#this post will make since in however many weeks it takes me to get everything posted to this point lol
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violetsareblue-selfships · 4 months ago
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that first night post-episode 3 w/ just vi and me would be interesting. like i haven't shared a bed with anyone other than cait in years (like since i was a child with my mother type of thing) & she hasn't shared a bed with anyone since like powder + i'm cuddly by nature (honestly i think she is too) so we'd wake up all tangled together, which would be less awkward if we were actually dating at this point
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ahsokaismyqueen · 10 months ago
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Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist
Welcome to the Steve x HendersonSister! Universe! I have so many ideas for these two, and will probably never go through them all, but I wanted to keep them in one place! They will not be posted in chronological order, but I will list them here that way. Hope you enjoy!
Idiotic Decisions - Working on a project with douchebag Steve Harrington was not something you were looking forward to doing. However, you’re surprised to find that maybe he’s just a little less of a jerk than you thought. (Season 1)
Disappointed Revelations - After working on a school project together, you had actually started to believe that there was more to Steve Harrington than meets the eye. All of that changes after an interaction with Jonathan Byers. (Season 1)
The Evolution of Friendship - After Steve is attacked by Billy Hargrove, you’re shocked to find the guy still attempting to protect you as you two go into the hub to try and buy Eleven some more time. It makes you wonder. Are you and Steve Harrington actually … friends? (Season 2)
Hold Me Tight - Ever since Prom, Steve and you had been growing closer to crossing that line from friendship to something more. During a hot summer day, a little more of that line gets crossed. (Before Season 3)
Conversations On Top of an Elevator - Well, your brother has gotten you and Steve into another mess, this time on top of a Russian elevator. While Steve stresses out, you reassure him that you’ve gotten out of this shit before, you can do it again. (Season 3)
Saving Steve - Steve Harrington has already saved your life, so it’s time to return the favor. Little did you know that would feel a little less like an action movie and more like taking care of rowdy toddlers. (Season 3)
You Feel the Same? - The tension that’s been rising between you and Steve all summer has finally been set to boiling after spending time trapped in Russian elevators together and overhearing his confession to Robin about the new girl he likes who sounds suspiciously like you. After everything, you don’t care if it ends up burning you anymore. You just know you can’t waste another second not being with him. (Season 3)
Those Three Little Words - 18+ ONLY. Steve gets upset when he finds a letter on your table from Indiana University, and it forces the two of you to confess something you’ve been trying to say for a while now. (Before Season 4)
Reunions and Future Plans - For the first time in a long time, you and Steve haven’t seen each other in three weeks since you started college. So he decides to surprise you. (Before Season 4)
Holding You to That - Steve Request. You go to get your boyfriend Steve from Family Video when Robin tells you you’re a distraction, and of course you’re not! Okay, maybe a little. (Before Season 4)
A Not So Good Day - It’s Spring Break in Hawkins, and you can already tell that it’s going to be a great, relaxing time. Well, until you find out that your best friend might be dead and the gate to the Upside Down might not be as closed as you thought. (Season 4)
Finding Eddie - After a long day of trying to find Eddie, you, Steve, your brother, Robin and Max all find your way to Reefer Rick’s house where the time finally comes to tell the truth to your ex-best friend. (Season 4)
Watergate - Dustin has a theory that there’s a new gate, and Nancy has a suspicion of where it might be. The best swimmer needs to go to the bottom of Lover’s Lake and check it out. Unfortunately, much to Steve’s displeasure, that happens to be you. (Season 4)
Travelin' Man - Well, you didn’t love Eddie’s plan, but you also didn’t see many other options. (Season 4)
Saving the World or Not - Steve’s gone off to fight Vecna while you’ve stayed behind to distract the bats. What could possibly go wrong? (Season 4)
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notjustjavierpena · 3 months ago
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Needy
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: LONG AGO, @yxtkiwiyxt tagged me in a post about Pedro in a black tee and jeans that reminded her of her hubby. Then this happened. I hope you can forgive the wait.
Summary: Pregnancy comes with horniness.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: Pregnancy and hormones, touch-starved, hot sweaty javi, so many pet names in spanish, praise kink, pregnancy sex, light dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, couch sex, slow and intense riding, piv sex, pussy eating, face-sitting, finger-fucking, multiple orgasms, squirting, handjob, pillow talk
Word count: 4.2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62563027
Needy
A few months ago, a friend from work had asked you how far along you were in your pregnancy over lunch and snickered knowingly when you said that your second trimester would be ending around now. She had leaned close and whispered in a voice only meant for you that she’d not been able to keep her hands off her husband when she’d entered her third trimester. 
You had scoffed with heated cheeks, embarrassed by talking about your sex life with a coworker, and had not been sure what to say to such a statement. However, at 29 weeks pregnant where only sweatpants and dresses feel comfortable, you find yourself grateful that someone took the opportunity to warn you. Why? Because it’s like an itch that you cannot scratch. 
You want Javier Peña all the goddamn time, not caring whether you will be the cause of rug burn to his poor manhood. You are a caged animal, stalking around restlessly in your enclosure because the confinement makes you stressed out and horny. There’s no time for decorum, no time to keep it together because it’s so torturous to have hormones raging through you that you have two options: Either you get down and dirty, getting fucked by him, or have a hissy fit that results in sobbing after flinging yourself onto the bed (a thing that often results in Javier doing his duty and pulling up the skirt of your dress with polite surrender).
Thankfully, not all days are that bad. Some days, the prickle of your skin and the ache between your thighs are nothing more than a dull sensation in the very back of your mind, a simmer that has a manageable warmth. It means you can take on the day without being on the verge of tears, suffering greatly if you aren’t touched.  
Today, however, is not such a day. 
Javier has been out of the house since sunrise, having kissed you goodbye in the morning in a way that has left you wanting more. His reason for leaving you to yourself all day hasn’t been unreasonable, spending his time as an unpaid ranch hand at his father’s farm. 
Meanwhile, you have been listening to the tick of the clock on the wall, waiting like a damsel in distress for him to come home and save you from the curse your body has you under. You have tried everything to satisfy the devil in you and you’ve gone as far as to keep your phone locked up in your bedroom so you wouldn’t text him to come back early. After all, Chucho has had a rough time during spring, and this summer has called for an extra field hand, a thing he cannot afford to pay for in his retirement. The way Javier is committed to his family is actually one of the things you love most about him, and also why you had convinced yourself that it was fine to have a day to yourself this morning. However, as the sun dips lower on the horizon, it becomes more evident that Javier can never leave this long again. 
