#i'll go over this again for typos and such later but it's done enough!

[wolfish-trickster]

You made your choice

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Previous part

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: you asked Gojo who is more important to him, you or his bestfriend. He indirectly chose and now he's experiencing consequences of his own action (probably for the first time in his life).

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @nanao4k

A/N: I recomend listening to this song while reading (was listening to it while coming up with the story, the song and the story aren't exact copies of eachother but the vibe is about the same) and to those who know me THE LINK IS SAFE TO CLICK I DIDN'T LINK IT WITH WHAT YOU THINK I SWEAR. Enjoy the reading 😊

"Hey, can I come over?"

"Dude, you were just here!"

"I know, I know. But I need a shoulder to cry on."

"Damn, that bad? What happened? You and Y/N had a fight or...?"

"Can I just come over?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Geto Suguru has had a lot of weird moments with his best friend, but that phone call certainly was...something. No explanation, no joking around, just straight to the point.

About fifteen minutes later he heard his front door open.

"Satoru, did you learn how to teleport or something? We live an hour away from eachother," Geto joked before he could even turn around and see the state his friend was in. Disheveled hair, dry lips, red eyes. Something terrible must've happened.

"It's Y/N," was all Gojo said before he sat down at the dining table.

"Figured that much," replied Geto and took a seat next to him and waited. He knew Gojo. That man can't shut his mouth to save his own life. He'll spill everything sooner or later.

Gojo let his head fall on top of Geto's and sighed. Geto patted his fluffy white hair and kept on waiting. Good thing was they both sat right across a big window. Geto could count pine cones on the nearby trees while he waited for Gojo to open up.

It didn't take long.

"Y/N left."

"WHAT?!" Geto pushed the white head off of his shoulder and took Gojo by the shoulders. "What happened? What did you do?" He stared him in the eye.

Gojo just blinked. "I don't know! I don't think I did anything wrong," he looked oit the window again. A squirell jumped from one branch to another.

Geto rolled his eyes and turned Gojo's face back to his. "Satoru, people don't just up and leave. You must've done or said something that hurt her feelings. What did I tell you about comunication being-"

"Being the cornerstone of a good relationship, I remember," he put his hands on Geto's cupping his face. "We did talk. And I thought we came to a mutual understanding. Then I offered to cuddle with her and went to shower but once I walked out she was gone. All her things too..."

"Wow," Geto let go of his friend's face, "what a bitch."

"Right?" Gojo agreed and leaned back on his chair so far it was threatening to fall. "I don't understand. She never complained before, never said anything, then all of a sudden she pulls a stunt like that, throws a scene, slips into her selfhating thing again-"

"Wait, she what?" Geto asked confused. He has met you enough times to know you were very cheerful and life-loving person. What was Gojo talking about? Selfhatred?

"She has these moments,"he explained, "thinks she's too fat, then not curvy enough, thinks she's too basic to be with a guy like me, so on. When it happened the first few times i comforted her but even after all those years she still thinks of herself as less than and I'm too damn tired of it. I thought all of those negative thoughts would go away the first time I assured her I love her no matter what," he crossed his arms on his chest and looked out the window again. "I'm starting to feel like she's doing it for attention."

"Listen Satoru, maybe she's just extremely selfconscious and people like her need reassurance like that. Besides if she was really doing that for attention she wouldn't leave withoit a word. She would leave hints for you to find her and come beg her on your knees or something."

Gojo chuckled. "Suguru, you've got to stop watching Shoko's telenovelas."

"I'm a slut for drama."

A phone rang.

In a speed of light Gojo pulled out his phone hoping to see your lovely face. The screen was black.

Geto pulled out his ringing phone and picked up. "Well well, speak of the devil," he smiled.

Gojo couldn't hear what him and Shoko were talking about. He could only take hints from Geto's facial expressions and his occasional answers.

"What do you mean you have to cancel it? Oh. Okay. I understand. And did she tell you what-" his eyes got wide. "But wait, that's not- I didn't- Actually he's right next to me."

Gojo tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about but Geto jumped up and walked across the room.

"Okay. Okay, i'll ask him. No, that's fine. Alright. Take care, both of you. Bye," he hung up. Then slowly turned around to face Gojo now standing opposite him.

"Now you'll tell me exactly what had happened between you two. You said she caused a scene, what was it about?"

His mouth turned into neutral line, just like when you started this whole mess. "She asked me to stop seeing you. Can you believe that? Trust me, if I told her to stop seeing her friends all hell would break lose."

"Isn't that what happened when she asked you?" Geto pointed out the obvious double standard but Gojo wasn't listening.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? She wanted me to spend more time with her. Like, what does she want me to do? Make me and her morph into one being?"

"It is true that you've been spending a lot of time with me," Geto held his chin between his fingers in a thought. "But I don't get one thing. If you being away from her this often was a problem for her then she must've shown signs, not encourage you to come and spend time with me when she was too busy herself."

"About that," Gojo nervously played with his shades. "I might've over-exagarated that."

"Don't tell me..." Geto pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She wasn't always busy when I came here."

"Satoru!" He half shouted. "You always told me she was too busy and couldn't come! Why would you lie?"

"Because i felt trapped!" He yelled back. "I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Yes, being around has brought me so much joy but I missed the thrill of being free. Just being with you and Shoko and doing whatever. Now I just feel like I'm chained to something that I kinda want away from but also not," the entire time he spoke he was pacing back and forth. "I just wanted to feel like the old times."

"So in other words you miss the feeling of being single but you also like the benefits relationship gives you," Geto concluded. "I thought you were better than this."

"And I thought you would understand," Gojo turned his anger against his best friend who was calmly standing in the living room. "But wait, I forgot, you have no one," he mocked.

"Damn right I don't. Which makes me even more pissed off when I see how you treat your own relationship! Have you got any idea how much I envied you for having someone waiting for you at home and welcome you after a long day? Or just someone to be there for you in general?"

Gojo got silent. He didn't know. Geto never showed it.

Geto took it as his chance to try speak some sense into Gojo. "Listen, you only feel like this because you've never been in a relationship. Feeling trapped is normal, I think. What's important is that you love her and you're capable of changing to get her back, right?"

Gojo was just looking at him.

"Right?" Geto said a bit more panicked.

"I don't know!" Gojo exclaimed and Geto facepalmed. "I don't know how to choose between her and you."

"Is that what she asked? For you to choose between her and me?"

Gojo shook his head. "No, I think she just wanted me to spend less time with you."

"So she didn't out right prohibit you from hanging out with me, she only asked for you to stay with her more often," Geto was slowly but surely getting the whole picture.

"Something like that," Gojo shrugged.

Geto sighed. "You royally fucked up Gojo Satoru."

"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his words. "I still think I did nothing wrong. She has no right to aks me to spend less time with you."

"She does actually. She's your girlfriend of what, three years?"

Gojo nodded.

"Three years and yet you place her beneath a best friend. How would you feel like if she had to choose between her best friend and you and she went for the friend?"

Suddenly, Gojo looked like it finally hit him. "I'd feel...terrible," he sat down on the chair. "But... but I didn't tell her I would choose you. Both of you mean so much to me."

"On the same level or a different one? Satoru, understand that the love for a friend and a love for a lover are two separate kinds of love. You not being able to distinguish between them caused you to be in this mess."

Geto walked over to where Gojo sat and towere over him. He put a reassuring hand on his wide back. "Let me ask you this: what do you want right now? To be with her?"

Gojo stayed silent. He didn' know what he wanted. He hated the fact that he can't have both a friend and a lover. Choosing one would mean losing the other in Gojo's eyes. He can't afford that. Not when both of his most treasured people made him so happy.

Geto took his silence as a no. "You know what I think? You didn't want to have her. You just wanted others to see you have her."

His words cut like a knife. Why? Why do his loved ones have to be this cruel? He only looked up from the floor to his best friends almost black eyes. His own baby blues were watery. A lump took place in his throat. With a horror he realised how weak he feels. One half of him already packed her things and walked away, he can't let the other half do the same.

"Do you hate me now?" He whispered, affraid if he will speak any louder he would cry.

Geto took a while. Then shook his head. "No Satoru, just dissapointed."

Gojo nodded and looked back down to the floor.

Few minutes passed. None of them said anything. After Gojo was completely sure he won't fall apart he spoke up. "Do you think I can fix this?"

"Hmm," Geto hummed and pulled out a chair to sit opposite him. "Fixing means returning to its original state. I don't think things will go back to normal."

"But, I don't want to lose her. I know I don't!"

"Then you must set your priorities straight."

"But-" Gojo looked into Geto's eyes again. "That would mean I will loose you and that's equally as bad."

Geto shook his head. "You won't loose me. I'll still be here. You can still come over and we can still hang out. It just won't be like before."

"And that's what I don't want," Gojo mumbled and crossed his arms again while leaning into the backrest.

"Truthfully, if I had a girlfriend as amazing as Y/N I would spend a lot of time with her and not you."

Gojo swore he could feel his heart crack. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, "that it's only natural to pick your lover over your friends. Not always, of course, but often enough."

Geto lifted his head to see his friend pale as a ghost, his skintone could now rival with his hair. He immediatelly regreted what he said. "But as I said, even if that was the case, even if you chose her as your top priority, which you should've as a good boyfriend, then it wouldn't mean I would cease to exist. And if I get someone in the future and I do the same you won't cease to exist to me either. You are my best friend, Satoru," he placed a hand on Gojo's shoulder, "and no girl will ever change that."

Gojo's ocean blue eyes let some tears slipped. He realized that his best friend is right, as always. Geto will always be there. And sure, even after he gets busy in his own life and won't have time for Gojo and his antics anymore, that wouldn't mean they would change into strangers to one another.

Gojo quickly wiped his tears and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want tk fix this. I want to evolve this. I want her back. I want to learn to love her again. Properly this time."

"You sure about that?"

Gojo nodded.

"Even after she won't forgive you?"

"Why wouldn't she? She's smart. She will understand. Besides, how can you rehect the best man in the world?" He forced out a chuckle.

Geto shook his head. "Arrogant and full of yourself as always."

"Yeah, what can you do..."

Geto's phone buzzed again. But this time nkt from a phone call but a message. Geto took out his phone, gave it a short glance and put it back into his pocket.

"Was it Shoko?"

Geto shook his head. "Just my reminder. Me and Shoko planned to go see a movie."

"Oh, is that what you talked about canceling?"

Geto nodded. "Y/N knocked on her door and asked to stay a few days. From what Shoko told me she was a mess."

Gojo slumped forward on his chair and hid his face in his hands. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

Geto hummed. "Do you know what this is callled? Consequences. Hurts, doesn't it?"

[sightofsea]

your preferred twelfth doctor ship, 108 🫡

for you my fellow twelveclara warrior I give you this. also I apologize for any typos.

108. "Is that my shirt?"

"Is that my shirt?"

The question almost flies by Clara's head. She's too invested in whatever's happening on the screen in front of her. Years ago, back when she was nannying and certain people had certain faces, the movements and images were nothing but gibberish. But time and proximity have, like they do to most things, washed away the exciting edges of the unknown. She may not be able to read Circular Gallifreyan, but she knows that certain concentric circles spell trouble. She's seeking them out.

When the question does reach her, she has enough mind to glance at the Doctor, paused at the steps, before returning to her task. "Hm? Yeah." She scratches at her wrists, even though the material is surprisingly soft.

"That's my shirt," the Doctor repeats. "And my trousers. And my jacket--are you dressing up for something?"

"Just told you that, yeah," Clara continues, After a minute, she drags her eyes from the screen. "Ran out of clothes. Doing laundry."

"There's a wardrobe," the Doctor reminds her. 

He's staring at her--he does that. Clara imagines that, for most people, this is what a mouse feels like when confronted with a hawk. She's not most people.

"Yeah, but, y'know," she says. She shifts in place, having enough presence to be a bit embarrassed. She shrugs. "Wanted to see what it was like."

The Doctor sighs, but there's no heart in it. He launches off of the steps and rolls his eyes. "You've done that."

"That was an audition," Clara says. She spreads her arms wide. "This is a dress rehearsal." The Doctor squints at her, not quite getting it. Thrilled at the prospect of a game, Clara grins and smacks her chest, "Here, you play. Be me, and I'll be you."

There's the delicate raise of an eyebrow. "Should I put on a pantsuit and a set of heels?" the Doctor asks.

"If you like," Clara says with a smirk. It's an image she certainly...well, she might be thinking about it, later. "I wouldn't mind." Right, maybe said too much. She stalls around the console, disappearing behind the column rotor and coming out the other end with a horrible Scottish accent and an even worse disposition. "Now then, Clara, all of time and space. Where do you want to go?"

The Doctor gives her a derisive look. "I don't talk like that."

"Of course you don't!" exclaims Clara, still holding onto the accent. She presses a few buttons absently, readjusts the monitor. "You're Clara. And Clara says..." She makes a rolling gesture towards him. The Doctor stares at her, deadpan. She gestures again.

The Doctor rolls his eyes, arms limp at his sides. "Somewhere new."

Clara frowns. "Well that's not very specific, is it?"

The Doctor shrugs. "I'm Clara," he says. "I tend to be vague." Then, as if possessed by a teenage girl at a barista counter, he leans against the console, taking care to have a certain curve in his back and a bit of attention payee to certain features. He rests his chin in his palm. "Take me somewhere new and exciting and full of adventure that'll nearly kill us."

His voice is still the same. Clara scowls and drops the accent. "I don't stand like that."

The Doctor gives an innocent frown. "Ohhh, of course you don't." He gives his best shit-eating grin. "You're the Doctor. And the Doctor says..." He gestures to her. 

Clara doesn't take the bait. "Of course," she says instead, and picks up the accent again. She starts fiddling with the console more, and feels something stir in her stomach the more bothered the Doctor looks. "I'll take you to a planet where they've got starlight instead of waterfalls." She skirts around him, reaching over his shoulder and leaning in close. "Of course, the TARDIS is so tricky so who knows." She flips a switch next to his hand. "Maybe we'll end up in a Dalek fleet somewhere." He stares at her, a little wide-eyed and unguarded. She smiles, feeling something stir in her stomach, before bounding off to the opposite side of the console.

The Doctor un-flips the switch and follows her around. "Or maybe we'll have a normal adventure," he says. "Those do happen." He shrugs. "But then again, I'm Clara, so I don't really like those ones."

Making a full round, Clara flips the switch again. "And I'm the Doctor, so I don't like those ones either."

She makes one more round, the Doctor following close behind, before turning on her heels and placing a hand on the big lever.

The Doctor places his hand over hers, their fingers overlayed almost perfectly. They feel like one hand belonging to two bodies. "I'm a glutton for danger," the Doctor as Clara says. 

Clara as the Doctor grins, raises her eyebrows. "As am I."

They're very close now, the only sounds around being their own breaths and the mechanical whirring of a machine forever out of time.

"And you love it," the Doctor says. 

"And so do you," Clara says.

The Doctor stares at her, resolute. "Bit out of character," he relents, his voice near a whisper. "Wouldn't you say?"

Clara swallows. "Yeah," she whispers back. She gives him a sad smile. "The Doctor would never say something like that, would he?"

