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amethystfairy1 · 3 months ago

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hi I'm back again already lol, bc u really ought to know all the great things about ttsbc that I was too lazy to write out last time lmao.

Also! totally fine that ur not doing skizzpulse, you should write what inspires/motivates you (personally very motivated by them xD I've written ~90k words of skizzpulse myself rip)

Anyways, good things! You! you're the good things! I honestly can't remember when I last sent an ask in for the lil guys, so I'm just gonna say something I loved about each of their recent arcs.

First, Treebark. There's been so many identity reveals but I think this has been my favorite thus far. Ren going all protective boyfriend and fighting over Martyn was SO GOOD, plus soft kisses and they can just hold hands now without Ren being afraid he'll figure it out. Also loved Martyn seducing his entire family while being terrified out of his mind by big dog people with knives, like, I'd be a little out of it too. but the fam doesn't even notice but Ren did and is all supportive and comforts him, offers to take him home. I love how well they can read each other, like they're just in tune. they're soulmates, your honor. and, AND this means we can have double dates where they all know now! so excited :)))))

Zedango. this is what started me reading your stuff (the first fic I ever wrote was actually my own tt zedango ficlet, btw. that feels like an eternity ago now) I love how they've simultaneously progressed and devolved into slightly unhealthy relationship territory. something about not everything being perfect all the time just adds so much depth and realism to their relationship, as well as keeping the plot tense without feeling like you're making up problems just to have something to write about. AND THEN Tango doing the blazeborn courtship rituals was just so aaaaaaaa (THEY"RE SO ADORBSABLEEE) Tango setting aside his disgust with his claws to take care of Zed even tho its uncomfortable for him, and then Zed recognizing that and having all the warm fuzzy fondness for his bf was so sweet. Doc's notes about the rituals were on point, with how he reassures Tango that they're normal, healthy things and saying he's always open to having a conversation about it. (tho, i doubt Tango's ever taken him up on that offer lmao)

The other fic that's been in my head is ur most recent one, Handshakes and Headaches. I highly doubt we'll get a cub reveal in this next chapter, but ig we'll see soon enough. I loved how Cub just knew instantly that Grian was a hybrid and was just going in spirals putting it together that he was cuteguy, then him coming to the wrong conclusion about whether Scar knew, too, was just perfect. Tho, if he did think Scar knew and was cool with it, I wonder what he'd do first? Tell Scar his own secret, guess Grian's secret in front of them? I feel like he would think the safe thing would be to confront Scar about Grian being Cuteguy, and then if/when Scar admits it and says he's cool with it, Cub would feel safe(r) revealing his own identity. Maybe not right away, but sometime. Also, that would mean everyone in Hot Cave knows about hybrids and undercity, so he wouldn't have to glamor while he works (tho, that would also require revealing to Zed... they don't seem super close, but it's kinda obvious that Zed's chill w/ the undercity people, considering he's dating Tango and Cub knows that).

Also! now that Hypno knows G and Scar are safe, I really wanna see him revealing to Scar and Scar being all supportive and stuff :)))) Hypno wasn't someone I knew I needed in this world, but I'd die for him now. (ALSO the casual mention that his scales are dry and flaky rather than smooth and taken care of??? Hello?????? Someone get him some proper self-care ASAP, maybe take him swimming at a private pool or something idk. I feel like the moment Scar knows, he's going to be on it with the cookies and love and support. so excited hehehe)

anyways, I'm probably forgetting something, but whatever. I'll be back with more art soon (maybe I draw Hypno, since I've never done that before and electric eel hybrid sounds cool. Actually, I've decided, I'm gonna do it now. remind me what that looks like pls? or I go reread, whichever happens faster lol)

Ok that's all, have a good day!

I LOVE THE RAMBLESSSSS

Petition to get Hypno a private pool 😆

I'm so glad you love the slightly unhealthy but also very loving Zedango situation we have going on!

I LOVED YOUR TT ZEDANGO FIC! I'M STILL WAITING FOR THE SEQUEL!!!! 😭 /j you don't have to write one if you don't wanna BUT KNOW THAT I LOVED IT!

Ren being a protective boyfriend is all I need sometimes! It's just good fun! Thank you so much for telling all about everything!!!

I would actually LOVE to see how you would design Hypno if you do feel like drawing him! That sounds amazing! Electric Eel hybrid time!!!! 💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #through the sky blue cracks #ttsbc #ttsbc au #traveling thieves au #hermitshipping

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luwritesomething · 2 years ago

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read the thing you wrote abt mickey altieri 🥺🥺 i love that man so much. if i could, i was wondering if i could request something abt him? maybe something where the read has insomnia and he helps them actually sleep <33 only if you want, of course 🫶

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.

Words: 1199

Warnings: mickey is a killer but reader doesn’t know that (however this is not what the fic is about). there are light mentions of anxiety, stress and pills (for headaches), i think there's swearing (bc it's me).

Summary: after a movie night with your boyfriend mickey, you don’t want to go to sleep.

Author's note: thank you so much for requesting, @altierirose!!! mickey will always have my heart, and he’s so fun to write for. i didn’t make this explicitly about insomnia, but reader does have trouble sleeping and that’s what this is about. no hate to dirty dancing, btw!!! (just a bit.) i'm giving you a follow bc there's not much people appreciating our boy... feel free to request whenever !!!! this is my attempt at not using "y/n" anymore.

Criticism is appreciated and request are open (except for the Wednesday fandom)! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! You can see the character i write for HERE.

Every Friday night was reserved to you and Mickey since you two had started dating, some months after the beginning of your first college year. It had been agreed by the two of you, because you had soon realized that college life was messy, difficult and crowded; and a little bit of bonding time reserved for your relationship sounded like a good idea. Slowly, it escalated from cute little dates in the campus’ cafeteria to coffee shops outside the enclosure, until you two finally retreated to one plan and one plan only — movie night.

Fairly chosen, one week he was the one to choose one of his movies in between his precious collection, worthy of a Film student; and the next one you would choose, sometimes with better or worse criteria, but always having fun. Popcorn, candy and a blanket pulling you close together, his hand either around your shoulders or wrapped around your waist, letting you lean into him. It was a great plan for a Friday night.

This week it was your turn, and you had purposely chosen a movie that would piss off his movie buff extraordinare’s taste; something like Dirty Dancing. Mickey had bitched around for quite a while, not letting you hear the somewhat awful dialogues, but amusing you anyway because even if he could be annoying, Mickey was still funny and charming, in his own way.

The movie ended not too late, to Mickey’s relief, and as soon as the credits rolled in your little TV he jumped out of the bed with the empty bowl of popcorn in his hands, while he roasted the movie like it had personally offended him.

“It just makes no sense.” He said, putting the bowl in the only table you and your roommate had in your shared dorm. Your friend had always been kind and comprehensive enough to allow you to have the dorm whenever Derek, Mickey’s roommate, didn’t want to leave his. Mickey turned to you, still in bed, with a wide grin. “And seriously, Baby? It’s just so unrealistic for someone to spend a whole summer being called Baby by everyone.”

“Mickey, it’s a movie.” You laughed quietly, your head cocking to the side.

Mickey pointed at you with his index finger. “That’s not an excuse, and you know that.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Whatever.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that sight, and you watched him do so. Mickey looked really handsome when he laughed, as his face filled with joy and beaming happiness — you liked the way he enjoyed himself around you. It was something sweet.

“I’m dead.” Mickey was able to say as soon as he stopped laughing, exhaustion washing over him after a hard week. His body felt sore, you could tell by the way he crawled to your side in bed. His body next to yours, even on top of the sheets and blanket, felt so familiar. A smile was shot your way. “Let’s go to sleep, uh?”

Something inside you crumbled suddenly as soon as you saw him getting inside the bed, without bothering to look if you were doing the same because he thought it was rather obvious. It produced you a feeling close to anxiety, thinking about sleeping while you slid by his side — this week had been hard on both of you, but what had kicked your ass the most wasn’t assignments and classes, like it had happened to him, but sleep.

A series of all-nighters the last week had thrown you off, and now your sleep schedule was messed up. You had laid in bed every night, eyes closed, waiting for Orpheus to sweep you out of the world and into sleeping, but it hadn’t happened — as much, an hour or two before your alarm went off you would fall slightly asleep, producing you low headaches that you had successfully avoided with a few pills.

“But it’s so early.” You said, and your voice went a little higher like it used to do whenever you lied, catching Mickey’s attention.

His eyes drifted to your alarm clock behind you, head tilted. “You’re not tired?”

“I am.” You sighed, and then you stuttered a bit, before confessing. “But… I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s– It’s silly.”

Mickey’s body language changed instantly. His back straightened, so he could sit up with it against the headboard, body turned to look at you and give you his full attention. His eyes scanned you slightly, making you look away in embarrassment — you were a grown adult, and not wanting to go to sleep without a good reason was childish, you knew.

“Is this about the murders going on?” Mickey asked quietly, like someone else apart from you could hear him talking about the matter that had been hunting everyone in your circle for the last couple of weeks. Two people had been murdered in the new, based on real events, slasher’s opening night. “Because if it’s that, I can promise you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, to prove your point, then just shrugged. Mickey watched you curiously, carefully. “I think I’m just too stressed. The exams, and all… College life isn’t as good as they paint it and, I don’t know, maybe I can’t take it.”

A beat of silence, then two, before Mickey’s brows furrowed together. “That’s bullshit.” It surprised you enough to not let you speak instantly, giving him time to speak first. “I mean, I understand you being stressed, it’s natural. But if you can’t take it, then no one can.”

“That’s not true.”

“But it is!” He insisted, seriousness written all over his face. You had only seen him this serious once or twice before, when he was passionately defending a horror movie from Randy’s criticism, and when he had asked you out for the first time. “I think you’re taking it all too seriously. You stress too much about every single test and—”

“But it is serious, Mickey.” You interrupted softly, wrapping your arms around your knees for comfort. “I can’t slow down.”

“It shouldn’t take your sleep away.” He retorted. His hand reached out for you, comfortably squeezing once. “You’re doing great. I mean that. But you need to chill.”

Nodding slightly, your gaze fell down and away from him, processing his words. The silence settled between you, but Mickey needed to know what you were thinking — not anymore to have the upperhand, but because he was worried, and if there was something pure in him, that was his love for you.

His hand left yours to barely graze your chin, lifting your head and gaze up. “Is that all of it?” Mickey asked softly. His eyes shone. “Nothing more on your mind?”

“That’s all.” You muttered, nodding slightly. He gave you a smile.

“Wanna go to sleep now?”