Finally, as the evening drags on slowly and the sun starts painting the living room in yellows and oranges, you hear the sound of your husband’s truck pulling into the driveway. Your body responds immediately, your pulse spiking in the anticipation of the moment he walks in the door but there’s impatience in you unlike anything you have experienced before. 
You rush to the window to peer out at him and spot him just in time to see him stepping out onto the stone driveway and slamming the old door shut behind him. A thrill goes through you, a longing to be in his arms immediately and it is so profound that you feel your throat tightening with relieved tears at having him here. 
You cannot wait the minute it takes for him to walk inside, you decide, and so you rush to the front door and pull it open. You rush outside to greet him, your dress swooshing along your knees as you take quick steps. 
The second he sees you, you can feel yourself ready to melt into a puddle. He looks dusty and tired yet still smiles softly as his eyes meet yours. He is just about to greet you when you give him no chance to speak, wrapping your arms around his neck and catching his mouth in a deep, fervent kiss. He rests his hands on your hips and you think you might die if he doesn’t have you right here. 
“I missed you so bad,” you confess in a whine and find yourself unable to stop kissing him. You obscenely nip at his bottom lip, brush your tongue against the seam of his mouth, all the while murmuring in a desperate plea, “Don’t you ever leave your horny wife that long again.” 
When in need of catching your breath, you make the mistake of burying your face in the crook of his neck. You pant already from how worked up you are, your mouth feeling sensitive and swollen already from your make-out session. His scent is of the outdoors mixed with the sweat from hard labor, and as you pull back slightly to gaze upon your man, you see the damp patch on his black t-shirt around his neck, a testament to how gorgeous he has looked as he worked under the sun all day. 
Finally, as he is allowed to take a breath, a low chuckle falls from his mouth. There’s a tinge of desire in his voice as he speaks, “Let’s get you back inside the house, mi amor (my love). I fear what you might do out here.”
“Promise me you’ll fuck me,” you groan against his shoulder, at the mercy of your body and therefore not strong enough to play coy, to tease and make him chase you. You’re all his because his touch is the only remedy for your relentless yearning. 
“Te prometo, mamacita (I promise, mamacita),” he promises. He locks up the car, smiling to himself as he sees you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. When he has pulled the handle a few times to make sure the truck is locked, he urges you to go back into the house.
When you start walking, you feel his broad hand rest on the small of your back and the car keys jingling from his thumb. You have to catch a feeble noise in your throat, your palms laying on your swollen belly to keep them busy. 
Once inside, Javier throws the car keys into a bowl on the side table next to the door. He marches across the room, boots heavy on the floorboards, and then lets himself fall down into the couch with an exhausted grunt. He reaches up to rub his eyes with the heels of his hands, sighing deeply from the satisfaction. 
You follow him around like a puppy would follow its owner, and when he doesn’t make any moves to fulfill your every desire this instant, you take matters into your own hands and show him that you are not playing around when you display your desperation. 
You waste no time straddling him, hiking up your dress enough for the only fabric between him and your core to be the cotton of your panties. It’s visible, the way his mouth goes dry, the way your beautiful pregnant body turns him on in a ridiculously short time. When his left hand touches your hip again and his right rests on your belly, rubbing soothingly, he silences every voice in your head. 
“Mi niña (my girl),” he coos when he has regained his composure and your whole body buzzes. He has a coy smile on his face, “You’re so beautiful up there.”
“How beautiful?” You ask, reaching between your bodies to undo the zipper on his usual jeans to get his cock out. He doesn’t protest, simply lets you take what you need from him until the edge has been taken off. He knows better than to dismiss your urgency when you have been deprived of his dick for an inhumanely long time. Instead, he reaches to slip a finger into the front of your panties and moves them to the side.
“More beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen in all my years on this Earth.” he charms with immediate success because you drag his jeans and underwear down just enough to be able to sink down on his bare cock and with no concern for his gnawing zipper. 
He groans while you gasp, your mouth falling open and your eyes blinking closed at the immediate relief of being stretched out by his generous size. He fits inside of you, large and pulsing against your fluttering walls and you find yourself already moving on top of him. 
“Fuck, you’re drenching me,” he murmurs gruffly beneath you, and yes, you are. Your pussy is soaked for him, squelching obscenely each time it takes him to the brim, “Is this all because of how I left you alone all day? How cruel of me. I made this pussy all wet.”
Usually, you would reply with something but you have been so desperate during the last few hours that you find yourself completely fucked out already. You move faster, greedy for release, and Javier says your name to no avail. 
Suddenly, his hand slides up your forearm and over your shoulder. It settles right at the base of your skull and it holds onto you firmly until you come back to him. He tilts your head so he can lock eyes with you. 
You whimper when his other hand stops your movements on his cock altogether, and it borders on embarrassing when your desperation causes you to tear up, “Please, Javi.”
“You’ve got such a greedy pussy today, mi amor (my love),” he tuts disapprovingly and holds you still. He seems almost like he would be content with just having your warm heat wrapped around him, squeezing him occasionally when you think about what he could be doing.
“I just want you so much, papí,” you moan pathetically and wiggle slightly in his lap. He nods while dragging his nails down your spine, testing you to see if you will behave in the seconds it takes to place his palms on your sides. 
“I know,” he says gently while cupping your waist, “Listen to me.”
You are wide-eyed and at your wit’s end. You’ll do anything to have him make you come. 
“I’m going to make you come on it,” he says and fucks up into you once, nearly making you fall off his lap from the surprise. He steadies you with his hands sliding across your skin to firmly hold onto your lower back, urging you to start rolling your hips back and forth instead of up and down, “And then I am going to make you sit on my face until you come on that too.” 
You swallow thickly, tiny mewls and moans escaping your mouth as you ride him slowly. You thoroughly love it when he directs you, takes care of you, and since getting pregnant, he knows how much you need him to make decisions before you throw a tantrum in your horniness. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He taunts without any meanness behind his words, clutching your body in his grip to keep you from falling into another vigorous pace, “To make your pussy feel good, hm? She happy now?”
