she forgets to reply.
Emily is on her bed when I enter. Her side of the room is so much cuter than mine. A couple of days ago, both her parents came to help her move in. Her mom, especially, had fussed over her—helping her set up her desk, and arrange the pictures on her wall. Her dad had set her computer up and made sure she was connected to the wifi, and all that.
I’d watched it all with envy.
No one had ever taken care of me like that. Never. Everything I do, I do alone. I’m an only child, and I’ve lived with my grandmother since I was eleven. And my grandmother loves me, but she’s tired and has a lot of health issues. My dad is nearly nonexistent, and my mom doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself. So yeah, she’s not coming here to take me shopping and make my side of the room cute. I doubt she even knows I’m here.
“Hey,” I say as I walk in, tossing my backpack onto my bed. “I’m headed over to a sorority party. You wanna join?”
Emily glances up from her laptop. “Um, I mean, I need to get some reading done for class…”
I open my dresser drawer and pull out a pair of jeans and a tank top. We have a shared bathroom down the hall that I could use to change, but going all the way down there is so annoying, so I decide to just dress here. As soon as I shuck the pants I’m wearing, Emily averts her gaze. I tug my jeans on and replace my baby-T with a plain white tank top.
I’m refreshing my makeup when I make my last-ditch effort to convince Emily to join me. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? It might be fun.”
Honestly, I don’t even really want to go myself, but Talia is probably already there, and I really don’t want to walk over alone. Not after what happened last night.
“We could always leave a little early, so you can get your reading done,” I add.
She hesitates for a second, then closes her laptop and sets it aside. “Okay. Maybe just for a little while.”
We’re both ready in about five minutes, and we start heading over to the sorority. It’s only a block away, so it takes us about three minutes to get over there.
The place is a fucking mad house.
The house is beautiful, two stories, and right on the beach. Inside is chaos, though, and as soon as we get there, I text Talia .
I’m here. Where are you?
She doesn’t text back right away, so I leave Emily out on the back patio with a couple of her friends and go in search of Talia .
This place is packed to the gills with hot guys, though, I’ll say that. These guys definitely weren’t at the Burning Crown ceremony last night— which is a point in their favor. The guys here have that chill, beach boy look, which is right up my alley.
Inside, bodies are crushed together, undulating to the rhythm of the music, which is blaring over the din of laughter. As I look for Talia , I grab a drink—a solo cup half filled with cinnamon-flavored whiskey. It tastes like a Red Hots candy and goes down really easy.
I’m three sips in, and already feeling relaxed as I hunt for Talia . But she’s not here. In the span of ten minutes, I’ve looked in every closet and dark corner. I glance at my phone for the millionth time, and there’s still no response from her. Where is she?
I try not to panic, though. She’ll be here. Maybe she met a new friend and she’s just running late, caught up in some random drama. Who fucking knows with her. She’s always been the life of the party, and pretty impulsive. I wouldn’t put it past her to tag along with a group of girls she’d just met.
I don’t see my new friend, Skye, either, so I’m standing alone, just finishing my first drink, when someone sidles up beside me. At first, I don’t even notice. But after a few seconds, I hear a male baritone address me.
“Hey,” he says. “Didn’t I see you at Rush House last night?”
I glance over to see a cute guy with wavy brown hair, dark eyes, and a sweet, wholesome smile. He’s wearing a blue polo and looks like he just stepped off a golf course. I nearly do a double-take, because he looks so out of place here.
“Hi,” I say with a smile, raising my voice so I can be heard over the music. “Yeah, my friend, Talia and I were invited. Are you a member?”
“I’m not supposed to say,” he says with a smile. “I’m Nathan Hearst.”
I nod awkwardly. “Harlow .”
He looks confused and leans in closer to me. His clean, eucalyptus scent envelops me. “I’m sorry, say that again?”
I inch closer to him. “It’s unusual, I know. My mom is weird.” I laugh a little to cut the awkwardness. “It’s Harlow . L-U-X.”
“Oh, Harlow .” His head bobs. “That’s a really cool name.”
“Thanks,” I answer, draining the last of my cinnamon-flavored whiskey. He notices my empty solo cup. “Can I grab you another drink?”
“Oh, thanks. I was drinking the whiskey.” I hand him my cup, and he leaves to refill it. He’s back in under a minute, handing me a fresh cup. I nod, and thank him again, taking a sip.
“You look like you’re searching for someone,” he says, watching the girls in the middle of the room as they twerk against each other.
“Uh, yeah, I’m supposed to meet my friend here. She’s probably on her way,” I say, glancing at my phone. Still no message from her.
“So what are you studying?” he asks.
I tell him what my major is, and we make small talk for a bit—all the while, I’m watching the front door, waiting for Talia to walk through it.
It’s so nice to have a normal conversation with a cute guy, though. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like. All the guys I’ve been involved with over the last couple of years have been both hot as fuck and crazy like a devil—Noah Sabastian included.
This guy is just…normal. And the longer we talk about nothing, the more comfortable I feel. Maybe my luck in guys is actually changing.
Nathan and I are just chatting about nothing when everyone in the house
—and I mean, the entire house—erupts into a roar of excitement. Everyone stomps their feet in a rhythm they all seem to know by heart .
What the…?
Nathan glances at me, and I get the sense he’s trying to gauge my reaction–which, honestly, is just confusion. “Now the party has officially started,” he explains. “The Sons have just arrived.”
#bad omens#noah sebastian#noah sebastian smut#jolly karlsson#nick ruffilo#bad omens smut#nick folio#nick folio smut#noah x reader
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Bun in the Oven
Rated M
Chapter 1/4
2160 words
chapter One of the trans!Tommy mpreg episode 8X07 rewrite I posted a snippet of on Wednesday.
Read on Ao3 or below the cut
There was a knock on the door.
Buck frowned. It was a bit early for it to be Maddie and Chimney but maybe they’d lucked out with the traffic situation. He wiped his hands on his apron, stepped away from the stand mixer, and answered the door.
It wasn’t Maddie and Chimney.
Instead, Tommy’s broad frame filled his doorway.
Buck’s breath caught in his throat. “Tommy, hi,” he said. “I was just thinking about you.” It was true. Buck hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Tommy since he’d overcorrected after the whole Abby reveal and asked Tommy to move in only for Tommy to break up with him because of some bullshit about Buck breaking Tommy’s heart in the future. So, Buck had done the only logical thing: purchased a stand mixer and filled his fridge with baked goods.