Once again you nodded, and you two slid inside the bed. He switched off the lights and his arm surrounding your waist and pulling you closer didn’t startle you. Mickey didn’t fall asleep until you did, surrendering yourself to the calm circles Mickey rubbed onto your back and his even breathing close to you.

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri fic #mickey altieri fanfiction #mickey altieri x reader #timothy olyphant #scream franchise #scream #scream 2 #lu writes #lu writing #my writing #writing #fanfic #cigarettes after sex #inclusive reader

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cursed-man-prayers · 2 years ago

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High Infidelity is about Miss Americana.

Notes before we begin: First, I can’t post screenshots from the doc bc Netflix, but I have pulled direct quotes and rewatched scenes over and over as I wrote this analysis. The more I watched, the more this theory made sense.

Second, while I obviously don’t know what Taylor Swift’s relationship with her dad is like, the clips in Miss American plus the song tolerate it are enough to convince me that he’s not/wouldn’t be accepting of Taylor being queer. There’s a reason she’s a mama’s girl. This is a Scott Swift hate account.

Let’s begin

Verse One

Lock broken,

A common interpretation of this lyric is the invasion of privacy that is someone reading your diary/journal. Having a locked diary is also something most common with young girls (only girls get privacy, sorry lads), and in Miss Americana, the first diary that Taylor shows in the first scene while she says the first words of the film is a diary that has a lock, and there’s also a closeup of another diary with a lock, as well as the words “bitch session.” There’s also the very common trope/reality of parents reading your diary. Speaking from personal experience, this can genuinely be traumatic, especially taking into consideration the next two words.

Slur Spoken

Seeing as Taylor is a white woman, I genuinely don’t know how else this can be interpreted besides a homophobic slur being spoken. $!u and b*!tch are derogatory, but that’s not the same thing as being a slur. Also, I’m not going to justify the “she’s talking about slurring words while drunk!!” interpretation bc that makes less sense than thinking the slur is “whore.” (I think the diary I mentioned that says “bitch session” is further proof that Taylor doesn’t consider ‘bitch’ to be a slur, even though she has called out the misogynistic way men use it in music.)

Wound open, game token

The person who is breaking this lock and speaking this slur and opening this wound is using Taylor’s pain as a means to get a prize. “You play stupid games you win stupid prizes” (MAATHBP), “You knew you won, so what’s the point of keeping score?” (hoax).

I didn't know you were keeping count

In the Man music video, during the tennis match, Scott Swift is playing the scorekeeper. This line is repeated multiple times in the song. The context of the repetition does change and develop throughout the song.

Rain soaking, blind hoping

I think this refers to the Lover era and how Taylor was not able to come out (specifically that video where she’s talking about ME! and looks sad as shit). I think it’s also a reference to Midnight Rain, rain being a metaphor for unexpected, unseen change, and also the isolation of staying hidden.

You said I was freeloading / I didn't know you were keeping count

As someone with a dad, I can confirm that this is very dad-coded. Like, I can’t think of a context in Taylor’s life where a romantic partner would’ve said this to her, especially considering how idk, rich and successful she’s been since she was a teenager? While I don’t think her dad would ever be justified in saying this to her either, it could be a reference to him throwing his role in her career in her face, the way we see in Miss Americana.

Chorus

This is where things come together in terms of being about Miss Americana.

High infidelity / Put on your records and regret me / I bent the truth too far tonight / I was dancing around, dancing around it

In order to produce a consumable product (the Lover journals) around her and her art, she had to dance around the full truth. The entries were meticulously chosen and most likely edited. In Miss Americana, the segment where she “comes out” as a democrat feels like it might’ve been a different kind of coming out story, especially when you factor in the creation of You Need To Calm Down. It comes across as extremely personal, and while there are multiple factors leading to the experience being emotionally charged for Taylor, I do think that her own queerness is one of those factors. The entire documentary feels like she’s dancing around a bent truth.

Put on your headphones and burn my city

Putting on headphones is shorthand for ignoring someone. “Burn my city” in the context of how Taylor equates her (former) lover with *a certain city* feels like an indication that the subject of the song did something to sabotage and burn down the relationship. I think this is a reference to how her career and the people controlling it (such as her father, but others as well) ruined the love she’s been singing about since reputation.

Your picket fence is sharp as knives

This also goes back to Midnight Rain (“my town was a wasteland, full of cages, full of fences”)

I was dancing around, dancing around it

Taylor has used dancing as a literary device throughout her discography. I believe it’s typically a metaphor for queerness.

Post Chorus

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

This goes back to the diaries from Miss Americana. This is Taylor being confronted about a journal entry from an April 29th where she wrote something gay. When *her dad* saw it, it led to a slur being spoken.

Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

This refers to the segment in Miss Americana that is allegedly all about Joe. Call It What You Want plays over a montage of videos filmed by an unseen lover. The only clip actually featuring Joe in the entire film is a single moment where Taylor and Joe look vaguely excited to see each other after one of the Rep shows. The way she wrote and sung this line makes it seem like charting constellations in some dude’s eyes is the last thing she wants to do.

Verse Two

Storm coming, good husband / Bad omen / Dragged my feet right down the aisle

This very much sounds like Taylor being forced to be romantically linked in a traditional, heterosexual way. The storm coming and bad omen are what led to her being pushed into this, likely the media storm that happened in 2016. It ties together the lines about pickets fences and how the rain referenced in the first verse is connected to Midnight Rain, because, as we learned with the very first track on Midnights, Taylor is not interested in 1950’s shit.

At the house lonely,

“To a house not a home all alone ‘cause nobody’s there,” Dear Reader

good money,

“the jokes weren’t funny, I took the money” from YOYOK is just one example of how the money comes at the cost of herself and who she is and her worth as a human being…

I'd pay if you'd just know me / Seemed like the right thing at the time

…but now she’s regretting paying that price, wishing that she could be truly known. It seemed like the right thing, but she’s realizing that it wasn’t. Alternatively, she regrets coming out to her and the price she now has to pay of knowing his love was conditional. She paid the price for being known. Also, during the clips that play during the segment allegedly about Joe, Taylor is singing Call It What You Want, specifically the lyric “At least I did one thing right” which is… devastating in this context. She also says:

But I wasn’t happy in the way that I was trained to be happy…It was happiness without anyone else’s input. It was just, we were happy.

Anyway she doesn’t seem happy anymore.

Pre Chorus

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love / The slowest way is never loving them enough

This creates a strong connection to tolerate it. I feel like this lyric is the thesis of that song. Again, this is a very dad-coded lyric. It’s the slow realization that a parent’s love can be conditional. It’s like when a queer kid comes out and a parent says “I still love you, but…” There’s other contexts where that phrase could exist, but it’s an extremely common queer experience.

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th? / Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

I think this could refer to the narrative of Joe Alwyn being William Bowery (which is suspect at best and criminal at worst). She has to say that Joe helped her write devastating breakup songs like exile and champagne problems to keep up the narrative that they are in a VERY HAPPY relationship.

The next new lyric is in the third chorus and let’s just say I have thoughts about it.

Put on your records and regret meeting me

THIS LYRIC HAS BEEN DRIVING ME MAD FOR THREE MONTHS. In the other choruses she says “regret me,” but she changes it here to be “regret meeting me” in the last chorus. “Regret me” implies regretting the existence of Taylor Swift. It’s the people credited with kick-starting her career (such as her father!!!) putting on your records, a double-entendre for her albums + the awards and accolades she has earned for those albums. But! In this chorus! The lyric is! Regret meeting me! The promo for Midnights focused heavily on “meet me at midnight,” the concept that she would be showing who she really is with the album, so much so that people thought she might be coming out with this album. While I think this lyric is a reference to that narrative and the fear that her fans won’t get her or won’t like her after listening to Midnights, I also think it is about how her dad regrets learning who she really is, and how he therefore IGNORES IT by listening to the albums she wrote about me. This is the only lyric in the chorus that changes, and it’s seemingly such a small change, a single word added to the line, but that’s what makes it so massive. Because why would she change this lyric if not to completely change the meaning of the line? It’s drawing a distinction between regretting someone’s existence and regretting knowing the truth about them.

Oh, there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

And it's never enough, it's never enough

I think the phrasing here implies that Taylor feels like she can never be good enough to earn the love she needs and deserves. This ties it, again, to the intro of Miss Americana where she’s going through her diaries and talks about how her main goal in life was to be a good girl.

Outro

The entire first chorus is repeated, and we have a new perspective.

You said I was freeloading

When it comes to this line specifically, I think it refers to the conversation about Taylor’s desire to speak publicly about politics, in which her dad throws in her face how he hired armored cars, essentially saying that she owes him something. It’s just phrased in an odd way and it makes everyone uncomfy.

I didn't know you were keeping count / But oh, you were keeping count

The repetition of the first chorus at the end of the song implies that this song is cyclical. It’s a loop that she’s trapped in. (If you put this song on repeat and turn up the crossfade, you can listen on a seamless loop). Tolerate It does the same thing. Repetition also draws attention to the lyrics while recontextualizing them. The last lyric (“but oh, you were keeping count”) is this acknowledgment that her relationship with this person was/is transactional.

What about the name of the song?

Okay, I’m convinced the only reason anyone would ever think this is a song about cheating is because of the title. Obviously, the primary definition of the word infidelity is cheating on a romantic or sexual partner. Nothing else in the song indicated cheating. SO. OBVIOUSLY. I GOOGLED. THE DEFINITION. TO SEE. WHAT. AN ALTERNATIVE. MIGHT. BE

unbelief in a particular religion, especially Christianity.

Jesus Fucking CHrist. Taylor Swift has called herself a Christian, and she has also written songs with overt religious themes, typically borrowing from Christianity specifically (Don’t Blame Me; False God; Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve; Soon You’ll Get Better). While I know that you can be queer and Christian, it is not unreasonable to conclude that coming out as queer to a conservative Christian (parent) would be considered a lack of belief in Christianity. Infidelity literally means “unfaithful.” To many people, Christianity and queerness are unreconcilable, to the point that they believe accepting yourself as queer can lead to you going to hell. While they won’t say this outloud, many Christians put “homosexuality” into a higher category of sin, meaning that being queer is HIGHLY UNCHRISTIAN, HIGHLY UNFAITHFUL, HIGH INFIDELITY.

One last thing. Miss Americana was released at midnight PST. Which is 3am EST. High Infidelity is a 3am track. So, yeah.

tl;dr

High Infidelity is about being considered unfaithful for being who you are. It’s about dying slowly because you are not loved (enough) for who you are. It’s about how the lies you’ve been forced to tell have forced you to be unfaithful to yourself. It’s about Miss Americana.