“Mhm… Very happy,” you nod with a tiny smile, moving slowly in his lap because he isn’t allowing you anything more. He fills you repeatedly with each movement of your hips over his, the head of his cock threatening each time to slip out of you before he guides you to take him all the way again. It feels like heaven, your orgasm building slowly but steadily instead of rapidly. He knows you so well, knows how disappointing it would have been if it was over too soon. 
“You’re all I thought about today too,” he murmurs against your mouth when you dip down to kiss him, cupping his face and letting your thumbs caress his cheeks before you go further up to tug at his hair. Your hands are made to slide between the soft tufts, just like your body is made to melt into his arms. 
“Te quiero, te quiero, te quiero (I love you, I love you, I love you),” you repeat breathlessly, a little firmer in your pace. His cockhead catches at something just right inside of you and it makes you nearly double over into him. 
“Don’t rush it, mamí,” he tells you gently and maneuvers you to tilt your hips ever so slightly, “It’ll come. You’re so close. Fuck, I love you so much.”
You come so intensely from that slight change of angle that your vision blurs. It is deep and overwhelming, everything below your navel pulling at you before going off into squeezes of pure, indescribable ecstasy. Your voice cracks, your moans pitch, and you can hear Javier’s name tumble from your lips while you repeat just how much you’re there.
“I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming,” you groan with furrowed brows, pulling his face into your chest and feeling him kiss on top of the fabric of your dress. 
“I know, baby, I know,” he moans while you ride it out, “Fuck, I know you are. You’re taking it so fucking well.”
It takes a few long seconds for your climax to start fading. You rock in his lap until you cannot do it anymore, and then you come to a halt with him still settled deep inside you. He rubs your thighs to soothe and draws back a little to look at you while you pant from exertion. 
“Eres perfecta (You’re perfect),” he mumbles with awe, “Did that help, huh?”
You nod with a blissed-out expression, suddenly very aware of how much you were actually in distress because there’s a lightness to your very core. Your cheeks are warm, your heartbeat slowing after having pounded in your chest. 
“Let’s take this off,” he coos, helping you out of your dress completely. You haven’t worn a bra today since your breasts are sore and firm with milk, and so he has you in nearly all your glory while you are warming the length of his still-hard dick too. 
“That better?” He asks again, kissing the bare skin of your upper chest where you feel like you are burning up from not having undressed earlier. Eagerness comes with a price.
“Sí (Yes),” you mumble and inhale his scent while resting your cheek on top of his head. You swirl your hips to make him growl beneath you, “Your turn.”
“You think I’m done with you?” His voice is smug as he stills you on top of him again before his hand rubs along the curve of your pregnant belly, “You think I’d break my promise and let this pussy be all touch-starved? She needs more.” 
“But Javi,” you say with your brain still fuzzy, mind a jungle from how well he touches you. 
“Shut your brain down and take off your panties. I want to take care of my pregnant wife,” he orders with a peck to your slightly parted lips. He groans when you drag yourself off his cock, leaving a wet shine on the smooth skin. It slaps against his belly and forms a dark stain on his black t-shirt. 
You stand, albeit a little wobbly, in front of the couch and shimmy out of your underwear in the most elegant way possible with a pregnant belly. Then you watch him tug his jeans down his thighs and kick them off. He follows it up by ridding himself of his t-shirt too before rearranging himself on the sofa to make it easy for you both. He chooses to lie flat on his back, stretching his body, overworked from today’s farmwork, with a satisfied grunt while he waits for you to climb onto him. 
“Come here, mamacita,” he says when you straddle him carefully. He coaxes you to crawl forward by pushing gently on the back of your thighs. You always worry about smothering him like this, especially when pregnant, but he doesn’t ever complain, actually gets more enthusiastic about it than you. 
“¿Así? (Like this?)” You ask shakily when you hover just above his ravenous mouth. His breath ghosts over your cunt, cooling the slick slightly and driving you crazy. 
“Así, yes, just like that,” he replies. He reaches up and runs his index finger across your clit before spreading you open for his tongue, your body responding with a sharp intake of air, “You want me to touch you here, baby?” 
“Yeah, so badly,” you swallow around nothing and close your eyes, waiting patiently for him to stop his teasing. He is so good at this that the wait is awful.
“Yeah,” he repeats without mocking you, “My gorgeous wife is insatiable.”
Luckily, he doesn’t keep you waiting. His nose nudges you first then his mouth. He kisses your sensitive clit a few times before tensing up his tongue, it feeling silky smooth where you need it the most.
One of his strong hands rests on your swollen belly while the other scratches along the length of your thigh, creating nail marks that he soothes with his rough palm afterward. Simultaneously, his touch makes you relax further and settle more onto his face. 
“Use me, honey. I deserve to be used for how cruel I have been,” he hums below you before he stretches his neck and dives in to practically devour your cunt, You rock yourself back and forth with tiny gasps at the heat already tightening in your belly, his nose catching on your clit with every other grind of your hips to build another orgasm steadily. 
But despite how much he’d claim that he’s not aching to come, you wouldn’t believe it for a second. With a stretched-out arm behind you and your palm on his thigh to steady you, you lean back slightly so your other hand can reach for his still hard and ready cock. You wrap your fingers around him to earn a gasp against your core, the work of his tongue faltering for just a second.
You stroke him with the same hunger that he is showing you, working him to the edge while both of your moans bounce off the walls even if he is muffled by how enthusiastically he eats your pussy at the same time. 
He comes with his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, his body tensing up for a second until it releases with a groan. The sound is so hot that you grind a little harder on his skilled tongue, feeling how he pulses in your hand and coats it in thick stripes of his seed. 
He responds almost gratefully. Both hands settle on the small of your back to pull you forward onto your hands and knees. You try not to get come onto the couch, giggling in surprise through a moan of his name. But the laughter dies in your throat when he holds you firmly in place and slips one hand between your thighs again. 
He pushes two fingers into you while suckling expertly on your clit. You see stars begin to form on your eyelids, almost wail when he makes a come-hither motion towards your belly. 
It’s too much. It’s not enough. 
“I think… Javi, I’m gonna— Stop, I’ll—“ you cry when your thighs start to shake. He doesn’t relent, apparently knows exactly what he wants and he isn’t shy about it like you are. His fingers work fast, enough for your cunt to drool into his palm. 
And with that, you come one more time and the pressure it releases inside of you is so good that it makes you gush all over his chin. Your voice breaks into a high-pitched cry and he holds his fingers against that perfect spot inside of you, keeps them there while your orgasm peaks and you can’t help but apologize for how much you’re wetting his face.