Honestly, Buck wasn’t sure if he was more angry or sad about the whole situation, but he did know that his stomach still swooped at the sight of Tommy standing in his door and it took every bit of self-control not to lean in to give Tommy a kiss hello. Not to wrap his arms around Tommy and pull him inside and never let him go.
“Sorry, I should’ve called before just showing up,” said Tommy. “But I think I left one of my chargers here and I can’t find my other one. So, dead phone.” Tommy sounded on the verge of tears which seemed strange when he could’ve just gone out and bought a new charger rather than checking to see if he’d left one at Buck’s. But maybe it wasn’t about the charger, maybe Tommy just wanted an excuse to see Buck.
Or was Buck letting himself get his hopes up for no reason?
“I uh, haven’t seen it. But are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.” He wanted to reach out and touch Tommy, to offer some sort of comfort, but that wasn’t his place anymore. Tommy had taken that away.
Tommy shook his head. “Mood swings,” he says.
“Yeah, well break ups will do that I guess,” said Buck.
“That and I think I’m still adjusting to my new birth control,” said Tommy. About a month before the break-up Tommy’s primary care physician had suddenly retired and Buck had helped Tommy scramble to find another in-network provider who understood the healthcare needs of trans men. It had been such a headache and then once they’d found a doctor he’d wanted to adjust Tommy’s dosages and change Tommy’s birth control method from an oral contraceptive to an implant in the hopes that it would lessen the daily dose of dysphoria Tommy got when taking the pill.
“Listen, Buck—” Tommy started.
Buck flinched. God, it sounded so wrong hearing his nickname coming out of Tommy’s lips. It made him want to scream. But he was trying to be mature about this. Trying to be civil. Trying not to cling since that was clearly what Tommy wanted, and Buck could respect that even if he hated it. “I found some of your shirts in the laundry,” Buck said before Tommy could say anything else that was probably going to break Buck’s heart again. “I was going to text you.” Which was maybe a lie, because sure Buck had thought about texting Tommy, but never about the shirts.
He'd composed texts with everything he’d wished he’d said to Tommy instead of letting him walk out the door that night.
Texts that devolved into spiteful rants.
<em>Miss you</em> texts.
<em>u up?</em> texts.
All deleted and transmuted into baked goods: cakes, cookies, scones, loafs, Baked Alaska.
It seemed Tommy wanted to look anywhere but directly at Buck, which was just another thing Buck had lost. Buck blinked against threatening tears as Tommy glanced around Buck’s loft, eyes taking in the subtle changes that had taken place since they’d broken up, until his gaze settled on the mess that was Buck’s kitchen island. “You’ve been baking.”
Sure, Buck had baked with Chris before to help out with a school bake sale since Eddie was so culinarily clueless, but he hadn’t really done it in his own time until he’d found out about Tommy’s sweet tooth. He’d been practicing to make something for Tommy’s birthday but then Tommy had to go and dump him. Bitterness spiked through him. “Yeah. Anytime I get the urge to call you, I just I channel the impulse into something positive, like Baked Alaska.”
Tommy’s face twisted with regret, eyes growing glassy. Buck wasn’t sure if that had been his intention or not, but maybe it would be good for Tommy to really see how much Buck had been thinking about him. So, Buck walked over to the fridge and pulled out three loaves, making sure the fridge door was opened wide enough for Tommy to see the extent of Buck’s foray into baking and how often he’d been thinking about reaching out. “Here, you should take some.” He plopped three loaves into Tommy’s unprotesting arms. “Here’s a lemon loaf, and a walnut loaf, and a pumpkin loaf.”
“That’s a lotta loaf,” Tommy managed to say. “Buck, I—”
“Hang on, let me go grab those shirts,” said Buck because hearing Tommy call him by his nickname rather than his name made him want to scream and he didn’t want to do that, not when Tommy looked like anything could cue the waterworks at any moment. So, Buck might have fled his kitchen, jogging upstairs to grab the reusable tote bag of Tommy’s tee shirts and flannels he’d accumulated over their six months together. That bag had been haunting him every night as he lay in bed – alone – trying to fall asleep, wondering if Tommy was also alone or if he’d already managed to find a rebound.
Buck hefted the bag and his heart panged. Once he gave this stuff back, Tommy would well and truly be gone from his life. There’d be no excuse for Buck to reach out. No trace that Tommy had ever been in his life save for the indelible mark he’d left on Buck’s heart. So, Buck did something maybe a little impulsive and indulgent; he snagged one of Tommy’s flannels out of the bag and shoved it under his pillow.
He was absolutely not going to bury his face in it and cry himself to sleep later.
As he was engaging in some of the most pathetic breakup behaviour ever, his kitchen timer went off downstairs.
“Buck, do you need me to do something?” Tommy shouted up the stairs, voice carrying over the shrill timer beep.
“Yeah, could you just grab the baked brie out of the oven?” he asked. He snagged his favourite Tommy t-shirt out of the bag and stashed it with the stolen flannel too. If Tommy was allowed to unceremoniously dump Buck, then Buck was allowed to steal his clothes and not return them.
Buck gave a satisfied nod and started down the stairs to join Tommy. He was halfway down when he heard Tommy gag. Buck looked up from his feet in time to see Tommy turn literally green before unceremoniously dumping Buck’s baked brie on the counter, bee-lining for the sink and vomiting down the drain.
Buck raced down the stairs, rushing to Tommy’s side and rubbing smoothing circles on his back before he even realised what he was doing. “Are you okay?”
“Are you sure that cheese is okay?” Tommy asked catching his breath. “It reeks.”
Buck frowned as he got down a glass and filled it with tap water for Tommy to rinse out his mouth. “Uh yeah,” he said. “And brie’s not a stinky cheese.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Tommy sagged, leaning against Buck’s counter. “But my sense of smell’s been really weird the last few weeks.”
A sinking feeling filled Buck’s stomach. This all sounded very familiar.
They’d always been so good about using protection and between birth control and testosterone Tommy hadn’t had a period in well over a decade. But there’d been that little lapse before Tommy had found his new doctor and oh, God they’d definitely had unprotected sex that one time when they were both a little tipsy after getting back from babysitting Eddie. “You’re pregnant,” Buck blurted before his brain could send his tongue anything more tactful to say.
Tommy turned white as a sheet, eyes going wide. “I can’t be,” he said. “We were always so careful—” he trailed off and from the way his eyebrows shot up into his hairline Buck bet that Tommy had just connected the same dots he had. “Shit. You might be right.” His hand went to the back of his neck in a self-comforting gesture and Buck recognised all the signs of Tommy starting to spiral that he’d steamrolled over the night Tommy had ended things.