#gaylor #gaylor swift #taylor swift lyric analysis #high infidelity #midnights 3am edition #midnights #miss americana

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plague-of-insomnia · 1 year ago

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I got this comment on Synch a few days ago and I am STILL livid about it so I decided I would post about it here after all.

Listen. I get not everyone understands what chronic illness is like. It’s hard if you don’t have one or know someone close to you who does.

But Synch literally shows what life can be like for someone like me. It shows how sick you can be. How much you may have to give up, even things you love, like creating, because it’s physically or mentally impossible for you to do as a result of your disease.

I literally say in the A/N how I cannot make promises on update frequency bc of my health.

It has only been a month since my last update, when I haven’t been able to update most of my other works in a year or more.

And you come onto my fic and say this shit? “Hope it’s not dropped”???

Fuck you.

You have no idea how much of a slap in the face it is to get a comment like this on THIS story of all fics. The story that I wrote to cope with my frustration about my illness, which I explain in the notes so it’s not as if I didn’t say it clearly from the get-go.

The story I wrote partly because I hadn’t been able to write or create in months.

You comment on a chapter where you can clearly see I have not responded to any of the comments there, whereas I have on all the other previous ones on earlier chapters.

Maybe put two and two fucking together??

If I had gotten a “hope it’s not dropped” comment on any other fic I would not have been mad. Bc it’s been a long time, it’s a fair question to ask, not to mention none of those are about living with a chronic illness.

I cannot express how angry this comment makes me.

So much it ALMOST makes me wanna pull the entire fucking fic. Because if this is how people are gonna act when I take a risk and bare a little of my own experiences as hard as they’ve been, then I don’t think they deserve to read my shit.

I’m still tempted to block this person from my AO3 account completely.

Maybe that seems overly harsh, but I want to explain again what a slap in the fucking face something like this is.

It is akin to someone with cancer going to an event without a wig, finally feeling some confidence coming back despite all they’ve had to endure, perhaps having almost died, and people asking “why hasn’t your hair come back yet?”

Some people really need to learn to be fucking appreciative and not treat creators like some slot machine they pull a lever to get a treat.

Like if you really had read the story and paid attention you would understand what I’m dealing with and why I might not be able to update when you want me to.

You can show support for a fic that hasn’t been updated without being a jerk about it. Like “i still love this story and am excited for the next update!” Shows the author you’re excited even if it’s been a while without being an entitled asshole.

Even if someone doesn’t have an illness, this is still something someone is doing in their free time and sharing with you out of their good will. You’re not owed shit.

So yeah. I sat on this but since I’m still absolutely livid days later I wanted to vent here about it. I’m really sick of shitty, insensitive comments on my posts and fics this week.

#mini rant #don’t do shit like this

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empresstheresa-guide · 3 months ago

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Theresa and Steve, a love story for the ages.. part 2

Part 2: A little ditty about Jack and Theresa. This will be short.

In chapter 3, Theresa goes to Boston College. Before she even has time to settle down, guys are already staring at her in the cafeteria.

”There was a group of kids at a nearby table looking at me. A girl learns to read expressions. ”

Every time Norman describes how girls/women think, I lose a brain cell.

”One boy was intently looking at me. I called him Mr. Intense. He was very handsome, with short hair as black as my own, and he was around six feet which was a good match for my five feet four inches. I liked taller guys and apparently he liked smaller girls. He wasn’t gawking at a pretty girl, or lusting for her body. He looked interested. And that’s ok. A girl gets used to being looked at.”

This is Steve. She’s basically in love with him already. What’s the difference between lusting for her body and being ”interested”?

My experience is that most women don’t enjoy being stared at, but men think we do. Norman reminds me of those insufferable guys who think women’s main task on Earth is to attract men. He probably is one of those guys.

In Theresa’s case, of course, she’s already being watched by 400 government agents, so she should be used to it. But I don’t think Norman considered that here. She doesn’t even question whether Steve is a watcher, and that’s why he’s so intently staring at her. This chapter has zero HAL and discusses Theresa like she was an ordinary college student. There’s just one brief interlude - which I will skip here - about her watchers being caught by campus cops.

One of Norman’s issues as a writer is that he doesn’t even try to fit different parts of the book together. This chapter is about Jack and Steve, so HAL is not relevant here. You’d think if Theresa gives off heat and has super strength, that would be mentioned at least in passing. The boys would notice she gives off heat, right? Or she could slip up and use her powers by mistake. That would have made the book much more interesting. Theresa’s career as a baseball player is also completely dropped, she has no interest in joining college level teams, and no one is pressuring her to do so.

” But it wasn’t Mr. Intense who made the first move. A boy next to him, Mr. Fastmove, brought his food tray over to my table.”

Mr. Intense is organic, if unoriginal, but Mr. Fastmove… There is a moving company called Fastmove, but apart from that, I didn’t find much on google. Maybe Norman coined this phrase.

”Hi,” said Mr. Fastmove. “Can I sit here?”

“Sure,” I said with a smile. I had been advised to be friendly from day one or be labeled a tease for the rest of our four years.”

Oh no Norman. No no no. No.

”I’m Jack Koster,” said Mr. Fastmove. “Aren’t you Theresa Sullivan, the baseball player?”

I had been on television a lot.”

Gotta work in those brags at every opportunity. Once you mention his real name, you can drop the nickname, but I think Norman is just proud of what he did here. Also note there is NO description whatsoever of Jack’s looks or manner, just that he came to her table. Norman isn’t even trying.

“I am,” I said, and we were off and running. I noticed that Mr. Intense looked disappointed. It made me think of someone whose neighbor won the lottery.”

Being with Theresa is like winning the lottery. Our humble girl.

I genuinely don’t understand why she hooks up with Jack at all. All she had to do was say ”nice to meet you” and walk away. She shouldn’t feel obligated to date the boy who happens to talk to her first.

Next, Theresa looks up both boys on BC’s computer system where, in 2017, ”BC provided free disk space and all the students were urged to set up a webpage about themselves before they got to school.” Norman probably wrote this part in 2001 and forgot to change it.

This is all she says about Jack:

” Jack was a boy from close to New York City but not in it. His father was owner of a specialty food store. Jack was going to be a history major, a guarantee of a job in his father‘s store.”

Is Norman negging history majors? This reminds me of a skit show that advertised college degrees, including a 13-year degree for really dumb students who are just killing time before they get a job in their father’s business. Maybe Norman thinks history is equally pointless. (With the exception of Joan of Arc.)

But enough about Jack, who cares about the boy she’s actually going to date. Let’s talk about Steve.

” Mr. Intense was Steve Hartley. His father was a physicist for Intel and Steve was majoring in physics too. That was interesting. He mentioned he was Catholic. Also interesting. ”

Wow, a Catholic boy in a Catholic college? How interesting.

”Steve’s page showed the kid of a research physicist, precise, succinct, and somewhat lacking in spontaneity. Something like myself, actually. It wasn’t a bad thing, except in reality TV shows where they have to keep the gab going all the time.”

Just date him already. You can’t fully know someone’s personality just based on whatever ”webpage” they set up, either. He’s still a complete stranger. The mention of reality shows really ruins this paragraph, too. If people in reality shows just sat silently, it wouldn’t be very good TV. Norman has to work in every single pet peeve of his. This is a typical problem for people writing their first story.

” Jack knew I was not the kind of girl who had to put up with foul language or crude jokes, and he carefully avoided them. He was one smooth operator.”

*headdesk* Being a ”smooth operator” isn’t necessarily a good thing, and is in fact associated with manipulating others. I don’t even know what Norman means here.

” One Sunday Steve saw me at Mass. He looked embarrassed, like somebody who had missed his chance, not somebody who did something bad. Well, four years is a long time and the campus had a lot of women. ”

Why are you even looking at him when you’re dating someone else?

”Steve seemed nice in person. He always gave me a little smile like he was glad to see me. He and Jack were casual friends and apparently didn’t talk about me. But I’d seen the looks. Steve was genuinely interested. ”

Yes, you already made this point. She’s going on about Steve and his interest, while dating Jack. Wouldn’t that be a sin, dating a boy you don’t care about and spending all your time admiring another boy? It doesn’t seem like something a good Catholic girl would do.

”There was nothing wrong with dating Jack for a while. It was already clear that we were not compatible enough for a lifetime of commitment. He was a little careless about schoolwork and had no passion for his major. I was fanatical about mine. But Jack was fun to be around for the time being.”

She’s fanatical about her major, which she doesn’t even name here. Spoiler alert: it’s math, which she picked because it was meant to help with HAL? I’m not sure how that would have worked. Later on, she says that all she ever wanted was to be a high school math teacher, something she never mentions before that moment.

After Jack comes to her table, there is not a single scene where Theresa and Jack talk to each other alone, or go on a date. Not a single one. Jack is never fleshed out. What does he look like? Is Theresa attracted to him at all? What’s his personality like? If he has many stories to tell, you could give an example and have him tell a compelling story. That would have been interesting.

One of the more famous triangle dramas was on ”The Office”. Roy was initially established as a jerk, but he was kind to Pam at least sometimes, and he truly tried to better himself. We knew she would end up with Jim, but Roy was not a complete monster, and he seemed human. Jack has no personality, no description, nothing. I believe KrimsonRogue said that the characters are somehow less than two-dimensional, and Jack definitely fits that description. He’s like a cardboard cutout of a boy.

”Come October it was Homecoming week, always a big weekend on any college campus. There were many special activities going on and we had to choose a list.”

Remember this later when she claims BC has no entertainment or parties at all.

”Friday nights, the kids would ‘hang‘ around, meaning drift up and down the dormitory hall talking and joking with anybody there. ”

How do you do, fellow kids?

”Jack’s door was open and I walked in. There were six boys visiting Jack including Steve Hartley, and one girl.”

I guess it’s relevant for later that Steve is there, but it still sounds like she only has eyes for him.

As Theresa walks into the room, an awkward silence falls.

”Hi, Theresa” said Jack with not a lot of enthusiasm. “This is Ginny.”

“Hi” I said. There was not much else to say until I found out something.

“Ginny dropped in by surprise” Jack said.

”Yeah! I could see that! I couldn’t remember seeing her around campus, or at least not in our complex. She might be somebody from outside.”

This would be a lot more powerful if Theresa actually gave a damn about Jack.

Also names. Ginny is short for Virginia. There is another character called Virginia later in the book, just like there’s another character called Jack. I doubt Norman has read ”Harry Potter”; he probably knew young girls called Virginia when he was growing up. What’s wrong with age appropriate names for 2017? Emily, Sophia, Madison?