When you think it is over, he drags the digits out slowly and shoves them back in. The pads of his fingers have you hunching over and gasping his name, another gush forcing its way past his fingers. He drinks your come as if he were a man in the desert, desperate and starved. 
You take it like a champ, trying not to squash him with how your thighs tighten around his head during the last few shocks of pleasure that he brings out of you, and eventually, you sag enough for him to help you back down into his lap. 
You are horrified by the sight of him at first, red-faced and bathed in your slick and come. However then you see the glint in his eyes, the lopsided grin that he gives you as he props himself up on an elbow. He is pussydrunk out of his mind. 
“How are you feeling now, mi vida (my life)?” He asks while reaching for his t-shirt with his free hand. He wipes his face with it, his eyes still glazed over with bliss and pride; the combination that only exists in a man who has just made his wife orgasm let alone gush all over him. 
“Forget about me,” you laugh breathlessly and use the t-shirt for your messy hand too, “How are you feeling?”
“Good. Very good,” he sits up to face you and lets you take the t-shirt out of his hands. He looks completely at your mercy, “You’re so fucking hot.”
“I bet,” you find a clean side of the garment to wipe at a spot he has missed then playfully swipe at his nose, “And thank you.”
“You’re welcome, mi amor (my love),” he whispers as he comes closer. He takes your wrist in his hand until you drop the t-shirt and then leans in for a long, drawn-out kiss that has your whole body weak. He guides your hand to his face and mirrors it with his own on your cheek. The look he gives you causes you to chew on your bottom lip, “Lo siento por hoy (I’m sorry about today).”
“You don’t have to apologize for your wife being a little crazy because of hormones,” you brush it off - after all, the aftermath always makes you look back on it and feel silly - but he just rests his forehead against yours and nods. 
“I know but I should have cleared it with you and with the baby, or at least have taken you with me,” he kisses your forehead and you feel how tired you are now, the sweet gesture grounding you even more than sex ever could. 
“As if we could have done anything about my little problem at your dad’s,” you try once again to let it slide. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, content with your naked vulnerability in his presence. 
“I would’ve found a way,” he jokes and earns a slap to his chest but then his tone grows serious. He buries his nose in your hair, “Eres todo para mi. Eres mi vida, mi esposa hermosa, la madre de mi hijo (You’re everything to me. You’re my life, my beautiful wife, the mother of my child).”
“Javi,” you look up at him shyly from where your head rests. He smiles down at you but mirrors your tone to tease and says your name. 
“Hablo en serio (I’m serious). I would do anything for you, mamá,” he adds, “And for our bebé.”
“Even fetch me - I mean us - a snack?” You grin, glowing with fondness for him but feeling nearly overwhelmed by his words in your state of bliss. He knows how much you love him though, knows it especially by how you look at him right now. 
“Especially fetch you a snack,” he wraps his arms around you to hug you tightly, your belly bumping against his, “What does the queen of this household want?”
“A strawberry milkshake?” You suggest hesitantly as if to make the request optional, “If it isn’t too much trouble.”
“A strawberry milkshake!” He repeats enthusiastically and makes you laugh, making the way he detangles himself from you easier even if you want him to never leave your side again.
“Who knew that growing a baby came with having a househusband,” you say while he gets up from the couch and helps you to lie down comfortably. He puts a pillow under your knees and one behind your back. The couch’s mess will have to wait. 
“It’s the full Javier Peña experience,” he leans down over you for one last kiss before he pushes himself to stand up straight once more. He doesn’t look at you as he continues, has already turned his back. You watch the way his muscles flex as he heads for the kitchen, shirtless and only in his boxers, “And I plan on doing it forever, mi reina (my queen).”
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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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1d1195 · 5 months ago
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The Lottery I
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~3.7k words
From me: I thought I would close out 2024 with a mini-series. I'm hoping for shorter parts but I should be able to post on a regular basis (Mondays). You should see MANY similarities to my favorite show. I have been planning this one for over a year. I really hope you enjoy 💕
Warnings: angst (?) fluff
Summary: Small towns have the biggest romances and the best view of the moon.
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“I don’t know how you ended up there,” Bailey shook her head.
“Bails,” she laughed. “I Googled it. It’s cute.”
The little town was adorably cute. The kind of place where the Christmas-hating CEO female lead in the movie would fall head over heels for the place in a month because of the small-town charm. It was about thirty minutes outside the city but with traffic it could take up to an hour. It was quaint. The exact kind of place she could envision her little dream.
“Your house is good?” Bailey asked. She nodded, flipping the camera to show her the little place she found to live in. Two stories. But the second floor was small. A bedroom, a bathroom, and a small room for storage. Maybe in the right light it could be a small office, but it would be better holding all her books. The bottom floor was open. Living room, dining area, and a kitchen. Down the hall was another bathroom and her bedroom. Right now, it was filled with boxes and no clear markers for any of the rooms. Her furniture was misplaced—the table in the living room, the TV on top of it, the couch was near the kitchen, and the lamps were atop the counters in the kitchen.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.
Moving in was second to her priorities. So the boxes would stay, her clothes haphazardly falling out of boxes, the iron on top of the island in the kitchen to get the wrinkles out of her blouses. “Neighbors are good?”
“I’ve only met Edith and David. They’re about sixty-five years old and hilarious. Edith is insistent on having tea by the end of the week and David wants to set me up with his grandson.”
“I can’t imagine you outside the city,” Bailey sounded wistful.
“It’ll be good for me to be away from all the big lights. I missed the stars... and the moon,” her voice was filled with fondness. Like the moon was her old friend she hadn’t seen in a while.
“We could see the moon in the city,” Bailey reminded her.
It wasn’t just the moon, it was the stars, and silence that the city never allowed. “It’s not the same and you know it.”
“You know babe...” Bailey trailed off. “You look... happy.”
She was. Really happy. The kind of happiness that couldn’t be faked because she was supposed to be happy. The kind of happiness that would make anyone jealous. And why shouldn’t she be happy? She was young, basically fresh out of college, ready to start her own business, and do everything she wanted on her own.
“I am happy,” she nodded and looked at her best friend through FaceTime. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. Try not to let them be too mean to me. I’m... I’m good,” she promised. “This is good.”