He gives her his own sad smile. "No," he agrees. "And neither would Clara, I'm guessing."

Clara thinks about a few things, all at once. She thinks about how warm the jacket in on her. She thinks about their knuckles aligning, bone atop bone. She thinks, mostly, about the language of the Time Lords and concentric circles. Always going round and round, never really touching. Words being repeated over and over again until someone decides to move on with the sentence.

"No," she says, and pulls the lever. The Doctor's pushes. It has no choice in the matter.

The TARDIS jolts, and they continue to grip onto the console as one hand. The air around them whines and scrapes once, twice, the very ground beneath them shaking, before the lever is brought up again. Neither can tell if it was pushed, or pulled. 

Clara is the first to withdraw. She's playing a part, after all, and she knows her role well. She has to be the first to withdraw.

She pushes off of the console and to the doors, pulling them ajar. The world outside is bright and alive and strange. It's old hat by now. There's some shouting in the distance. 

Ah, better.

"What about the laundry?" the Doctor asks from the console.

Clara turns back to him and smiles. "I have a feeling it'll be done when we get back," she says, and nods to the world outside. "Come on, Clara, don't you want to see me be clever?"

The Doctor smiles back. "As much as I ever do," he says, and follows her outside.

[darkpoisonouslove]

17 and 18 :)

Thanks! :)

17. talk about your writing and editing process

Well, the process is pretty straightforward, actually. I get an idea, usually accompanied with at least a couple dialogue exchanges. I write down everything that I have, which is now the skeleton of my outline. I look at it and try to identify what's missing from it and how much I need to make the story functional aka to have it accomplish what I want from it. Often that means that I realize that I don't know what I want from it so then I have to think about that. This is usually the part where I file ideas away for later and they are added to my ideas doc.

If I do figure out what I want from it, I keep adding to the outline until I'm sure I have everything that I need - that means all scenes in order, complete with actions and dialogue. I may not know a couple details here and there but I try to at least have a direction such as what kind of emotion I want to express in the gap or what concept has to be introduced in order to make the whole thing comprehensible. Then I start writing, which is usually the hardest part. I have been known to spend more than half an hour actively working on a single sentence so... I take my time with the first draft (technically the outline is kind of the first draft). I prefer to edit less later than write quicker and then have to edit more.

I've found that when I get stuck, it's because I don't really know what I want to say. Despite all the outlining and thinking and considering, I often end up realizing that I don't know what I'm trying to say. Once I figure that out, it becomes a matter of how to say it so that it's not just telling stuff that I should be showing. It takes a while but eventually I get what I want. Sometimes I give up and just tell it and decide I'll come back to it later.

For editing I usually go over the text and rework every sentence that is convoluted or doesn't sound right or repeats a sentence structure I've already used 3 times in the last 5 sentences. Generally speaking, I don't have to do structural edits or rewrite entire scenes because I've already done the heavy lifting during the outline stage so most things are in their right places. I have had to move paragraphs and sentences and words around like I'm putting Frankenstein's monster together from various body parts but that's usually the case when I'm possessed by an idea and don't spend enough time outlining and structuring it or I've missed the step of asking myself what I'm trying to say. Otherwise, most of my editing is on a sentence level and then I do another read to watch out for typos and whether or not I need to switch some pronouns to names.

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

I don't usually keep them but I do have a couple paragraphs from Fallen Love that I discarded as they directly contradicted a much more important idea so I'm pretty sure I'm not going to use them (for this story at least) and can post them:

With the proximity between them restored, she’d found him eyeing her neck, his thoughts palpable, spilling into the heated air to make it brand the lines into her flesh. There was mad obsession in his pupils that didn’t care if it would turn her into a monster, only that she’d be his again. With his mark on her neck, she would have been a useful asset again and perfectly incapable of another betrayal – enough to keep her alive despite the Ancestral Witches’ unforgiving nature.

He’d been the unforgiving one instead. Every time he’d dismissed the thought as if it hadn’t been the appropriate response to her treachery. He’d refused himself–and her–the brutality he’d craved for the sake of appearances.

She’d forced gratefulness out of herself – that he’d never tried, had granted her the grace of not finding out how much lower she was ready to stoop just for another stolen moment with him.

send me fic writer asks

[aemndxx]

𝓇.cameron. ┆ blaze.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ a lil late. ‹3 but happy 𝟒/𝟐𝟎 to the angels who celebrate. !!! 🍃♡ྀི also... i'm high as shit rn so sry for any typos—i'll fix 'em later, mwa! 𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜.

jus' thinkin' abt rafe celebrating 4/20 with his girl . <3

you're with your boyfriend that's still dealing at the time, some marijuana and some coke on the low, and you already know you're getting your little stash for free. rafe spends the last three days making sure he had the best, richest, and highest quality product of weed being shipped for his girl to smoke just in time for 4/20.

typically, rafe didn't let his girl consume any type of drug, even marijuana, and even the lightest of those fruity cocktails you love so much at the country club are just enough to get you drunk after only one or two, so he knows even with 4/20 quickly approaching, he's still going to keep a protective, and firm eye on you at all times.

especially now, since rafe is supposed to be inviting a few of his friends over at tannyhill since rafe's father and his new wife, rose, are on some far, far away vacation, which rafe couldn't give less of a fuck about, preferring to have tannyhill all to himself besides his little sisters, but he doesn't bother with them as much as he used to once he was in a serious relationship with you.

rafe even promised you that he would stop antagonizing the pogues, but only if they disrespect me first, he'd said in return, rather sulkily and reluctant, but he wanted to be a good boyfriend for you and he knew you didn't like violence of any kind.

once 4/20 finally came, you were already high as a cloud come noon, one of rafe's arms wrapped snuggly around your shoulders, tannyhill buzzing with a few people, but rafe doesn't really care about them right now, especially now with the way you're being all sweet and whiny for rafe's attention, acting all submissive and needy and breedable for your daddy—which, of course, rafe didn't mind at all, he liked you like this the most, so sweetly obedient and paying all of your attention on him and only him.

"yeah, princess? y'need somethin', hm?" he breathes teasingly into your ear, watching as your pouty, glossy lips (that tasted like cotton candy) smacked together noisily, making rafe smirk and his head was already quickly processing that you most likely needed a new refreshment.

without a care in the world about who was watching him and his girl, with you already in his lap comfortably, like the princess he always claims you are, sitting prettily and smiling dreamily, doe-like eyes heavy and red, long eyelashes fluttering slowly like a kitten, both freshly done and fluffy and making you appear like a perfect little doll, hanging all over your man as his big hands fondle your asscheeks under your pretty, little babydoll pink miniskirt that was covered with a layer of pretty white lace—my angel, rafe had complimented you earlier, making you all shy and bashful, like you usually were around your boyfriend.

"a'ight, baby… lemme − lemme go get you another water, and then we'll spark up again, yea?" rafe murmurs against your ear, his breath hot and smelling mostly of the overly intoxicating fragrance of the weed you'd all been taking turns taking hits from, mostly from fat blunts and the occasional little joint for the past few hours.

instantly, you breathily mewl in protest and hold onto your boyfriend tighter, arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him like a little girl that clings to their father.

softly, rafe breathes a light, amused little chuckle, used to your neediness, but knowing you're being extra clingy right now due to the drug and the tiny, few sips of those fruity, alcoholic seltzers that taste like the sweetest thing you can imagine, something that rafe wrinkles his nose at every time he watches you drink them, but pretends to like them for your sake, though he prefers something… stronger.

usually, if it wasn't a special occasion, rafe would bring you to an empty bedroom in whichever house-party he usually brings you along to, with you hanging tightly (and anxiously) onto your boyfriend's arm, letting him lead you upstairs with a large, possessive hand on your lower back, practically resting on your plump, perky little ass, guiding you to some random room to make out for a bit.

and then, after rafe gets bored of just messily making out with you, he fucks your brains out until you're all 'babied brained'—as rafe has occasionally called it, though was actually subspace, but rafe wasn't that thoroughly educated, and again, didn't give a fuck about searching up what it meant when he fucks his girlfriend senseless and within an inch of her life.

of course, rafe could search it up, but it didn't truly interest him and he thought it was just normal, and besides, he already knew you enjoyed being coddled by him and doted on by him after sex, so he figured he didn't need to worry too much—plus, even if he didn't want to admit it, it was a win-win situation for the kook prince, with rafe needing to always hold onto some part of you, especially after being intimate together.

and again, rafe didn't mind your clinginess, practically relishing in it, his ego growing more and more the more he realized how codependent you were becoming on him.

back in the present, rafe feels you begin pressing glossy, sticky kisses all over the side of his face, leading down to his already marked-up neck, causing him to let out a soft, low grunt of frustration and arousal.

"baby," rafe gently chastises, already knowing your sparkly, clear lipgloss with the light undertone of pastel pink—and yes, you always give rafe a haul of every makeup product you buy, using his money, of course—but again, rafe doesn't mind, enjoying the fact that his obedient little princess was becoming so dependent on him for everything, always needing him for something, and rafe... rafe doesn't care what you need from him, if it's something serious or dumb, he'll be there within minutes.

however, in rafe's mind, it's as long as you remember that rafe is your man and you don't need to be calling anyone else for help—that's what rafe was there for, to take care of you and fuck your pretty little pussy, and someday, perhaps sooner rather than later, rafe will pump a large, scorching load into you, deep inside of your womb… that way, you'll never be able to leave him, rafe thinks.

rafe breathes out a small sigh, his thick, muscular arms still wrapped around you, possessively and obsessively, wanting to keep you as close as possibly—meanwhile, he starts his own sloppy, passionate kisses against your lips, smearing your pretty lipgloss against his own lips, tasting how sweet you are, but once again, rafe doesn't give fuck, and he won't give a fuck when you complain to him that you have to reapply your lipgloss again, even though you do so every five minutes anyways.

"lemme jus' go get you another water, sweetcheeks," rafe coos against your lips, suppressing a smile at your instant pout, but quietly observes as you silently and simply crawl off of his lap, sitting to the side of him on one of the usual balcony outdoor furniture sofa's, it was a wooden wicker sofa with plush, probably thousands of dollars worth of cushions that rafe dragged you along to sit with him, but you didn't care, impatiently waiting for your boyfriend to come back to you.

it barely takes five minutes for rafe to return back to you, but there you sit, scrolling through your phone with a cute, bored pout on your plump lips, a fresh coat of your sugary lipgloss already applied, making your lips look extra kissable.

swiftly, rafe takes his seat back down next to you, opening the fresh water bottle for you, a hand going to your lower back casually, while his free hand guides the water up to your mouth, not even having to say anything, already watching as you perk up a bit and lean forward, taking a few eager sips, giving your boyfriend a grateful smile once he sets the water down beside himself when you finish.

with long, deft fingers, and a gorgeous, shiny golden ring decorating his index finger with the cameron family's symbol, rafe easily pulls out a freshly rolled, thickly stuffed blunt from behind his ear, already pulling out a lighter and swiftly lighting the end of it, curling one of his large, calloused hands around the newly burning tip so the spring breeze wouldn't blow out the cherry of the freshly rolled blunt.

"where'd you get that?" you hum curiously, a dreamy, pretty smile curling across your freshly coated glossy lips, already pressing yourself back into rafe's side, one of his thick, tanned arms thrown over your shoulders, keeping you close against him as he stuffs the lighter into the pair of his typical black nike shorts he'd been wearing since the weather has been warm and beautiful, summer coming quicker than you'd thought.

"rolled this f'us when i went inside to grab you a fresh water," rafe explains nonchalantly, still high off of the weed, but also the few bumps of coke he snorted just minutes ago, grabbing his girl his personal stash of the best quality of weed he had, saving it for you, knowing you were gonna beg him to let you smoke once 4/20 came—and strangely, the longer he'd been around you, and the fact that you two have been dating for a few months, the oldest cameron sibling was growing more and more attached to you as time passed, giving nearly into your every whim, no matter your request.

unless, of course, your request had something to do without him.

"you wanna shotgun this with me, baby?" rafe purrs lazily, taking a long hit of the cherry flavored blunt that was currently between his soft, pink lips, still slightly sticky from your previous kisses.

you let out a small, happy noise of agreement, nodding your head gently as you wrap both of your arms around rafe's non-dominant arm, feeling his muscles rippling every time he moved to be closer to you, his pretty girl.

and then, then you see rafe take another long drag, before casually leaning over you completely, pressing you down slightly against the back of the outdoor sofa, a hand holding the burning blunt between two fingers, while his other, much more dominant hand is now curled around your throat, holding you in place with a firm, but gentle grasp as he easily, and slowly, blows the smoke from his lungs into yours—your long, fluffy mink lashes fluttering prettily as the dizzying smoke fills your lungs and clouds your brain, making you smile another dreamy, happy smile.

meanwhile, before you even have time to respond, rafe is kissing you once more—again, this time more deeply, messily, mouth opened as his tongue sucks and plays with yours, humming in content after a long moment once he pulls back, an amused smirk on his kiss-swollen lips, similar to your own swollen lips, your lips smeared with your lipgloss once again, but you don't really care this time.

"this some good shit—huh, baby?"

[foolishquarry]

Waiting

The wood floor was smeared red from Max’s lupine pacing. He panted and whined, snuffling through every crevice and huffing at spidery catches of dust; increasingly distraught by the harsh tug of hunger in his gut. There was nothing to find here. The island was dark. Quiet. Too calm to draw his muddled attention to the tree house attic’s shuttered windows as a means of escape. 

The concept of Where and Why was lost for now, too scrambled to make sense of when his senses were drowned in the stink of his own blood and fear in this confined place. He wanted to run. Chase. Feel the moon. He was so hungry.

No one answered his muffled howls.

He did settle eventually. Sidelong on a scattering of blood spattered towels he somehow knew were 'a bed, sort of, sorry honey, all she could find’ and growling faintly as he curled to gnaw at his own elongated leg. Chasing a stinging itch of newly grown skin stretched too tight over muscle and bone and, every so often, panting again as something internal decided it wasn’t done shifting just yet. The pain passed quickly but the hunger only intensified. He was starving. Starving. There was barely room for thought beyond that. He groomed some of the blood from his skin. Minutes or hours passed, he couldn’t know, before his ears perked. He rose on his haunches at the sound of creaking wood and a voice below.

[on-off-writter]

Hey, you said that you were writing some Canons?. Can I asked Marco the phoenix and Sanji Vinsmoke hugging their s/o when their in a bad mood. Thanks 👍

Hi! Sorry for the late response. I don't really read my notifications and no one was requesting until I read this. It's already been months since you've requested this.

Sorry for the typos and my English isn't really good since it's my second language.

Anyways this is how I think Sanji and Marco would hug you when your in a bad mood.

SANJI / MARCO ON HOW THEY WOULD HUG YOU WHEN YOU'RE IN A BAD MOOD.

Sanji

-Ok let me get this straight since we all know that Sanji would be really a pleaser when you're in a bad mood.

-Since he's the cook he would cook for you ofcurse. You favorite one obviously.

-Then when he's done on cooking and preparing your food he silently sneak into your room and he saw you brushing your hair.