”The embarrassing silence continued. Ginny looked very uncomfortable. She had known no more about me than the other way around. Ginny’s position near Jack made it clear she considered herself his girlfriend.”

Jack has to be discarded so Theresa can be with Steve. For some reason, Theresa can’t just tell him they’re incompatible and she’s not interested in pursuing the relationship in the long term. He has to cheat on her, because this gives Theresa the moral high ground to dump Jack and move straight onto Steve.

Norman probably thinks this is a great twist and the readers will be aghast at Jack’s behavior, but it just comes off as flat. He’s shitty, but there’s no stakes, because they hardly have a relationship at all.

Jack promises to come up to Theresa’s room to talk.

”I went back upstairs. This was the most humiliating experience I ever had. All those boys were watching.”

This at least is a normal human reaction to the events, I’ll give Norman that. But Theresa isn’t truly sad, she’s just embarrassed. It’s not her heart, but her ego that is wounded.

And this is where the different editions begin. Buckle up for a wild ride through Norman’s weird imagination in part 3: roads diverged in the Kindle, and that made all the difference.

#empress theresa #norman boutin #steve

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 2 years ago

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Hey there! I just wanted to tell you how much i enjoy the jealous series. I like how you explore the characters‘ emotions, it feels realistic and somewhat comforting to me 🤍 i can‘t even pick a favourite rn, i found them all great. If you ever decided to write some more about those characters or lore, i would love to read it! Thank you for sharing your work 🫶

Oh thank you so much for saying that!! I love exploring emotions, especially messy ones like jealousy, you know, the ones that are natural but that you don't really know what to do with and might even be ashamed of — they're the ones that I find the most fun to dive in. I'm definitely considering writing more for some of these couples it's an issue actually, I have so much that I want to write ;-; and I can tag you in it if you'd like to as well!

Also I wanted to tell you how much your comments on the parts of the series have meant, I've been meaning to shoot you a message to reply to them because I find the "comment" function on Tumblr not very practical to reply to people. So since you're in my inbox, I hope it's okay with you if I reply to them here! This series has gotten a fair number of notes but not that many actual interactions (I mean like, people telling me what they think about stuff), and it means so much to me that you took the time to leave in depth comments ❤️

so yeah I hope that it's okay with you that I'm replying to them here under the cut

So I do not have a degree in psychology, but writing complex characters is definitely my favorite thing to do and probably what I'd consider to be my strength, quite flattered that you thought that though 😁 I did really enjoy writing their communication in this and I'm definitely considering writing more for these two!

Okay, so, here there is something that's an issue because I'm not always sure how to tag it lol. Basically, I often hesitate to use the tag "unreliable narrator" because people associate it with a certain type of narrators (often liars/narrators who hallucinate or stuff like that). All it would mean here is that this is written from the OC's point of view and she... doesn't always realize what's going on.

So, here, Jisung's aware of the fact that there are issues with the ex, but both OC and the ex have been very careful not to talk to him about it/to hide it in front of him so he doesn't know exactly what's going on. When there's the scene with his ex, his closeness with the OC is intended to provide comfort to her but also to himself (the break-up was messier than OC knows), so he's not trying to make the ex jealous! And actually, the reason why he takes the bottle is because he doesn't want OC to kiss someone else lol.

As for why it looks like he can't get his shit together, the issue is that, well, OC mentions that she's trying hard not to look desperate/too into him and she's not taking into account the fact that she's doing a little too good of a job. So Jisung's just not sure of whether or not she has feelings for him (it's clear that she's attracted to him but anything else? yeah that's anyone's guess, literally bc some of Jisung's friends think he's heading towards heartbreak with her at this point)

And yes, they would start dating not too long after this scene! That's actually what I'd written at first but it didn't have enough of a "jealousy" feel and had to be mostly rewritten ;-;

Yeahhh, things are messy in that one, but I can say that Felix has his reasons, or at least his justifications. And yes, they've kissed before, which was when the OC basically said that she couldn't do more because she knew it would end up in heartbreak for her. I can't get into the past too much in case I end up writing it, but I can say that if I wrote it, this would probably be either the summary or the intro:

"The first time you see Lee Felix, he's sitting next to Bang Chan — yes, the Bang Chan, captain of the swimming team who's taken the school to the nationals twice now —, dyed blonde hair looking like a halo, nose scrunched up as he laughs with that surprisingly deep laugh of his. You don't think he even registers your existence then; you're just dropping by to say hi to Jisung anyway, you're not taking it personally.

The last time you see Lee Felix, two people are having to physically drag him from Bang Chan, who's sitting on the floor, nose bleeding, and there are tears of angers in his eyes. He's expelled a few days later, drops off the face of the Earth, and everyone carefully avoids the subject, especially around Chan.

And then, well, you see him again, but years have passed, and he's not really the Felix you used to know anymore.”

The Han and Seungmin roommate thing was 100% an intentional reference to that lol, I was hoping people would clock it 😁 Yeah this was very sweet to write, the MC is different from other ones I write usually so it was a fun exercice too!

Thank you so much for all your comments, I genuinely cannot express how much they made my day every time I got them, and I hope you'll enjoy what's left of the series 💕

#asks #theangelsangmetosleep #jealousy jealousy

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lastoneout · 10 months ago

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The best way I've heard it framed is that you aren't reviewing a professional book or movie, you're being served cookies at a potluck.

With reviews of professional media, unless you're a big famous critic or work for a well known publication, you aren't actually talking directly to the author. Your review is more for the people who will see it and use it to decide if they want to engage with this piece of media, and in that context it makes sense to point out the issues you had with it along side the positives.

But with fanfic comments you are speaking directly to the author. Comments aren't reviews. Potential readers don't flip through the comments before deciding to read something, so the only person your critique is aimed at is the author, and so going "Oh I liked this but but this part was too long and you forgot xyz thing from cannon so your characterization is a bit off" is kinda like if you were having a potluck and your friend brought cookies they worked really hard on and you ate one and then to their face said "they were tasty but a little burnt and you didn't use enough chocolate chips". What purpose does that serve other than to make your friend feel bad for not making better cookies? Do you think that's really gonna encourage them to keep baking? Your friend made something for you for free, what's the point in telling them everything that's wrong with what they created. Besides, ofc the cookies aren't perfect, they're probably an amature and they aren't trying to impress professional bakers/critics or pass a class. They're doing something for fun and then sharing what they made with people they care about for free.

Also, on my expirience a lot of people who leave constructive criticism are really bad at it. I've had people "um, actually" me for not knowing every single obscure detail of a character's entire life/backstory even though I stated in the author's notes I hadn't finished said piece of media yet. I've had people "correct" my intentional deviations from canon bcs they couldn't tell the difference between a deliberate choice and a mistake. People have been incredibly mean while pointing out spelling errors or things they don't like, or acted entitled and told me I had to change things bcs they didn't like the direction I was going with the story. I've had people legit leave "concrit" that boiled down to "I wish you'd write about a different ship". Hell I had someone offer to beta read my next fic after reading a previous one and when I agreed they basically re-wrote the entire thing bcs they just didn't like that I write flowery prose, why should I take feedback from someone who can't even respect my writing style??

Tbh it just makes me feel like anonymous concrit from strangers is kinda useless? Giving good concrit is a skill that a LOT of people just don't have(and like "this part was too long" and "this part was confusing" aren't super useful crit anyway). Unless you're 100% sure you can meet the story where it is and accept that the author may have made certain choices deliberately even if you don't like those choices, it just reads like you're complaining. And even worse, you're not complaining about a professionally made movie or book, you're complaining about free food right to the face of the person who spent hours making it for you. It's just not helpful.

So yeah imo it's best to follow the "if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all" rule when commenting on fics. And if that means you just don't comment bcs you simply cannot stop yourself from pointing out the flaws in a story then not commenting is the correct choice. But I do like the above advice, just skip over mentioning the parts you don't like, stick to what you did enjoy and dw about the rest. This is someone's hobby, not their job, it's okay if what they make isn't perfect.

Is it just me, or are there less comments being written on fics nowadays? I get to a fic on AO3 that was posted weeks ago, and it has like 30 kudos but no comments yet. It happens more and more now. Why is that?

I don't like it.

#long post

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sixtypackofcrayola · 2 years ago

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May i please request Redson x She/Her Fiancé reader?

Despite being an arranged marriage its still love at first sight.

Thought abt this one all day and had fun w/ it woo!!

✰ Red Son x Fem!Fiancé Reader ✰

Fandom; LEGO Monkie Kid Character List; Red Son, DBK, PIF, Reader's Family (Unnamed) Genre(s); Arranged Marriage Trope Pronouns; She/Her (Reader), They/He (Red Son) TW/CW; None, I believe! A/N; quick note; UNEDITED N NOT PROOFREAD,, n i probably wont go back to fix it</3 i wrote notes 4 this while i was stuck somewhere for a bit and just kinda copied them all down here</3 had a lotta fun w/ this tho ive never liked this trope b4 buuuut,,,,,, allllso read the a/n at the end thanks yous