“You know,” Bailey grinned and shook her head. “I think you’re right.”
*
She wore her lucky dress—the one that she is certain got her a scholarship—and chose a pair of flats over heels because in her quick self-tour of the town she noted the brick sidewalks were likely to take out her ankle. She made sure every single strand of her hair wasn’t out of place. She wanted this to be a good impression. All her books and shows told her that small towns were lovely, but she was an outsider. It was possible that they wouldn’t love a newcomer and so she didn’t want to make it seem like she was changing everything.
But since it was her first night in her new home, there was nothing to eat. Nor to cook with even if she wanted to. Maybe if she had a loaf of bread, she could find her toaster in one of the boxes. Moving on her own was tough but she was proud of herself. Another check she could mark on her to-do list.
Her first order of business was securing her business. However, that couldn’t be done on an empty stomach. She locked the door to the little home she now owned. The trim needed a coat of paint, and she desperately needed to buy a lawn mower. Some of the windows needed to be replaced. She tried opening one of them and nearly threw her back out. The bushes in front of the little porch needed to be trimmed or taken out altogether.
But it was home, and it was lovely. She was excited to do it on her own. It made her feel proud.
Her family was far away. Honestly, it was for the best. They thought it was a terrible idea for her to move, maybe because they couldn’t depend on her any longer. If she thought too long about it, she got upset. But this was good. She was doing what her grandma believed she could do. What her grandpa wanted her to do.
With a family far away, her place was filled with boxes. Hardly anything was unpacked. It was a miracle she found her lucky dress but perhaps that was why it was so lucky. With the distance between them, it was easier to ignore the group chat. Easier to not feel obligated to help her family.
They’re adults, honey. They’ll figure it out.
She hoped her grandma was right.
Her friends were still in the city. Completely shocked she left the hustle and bustle for a small-town place. Their lack of support or what they passed off as worry made her nervous all the same. How would it survive? But she researched the perfect place and took plenty of time setting up everything she needed so she was ready to go when she graduated.
The only thing she wished could be different, was that her grandparents got to see her.
*
The main part of town felt like a city. But way friendlier. People shouted in the middle of the road. Kids ran across the road to the school. There were very few cars but even the ones present parked illegally and the officer strolling the sidewalks didn’t pay any mind to it. It was adorable. It felt like she was in a Disney movie, and she wanted to sing.
The center green was being set up with seats and banners. People were on walkie-talkies directing more items about the area. The space was warm and cozy. Like where she could spend the day reading in the grass and have a picnic with herself or a friend.
God, she hoped she made some friends. It seemed possible. Everyone was so nice. They all knew each other. That was evident. It was so comforting, exactly the change she wanted and needed, and she prayed they wouldn’t hate her for trying to bring something new to their little place.
As her stomach reminded her once more of its presence and emptiness, she approached the diner on one side of the main street. Squished between the post office and a shoe store. Someone was exiting as she opened the door, so she gestured for them to exit before she proceeded. “Thank you, darling,” the man tipped his hat to her.
With one deep breath, she entered.
It was like she was the new girl at school. The second she crossed the threshold of the diner, everyone stared at her. There wasn’t a voice to be heard, the only sound coming from behind the counter in the kitchen. “Uh... hi,” she swallowed. Quietly, she made her way to the counter and situated herself at the end of it away from everyone else.
Sure, she wanted to be part of the community and wanted to be liked, but she didn’t want to force it. The place continued to be quiet, although the murmuring began. No doubt everyone whispered about her. “No newcomers lately, I guess,” she mumbled under her breath and pulled out her folder of paperwork to go over it again.
You’re going to crush it! Bailey’s message read. She smiled gratefully, feeling her heart slow. She was wearing her lucky dress. It was going to happen. She was going to be happy no matter what.
“Shit!” It was paired with the distinct sound of something shattering. She turned directly to the sound as did everyone else in the place and she was on her feet immediately. It wasn’t anything major, a coffee mug on the floor.
“Jesus, honey, watch it!” It was an older woman who scolded her husband with a light thwack on the arm.
“I didn’t mean to, Alice!”
“Harry!” Someone called.
“Jus’ a second,” the voice was from the back, low, almost like it didn’t want to be heard. He must have been cooking or something because there was a commotion in the back behind the kitchen door. She didn’t think much of it because she was worried that poor Alice and her husband were going to get hurt picking up the broken shards or slip in the mess of spilled coffee on the floor.
“I can help,” she offered and crouched near the older woman—Alice—as she struggled to grab the pieces. “Here,” she grabbed a rag off the counter even though she had never been there and it wasn’t her place to do so. Gently she pushed the broken pieces and coffee into a neat little pile sopping up the mess as best she could.
“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Alice chimed. “Thank you.”
“Happy to help,” she smiled politely.
“Did you just move here?” She asked. Perhaps that would satiate the whispering.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where are you living?”
“Oh... um... Oak Street,” she stammered. It probably didn’t help her newness that she stammered. But her new address was new; she was still getting used to it.
“Oh, Holliston’s place! It’s a lovely home,” someone called from across the room.
“Y’don’t have t’do that,” it was the same voice that called from the back but now right next to her.
“Oh...” Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. Did time seem to stop? That couldn’t be right. She wasn’t going to have a crush on the first guy she met on her first official day as a resident of the small town. “I don’t mind,” she said quickly looking up at him from her crouched position. “Happy to help and...” She stopped speaking again as he stared at her. His eyes were pretty, even if he looked grumpy. His mouth was set in a frown, and she noticed that once more everyone stopped speaking. “Sorry,” she said and stood, scooping the mess as best she could in her hands. Coffee dripped from the rag into the puddle at her feet. She could feel the splatter on her ankles, and she was nervous to look if she had ruined her shoes. It didn’t bother her, but she wasn’t sure she’d have time to head home and change before she went to the town hall.
Harry held out the tray for dirty dishes and she placed the rag, broken pieces of mug, and all into it. He dropped it on the counter about two spaces down from where her folder and purse remained. “Are you okay, ma’am?” She asked softly placing a gentle hand on her arm in a comforting kind of way.
“Alice, Ed, y’okay?” Harry—she presumed—was quiet. It almost rubbed her the wrong way that he repeated her, but he knew them, and she didn’t. So, she returned to her seat quietly after offering one more smile to Alice.
“All good, Harry,” Ed said in return.