The last thing he wanted was for Tommy to leave right now. And that was probably the last thing Tommy needed right now. “Okay,” said Buck. He put his hands on Tommy’s upper arms and gently guided him to one of the bar stools. “Sit. Breathe. I need to make a phone call and then we’re going to talk. Okay?”
Tommy nodded, gulping down an unsteady breath.
Buck fished his phone out of his apron pocket and dialled Maddie. “Hey Mads, you and Chimney haven’t left yet, have you?”
“No, the sitter’s running late,” said Maddie. “Why?”
“I’m gonna need to take a rain check,” he said. “Tommy’s here.”
“Oh!” said Maddie. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I don’t know yet,” said Buck.
“Well, let me know when you do,” said Maddie. “And take care of yourself.”
“Thanks, Mads,” Buck hung up and turned back to Tommy.
As soon as Buck’s eyes landed on his ex-boyfriend Tommy bolted up off the stool. “I should go,” he said. “You had plans and I should go.”
Buck took advantage of the fact that his legs were longer than Tommy’s and intercepted him before he reached the door.
“Buck move,” said Tommy. “I need to leave.”
“Nope,” said Buck. “I’m not going to let you walk away from me again. Not until I’ve said what I need to say, and we make a plan to move forward.”
“There is no moving forward,” said Tommy. “There is no “we” anymore. We broke up.”
“No, <em>you</em> broke up with me and left,” said Buck. “You didn’t let me say anything. You just decided on your own that there was no way I’d want you around in the future and then you left. Also, if you’re pregnant, I want to be there for you no matter what you decide to do, even if it’s just as a friend.” Because even though Buck so desperately wanted more, now wasn’t the time to say as much.
“It’s probably just a stomach bug,” said Tommy.
“If you really believed that you wouldn’t be running away,” said Buck.
Tommy flinched and Buck hated himself a little, but he needed to say everything that had been circling through his head in the time since Tommy had broken things off. “I don’t know what happened that made you think you could never be my last,” said Buck, speaking carefully so he wouldn’t say something he’d regret. “I know nothing I say right now is gonna convince you of the truth because now there’s maybe a baby involved and that complicates things, but I really wanted you to be my last Tommy. I still do. And this isn’t me asking you to change your mind about breaking up, but maybe it’s me asking you to trust that I actually know what I want. And what I want is to be there for you no matter what’s going on, in whatever way you’ll let me. Please let me.”
Tommy sighed and he looked at Buck so tenderly, despite the dark circles under his eyes that Buck had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from reaching out and cupping Tommy’s face in his hands to try to rub some of that fear and exhaustion away. “Okay,” said Tommy. He backed away from the door, returning to the bar stool at Buck’s kitchen island.
“I guess we should probably see if you really are pregnant,” said Buck, relief flooding through him.
“Probably,” said Tommy.
“I can run to the drug store and grab a few tests,” said Buck. “But you have to promise not to go anywhere.” He fixed Tommy with a meaningful look until Tommy met his gaze and nodded. Buck took his apron off and grabbed his wallet and keys.
“You promise?” Buck asked.
“Yeah, Evan, I promise,” Tommy snapped.
Buck grinned.
“What?” Tommy asked.
“You called me Evan,” said Buck and Tommy probably hadn’t meant anything by it. It was clearly a slip up, but it soothed something within Buck to hear Tommy call him that.
Tagging those who asked and those who seemed interested:
@silversky9 @unhingedangstaddict @ironspiderdad12 @beanarie @sporadicmakerwerewolf @azaharinflames @aisatsana441 @bugboybuck
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan#tommy kinard#evan buck buckely#mpreg#trans tommy kinard#pregnant tommy kinard#8x07 rewrite
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I have another request but i dont wanna be the weird bitch who keeps asking for imagines lmao 😫😫😫😫 but like if you ever feel like it and you don't need to write it right now or anything BUT IF YOU WANT TO could you do a slash(him rn, oldie) imagine when y/n is friends with london and his relationship isnt going well so Y/N is like his young side bitch LMAO 👉👈😮💨 so whenever he fights with his wife he comes to you and like you cook for him and you watch movies etc and y/n makes him feel young and whatever else and HOT!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT THIS MAN NAKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I really love your writing btw 🫶
it’s okay request as much as you want 😋
(Omg this photo from when he was in velvet revolver🙂↔️)
WARNING ‼️ (smut, fingering, pet names, overstimulation, age gap,) I think that’s all🥲
𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴 𝙸𝚂𝙽𝚃 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙱𝙰𝙳
I’ve been friends with this guy named London, he used to go to my high school until we graduated, and we stayed in touch, and guess fucking what, this motherfuckers dad was slash.
Yes the slash.
The fucking guitar player for Guns ‘N’ Roses, my favorite band of all time, I grew up on them, my dad basically raised me on them, and I even started playing guitar because of slash, and now I knew the fucker?
Did I tell London this? No fucking way, he would never let me over, it had to be obvious though, every time I go over there, I’m like a horny spaze over his father, and best believe when I graduated, I lived there basically, did slash have a wife. Yes.
That’s didn’t fucking stop me.
I would always be around him, like a lost puppy, London didn’t notice as much, but slash had too. It was pathetic, wearing subjective clothing, and showing off my breasts since I knew he had a thing for them, it’s not like I haven’t seen his instagram.
But it didn’t seem wrong, we were close, did his wife hate me? Fucking probably, but I honestly didn’t care, she was a bitch to him, and I know I could treat him better.
All I wanted was to be with that man, he was everything I ever wanted, he was a huge horror movie fan, loved music, fucking played the music I loved, and we loved a lot of the same topics, and when I would sleepover, I would go downstairs, knowing slash was a night owl, we would just sit on his couch and talk for hours.
Recently something has been off, London didn’t want to tell me, but I could tell slash and meegan were having problems, I heard them arguing earlier in the day, I tried to talk to him, but he pushed me away, he didn’t want to talk to anyone, it honestly made me upset.
All I wanted was to hold him and play with his hair and tell him how great he is, how he doesn’t deserve her, how I could be better. I can be better. I would be better.
And tonight was like any other night, I was sleeping over at Londons house, I was sitting in his room, bored as all hell, he was out, snoring and everything, so I made my way downstairs, originally wanting to get water, but kinda wishing slash was down there. Maybe I could talk to him about everything.
I tried to be quiet walking down the stairs, they were always so damn creaky.
As I made my way down to the stairs, I heard panting almost? I was confused, as I got to the bottom step, I saw the back of slash head, only his silhouette, since the TV was on, it lit him up.