-Red Son wasn't too happy about this whole "arranged marriage" ordeal at first -The thought of already being set to marry someone random that he barely knew at all,, didn't appeal to him. He didn't even get a choice! They didn't know,,, much about love, but they were sure it wasn't forced -But, it appeases their parents... a great deal, in fact. Princess Iron Fan seems to like the idea of him with.... who was he marrying again?? -It wasn't like he had a choice. Arguing with his parents was usually futile. The possibility of heavily disliking who he was supposed to spend his life with ate away at him for the rest of the day -So, his parents and your parents were gonna have a dinner party,, thing to talk and formally introduce their children to each other. -Apparently his bride-to-be was the daughter of two other powerful demons. They were able to read up a bit on your parents in legends and whatnot, wanting a bit of a background check, but there was no mention of a child. So great, they still knew jack shit abt you. -The day of the dinner party, Red had a few bull clones running around to decorate as his parents wanted, and he was going to be preparing the food bc he's likely the best cook in the house -They were told to hold off a little on the spices when they cook, and that made them slightly more upset -Red dressed a bit differently as well,, not far off from his usual aesthetic but somethin a bit more formal at the request of his mother -You know he changed it up a bit though -Red Son honestly expected the worst, even if he didn’t express that with his parents. They didn’t think they were gonna like you much,,, -Just like Red, you also weren’t too happy about this -When your father told you that you were set to marry someone not of your choosing, you got a bit upset with him -Who you married should be your choice, right? You wanted to marry for love, not simply for the good of the family. -Your elder sister had an arranged marriage as well. She didn’t seem completely unhappy, really, but she also wasn’t having the time of her life. However, your parents keep saying the results of these things are good for both families. -They weren’t giving you a choice, either. -The son of the Demon Bull King... wait hold on -THE Demon Bull King?? -Ohu boy -If you weren’t concerned before, you were now. If DBK’s son was anything like his father,,,, -You were mad at them for a while, understandably. How dare they take this right from you? AND THE LITERAL DEMON BULL KING’S SON.. -You and your family were demons too, and rather powerful ones at that. Your ancestors had caused boundless storms that raged and wreaked havoc for millennia at one point. The sparks of lightning ran through your veins, but that immense power had been shattered,, now your family was powerful, but not as much as they could be. Though even with that, DBK? How’d that happen?? -The next few days left you feeling a bit down. You didn’t wanna be stuck in an unhappy marriage like your sister! Just from that you expected the worst. You really weren’t going to like this, were you? -But hey, keep your chin up. There’s a possibility you’ll end up better than your sister, right? -A while later, your parents tell you that you’re going to a dinner party,,, thing at the house of the Demon Bull family to formally introduce the fiancés or whatever -They had a personal tailor who made a dress for you! It was elegant but simple, easy to walk in and comfortable. You were going to pick something yourself, but you had to admit, it was pretty... -And the day of the event, your stomach was filled with uncomfortable butterflies. But you told yourself you’d be nice and hope for the best.. -And then you and your family show up,, -And ohu boy. -She’s- pretty- -Ayo wait. -You swear you see the red boy’s high ponytail spark flames for a second, but your parents didn’t seem to notice -You have a similar reaction. Just “oh wait he’s actually- wait-” -You honestly weren’t expecting him to look like this,, oh my -Red Son told himself it was simply nerves when his heart may or may not have skipped a beat. Even though he isn’t the type to get nervous, but,, it was easier than saying- uh, nevermind. -Your father introduces you, and you bow as you were told to before you arrived. -”Lovely to meet you,” You say with a kind smile -”Pleasure meeting you as well,” they respond -Ohu his voice,, -Don’t come at me I love Red’s voice bro -When you both look back at eachother, you see them blush, even if only a little. You feel your own face warm a bit -Princess Iron Fan says his name is Red Son. Odd name, but it wasn’t bad -After a bit more talking, PIF tells Red Son to show you around the main floor, and then meet in the dining room -He might’ve been lost in thought, as he looked slightly surprised when his name was mentioned again -”..Yes, mother. Come now, this way.” -His hands were folded behind his back as he led you down one of the halls. The hallways were long and a little echoey. You could slightly hear the sound of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. -You look back at Red Son out of curiosity, and his brow is furrowed slightly, like he’s upset or just in thought. -You decide to perhaps strike a bit of conversation,, he interested you. Maybe he was feeling strange about this whole thing.. you were too. It was weird to be almost married to someone you’ve never really met. Could they relate to you? -”This is weird, isn’t it..?” You say in a low whisper, feeling the need to speak quietly as you lean closer to them so they’ll hear you -You see their ears flutter red son has bull ears headcanon lets gooo -”What, the long hallways or the fact that we’re fiancés?” -You let out a barely audible laugh, “The marriage, of course. But yes, it does look easy to get lost in this house.” -”Oh, I used to. And think about it; this is only the first floor! I really don’t see the appeal in taking a whole five minutes to get to a different room.” -You smile at him, “Sounds like a pain.” -”Doesn’t it?” -They only smile back for a moment, before averting their eyes with a flick of the ears -”Ahem, anywho, this way! The treasury is right down here.” ( To Be Continued ~ ✰ ) A/N; OKAY I LOVE THIS RN BUT IM SO TIRED BUT I WANNA PUT THIS OUT SO IF Y’ALL MAYB LIKE THIS N WANT THE OTHER PART I WILL GLADLY WRITE THE REST BC THIS I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS OBVIOUSLY N IDEA WAS FUN OKAY GN!!

#lmk #lego monkie kid #red son #lmk red son #red son x reader #lmk x reader #haha cliffhanger #i like red son a normal amount :smile:#monkie kid x reader

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 3 years ago

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Yggdrasil

Summary: How can you tell your father what happened to you when he’d done it to so many others.

Pairing: father!King Harald x daughter!reader; platonic!Ivar x reader; Ubbe x reader

Tags: @alicedopey

Notes: big tw! This fic discusses the aftermath of rape and s/a, abortion, and suicide attempts, do not read if this will upset you!

idk, I’ve been in a horrible mental state lately (bc stuff) and I wrote this to cope.This is not about anyone mentioned in the pairings being involved in the rape! Just wanted to clear that up...

It eats away at you. You’re glad your father isn’t here to see you, because then, he’d know something was wrong. Halfdan is too busy to notice that something is wrong as of yet.

You can’t help but blame yourself. You could fight, and yet, they’d overpowered you in your own town.

Furs surround you as you lie in bed, trying not to think about what happened, but your body is still in pain. Bruises and cuts litter your back and arms as you stare at the ceiling. You can’t leave your room because the streets of Tamdrup will only remind you what happened.

The room is a safe haven, but you wonder how long you can stay in here. It’s already been two days.

Thralls bring you food. Only one servant, an old woman you’d known since childhood called Thordís knows what happened. The others don’t dare to ask.

When there’s a knock at the door, you turn your back to it, covering yourself with even more furs. You know that knock.

Halfdan.

He comes in regardless of your silence.

“Why are you in your room all the time?” he asks.

“Go away.” You tell him. You know what your father and uncle do on raids. They know you’ve always disapproved. Now, the knowledge of what they do makes you sick.

He stays. Finally, you throw a candleholder at him, and he leaves you alone.

That night, your dreams suffocate you and you wake up with a strangled scream ripping from your throat. Halfdan bursts through the door, axe in hand.

“It was just a nightmare.” You tell him, and he’s ready to turn around when you stop him. You aren’t sure why.

“Will you stay?” you ask. Halfdan looks confused, but obliges, settling down at the side of your bed. It’s something you used to do often when you were a small girl. You were afraid of the thunder, and when storms came, Halfdan would sit on the floor and guard your bed.

He does it now, and you manage to fall asleep again.

***

The next morning, you hear voices in your room and almost jolt awake before you remember that you asked Halfdan to guard you in the night.

He’s talking to your father. Harald has returned from whatever matter he was attending to. You pretend to sleep, listening to their conversation.

“What are you doing in my daughters’ room, brother?” Harald asks.

You think Halfdan shrugs. “She had a nightmare.”

“Is she still asleep?” Harald asks. He probably wants to talk to you or spend time with you, but you don’t have the energy.

“Yeah.” Halfdan replies. They leave the room, and you sigh in relief.

A few hours later, Thordís opens the door. You turn at her quiet steps. The woman who basically raised you after your mother died has a sad smile on her face.

“I brought you some herbs.” She says, beginning to make them into a tea.

You don’t have to ask which herbs because you know. You nod, unable to speak and she sets the cup down on a table close to your bed.

“Don’t tell my father.” You beg her.

“I would never do that to you, child.” She replies, before scurrying out of the room. She still calls you child, even now, when you’ve lost all your innocence.

You stare at the herbs but can’t bring yourself to take them. Instead, you pick up your favorite dagger.

The shame raging in your body intensifies. Killing yourself is cowardly, dishonorable, but you don’t know what to do.

You’re a princess, you’re supposed to marry and then have many heirs, but even the thought of sleeping with someone makes you want to vomit. You enjoyed it before, but now…

The dagger is cool against the skin of your wrist as you drag it across. Scarlet droplets fall onto your furs and nightgown. The nightgown you’ve worn since that night, unable to look at your own body.

Silent tears stream across your face. Your own cowardice and weakness disgusts you and you feel guilty. Your father and uncle will go to Valhalla, where your mother is already waiting, and you will forsake your place at their side for this.

Your eyes grow heavy, and you let your head sink onto your pillow.

***

Someone shakes you awake. You panic and your eyes snap open, ready to defend yourself when you see your father.

You’ve never seen him look this panicked.

His eyes are red, and that tells you he’s cried. Thordís stands in the doorway, shaking as a healer is wrapping your wrist. Halfdan paces in your room.

Harald cups your face, and you know he’s trying to keep it together. You feel even guiltier.

“What were you thinking?” he asks, “I leave, and you are fine and then I come back to you slitting your wrist?” he looks exasperated, at a loss for words. Suddenly, he lets you go and looks around the room.

His eyes fall on the herbs and the tea, and you see that he begins to suspect something. Not rape, not yet.

“I’m sorry.” You cry, “I’m so sorry father.”

“Why?” he asks. You stare straight ahead. Blood soaks the bed around you as you think of what happened and the price you’re paying for it.

“OUT! ALL OF YOU, OUT!” he yells, and they all leave.

His voice hits you like a whip, and you try to make yourself even smaller, edging away from him.

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.” You cry, burying your head in your hands again.

Harald moves closer slowly. His hand almost touches your neck, covered by a shawl. When you feel him begin to unwind the shawl, you feel paralyzed, the bruises beginning to burn.

You can’t bear to look at him.

He inhales sharply when he sees the bruises, blotchy handprints mixed with forced hickeys.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, his voice dangerously low. You don’t respond.

He stands up and paces around the room. “WHO?” he repeats, and you flinch away from him.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

Harald sits back down and puts a gentle but firm hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are dark, violent.

“I don’t know.” You repeat. “I know I ruined your plans, father, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let them- “

He interrupts you. “It wasn’t your fault, but I swear by the Gods, I will find whoever did this and make them wish they’d never been born.”

You nod and begin to grab the tea, but he stops you.

“I’ve heard they’re dangerous. You shouldn’t risk it.”

“This isn’t like the other times. They didn’t care if I got pregnant.” Shame heats up your face as you finally confess the truth to him.

“There were six of them. I’ll take the risk.”

Before he can stop you, you chug the bitter brew.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harald asks.

“How could I? Do you think I don’t know what you do to women? I could ignore it before, but now it makes me sick. I know what it feels like and to think that my own father did this-“ you shake, before continuing, “Get out. I can’t even look at you without thinking about what they did.”

He pales at those words, but as you look at him with an expression of disgust, he stands and leaves the room, shoulders hunched.

***

You can’t sleep because your insides feel like they are knotting together. You vomit, the fourth time this night as Thordís rubs careful circles over your back.

Despite your cruel words, you can hear your father pacing outside the door, agitated as he worries that his only child will die after all.

