#can you not do a read more on mobile anymore? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkskinned · 2 years

Text

oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.

oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.

oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.

which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.

but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.

which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.

and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!

and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.

the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!

and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -

what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.

and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.

#i hate when people try to tell me i didn't do it right #what should i have done better #i did it ALL the right way #(not that there is a right way)#it's just that others feel comfortable believing that THEY did it the right way and that's how they made money #whereas i must have just committed a sin somewhere in there! i MUST be doing it wrong!!!#and i'm not a victim!!! im simply experiencing consequences!#and im like. where . where. wherewherewherewhere #i graduated top of my class. i was almost the student speaker.#i have always excelled at work and i work hard #i have been working since i was 13 #WHERE !!!!! IS MY FUCKING !!!! MONEY!!!!!!#ps please do not make the assumption i am ablebodied or neurotypical.#i am neither of these things.#it DOES get worse if u are either of those things. so fuckin much #but @ the one anon who was like ''u could be X that would be worse u don't know how lucky u are''#.... don't i?#do i need to be luckier than someone else #or is it possible we are BOTH victims?#and that we need to work TOGETHER to resolve it #not just wave it off since it COULD be harder for someone else... it can be true we BOTH deserve better

5K notes · View notes

saetoru · 1 year

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。underneath the stars (looking for a sign)

synopsis. al-haitham thinks waking up beside you feels like a dream—well, until it doesn’t

— word count. 4.1k (how did a drabble get here sobs)

— contents. pining al-haitham, honestly it’s mutual pining lol, gn! reader, implied one night stands, consumption of alcohol (both reader and al-haitham) reader is a matra, al-haitham is acting grand sage, it’s basically the “avoid my crush after i accidentally sleep with him until he corners me” trope lol, confessions, brief angst and then a happily ever after, sfw + fluff, not proof read—this was entirely written on tumblr drafts through mobile app. yeah. we raw dogged this bad boy lmao

— notes. if you knew. how many wips i have with him. you would be astounded :,) he’s all that matters anymore

al-haitham wakes up to a bed much softer than his, red flag number one. there’s also a weight on his chest, red flag number two. red flag number three, however, doesn’t make itself apparent until he opens his eyes and sees you.

oh. not good. you’re covered in the sheets, but you’re clearly…topless, and a quick glance at his own torso tells him he’s also not clothed. oh. double not good.

but there’s also a small voice in his head that’s cheering and patting himself on the shoulder—he’s managed to fall into the bed of the very person he’s been quietly pining over for months, what more can a guy possibly ask for?

but unfortunately, his mini celebration in his inner thoughts is disrupted when you open your eyes at the disturbance from his movement—and before he can get even one word in, you shriek. rather loudly, too—it makes him wince at the sound (he’s always had sensitive ears.)

“what are you doing here?” you gasp, “and why haven’t you got a shirt—wait. why haven’t i got a shirt on?”

“well, it seems—”

“you slept with me?” you gasp again, cutting him off as your face twists in disbelief, “while i was drunk?”

“i was drunk too,” he points out, frowning at the accusations. al-haitham is a respectable man, and more importantly, he cares about you too much to take advantage of your inebriated state like that. “it was a two way street.”

that seems to calm you for…approximately two seconds before your face twists in horror again.

“al-haitham,” you wail his name in despair, slumping onto your mattress in defeat, “this is the worst thing we could have done. do you realize that?”

oh. you regret this—the voice in his head suddenly stops cheering. it deflates, in fact.

worst thing. is this really the worst thing? al-haitham thinks you both have always gotten along rather well, and he’s always taken your slightly stuttered words and nervous chuckles as a testament to holding the same attraction he holds for you. but maybe he was too quick to assume you feel the same, and your words now feel like a boulder on his chest. they’re heavy. soul crushingly heavy, in fact—but he keeps the blank expression on his face ever so easily.

“yes, it seems a bit inappropriate for coworkers to have an entanglement,” he agrees after a moment, making you whine at his word choice.

“you don’t have to call it that,” you huff.

then, out of sheer curiosity (and absolutely nothing else), you take a quick peek from the corner of your eyes at his chest. in your defense, his shirt leaves practically little left to the imagination, and when else will you get the opportunity to see his (very impressive) chest? a peek won’t hurt.

you’re thoroughly impressed when your eyes catch his sculpted pecs. his eyes are thoroughly unimpressed when they catch your gaze.

“well, what would you like to do about our predicament?” he asks flatly.

acting uninterested is the hardest part, he realizes. here, you’re within reach for his arm to curl around you, and yet somehow, there still feels like there are miles of space between you in the sheets. it’s a bitter reality, he thinks, one that stings a bit more than he’s ever really imagined.

al-haitham has witnessed lots of rejections in his time. whether it’s at the akademiya where he is the unfortunate witness of a rejected confession, or in novels he reads of unrequited feelings. he however never thought he’d land himself in the same situation—even if he hasn’t technically confessed to you yet. but your reaction definitely feels like one, and he’s smart enough to deduce that if he did confess, you wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea.

sure, it’s a bit unprofessional for the acting grand sage to have a relationship with one of the akademiya’s top matra that he works with rather frequently, but al-haitham is only the temporary grand sage. technically, after this, he will be going back to being the scribe who makes himself scarce on a regular basis. and it’s not very unprofessional for the scribe and a matra to be romantically involved, he’d like to argue. most people meet their significant others through the akademiya in the first place—why should he be any different?

but one glance at your face tells him you’re rather unhappy with this situation. he thinks he can hear a crack where the boulder resides on his chest.

“i think you should leave,” you mumble, chewing nervously on your lip, “and don’t say anything about this to anyone. especially not cyno.”

“noted,” he says blandly. you turn away, letting him have the privacy to rise out of bed and dress—which he does as slowly as possible, just to drag out the feeling of being in your bedroom for just a while longer—before he says clears his throat. “i’ll be seeing you,” he says.

“sure,” you nod awkwardly, “see you at uh…see you at work.”

with that, he walks out of your bedroom, and sees himself out. as soon as you hear the front door shut, you turn and scream into your pillow—the same pillow that happened to be under al-haitham’s head for the entire night, the same pillow that smells like his shampoo.

you think for a moment how you can never wash this pillow case again—and then, when you realize just what you’ve thought, you scream again.

you might just be entirely screwed.

—————

“and where have you been?” kaveh is waiting in the kitchen as soon as al-haitham enters.

great.

kaveh has a talent for making himself available to chatter away into al-haitham’s ear on the most stressful of days. whether it’s to greet him with complaints about having no help with cleaning after a long day of work, or to bang on his office door and demand an explanation for rejected funds as he does paperwork, or to ask where he’s been after he’s been wounded rather harshly by the one person he’s ever felt romantically inclined for, kaveh is always there at the worst possible timing.

leave it to kaveh to sour his mood more.

“i don’t see how it’s any of your business,” al-haitham mutters, grabbing the glass of water on the table and chugging it to help with the slight hangover he nurses—it’s evidently not his best morning in more ways than one.

“hey, that’s my glass,” kaveh scolds, “get your own.”

“it’s actually my glass. from my grandmothers set,” al-haitham corrects his roommate, “and i pay the water bills. so it’s my water too.”

“you—” kaveh shakes with frustration. it would pull a bit of an amused grin on al-hairham’s face if he wasn’t in the worst mood possible. “nevermind,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “where were you—wait, is that a hickey?”

“no,” al-haitham says instantly, pulling his cloak higher to cover his neck—but kaveh beats him to it, reaching over and inspecting his skin. he seems to light up as soon as he realizes it is, in fact, a hickey on al-haitham’s neck.

“it is a hickey,” he grins gleefully, gasping in sheer disbelief that al-haitham seems to have some sort of life outside of work and home, “this can’t be. did you pay someone to get into bed with you—”

“just because some of us can afford such services doesn’t mean we indulge in them,” al-haitham grumbles, which earns an offended gasp from the blonde, “and i’m not obligated to tell you where, or with who for that matter, i was—”

“was it that matra you’re always standing around with?” kaveh grins knowingly, cutting him off.

the mere mention of you must make his face fall—which is new, because al-haitham has always been good at hiding his emotions on his face. but kaveh seems to have realized he’s overstepped, because his smile fades just as quickly as it comes.

“it doesn’t matter,” al-haitham mutters, “it was a mistake.”

“a mistake? but you’ve been pathetically pining for months, anyone with eyes can see—”

“i’ll be going to work now,” al-haitham cuts kaveh off, “make sure you pay this months rent on time.”

with that, he turns, making his way to his room to shower and then be off to the akademiya—where he equal parts hopes he doesn’t see you, and equal parts hopes he runs into you just to catch a glimpse of you again.

—————

you haven’t seen al-haitham is six days—correction: you’ve avoided al-haitham for six days. admittedly, it’s becoming increasingly difficult seeing as he is the acting grand sage, and you do need him to approve of your reports from recent investigations—but then you remember how six days ago, in the darkly lit corner of the street on your way home, you both kissed.

(and yes, it was a drunken mistake—neither you nor al-haitham value public displays of inappropriate affection between coworkers, but that doesn’t erase what happened.)

perhaps it would be easy to laugh it off as an impulsive action the both of you took while being under the influence, but then you both stumbled into your house. and then your bed. and then a kiss turned into more…and then next thing you knew, you’ve been awakened to a very unclothed (but still very handsome) al-haitham next to you in the mattress.

you should be mature and face him—people can sleep with people and not let it mean anything, proper adults would simply brush over this and never look back. but al-haitham is a bit of a difficult scenario.

he’s handsome—painfully so, with those sculpted muscles and those soft strands of hair that fall perfectly over his face. but more than he is easy on the eyes, he’s a charming individual. at least to you—you think the majority of the akademiya would have to disagree.

but al-haitham is kind, he greets you properly, holds doors open for you, and he often notices when you’re tired just by looking at you before giving you extensions on reports. he’s caring, you can tell because he’s helped people more than once, and while he claims it’s for the sake of his own convenience so he can avoid extra trouble, you know that he doesn’t have the heart to turn away from those that need him. more importantly, al-haitham is disciplined—it’s something all matra such as yourself can appreciate.

he seeks out knowledge in the most moral of methods, he never crosses limits or abuses power even when he holds the ability to, and he never takes advantage of the authority he may hold over others.

he’s wonderful, you can’t help but think—and admittedly, his hands also have very attractive veins that make you sweat a little. but that’s not the important part, of course. the important part is how perfect his character is, if you take the moment to understand it. and you like to think you understand it—much more than most at the akademiya.

except romancing the akademiya’s grand sage isn’t the best look for a matra—especially if you want to climb up the ranks soon. you don’t want rumors spread to undermine your hard work…or worse, be accused by the general mahamatra of taking your position as the grand sage’s lover to your advantage for work gains.

cyno is a strict individual—you’d hate to get on his bad side. and just as you think about how awful it would be if he got the wrong impression, he walks right up to you.

with that serious look on his face—why does he always have that serious look on his face?