-Your eyes met but you chose not to pay attention to him since the reason why you're in a bad mood is because of a woman. None other.

-So this is the reason why you are mad.

-On the last island you where with him buying some ingredients for his recipes. While keeping yourself accompany by some vendor explaining on what the spice would do you think on Sanji on what is his opinion.

-And there it is, you saw him eyeing on another woman with a heart eyes. Compliment them and as his girlfriend you have the right to be jealous since he's yours.

-In the first place you know it would be like this when dating Sanji since it's like how he act the first you two met when you join the straw hats.

-After that you didn't care on the vendor's explanations about spices but you silently go back to sunny without calling Sanji or even bothering to call him.

-When he didn't found you anywhere he asked the vendor where did you go. And how the vendor explain her knows you're mad.

-He didn't think of any but just grab all the stock and go back to sunny ready to cook all your favorite even if it cost a whole month stock.

-You sigh before standing up walking towards the bed but then you felt an arms wrap around your waist.

-"I'am sorry my love. I didn't mean to make you mad." He murmur kissing your shoulders softly.

-Nuzzling his face into it inhaling your scent and kissing it all over. Feeling your warm.

-"Sanji..."You turn around and cupped his cheeks.

-"I know how you act around beautiful woman but please remember you're in a relationship with me." You said giving him a peck.

-"I'am really sorry my love." He muttered. "I'll make it up to you I promise." He added.

-"I know, I know." You answered before smiling and turning into the food he make.

-Yiu softly hum before you found yourself calming while he's hugging you.

-Seriously this man has a tiny waist and it was really great when hugging him and he's pleasing you when your mad.

-In short he would hug you to test the waters before kissing you and so on and so on.

Marco

-Marco is mature enough to notice that your in a bad mood.

-He knew everytime you called him to eat he insists and say that he's busy.

-After that you didn't bother him anymore and just be alone in your shared bedroom.

-Its been a whole day and he didn't see you go to his office.

-Now we know Marco is a doctor and he have to check on he's brothers under his division and you understand it as his girlfriend.

-But now it was already been three days since you guys have quality time and wanting cuddles but you know he would just say his busy.

-Later that night just like the last night and the other night you just cuddle up a pillow.

-Until you heard the door of your room open making your eyes shut.

-"You're still awake-yoi?" He asked.

-You did not respond.

-As you feel he lay down beside you feeling his gun against your ear. "Did someone miss me yoi?" He asked again.

-"No one." You muttered under your breath as you hear him chuckle.

-"You are easy to read little bird"

-He started in playing with your hair, humming ang telling you in how his day go.

-"I know you are mad at me since u didn't have time for you for the last three days." He calmly say.

-"But now I'am done and we can cuddle as much as you want yoi." He added sliding his one arm into your waist as the other one where his head lay on while looking at your back.

-Momments later you cannot hold it anymore but to face him and hug him tightly.

-"It's hard to sleep without you on my side. I feel a bit cold." You replied nuzzling into his neck.

-"I've miss you." You mubble.

-He smiled at you before kissing your head.

-"I miss you too." After that the two of you happily sleep that night.

10/1/2022

[chasingpj]

𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫

pairing: leo valdez x child of iris!reader

requested?: yes!

translation: full of color

warnings: uhh, mentions of mental health and ?? maybe some typos lmao

category: headcanons, fluff, best friends to lovers

pre-relationship

though, leo saw you around camp often, you caught interest in him before he caught interest in you

i mean, he literally couldn't miss you because your outfits were always bright, whether it was a combination of colors or monochromatic

you and your siblings actually look like a rainbow threw up on you guys, and it's honestly iconic

no one at camp can not notice the children of iris, especially when they're in a herd

one day, you were sitting alone at a picnic table near the lake, and you found yourself drawing him in your sketchbook

you sketched a portrait of him while he spoke to piper at a table nearby

you've always found the floppy curls and how his brightest smiles always look a little manic to be adorable

when you sketched his portrait in your notebook, you didn’t intend for him ever to see it

until a couple of weeks later in the arts and crafts center, leo passed by and caught sight of a new project you were working on

he stopped in his tracks to compliment your drawing

since you were nowhere near done with it, you couldn’t admire the piece as much as he was

but his enthusiasm was so endearing

he politely asked if he could see more, and you didn’t hesitate to slide over your sketchbook

he noticed a lot of your drawings were scenery and people at camp; especially your siblings

he stumbled across a detailed sketch of a woman and her child sitting in a bus

“wow… who’s this?”

“oh, I don’t know. It was just a little girl I saw on the train with her mother.”

“so you just drew her?”

you never realized how weird your habit of drawing random people was until he had asked

you giggled nervously, quick to explain yourself, “I tend to draw people or things that I find beautiful. I wanted to capture how calm and happy she was with her child ‘cause at the time, I was stressed and angry. Watching and drawing her made me calm.”

leo nodded, a faint smile on his lips before looking back down at the drawing. “that’s really cool,” he complimented, and you shifted in your seat, suddenly shy.

And then it hit you

you were so willing to show leo all your works that you had completely forgotten that his portrait was in that book

your pulse thumped loud in your ears, mind racing to figure out a way to take away your sketchbook before he could see it

you ended up spending so long thinking of what to do that he arrived on the page in no time

right before he could see the drawing in its entirety, you slammed the book closed and snatched it

leo’s startled expression turned into a mischievous smirk

“was that me?”

you froze in your place; a squeaky sound escaped your throat in your embarrassment

leo’s brown eyes sparkled as he leaned into you, your gaze fixed on his, “y/n, you think I’m beautiful?”

AHHHH!

^^ that was you in your head btw

leo laughed, amused at your attempt to deny it

“then why did you snatch it away?” he raises an eyebrow before reaching over quickly to grab the sketchbook back

you didn't pull it out of his reach fast enough, leo getting a grip on one side

the two of you pull it back and forth, leo laughing at you as you continued to deny what he saw

though you were incredibly embarrassed, you couldn't contain the laughter bubbling in your chest

gods, of course, this would happen to me, you thought

he got it out of your grip, and you sighed in defeat, watching him flip to the page of him and piper

he was quiet, studying the picture for a second before giving you that playful smirk

“you think I’m beautiful?” he asked again

you playfully rolled your eyes, “it was more piper than you.”

your tone was sarcastic, only fueling leo’s banter with you

“oh really?” he chuckled to himself, “but i’m the only one colored in.”

you were silent at his observation before scoffing, “whatever.”

leo only laughed as you take the book away from him

“don’t you have somewhere to be, fire boy?” you asked and nudged his shoulder

the glint in your eyes made him smile, and he shrugged, “i guess i do. i'll see you around."

you nodded, too shy to do anything else, and he walked off

after that, leo took it upon himself to talk to you every day

leo teased you about the drawing all the time, and he found the way you would play along to be funny

before you both fell in love, you were close friends

you had such an optimistic point of view about life, and it was pretty contagious

somehow when leo was in the dumps about something, you always knew what to say

you were just so easy to talk to, and because of this, your friendship just grew naturally

your first kiss was towards the end of summer

leo invited you to hang out with him in bunker nine at, specifically, 6 pm

you teasingly asked if it was a date, and you remember the way he tensed up a bit

with a mumble, he asked, "what if it is?"

from the tone in his voice, you knew he wasn’t joking

in fact, his tone was hesitant, a part of him was expecting you to reject him

then the heavy pit in his stomach turned light when you smiled and said, "then I'm down."

the grin leo gave you made your heart flutter like crazy

your first date consisted of eating snacks and watching a movie on one of those portable DVD players

You picked up on the tension between you and him, and noticed the opportunities for a kiss kept passing

it was until Leo walked you to your cabin that night did you have a moment of boldness and asked, "so are you going to kiss me or?"

leo's eyes widen in surprise before his face broke out in the familiar smirk he gives when he flirts with you

you rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into you

your first kiss was sweet and soft; a little awkward

his hands hovered over your sides for a second, not sure what to do with them until he decided to rest them on your waist

it was the perfect way to mark the beginning of your relationship

relationship

since you guys are both broke teenagers, you got creative with date nights

you came up with the idea of paint splattering with him

you guys got canvases, covered the walls and floors with plastic to make sure you didn't dirty them

then you filled water balloons with paint and just threw them

despite you guys singing and dancing around in the midst of it, the canvases came out so good

and to commemorate the beginning of your relationship, you hung them up side by side in bunker nine, and when you guys get a place together, you hang them up in the hallway of your apartment

leo is a huge gift giver; as i’ve said before in my “how he shows he loves you” headcanons

he’s made you a lot of things; canvases, jewelry, little trinkets with scrap metal

one of your favorite gifts from him is a suncatcher with rainbow quartz

you fell in love with it and when you move in together, you make sure to hang it up in the kitchen with the bunch of other suncatchers that he’s made you

i love the idea that you would attempt to bring more color in his wardrobe

a lot of his clothes are muted in color; you don’t mind it but you were interested to see what he’d look like in a colorful outfit like yours

To say the least, he was not that enthusiastic and maybe, you shouldn’t have put him in a monochromatic orange outfit but… you still thought he looked cute

leo thought he looked like a traffic cone though so it didn’t stick

it’s okay because you like him the way he is anyways

another thing is that you guys are super supportive of each other and leo loves just how you manage to lift his mood

once leo was having a bad mental health week

you guys were sitting under a tree, looking out at the water

his head laid on your shoulder and small sniffles came from the other

it hurt to see him like this and you wished you could do more to make him feel better

then you had the greatest idea to make a rainbow for him

so you did

leo was so stunned when he saw the rainbow form over the lake

he looked at you surprised and when you admitted to making the rainbow for him, the emotion on his face was indescribable

and then you laughed and held him when he started crying because he said it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him

another time, you insisted that meditation would be good for him

he literally sat down for like 3 minutes with his eyes closed before he was itching to get up and do something

even when he was sitting down, he was still bouncing his legs and fidgeting

so that fell through too but you still helped him in other ways and he’s so grateful for your optimism and bubbly personality

leo always says that you bring color to everything; literally and figuratively

one of the things you bring color to is his life

and he’s constantly reminding you of this; that his world just feels brighter now that you’re around

and it’s literal too

since you painted the walls of bunker nine a bright orange

he asked you why orange, and you told him because orange encourages productivity, creativity, and most importantly, optimism

it may have also reminded you of the orange outfit you put him into

anyways, you told him that it hurt you to see him get down in the dumps, and you insisted there was no way he could be sad in a bright orange room

needless to say, you were kinda right

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky @anything-forourmoony @loverstyless @yelenabel0vaswife @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @hamdehlesmis @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @sol-the-salmon

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on!

[damiano-mylove]

Condescending Bitch

Pairing: Thomas Raggi x reader

Wc: 2.5k

Cw(s): swearing, kissing, crying, probably typos (as per usual, tell me if it sucks)

Summary: Reader breaks up with their boyfriend and Thomas consoles them.

Masterlist

If honesty be a virtue, you'd be virtuous to plainly say you'd fallen out of love with your boyfriend and you had done so a while ago. It wasn't deliberate, it was a gradual fizz wherein you found your heart warming for someone else. You felt horrible about it and that guilt had been eating at you. There was no cheating, but you didn't think you'd be able to avoid it for much longer. Not to mention, it wasn't only the non-existent feelings, Luca was just an asshole when you weren't blinded by love.

There comes a time where one must throw in the towel, and now was that time for you.

You couldn't do it at a restaurant; knowing Luca, he'd cause a scene. You couldn't do it at some meeting place; it would ruin that place forever and ever to both of you. And that shit's just not fair.

In the end, you couldn't make the decision. So you put every single item of Luca's clothing in a bag (and a couple things he'd left around your flat), and drove over to his house while you still had the nerve. You'd gathered and lost the nerve a couple times before, but the plan was already in motion now. Hell, there was no plan, but whatever you were raring to do was up and running.

You drove straight to Luca's mother's house in record time. Time flies when you're laser focused.

"Y/n!" Luca's mother exclaimed joyfully as you entered the kind looking house. How someone like Luca came out of Mrs. Batali was a wonder in and of itself. Once Mrs. Batali spotted the bag in your hand, she frowned. "Has something happened, Bambino?"

Somehow, the hardest part of this breakup would be bidding goodbye to Luca's mother, and not Luca himself. You sighed, "I'm sorry, Signora. Luca and I have been having issues for a while now."

"Oh, don't be sorry, Bambino." The older lady's kind smile returned to her face, which struck a heart string you hadn't even known existed. Mrs. Batali swayed toward you, in all of her vanilla scented goodness. She hugged you around your neck loosely, which you returned around her wide hips. "You're always welcome for dinner and a roof. Don't let the stupid boy stop you from seeing me."

God gave two gifts to this world; one of them was Mrs. Batali.

A smile cracked across your face as your chest continued to tighten and hurt. You loved this family like your own, and you loved Luca at some point. So many memories were made in the throws of this relationship, and it was all going to be thrown out the window by you. But it was too late now.

"Ti amo." Mrs. Batali placed a kiss to your forehead which made your smile even more genuine. She patted your shoulder, finally releasing you from her motherly grasp. Sadly, she raised her arm to the stairs to Luca's bedroom. "I'll be down here, if you need me."

You smiled once more to the older lady and bowed your head in silent thanks. If you uttered a word, the word would lead to tears. It seemed the two of you knew this.

It was the last thing you wanted to do right now, but you had to seal the deal.

Without your consent, your feet began moving toward the stairs then up the stairs. Your heart beat in sickening rhythm with your footsteps, but your heart seemed more heavy than your feet. It was ridiculous. You were ready to throw up, pee, or meltdown - you didn't know which one, if it was one at all.

At long last, after walking down the longest hallway of your life, you stood in front of Luca's closed door. You remembered all the times you'd breeze in, going straight into Luca's arms for a kiss. His breath wasn't always good and he was a bad kisser, but he made you feel infatuation. Now it only seemed a fraction of what you felt for the other person. Yes, God, that was why you had to do this.

You knocked. Your heart was deafening.

"Come in!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You pushed open the door, feeling like you were having a heart attack. Luca smiled brightly at you from the light of his computer. Then he laid eyes on the bag. Don't know how, it was dark as fuck in the room. And smelt of cheap body spray and dirty clothes.

"Hey, Babe, I wasn't expecting you," Luca smiled, trying to act off the bag of his clothes and gifts in your hand. You flicked on the light as he stood up to close the door behind you.

This room is fucking disgusting. It was truly noxious.

"Alright, Luca, sit down, we've got to talk," you told him, putting on your bravest and thickest voice. It worked because the air in the room changed. The air grew thick and impossible to breath. It could've been cut with a knife. Luca sat on his bed, hands in his lap. You placed the bag on the ground and sighed, "We're breaking up."

For a second, he was unresponsive. Luca didn't say a word until he looked you in the eye, what felt like a full minute later. His bottom lip quivered. "You're dumping me?"

"You can tell people you dumped me, I don't mind," you quipped, trying to make the situation better. You did not, in fact, make the situation better. You potentially made it about thirteen times worse.

"No, you're not." Luca stood up again. Your breath caught in your throat. "We're not breaking up."