Fate has something else in store for you, and you make it through the next few days. With the help of Thordís, you manage to take small walks through your hometown.

When Harald and Halfdan announce they’re going to Kattegat, you go with them. You need to go. It’s been two months and the excuses you can tell your people are running out.

Kattegat is blissfully familiar, untainted by violent memories.

“Will you come on the raid with us?” Halfdan asks as you sit in the longhouse. Harald stands off to the side, while Thordís unpacks your things.

“You know I can’t.” you press out. You asked Thordís to tell him because you couldn’t bear to do it again. Halfdan nods.

“Your betrothal to Ubbe-“ Harald begins with a sigh.

“I’ll still marry him.” You reply. You’d thought about it for a long time. If Halfdan and Harald were going to leave for the Mediterranean, you’d need someone to help you rule Vestfold. And Ubbe was kind, understanding. You’d slept with him before, you’d known him for a long time. You’d take him over a myriad of other suitors.

“I’ve thought about it.” You assure Harald, who still looks worried.

“Aslaug wants you to get married before we leave.” Harald says and you swallow.

“Fine.”

***

The feast is loud and uncomfortable, and you retreat into a corner. Normally, you’d be in the middle of it, drinking and talking.

Ivar sits down next to you. You can tell he knows that something is different. Thankfully, he doesn’t talk about it.

“You should be talking to your husband-to-be.” Ivar says, almost angrily.

For the first time in two months, you quirk a small smile. “We won’t stop being friends, you know.” You reply.

Your friendship was an accident really. You were the same age and when you’d visited Kattegat as a four-year-old, you’d stolen some cakes from the kitchen. Ivar had helped you hide after you promised him undying loyalty, a promise he still expected you to uphold.

Well, he’d always been extremely demanding.

“I’m going to raid with Ragnar. In England.” Ivar admonishes. You set down your cup.

“Excuse you?” you’d heard that Ragnar had returned of course, but you’d also heard in which manner he’d returned.

Ivar shrugs. “Hvitserk and Bjorn are leaving for the Mediterranean and I take it you’ll take Ubbe to Tamdrup with me. I’m not staying here with Sigurd.”

“So come to Tamdrup with me.” You say.

“I’ve made up my mind.” Ivar says.

“You’re an idiot.” You reply. Your expression softens and you take Ivar’s hand. “Don’t get yourself killed over there.”

When Ubbe approaches, Ivar rolls his eyes and leaves.

Ubbe sits down next to you, taking a drink from his cup.

“We’re getting married.” He says.

“Strange how the world works, eh?” you reply.

Ubbe chuckles. “We always knew how to have a good time together, so I’m not to worried.” He smirks flirtatiously.

Instantly, you feel guilty. If you keep this a secret your wedding night and marriage will be a nightmare for you. If you tell him, he might break off the engagement.

You put a hand on his arm decidedly. “About that. We have to talk. Do you know somewhere more private?”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he nods. Ubbe escorts you to his longhouse, leaving the sounds of the feast behind. You sigh deeply as he closes the door behind him.

His reaction isn’t at all what you expected. Ubbe’s face turns from confusion, to anger, to worry as he listens to your story.

“I just wanted to be honest.” You finish.

“We don’t have to.” Ubbe replies in an assuring voice. “Not until you’re ready.”

Relief floods you as you hug him tightly.

***

Your goodbye to Halfdan and Harald is hard but saying goodbye to Ivar is even worse. You doubt that this will be a successful raid.

Ubbe stands behind you. You have begun to truly love your new husband, who respects that you can’t sleep with him yet and comforts you if you wake from nightmares.

Ivar stares up at you, a slightly bratty expression on his face.

“What?” he asks.

“If you die on me, I’ll find a way to bring you back to life so I can kill you again for leaving.” You say. Ivar smiles, and you hug him goodbye. Aslaug comforts you as you watch your friend sail away.

Then, you turn to Ubbe.

“Are you ready to leave?” you ask, and he nods.

You agreed with your father that it would be good to have Ubbe by your side in his absence. A few warriors are loading crates with goods onto the ships you brought from Tamdrup and Thordís overlooks the thralls.

Quickly, you say goodbye to Aslaug and Sigurd before boarding a ship. Ubbe follows.

***

Sitting in your father’s throne, you listen to the problems and quarrels the people bring before you. Ubbe has been good company and gives wise advice. In time, the two of you will hopefully make good rulers.

When two brothers come forward, explaining their fight over a woman, Ubbe helps them while you look around the room.

That is when you see them. They sit at the back, drinking. Are they oblivious to you sitting on your father’s throne?

You know you are paling. When Ubbe says your name and you don’t respond, he follows your eyes and sees them.

“I need a break.” You tell him.

Ubbe claps his hands. “We’ll resume in a few minutes, for now, my wife and I must discuss an important matter.”

He turns to a guard and in a quieter voice, he adds, “Close the doors. Make sure no one leaves.”

You take his hand and lead him to your quarters.

“It’s them.” You say. Ubbe nods, “I figured. I should bloodeagle them. For what they did to you.”

A strong, but gentle hand carefully tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You enjoy the touch, strangely enough.

“My father and uncle would want the same, but I don’t want them to reach Valhalla. I’m not taking any chances.”

“Then what do we do?” he asks.

Your smile turns malicious as you ponder over your revenge. “Invite them for dinner.”

Ubbe nods slightly. “Sounds good.”

***

The healer gives you her most painful poison without question.

When you ask what it does, her old face seems to turn reminiscent. “It makes your skin burn from the inside. Makes you scratch it off until you die. Quite a lot of women use it to kill their husbands.”

You nod, and let it disappear in your dress sleeve.

That night, you ask Thordís to serve the ale, to which she happily agrees.

You and Ubbe take your seats when the men walk inside. They are talking and laughing with each other.

Two guards close the doors to the Great Hall before they can even get a look at you.

When they do, their laughter stills.

The things you chose to wear tonight were intentional. After you were raped, you threw the dress away, but you kept the jewelry because you didn’t want your father to suspect something.

It was the first time you’d worn them in three months, the pale stones that hung heavy around your neck and ears. Your dress had been picked out carefully by Thordís and your crown was the one Harald had had made for you when you were born.

You know you radiate power.

“Sit.” It isn’t a question, but a cold command. They are all pale now, their confidence diminished. A guard pushes the ringleader in the seat across from you. Ubbe wants to jump up and kill them, you know that, but he keeps his composure. For now.

When they begin eating and drinking, they seem relieved. Well, their first cups weren’t poisoned. You couldn’t make any guarantees for the refills though.

Thordís goes around with a neutral expression as she refills their cups. You want to kill one of them as he gropes her, but she doesn’t say anything.

They begin dying soon after that.

Only their leader remains, not having finished his cup. You pour him a new one, setting it down at his place at the table.

The sounds of his companions must be agonizing for him as he sits there, knowing exactly what his fate will be.

“Drink.” You command him. He refuses, of course, as the screams of his companions reach a crescendo.

Suddenly, Ubbe stands up and walks across the room and punches the man in the face. He does it so forcefully he knocks a few teeth out. Then, Ubbe slams the man on the table, hands around his neck.

“You raped my wife.” He growls, his fingers closing in. You stop him and give him the cup.

The man shakes his head, begging, but Ubbe forces the ale down his throat.

You look on in disgust as the man writhes on the floor.

The moment he stills, the doors to the Great Hall burst open. You turn to see your father and Halfdan stand there, warriors not far behind.

Harald counts them, getting to six and looks at you.

“You couldn’t wait?” he asks. Somehow, he manages to sound disappointed.

“No.” you reply.

Harald roughly kicks one of the corpses out of his way as he walks towards you. He hugs you tightly, and you know this is his way of telling you that he loves you. Then, he turns to one of the guards.

“Feed them to the pigs.” He commands.

As you watch the corpses get carried away, you know that tonight, you’ll sleep a little more peacefully. For so long, you felt like you were carrying a weight equal to that of Yggdrasil, but some of that weight has been lifted and your family and husband will carry it with you now.

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myherowritings · 5 years ago

Text

Borrowed Sweaters, Stolen Kisses

— In a game of Truth or Dare, you’re dared to sneak into your crush’s dorm and steal one article of clothing to wear the next day. It just so happens that the hoodie you snatched was Shinsou’s favorite sweater.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x reader word count: 2,204 genre: fluff, aged up au (class 3a) warnings: 16+, suggestive content

a/n: this used to be a harry potter fic i wrote on my hp account but i rewrote it for shinsou bc it just seemed fitting fhgjdhsfg. shinsou is in class 1a in this fic or 3a since they’re aged up and at least 18 years old u.u i hope y’all enjoy!! xx

“No way.” You shook your head, kicking your legs out in front of you as you ignored Hagakure’s poking and prodding.

It was a relatively relaxed Friday night, and you and your friends decided to spend it in your dorm with a bottle of whisky and a game of Truth or Dare. The truths ranged from anything to, “Fuck, marry, kill: Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari” to, “Who was the last person you sent a nude to?” And the dares weren’t any better. Ashido practically vomiting in the corner served as a great reminder of that.

You were just grateful the dares you received were rather mundane.

That was, until now.

“Y/N, you have to do it!” said Hagakure.

“Can’t I just forfeit this round and take a shot?”

“Nope, that’s only allowed for truths,” she quipped.

You glanced over at Jirou, a pleading look on your face, but you were met with a nonchalant shrug.

“Rules are rules,” Jirou sang, taking a swig of whisky before passing you the handle.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Mina’s fierce glare caused your words to die in your throat.

“If I had to chug that hot sauce concoction you guys made and then eat the mystery sushi until I felt sick, you can go to Shinsou’s room and steal a hoodie or something-- Sounds like a cakewalk compared to my dare.”

As she leaned her back against the bed, hand over her stomach as beads of sweat trailing down her forehead, you figured Mina was right. You’ve been in his dorm plenty of times before, anyway-- You two were friends and, at times, you supposed you enjoyed his company. What was the worst that could happen?

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up and slipped some fuzzy socks on, ignoring the cheers coming from your tipsy roommates. When you reached the door, your friends watching fervently as you wandered off to your ill-fated trek, you paused at the handle.

You looked back at them, heaving a sigh. “If his dorm turns out to be booby trapped and I get caught, just know I will haunt you from the grave after I die of embarrassment.”

“We expect nothing less,” was Tsuyu’s smart reply.

Soon enough, you found yourself climbing up the boys’ side of Heights Alliance, feeling like you were doing a reverse walk of shame. It was a quarter past three o’clock in the morning and the odds of any of them being awake were slim to none, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach.