But his head was throw back, and I realized he was the one that was panting, I got closer to only see him jerking himself off, my legs almost gave up on themselves.
My heat pooled, felt like it was going down my legs, I put my hand over my mouth, trying not to make a sound, but I had a wave of confidence go threw my body, and I walked right up to him, standing in front of him.
Trying not to cringe at myself, I hated being confident, but around him, I felt like I could.
“Oh shit, fuck, sorry.” Slash looked up in worry, covering himself, getting the blanket next to him, I started nodding my head “no” right away.
“No, no, no it’s okay, let me help.” I whispered the last part, sitting down next to him, he raised an eyebrow, I tried to put my head in his thigh and I wanted to rub it up to his member, but he stopped my hand with his.
His eyes went big, I could see his member through the blanket, my pussy was throbbing at this point, “y/n… come on, you know we can’t.” He had a smile on his face, it almost like he wanted too, but he knew he couldn’t.
I smiled at him back, there was so much sexual tension, it wasn’t even funny, are hands were still on top of each others, “slash, let me make you feel good.” I whined to him, squeezing his hand slightly, he looked around, then grabbed my waist, putting me in his lap, grabbing my face, and slamming his lips onto mine.
I felt euphoric. I felt like I was on cloud 9, I have always wanted this moment, for fucking years. Feeling his shaft under me, was… I couldn’t even explain.
His hands traveled to my ass, his hands were soft, yet rough, he massaged my ass softly, kissing down my neck, I couldn’t help myself from grinding on him, I saw his eyebrow go up, “you’re one eager little girl, aren’t ya?” He spoke in a soft deep tone.
“I can’t help it, I mean, look where we are.” I giggled, putting my hands around his neck, titling my head, looking into his eyes, before grinding one more time, it was so fucking amazing, I felt him. Since he only had the blanket under him.
“Can you be quiet?” He grinned, kissing my lips once more, slinging his hand that was previously on my ass to the front of my stomach, I looked down as he started to play with the hem of my shorts.
I nodded my head, biting my lips barely, all I needed was him. I needed something. Anything.
He smiled, pulling down my shorts, I lifted up, leaving them on the ground, leaving my only in my Lacey black thongs, his finger tips went down to my clit, playing with it so softly.
My lips parted at his action, my eyes had a glaze over them, he licked his lips, loving how he had me, only after a few touch’s. “Just stay quiet doll.” He smiled, laying a kiss my exposed neck.
I gave a small whimper in response, he brought his full fingers to my clit, rubbing it roughly now, his other hand was behind my neck now, making me look at him.
“Does this feel good honey?” He was so soft, so gentle. I loved every moment. “Yes, yes, it really does.” I whined, as he slide his fingers down to my entrance, teasing it softly, before slipping his middle finger into me.
Pumping it in and out, making me moan quietly, I gasped when he pushed his second digit into me. “Stay quiet, you don’t wanna get in trouble? Don’t ya? We wouldn’t want that now.” He smirked, bringing my head to the crook of his neck.
After he said those words, I was invested, I needed to know what “trouble” was, whatever it was or is, I needed it. Now.
Soooo I started moaning louder, louder than I should’ve, even though I was in his neck, it was definitely still audible, he pulled me by my hair to make me look at him.
“I told you to be quiet, now shut the fuck up.” He gritted through his teeth, I didn’t even notice that he took off the blanket, pulling his fingers out of me, whining at the lost of him, and then he just slammed into me, giving me now warning, and his thrusts were fast and hard.
He wasn’t stopping anytime soon.
My eyes shoot open, mouth parted wider, and I brought myself closer to him. He grabbed my ass, pounding into me, his hand that was on my hair, is now on my mouth, forcing me to be quiet.
Fuck this is going to be a long night.
𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚁
“FUCK SLASH, NO MORE, IM SO FUCKING SENSITIVE!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, we were in his bedroom now, he had me bent over his bed, still pounding into me, I already cummed four times…
I know.
I felt a hand slap my ass, and I went to look back, his head was fully back, his thrusts got sloppy, I knew he was close, finally.
He grabbed my hips, using me, not caring what I said, it’s not like it didn’t feel good. It was so much at once.
I loved every moment.
“S-SHIT FUCK.” His voice got higher, shooting his seed into me, coating my walls, my legs trembling, I felt his body weight in my back, after he came he just laid on top of me for a good minute. I giggled softly, at this action, he rolled over next to me, looking to the side at me.
“Well, that was…. Um, unexpected.” He chuckled, moving his hair off his sweaty forehead, grabbing my waist, bringing me closer to his sweaty torso. “ I’ve always wanted to do that.” I mumbled under my breath, he scooted up the bed, laying in the middle of the bed with me in his big muscular arms, his hair tickling my shoulder.
“I know, I know.” He laughed, kissing my cheek, before getting off the bed. “Where ya going?” I looked up, he smiled at me, “I’m fucking showering, I have too many body fluids on me.” I laughed at his joke, realizing he was right.
fuck that was a night.
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶
after a good night sleep in slash’s arms, his shampoo filling my nostrils, having clean clothes on both of our body’s, I was worried his wife was going to walk in on us, but thank fuck she wasn’t coming home anytime soon, she went on a business trip or whatever slash said, I kinda zoned out.
While he was still sleeping like a baby, I decided to be the wife he should have, making him a hearty warm breakfast, when I started cooking the bacon, he immediately got up, walking to the kitchen.
“Are you cooking?” Slash said in a sleepy tone, leaning against the counter, tilting his head, with a big smile on his face, I nodded my head, not looking away from the pan, scared I was going to get burned.
I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist, and a kiss on my neck, “you doing this for me doll?” He spoke in a whisper tone, my heart felt so warm at his touch.
“I wanted to show you, I could be a better wife.” I heard a deep chuckle from him, making my panties getting wet all over again, even though my body was covered with bruises, hickeys, marks, anything imaginable.
“You proved that last night doll.”
(Sorry it took so long)
#gnr fanfiction#slash fanfiction#fanfic#music#80s#guns and roses#slash gnr#actually mentally ill#girlblogging#love music#being in love#slash’s snakepit#slash smut#slash#slash serpentine🐍#slash guns n roses#gnr#gnr x reader#gnr smut#gunners#gunsnroses#guns n' roses#guns n roses
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Under Oath
Chapter 1: I Give You Mercy, Not Forgiveness
Paige x oc black!lawyer warnings: none I think
The fresh, cool air of UConn hit my senses as I stepped out of the car. If I’m being honest, I didn’t want to be here. But for the sake of being a good friend, here I am. I pulled into the guest parking spots in the lot, the last place I wanted to be today. I grabbed my phone and called KK to let her know I’d arrived.