Harry went back around the counter and fiddled with the coffee pot. He refilled a new mug and brought it over to Ed.  When he returned behind the counter he stood in front of her silently. Waiting. Not offering a word nor question.
Harry looked to be roughly her age. Handsome. If this was David’s grandson, she would have reconsidered his offer. But his scowl was to be desired. Made her uneasy. She wondered if this was how he always was or if it was something about her.
But she wanted to be liked. People generally didn’t dislike her. It would devastate her if he did. As grumpy as he seemed, she wasn’t going to shy away from her own personality. “Do y’want something?”
“What’s your favorite?” She asked glancing from the menu to him.
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a favorite.”
She blinked. He worked here. Did he own it? That would be crazy, he was so young. But she was young and about to own her business too. So who was she to judge his age? “How can you not have a favorite?”
“I like it all,” he shrugged.
“You seriously don’t have a favorite?”
“Since I own the diner,” he was explaining it like she was a toddler, “everything is good.”
“Well...” she took a deep breath. It wasn’t that she was one of those people who assumed everyone would like her, but it was... different to work for friendliness. Bailey told her she had the kind of face that would work wonders in sales. Everyone just opened up to her.
But not Harry. Harry was stoic as could be. It barely looked like he was breathing. Other than the irritation in his eyes, he had a really nice face. Smooth skin, angular jaw, and just pretty features that were probably wasted on someone so grumpy. But she could see something flicker in his eyes. Something that she wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to see which is why it was merely a flicker.
Was this grumpy man amused? By her?
“...Do you have a recommendation then?”
“Anything. It’s all good,” he was clearly over this exchange.
She thought she could get him to budge but it didn’t seem that way. This was the fast track to nowhere. Not the impression she wanted to make on her first official day in town. Sighing, she glanced at the specials board. “You have peach pancakes?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have white chocolate chips?”
Harry sighed, exasperated with the conversation, and she hadn’t even ordered her coffee yet. “Yup...” he was staring at her like this was going to kill him. Or he was going to kill her.
“Can I have one of each? Peaches and white chocolate chip?”
“What?” He seemed surprised. Which was interesting because surely it couldn’t have been crazy. Peaches and white chocolate chips had to be popular if he had them. He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?” She frowned.
“Because s’extra work t’make a whole batch of peachpancakes and chocolate chip. One or the other.”
Maybe it was his tone or her frustration. The nerves of heading to town hall after breakfast. The piss-poor impression she was making at the extremely local diner where everyone seemed to know Harry. Even though he was grumpy they still ate there. It was obvious this wasn’t their first day being there. They still called out for him when the mug shattered even though she was more than capable of helping.
But she didn’t want to take no for an answer. Maybe if he had placated her or smiled. Or if he just didn’t look at her like she was the bane of his existence she wouldn’t have pressed. “But... I don’t want one or the other. I want one of each.”
“Get ‘em mixed together or don’t have ‘em,” he shrugged.
“But if I get them mixed together, the peaches will sink to one side or slide off all together. The chocolate chips always sink to the bottom. So the ratio in each bite will be off. I’ve tried it before; it just doesn’t blend well.”
“If I make y’one peach and one white chocolate chip, then all m’ratios will be off. I’ll have t’purchase different quantities of peaches and chocolate chips.”
“That seems a little dramatic for one plate of—"
“S’my diner! Jus’ order what’s on the menu or order four pancakes.”
“That’s absurd! I doubt I’ll even eat one whole pancake!”
Harry swallowed hard, his jaw flexing tight. Briefly he looked at the ceiling and then back at her. His voice was quieter when he spoke. “Order what’s on the menu or don’t order at—"
“Fine! Two peach pancakes!”
Honestly, she has no idea why she was arguing in the first place. It was idiotic and childish but there was something about the grumpiness that was off-putting and made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was solely because he didn’t seem to like her, and she was trying really hard to fit in and he was the only person she had met so far that was close to her own age. If she could get him to like her, then maybe she wouldn’t be friendless and lonely.
With another large sigh (like it was painful for him to be standing near her) he rolled his eyes and headed to the back to make her breakfast. She wouldn’t be surprised if he poisoned them.
The diner was still quiet, and she could feel eyes flicking over to her repeatedly, their gazes heating her up with knowledge she was being watched. To keep her cool, she continued flipping through her paperwork folder and scrolled on her phone.
About ten minutes later, Harry returned holding her plate. It was practically silent again. The show that ensued was not forgotten by the other customers. Harry failed to hide his interest in her paperwork and failed to hide the fact he was reading whatever was in front of her. It didn’t bother her, honestly. She wanted to be an open book. Especially in a small town and especially with the guy that looked beyond irritated with her.
Trying again was insanity. But she was nothing if not one for perseverance. “Do you know what time the town hall opens? I tried to find a time online but—"
Harry snorted. “Town Hall doesn’t do online. S’whenever Sutton gets there t’unlock.”
She blinked. Small towns. “When’s that?”
“Usually before nine-thirty.”
“Usually?”
Harry shrugged, placing the plate in front of her. She could smell cinnamon and maple. Of course, the peaches were starting to caramelize as well and so it really looked utterly delicious. “Sometimes he forgets his alarm. Then s’before ten-thirty.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Alright,” she nodded. “Hey,” she called quietly as Harry turned to leave. “Do you do tabs? I’m probably going to be here every morning before work. It’s fine if you don’t. Just... figured it would easier.”
Did it get even quieter? Harry had a way with sighing. Heavily. Like talking to her and thinking were the two greatest and hardest tasks he’d ever been given in his life. Her eyes quickly darted around the place. There were enough tables to seat about twenty people plus five seats at the counter. It was busy—not crowded or full, but busy. It was just after the morning commute group had left; she had to imagine. The hustle of the nine-to-five crowd was long gone. “Sure,” he shook his head. “Every Friday.”
She was certain she didn’t imagine it that time. The entire place was silent for another ten seconds before the low murmur picked up again.
“Okay, thank you. I just... moved into town and I had no food at my house.”
“Whose house?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Whose house did y’buy?”
“Oh... uh... the Holliston’s?” Was that the name someone said a few moments ago? It had to be because no one corrected her, and it was apparent everyone was listening to her to talk to Harry.
“Nice couple,” she supposed she got it right then. “Do you want coffee?” He asked.
Was this him warming up to her? It was interesting. It wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t arguing. Which she liked. Although arguing with him was kind of... fun in its own way. But she needed a friend before she argued with him for hours on end.