You made your way to the front of Shinsou’s dorm room and cautiously placed your hand on the door handle. With a small grumble you fished the key card Hagakure stole from Hitoshi earlier (which made you wonder just how long your friends were planning this whole escapade out…) out of the pocket of your sweatpants.

For the most part, it looked just like your dormitory. Only neater. His desk was fairly organized and, aside from balls of yarn and different sizes of knitting needles, was clear enough to work on. Scarves and hoodies were piled onto the back of the chair and foot of the bed--which meant your dare should be easy enough to complete--and a dim light was left twinkling.

Everything seemed cozy and lived in. Normal.

Except for the fact that Shinsou Hitoshi was not in his bed.

“What on earth?” you murmured under your breath, finding it a bit strange the room was completely empty at this hour. But knowing him, you reckoned he was out training at any hour he could--something that worried you about him--or playing with a cat off campus grounds. It wasn’t unlikely.

Still, with your feet planted at the foot of his dormitory, you wanted to get out of there before you were caught. Because you knew there was no way in hell for your drunken ass to smooth talk your way out of this mess if he were to find you.

Your hand hovered over the article of clothing nearest to you, which was a sweater draped over the back of a chair, and you took a deep breath, saying, “It’s just a dare. You can do it.”

Before you lost all your nerve, you snatched the jumper with one hand and slipped out of the dorm. As you rushed down the stairs, you could’ve sworn you heard some shuffling coming from the empty room. But you didn’t care.

Part one of your dare was successfully completed.

Now for the hard part: Wearing it around the next day.

- - - - -

“How do I look?”

You posed in front of your roommate, trying not to laugh at how the borrowed jumper engulfed your frame. Walking down the center of your dorm, you gave a little twirl.

“Sexy,” Mina teased from her spot on her bed. “Shinsou’s sweater looks nice on you.”

Sticking your tongue out at her, you made a face. “I’m not sure what you mean. It’s pretty gross to me. I would never want to wear any of Shinsou’s clothes.”

“Then why did you put the hood over your head and bury your face in the collar?”

Slowly, you peered up at her with your view obstructed by the fabric. You sniffled haughtily, trying to ignore the soothing aroma of lavender and smoked wood that filled your sense.

Mina smirked, catching the small sigh of contentment that left your mouth as you basked in the scent of Shinsou’s hoodie. “Gross, huh?”

“Mention this to no one,” you mumbled with a nonthreatening glare, pulling the hood off your head and folding your fabric-covered hands over your chest.

Laughing, she tossed you your bookbag from across as she waited by the door, the rest of your friends back in their own rooms to get ready for class. “Come on, lovebug. You can see him during math in a few minutes.”

“I won’t be looking forward to it.”

You grumbled protests as the both of you made your way down the stairs of Heights Alliance and toward the main campus of U.A. High, but Ashido paid them no mind. Soon enough, you reached the room and spotted Jirou and Hagakure in their usual seats.

“Hey,” you quickly whispered, sliding into the seat next to Tooru before Ectoplasm sauntered over to the front of the class.

“Nice jumper,” she said simply, voice going an octave higher in amusement. “I knew you’d go through with it.”

Reminded of your rather bold choice of clothing (that was horribly out of dress code), you subconsciously tugged at the sleeves. You sent a quick plead to the gods above that you didn’t look as foolish as you thought you did.

While Ectoplasm introduced antiderivatives and indefinite integrals to the class, Hagakure nudged you on the side, sliding you a ripped piece of her parchment paper.

You looked at her curiously as Mina peered over your shoulder to catch sight of the writing.

DO NOT LOOK NOW!!! But I’m 100% certain Shinsou has been staring at you since the start of math class.

Of course, the first thing both you and Ashido did after reading the note was turn your heads at the same time towards the back of the class where Hitoshi and his friends were sitting. And, as your luck would have had it, you made directly eye contact with an amused-looking Shinsou.

Both you and Mina turned around to face the front so fast you were sure at least one of you received whiplash.

Wide-eyed and flushed, you exchanged glances with her, both of you trying to hold in your laughter.

“I told you not to look,” Hagakure whispered, a small giggle escaping from her lips, sending you three into fits of laughter you tried to muffle with your hands.

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, causing the three of you to straighten up in an instant.

“Something amusing you, ladies?”

“No, sir,” you quipped.

“Sorry, Ectoplasm-sensei,” remarked Tooru.

“We’ll shut up now,” promised Mina.

With a stern look on his face but a slight tilt of his smile, Ectoplasm nodded and returned to his lesson. “I trust you three will be experts of the integral calculus by the next lesson and I won’t have to catch you making doe eyes at a certain someone?”

Though he asked all three of you the question, his gaze was pointed at you and the class knew it. Your cheeks heated up as slouched into your chair. Perhaps if you tried hard enough, you could turn into the seat.

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled, ignoring the stifled laughter from Ashido and an apologetic, but amused, look from Hagakure.

And as he continued the lesson, you could’ve sworn you felt a certain pair of eyes on the back of your head until the end of it.

When class finally concluded and Ectoplasm dismissed the lot of you, you rushed out of the classroom as fast as you could.

But not fast enough.

“Nice sweater, Y/N,” you heard a deep voice call, stopping you in your footsteps. “Looks familiar.”

You swallowed, slowly turning around to face Shinsou--lazy smirk and all. There was nothing you wanted to do more than dash back to your dormitory and hide, but instead you straightened your spine and braved a look of nonchalance.

“Does it now?”

“Yeah,” he said with an amused look in his eyes. “I’d have to say it does.”

Peering up through your lashed, you looked at him with faux innocence. “I can’t say I know why.”

Slowly, he walked closer towards you as you moved back against the wall. He took the excess fabric of your sleeve into his hands, stroking them between his fingers.

“You know-- It even feels familiar.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Just like my sweater I happened to lose last night.”

By now, the halls had begun to clear up, the traitors you called friends having left you with a thumbs up right as Shinsou approached you.

You coughed as you repeated, “I wonder why.”

He was so close you could catch a whiff of his lavender and woodsy scent.

“If you wanted my clothes on you, Y/N, you could’ve just asked.”

You pointedly eyed the way he was toying with the hem of your--or rather, his--sweater, lifting it slightly. “Well, if you wanted my clothes off this badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Shinsou raised his eyebrows in surprise at your suggestion, hand frozen on the fabric. The intensity of his gaze melted your steely disposition, embarrassment creeping up to your neck.

“I’m only kidding,” you murmured, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

“That’s a shame, then.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you toyed with the bottom of your sweater.

“That’s my favorite jumper, you know?” mused Shinsou, looking fondly at the U.A. hoodie. “Aizawa got it for me when I entered the hero course.”

A horrified look crossed your face. You stole his favorite sweater that Eraserhead gifted him himself? Good going.

“Oh, shit,” you swore, reaching for the hem of the hoodie. “I’m sorry, Shinsou! I didn’t know.”

Chuckling, Shinsou placed his hand on top yours to stop you from removing it. “No-- You can keep it on.” You paused. “I’d say I quite like how it looks on you.”

Your heart skipped a beat when his hand that was still on your ran down the length of your fingers. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you interlaced them with his own, causing him to send a shocked but pleased look your way. You smiled.

He ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him. “If I were to kiss you right now, would you be upset?”

You shook your head, leaning into his touch. “Upset is the last thing I’d be.”

“Well, then I suppose--”

“What are the two of you doing?” you heard Aizawa exclaim as he rounded the corner, catching sight of the two of you against the hallway. He pulled Shinsou away from you by the collar, your cheeks flooding with embarrassment.

Shinsou, however, looked unperturbed.

“Sorry, Aizawa-sensei,” he said sincerely, “but what I was about to do just then-- I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

He chuckled at the shocked look on your face, giving you a wink as Aizawa released his shirt. Shinsou made his way back over to you across the hall.

“How cute you looked in my sweater was only the catalyst,” said Shinsou before placing both hands on either side of your hips, pulling you towards him in a brief but deep kiss.

“Shinsou! Y/L/N!”

“Sorry, sir.” This time, Shinsou didn’t sound so sincere as he ignored the appalled look on Aizawa’s face. “I just couldn’t wait until we got to the dorms to do that. Don’t worry though, Y/N-- I swear there will be far better kisses that’ll take place there as well.”

And though the two of you may have been sentenced to detention and cleaning duty for the next three weekends, you would have to say the kiss was definitely worth it.

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buttercupyellow · 10 months ago

Text

i thought that it was supposed to be like "the secret is sharing it" in that he would need to learn to read with someones help. so noodle helped to bring his mum to him by teaching him to read (and he then brings her to her own mum).

maybe its like if his mum was expecting to die before he learned to read then he would need someones help in reading her note. and if she died suddenly, then she probably was trying to teach him to read, or had it planned, and just died before she was able to finish with him.

also, wonka does say that he focused on other areas of education. so she probably did try, or offer to teach him, and he chose not to learn (i thought he might've been dyslexic while watching it).

(EDIT: my sister pointed out that he wouldn’t have needed to read because he was travelling for 7 years around the world, he mentions Japan, Belarus, Peru, India, etc, and he wouldn’t have been able to speak their language let alone read it with how many places he travelled to in a short time span.)

plus the 1930s isn't so out of left field to have an illiterate kid, in 2015 they found that 16% of adults in the UK have a reading level equivalent of a 5 year old. so for a movie set between the world wars, i don't think it's too unrealistic esp considering his job as a ship's chef wouldn't need him to read anything much, and he canonically says he "relied on the kindness of strangers".

it's still a modern problem, a kid i grew up down the street from was illiterate. sat next to him in a class and he refused all the worksheets, never wrote anything down, never paid attention to the board etc. we all thought he was just lazy or a stoner or smth. found out years later that he just couldn't read or write.. (not his parents fault either. They had no idea bc he masked it well & never needed it in his job esp since his dad was his ceo)

i saw wonka and i just have one thing to say.

why did wonka not know how to read?

his mother never taught him? yet she left him the “secret ingredient” in the chocolate she made in the form of a WRITTEN note. that’s so fucked up. he didn’t even know what letters were! and she was like “here’s my secret, you little fucking idiot”

#wonka 2023

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leviiattacks · 4 years ago

Note

heyyy there, saw your requests are open. and i'm wondering maybe you could do a timeskip where everything is done and levi finally opened his tea shop. then there he met reader, and he treats them differently from other customers. thank you, hope you're having a good day.