“grand sage al-haitham requests you in his office,” he says. you don’t detect any suspicion in his voice, and it seems like a perfectly normal statement, but that’s the thing about cyno. he’s too good at not letting his movements be read, too good at cornering caged animals before dragging them by the ankles out in the open, exposed and vulnerable.

you gulp. “did he say why?” you ask, “i’m a bit busy.”

“no,” cyno shakes his head—and then he looks at you oddly, “you don’t seem busy.”

“well….this report won’t write itself,” you chuckle nervously, which only makes his brows furrow in confusion.

“wasn’t that due two days ago?”

fuck.

“yes….but al-haitham gave me an extension.”

“he seems to give you a lot of those,” cyno points out, unimpressed.

well, that’s great, you think. surely, there is no other matra as good at losing composure and making things more obvious for themselves than you.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” you say quickly—which isn’t the worst excuse, seeing as you’ve hardly shown your face at the akademiya for the last few days.

cyno seems to buy it too, because he nods in understanding before giving you a concerned look. “you shouldn’t push yourself, you know,” he lectures, “being sick snot fun.” you blink, and he looks thoroughly amused with himself. “get it? because when you’re sick, you might have a runny nose? snot? and—”

“right,” you nod, “i’ll be seeing the grand sage now. i wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

at least you know cyno has not made any….inappropriate assumptions if he’s making jokes, as painful as they might be. you’re not sure if you’d rather face al-haitham or continue to listen to the general mahamatra’s interesting sense of humor, but the closer you get to the grand sage’s office, the more you want to turn back and find cyno again.

but you’re an adult, and adults do adult things sometimes, and sometimes they’re not the most ideal, but the only way to handle such situations is the adult way—to be mature and not let things get in the way of being professional. easy enough.

at least, you hope.

—————

“you called for me, grand sage?”

ouch. al-haitham has now been reduced to grand sage, not just al-haitham. he looks at you for a moment, and he tries—really, he does—to seem unbothered, but his brows crinkle before he can stop them.

“i did, yes,” he says, looking at you.

you look lovely—which, you always do, even when you’re nervous. he can tell you are because you have that habit of chewing on your lip when you’re nervous, and he hates that he makes you anxious enough to do that right now.

al-haitham has always hated the gap between him and everyone else—not because he enjoys being close to others, but because it’s burdensome to always seem like a pretentious asshole. being interpreted as one over the years has left him quite numb to what other people think….but that’s not the case with you, unfortunately. he wonders if you’ve ever thought he was an asshole, or if you’ve ever felt that he acts like he’s better than you are. he hopes you’ve never talked to him and thought he’s condescending like kaveh insists he is—he hopes you find value in his honesty and find him insightful.

he thinks you might have at one point, if the way carrying conversation with you is so easy is of any proof. it feels natural, talking to you. your voice is smooth, especially when it reads over mission reports to him in his office. your laugh is even smoother, though—it’s soft, and honeyed, it sounds like something he’s been missing his whole life.

everything about you feels like something he’s been missing his whole life, like he was born to be with you by his side, and he’s been empty without you all along.

you clear your throat, handing him papers as you pull him from his thoughts and say, “here is the report for that last investigation,” you say quietly, “i apologize for the untimeliness. it won’t happen again—”

“that’s not why i called you,” he cuts you off.

al-haitham is a straightforward man. he’s watched many confessions, and he’s read about many confessions, and he’s even thought about how his own confessions might go should he ever find someone he finds interest in.

but this isn’t interest. al-haitham is not interested in you—he needs you. to call this a confession might be incorrect, he thinks for a moment, because this almost feels like he’s about to plead for you to give him a chance.

“oh,” your voice is small.

you think you have an inkling of an idea of what he’ll bring up, and you contemplate running out of his office and begging cyno to tell you a few more of his jokes….or a few dozen….maybe a few hundred to be safe.

“we should talk about that night—”

“well, there’s not much to talk about,” you say simply, “you and i are consenting adults, and we happened to be heavily under the influence, which caused a lapse in judgement. it’s a bit unprofessional, sure, but as long as neither of us say anything, and as long as we manage to keep a professional atmosphere between the two of us, there shouldn’t be any—”

he cuts off your (rehearsed in the bathroom mirror many times) speech as he clears his throat. “i….” the words are caught in his throat.

for a lifetime of straightforward honesty and blunt words, it seems like now of all times he can’t seem to speak.

“you…?” you motion for him to continue.

“i enjoyed it.”

you sputter. his eyes widen as he stumbles over his words when he realizes what he’s really said.

“grand sage,” you gasp, “i think that’s hardly appropriate for—”

“n-no, i meant i enjoyed you,” he says quickly, making you furrow your brows.

“and what does that mean? because—”

“i enjoyed being with you,” he croaks. it’s a good thing kaveh isn’t here to witness this, because as a self proclaimed expert at love (which al-haitham would have to disagree), kaveh would have an absolute ball watching this. “i don’t….i would prefer if we didn’t pretend nothing happened,” he mumbles, “if you feel the same, that is.”

everything about al-haitham is hopeful. from the way his eyes watch your every movement as they stare at you, to the way he clutches the pen in his hand tightly in anticipation of your response, he’s hopeful. you can tell.

you can tell he’s hopeful you’ll say yes, that he’s hopeful you’ll say you feel the same way as him, that he’s hopeful he’ll see you again in a setting that’s not just for work and mission reports and investigation details.

he’s hopeful you’ll say yes to his pleading eyes and fill that empty spot beside him that’s been empty for far too long.

and it feels like swallowing lead when you sigh heavily and watch the hope crumble.

“al-haitham,” you mumble, “this wouldn’t be very wise, you know?”

“and why’s that?” the hurt in his face is almost tangible.

he’s not foreign to rejections, he’s witnessed them his whole life. he watched that haravatat scholar that declined the amurta one outside of class that one year. he read about that main character that found self respect and declined the toxic love interest in that novel he read last summer. he’s declined his own fair share of confessions by random scholars that stare a bit too long at his chest and arms for his liking.

but for some reason, he never imagined it to feel like this. like being with your for one second longer might just burn his skin, but being away from you might leave him cold and numb. al-haitham thinks that if you walked out that door, you might just take every bit of warmth he’s ever known from him—but sitting in front of you, in front of your sorrowed expression and sympathetic eyes….it might be too much heat for him to handle.

“well, you’re the grand sage, and i’m a matra—”

“acting grand sage,” he corrects, “it’s temporary. i’ll be back to being the akademiya’s scribe in a short bit.”

“but people talk,” you insist, “and i’ve worked hard to be a respectable matra, and i wouldn’t want anyone to think i’ve slept my way to the top. plus, the general mahamatra is technically my boss, and he’s very strict—”

“the general mahamatra and i drink at taverns together quite often,” he says pointedly, “he’s well aware of how i feel.”

“you told cyno?” you gasp, shooting him a sharp look, “i asked you specifically not to—”

“he’s known of my feelings before that night,” he assures, “evidently i’m not very subtle.”

“well,” you hum, biting back a smile, “no, you aren’t.”

he raises a brow, tilting his head in confusion. “you’ve known?”

“al-haitham,” you chuckle, eyeing him fondly. something about the way your smile is so bright makes him clutch his pen tighter. “you aren’t the most social, you know. but you always have something to say to me.”

“that doesn’t always mean anything,” he mumbles, blush rising to the tips of his ears.

he’s endearing this way, you decide—when he’s flustered and almost pouting and flushed a bright shade of pink. you think for a second that maybe, if you kiss him for a bit in the comforts of his office, no one will ever have to know.

“but it does, doesn’t it?” you tease.

“and if you’ve indulged it all this time, am i safe to assume it means something to you too?” he asks, raising a brow.

you should say no. sleeping with the grand sage and kissing him in his office and maybe even going on dates and possibly holding hands is hardly a good look—but the scribe….well, maybe the scribe is a different story.

“ask me again when you’re the akademiya’s scribe,” you say, biting back a smile, “perhaps my answer will be different then.”

“i see,” he nods, biting back a smile of his own, “i suppose the grand sage isn’t everyone’s type, huh?”

“no,” you chuckle, “i suppose not. but the scribe….well, he’s rather charming.” you walk up to him, lean down and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as you mumble, “i don’t mind waiting for the scribe.”

“well, lucky for you, you won’t have to wait too long,” he hums.

he watches you leave his office—and then he decides that when he clocks out at five pm sharp later, he’ll go straight home, tell kaveh that he is, in fact capable in the field of romance, and demand this month’s rent.

—————

“haitham, we’re out of eggs,” you pout, poking your head out of the fridge, “will you bring some on the way home today?”

“we would have eggs if kaveh didn’t use all of mine,” al-haitham grumbles, glaring at the blonde who gasps in offense.

“and you help yourself to my beer, don’t you? i deserve a few eggs,” kaveh huffs.

“well, make sure you pay this month’s rent on time. we’re going to buy some more furniture for our room.”

this time, kaveh turns to you in disbelief—you find it amusing how he seems to still find it improbable that anyone would like to spend longer than five minutes with al-haitham, let alone share a bedroom.