He took a few quick steps to you. You stood your ground, trying to be as brave as possible. Your mask was slipping. The last thing you wanted right now was for Luca to see that you were cracking under his gaze. That would be fucking horrendous.

All of a sudden, Luca barked out a laugh. He looked like a madman. "This is about that Thomas bitch, isn't it?" You didn't answer, and your facial expressions gave nothing away. Then Luca snapped, "Isn't it?!"

"If you want to fucking shout, we can shout," you seethed. Luca blinked angrily at you. "We're adults - act like it."

"You're a condescending bitch."

"And you're an ugly prick, but I've never complained about that. You've called me a condescending bitch about 3 times and a flat-out bitch more than a dozen," you recalled quickly, with venom dripping off each syllable. It shut Luca up. However, he began to cry. You felt nothing but hatred now. "You're one pathetic bitch to be crying over the girl who you treat like a fucking doormat." Luca only cried harder. No sympathy. You spun on your heel and opened the door.

Without a glance back, you left.

Mrs. Batali smiled at you on your way out and gave you a freshly baked bun, which you thanked her profusely for.

It didn't take long for reality to set in, however. The adrenaline faded as you drove back to your flat complex. You began crying at the wheel and completely broke down in the car park. Tears streamed down your face like rivers, snot clogged your nose. Your mouth tasted horrible so you started to eat the bun Mrs. Batali had baked. It was so good that you started crying harder.

How the fuck could you do that? At this point, you were too sad to give a fuck about sobbing in a car park at 6 in the evening. You just threw in the towel of a year long relationship, in the blink of an eye. Like it was nothing and meant nothing to you whatsoever, which wasn't true at all. You felt like a horrible person.

Your chest clogged up with emotions and stale air, your throat grew a lump that you couldn't swallow down. Now you were the pathetic one. Crying in a shitbox car over your ex while eating fucking bread.

A tap on the window scared the Jesus out of you.

When you looked at the source, the other person was looking right back at you, looking worried and confused. Leave it to Thomas to look sad just because you were sad. Thomas looked so fucking good even though a blur of teary eyelashes. He made the hand crank motion, so you rolled down your window.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked. You just started laughing. What a stupid fucking question. Thomas began chuckling, realizing how stupid it was himself. "Fair enough. Fancy a cup of tea and a chat or shall I leave you to your car bread?"

How the fuck could he make you laugh in times like these?

You smiled then shooed him away from your car door so you could open it. He obliged and moved back, for you to get out, still with bread and keys in hand. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows as you two began walking back to the flat complex you both lived in. "Aren't you going to roll up the window?"

"How the fuck is anyone meant to steal it when all the windows are up?" It was your turn to earn a laugh from Thomas. Thomas' laugh hit your ear like honey. The sort of honey that your mother gave you to cure your sore throat before nursery. It was soothing and just the right thing for the situation.

As you walked up the stairs with Thomas, you realized he was taking you to his flat. To be fair, he was the one who offered you tea. What's he going to do? Offer you your own tea?

Thomas unlocked the ugly blue door of his flat that everyone in the building had a copy of. The second you both walked into the flat, warmth enveloped you, along with sandalwood and spices from Thomas' extensive spice cabinet. He must have been cooking earlier because it smelt Heavenly. Everything was in perfect place with just the right amount of mess and disorganization to make it seem like a home.

"I'll put the kettle on, sit anywhere," Thomas instructed after you both took your shoes off. You were wearing ratty trainers while Thomas was wearing perfectly clean Vans.

You nodded and flung yourself on one of his couches with a sigh. The couch was soft, warm and welcoming and you felt tired from crying and yelling and just the day in general. It was a shit day, that started with your toast burning and ended with this shit. A nap would really do good.

However, Thomas had other plans entirely. He placed a purple mug, full of tea with what looked like your golden ratio of milk and sugar. Thomas was your best friend, of course he knew your golden ration. You knew his. With a smile, you sat up which allowed Thomas to sit beside you and drape his arm over the back of the couch.

"Feel like telling me why you were crying in your car?" Thomas asked. You laughed lightly and sipped the piping hot tea.

"Broke up with Luca about-" you checked a clock. "-30 minutes ago."

As horrible as it sounds, Thomas' face lit up. His facial features remained the same but his beautiful green eyes lit up like candles in a dark room. "Is that so?"

"He called me a condescending bitch."

"So he hasn't gotten a new script," Thomas smiled. You chuckled lightly and sniffed. Your nose was still clogged from all the crying. You just didn't feel like blowing your nose like an elephant in front of Thomas right now. "He'll never get the chance to get a new script for you now."

"Thank God above," you sighed out with a laugh to your words. Thomas smiled. "I'll miss his mum though. Wonderful lady."

Thomas sipped his own tea and you discretely moved closer to him. It wasn't as discrete as you'd thought because Thomas picked up and moved a bit closer to you with a stupid smile on his face. "So how'd it go down?"

Like friends do, you told him everything, down to the detail. All but Luca being right, with Thomas being the other man who'd stolen your heart. That wouldn't be a key detail here because the last thing you needed today was to dump your boyfriend then directly after scare your best friend away from you forever.

But he wasn't scared off by you telling him Luca though you were leaving him for Thomas. Thomas actually smirked at that part, like the thought amused him. You didn't think anything of it actually, except for how cute Thomas was when he was smirking.

Eventually, the conversation faded and you were hip to hip with Thomas. With a sigh, he rested your head in the crook of Thomas' neck. His feather soft hair tickled the side of your face but you wanted nothing else for the moment. The scent of Thomas' cologne was prominent when you were this close to him, but you weren't going to complain about that. His arm fell from the back of the couch to around your shoulders.

Feeling Thomas' head turn to you, you looked up at him. Thomas' hand lightly squeezed you arm. Your breath hitched in your throat as you thought you were imagining Thomas observing your face.

Those gorgeous green eyes that you could stare into all day were scanning your face gently. They landed on your lush lips, then back to your eyes. All it took was a small nod for Thomas to lean in.

It was slow. It was slow, but undeniably sweet. The passion was palpable the minute your lips met his, just as you had been dreaming of for months now. His pillow-like lips were perfectly moisturized, but not over-saturated. The lip balm he used was strawberry flavoured and you'd never admired strawberry flavoured lip balm as you were in this moment.

As suddenly as it began, it ended.

Thomas leaned back for a second, looking guilty. "You need time to get over Luca, this is wrong."

"I've been over Luca for months." You placed a kiss to his lips, which Thomas accepted for a second, then backed out of again. You groaned. "Thomas, Luca was right. I'm in love with you."

In a stunned silence, Thomas' cheeks turned bright red. A broad smile grew on his face and you felt confident in your confession. You meant it, surely, but now you were confident that you did the right thing in telling Thomas.

"I've been in love with you since we went to the Capitoline." Thomas' voice cracked as he made his confession. Your heart bustled with warmth. He'd been pining for you all this time just to watch you run with Luca.

You couldn't take your aching heart. Grabbing Thomas' face gently, you pressed your lips to his again. He gladly returned this kiss with fervour and renewed zeal. Nothing else mattered while your lips were joined with Thomas' lips. Nothing would ever be able to induce the utter happiness and peace you'd felt in this moment.

After the kiss lasting for a while, Thomas pulled you to sit on his lap. He cupped your sweet face gently and smiled into your brilliant eyes. He kissed your nose. "May I tell you something else, Y/n?"

"Anything."

"I don't think you're a condescending bitch."

[ren-c-leyn]

Happy STS Ren! Today I would like to ask about your editing process. You rewrite drafts for one thing, but what else do you do? What does usually change between drafts? Do you need distance to be able to see what needs to be changed? How do you evaluate the quality of your writing? Any editing tools/helps/rules that help you either to write or to edit later?

+ a writing update ^^

@writingonesdreams

Happy STS to you too, Dreams ^^

So, editing. It's not my favorite part but it's actually the most organized part of my entire chaotic process.

So, first, I have a confession to make - I do edit as I write. Sometimes line edits, if the typo/missing word/janky sentence are really, really bugging me. Mostly, though, it's me going back and making rough blocks of foreshadowing/events that needed to happen in earlier chapters to make my surprise plot twists make sense in later chapters.

The fact that I cannot do this part of my editing process with The Shackles of Time due to posting it as I'm going makes me very, very nervous as it is a key part of my writing. The problem with my chaotic style is not even I see some of the things that happen later on coming, therefor I could not foreshadow ahead of time. So, yeah. I reread Shackles of Time frequently to try to minimize this particular aspect of my writing/editing process. (I'm scared for when it gets long enough that I can't knock out a reread in a weekend. That's going to make future chapters a touch stressful XD)

When I finish a draft, I let it sit for a minimum of two weeks. Usually longer, but mostly because I'm juggling half a dozen projects all at different stages so things get dropped for a hot minute.

Sometimes I'll come back from letting it sit and do some minor to moderate edits, lines, some consistency tweaks, but no major overhauls of the plot. It honestly depends on how intensive the fixes to the story are needed if I do this or not. Usually this step happens when there's something about it that's bugging me that I can't quite pin down. If I do this extra step, I let it sit again for a minimum of 2 weeks.

Then I break out the physical notebook. Now, when I sit down with physical paper, that's it for the draft. No more edits, no more tweaks, it lives like that now. I read. Anything edits I need to make, particularly to character arcs, the plot, and other major overhauls get jotted down alone with things I really like about the draft that I want to keep.

Then I rewrite the entire draft using my notes and the previous drafts as a guide.

This process gets repeated over and over until I get a draft I want to keep. The requirements for a keeper draft is 1. No major overhauls needed, moderate and lower issues are easily dealt with without rewriting, plot holes have been resolved or can be resolved with a few added/deleted paragraphs, and the entire draft flows decently while I'm reading it.

Then I go through multiple editing passes to clean up the prose, add some detailing, scrap some filler words, and what have you until I'm happy with it.

That's not to say the finished product ends up flawless. I've reread chapter 1 of The Shackles of Time at least 6 times now and I still randomly find typos in it XD

~

As for your update, I finished up another celebration post. I just need to schedule it. I've been working on another one while doing other things today. Once I finish this one, I just have one left and then I'm done with the anniversary posts.

However, I have decided that I will be redoing The Shackles of Time's banner to celebrate it's second year. So all chapters scheduled after it's official birthday will have the new banner. I may decide to do a new banner every year as a sort of mini-celebration.

Other than that, I have nothing else to report. I've been making a mad dash to finish these up since October is just around the corner.

Thanks for stopping by, I hope you have a lovely day/evening.

[hailbop1701]

Curing a Rainy Day

A sort of five times Star Trek gen fic for your viewing pleasure. I mentioned I would write it but please be aware that I wrote this on my phone late at night and I has no beta. Typos and mistakes will be found. 🤣

-H❤🖖

Word Count: 2,166

Sulu:

Leonard McCoy wasn’t a huge touchy-feely type of man. Well, that’s what he really wants folks to think anyway. He was a doctor and that meant it was his oath-bound duty to cure what ails his patients. Whether it was from a physical malady or an emotional one. The first time he initiated his “Rainy Day Cure” --title courtesy of his daughter-- to one of the command crew he was surprised that it was Sulu of all people. If Len were being honest he thought it would have been Jim. Sure he had hugged the kid in the past but he always let Jim be the one to initiate contact. The reason why is complicated and a story for another time. 

When he found him the young pilot was huddled alone in Observation Room Five, his shoulders hunched, his down so his eyes were hidden and mind lightyears away. Leonard had a feeling he knew where. The chaos after Khan and Marcus had caused a lot of damage, and not all of it was physical. They were all still healing even a year later. They had left Kronos not three hours ago and according to the mission report, Sulu’s younger sister was…

Not who she claimed to be. ‘Yuki,’ McCoy recalled her name lamely as he made his way loudly over to the depressed man.

She revealed that she worked for Section 31 and was determined to fix the Federation the right way. Though the term “Right way” is skewed for many folks. War was almost started, again and the Enterprise had to stop it, again. Section 31 now had the last little pebble of Red Matter and was holding it like a…” Nuclear deterrent” as the old saying goes. 

Shaking his head Leonard pushed recent events to the back of his mind and continued on his own mission. Plopping down on the couch that faced the giant window of stars, McCoy leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. 

He didn’t offer his apologies or sympathies, he knew Sulu didn’t want them. So they sat in silence. Sulu just shook his head and looked up at the doctor with confusion and betrayal in his eyes. “I don’t - I” he stopped swallowing and the helmsman looked so young Leonard didn’t even think about it until after he had already done it. 

He wrapped an arm over Hikaru’s shoulder and squeezed. Sulu stilled for a moment before relaxing and saying what needed to be said, a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders and his chest. 

Scotty:

Leonard and Scotty were both having a terrible terrible time. The cold sucked in Leonard’s opinion and being trapped on an ice ball of a planet only confirmed his feelings. Looking over at the Enterprises Chief Engineer, Leonard had a feeling that he wasn’t alone in his thoughts and feelings. 

The Scot was curled into a tight ball up against the last running console the entire ‘Fleet base had. He was shivering and muttering to himself, glaring at the distress signal he had rigged up. There was nothing they could do but wait. Rubbing his hands together to warm them Leonard moved toward the console and slid down to the floor next to Scotty. Touching shoulders with Scotty, McCoy tucked his hands under his arms and sighed. There was nothing he could really say to ease the engineer’s anxiety -- which stemmed from Delta Vega no doubt --  so he simply let his presence be enough. 

Scotty glanced at Leonard to see that he was looking back at him with calm understanding. Grunting Scotty curled himself closer to the CMO and let the man wrap an arm around his shoulders. They didn’t speak a word and only moved when they heard the sounds of the rescue party on the other side of the sealed doors. 

Chekov:

Pavel Chekov was the youngest of the command crew, so he was automatically protected and treated like the youngest sibling of a giant family. The navigator understood that his friends didn’t mean to and that it was just sometimes a reflex but he was getting damn tired of it. Today was his birthday, he had finally turned twenty! Chekov was so pleased to find that after the incident with Khan he was being treated like he should. There was one person who always treated him like he was young and precious. 

Pavel found that he didn’t mind so much. Doctor McCoy treated almost everyone that way -- even though he wasn’t that much older than the rest of them --  in an almost fatherly manner. A true caretaker. Chekov allowed the behavior from no one but McCoy. 

Leonard walked into “Rec Room Two” taking in the crowd with a softening scowl. A small wrapped parcel gripped in his hand. He looked down at the present, weighing it in his hands carefully.  With a sigh, McCoy strode through the room looking for the birthday boy. Jim waved at him wildly from the other side of the room a huge grin on his face. Narrowing his eyes, Leonard saw that his captain wasn’t in fact drunk at all. Grunting in approval he smiled at Chekov who was hurrying over to greet him. 

“Happy Birthday Pavel,” 

Chekov grinned and his eyes widened at the present presented to him. Leonard gestured for him to open it and the young man did excitedly. The wrapping paper littered the floor a long black box in its place. Slowly opening the box the navigator knocked a silver antique pocket knife into his hands. Examining it closely he looked up at McCoy in confusion. 