I didn’t tell her about the dark part of this place, though. I never went to school here—never had the chance to. And even if I had, it wasn’t my story to tell. So, I decided to keep it quiet. Besides, KK loved this place. Who was I to tarnish that?
I adjusted my tan two-piece suit, the dark brown jacket hanging off my shoulders. If I was going to do the lawyer thing, I might as well do it in style. I stepped out of the car and headed toward the campus buildings, the weight of the job starting to settle on me. But something told me that whatever I thought I was walking into was only the beginning.
I walked through the familiar gates of UConn, trying to remind myself I was here for KK, not for anything else. She had reached out to me in a panic, telling me about a contract breach she and her team had gotten tangled up in. She didn’t mention who was involved, and I didn’t press her. Honestly, I didn’t care who was on the other side. My loyalty was to her.
But as I approached the gym, I felt a strange, sinking sensation in my chest. I couldn’t quite place it, but something in my gut told me I was about to walk into something bigger than a simple contract dispute.
KK was waiting by the court’s entrance, smiling brightly as she waved me over.
“Thank you for coming, Caty!” she said as I reached her, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. Her excitement was infectious, and I couldn’t help but give her a small smile in return.
“I’m here. Let’s handle this,” I said, trying to sound confident, though I could feel the nerves beginning to bubble up.
KK led me inside, and my eyes instinctively scanned the room, not sure what to expect. Then, as if everything shifted in slow motion, I saw her.
Paige Bueckers.
She stood near the back of the room with her teammates, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. The moment my eyes locked with hers, everything around me seemed to fade. Betrayal. Deceit. I could feel it all in the pit of my stomach.
For a moment, I thought about walking away, telling KK I couldn’t do this. But before I could make a move, KK turned to me, pleading.
“Caty, please. You have to help us,” she said, her voice soft but desperate. “This could ruin Paige’s career. You can’t let that happen.”
I clenched my jaw, still seething with anger as my gaze stayed fixed on Paige. The memories came rushing back. I wasn’t ready to face her. I wasn’t ready to forgive her.
“You’re asking me to help her?” I snapped, the bitterness in my voice unmistakable. “After everything she’s done to my sister?”
“Caty, please,” KK repeated, stepping closer to me. “I know it’s hard, but we really need you.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. But I can’t help her, I thought. Not after what she did.
KK looked at me with concern, sensing the tension. “Why do you hate her so much, Caty?” she asked quietly, her tone more thoughtful than I expected.
I turned away for a moment, trying to suppress the anger that had been bubbling inside me for years. It wasn’t easy to talk about. Not with KK, and definitely not with Paige in the room.
“When we were younger,” I started, my voice cold as I relived the painful memory, “Paige invited my sister, Alexis, to a football game. We thought it was a date. She was so excited. But when she came home that night, she was crying. She told me it was all a setup. Paige didn’t really like her. It was just a joke to her.”
I took a shaky breath, the anger bubbling up again. “I didn’t believe it at first. I thought it was some kind of misunderstanding. But when I confronted Paige at school, she just ignored me. She ignored us. And I knew then what happened. She humiliated my sister. Left her heartbroken, and didn’t even care.”
KK listened quietly, her eyes wide with shock and sympathy. But I wasn’t finished.
“What made it worse,” I continued, “is that years later, both of them ended up at the same college. Alexis called me, crying again, telling me Paige had pulled this nasty prank on her. Another one. Something mean-spirited. I don’t even know the details, but it didn’t matter. I promised Alexis I would never speak to her again. And I haven’t.”
KK looked at me, her expression softening. “Wow, Caty, I had no idea…” she whispered. She paused, processing the story before she spoke again. “But... do you really think she’s that same person now? I mean, she’s here, playing for the team. She’s probably changed.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t want to believe that Paige had changed. Part of me wanted to stay angry, to keep the walls up. But seeing her again, hearing KK’s words, made me question it. Still, the hurt ran deep.
“I don’t know if she’s changed or not,” I muttered, looking away from KK and back at Paige, who was now looking at me with something that seemed like... regret? “But her ignorance toward me and her disrespect toward Alexis tells me everything I needed to know.”
KK took a step closer, her eyes pleading again. “Caty, please. I know this is hard, but I need you. We need you. We can’t get through this without your help. I swear, I’ll make sure this doesn’t bring up any of that old stuff.”
I stared at Paige for a moment longer, still seething. But KK’s words kept echoing in my head. This wasn’t just about Paige anymore. This was about my friend. And I wasn’t about to abandon her when she needed me most.
“Fine,” I said, my voice low but firm. “I’ll help with the team’s case. But Paige has to find someone else.”
KK hesitated, a mischievous look crossing her face. “Please, Caty. Please help her too. Who knows? Maybe you two can work things out... talk things through.”
I shook my head, still unwilling to forgive her. “I haven’t seen Paige in years. I’m sure she’s still the same. Maybe worse.”
But before I could argue any further, my eyes found hers again. Paige was standing there, still as beautiful as ever, her blonde hair gleaming under the gym lights. And I couldn’t ignore the pull I felt, the flicker of something different in her gaze. It was the strangest sensation.
I snapped back to reality as KK shouted with excitement. “Guys! She said she’ll help us!” she called out, bringing the attention of the whole team to me. They all started thanking me, but my eyes remained locked on Paige.
When we finally came face to face, I felt my stomach twist. She was even more attractive now than I remembered. What was wrong with me?
“Hi, Caty,” she said softly, a tentative smile on her lips.
I met her gaze, icy and unforgiving. “My name is Catayela to you, Ms. Bueckers,” I said coldly.
She flinched at the correction. “Fine. Thank you, Catayela, for taking our case. Does this mean… you forgive me?”
I couldn’t help but laugh in her face, the bitterness in my laugh startling even me. I stepped closer, whispering in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear. “I give you mercy, not forgiveness,” I said, stepping back and watching as she blinked, a soft pink blush staining her cheeks.
Something about that moment threw me off—her flushed cheeks, the way she seemed to absorb my words. It was strange, and I didn’t like it. Did I?. But the one thing I did know for sure? This was far from over.What really threw me off, though, was the company they had signed with. Tell-Time Stories. The name hit too close to home.
Hey guyssss catyy here. hope yall enjoyed the 1st chapter the second chapter should come out sometime this week
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Shigaraki x Reader masterlist
Here's my attempt at collecting all my Shigaraki fics in one post! We'll see how it goes.