“are you really sure you want to do this? what could you possibly see in him? he’s the most aggravating individual i’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to,” kaveh eyes you in concern as you walk over and press a soft kiss to al-haitham’s forehead, earning himself an unimpressed glare from the scribe and making you giggle.

“he is a bit aggravating,” you agree with a teasing glint, pinching al-haitham’s cheek as he scoffs, “but i think he’s just nice to me because i sleep with him.”

“that’s gross,” kaveh wrinkles his nose, “you had better not be doing anything i can hear from my room—that would be traumatic. although, it must be more traumatic for you,” he says with sympathy.

“if you don’t like it, you can simply move out,” al-haitham, shrugs, wrapping an arm around your waist. as much as you love your boyfriend—and you love him quite a bit, you can’t help but mourn the fact that constant bickering will now become a staple in your daily routine.

“are you threatening me?” kaveh gasps before he turns to you with his finger pointing to al-haitham, “do you see? this is your future, i hope you know that. he’s much more unpleasant to live with, i’m warning you in advance—don’t say i didn’t try.”

“well, i’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior for me,” you grin, eyeing al-haitham playfully as your fingers weave into his hair, “otherwise, i’ll have to come sleep in your room when i’m mad at him.”

you think, for the first time ever, kaveh and al-haitham seem to agree on something as they both share a look of dread at your words.

pov: you write 3.8k words of build up for a plot just so you can write the last scene 😭

no bc literally i meant to write this as a drabble just so i could write that last scene bc i thought of it and giggled but then the plot just kept going and now we’re at 4.1k words like w h a t

#teepods.writings #fics.#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #alhaitham angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

2K notes · View notes

bob-artist · 3 months

Note

Just found you via your funny dream comic. Good stuff 😆. Definitely gonna read the rest, and I was surprised you had your own website. Looks good on mobile too. I’ve got a comic that some friends keep trying to build me a site for but I’ve been telling them no because it seems like between webtoon and social media nobody is interested in personal sites anymore.

Have you noticed an uptick in engagement from your site? Would you recommend going that route? I’d like to hear your thoughts.

I’m also interested in how you decided to build/host it, if that question isn’t too lame.

Anyway, glad I found your comics!

Ah thank you for checking out Into the Smoke's website!!

Oh, I have SO many thoughts about independent webcomic sites and why people should have them. I have so many thoughts, and I'm so so sorry.

Why did I decide to have my own webcomic site?

First of all, this is not a lame question and I wish we could all have this conversation more often, so I could maybe write just a paragraph instead of this whole dissertation!

1. Because I lived through webcomics history.

I launched my first webcomic in 2011. I watched the webcomics scene shift over the years from self-hosted sites to third party sites, and I saw what it meant for independent creators. We lost vital infrastructure, relationships, habits, and control over our own work. I think self-hosted sites are an important backbone for creators, even if/when their largest *numbers* come from a third party site.

We’re all supposed to be helping each other, not fighting each other to satisfy the algorithm. Our early tools (webrings, link trades, comic databases, sharing each other’s posts) were small but meaningful, and they also helped us maintain a community mindset in a long and sometimes lonely line of work. When we started leaning on hosting sites, we let a lot of those tools and relationships decay. And now a lot of people are locked into imbalanced relationships with hosting sites that leave them with very little agency and control over their work and how it’s shared (or isn’t shared).

Hosting sites are great for removing barriers to entry (cost/time to build a site). And a lot of them have large built-in audiences. But the big ones aren’t run by people who care about creators. They’re designed to extract the maximum value from your work while giving you the least they can get away with. Use them if you want (I do), but don't be dependent on them.

2. Comics are the main thing I do for a living, and a website gives me the tools to promote my work and build relationships with my readers.

Most apps and third party sites actively prevent or suppress these things. On your own site, you can share all the info you want about your upcoming Kickstarter, your tradpub book release, your merch, etc. You can collect email addresses for your newsletter. You can literally just talk about your weekend, and you’re not gonna have a 150-character limit.

Yeah, not everyone wants to read a wall of text (ha ha...), but acting like a person reminds readers to treat you like a person. This is one of my main gripes with the apps and social media - they suppress human connection and present you like a cog in their machine that only exists to churn out free content.

3. I have a consistent home base and full control over how my work is displayed.

I don’t have to fight against an app that’s trying to direct my readers toward whichever content is most profitable for them. On an app, the readers “belong” to them, not you. (Who has their email addresses?) So if I'm putting effort into promoting my comic, I'm promoting my own site. (oh look, I just did it.)

Hosting sites/apps aren't designed to showcase your work. They showcase the app’s collection, and they're designed to keep readers on the app, jumping from creator to creator. This can help readers find you, but it also devalues your work and dilutes its impact.

And the app might not show your work to anyone anyway. Tapas is a great example; they recently redesigned their site to prioritize their Originals, and independent creators are hidden away in a “community” tab with barely any discoverability anymore. This is always the struggle on a third party site.

4. I hate censorship.

Into the Smoke is Teen 16/17+ and Demon of the Underground is R/18+. My comics aren’t even explicit, but I still can’t post my true, uncensored vision for either story on third party apps governed by Apple’s App Store and Visa/Mastercard’s tight content restrictions.

If webcomics exist exclusively on apps with heavy censorship, we’ll never have the diversity of storytelling and freedom of expression that’s necessary for groundbreaking or subversive art to happen. And that’s bad for everyone.

Adult brains need to engage with adult concepts. Difficult and triggering topics need to be explored in creative spaces. Artists need freedom to stretch their creative muscles without falling into the damaging patterns of self-censorship that come from having to tiptoe around arbitrary platform rules.

We can’t let the rules of like 3 American companies dictate what every webcomic reader around the world is allowed to read.

5. An independent website can’t easily be taken away from you.

Just make regular backups! You can always move to a new web host and redirect URLs if needed, and you won't lose your readers. On the other hand, you can easily lose the bulk of your audience on a third party site based on circumstances outside your control.

Let’s talk about Smack Jeeves, a formerly popular webcomic hosting site that was bought out and then shut down, leaving lots of cartoonists homeless. Or we can talk about the Tumblr NSFW purge of 2018, where I lost a huge chunk of my first webcomic’s following and most of my webcomic mutuals, even though my own account stayed within the rules. Or Musk buying Twitter, the platform where I once found my literary agent through a publishing event but now get no traction at all.

Have I noticed an uptick in engagement from my site?

I don’t have analytics on my site yet. But, up until a few days ago, that's where people were reading, thanks to my own efforts and the support of my comics friends and all of y’all who shared my ITS posts. (THANK YOU ALL!) I didn't have any discoverability on Webtoon or Tapas yet.

I got 10-15 new patrons between May 25 and June 5. Up until a few days ago, I even had more ITS newsletter subscribers than Webtoon subscribers.

What happened a few days ago is my Webtoon mirror suddenly blew up with 100+ new subs a day. I don’t know where I’m being featured, but I know I’m only getting those readers because Webtoon suddenly chose to grant me visibility. That can end just as instantly with an algorithm tweak or them deciding not to show my comic anymore. (When my first webcomic was in one of their pay programs in 2018, I went from $300 or $400/month to $0 overnight due to a policy change.) So I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, but I won't de-prioritize my website.

The new Webtoon readers are awesome and supportive, and I’m 100% thrilled to have them. But the Webtoon influx isn't resulting in a Patreon influx like my website launch did. I wouldn't expect it to, this early in the story. But it's consistent with my past experience polling my patrons: even when 50% of my readers came from the apps, 90% of patrons read on my website. (Your audience may vary.) And since I depend on crowdfunding for my comic, that's important to me.

Would I recommend going the route of having your own site?

For anyone who’s just testing the waters with webcomics, it might be overkill.

But for anyone who’s committed to their webcomic, I recommend having your own site AND mirroring on every third party site you can, provided you’re cool with their terms of service. It's important to meet readers where they are. Let those hosting sites lend you their readers. Some readers will even want to visit your home site where they can read ahead, read the uncensored version of your comic, get more info, or sign up for your newsletter.

Just remember, no one will discover your independent website all on their own. They’ll only find it through the work you put into promotion. But the reader that cares enough to come to your home site is a special type of reader.

So how do you get readers to visit an independent webcomic site?

Find your allies

These are people who work in similar areas as you who want to help you succeed, and whom you want to help succeed. Chat with each other, help each other, promote each other, boost each other, link to each other (psst, my links page just went live!), be there for each other - behind the scenes and in public.

God, I am SO bad at approaching people, but this is important, and not just for comics.

Be part of a community

Really, this is an extension of the above point. It's easier to find your allies if you're part of a community.

I’m a member of the Cartoonist Cooperative, and they’re a GREAT group of talented people all across the comics industry. The mission of @cartoonistcoop is to help create better conditions for comic workers through cooperation and collective action, and I’ve found so much help from them with Into the Smoke and comics as a whole. (JOIN! They're great!!)

The goal of the co-op isn't to drive traffic to your website. But being part of it has helped me at every level of crafting my comic, including promoting it and making it good enough that I can take pride in promoting it. And it's helped me ground myself as part of a community after I lost so much of mine in past years of burnout and platform enshittification.

Another option: @spiderforestcomics is a great webcomic collective full of supportive creators, and I believe they’re open to submissions till the end of June! They also have an awesome collaborative community mindset, and I've known some of their members for years.

Direct readers to your RSS feed and newsletter

Getting readers to your website is great, but they need to keep coming back for future updates, and it’s hard to remind them without an app notification. You may need to teach younger readers what RSS feeds are. Inoreader is a great RSS reader for the 2024 era.

The dreaded SEO

That’s Search Engine Optimization - optimizing your website so that people can easily find your comic via search engines. That’s a topic for another day, but feel free to research it!

Paid promo

This can be tricky, and I really only recommend spending promo money if you’re making a comic on a professional basis, because then it’s an investment you'll make back.