Leonard shifted nervously on his feet. Clearing his throat he pulled out a similar from his belt. “My daddy gave me this one to match his when I turned twenty. I know your pa wasn’t around as you grew up and so I thought…” his sentence fell into silence. For once Leonard McCoy was at a loss for words. Pavel quickly wiped a stray tear from his eye and grinned at his friend holding onto the gift tightly. 

“Thank you doctor!” he said gratefully and Leonard understood that it was for more than just a knife. A small smile graced the CMO’s lips and pulled the kid in for a hug. 

With anyone else, Pavel would have been annoyed. This was an exception. 

Uhura:

Leonard was tired. He longed for his bed but as he looked around at all of the injured crew he pushed the longing away. There was no time for it. Rubbing the blurry fatigue from his eyes he pushed on. Triage, surgery, aftercare. He really didn’t truly stop to breathe until the middle of gamma shift when the ship was sleepy and quiet. The only noise was the soft beeps and whistles of monitors. His nurses quietly whispering and working. 

Christine hours ago told him to stop worrying and to go to bed already but something in him just couldn’t. Blinking dumbly down at the PADD in his hands he sighed and signed off on the next round of Spock’s antibiotics. During the Enterprises most recent scuffle the bridge took a hit and the science station exploded sending the first officer flying, earning him a ticket to medical. 

After the fight was over and things had only calmed down to a trickle of wounded instead of a flash flood, Nyota Uhura breezed through sickbay’s doors. She waited patiently and even helped where she could. When Spock came out of surgery and was placed in a private room she immediately went to his side and hasn’t moved an inch since. Jim would have been right beside her if he could afford to. But it appears the admiralty wanted words and had kept him busy since. McCoy had barely just convinced him to get some sleep saying that he would call if anything changes. 

That was three hours ago. 

Leonard walked -- though Nyota would say shuffled -- into Spock’s room, his eyes going straight to the monitors above the bed. The half Vulcan was resting peacefully. McCoy knew it was only a matter of time before he woke and would go into a healing trance. Something that should be monitored anyway. Leonard quietly wondered who he would grant the opportunity to slap Spock awake this time…

“Leonard!” 

The sound of his name made the CMO snap his head in Uhura’s direction. Her eyes were fire, filled with frustration, exhaustion, and worry. McCoy winced, “Sorry Nyota, guess my mind wandered a bit,” he said somewhat sheepishly. Her expression softened a flash of guilt passing through her features. 

“You need more rest. You’re going to run yourself into the ground at this rate,” she scolded half-heartedly. McCoy gave her a small smile and a shrug, 

"I'll rest when I'm not needed." He whispered and badly covered up a yawn. The hidden meaning behind his words wasn't lost on the linguist though. She pressed her lips into a tight line deciding not to comment. Instead, she rested her gaze on Spock once more her hand inches away from his. 

So deep in thought, Nyota hadn't even realized that McCoy had left and come back, a tray with a couple of hypos in his always unwavering hands. Catching her eyes he gave her another encouraging smile. He took care to tell her everything he was doing and how it would help keep infection away. Leonard knew he didn't have to explain but he felt it necessary to fill the quiet with "Illogical chatter" as Spock would surely call it. 

Uhura was so tired and so frazzled that she was startled to find the CMO crouching in front of her with concern all over his face. "You need to get some rest Nyota. I can have a cot brought in if you'd like…" 

Uhura, let a few tears fall before she bottled it up again. She shook her head wiping her face, "I'm alright Leo. Everything is just catching up to me…" she mumbled with a watery chuckle. Leonard snorted at the nickname she had given him, 

"Just let me know darlin' " 

And without truly thinking about it he pulled her into a hug. It only took Uhura a second to process what was happening before she wrapped her arms around him tightly. A genuine smile breaking across her face. The first time in hours she felt content, safe, and able to truly breathe. 

Jim: 

James T. Kirk was a touchy-feely type of man. Leonard supposed it may be from a less than stellar childhood. So whenever Jim would pull him into a one-armed hug or slapped his back or even leaned up against him, McCoy would let him. He would definitely bitch but only half-heartedly, Leonard needed to keep up appearances after all. 

So when they found Jim partially dead, hanging from his wrists in a cave all smirks and charm…

Well, no one batted an eye when -- after he made sure that the man would live -- Leonard pulled his best friend in for a hug. Jim just laughed, laid an arm over McCoy's shoulder, and leaned into the hug. 

"I only had to get tortured and offered to an alien God for you to hug me. Good to know," 

"Shut up Kid," 

Spock:

No one ever thought the words McCoy, Spock, and hug would ever be uttered but stranger things have happened on the Enterprise. 

No stranger than an alien device that turned back time. In a physical sense anyway. Leonard looked down at his adolescent hands and sighed with a heavy eye roll. "Not this again," he grumbled with a shudder. 

Looking around the room he saw Jim shouting at Mudd who had bought the alien weapon and decided to point it at him and Spock. McCoy tilted his head, his eyes going comically wide. 

Spock! 

Where was the green-blooded rugrat? Leonard looked around and sighed in relief at the sight of the first officer. He was hidden under a rickety wooden table. Crouching down Leonard gave Spock a small smile, he waved and gestured for the Vulcan to come closer. Apparently the younger you go the further your mind goes with it. Spock had a mentality of a...of well, a toddler. He couldn't have been more than two. 

Spock stared at Leonard intensely before darting out and crashing into his legs. McCoy stumbled a little before he got his footing. Spock looked up at him with wide scared eyes, tears threatening to fall. 'Must have gotten all Vucan-y at four or five,' Leonard thought as he picked up his friend. 

Leonard pulled Spock close, hugging him to his chest whispering softly. Spock seemed confused for only a moment before he buried his head into the young CMO's neck. 

Jim of course saw it all and later under the threat of meeting his end via an airlock kept his mouth firmly shut. The only thing the Starship Captain said -- which everyone agreed-- Doctor Leonard McCoy could absolutely cure a rainy day. 

Tags:

@lauraaan182, @chickadee-djarin, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234, @sayuri9908,

[bill-y]

INURE

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part five: Click here, butters, elpacho, last meheecan.

Part six: You're here, dumb!

Part seven: Finally here!

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Peeta and I end up helping Haymitch to his compartment, the reek of vomit and alcohol wasn't exactly pleasant.  Since we couldn't set him down the bed, we ended up hauling him to the bathtub, setting the shower on him. 

Peeta gave me an odd look when I laughed awhile ago; there was no humour in the situation after all. Forming a good impression wasn't really on my agenda. "It's alright; I can take it from here," he said.

I nodded, "Okay," I nodded, putting my lips together. "Do you—need me to call those Capitol people?" I asked, stumbling over my words. My confidence seemed to have been drained at some point.

He shook his head "No, I don't want them," he responded. I nod for the last time and head to my own room, relieved that I don't have to wash putrid vomit off Haymitch's chest hair, or something. Though it would be the perfect "revenge" for the people working here, I get why he doesn't want to see them. 

I wonder, why does he want to help such a wreck? Was he simply kind like the time he gave me bread? Or was he using this to gain Haymitch's favour? A feeling of nervousness bubbled up within me, a kind Peeta Mellark was way more dangerous than an unkind one. Not everyone in the district can afford to be kind, so kind people make such a mark on me.

I looked at the packet of cookies at the table beside the fancy bed—a lump formed in my throat. Kindness would've been nice, but not in this situation. I sighed, taking my attention to the window instead. 

There stood a lonely yellow flower, a dandelion. It took me back to the schoolyard, all those years ago. My eyes had just left Peeta's bruised face when I saw that dandelion; hope rose within me that moment, I plucked it gently from the ground and hurried home. I grabbed a small, broken bucket and grabbed Nal's hand and headed to a meadow. It was filled with the same flowers.

It was the first moment where Nal smiled after our Father's death. He loved the way the flowers smelled and looked. However, he was quite upset because we had to eat them, with the rest of the bakery bread. My father loved his plants, maybe a bit too much. 

I remember countless hours we spent in the woods looking for a specific type of plant, whether for eating or for medicine. He had me memorize them by heart, which took a couple of years because I got distracted halfway through. 

The next day, we were off to school. I hung around the edge of the meadow after, contemplating whether I should jump the fence. My mother couldn't get a job, well, she didn't want to. She thought the whole District would shame her the moment she stepped out of our crumbling home. It made no sense to me; we had nothing to lose anymore.

Which is exactly why I went under the fence, retrieved the old, leather-bound daggers my father made from scraps and wood. It was pretty frail, but if you handle it carefully and throw it properly, it won't break—most of the time.

I didn't go beyond twenty yards that day; I didn't feel confident enough to go deeper, fearing I'd get lost in the forest. I took home a small rabbit that day, we hadn't had meat for months, so it honestly looked like a full course meal, like the one we were served in the tribute train.

My mother isn't the greatest cook, so she burnt a couple of bits, mainly the thighs. But it still filled us. The woods became my second home, escaping the sad atmosphere my mother gave off and the pressure the Peacekeepers would regularly make us feel. 

The hunting started slow, but each time I went under, I went deeper. I stole eggs from nests, jumped from tree to tree and managed to shoot a squirrel or two down. I struggled with the fish; my father would always throw his dagger to the fish with little to no effort. Whenever I'd throw mine, it would miss. It took me a couple of times to figure out the water distorts my vision.

The plants were no effort; I knew which one to pick, which ones were poisonous. The signs of danger used to terrify me back to the fence until I gathered enough courage to climb the tall trees, then I stuck with it, not liking the feeling of being chased. The wild dogs would always leave me alone after a while.

On July 15th, I finally signed up for the tesserae, carrying the first batch of grains and oils in the same broken bucket I used to gather those dandelions. I patched it up with some scrap bark. On the 15th of every month, I would put my name once again. I still had to hunt; grains weren't enough. We still needed soap, milk, thread and many more things we used to have. I began to trade in the hob, learning how to hold my tongue in the process. My father used to trade there as well; he used to do all the talking while I watched, stayed silent. 

And so I simply tossed the game I had to their tables. They caught on fairly quick; I'd only speak up when it came to bargaining or when I'd change what'd I'd buy. Or when I would insult wild dog soup. My father was a charismatic man, always able to persuade people to buy whatever. Not me, though, I was like a sore thumb. Painful, to talk to at least.

My mother wasn't very enthralled with the fact that I had been hunting, too much like my father, she said. That's when we argued, "Don't be stupid like your father!" she shouted. I remember my face contorting to anger, how my fists clenched as she continued to scream. 

I finally exploded, "Why don't you go out and get a job if you don't want me hunting, then? You'd rather we starve?!" I said, slamming the table. "I won't die, I won't end up like father! I won't be Capitol's pig, neither was he!" 

"But if you do die?" She argued back, tears flowing down her cheeks as she gripped both my shoulders. "I'm only thinking of you, Y/n!"

I scoffed, glaring at her, "If you're thinking of us so much, then why aren't you helping us?! If I don't die being accused of rebellion, then I'll die because of those stupid games because of you!"

"Don't blame me for this! It was your father's fault for being brash—" She reasoned, but I cut her off by pushing her off me. I stared at her as if she grew three heads. "They asked you," I whispered, "All you did was nod, you could've lied."

Her green eyes shook at my words, "Lie to the Peacekeepers? The Capitol? And get us killed as well?! I only what your father wanted," 

"They didn't have anything on father! It was your voice that gave it away! It's your fault that he's dead, now we're over here starving because you can't get over yourself—"

Then there was a sting on my cheek. She had slapped me. My eyes landed on a crying Kunal; guilt surged through me, so I ran. I ran to the woods and slept on top of a tree, humming a soft tune to the mockingjays next to me. They listened and sung back. I fell asleep to their lullaby, surprisingly, not falling off.

I found my hand on the same cheek my mother slapped that day. I was going to die the same way I said, how ironic. I won't be able to apologize or tell my mother I loved her anymore. A sigh left my lips as I continued to stare out the window. 

I clenched my fists, punching the wall as my breath hitched. I let out a groan, holding the stinging part of my hand. I glared at the wall, grumbling under my breath before I decided to fall asleep, not wanting to think of my regrets and what I could've done. As I closed my eyes, I only hoped my dreams would be pleasant. 

"Up! Up! Up! It's a big big day!"

Effie Trinket's voice awoke me from my dreamless slumber. I groaned, muttering profanities as she left my compartment. I tried to imagine what it was like in that stupid wig--- well--- head of hers, it made my head hurt.

I had fallen asleep in the green shirt, causing it to become wrinkled, the. Not that I cared, there will be some stylist stripping me anyways. I shuddered at the thought of Capitol people touching me, what a nightmare. My eyes landed on the packet of cookies on my bedside table. I decided to grab it.

I entered the dining compartment, still half-lidded and yawning. Effie Trinket brushes me with a cup of black coffee. She was muttering obscenities, probably because of Haymitch. Peeta held a roll, looking somewhat embarrassed  "Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch said.

Peeta flashed me a smile, amused by how dishevelled I look. To be fair, I wasn't a morning person, I find waking up to be a tiring task. I rubbed my eyes, the packet of cookies still in my hands as I slid down the chair.

They served an enormous platter of food. I'd hate to admit it, but I was starving. So for the first time, I decided to stab it with the fork, not sure what to do with the cookies so I pocketed them. I figured I'd eat them much. . . much later.

I chewed slowly, glare on my face as my eyes struggled to remain open. I didn't even notice the orange juice next to me because of it. Peeta nudged me, handing me a cup of brown, rich liquid. It was quite warm. "They call it hot chocolate," he said. "It's quite good,"

My green eyes moved from him to the cup, then back to him. As if asking for permission. I sniffed, muttering a "thank you," before I took the cup from him. The moment the hot chocolate touched my lips I felt awake.

Not only was it hot, but it was also amazing. I've never tasted anything like this before. Coffee was a luxury, this I cannot even fathom. After I've drained my cup, I put it down and muster a sheepish smile. "Is there more?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

Effie seemed to be excited by my sudden interest. "Glad you're finally appreciating the finer things," she quipped as another cup was passed to me. "Right," I responded, gripping the cup tightly.

I stopped eating when I felt somewhat full, only asking for more hot chocolate. Peeta is still eating, breaking off bits of roll and dipping them in his hot chocolate.

Haymitch hasn’t paid much attention to his platter, but he’s knocking back a glass of red juice that he keeps thinning with a clear liquid from a bottle. Judging by the fumes, it’s some kind of spirit. I don’t know Haymitch, but I’ve seen him often enough in the Hob, tossing handfuls of money on the counter of the woman who sells white liquor. He’ll be a mess again by the time we reach the Capitol.

"So, you're supposed to give us advice," I said, taking a sip of the hot liquid. He grinned, "Here's some advice, stay alive," then he burst out laughing.

My brows furrowed, "Ha. Ha." I let out, unamused. I glanced to Peeta, surprised to see Hardness in his eyes. Usually, he looked mild. "That's very funny," he said as if adding to my remark. He suddenly lashed out at the glass in Haymitch's hands. It shattered, spilling the blood-red liquid on the floor. "Only not to us,"

Haymitch took this opportunity to punch Peeta straight in the jaw, knocking the boy out of his chair before turning around to reach for more spirits. I stopped him, driving a knife into the table, between his hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers.