One-shots
the crying game - You gave up on love a long time ago, but you keep getting invited to weddings, and after eleven receptions spent at the single's table, you're almost at the end of your rope -- until first-time wedding guest Shigaraki Tomura asks you to show him how it's done. (rated T, Tumblr exclusive.)
magnum opus - you're a crime scene photographer, and serial killer Shigaraki likes your photos a little too much. (rated M, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e - spooky AU based on the movie The Boy. (rated M, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
Best Practice - Taking the night shift at a 24-7 emergency vet hospital isn't for the faint of heart, and you've seen a lot of crazy things. But on one particular shift, it's Tenko Shimura and his service dog who make the biggest impression on you.(rated T, Tumblr exclusive.)
camera shy - You're a villain who likes catching heroes in compromising positions, and when you can't do that, you put them there yourself. It's not until you capture Tenko Shimura that you lose the upper hand. (rated T, Tumblr exclusive.)
Somewhere in the Crowd - Tomura tells himself he's content with singing backup in the band he founded, and most of the time he is. But when he takes a song request from you during the biggest concert the League of Villains has ever played, he realizes that there might be a few advantages to claiming the spotlight. (rated T, Tumblr exclusive)
taking care of boyfriend!Shigaraki when he's sick (rated T, Tumblr exclusive)
hands-off, hands-on - Shigaraki's quirk makes life difficult in a lot of ways, but there's only one he can't find a way around, and since you joined the League of Villains, it's gotten even worse. When the truth comes out at last, he's expecting it to be a disaster and nothing else. He definitely isn't expecting you to offer to help. (rated E, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
Radio Silence - For the last year, your best friend has been somebody you've never met. When Tenko suddenly stops answering your messages, you don't know what to do. (rated T, Tumblr exclusive)
Tam Lin - When a child from your settlement goes missing, you go willingly into the woods to rescue him from the entity that dwells there. You're not at all prepared for what you find. (Based on the tale of Tam Lin. 7.1k words, afab reader, rated M with warnings for dubcon + smut. Tumblr exclusive)
you and Shigaraki try to survive your zombie-infested high school (rated M, soon to be expanded, currently Tumblr-exclusive.)
watching a scary movie with Shigaraki (rated T, Tumblr-exclusive.)
Multi-parts/Series
the new postmodern age - Before the war, you were nothing but a common criminal, but in the world that's arisen from the ashes, you got a second chance. Five years after the final battle between the heroes and the League of Villains, you run a coffee shop in a quiet seaside town, and you're devoted to keeping your customers happy. Even customers like Shimura Tenko, who needs a second chance even more than you did -- and who's harboring a secret that could upend everything you've tried to build. Will you let the past drag both of you down? Or will you find a way, against all odds, to a new beginning? (rated M, complete, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
blind date i + ii - After endless failed attempts to help Tomura up his game, his friends have settled on their last resort: A blind date. Even before you show up, it's not going well. No quirks AU, female reader. (rated T (for now), Tumblr exclusive)
needle, compass, north: part 1
Longfics
Expiation - Even after slaying the High Kingdom's greatest enemy and sparing its people from a terrible fate, Shigaraki Tomura's past crimes make him an outcast in the castle. Still, someone has to attend to him, and that someone is you -- and unlike the maids who came before you, you're not afraid to ask a question. (rated T, ongoing, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
Enough to Go By - Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (rated M, ongoing, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
Off-Script - Tomura's been Dabi's stunt double for almost a decade, and he's not easily impressed, but when he squares up with you for a fight scene, he finds himself caught off-guard in more ways than one. As the shoot progresses and sparks fly between the two of you, Tomura has to decide if you're worth the risk -- or if the best sparring partner he's ever had is all you'll ever be. (rated T, ongoing, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
Opposites Attract - Your quirk lets you capture almost anyone with ease, and you can't believe you let Shigaraki Tomura escape. Shigaraki can't believe it, either, and according to the League, there's only one possible explanation -- you let him go because you've fallen in love with him. He decides to find out if it's true. You decide you won't fail to capture him again. You both get a lot more than you bargained for. (rated T, ongoing, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
Skin Hunger - There's no such thing as a good night at work when you work in the world's most infamous brothel for monsters, but your night takes a turn for the worse when you find yourself serving drinks to visiting half-vampire Shigaraki Tomura. You don't mean to catch his interest, and you don't mean to start a conversation. You definitely don't mean to get him drunk. (rated M, ongoing, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
Haunting for Beginners - Ghosts summoned and bound to the human world have one purpose - haunting - but Tomura's never met a human he could stand long enough to haunt them, and he's pretty sure he never will. When you cross the threshold of his house, you capture his interest, and for the first time, he finds himself with a chance to do what ghosts are meant to do. It's too bad he doesn't know how. Scenes from Love Like Ghosts, through the eyes of the ghost in question. (rated M, ongoing, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
Love Like Ghosts - You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (rated M, complete, available on Tumblr + Ao3)
#shigaraki tomura x reader#tomura shigaraki x reader#shimura tenko x reader#tenko shimura x reader#shigaraki tomura x you#tomura shigaraki x you#shimura tenko x you#tenko shimura x you#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x you#x reader#reader insert#man door hand hook car door
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Wicked (part 1) was a solid adaptation
Saw Wicked last night. Only seen the musical once and for a movie longer than both halves of the original combined, the extra added minutes aren’t wasted. I can't exactly praise a movie for storytelling when its legwork was done near beat-for-beat already in the musical, and in the original book, but if you haven't or won't see anything except this film: Yes, it has a very good story.
But I want to talk about what I think is the best example of a “maybe they weren’t so terrible after all” villain redemption retcon, of which Elphaba is kind of the poster child of this whole trend. Why she works, and why something like Cruella did not. Not specific to this version at all.
Quick synopsis: Wicked is an alternate telling of the events before The Wizard of Oz, the backstory of the Good Witch Glinda and the Wicked Witch of The West. It is not the story of how good triumphed over evil, how Elphaba devolved or perhaps was always mean and nasty and underdog Glinda saved the day.
Instead, it’s a deeply political (and whoo boy is it relevant today) smear campaign against the disenfranchised and the minority population of Oz—the talking animals. Elphaba is the underdog, an up-and-coming bright-eyed sorceress taken under the wing of her magic school’s legendary professor, with hopes to one day meet the Great Wizard of Oz. There she meets mean-girl Galinda and for about half a classic mean-girl storyline, the two are enemies. Galinda makes amends, the two become friends, and they go together to Oz to meet the Wizard…
Who is an even worse man behind the curtain than in the ‘39 movie, a charlatan and a fraud, who, when Elphaba refuses to let him abuse her magic to scapegoat the talking animal community, launches said smear campaign, turning Elphaba into a pariah. Galinda (now Glinda) stays behind as the events of Wizard of Oz play out, using her socio-political savviness to help Elphaba where she can. Oh, and the melting? Well, the Wizard isn’t the only master of illusions.