That said, Comicad.net is a great independent site where you can buy banner slots on other creators’ sites. I just ran small campaign myself. (And no, I won’t ever be offended if you outbid me!)

I haven’t bought any Tumblr Blaze slots, but I got BOPPed (blaze other people’s posts; apparently that’s what it’s called, lol) once on this account and once on a side blog, and both were highly impactful. (Thanks, friend!!) So I consider it a solid option, and it looks really cheap compared to other social media sites. (Never trust Meta.)

And where can you learn more about building a webcomic site?

I know you didn't ask, but if I'm gonna share all this, I might as well give folks a starting place to actually do the thing.

Now, I’m *bad* at offering cheap and easy web solutions. My specialty is hard and expensive. But my one piece of advice: PLEASE make your webcomic site mobile friendly for the current generation of readers! When we talk about barriers to entry, remember that more people have phones than computers, and many can't afford computers.

Anyway, here's some webcomic website resources from OTHER people!

The Cartoonist Co-op has LOTS of great resources on building webcomic sites! Several of them! Check them all out!

@screentonescast has a podcast episode on webcomic web design and one on RSS feeds!

@jeypawlik also has a great comic about how RSS feeds work.

So, congrats if you made it this far. Go make a website, y'all! And if you read any indie comics, go visit the creator's website!

#replies #asks #webcomic #webcomics #webcomic websites #comic resources #webcomic resources #long post #web design

148 notes · View notes

centrally-unplanned · 24 days

Text

Japanese website Forest Page is shutting down ~today, a tragic loss of "Heisei otaku memories", as so many are calling it. Launched in 2003, Forest Page was a "Geocities for mobile", a site that hosted user-created websites and gave them tools to allow non-coders to make them. In practice, it became one of the premiere places for fanfiction in Japan, with the stories hosted on author-created sites.

It wasn't quite the Fanfic.net of Japan, as for one the Japanese fandom just never centralized quite the way the 2000's western one did, instead being spread out over a half dozen or so sites. But additionally, it wasn't initially popular for fanfic so much as cell phone fanfiction, because in 2000's Japan the "cell phone novel" was a specific thing. These websites were being made for flip phones, not smartphones, and not only would people read them on those phones, they would often write them. None of that was very conducive to the creation and consumption of a "traditional" novel; so starting in the 2000's Japanese writers started making stories fit for the medium, namely:

Very short

A huge focus on dialogue and inner thoughts, with no/minimal description or scene detail

Using a limited POV of a specific character

Often employing the medium-as-message, like using emojis, structuring the story as IM's or emails, etc.

Also they all had huge gaps between lines, I'm not really sure what that is about:

Probably for readability on the phone given the small screen size? But it was absolutely part of the genre. A few of these novels actually made it big, got movie adaptations, people wrote articles about the "cultural phenomenon", it was the 2000's so Hiroki Azuma had a take on it of course, and so on. It slotted neatly into the vibe of the time of technology changing culture, paralleling discourse around otaku in the same era.

In fanfic those trends met up, and anyone familiar with fanfiction probably read that list of traits of the cellphone novel and thought "oh, this is perfect for fanfiction". Skipping out on description? I don't need it, I know what they look like already. Focus on conversation and POV? Perfect for shipping fics. Short lengths? Yeah, we are shortcutting to the good stuff, that is the point. Mirroring trends in the west, Forest Page's userbase was ~95% female, and the most common content on the site was romantic or edgy-dramatic stories in the franchises you'd expect. The closure page linked above actually summarizes the site's history by year, and lists the biggest fandoms:

Which is exactly what I would expect from a female otaku fanfiction website. Congrats to Pirates of the Caribbean for making it though, freeaboo's represent.

I do think the fact that the site was a website hoster as opposed to a fic hoster did align with the way the Japanese fandom was more "creator focused" and embraced the media mix more. There were "fic circles" a la doujin circles who made their own pages, people would make fanart, fan video games, and so own to host alongside it, and all of it was centralized to the creator; it made following them-as-a-person just a little bit easier. Most websites were simple text, but others did have the full Geocities experience:

Something that was somewhat common were basic visual novel concepts where the reader could make choices, or even insert their own name so they would be the "MC" of the story:

(Dream novels are in fact their own thing in Japan) My understanding is the site was quite popular through the 2000's and into the 2010's, though over time the "cellphone novel" as a concept fizzled out. People got smartphones, more people got PCs, and the constraints didn't make sense anymore - you can read ebooks and normal websites on your phone now after all. You can probably draw a line between these kind of stories and the webfiction/light novel boom of the late 2000's/2010's, something that was equally born on the internet, that streamlines the novel to "shortcut to the good stuff" but without the need to fit on a flip phone's screen. Though I will admit my own understanding of their histories shows them more as two sides of the same "youth demand for new literature" coin.

In 2017 Forest Page launched Forest Page Plus, a new service fully optimized for the smartphone era; but it did not transfer over all the old content, starting the clock ticking on the original Forest Page. My understanding is that in June they announced Forest Page was officially closing down; and from what I have gathered from reminiscing writers on twitter, they did not provide any easy, one-touch way to save any of the content, so people are archiving Wayback Machine links or sharing tips on how screenshot-save stories (I think the rub is they gave people a way to transfer content to FP+, but most don't want to do that, as places like Twitter & Pixiv are the content kings of this era).

As of tomorrow I would bet the large majority of the content will be gone; quite sad given both the quantity of stories there and how many got sometimes millions of readers. I am sure most of the biggest stories are archived at least, but particularly the early stuff was a very ephemeral genre, one that doesn't make sense to revisit once you aren't a 16 year old teen writing and reading fics on a flip phone in between classes. Which means another legion of the ghosts of the Wired is being born today. May we pour one out for a fellow online community that lived and died!

#forest page #otaku history #history of the internet #If some group did do a big archiving of the site that would be great to learn - I don't claim to be an expert on the site or anything

115 notes · View notes

zodiyack · 1 year

Text

Better For Me

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smoking, plotting

Words: 684

Request: Can you please do one for Tommy Shelby, where the reader is someone that he’s been pining over for as long as he can remember, but she’s never returned his feelings, she wants better for herself and desperately wants to escape Birmingham to have one, once he finds her plan he comes up with a scheme so that she will have no choice but to stay there with him (you can decide what that trap is)

Author’s Note: So I don’t exactly like the thought of her being 100% forced against her will, so I changed it a little bit to where she does indeed have feelings for him but never once said anything because she knew once she got involved with a gangster, her life would never be the same, and she wants better for herself. Hes also a little ooc.

YALL IVE EDITED THIS TWICE BECAUSE FUCKING MOBILE TUMBLR- DECIDED TO PUT MY ENDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BEGINNING.

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

Taglist: @simonsbluee, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox, @marquelapage, @i-love-superhero @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @jenepleurepasbaby, @peakyxtommy, @babylooneytoonz, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @darling-i-read-it, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @fandom-puff

Her bags were stuffed to bursting with her belongings. She frantically packed the last of it in a barely spacious case. A knock at her front door scared her as it broke her from her hurry. She wasn't surprised when she saw the Blinder on her doorstep, only nervous.

"You're packing?" His cold voice inquired.

"Yes." She responded simply. Y/N avoided giving him too much detail. After all, he was who she was running from.

"Why can't you stay?"

She sighed heavily. "We've been over this Thomas. I need something else. I want a better life. I don't want to be in Birmingham forever." It was part of the truth. Really, she couldn't be around the violence, the theft, the gambling, the Peaky Blinders. Tommy.

She winced slightly. "No, I need to do this myself."

"I'll take you places. We can explore the world together, love." He chuckled lightly. "I promise."

Her words seemed to set him off. "Why? Can't I do anything to convince you to stay?"

"No!" She couldn't stop herself before she shrieked out the word. Covering her mouth in shock, she collected herself before speaking again. "I'm leaving, Thomas, and that's that."

"At least tell me why, love." He persisted. His hand reached for Y/N's. He definitely noticed something was wrong when she swiped her hand away. "Is it because of me?"

Yes.

"No, it's not because Of anyone! I just can't be here anymore. Tommy, I want to experience more than this place. I want a better life. We've been over this before, a thousand times." She huffed as she stuffed the rest of the items into her bag. “Please, just leave me to finish this up. I’ll stop by before I leave.” She turned away and waited for him to leave, the door clicking shut behind him.

When Tommy went outside, he spotted a copper doing his usual patrol. He nodded at him, gaining his attention. “I need your assistance.”

“What is it Mr. Shelby?”

He lit a cigarette, looking off into the distance. "Y/N L/N. If she tries to leave, prevent her in whatever way possible. Keep her alive, and inside of Birmingham." Tommy ordered, "by order of the Peaky Blinders. Alright?"

The copper nodded, "Yes Mr. Shelby. I'll make sure to it that everyone knows."

The door of the betting shop slammed shut after being aggressively swung open. Heels clicked angrily against the floor. Tommy didn't even have to lift his head to know who it was.

"You fucking bastard. You told them to keep me here?!" She shouted. Her brows were furrowed and her expression looked full of rage. "You fucking asshole!"

"You wouldn't listen to me." He kept his composure.

"I was leaving because of you!"

The truth shocked him, but he didn't let it show. Instead, Tommy stared at her with a stone facade. "I love you."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I know, Thomas. You've made it clear. You've made it clear for the past five years of our life. But I don't want that. Not for me, I need better."

"Better?" He tsked. "I could give you everything."

"That's the thing, Tommy! You're involved in so much, even being friends with you and your family, I worry for my life. Your morals, they make me wish I didn't feel this way about you. My morals, are what are telling me I can better my life. They are telling me to leave rather than get involved in this kind of life."

"Well, now you can discard those morals. Stay with me. Besides, it's not as though you have much choice." He quirked a brow, referencing the whole reason she was there in the first place.

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned around, clicking back to the door. She stopped in front of it with a pause. "I may love you, Tommy. But even if you make me stay, I will never get involved with you."

"Even if you make me stay..." She turned her head to him. "Not now," she faced the door again, holding onto the handle with a tight grip, "not ever."

#Tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #reader insert #x reader #zodiyack #peaky blinder imagine

508 notes · View notes

leennaan · 8 months

Text

Alessia Russo // Take on the world pt2

Here it is. Part two of „Take on the world“

Pt1 can be found here

Warnings: mentions of death and mental health problems. It’s not very detailed but it is mentioned so if that triggers you don’t read it. Take care of yourself.

With that being said, enjoy reading💕

———————————————————————

A few weeks had gone by since Alessia and Lotte had left the states, but the Corona situation had only worsened since then.

You left Chaphill a week after the two English girls to go back to your family in New York.

Alessia and you called each other daily. Sometimes you called her in the morning, and you would make breakfast for yourself and your little sister while she ate lunch or did her exercises. Sometimes it would already be night in England, and you would talk about your day while the blonde would just listen to you until she fell asleep.

The distance was hard for you both, as you were used to being in close proximity 24/7, but you managed.

But it got harder and harder when your girlfriend called you less and less. When you did talk to each other, you could sense that something was wrong, but you didn’t want to pressure Lessi.

When Alessia hadn’t talked to you in over two days with not even a text, you got worried.

You were scared that you had done anything. That she didn’t love you anymore. But also, maybe something had happened. Whenever the two of you talked, she looked drained with swollen and red-rimmed eyes. She looked like she had cried a lot, and it made you sick that you didn’t know what had happened to her.

So on the second day, she hadn’t called or answered your text, so you decided to call Lotte.

„Hey Y/N. What happened? You look like you cried."

Lotte had answered the second you dialed her number.

A son escaped your lips, and Lotte was instantly concerned.

„Calm down. Talk to me. What’s going on?"

„Lessi, she, I think she, she wants to break up with me."

You sobbed.

„Lessi wants what? Why would you say that? That girl is heads over heels in love with you.“

Lotte looked at you like you had lost your head or something. A few days ago, you would have believed her in an instant, but now you're not so sure.

"She hasn’t called me or answered my text in the last two days. That’s so unlike her. She called me even two or three times a day not many days ago, and then it got less and less, and the texts got shorter and shorter, and now she stopped altogether.“

You explained to Lotte, who looked more and more worried.

„Y/n I don’t think that that has anything to do with you. She hasn’t talked to me either, and the last time we talked, she looked so tired and sad."

Now you felt really bad. You had noticed that something was up with your girlfriend, but instead of trying to help her, you got stuck in your own head.

"You are right, Lotts. She looked like she had cried a lot when we last talked.“

„You know what? I will drive over tomorrow and look at how she is doing. I call you when I know more."

„Thank you, Lotts. I feel so stupid. I should have released that something wasn’t right. I wish I was with you guys. I want to help Lessi, but I feel like I am too far away.“

It took you a few hours to comprehend what Lotte had said.

You really felt dumb. The way you noticed her red and swollen eyes, her small voice when she talked, the way she seemed to be miles away—never once had you thought about why she was like that. Your mind had gone straight to thinking she would break up with you.

Now angry at yourself, you threw your mobile phone across the room, only to scramble to your feet and quickly make your way over to it when it started ringing.

You looked at your screen, which read “star girl." Stunned, you looked at the clock. It was around 3 a.m. in the morning in London. Now concerned about Alessia, you quickly accepted the face-time call.

You could barely make Alessia out in the darkness of her room, but you could definitely hear her sniffling.

“Lessi Baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, concerned, but she didn’t answer you.

"Baby, you scare me. You can talk to me; you know that, right?” It was silent for a few seconds, but it felt like hours until the blonde quietly started to talk.

"He, he is gone, Y/N."

Immediately, your heart sank. "They said he was better; they said he would be released soon. I don’t know what to do; y/n, he is gone.“

You watched as Alessia started to cry, and you wished nothing more than to be there with her. To be able to hold her. You knew she was talking about her grandpa. The situation in Italy was still tense. A lot of people were dying because of COVID, but until now, no one close to you was affected. Now that had changed, and you couldn’t imagine how Alessia must feel.

„Baby I am so sorry. I wish I could hold you. Is there anything I can do for you?“ You asked, now hating this whole situation even more.

Alessia's blue eyes were chiming with tears, and you had to fight back your own. Seeing Alessia like this broke you.

„Can you just talk to me? I haven’t slept since yesterday, when we got the call. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face."

„Of course I can. Anything specific?“ Your girlfriend shook her head.

„My parents are thinking of adopting a dog. They said that with me and also my sister going to college next year, they will be lonely. I felt betrayed that now that I am out of the house, they want a dog. You know I wanted one since I was little.“

And so you talked to her for the next few hours. Here and there, Alessia would hum or nod her head at you to show that she was listening. Slowly, you noticed her eyelids dropping and watched her fall into a restless sleep.

You stayed on the phone even after she fell asleep. As you watched her, a lone tear made its way down your cheek.

A few hours later, you woke up feeling slightly disoriented. You grabbed your phone from where it lay next to you.

Alessia had sent you a thank-you text and had wished you a good day.

That’s how the next few days went. At first, Alessia called you after she couldn’t fall asleep for hours, but you couldn’t see her struggling even more, so you started to call her around six p.m. London time. Often, Alessia just wanted to hear your voice, and you obliged, telling her about your day. One day you even played on your guitar after what felt like years. You started playing when you were little, but it got less and less in recent years. Now you were singing for her songs that you thought she liked or that she requested.

She didn’t know that you could play or sing, but she loved it, and so did you.

It kind of got therapeutic for you too, and slowly you started playing for yourself again, even when you were not talking to Alessia.

When the summer neared, you got increasingly excited.

Alessia was feeling better; at least that was what she told you.

You could still see the pain in her eyes, and you knew that she wasn’t as well as she said, but she was slowly getting there. Her smiles became more real again, and you knew she slept better because the begs under her eyes got less prominent.

Around early June, you went back to campus, and this time you took your guitar with you.

Over the last few weeks, you even started to write little songs. Nothing was good in your opinion, but it helped you sort out your thoughts.

Alessia and Lotte called you one afternoon when you were sitting in your dorm room with your guitar in hand, and they were both really buzzing. You felt the good energy as soon as you accepted the call.

„We are coming back!“ Was the first thing that Allesia shouted.

„Wait what?“ You asked, perplexed.

„Yes, we just booked our flight for next week. The restrictions aren’t as bad as before, and we want to get back as soon as possible. I know Blondie over here has missed you an awful lot, but I missed you almost as much," answered Lotte, and you couldn’t help the big grin that spread over your face when Alessia punched Lotte lightly on the shoulder.

„No way, guys, I am so excited. When are you back? I’ll pick you up from the airport. I can’t believe it. I missed you both. Campus and everything just isn’t the same without you Brits.“ You laughed.

That’s how you found yourself in the airport in North Carolina only five days later, impatiently waiting for the two girls to arrive.

And with almost one and a half hours of delay, they landed. As soon as you saw Alessia, you couldn’t help yourself, and you sprinted right into her arms. She had dropped her luggage to be able to hoist you up into her arms. You wrapped your legs around her waist, clinging to her like a koala.

„Oh how I have missed you." Whispered Lessi into your ear, not letting go of you. You answered by kissing her. It felt so good to have her lips on yours again.

After what felt like hours but in reality were only a few seconds, Lotte interrupted you two. „I know you guys love each other and missed each other so much, but I also missed you. Can I at least get a hug?“

Both Lessi and you couldn’t help but laugh before your girlfriend let you down, and you hugged Lotte. „I missed you too, Lotts.“

The next few weeks were the best you had for a while. Being able to spend time with your girlfriend made you extremely happy, and you could see that Alessia was feeling better too.

Of course, there were days when she was feeling down, but being able to just hug you was enough to make her better.

On days she was feeling especially down, you would get out your guitar and play something for her. You even taught her a few accords.

But soon you noticed that not all things were back to perfect.

At training, there was uncertainty about stuff and players. No one knew what the season would bring.

It wasn’t decided whether the games would be held as normal or if there would even be a college cup.

Training was hard if no one knew what they trained for.

You noticed that Lotte and Alessia were not happy with the situation.

„When we don’t have games, we are losing our opportunities.“ Said Lotte one evening when you were sitting together with the whole team. Of course, she was right. Without games to watch for national or club coaches, they would lose their spot on the national team and chances for a professional contract after college.

„I talked with the guffer today. He said he has no idea what’s going to happen this season. I also asked my brother what I should do. He recommended looking for offers back in England.“ Said Alessia while she was cuddled by your side. You didn’t want the girls to leave again, but you knew the situation would probably be the best. „What about you guys? Do you consider playing outside the U.S.?“ asked Lois. You watched as your friends answered. „I don’t know. My dream was always to play in the NWSL. It doesn’t really matter to me anyway. I‘ve got two years of college left, and my mother would literally disown me if I dropped out.“ The fact that you were a year younger than most of your close friends and girlfriend just hit you. Knowing that you would be left behind for a year even without this whole Corona thing going on.

Alessia noticed that your mind was starting to wander. Your habit of overthinking is getting the better of you again. So you hadn’t noticed her standing up. Only once did she pull you towards her, carefully maneuvering you out of the room.

„Baby breath. Breath. I am here. Follow my breathing. That’s it, baby. Slowly. Yes. There you are.“ Slowly, your breathing settled down.

„I don’t want you to leave. Not again.“ You whispered, and Alessia pulled you against her. Wrapping her strong arms around your body. „No matter what. I'll always love you. I know it was hard for us both, but we can do it again. I will visit whenever I can, and I promise you I will always be one call away. I know it may not seem like this right now, but I know for sure that you and I are forever.“ She kissed you hard, like a promise.

Your eyes were still closed when she pulled away slightly.

„I know we are still young…“ You felt her move away from your body and watched her get a jewelry box out. You opened your mouth, but she interrupted you. "Don't worry, I am not proposing. At least not yet.“ You couldn’t help but chuckle.