I expected some sort of retaliation, but that didn't come. "Oh, well what is this?" he said. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

Peeta rose from the floor and scoops up a handful of ice from under the fruit tureen. He started to raise it to the red mark on his jaw.

"No," Haymitch stopped him. "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you’ve mixed it up with another tribute before you’ve even made it to the arena."

"That’s against the rules," said Peeta. "Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought, you weren’t caught, even better," said Haymitch. He turns to me. “Can you hit anything other than the table?"

I shrugged, pulling the knife off the table. "Your head or. . ." I said, before tossing the knife in between the seams of two panels. If I was confident at one thing, it's my aim. But not so much with a bow.

"Stand over here. Both of you," ordered Haymitch, nodding to the middle of the room. We obey and he circles us, prodding us like animals at times, checking our muscles, examining our faces. “Well, you’re not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you’ll be attractive enough.”

Peeta and I don’t question this. The Hunger Games aren’t a beauty contest, but the best-looking tributes always seem to pull more sponsors. Though I do enjoy the fact that the stylists are likely going to have a hard time styling me.

"All right, I’ll make a deal with you. You don’t interfere with my drinking, and I’ll stay sober enough to help you," said Haymitch. "But you have to do everything I say,"

Of course, there's a catch. "Fine," Peeta said while I shrugged carelessly, sipping on my hot chocolate. "In a few minutes, we’ll be pulling into the station. You’ll be put in the hands of your stylists. You’re not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don’t resist," Instructed Haymitch

Oh, well there goes my plan on being a general nuisance. Damn you, Haymitch.

He takes the bottle of spirits from the table and leaves the car. As the door swings shut behind him, the car goes dark. There are still a few lights inside, but outside it’s as if night has fallen again. I realize we must be in the tunnel that runs up through the mountains into the Capitol. The mountains form a natural barrier between the Capitol and the eastern districts. It is almost impossible to enter from the east except through the tunnels. This geographical advantage was a major factor in the districts losing the war that led to my being a tribute today. Since the rebels had to scale the mountains made them easy targets for the Capitol's air forces.

Peeta and I stood in silence. My finger raised, mouth opening but I decided it wasn't worth it and awkwardly shuffled to one of the windows. He seemed to have caught on, however. "Nice view, isn't it?" he joked.

"I guess if you're blind," I answered dryly, raising the warm cup to my lips. "Sophisticated darkness, my favourite type," I finished.

He chuckled, walking next to me, the train slowing on cue. My muscles tensed as the sunlight entered the compartment. It was blinding. After my eyes adjusted I finally saw the Capitol.

I would be lying if I said it wasn't beautiful. Rainbow hued buildings that tower to the sky, possibly beyond. Shiny cars rolling on the fancy, clean pavement streets. The cameras failed to capture its beauty. It would've been perfect if not for the fact that the oddly dressed colours, wearing blizzard wigs and painted faces exist.

They looked painfully artificial. I much prefer the natural tones of district 12. "Eugh, how do they look at themselves?" I muttered, catching the attention of Peeta, who chuckled at my comment.

Huh, I forgot that he was there.

The same disgusting people began to point at us, enthralled. I was sickened, they couldn't wait to watch us kill each other like wild wolves. I suppose that's better than ending up at soup.

I stepped back, a scowl on my face. No longer able to stand the obnoxious attires and the mocking smiles of scums. Peeta held his ground, smiling and waving at them.

He only stopped when the train stopped at the station, blocking up from their view. "Who knows?" he said. "Some of them may be rich."

My body seemed to freeze as I took one last sip of the now-luke warm hot chocolate. That's when I realized, I had misjudged him. Not that I can read people well.

Which made sense, if I could I would've known that his father visiting me, offering to help Haymitch only to challenge him and now, waving and smiling at those slugs. He had a plan in mind.

He hasn't accepted his death yet. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread was fighting hard.

And that terrified me.

word count: 2.8k

Hey guys! sorry for the long wait! Had to take a break!

tags;

@nin3s

[all-tea-is-leaf-juice]

Temporary Roombuddies

❤️Part 1❤️Zuko x F!reader❤️modern au❤️slight angst❤️

A/N: Hello! This is my first smau! Sorry if I have lots of typos and some of the times don't make sense. I've been reading a few of these and thought it'd be super cool to make one of my own! Later I'll post what their accounts look like. I'm open to suggestions and constructive criticism, if you think I can write one of the characters better then please don't hesitate to let me know! Enjoy♥️

✨Part 2✨

🌹If you'd like to be on a tag list then ask me!🌹

Word count: 1,067

It’d been at least five minutes since Sokka texted y/n and she had yet to start cleaning up. She didn't have the energy too or do anything for that matter. But guilt struck her once she realized she'd already blown him off once before. Sokka is one of her closest friends, no way could she disappoint him again. With that said y/n swung her legs off the bed and began cleaning up.

While picking up some trash in the living room y/n's reflection had caught her eye. A small gasp escaped from her chapped lips for seeing her eyes. They were puffy and red from last night’s crying session.

“Shit!” She cursed under her breath as she tossed the trash in the disposal bin and dashed for the bathroom. Anxiously she applied foundation as a base and sloppily put concealer under her eyes to hide away her eye bags.

It looks awful but it’s Sokka, he’s an idiot with makeup he won't notice. Y/N thought quickly, forgetting Sokka’s girlfriend is a makeup expert.

As if on cue there was a knock on the door. Just to be cautious: y/n took an extra minute to even out her makeup and even go as far as to apply mascara to take away from her exhausted look.

She tried clearing her throat of nervousness and plastered a smile across her lips. Then, she forced herself to open the door. Nearly immediately was she greeted with a tight bear hug.

“Been too long y/n! Tooooo long!” Sokka bubbled after setting y/n down from his unexpected embrace.

“Yeah,” she agreed “it’s good to see you too, Sokka-brah.”

Sokka’s face lit up like a child entering a toy shop at the revival of his old nickname. “You rightfully deserve this- VUALA!” He revealed an iHop bag that brought a smile upon y/n.

“Chocolate chip?” She cocked an eyebrow up, looking at him with a smirk.

“Chocolate chiiiiiip” Sokka confirmed by taking out the plastic container from the paper bag that held four chocolate chip pancakes.

Y/N grinned and nudged his arm “S’why you're my favorite.” She joked, knowing she doesn't really have favorites in her friend group.

So much time had passed and y/n didn't even realize it. Sokka was a good distraction from the anxiety that had overtaken her the past week. Together they ate, chatted, and even screamed answers at Family Feud like they used to. Before that y/n was convinced to “play tag” around her small apartment. She definitely worked up a sweat since she didn't really like being chased.

Once the game show cut to commercials their laughing slowly thinned out.

“Well, that was a good game-sesh.” Y/n huffed and leaned back. She looked over and caught Sokka staring at her “what?” She questioned.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” He asked skeptically.

Immediately y/n reached up and touched under her eyes. Unfortunately on y/n’s part she was an awful lair and sputtered her words “Uhm- enough..”

“Mhm,” Sokka crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes “how much really?”

In defeat, y/n lowered her head. “None..” For that, she got a flick to the forehead “Ow!”

Sokka stood from the couch and headed somewhere down the hall. Shortly after he came back with a small pack of makeup wipes and sat back down next to y/n, handing the small blue package to her.

“Now take it off and please be yourself around me, y/n.” There wasn't the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice, no, it was desperation. All he wanted was his friend to be honest with him, to tell the truth about what's wrong, to share her feelings.

Shame had overflown y/n’s senses; she hardly heard Sokka speak when he did. Carefully she took the makeup wipes and pulled one out, beginning to take her makeup off.

“How’d you know? About my sleeping- er, well, not sleeping.” She asked while rubbing the moist wipe in circular motions on her cheek.

“When I woke up today for work at 5 a.m. I checked my socials and saw you were online on Instagram. I knew it was unlikely of you to be up so early and you always fail at all-nighters.”

Y/N sighed “You know me too well.” By now she was done taking off the foundation and concealer and started on removing the mascara.

“Aaaand to go further on with my gloating I also knew you’d try to cover up your tiredness with makeup, therefore, I thought of ways to make you work up a sweat to ruin your makeup and THEN confront you about it.” He smirked.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him but couldn't help but smile. “Y’know I might just remove your position of being the favorite.” She finished taking off all of her makeup and tossed the used makeup wipe and packaging on the coffee table, leaning back to wait for Sokka’s interrogation.

“It’s my job to do this, I'm the plan guy! Also the boomerangs guy, the sarcastic guy, the hungry guy- you know what we’re getting sidetracked.” Sokka shifts so he’s facing y/n entirely.

Y/N avoids his gaze and finds her pancake scraps more interesting for that moment. She flinched a bit when she felt Sokka’s hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up.

“I want my y/n back.” His smile broke through to her enough to bring up threatening tears. The comforting friend noticed his friends’ eyes become glossy. Sokka went to wrap an arm around y/n but before he could she jumped into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered into his shoulder, “these past few weeks have just been so awful I just want to give up.” The little tears that she blinked from her eyes grew into full sobs. “I’m sorry I pushed you and the others away I never wanted that I thought if I closed off until it was over it’d all be fine but no it’s not-” her voice cracked while trying to shove all her feelings in one sentence “it’s not fine I'm worse than ever Sokka!”

Sokka rubbed y/n’s back and let her emotions fly high, he would ask questions later.

Right now, all she needs is to let go of the tension. He thought.

♥️I hope you enjoyed reading so far! I ready have parts 1-4 finished but I'll be waiting to see how well received this is before posting further on. Also this was just a tiny bit of sokka x reader ;P DW I promise nothing happens! Reblog and like if you enjoyed!♥️

🔥Zuko will be arriving in the next part~🔥

[t-lostinworlds]

Lost You (Shawn Mendes)

Feat. Tom Holland

A/N: Here is me trying to get back to writing haha and yeah, Tom Holland is here. First time ever writing him so please don’t kill me if it’s bad lakslaksal. This was written quickly too, supposed to be a blurb but got carried away. Also I don’t think this is the best I've written thus far so I’m sorry in advance if it sucks :/ Anyways, hope you still enjoy!

Requested: 

First of thank you so much sweets 🥺 that means the world. Second, I changed it up a bit, I hope it’s okay ❤️

Warnings: None and Typos

Word Count: 3.2k+

Masterlist in Bio

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[Images not mine]

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"Nervous?"

That all-too-familiar British accent made you look away from the car window, eyes landing on a handsome man who was sitting right beside you. A worried smile was etched on his lips as he tilted his head to the side, hand resting on your bare leg in a comforting manner, the car ride quiet aside from the soft music that the radio was playing and the soft mumbles of the other people accompanying you.

You couldn't stop yourself from admiring him as he was all groomed up, wearing a classic black suit that fitted is body perfectly, a white dress shirt paired with a bow tie, radiating that James Bond feel with his hair gelled back to give him that clean and sleek look.

You gave him a small nod. "A little bit. Thank you so much for coming with me Tom." You flashed him a grateful smile, placing your hand on top of his as you gave it a soft squeeze.

"Hey, of course, it's your first VMA's, I wouldn't miss it for the world. And I know how much you hate red carpets but still, you join me when I ask you to walk with me. The least I can do is return the favor."

You know that there was something more between you two other than being just casual friends, even Tom does too as he's already confessed to you how he really feels, but none of you has bother to do something about it yet, being that you've just broken up with your boyfriend not too long ago.

_______

You're still figuring yourself out and Tom being the kindest, most understand and sweetest person that he is, he respected that and has done nothing but be there when you needed him most.

"Have I already told you how gorgeous you look?" The young man grinned, eyes admiring you in a way that made your stomach do a flip.

"Yes, now quit ogling, your making me melt." You joked with a roll of your eyes, feigning a slight hint of annoyance in your voice that only made him chuckle. Tom was about to says something but didn't get a chance to respond as the car came to a halt, a crowded red carpet in full view once the both of you took a glance at the tinted window.

Tom interlaced his fingers with yours, giving it a comforting squeeze before his free hand took hold of the door handle. "Ready?"

You took one deep breath as you gave him the go signal, the door sliding open seconds later as he slowly stepped out of the car.

Tom helped you out like the gentleman that he is, your grip on his hand tightening as the flashing lights invaded your eyes in a matter of minutes, your name being screamed by dozens of photographers as they try to get a hold of your attention.

You wore your best smile as you threaded down the carpet, following the usherette assigned to guide the two of you and then stopping to pose as how these things always go.

Tom lets go of your hand to wrap an arm around your waist, your eyes meeting his as he gave it a reassuring squeeze to let you know that he's got you. The amount of time the two of you had walked the red carpet this past few months made him understand why you don't liked carpet. You do get a bit flustered with this much attention, like your being held under a magnifying glass and that one wrong move could be seen even if it's miniscule.

You mirrored his smile as your turned around to fully face him, hand coming up to fix his bow tie as both of his took home on your hips.

"Why did you wear a bow tie? You know very well that you can't keep this straight not matter how hard you try." You teased, hand sliding down his chest once the tie was straight enough for your liking.

The flashing lights and the screaming were never ending but you've learned to tune it out for the amount of times you've done this already. Tom chuckled as he guided you further down the carpet again, stopping to take another pose before he spoke.

"I mean you do like it more when I wear this than a regular tie. You think I look ravishing, you just hate to admit it." Tom retorted with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at that. "Oh please, don't be so full of yourself Holland."

It was going great so far, all laughs and smiles between you and Tom but of course, that only lasted for a moment as you heard the paparazzi scream the names of the people you weren't exactly keen to see.

What a way of the universe to joke that they had to arrive just after you did. You were praying, begging that you could at least walk the carpet without seeing that specific familiar face, but we don't always get what we want in this world do we.

Tom felt you tense up a little bit his head turning to see what was wrong, but when he finally heard who has just arrived, he was quick to switch from playful to overprotective mode, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you closer to his side.

"You alright?" Tom leaned closer to whisper in your ear. You nodded with a hum, your faces just an inch away as he pulled back, the concern on his features only lasting a split second as it was quick to change, his smile now wide and bright as he looked at you adoringly.

"He's watching." He spoke between his grin once he took in your confused expression and you were impressed at how fast he can change his mood all of the sudden, but then again, he is an amazing actor after all.

You flashed him a thankful smile, glad that he understood why you're suddenly uncomfortable without having to explain it. So grateful that he was here just as how he's been from the beginning.

With a deep intake of breath, you willed yourself to ignore them, to not even have a peek as you focused on the tasked at hand, focusing more at the gentleman beside you.

Just grin and bear it Y/N, carpet is almost done.

Shawn however, was having a really hard time ignoring you.

Though he was walking with someone else, he can't stop himself from stealing quick glances in your direction whenever he can, making sure that he was doing it as discreetly as he could. The internet would go crazy if he gets caught longingly looking at someone who they only knew was his friend. You never did go public, you didn't get the chance to as everything when south in a blink of an eye. But seeing you right now in the flesh after many months, Shawn feels like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

He was in awe to say the least.