author note :: this was kinda rushed as is most of what i post. the reader is a writer just bc i thought it would be cute and also ISTG. i wrote this entire thing thinking leviolas was such a cool name for a tea shop then googled it and saw it’s also the name of a spider so... ++ btw i have not yet double checked or proofread this because i wrote it at 2am but yeah it’s definitely not great :-) word count :: 2.4k??? somehow???

you’re sweet like honey when you first order from leviolas. you’re the same when you ask the owner for extra napkins and you remain exactly the same when you return with the intention to stick around for a writing session with a black tea by your side

something about you is attractive. that’s what levi thinks of you when you first walk into leviolas

you’re just incredibly wholesome poking your head around looking at all of the handmade pastries and confectioneries in admiration

you think the homely decor is cute and reminiscent of cottages in the countryside, the view outside the windows is beautiful and the scent of coffee alongside tea is heavenly

the pastries are beautiful and you find yourself eyeing the macrons pretty frequently. just EVERYTHING about leviolas is cute :-(

but one particular thing is especially adorable to you

and that would be the owner

when you hear his name for the first time you’re a little shocked

levi ackerman to be specific captain levi ackerman, the high ranking official who aided in paradis’ independence and freed the nation from the grip of titans

you read about him a year back in a paper or two and vividly recall the valiant title he held as humanity’s strongest soldier

he still holds the title that’s for sure but now he happens to own a tea shop

it’s slightly unusual it’s not every day you see a soldier retire and live such a plain life but you suppose the simplicity makes levi happy

honestly, if you had been through hell and back like him you too would wish to spend the rest of your days in the company of tea leaves and sweet cakes

today is a day like any other you’re sat by one of the windows and contemplating sitting in the outside seating area

the sun is shining and lands uncomfortably on your face at this angle and you may as well make your way outside

but before you can a shadow looms over you and a broad chest leans over to cover the window with dainty curtains

“you looked bothered by the light.”

oh god.

it’s him.

he’s standing there looking at you with an unreadable expression and all you can do is open and close your mouth not knowing what to say

humanity’s strongest soldier

levi ackerman

also known as the really really really attractive cafe owner you’ve been crushing on for the last few months now

seeing him up close is much more different to looking at him from the comfort of your seat or whilst you order

he’s normally got his back turned whilst collecting orders or another worker collects them as he prepares the beverages

that’s why the unexpected interaction has you nervous

you can always tell when he’s made your drink because he honestly has a way with tea leaves and you kinda want to gush about how much you enjoy it

but, no, no, no.

you’re panicking just looking at him

soft black strands of hair stick to his forehead, his undercut is oddly satisfying to stare at and he smells of pine trees which again is refreshing

“ah hahaha thank you for blocking the sun out!!”

why the fuck did you ha ha????

this is so awkward.

putting on your best front you beam up at him hoping your toothy smile doesn’t look stupid

then again it probably does because who the hell has a good toothy smile

nobody.......

levi’s gaze lingers on you but if he has anything else he wants to say he doesn’t make it known

instead he firmly nods and turns away

you’ve messed up,,

only!!! you manage to mess up even more....?

without thinking your hand latches onto the back of his blue button up and your face burns up realizing what it is you’ve done when he stiffens to a stop

as quick as your hand has grabbed onto his shirt it lets go and you awkwardly laugh again

hahahahaha

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to hold onto you so hard i was just...wondering if you could let me in on your secret.”

the random sentence is one you’ve made off the top of your head because you don’t have any real reason for holding onto him

but thankfully for you the saccharine of your voice is enough to sway levi

when he turns to see you with the same smile eagerly awaiting his answer something sparks in him

his chest feels a little funny but he ignores it

“secret?” he questions

“yeah!! your tea!! you’re really good at making it and aaaahhhh” you sigh contently thinking back on it.

“i remember when i ordered rose tea one time. you made it beautifully and the taste was infused so delicately it was incredibly soothing.”

hearing you ramble passionately about what he loves to do makes his chest feel funny again

he doesn’t know what the hell is going on exactly

but the only way he can explain it is his heart somersaulting and flipping despite him not wanting it to

despite that, it’s quite enjoyable

it’s probably got something to do with your kindhearted demeanor or the way you always manage to give him a smile when you waltz in

but levi finds himself fighting to touch you more and more as the days pass

your collar is always haphazardly done and he wants to lean in and fix it

sometimes you’ll have an eyelash on your face and he wants to lean in to swipe it away with his thumb

occasionally he stares at your hair and wants to sort it out. half the time it’s all over the place from the wind

he wants to lean in and smooth it out.

all he wants to do is LEAN IN but he sees no valid reason to

he’s lucky he’s always able to catch himself before his thumb reaches your cheek (you’re very oblivious and never notice how close he really gets)

ever since your first encounter at leviolas a few months back he’s been dragged into your world of books and lively stories

it doesn’t take you long to break out of your shell and you’re always telling levi something new

he doesn’t speak as much as you but when you coax out a story or two out of him he’s always earnest

you’ve learnt a lot through the conversations

you’ve learnt about his lost comrades, the horrible things he had to see on the battlefield, how he hopes he’ll live happy with what he has left

there are certain conversation topics he skips entirely and you respect his boundaries

you and levi are sat by a window and a comfortable silence floats between you two

it’s been four months

four months since you asked what his secret was

come to think of it he never told you what it was

he’s intently staring at you as you drink the lemon tea he’s just made you and his stare is a little too intense

feeling nervous you pick up your cup hoping for something to occupy yourself

recently the butterflies in your stomach have been increasing in number but you know it’s wrong to fancy levi

you don’t know why you think that but it’s the fact that you’re sure you’re not his type

he probably likes organised people, dependable people, funny people

not you.

you’re just an irksome author who spends your days writing in his shop

honestly he finds you annoying he has to. you’re always hanging around here

however, you do remember the one day you did choose to write in the park he thought you had died or something. that made you feel a little sad because he can’t really help but automatically worry if his routine is broken and you happen to have accidentally become part of his schedule

no, like levi’s literally said he has your name in his planner and whenever he thinks of a new thing to make you he’ll write it down with your name next to it

but still,, you’re convinced he has to find you annoying

there’s no reason for thinking it but you DEFINITELY think it’s correct

absentmindedly you haven’t even noticed levi still staring at you

“y/n?”

looking up at levi he’s clearly worried about something

humming in response telling him to continue he does

“i like someone.”

oh.

“...i’m not sure they’d return my feelings, that’s why i mentioned it.”

you smile at him warmly and you feel your heart sink, obviously he has to like someone. it’s probably someone in the corps, someone strong, someone capable. you’re not any of those things.

“well, you need not worry. if a man as good as you fancied me i’d be over the moon. i’m sure they would too!”

keep optimistic, don’t let him see you upset.

levi’s cheeks grow bright red and he bashfully tries to hide his embarrassment by covering his face with his hands

you laugh when he doesn’t budge and stays in the same position

“c’mon levi, confess they’ll accept you have nothing to fear.” you coo persuasively

finally letting up after a few seconds he lets his arms drop to his sides.

“would you date me?”

the question takes you aback and you stare at him startled

soon realizing the idiocy laced in the inquiry he quickly retracts his statement

“nevermind, that was stupid.”

ignoring him you still want to answer

“uh well, i would. i have thought about it on occasion.”

he’s blinking rapidly trying to process what you’ve just admitted.

“you’ve thought about...?”

“dating you. yes i have.”

“and why the hell would you do that?” you can’t tell if he’s mad at you

“you’re capable, respectful. you’re considerate and quiet. i mean it you’re an amazing man really. also your tea!! imagine getting to drink it every day.”

you really have to add in the part about his tea because you know he loves it when you compliment it :-)

“ok, you drink my tea every day already.”

his short uninterested response stings and the dam of regret bursts open

you shouldn’t have said all of that.

you and levi sit in an awkward silence for what feels like an eternity. you don’t dare look at him and your course of action is too drink your tea as quick as possible before dismissing yourself.

but before you can set your plan in motion levi breaks the ice.

“let’s date.”

you freeze and your eyes grow to the size of saucers

what did he just say???

he has to be losing his mind

“but levi what about the person you like?”

his eyebrow cocks upwards and an amused expression stretches across his face.

“i was talking about you.” he confesses boldly

this is a fever dream, nope, nope nope. you can not comprehend that this is your reality.

pinching your arm you hiss a little when you feel the pain

okay so, you’re definitely not dreaming...

“i, you, me. you...you like me?” the sentence is a jumble of words but you manage to sputter out something that makes sense

“yes. i like you.”

he’s being so blunt you can’t tell if he’s being serious but when you remind yourself that this is levi you relax, a blunt straightforward confession is meaningful coming from him

BUT THAT’S BESIDES THE POINT

HELLO???? HE LIKES YOU BACK?%^%^”*

you get all blushy and flustered and you let out another one of your awkward hahahahaha’s but it’s a good hahahahaha

cautiously testing the waters he grabs your hand from across the table intertwining his fingers with yours

the gesture is adorable. the buzzing sensation that travels through your laced fingers makes you giggle to yourself giddily

“leviolas suddenly a matchmaking agency now? ;-)” your joke is dry and unfunny and levi rolls his eyes at it

“you’re not funny.”

“but you still like me.” you tease

“yes. i still like you.” he admits

a few days have passed since then

you and levi have been the talk of the town

humanity’s strongest soldier finally found his flame???

the chatter and rumors spread like wildfire, both you and levi aren’t fans of being in the spotlight but nothing negative has been said so there’s no complaints so far

levi places a cup of tea in front of you, it’s a herbal kind because you’ve been complaining about a headache

today you’re explaining why you dislike the plot of beauty and the beast and how there’s so much wrong with it. from the weirdly toxic relationship to the power imbalance. levi stands listening attentively whilst waiting for you to take a sip of the tea

just as you’ve paused to take a large breathe and prepare yourself to continue explaining how unbearable that book is levi uses it as his chance to say what he’s been wanting to

“drink up before it’s ice cold.”

following his instructions you interrupt yourself and take a gulp of the herbal tea

your eyes glimmer in approval. it tastes of strawberries and you’re delighted already feeling your mood slightly raise in response

“it’s GREAT?? what did you put in it?? it doesn’t even taste medicinal.” once again, you’re fawning over his tea

“so levi ackerman, what really is the secret to all these perfect cups of tea?”

and without a seconds hesitation he responds.

“i was making the tea for you. that’s the secret.”

it takes a while for the gravity of his words to sink it but when the meaning does you cup his face in your palms and peck him everywhere. he whines a little but you can tell he enjoys the attention

you find that you’re more than happy you’ve found a home in levi and his shop

and levi’s more than happy he’s found a home in you and your books

:-)

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