"It's a promise ring. I promise that I will never desert you. I promise that one day I will go down on that knee. A promise of a future together. "I promise that even though there might be thousands of kilometers between us, I will always be there for you.“ Tears streamed down your face as you watched her. Heart racing, you put your hand out for her to put the ring on your finger. „Not yet, baby. There is something on the inside I want you to look at."

Carefully, you grabbed the ring. Written in cursive were the words ‚We will take on the world‘ a sentence that both of you had repeatedly said to each other.

„I love you so much.“ You said this, grabbing her face with your hands and kissing her hard.

———————————————————————

I am already working on Pt 3 which will also be the final part

Always open to feedback ☺️

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso #unc tar heels #unc Reader #alessia russo #lotte wubben moy #woso x reader #Tar Heels #woso imagine

170 notes · View notes

lisaloutwo · 1 month

Note

Seeing what you've done to yourself- how you've grown your body, piles on so many pounds of flab, stuffed yourself from someone so small to the massive woman you are today- it is fucking amazing. Your dedication to endlessly fattening yourself is a dream to witness, and it could not be more apparent that you are addicted to it far more than any of your admirers. I can't wait until you do become the immobile blob you aspire to when your mind is buried deepest in your fantasies, and I am so excited to watch as your mobility falters and disappears, caught on camera not just for us but so that you can get off on it yourself, even when you've outgrown the ability to reach your own clit.

You're already so horny seeing the difference in your body as you've gained. How wild will it drive you to rewatch the video of not being able to fit in your car anymore? Of when a scale supposed to handle up to 700 pounds reads ERROR because you're over its capacity? Or the moment of realization that you can't get up under your own power anymore?

This guy gets it 😏

53 notes · View notes

kaemixx0 · 3 months

Text

I'm bored so why not some tips that have helped me (:

☆ The motivation is strong, but the discipline is more; You have to resist even if you don't want to. Search thinsp0, look in the mirror, think about the progress you've made!

☆ At first it may sound difficult, but once you fall in love with the feeling of being hungry, of being tired, of feeling like you haven't eaten enough, everything gets better, as I said, it's about discipline more than motivation.

☆ Drink a lot of water; that helps me a lot with the craving, feel full and just for distraction. Although I don't know how healthy I am in this regard, I usually drink more than two liters a day :)

☆ Don't forget your goals. Every time you feel hungry, think about all the previous times you have felt it and that didn't mean you ate, you have to be in control, it is your decision.

☆ I don't know how good this is, but I know it's horrible that you like sweets so much and can't eat them because you're ⭐️ving. Resist as long as you can, but if you really crave it, you should eat a small amount, enjoy it, and forget about it. Once in a long time of effort will not be bad, is much better than the frustration make u binge.

Personally, there is always one day a week when I usually eat more than my limit because family gatherings, I have to eat enough so they don't worry, so you too and could take it as a meta day –I have read that it helps maintain in control of your metabolism– and most importantly don't immerse yourself in guilt and frustration about this!

When you eat more than your limit bc you went out with friends, or your family, or maybe you had a good time with someone you love, forget it, our little happiness matters; tomorrow you will do it better.

Adding more:

☆ Download games that keep you focused; I usually play cod mobile, sometimes also while I walk around my house to increase my steps taken haha.

If your parents / family worry about u / u are afraid that they will notice:

☆Of course, if you can, try to eat before or after ur family so they don't notice how little you eat.

☆ Distribute your meals well according to your calorie restriction and how many times or how little your family allows you to eat, for example; I eat two meals a day, my limit is 500 kcal, so I try to make my breakfast very low in kcal because lunch is prepared by my mom and it usually has a lot of calories —you will realize that to achieve this you have to start observing and planning more, hun.

☆ Personally; I usually tell them that I want to take care of myself, being healthy and that I will not eat ultra-processed foods, junk food, etc., they understand that; I don't tell them that I want to lose weight, just want to eat healthy.

☆ Fix your attitude; Idk about you, but after the first week I radically start ⭐️ving myself, they noticed it by my mood; I was constantly irritated, upset and looked very tired, now I try to pretend normality.

☆ It helps me a lot to be active at home, at least now that I'm on vacation; I mean, there are some chores that I do every day —it helps me stay active and my parents think I'm fine :)

☆ In my case, I lost weight in a very short time, it wasn't much but it was noticeable, my parents noticed it, so I decided not to wear tight clothes anymore, normally only oversized t-shirts and loose shorts, that way, they won't notice so easily when I lose weight quickly and they won't worry.

♡ I hope this helps you even a little, stay safe

#vent #tw 3d vent #tw weighloss #ana y mia #tw ana mia #tw ed but not sheeran #3d diet #low cal restriction #im just a girl #⭐️rving #an4r3xia #an4buddy #low cal diet #tw skipping meals #skinnnyy #light as a feather #tw an0rexia #ana is my friend #pro for me not for thee

65 notes · View notes

juniperskye · 4 months

Text

Why are you in my head? Pt. 5

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4**

Word count: 1893

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, mention of hospitals, mention and brief description of childbirth, mention of birth defects (CHD), mention of surgery/aftermath, no use of y/n, fem reader, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Ughhh, why isn’t he answering?” You shouted into the living room.

Now is not the time for you to be this busy Eddie!!!

You thought about it a little while longer, debating calling Eddie again or calling someone else. That was when you decided to call Wayne.

“Hello?” Wayne answered gruffly.

“Hey Wayne, are you uh, are you busy right now?” You asked.

“Hey darlin’ is everything okay?” He questioned.

“Yeah, well not actually, Eddie isn’t answering his phone and I ugh…I need to go to the hospital.” You rambled.

“Okay, you hang tight, I will be there soon! Keep calling Eddie okay?”

With that, Wayne hung up the phone and made his way to the truck, ignoring most traffic laws in hopes to get to you as soon as he, legally, can.

Eddie Munson if you do not pick up your phone I SWEAR TO ALL THINGS HOLY!!!

Shit, shit, shit!!! Is it time? I’m on my way!!!

The last seven years had been a whirlwind. Eddie had proposed to you six months after you heard him tell Wayne he was going to, that was 1986.

It was now 1993, and things were completely different than when you met Eddie. Since then, your parents had retired and started going on cruises, which is where they happened to be now. Wayne still worked at the factory but had cut back on his hours to help you and Eddie out.

Eddie got a job at a local body shop, he had stopped dealing drugs because it wasn’t safe anymore, given the expansion of your family. You had gone to school and were now working as a nurse, taking after your mom.

Your parents had surprised you and Eddie after you got married by buying you a house, they had sold theirs and bought a trailer, close to Wayne’s seeing as they were travelling so much. The house they bought you was modest, a one story, three-bedroom, two bathroom. It had a nice grassy yard that allowed you to host your friends should you choose. It also had a basement which was perfect for Eddie to transform into the ultimate DND room.

You had been pregnant at the wedding, not that either of you had been aware of that fact. You had found out about a month later and in the fall of 1987 your first child was born.

Eddie and you had two beautiful children, a son, Ronnie 6, and a daughter, Vivian 3. Both are named after members of Dio. You were hesitant at first, but after Eddie really got you into metal music (especially Dio) you caved.

Which leads you to now, spring 1993, you were currently in labor with your twins. Naturally Eddie wasn’t answering his phone, he hadn’t even wanted to get a mobile phone, but you had convinced him when you found out the potential risks of a multiples pregnancy. With your parents on a ship somewhere in the Mexican Riviera, you had no other choice but to call Wayne.

A knock on the door shook you out of your thoughts. You waddled your way over to the door, just as Wayne let himself in.

“Thank you for coming Wayne!” You huffed.

Eddie you had better be at the hospital for this birth!

“Of course, kiddo. Where are the rugrats?” Wayne asked.

“They’re with Steve and Nancy today.” You explained as you gathered your things.

I’m on my way! Please be okay!

“You got everything you need?” Wayne asked.

“Uh yeah…” looking around one last time, “I think that’s everything.” You nodded.

Wayne reached for your bag and led you out to his truck. He opened your door for you and helped you up into the truck, refusing to leave your side until you were settled and buckled in. He finally made his way around to the driver’s side and started your journey to the hospital.

“Any word from the boy yet?” Wayne questioned.

“Not via phone if that’s what you’re asking” you took a sharp breath in “I can hear him internally panicking though.” You huffed out a laugh, trying to control your breathing.

As Wayne wheeled you into the hospital, a horde of your coworkers made their way to you. They were congratulating you, helping you get checked in, ensuring you were okay and honestly it was becoming a bit overwhelming. All you wanted was for Eddie to be by your side and for these babies to exit your womb.

Where are you?

I’m here, I’m here. Please don’t have the babies without me!

An OB nurse and Wayne walked with you to your room, Wayne began setting your things up around the room while the nurse got your vitals and those of the babies. While she did this, you could hear shoes scuffing along the linoleum floors.

“I’m here!” Eddie hollered, out of breath.

“Glad you could make it.” You bit. “Sorry, it’s the contractions talking.”

“It’s okay baby!” Eddie leaned over and kissed your forehead.

He walked over to assist Wayne in setting up the rest of your things. The two of you had made a list and were sure to pack all the things you wished you had during the last two births.

“I um, I got everything I need here. I’m just going to go get your doctor and I will be right back.” The nurse expressed wearily before making her exit.

She clearly didn’t read the chart and is concerned about Toni’s CHD.

Eddie let out a slight chuckle which caused Wayne to shoot him a questioning glance. Wayne let Eddie know he was going to go get a coffee and that he’d be in the waiting room. He also informed you guys that he would call your parents and your friends to inform them you were in labor.

“Hey you two! You ready to have these babies?” Your doctor asked as she entered your room.

“Hey Dr. Evans, and yes I am so ready for these two to be out of me!” You sighed.

“Well good, because by the looks of it, you shouldn’t have to wait too much longer.” Dr. Evans explained. “Also, I am sorry about the nurse earlier, she’s new, she doesn’t know you work here, or that you guys are more than aware of Toni’s congenital heart disease.”

“It’s okay!” You released a shaky breath as another contraction rolled through you.