“Oh, yes,” she nodded quickly. “Please. Thank you.” Was it hot in there? Harry was attractive—even if he was grumpy. A sour face usually turned her off immediately. But with Harry... it didn’t seem so grumpy anymore. Especially now that he stopped arguing with her. The crease between his eyebrows disappeared. His frown turned to a more neutral expression. She swore that flicker of amusement was back again. “This is a really cute town,” she remarked.
Harry ignored the comment as he poured her a mug of steaming coffee and placed a little plate of cream and sugar packets beside it. “What brings y’here?” He asked. She did hear his skepticism like maybe he was going to kick her out before she unpacked if she wasn’t good enough for the clique-y village.
“Oh,” she swallowed. “I’m hoping to open a book shop.”
Harry tilted his head at her, surprise all over his face and she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why that would be. “Oh?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded. Approval? Was she in the club? “Alright, well... welcome, I guess. Let me know if y’need help with the water at y’house. It always gave the Holliston’s trouble in the winter, and I’d have t’go over and fix it. Don’t want y’pipes t’freeze.”
That was it. He walked away. She watched the grumpy, attractive man tend to the tables, cleaning, and serving all by himself. The others were patient. There was no rushing to get to work like it was Starbucks and everyone quietly waited their turn. There wasn’t a lot of small talk with Harry, but people smiled at him. Like they knew him from the time he was a baby. Maybe they did.
She hoped he would warm up to her. It would be nice to have a friend like him.
Turning to her breakfast, she cut into both pancakes stacked on top of one another, brought a bite of the two little pieces to her mouth after drowning it in enough maple syrup to make the man look at her suspiciously from across the room.
There was no way someone was that concerned about ratios of one patron. He could be grumpy all he wanted, but Harry was dramatic too. (Even if it was way more syrup than she needed, and he probably had a point in worrying about syrup—especially if she was going to be there every day.)
But as the bite hit her tastebuds, she had to look down and see it for herself.
One pancake was peach and the other was white chocolate chip.
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lydiasfalling · 3 months ago
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PINS AND NEEDLES
percy jackson x athena!reader
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➸✧˖*°࿐ taglist : open!
˗ˋˏ warnings : use of y/n, post breakup, angst, possible part two??? ˎˊ-
‧₊˚✧ lydia’s yap fest ! ✧˚₊‧
post breakup yearning? sign me up. also i’ve never ever written athena reader cause it feels too much like writing myself and i don’t want to project but i hope u guys enjoy!!! (unedited!)
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it had been exactly three weeks, two days, and six hours since you and percy jackson had broken up. now, while it pained you to admit, you missed him. your friends would tell you that you couldn’t miss him. not when you had left him the way you did. truth is, life as a demigod was hard. having no guarantees that you would even be alive tomorrow was a hard pill to swallow. it had gotten to a point where it felt wrong to give percy another weight on his back. he was already under the pressure of saving the world, he didn’t need a relationship to balance on it.
first came the arguing. it had become a staple for the recent era of your relationship. you would bring up the idea of taking a break, which he would turn down. he refused to hear you out whatsoever. then came the silent treatment. he couldn’t stand how every time you’d spoken, you would flip it back to the topic of breaking up. he thought better to just ignore the problem all together. finally, came the blow up. you two had found a rare moment of peace amongst the war. his fingers raked through your wet hair as you laid on his lap. you had again decided to bring up the topic again. the resulted in the fight. breaking up wasn’t easy, but something you saw necessary.
now, you paced in your cabin. these past few weeks had been a personal tartarus for you ( and you assumed percy, or he-who-shall-not-be-named ). every little thing reminded you of him. the smell of the lake you’d spend hours swimming in. the fields you would run through hand-in-hand. the bed you would spend hours having—well, you get the point. every corner held a memory. this realization made you want to rip your scalp clean off.
however, no matter how much you would deny it, you were still hopelessly in-love with perseus jackson. watching him from a far made you realize just how lucky you had been to call him yours. the beauty of his soul was one you wish could be captured and put in a jar for everyone to admire. the selfish part of you wanted that jar on your nightstand. you decided now was the time. you would finally leave the comfort of your cabin and venture into the camp. your siblings were sure that you were aware how many times percy had asked them about you. he told them to make sure you got proper care since he couldn’t be the one to do so. you knew he’d be happy to see you getting dressed to leave.
“y/n? you coming?” your sister had asked you. it was just about to be lunch.
“mhm. give me one moment.” the mirror showed you what you had dread seeing. heavy purple bags laid under your eyes. your cheeks seemed hollow. people would argue that you couldn’t be sad since you broke up with him, but they didn’t understand. you and percy were—by definition—joined at the hip. you did everything together. now the color had been drained out of usually exciting things.
“any day now.” you joined your sister at the doorframe, stepping out into the sun. the aroma of camp consumed your senses, putting you at a momentary state of ease. this ended soon as you felt the formalist presence of a certain brunette boy. his aura was contagious. you could feel him radiating half way across the world. however, he was unusually dull. turning around, you finally came face to face with percy.
“i. . . uh. . . hi, ang—y/n. didn’t see ya there.” even in the awkward atmosphere, he still managed to bring your shoulders down and your brows to relax.
“mhm. . .” you didn’t truly speak, scared of what would leave your mouth. you quickly turned back around and began to shuffle away. percy hand caught your wrist in record time.
“can we, ya know, talk? i don’t think i got to say my piece when everything went down.” he kept his hand on your skin, goosebumps trailing up your arm at the feeling. you ripped you arm away as if the touch had burned you.
“now’s not a great time.”
“okay, well, when is a good time?” he shifted on his heels
“sometime. . . other. . . than now?” you said, though it sounded more like a question to both of you.
“what happened?” he questioned, an exasperated look coming over his features.
“what?” you asked.
“to us! what happened to us? i mean. . .fuck, y/n. i was in love with you. scratch that. i am in love with you. and im trying really, really hard to respect your decision. but how can i? how can i walk past you every single day knowing im so beyond in love with you that i can’t even function? i cant even think about battle anymore. it’s you. you occupy every thought from the moment i wake up to the moment i fall to sleep. it’s painful.”
“it’s for the best.” you whispered.
“bullshit! i think you’re just scared!” his volume increased, causing other campers to turn in your direction.