—
The ingredients are all there for a ridiculously base “girl boss” plot about this OP Mary Sue who just will not get taken seriously by the ugh “men” around her (and this is absolutely a feminist storyline screaming high notes from the rooftops) until she shows them all they’re idiots and fools and she’s amazing. The bullying classmates, Glinda’s narcissism, Elphaba’s unprecedented raw power with magic.
Except it has the one thing so many recent “girl boss” movies don’t: You like Elphaba and she’s not perfect, and, you like Glinda (eventually). She’s not arrogant and flawless. She’s introverted and can come off as rude and unfriendly but she just lacks foundational relationships to help her socialize, and in the face of the shallow dipshits at her school, she has every reason to be rude and unfriendly.
Glinda, too, is naïve, but not cruel, save for one moment where she immediately owns up to it once she realizes how badly she screwed up, risking the thing she cares about most—her reputation and popularity and likability—to help a girl who selflessly gave her the other thing she cares about most: The chance to also become a sorceress.
But most importantly: Elphaba is a victim, not the architect of so much of this story. Mary Sues do everything right without any effort, they don’t struggle, they don’t overcome any fears or prejudice or limitations. Elphaba isn’t the one loudly and proudly demanding an audience with the Wizard. She isn’t going around praising herself and her abilities. She has a lot of power, but never learned how to use it, and she doesn’t luck into her story, she’s explicitly, strategically manipulated into her role.
She'd be more of a Mary Sue if the Wizard's offer was genuine and he was actually a good person, then she really would have lucked her way into fortune by virtue of being inexplicably adept at magic. But she's not, and he's not.
The story manages to build her up without dragging everyone else down. Nor does she "turn evil" because the Wizard doesn't respect her for being green, or a woman, he doesn't give a shit, he just wants what she can do for him. She "turns evil" because they have deeply different philosophies and he's standing in her way and she has no other choice but to flee and become a fugitive. She chooses this, the Wizard doesn't kick her out.
But even before that, Elphaba does become popular, her shallow classmates do start to like her (disproving any notion about how the world will hate her no matter what she does, so fuck ‘em), Glinda does actually have a heart and she is smart, just in a very different school of thought from Elphaba. The influence of the Wizard is just so strong that of course they’re going to believe his lies.
It’s not a story about how “this villain was actually the victim of a Tragic Backstory and you should feel bad for them because it’s even sadder than the hero’s” it’s “this villain was actually the victim of a smear campaign, and the heroes are still heroes, but here’s the other side of who they were fighting”.
But it also works because of the story that it is. Ignoring the actual Oz books (and there are many of them): Precedent already exists in the ‘39 movie—the Wizard is already revealed to be a charlatan. Wicked doesn’t rip up the old script, tell you you’re wrong, and then plop in a whole new story that fucks the continuity. Nor does it ask you to change your mind about a villain who doesn’t really deserve redemption in the first place, like, say, one who skins puppies to wear their fur. Instead, it digs into the fissures that were already there and pulls up the rocks to reveal what’s underneath.
And, Elphaba knows she’s going to be seen as a villain, but she’s not happily engaging in “villainy”. She’s doing what she thinks is right, something the audience should agree with, and is choosing to become a pariah to get her way. She never becomes a “villain”, just the antagonist to the hero’s journey, and I don’t remember the ’39 movie perfectly, but “this little rat from another world dropped a house on my sister and is on her way to kill me, too” would make one justifiably upset.
But overall, it’s just a story with layers and nuance that’s sorely missing in its contemporaries, and, like I said, deeply political without strawmanning either side (wellllllllll...). And, it respects the source material.
I also don’t remember the first Maleficent that well, but I think that also did a good job? Back when the live-action remakes weren’t all hot garbage.
So. Yeah. You want to write a powerful female character very explicitly being a feminist icon (and the consequences that come with it)? Elphaba is the perfect example.
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i had a conversation with someone from Disability Services at my school that turned into more of a heart-to-heart. i confided in him that there's actually a lot of jobs/careers i couldn't do because of my disability, and usually i don't mind because those would be hell for me anyway regardless, but with the one i really wanted to take, that wasn't the case. i really tried to make it work. but i couldn't, and i explained why. same with full-time school.
he said that he didn't want to sound discouraging or like i can't do it, but that it's best to be realistic with myself about my options in life. and that was so comforting. i wouldn't have minded at all if he really did mean it like "i agree; you can't do it;" the thing many abled people don't understand is that there's a lot of liberation that comes from letting go of the expectation that we disabled people can do everything an abled person can.
it saves us a lot of mental and physical pain, lost sleep, obsessing, self-neglect, injuries, getting acute illnesses more easily, chronic/episodic conditions flaring up more/worse than before, the pain of always masking how hard it is. working 10+ times harder than everyone else just to achieve the same result. and sometimes, if we can manage to hide how much we're struggling, the downside of that is that no one is aware that we are, so they think we have the ability to try even harder so we can achieve even more. so they push us past our limits before either of us realize what's going on.
please, if a disabled person comes to you and says, "i've done everything i can to try to make this work, but i've come to the realization that i can't do it," or, "i can't do it without help/support/a caregiver," validate the temporary pain of that while also acknowledging the reality that this is liberating in the long run. because you can rest now. finally.