You wore a fitted sheer dress covered in silver stones and glitters, the garment hugging your body in the right spots giving you a beautiful figure that was making Shawn's head spin. More so with that plunging neckline that showed just enough for it look classy, along with a low back that made the dress look even sexier. As if that wasn't enough, the dress had a slit that showed off those legs in the most elegant way possible.

Your hair was up in a messy bun with a simple yet glamorous makeup, and that beautiful smile of yours that he'd always fall for. Shawn was at a loss for words at how breathtaking you look, you always do that to him no matter the occasion, and you never fail to do so, even to this day.

But his daydreaming was cut short when he finally noticed that you weren't alone too, a certain pang in his chest when you seem to look so happy in the arms of another.

The break up was entirely his fault.

He made a choice thinking that it was for the best, but now he was starting to think otherwise and he was slowly and painfully swallowing the consequences thus far.

Shawn got pulled straight out of his thoughts once your eyes met his the moment you looked over your shoulder. He blinked a couple of time to check if he wasn't hallucinating, seeing a bright smile painted on your lips as you gave him a curt nod, no ill-will written on your face before you broke his gaze, turning to face the person who stood too close by your side for Shawn's liking.

The way his arm was laced on your waist was not sitting well with Shawn at all, especially when this Tom guy was looking at you in a way that he used to. But what truly hurts was that familiar look of adoration on your beautiful face, the one you always gave Shawn whenever you're proud of him. That certain look that was used to be for him and him only, keyword: used to.

This made him think that maybe he was too late, and that you've finally moved on. That he's truly lost you fully this time.

He shook his head with a clear of his throat, standing straighter as he shoved all his thoughts in the back of his head, wrapping his arm around the girl beside him as he smiled at the cameras.

This was going to be a long night.

***

It was commercial break and you were thankful, your bladder just couldn't seem to hold it for much longer. You turned to Tom, nudging his arm as he was busy talking with someone's brother that you didn't quite catch the name of.

"I'm just gonna go the bathroom real quick." You whispered once his attention was on you, slowly getting out of your seat only for Tom to do the same. "I can take you–"

"No silly, it's fine. I'll be back as fast as I can I promise." You giggled, gently pushing him back down as you waved at the person he was taking to.

"Okay then, be careful you clumsy woman." Tom gave you a playful wink with a soft chuckle, you shaking your head in response, mumbling a soft 'shut up' before you walking off.

You reached an empty hallway that one of the staff members pointed you towards, the door of the bathroom coming to view moments later but that's when you heard rushed footsteps behind you, your mind immediately thinking that it was Tom following you as he was the only one who knows where you've gone.

"I thought I told you I can handle myself and pee alone Tom?" You giggled, turning around only to stop dead in your tracks as you were met by a familiar man, too familiar for your taste, one that sported those unruly curls on top of his head.

"Shawn." You breathed out, face contorted in sheer surprise as you were not expecting him at all.

"Y/N, hey." He flashed you a shy smile, both hands in his pockets as he slowly walked closer to you, stopping himself once you took a step back, sadness flashing across his features and you tried your hardest not to scoff out loud.

"What are you doing here?" You asked skeptically, crossing your arms over your chest, but not in an intimidating way, no, it was more as a defensive stance, shielding yourself in a sense.

The break up wasn't a mutual decision, nor did it end on a good note. It was painful, very painful.

It left you in such a dark place and you worked so hard to get yourself out of there. You've made your progress but you aren't exactly fully out yet, you are still in the process of healing as wounds are still a bit fresh, and there is no way in hell you're letting him pull you right back in.

"Just wanted to see you... I miss you."

You shut your eyes tight with a sigh as you shook your head at him. "Don't. Just don't."

Shawn didn't seem to get the hint as he only took a few more steps closer to you, lips parted slightly as he took you in completely. "You look so beautiful." He gushed, fingers absentmindedly pushing a strand of hair behind your ear once he was in close proximity, so close that you just had to look up at him.

You stood there frozen in your spot, heart beating rapidly against your chest as you found yourself stuck under his gaze. Those familiar brown eyes will always have a hold against you, especially when he's looking at you so yearningly, a certain glow crossing his features as is if he was too glad to be close to you again.

The more you stared into his eyes, the more you felt your walls slowly slip, so you pulled your head away from his grasp, clearing your throat as you took two steps back, a deep frown quick to appear on Shawn's lips but you paid it no mind.

"I'm sorry but I need to go." You hastily walked pass him but being the stubborn boy that he is, he took hold of your arm to pull you right back.

"No, wait." Shawn spun you around to face him again, both hands now gripping your elbows to keep you in place, his grasp firm but not too much for it to hurt. His action only made your annoyance grow, a slight anger now slowly boiling to the surface as you gave him a pointed look. "Let go of me Shawn."

The slight waver in your voice made Shawn drop his hands, the frown on his face never leaving as his brain slowly processed how you actually didn't want him near at all. It hurts to say the least but Shawn can't blame you.

He can only imagine what you've been true. The pain he's caused seemingly unforgivable that he, himself would want nothing to do with him either.

"Can you at least give us the chance to talk?" Shawn sounded so desperate but he didn't care. He was holding onto his last beacon of hope, that maybe deep inside, you still have feelings for him, that you still love him just as how he still loves you.

You let out an exasperated sigh. "There's nothing left to talk about Shawn. We broke up months ago. We are done. I've been moving on and you have no right to try and pull me back in now when I've been doing so much better than when you left me. And just to clarify, you have a girlfriend."

Shawn ran a frustrated hand through his curls. "Please honey, I've been regretting things a lot and I can't apologize enough for what I've done. I was stupid and I've been wanting to kick my ass every single day from the moment I hurt you. And seeing you today with Tom, how you look so happy with him, it fucking hurts so bad. I miss you so much, I want you back angel, I need you back Y/N."

A sarcastic laugh left your mouth before you could even stop it, eyes rolling as you shook your head at him in pure disbelief. "Wow. You're being unfair Shawn. Now that I'm happy and have been better, you suddenly want me back? When you see me with someone else you suddenly miss me? You had months to reach out to me Shawn. Fucking months, but not once did you ever think about calling me. I'm not going to be some girl who you only show interest to when it benefits you."

Shawn shook his head, bottom lip trembling as he took your hand in his, and you let him but never did you show him that it affected you in any way. "No that's not the reason. I still love you Y/N, I really do. Please just give me another chance."

You sighed, gaze softening as you watch him slowly break in front of you, but you weren't giving in, you've grown stronger since that day and you've learned to stand your ground, to do what's best yourself. "You've been living your best life during those months, touring the world, frolicking the streets while I was suffering in the pain that you've caused. I don't want to go through it again because it fucking hurts Shawn. It was a hard battle but I've overcome it. Maybe not fully yet but I am getting there, and I'm not letting you jeopardize that. You were a beautiful mistake, but I can't anymore. I'm done. Now will you please, let me go."

"No, angel please just–"

"Y/N! Is everything alright?" A huge relief washed over your body as that familiar voice bounced off the cream colored walls. Shawn's whole body going rigid as he closed his eyes, jaw clenching at the interruption.

"I'm sorry Shawn, but I think it's best that we keep our distance. You need to sort yourself out as do I." You whispered, slowly pulling your hands out of his grip and making your way towards Tom.

"Hey Tom, you know Shawn and yeah, everything's fine." The curly boy turned at his name, a tight lip smile on his face as he gave you both a curt nod.

"Hey man, nice to finally meet you." Tom moved forward as he reached a hand out, a friendly smile on his lips but you didn't miss his tight grip once Shawn took it, the tension between the two rising as Tom shook Shawn's hand hard and firm.

You saw Shawn's jaw visible clench as he slowly nodded his head, standing tall and strong with his nostrils slightly the flaring once Tom lets go of his hand. "Likewise. Big fan of the films."

You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes as Shawn's voice got deeper than normal, the stare between the two looking like some high school confrontation.

Tom only chuckled with a nod. "Thanks mate. Appreciate it." He didn't wait for Shawn to respond as he turned his attention to you, hand wrapping around your waist in a sweet yet protective manner. "Tricia's been looking for you. It's almost your turn to perform love."

You flashed him a bright smile, a silent communication happening between you two and Shawn felt his heart sink to his stomach, eyes falling to the floor as he couldn't bear to watch you two any longer.

"Let's get going then. I still need to change. I'll see you around Shawn." You gave him one last smile before turning your back on him, walking down the hall to where you came from, wondering what both of your futures hold.

Shawn only watched as you disappeared out of sight, heart breaking into pieces as he slowly felt his knees give out, a tear slipping out of his eyes at that the thought that he's pushed you away, so far and into the arms of someone else.

He really has lost you for good this time, another consequence of his mistake that he has no choice but to endure and face.

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[some-stars]

Untamed anon from earlier again - sorry I didn’t see your response sooner, and thank you! Untamed is definitely the kind of fandom to hook you away from everything else lol. For a more detailed hook, perhaps Yen and Geralt are super turned on by Jaskier unexpectedly helping save them in a fight, and post-battle adrenaline leads to fun? No worries if it’s too late in the day now though!

(Please note: I can’t edit this or the cut tag will break, so if you notice any typos or whatnot, forgive me, I’ll fix it when it goes up on AO3.)

--

He doesn't mean to get involved with the fight. He's really quite comfortable observing these things from a safe distance, despite Geralt's grousing about him getting in the way. But when one of the soldiers gets a lucky hit that sends Yennefer to the ground and tears Geralt's attention away, and a fifth one approaches from behind the tree Jaskier is perched and hidden in, raising his crossbow—well, there's really nothing to do but leap directly onto the man's head like a leopard ambushing its prey. Although a leopard probably wouldn't scream at quite such a high pitch as it leapt.

He honestly doesn't hope to do more than distract the soldier long enough for Geralt to do—well, something—but his weight combined with the surprise topples the man flat, and then, well, he does have his dagger in his hand, and suddenly he's sitting on top of a dying man. It's not exactly pleasant, but the adrenaline overpowers any sense of revulsion for the moment.

He barely has time to realize what he's done before Geralt is swinging his sword with a roar in an arc that takes out the last two soldiers. Yennefer pushes herself up to hands and knees, eyes squeezed shut in pain, and Geralt runs to her, kneeling in front of her.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, one hand skimming over her head where the blow landed. She winces and pulls away.

"I'll be fine," she snaps. "Just let me—" She draws in a deep breath and murmurs something in Elder speech, and he watches her shoulders straighten as the pain drops away. Geralt sits back, looking relieved.

"So, uh," Jaskier says, and their heads both turn abruptly toward him. "I know I said I wouldn't get involved, but, well." He gestures at the man who, he realizes, he's still sitting on top of. With only slightly shaky legs, he stands up and goes to join them, bloody dagger in hand.

"Jaskier," Yennefer says, eyes wide and—gratifyingly—worried.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Geralt growls, which is how Jaskier knows he's also worried.

They both descend on him, patting him down for injuries as he protests that he's fine, he got the drop on the guy, it was actually really impressive— "He was going to kill you," he says as Geralt frowns, "he had a crossbow and you weren't looking, I couldn't just let him."

They both look at him then in a way that—well, he doesn't usually associate it with being covered in blood (apparently neck wounds spray a lot).

"So," he continues, a little warily, "I know you don't like it when I get involved in fights, but I think some thanks might not go amiss?"

There's a long moment as they look at each other, exchanging some silent communication that he can't decipher, and then back at him in a way that he absolutely can decipher, but very much did not expect.

"Thank you, Jaskier," Yennefer says—purrs, really—and seizes his mouth in a devouring kiss. He drops his dagger, startled, and a second later he feels Geralt behind him, huge and heavy and enveloping.

"Thank you," Geralt murmurs, lips tickling his ear. Apparently the adrenaline hasn't worn off for them either.

When Yennefer lets him breathe again, Jaskier says, "Not that I object, but could we maybe go somewhere without so many dead bodies lying around? Just, you know, the mood."

Geralt hmms in a way that indicates he, personally, has no such compunctions. Yennefer steps back, waves a hand and makes a complicated motion with her fingers, and murmurs something under her breath, and suddenly the clearing is empty. The grass is still bloodstained, but, well, one can't have everything, Jaskier decides, and happily lets them pull him down to the ground (in a dry patch, thankfully).

He's been the focus of both their attentions before—he's more amenable to that than either of them, however much they always end up enjoying it when he can coax them to let him spoil them—but never with quite this intensity. They team up to undress him with blinding speed, Yennefer on top and Geralt on his trousers, and he definitely hears fabric tear but it doesn't seem worth complaining about when Yennefer shoves him flat on his back and swings a leg over him, hiking up her skirts and grinding her slick cunt against his cock as it rapidly hardens.

"Fuck," he mutters, almost dazed with the speed of it all. He reaches up to touch her, wanting to ground himself somehow (and also just to touch her breasts, which are magnificent even clothed and he will never get enough of), but she shakes her head sharply.

"Hold him," she says, looking over at Geralt, who is watching with evident hunger in his golden eyes. Jaskier lets out an undignified sort of gurgle as heat spikes through his stomach and his cock stands fully to attention.

In the blink of an eye Geralt is behind him, tugging his arms over his head, holding his wrists in an iron grip that Jaskier simply has to tug against, just for the pleasure of failing to move even a single inch. Which is when Yennefer shifts, rises up on her knees, and sinks down onto him, wet heat embracing his cock in a tight clasp that makes his hips buck up into her helplessly.

Usually when they're fucking him he talks, at least until he can't anymore—pleas, swears, stupid jokes, whatever nonsense happens to pour out of his mouth. It's just how he is, but right now all he can do is gasp for air and stare at Yennefer as she rides him fast and hard, at Geralt's eyes fixed unswervingly on his face, and moan loudly as they take him apart.

It doesn't last long—he supposes adrenaline rushes will do that—before Yennefer is shouting wordlessly and clenching tight around him, before he grinds his hips up against hers and comes inside her with his eyes fixed on Geralt's fiercely intent gaze. She topples off gracelessly and lies beside him, panting.

Geralt lets him go then, and Jaskier tugs at his arm. "Come on, come here," he says, pulling him down—not that he can actually pull him, of course, but the request is clear enough, and Geralt joins them on the ground. A glance at his trousers makes it clear that Jaskier's work is not done here. He rolls over on top of Geralt and kisses him, and it's as though he hit some kind of release lever��Geralt's arms wrap tight around him and he kisses back like he's starving for it.

When Jaskier tries to pull away Geralt growls and holds him tighter. Yennefer laughs.

"What do you want?" she asks, rolling closer, sliding a hand through Geralt's hair. "You want his mouth? I'd offer his ass, but we don't have the supplies."

"Excuse me," Jaskier says indignantly, between kisses. "I can offer my own ass, thank you very much."

Geralt shakes his head. "Just this," he says, "like this," and wraps a leg tightly around Jaskier as he grinds up against his bare thigh. The thought of it—primal, clumsy, desperate—sends a shot of lightning down Jaskier's spine.

"At least let me get you out of your trousers," he offers, and with a huff Geralt lets go, lets Jaskier make enough space between them to undo his buttons and pull his cock out, then yanks him close again and goes back to rutting against him.