“Can you explain it all to me again? I know we’ve gone over it, I just, I want to hear it again.” Eddie pleaded.

“Of course, so Toni has a tiny hole in her heart wall, so once she is out, our pediatric surgeon will take her to the operating room and repair it! Once it is all fixed up, she will be in the NICU for a little while, just while she heals and then she will be all set to go home and grow up! She will have to have regular checkups, but she’ll lead a relatively normal life.” Dr. Evans explained.

A hole in her heart, Jesus. She’s not even born and already her life is hard.

“Eds, honey she’s going to be okay. This is sadly more common than you’d think.”

Eddie placed his hand on your shoulder, appreciating your support. You looked up at him as another contraction ripped through you. You took a few more deep breaths, glancing over to Dr. Evans. She checked you once more and informed you that it was time.

Everything happened seemingly all at once. First out was Ozzy, he was taken over to be cleaned up and measured, next was Toni who was almost immediately taken to her surgery. Dr. Evans stitched you up (birthing twins was no joke…neither was the tearing that occurred) and congratulated you both. She also let you know that someone would be by to keep you updated on Toni’s status.

Eddie was sitting in the recliner holding Ozzy while you rested. Steve and Nancy were on their way with your kids, excited to meet the new additions to your family. Robin and Dustin called to let you know they’d be by soon and they were bringing you some real food.

A nurse stopped in to let you know that Toni was still in surgery, but it was going well, when you heard tiny feet slapping against the floor, growing in volume.

“Mommy!” Ronnie yelled, running to your bedside.

“Hey bug.” You reached your hand down to brush his curls back out of his face.

“Sorry! He’s so fast!” Steve apologized.

Steve lifted Ronnie and placed him at the foot of your bed, all the while Nancy was walking in with Vivian, who was fast asleep in her arms. She smiled at you and wished you congratulations and when her gaze landed on Eddie, she couldn’t help but coo at the sleeping baby resting on his chest.

Robin and Dustin entered moments later with a pizza, some soda, and a few gift bags in hand.

“Hey! Any word on Toni yet?” Robin asked as she wrapped you in a hug then made her way to poke at Ronnie, who burst into a fit of giggles.

“Uh not yet, the nurse just let us know that her surgery was going well.” Eddie explained.

The night seemed to drag, the food and good company was a nice distraction from the fact that your daughter’s tiny heart was being worked on. You were thankful for your friends, especially that they’d all been so willing to hang around until you heard more.

“Hey there” Dr, Evans popped her head in your room “I just wanted to let you know that Toni is out of surgery, she did great and is on her way to the NICU now! I can take you both over there if you’d like to see her?”

You glanced at your friends who all nodded in unison, their way of silently telling you to go and that they could watch Ronnie and Vivian. You smiled at them and allowed Eddie to help you into a wheelchair. Dustin gently handed Ozzy back to you and then Dr. Evans escorted you to the NICU.

“So don’t be alarmed, she’s hooked up to a few machines, but it is just to monitor her heart function and her vitals.” Dr. Evans stated, more so for Eddie than you.

Eddie pushed your chair over to the incubator that currently housed your daughter. You looked in at her, she was so tiny, there was a small bandage placed on her chest. Looking over at Dr. Evans, she nodded signaling it was okay for you to open the side panel and hold your baby.

You reached your left hand in while cradling Ozzy in your right. Eddie made his way around to the other side and reached in to hold Toni’s other hand.

She’s so beautiful, they both are.

You’re so beautiful. Thank you for making me a dad, again.

A tear slipped down your cheek. You were so incredibly happy to have Eddie by your side and four beautiful children. You couldn’t wait to be by their sides as they found love the same way you had with Eddie.

This life was such a gift, and you were so grateful for all of it.

Thank you for bringing light into my life. Thank you for loving me.

Fin

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive @silky-luxe

113 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Graceland Too

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: okay but I kinda want to write this into a series (gif by @loregifs)

Summary: “I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough.” - Seventy Years of Sleep #4. nikka ursula aka Miller/Williams family time plus one [1.1k]

Warnings: Pregnancy talk, tooth rotting fluff, can be read as an additional part to What Sarah Said and Sweet Jane but can also be read as a stand-alone, that’s all

"How's are the Miller's doing today?" He asks as he walks into your shared room. You're laid on your side, counting baby kicks obsessively and trying not to fall asleep. It's still the middle of the day, and your sleep is already fucked. Rest has not gotten easier as the weeks have passed, but it feels especially impossible now at thirty-four weeks.

It's been a relatively normal pregnancy. Your morning sickness returned with a vengeance and got so bad that you had to go to the hospital to get fluids because you were throwing up so much. It's subsided a little in your second and third trimesters, but even the slightest smell can make you nauseous for the rest of the day. Poor Joel had to switch soaps three times before finding something that didn't agitate either of you. These days, you're exhausted, sore, and ready not to be pregnant anymore.

"This one," you point to your swollen stomach. "Has been kicking my ass all day. I barely got out of bed before I had to lie back down." You sigh. Joel kisses you before leaning down and kissing your belly.

"You be nice to your mama," he says, and you laugh when the baby kicks in defiance. You grab his hand and place it where you just felt them, and he smiles when the baby kicks at him, too. "Stubborn."

"Wonder where they get it from." You hum, and he smiles. For a while, you two lay together, feeling for tiny movements as the sun shines high in the sky. He lights up each time the baby moves against his hand, which is more than enough to tolerate the constant kicks in your ribs. He loves this baby so much already.

"You're in the home stretch now," he says. "Any last guesses on what you think it'll be?"

"I still think it's a girl. I'd be shocked if we had a boy."

"I think it's a boy."

"Because you want a boy or because you actually think it's a boy?"

"Excuse me, I do think it's a boy, and I'd be just as happy if we had a girl," he says as he runs his hand over the hill of your belly. "You're carrying lower. My mama always used to say that was a good way to tell what someone was having."

"Alright, I'll let you have it. Ellie thinks it's a boy, too. She said she just felt it," you look down and poke at your stomach. "Whoever you end up being, can you come out soon? I'm tired."

"Couple more weeks."

"Easy for you to say."

"That's true," he says as you push the hair out of his eyes. "D'you think we're ready?"

"I think it's a little late to ask that, cowboy," you laugh, and he rolls his eyes. "But, yes, I think we're ready." You, Ellie, and Joel spent weeks converting one of the old rooms in the house into a nursery. At first, they were fine with you helping, but as the weeks passed and you got bigger, they put their foot down. Even if you picked up an empty box or a paintbrush, Ellie would yell from the other side of the room and take it from your hands. When they painted, they barely let you in the house because they thought the fumes would harm you and the baby. You've had to remind them that you've been the one to save their asses multiple times, and you can still do things even though you're pregnant, but you might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

Joel and Ellie built most of the nursery together— everything from the crib to the rocking chair to the space mobile hanging from the ceiling. They painted the walls a pretty yellow, making the dusty, old room fit for the newest Miller. They painted a growth chart by the door and even marked their own heights and ages in pencil on the wall. You came in when you heard them giggling, and then they insisted on marking how far your bump came out on the wall, too. You couldn't say no when they looked at you with those stupid grins and big eyes. Ellie took a polaroid of you standing in front of the chart as Joel pressed a paint-stained hand to your stomach and kissed you.

Seeing her so excited about the new baby made both of you feel so much better. She's talked nonstop about everything she wants to do with the baby pretty much since she found out you were pregnant. You were unsure how she would react since she's been your only priority for years now, and she's getting older, but she's ecstatic. She held your hair when you woke up throwing up, and Joel was on patrol. She made you soup and reminded you to take the way-too-expensive prenatal vitamins. She even learned to play lullabies on her guitar to sing to the new baby. She'd be a great mom.

"I'm so excited to meet them," Joel says softly, and you smile.

"Me too," You say. You lean in to kiss him and barely graze his lips when the baby kicks in Joel's direction. You try to ignore it and kiss him again when they do it again. They kick you hard enough that Joel feels the baby's foot against his hand, and you both laugh. "I can't believe we're getting cockblocked by a fetus."

"How do you think you got here?" Joel asks loudly, looking down at your stomach.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ellie asks as she walks into your room, and you laugh.

"Every time I try to kiss Joel, the baby kicks at him," you say. She gives you that classic Ellie stink face, and you hold out your hand. "C'mere." You urge. She hesitates before walking over to your side of the bed. You take her hand and let her feel the baby's movements, making her smile.

"That's so weird," she says but doesn't move her hand. She lingers, having a semi-private moment with the baby as they turn and wiggle against each of their hands. They are moving back and forth between Joel and Ellie, like they can't decide who they want to hang out with, but they want to be involved. Ellie crouches down next to the bed, resting her chin on her hand, and Joel traces little patterns into the fabric of your shirt. Slowly, the baby settles down and falls asleep, their movements less crazy but still sporadic.

Ellie and Joel come to the same conclusion but don't move. They stay there with you and the baby as the day rages on outside. Let it rage, you think. I have everything I need right here.

🍓

tag list: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

#he’s so girldad your honor #joel and ellie #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us x reader #ellie williams #joel tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #ellie williams fluff #only happy endings here bitches #look for the light

457 notes · View notes

rere9500-18 · 2 months

Text

Ninjago Dragons Rising !!SPOILERS!! (Idk how to do the ‘Read more’ cut thing on mobile, sooo)

It’s just..

Even when they were younger, Nya’s always been protective of Jay when she had to be. She was there when he needed her, even in the most dire times.

So, to see Jay acting like this.. knowing this isn’t like Jay at all, harms her more than anyone will ever know. Because she knows her best friend like she knows herself. Jay’s changed.. and Nya isn’t sure if it’s due to the Merge or due to Ras.

Even when Nya won, you know she felt terrible. Because like Lloyd said, they may have won the battle, but they lost Jay in the process. He still put that forsaken mask on and now, they have no idea if he’s even THERE anymore. Not even a small fraction of him.

The Ninja got to see their brother again.. but at what cost? Because will they ever truly see the real him again?