"Disabled people can do everything abled people can!1!1!!" I'm gonna have to ask you what you think disabled means
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so many things happening in my life in the next couple months and it feels like my life is turning around compared to how I felt this time last year which was complete and utter dread and burn out in every sense of the word
#ME WHEN I GIVE MYSELF MORE SPACE AND TIME TO HEAL AND BE OKAY AFTER A SCHOOL YEAR#there are several factors as to why i don't feel like the human-ish equivalent of the swamp monster#mostly though it's because I'm going into homeschooling so the overwhelming fear of the next school year and all the expectations and#running around and will i get a good teacher and do i have to change my schedule and oh god am i gonna be able to get my 504 in check and#are my teachers even going to follow it and all of that isn't present#I'm gonna meet my teacher here soon and i she's a special ed teacher and i won't have to run between classes#or worry about my principal suddenly making a rule that we can't go to the bathrooms during class hours#and everything else that comes with going to school i did#and also the reason i don't feel like shit is i haven't done much this summer!!! literally everything was fighting for my time and attention#last summer and i felt like i barely had a moment to breathe#one moment I'm in Tennessee with my aunt and the next I'm back in Oklahoma running a convention#and then less than a week later I'm at counselor in training camp for two weeks (would've been three but i got sick due to overworking#myself while at the camp)#and then as soon as all of that was done i had only about a week before school started again#this year i only went to one convention instead of working at one and I'm going to two camps#one was at the start which was a day camp that i work at#and the second one is like next weekend (not this one but the next) and it's an overnight but again only a weekend instead of two weeks#and I'm a camper at that second camp since it's meant for lgbtq+ teens :3#and that's it!!!!#then i have school and in October i have the dan and phil terrible influence tour in Colorado#which means i get to visit my aunt and uncle and my cousin#and i have my nurse gerard costume for halloween#and then at the end of January i have my first furry convention which I'm making a fursuit for currently!!!!!
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i've been diving a lot deeper into adhd symptoms and comorbidities and misdiagnoses and whenever i tell my boyfriend something i learned that sounds like me he responds with something like
#idk he knows me more than anyone bc i can't hide the parts i'm ashamed of from him#last night he was like. yeah EYE think you have adhd but i'm just some guy#idk i'm excited about this not because i want to be Quirky for internet reasons. yknow. but bc i've felt like an impostor of a human being#and i have no sense of self and i can't get myself to do basic tasks and the thought of doing something i don't want to do#genuinely makes me want to throw up/my brain shuts down/i can't think or talk or function to the point where i can't work.#so i can't support myself. so i feel terrible about myself. and i've been in and out of therapy for 20 years and have numerous diagnoses#that have never really felt like they fully encapsulate what's going on. and like. i've kinda just internalized that i'm not as good at#being a person as everyone else because i struggle so so much. like yeah i did well in school but i had to sacrifice literally everything#else to do that. idk how everyone else is managing to have a job and hobbies and friends#i get to pick like. one now. i used to be able to juggle everything to some degree although i felt like i was being careless in all areas#except school. i'm so scared of making mistakes or starting anything or talking to new people or trying new hobbies#because i know it won't interest me more than a couple weeks MAX and i'll feel listless and restless again#and i've come to understand this as part of who i am at my core. i'm just someone who can't commit and isn't reliable or a good friend#i just want so badly for that not to be the case because i want so badly to not be stuck like this#idk im going home to talk to my dad this weekend and just rest because i'm really really not doing well#which is why i'm scrambling to try to figure out what's going on with me because idk how much longer i feasibly can do this#and i might be moving back to the pnw bc therapists in pa don't work with medicaid#and no psychiatrists near me are taking new patients. and i can't work to get on private insurance. but therapists in or do work w medicaid#so idk. again if youre diagnosed w adhd and this sounds not like someone who is consuming social media brain rot content about adhd#but rather someone whose experiences you identify with. please let me know. please please#i am reaching out to professionals also but things move slowly and i'm trying to compile evidence so i don't sound like i'm making it up
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apparently one of my cousins was just accepted into a master's writing program at an Ivy League school
and that's why I almost never go on Facebook 🙃
#look. do I even think I could handle a master's in writing at an Ivy League?#.....I mean. I think so. I managed a master's in geoscience at one of the top geology schools in the nation.#(....''managed'' is doing some VERY heavy lifting there lnjasdknf)#but do I want to do that? no.#do I still feel weird and like I'm wasting my life and everyone else is more accomplished than me? yes.#it does help a bit that the cousin in question has outright told me her success is in large part from her father pushing her v hard#(he did the same thing to her siblings)#and that she kinda fucking hates how she was pushed to succeed so much#like I don't wish that on anyone but it does help me to put into context her success. it comes at a cost. like everything else.#and to be frank it's not a cost I'm willing to pay at this point in my life.#I still feel weird and uhhhhh incompetent I guess would be the best word tho#also like I'm wondering why she's going to an Ivy League when she's already at one of the top writing schools#maybe distance from her family....in which case. godspeed cuz.#ANYWAYS I have a v accomplished family that I at times feel inferior to despite my own accomplishments#and no that has no influence on my OC Angie's own similar feelings why would you think that#(my family would be upset if they knew I felt inferior btw no one makes me feel bad other than my own brain)#(I have a v loving and supportive family and am v blessed to have them~)#whine whine whine
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flippin boobahs!
#weezer#rivers cuomo#brian bell#patrick wilson#scott shriner#OKAH HI CHAT#i’ve been thinking#this tag will be just a rant not really weezer related#yk laufey ?#i was listening to her song ‘letter to my 13 year old self’ and just started overthinking about myself when i was younger#i just think about my younger self and get so sad thinking about her; i wish i could’ve done more for her#i was a huge introvert and talking to anybody made me super super anxious; so much so that my teacher noticed and had me join a ‘social#emotional learning’ group where we spoke about low self esteem and how to raise it and everything like that#i only left it in 8th grade because i didn’t wanna keep missing class for it; but it made me so sad to think i thought so low of myself#i would wear hoodies all the time and jeans because i used to hate my body a lot#which is awful to do in socal heat!#i think it started because in my family i was always stereotyped as the fat one; yk how mexican families are? they called me gordita for#the longest time; which made me incredibly insecure and only in 10th grade did i start showing my arms 😭 IK ITS DUMB BUT ITS SO WEIRD#i still can’t do it entirely; i’ll wear shrugs and things like that because i still am insecure about my arms sometimes but ive been better#i only really had one friend but she had a different lunch; so i was alone for most of the time on the swings by myself or sitting at the#lunch tables alone waiting for lunch to end and this noon duty came to me a lot and would talk to me since she felt bad i was always alone#while everybody else played with each other ; and i don’t know why i just broke down thinking about how lonely i was at the time#i’d go to the school’s friendship room everyday after that because it was just a teacher who let kids come inside her room to play games if#they didn’t wanna be in the heat and soon i became friends w the teacher and she’d play uno with me everyday; mainly because the room was#relatively empty until they got loom bands! and i was an expert on loom bracelets so i would help others make them and that was a confidenc#e boost; i remember being proud of myself for socializing like that LOL#i just get sad thinking about that time; i like to think that if little Lyss saw me; she would be so proud because i have friends;#a boyfriend ; good grades ; and i’m well liked and regarded. i hope she’s proud of my progress socially because it was such a leap#i wish i could go back in time and tell her how much better things get and how she won’t be lonely forever#…and to not online date. definetly don’t do that one.
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