That doesn't take very long either; Jaskier kisses him all through it, and shivers as Yennefer murmurs soft encouragement to Geralt, tugging lightly at his hair until he groans out his release into Jaskier's mouth and spills hot and wet between their bodies.

For a minute there's no sound, after, except the three of them breathing hard and the ever-present rustle of small creatures in the woods.

"Honestly," Jaskier says finally, "if I'd known it would turn you both on this much I would have killed someone ages ago."

Yennefer slaps him upside the head, which at this point in their relationship is more satisfying than it should be. He rolls off Geralt onto his back, feeling sticky and contented as the rush of battle and then sex finally starts to disperse.

"It wasn't a reward," Geralt grumbles, making no move to get up.

"Yes, yes, I know," Jaskier says. "We all just got caught up in the excitement, et cetera, et cetera. But you must admit, I did save your lives."

Yennefer scoffs, and Geralt hmphs, and Jaskier lies peacefully naked in the grass and preens.

[toast-the-unknowing]

Hi. Hope you're doing okay. I'm a newbie fic writer and am hearing a lot about betas. I wanted to know: do you have a beta reader or critique partner? Do you beta their fics in return? Does this person need to know my fandom? I'm worried I'll have to go thru a few ppl to find someone who suits me.

I don’t have a beta at the moment. I’ve used them in the past, usually in a one-off kind of way; I haven’t had a regular standing arrangement with one person who was “my” beta since, oh Lord, the late aughts. I’ve also beta read for people in the past, but I don’t think I ever beta read for anyone who beta read for me; it was more one-off kinds of things.

There are a lot of different forms that a beta/writer relationship can take, so the most important thing if you decide you want one is to figure out what you are looking for from your beta and then find a beta who wants to provide that.

Do you want someone to check SPAG -- spelling and grammar -- and catch your typos and your there/their/they’re mixups

Do you want a beta who will check for the readability of your story on a more stylistic level and let you know when your long flowery sentences have gotten too damn long or when you’ve used the same adjective six times in this scene so pick something else

Do you want a beta who will give you feedback on whether your story works as a whole, whether the plot/pacing/character arcs need work

Do you want a beta who will help you make sure your characters are in character

Do you want a beta who will check your story for canon compliance

Do you want a beta who will check your story for factual accuracy

Do you want a beta who can read your work for sensitivity and representation around issues of race, disability, etc.

Do you want a beta who will read a story that is still in the works and help you figure out how to get it where you want it to be

It’s okay to want some of these and not others. I am selfish writer and a youngest child who grew up with a lot of hand-me-down clothes and so never feels like she has enough stuff for HERSELF, so I do not appreciate some other person swanning into my story and telling me that the plot needs to change or that my characters are acting wrong. Sometimes I do just get stuck on a story, or have a particular concern, and I want some input, but in those cases I usually just talk to a trusted friend about the story and see if they have any suggestions. Sometimes just talking about it helps me find the solution for myself.

(I could use SPAG and readability help -- every writer alive could -- but by the time a story is done I just want to POST IT and be DONE with it, I do not want to email it to someone and get it back a week later and put more work into it and maybe need to email it back again, OH MY GOD, THE BABY IS BORN, JUST CUT THE UMBILICAL CORD ALREADY)

So in the past when I’ve had betas, and if I have a beta again, I would go into the arrangement saying “hey, I want you to check SPAG, and readability on a scene level, and let me know if you spot anything that’s just flat out inaccurate, but I don’t want character or plot notes.”

This also comes back to the “trusted friend” thing. You might start off with a beta that you ask for SPAG and fact checking, and then over time you get a feel for how they work and their taste and abilities, and decide, yeah, actually, I do trust this person to give me feedback on the bigger elements. You can let them know and see if they’d be into that! It’s not written in stone. Waaaay back when I was writing shippy fic for the first time ever, I used to die of embarrassment writing romantic scenes. Which is, uh, kind of a problem for ship fic. I talked about it with my beta and she had some suggestions for me about how to work through that that were really helpful -- but we’d worked together before that; I don’t know that I would have asked just anyone for that kind of help.

Does a beta have to know your fandom -- depends on what you want. If you want a beta who can tell you if your characters are acting true to themselves, or who can catch it if you screw up a canon detail -- yup, you need someone who knows your canon. For proofing, flow, sensitivity? Nope. A good beta can also comment on your plot structure, pacing, tone, character arcs etc. even without knowing canon, although they may give you the odd note that doesn’t work. My brother beta’d a fic for me once and mentioned it was weird that there was a character referenced in the very beginning of the fic who never appeared and was never mentioned again -- but that was the point, and I trusted that people who knew canon would realize that the other characters were trying and failing the entire story to ignore that character’s absence. So I didn’t change it.

Anything a beta tells you is a suggestion. Okay, not whether “dessert” has one s or two, but anything else. If they say “that line doesn’t work for me” but you really like it, keep it. If they tell you that your characters need another scene or two to work through their issues but you think they’re good, let it ride. Or, try to figure out if there’s something else you can change; a reader might pick up on the fact that there’s something wrong with the story without being able to accurately pinpoint what is wrong with the story.

Not every beta is going to be a good fit for you, or for your particular story. This is why you need to talk all of this through before they start working. Tell them your ships, your concept, your story length, your rating. Tell them the kind of beta reading you want. Avoid a situation where they don’t get your fic back to you for weeks because they didn’t have enough time to proof a 100k epic, or where they give you a lot of critical notes you weren’t expecting and feel hurt by, or where they have to read something that makes them uncomfortable or do a lot of research on something they didn’t know about. Better to find out ahead of time that you’re not a good match and keep looking.

Once you’re found them...well, I am sorry to say, you probably will have to go through a few people before you find someone who suits you. Especially if your beta isn’t someone you knew previously, as a friend or as a writer, you can’t really say whether they’ll have feedback you find useful, or whether the two of you can communicate effectively, or whether they’re reliable and timely, or whether you guys have complementary tastes and priorities. Better to accept that now and plan for it. When you find someone who’s willing to beta, while you’re figuring out what that beta-ing is going to entail and the best ways to communicate with each other and a rough timeline for them getting back to you, set up the arrangement as a one-time thing. “Hey, do you want to beta this story for me,” not “hey, do you want to be my beta.” If you liked your experience working with them, you can always ask if they’ll beta another story for you. If you didn’t (and the more you want from your beta above basic SPAG, the more likely you’ll feel a disconnect), shake hands, part as friends, and try another beta.

You don’t have to stick with the first beta you meet if it’s not a good fit. I hear discord fandom chats can be places to find betas, but do not ask me how or why because I don’t use discord and I don’t know. You can try posting in your author’s notes on your fic that you’re looking for a beta and see if someone reaches out to you. If you notice the same commenter popping up in multiple stories, you can try reaching out to them and asking, very nicely and ready to hear a “no,” whether they’d be interested in beta-reading for you. Just go in with a clear understanding of what you want, communicate that, and see if they’re willing and able to provide.

[prorevenge]

Bully me for four years, I'll make sure you go nowhere in life.

I apologize for the unusually long back story TL; DR at the bottom.

So to understand all of what I'm going to write its important to understand that I was bullied heavily in school. I have talked now and again about it here in the past and understanding this is important to understand why this person effected me so much. After leaving school things started to get better, it took me a while to recover with the help of some great friends. At one point I needed to start looking for work. At this point, it was 2005 - 06. Things weren't going so well in the job market around my area and being broke I couldn't just leave for better pastures so I ended up joining the army instead. It didn't last (that's another story), what's important happened after. While I was away my friend's group picked up a couple more nerds for the crew. Among these was useless bully (or UB for short). Thing is that this guy was a gamer like everyone else for the exception of one large quark. He was very egotistical and really liked talking shit. It didn't take long for him to single me out, it really does seem like bullies can sniff out what they call a good target. He really likes to talk shit, often crossing the line between common bullcrappery and real insults. It was obvious he didn't seem to like me but for some reason liked having me around. Some of my other friends even noticed and tried getting him to stop but he took it like a badge of honor, even told me so himself once. I'm not going to get any deeper about what he did as its not the point of this story.

So now you ask why did I stick around and why did my friends put up with such a douchebag. Well, for one thing, I knew my friends far longer then he was around and they were fine. They themselves weren't good at conflict and UB was very smart. He knew exactly what to say to skirt around things if needed. So part of the time they would enable him and the rest he knew how to manipulate them so they would give a pass. It was an abuse cycle, he would act like an asshat one moment and the next to be all nice, in the end, they got too used to this and became a little blind to what he was doing.

But let's continue. I'll start with one particular event that started it all. As anyone who knows me knows, I'm a computer geek. I like to work on them, build them and so on, and it's important to know that so does UB. Like a typical bully, he labeled me as incompetent in all things and treated me accordingly. So to him, I am not even a novice, even though by the time I met him I already started building. Enter that key moment. One night after a night of LOL (League of Legends) I decided to ask the guys something. I asked him and the rest what the L cache was for a CPU. Something I didn't know yet at the time. He, of course, blew me off. Later that night I googled it and while doing so I had an epiphany. Just because UB refused to be helpful shouldn't mean I can't be. So I started offering help at work, beginning with word of mouth then over time I went freelance and time marched on. I eventually moved away met my now wife and broke ties with UB. I kept up with some of my friends though, if they wanted to be friends with him I didn't care as long as they respected the fact that we won't be going near each other.

Time still passed, I got better as a freelancer and eventually earned my way into a legit IT job in my home town. Things are great, one of my dream jobs. Eventually, the shit hit the fan when not long ago my co-worker got fired for doing something he shouldn't have done. (Don't ask, I'm not going to post any info about it.) This of course left a spot open. In the search for a replacement, I offered the spot to one of my friends who declined, but through him, as I found later, UB found out. Low and behold a couple of applicants later he showed up for an interview. My boss sets these up and would take my exco-worker to the interviews, but now I fill that role. So when UB showed up I was surprised, I kept my cool though and so did he. It was obvious he recognized me but shown no fear. Remember this guy is really egotistical and probably thinks things are in the bag already. The interview was normal, I'll skip to the nitty-gritty here so I'll skip to the later part of the interview. Please note that any extra info trickled to me over the years was from the friends that still hang out with him.

B =Boss UB= Useless bully Me=Me and only me.

B: Do you have any experience in an independent team environment?

UB: I'm a manager at Wall-Mart and I know the ins and outs of teamwork. I can handle myself. (Note he managed the electronics and wasn't very respected)

Me: Do you have any experience with a ticket system or ordering system.

UB: No, but I think I can handle it.

Boss: On your resume, you turned in says you went to college for a degree in computer repair but you forgot to put in when. When did you get your degree?

UB: I forgot to finish that I actually finished a year ago.

I knew this was bs, he actually graduated a year before I met him so it's been over a decade by this point. At this point, I started to lay down some pressure and sow the roots of this mans demise.

Me: In your resume, it only shows you working at two different places and there is a time gap in between both of several years, can you explain that?

UB: Oh that was a typo I worked at xx place for a while, I ended up quitting and a month later I started as a manager at Wall-Mart.

Note that made that whole thing suspicious because I knew for a long time he job hopped a lot, even while we hung out he lost three jobs. He did actually get hired straight into his role at Wall-Mart but he didn't mention the job where earned his way up to that position and got fired for being an asshole to his co-workers.

Me: If a computer went down on the shop floor, how would you handle the situation?

UB: I would go down and fix it duh.

Me: What if it was completely unserviceable.

UB: No, there is nothing I can't fix.

His ego was showing through, just as I wanted. Time to start cutting this interview down to size.

Me: So if the memory were to say go bad, your telling me you could fix that?

UB: Well I'm sure I could handle it.

My boss looked at me a bit wondering about why I kept going with it but he let me continue.

UB: Don't you have replacements for memory and things?

Me: Some times.

UB: Well that's bull.

I was surprised he said that but I knew he was starting to slip. He gets mouthy when he feels his ego is being stroked even if it's just him doing the stroking.

Me: So out of your experience, would you say you are a hardware specialist or a program specialist.

UB: I can do both but I can lean towards hardware. I can fix anything you toss my way.

Me: So lets test that a bit. Boss do you have any hardware questions you want answering?

Boss: Sure, how long does a coax cable have to be before any signal degradation starts?

UB: uhhu.

He struggled, I could tell he slipped, that question is my bosses go to question because most people don't know it and he really just wants to see how they respond.

UB: I don't remember at the moment, I did some work hooking up cable for people in the past when the cable company needed some help so I'll remember it sooner or later.

MORE BS.

My boss was seeing through it to, he knows this business like the back of his hand so he knows what's up.

Boss: "Me" do you have any questions?

The sign my boss was done with the interview.Me: Sure just one last question.

I turn to UB and I grin. I look him dead in the eye and ask.

Me: So what's the purpose of the L cache of a standard CPU?

He went white, he knew the jig was up. I don't think he fully knew what I meant but he knew enough to know when to give up.

UB: I don't know that one, it was never brought up in class.

I accepted his last statement, and we ended the interview. My boss told him he would be contacted within 24 to 48 hours with any results. He left and my boss looked at me a little annoyed. He asked me what was going on and I explained it all. That I knew UB, what kind of person he was and about the lies on his resume and in the interview. I told him I just wanted to give him a chance to either mess it up or prove he could handle it. My boss is pretty understanding so he let it go. Needless to say, UB was not chosen to fill the vacant spot.

Two days later UB showed up at my door unexpected. It was Saturday and I figured he found my place through one of the others. My wife answered the door not knowing who he was. Dude fricken walked in like he owned the place. I stopped him at the front mudroom, there was no way I was going to let him in any further. Note that there was more yelling than this but I cut it down for simplification.

UB: So what the hell happened?

Me: What not even a hello how are you?

UB: I never got a callback so I called to ask and they said I didn't get the job.

Dude had a bad tone in his voice, I knew he was here just to rage. A person that egocentric always blames others and I was target numero uno.

Me: What the hell are you here for!?

UB: What the hell did you tell him about me?

Me: Nothing that wasn't true, now get the fuck out!

UB: Bullshit, I know you can't really handle that kind of work, what did you do, suck some one-off? You just didn't want around because you know I would upstage you!

Me: What the hell would you know, you wouldn't even let me talk about computers when we hung out, you just labeled me and treated me like shit. Dude, I told my boss exactly what happened, how it happened, I didn't have to lie or exaggerate. You choose to act terribly, you choose to bully someone, you choose to create a bad representation of your self, as far I see it, its just karma. If you really cared instead of barging into my house you would be trying to fix where you fucked up.

UB: I don't need to do anything, go back and fix it!

Me: Screw you get the hell out before I call the cops.

UB: I'm not afraid of them.

Me: Fine!

I yelled to my wife to call the cops, after this UB new I wasn't screwing around and left in a huff.

The aftermath so far from this is him calling everyone he could to tell them how bad of a person I am like some 14-year-old kid bitching to his classmates at school. Figures because of how immature he really is, or at least, in my opinion anyway. So far no one has taken him seriously enough and some of my friends said he is still fuming but pretty demoralized. As for the position, it has yet to filled.

TL;DR Friends introduce a bully to the group, he shits on me for four years so years later I screw him out of his dream job and a better life.

(source) story by (/u/Atlusfox)