Just.. one more thing.

“Which we will, right?? Jay needs us. Not only has he lost his memories, he used the Gong of Shattering. We have to find a way to heal his inner goodness. We have to save him.” … “Before everything changed, Master Wu told me only unity can save us. Without Jay, we aren’t united.” -Nya, after being told that Ras wants them to follow Jay to get them out of the tournament

The way Nya valued her friendship with Jay more than a tournament will always be on my mind. Forever.

#this is for those who actually like jay and nya being siblings/platonic!#so no complaints #ninjago #ninjago nya #ninjago jay #ninjago dragons rising

48 notes · View notes

ariesqueencobra · 7 months

Text

what we used to be | Vl

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're going on a first date! Queue training montage, you make Eli a get well soon card, and you're at the movies!

Warnings: kissing, dangerous activties, mentions of rabies, shots, and hospitals, injury

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I'm gonna hop on here and post this real quick. It's a cute chapter and I like it! I already know what direction I want this series to go, but the storyline I have in my head might change if this would be considered an insert fic. I'll probably ask for opinions in the future cause I really don't want it to not be an insert fic so be on the look out for that! I also want to stress the importance of reblogging fics, on mobile you can hold down the two arrows button and quick reblog this post so that other people can see my work! Just liking this story won't do anything to help me as a writer, if you really enjoyed reading it, just do the simple thing and reblog! It would also be appreciated if you commented! Doing those things tell me people want to read this story and want more, which will encourage me to keep writing!

Thank you to those who already reblog and comment, I see you and I love you all for it!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

“Eli, where are we going?” You chuckled, holding onto his hand as he led you through the forest.

The leaves crunched under your feet and the breeze made you shiver so you were grateful you listened to him when he told you to bring a sweater for your first date. Though, you still weren’t sure where that would be or what it was.

You hoped it was romantic, this being your first-ever date after all, but when you almost slipped on some mud, you weren’t too sure about it anymore.

“Trust me, you’re gonna love it,” he grinned, holding you tighter and closer.

You smiled, watching him as he kept his eyes ahead until you turned to see what he was staring at, that’s when you noticed as well. The gasp you let out as you made it onto a dock, the beautiful lake expanding outward, and the trees with orange and yellow leaves made such a breathtaking view.

“You like it?” He asked.

“It’s beautiful,” you shook your head in disbelief, sitting on the edge and letting your feet dangle over the water. “We used to come here all the time, I forgot how amazing the view was.”

“I figured it’d be the perfect spot for our first date,” he smiled, sitting down next to you. “Like old times, but now we can make new memories.”

“So we’re having a picnic?” You beamed, realizing the plastic bag in his hand did hold some purpose.

He handed you the bag and you set it in your lap, rifling through the numerous snacks you loved.

“All your favorites. And your art supplies, I knew you would love to recreate that painting you have in your room,” he suggested.

The scenery was a notable piece in your room, a small collection you had of various locations in the Valley. It was the first collection you ever painted so it was sweet that Eli knew you’d appreciate an opportunity to update a piece.

“Did I ever tell you you’re the best boyfriend ever?” You reached over to kiss his cheek. You were about to reach for your art supplies in your bag when he stopped you, moving your head to kiss you on the lips. It was a long, heartfelt kiss, making you giddy. “Eli,” you giggled pulling away, unable to help your laughter.

“You know you can call me Hawk, right?” He pinched your chin lightly.

You nodded. “But you’re Eli to me,” you explained, gaze softening.

“Yeah but Hawk’s way more badass,” he shrugged.

“I think Eli is just as badass,” you smirked, leaning into his space.

“I guess just you then,” he gave in. “You can call me whatever you want, babe,” he chuckled, pecking your lips one more time.

You both stayed on that dock for hours until your dad was calling for you to come home. The date was simple and small but it was the most memorable night you’ve had with Eli, your boyfriend.

You were standing in the middle of a junkyard, unsure what the purpose of your being here was. But you stood next to Eli and Aisha as you watched as Sensei opened a beer can, chugging it before he wiped his mouth, glancing down at all of you.

“You’ve trained hard. You’ve gotten stronger, tougher, faster. You’ve done your best. You’re ready for this tournament, am I right?”

“Yes, Sensei!” You shouted.

“Wrong!” He slammed the beer on the ground at your feet.

You flinched when the beverage splashed onto you.

“Your best ain’t shit, if you wanna win the tournament, you gotta give me better than your best, which is why from now on, you’re gonna get my worst. Do you understand?” He shouted.

“Yes, Sensei!”

You felt empowered at his pep talk, ready for whatever he was going to throw at you. While part of your mind was sounding alarms that this was dangerous, you ignored it.

“Are you losers?”

“No, Sensei!”

“Are you nerds?”

“No, Sensei!”

“Are you sure?”

“No, Sensei!”

You caught your mistake, biting down on your lip to suppress your laugh. And you saw the way Sensei groaned in response before he commanded the group.

“Move those feet! Go!”

He pointed to where there were a bunch of tires lined up.

Miguel led the way, moving his feet through the holes. Eli was next and you followed behind Eli, weaving your feet through the tires as fast as you could.

“Your enemies are all around you. Destroy them!” Sensei barked.

You began wreaking havoc, smashing the end of the wood plank into the car doors, it was fun and funneling so much anger and hate out of you.

After the short-lived destruction, you were led to a container filled with scrap metal and glass, something that uneased you. The feeling of fear bubbled in your stomach but you swallowed it, knowing fear did not exist.

Miguel made it without a scratch. Then it was Eli’s turn to walk the plank and your breath hitched when his foot slipped. Thankfully he made it and you were able to say you still had a boyfriend. When it was your turn, your legs shook, arms held at either side of you. You crossed, a smile on your face and your boyfriend waiting on the other side with a victory kiss.

Going back to the tires, you were already out of breath, the exhaustion coursing through you and it showed with the rest of the team when Aisha tripped, causing Miguel to fall, then you, then Eli—all on top of each other.

Groaning in pain, Eli’s elbow dug into your back and you tried to get off Miguel without hurting him as well.

“Sorry,” you winced, pushing off your friend’s back once Eli was off you. “You alright?”

“Yeah, Aisha, you good?” Miguel asked to which she nodded, face contorted in pain.

Sensei ordered you all to stand in the middle of the scrap yard, something in his hand.

“If you wanna win, you gotta be hungry. Are you guys hungry?” He handed each of you a piece of jerky.

You grimaced at the smell, wondering if you had to eat it.

“Yes, Sensei!”

“Good, 'cause so are they,” he smirked before blowing a whistle, barks following through.

Your eyes widened and you immediately bolted, jumping onto a car and finding the highest place. Your heart raced as you searched for your friends but as you scanned over the yard, all you could find was a terrified Eli as he attempted to escape a starving dog.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You asked, hand tracing over the bandages.

It was hours later now and you came over to see your boyfriend after he had to go to the hospital for a rabies shot. You wished you could go, but it was agreed among both your parents that you’d visit him after.

“Yeah, I got pain meds for the bite, the shot didn’t even hurt,” he smirked, lying in his bed.

“I was scared to death,” you blew out a breath. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you couldn’t help it and threw your arms around him.

He hugged you back, squeezing you tight as you held on. “I’ll live, nothing to worry about, babe,” he reassured.

“I know,” you pulled away, face down. “I spoke to my parents when you were in the hospital, this whole incident made them less happy about me being in Cobra Kai,” you admitted.

“My parents agree,” he sighed, glancing out into the hall where his mom and dad were downstairs. “But they don’t know how much better it’s made us,” he grabbed your hand, squeezing it.

“I know,” you squeezed back. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” he met your gaze, smiling.

“I made you this, by the way,” you reached behind you and grabbed the card you made him.

It read: “Damn, got bit by a dog? That’s ruff, hope you get better soon!” with a drawing of a dog with a mohawk.

“That’s amazing,” he laughed. “Thanks, you’re the best,” he reached over to kiss you on the cheek.

Warmth radiated before you spoke. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, goodnight,” you hugged him again, pulling away and giving him a generous peck on the lips.

He watched as you left his room, hearing you go down the stairs, say bye to his parents, and shut the door.

Your gaze was on the movie but Eli’s constant flicking of candy at other moviegoers was distracting. On top of Aisha asking what was wrong with Miguel. Their conversation was anything but whispering. You began droning in on their conversation, Miguel saying why Sam’s dad would hate him and whatnot.

You were eating some popcorn, taking a sip of your drink, and trying to watch the movie but the side conversation and Eli’s distracting movements were well, distracting.

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a nerd,” he insulted Miguel, stepping into the conversation.

You furrowed your brows, reaching for his hand, sending him a look he brushed off. You rolled your eyes, leaning to the side to rest your head on his shoulder. You smiled when you noticed he paused, staring at you with awe.

Aisha went on to comfort Miguel and you were enjoying the movie again but Eli still managed to throw the candy, pissing you off.

You straightened, leaning on the other side of your seat, and rested your head on your arm, staring bored at the screen.

“Dude, just go over there. It’s an alpha move,” your boyfriend responded to what Miguel was talking about. With another flick of his wrist, a candy hit the back of someone’s head, instantly, a built dude stood up asking who did that, you had to hide your smile at the look on Eli’s face.

After the movie finished, you and Aisha departed from the boys, deciding to go shopping.

“You seemed pretty pissed at Hawk, something going on?” She asked when you entered a store.

“He was being annoying, like why throw candy? It’s wasteful, just watch the movie!” You scolded, rolling your eyes. “I love the dude, but, ugh, sometimes he’s just,” you huffed, unable to find the words.

“A boy?” She finished for you.

“Exactly,” you shook your head, a smile coming on your face.

“This is one of those moments where the saying “boys will be boys” is actually justified,” she raised a brow.

“You get me,” you sighed. “I’m so glad I have a girl friend,” you wrapped your arm around her, walking further into the store.

“Tell me about it,” she agreed.

#eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #hawk x reader #cobra kai

79 notes · View notes