“lower your voice, percy.” you smiled at everyone, hoping they would stop listening. “like i said, this really isn’t a good time.” you left soon after those words left your mouth, not allowing him any time to protest.
“y/n!” he called after you. you simply pretended not to hear it as you re-entered your cabin, slamming the door behind you.
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maddie-sometimes-maggie · 8 days ago
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Oh my…it’s already been 6 months since I had FFS. I think it’s time for “that” post. The before and after results. This is a long one…
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In late October 2024 I had Facial Feminization Surgery. I’ve tried to be transparent (ha) here that I’ve had this surgery. Unfortunately, the reality is that many of us may need to get procedures like this to feel comfortable with our bodies. Is it necessary for everyone? No, you can transition to whatever makes YOU comfortable and at peace with your body. For me, FFS is what I needed to help me achieve that. I worked really really hard to get this surgery and I want to share my experience.
So as a background, I began medically transitioning at 31, and inherited my family’s very masculine facial structures. AMAB or AFAB, most in my blood family have strong masculine features and hormonal imbalances. Longterm T exposure didn’t help me at all either. Looking back at old pictures before my FFS is really hard now. It’s hard to believe that is ME.
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I feel it is important to share the magic that FFS can accomplish. E is amazing but it can’t change bones all that much. I believe it is really important to compare our changes with everything over time in our journeys. Many of these photos before FFS were during my first year medically transitioning. No matter what hairstyles or makeup techniques I tried, nothing could hide the insecurities that FFS would eventually take away. For a while I tried to convince myself I didn’t need surgeries…but I knew I’d never be happy without it. I jumped at the opportunity to get it when I found out my insurance covered it.
Then came October. It was a brutal recovery. I have a very low tolerance to pain. However, I never felt any of this was impossible and I was very much supported by my doctors. The recovery was challenging for other reasons too. It limited my ability to eat for a bit and I was really uncomfortable for a couple weeks. I had a constant feeling of disorientation during the first week as my vision is pretty bad and without being able to put my contacts in I was practically blind. The nausea also was debilitating at times. This isn’t what happens to everyone but this is what experienced.
My jaw was also severely limited. It was mostly because of the inside the mouth incision to contour the chin and jaw. I could barely open my mouth. By the end of November I could eat sushi by squishing it with a spoon. By late December I could eat small sandwiches and most of my mobility returned. The swelling also took a while to go down. I’d say by February, four months later, I felt that most of the swelling had disappeared or was on its way out. Today, some swelling remains in my chin and my nose.
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The liberation and freedom of expression FFS gave to a face like mine has been truly life saving. My style has changed rather dramatically. My brows are now lifted and I no longer make them higher, in fact I just keep them clean, thin them a little, and highlight in tinted gel and maybe add a little red to them. I also can finally do eye shadow, which is was one of my most anticipated aspects of this surgery. I also just feel liberated from my parents. I had a really rough upbringing and no longer being defined by my father’s forehead or my mother’s chin brings me so much peace.
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Not pictured is my presence. I’ve heard countless people tell me that I’m happier, more comfortable, and more outgoing than I was before my surgery. I used to calculate my every move so people wouldn’t see my brow bone or an unflattering masculine angle. I don’t worry at all about that anymore. I truly am free. I am just me regardless of the angle. People see this in public too. I’m consistently given the male gaze or they try to make conversation with me. I catch women looking at my hair and outfits all the time. I pass very well.
So now I sit here at six months. And I’m absolutely thrilled with my results. If you are on the fence, and it’s accessible to you, I highly recommend to get FFS if it will help you achieve greater peace and comfort with your mind and body. I went to a surgeon in NYC, and would be happy to share the details if you’d like. I also would be able to answer questions about the whole process of getting and recovering from FFS. I hope this has been helpful to you!
This is my 6 month result:
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artytaeh · 10 months ago
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honeymoon!Mattheo? Also I'm so obsessed with your pages aesthetic, especially since I've been on this app for like 3 years and just changed my profile picture... anyways adore you and your writing <3
this is so sweet! i melt everytime i reread this rq, i swear. tysm for reading my posts and accompanying my writing, also for requesting 🌷 honeymoon!theo was a silly shower thought— i didn't plan to do a version of it. however, since you're asking, i just can't say no; so i hope that you like it, love! ♡
warnings: includes smut, so obviously it's advised for +18 readers; read at your own risk. brief mentions of trauma from being the son of bellatrix lestrange + the dark lord.
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honeymoon!mattheo who felt like these next two weeks outside england, just the two of you, were like a blessing after your wedding day— don't get me wrong, mattheo riddle feels like the luckiest motherfucker to have been the one to marry you, the man who put that ring on your finger and to see you walking down the aisle to him. even so, fucking hell, how can a celebration for your marriage be so, so exhausting for the two of you? mattheo himself begged you to take off those heels; it was paining him to see you in them after so many hours, really!
honeymoon!mattheo who was ecstatic at the idea of going out of the country with you, of all people. sure, he's been out of england: he studied at hogwarts, which is in scotland; italy too, courtesy of theodore's invitations to spend a few weeks or most of the summer break at his family's estate; that one time that draco bragged about his wealth and took all of his friends to spend weekends or some days somewhere through europe. but travelling with you? that's different. this isn't a vacation with the boys; he's on his way to enjoy two paradisical weeks with the love of his life— just. the. two. of you.
honeymoon!mattheo who planned these vacations with you — where do you wanna go? how long would you like to stay? would you rather somewhere to rest and do nothing, or travelling around? truthfully, mattheo had his own preferences; as fun as it is to explore new places and unraveling different cultures, mattheo was a bit (a lot more) into seeing you in bikini most of the day. visiting a city or some nearby mexican tourist attraction is totally fine by him; a few were chosen by the two of you during a rainy day, cuddling on the sofa as you and him daydream about the sound of waves, sunny days and heat tanning your skins. with a laptop in front of you, mattheo checklists and makes notes of whatever was decided that day.
honeymoon!mattheo who jumps straight to the bed as soon as you arrive to the hotel's bedroom. soon, strong arms pull you close to him; mattheo spends some minutes like this with you, cuddling and feeling you close, nevermind how warm it is in mexico during this time of the year, not giving a flying fuck if you two are sweaty. mattheo riddle needs to rest after so many bloody hours inside a plane, and dealing with the airport's burocracy. fuck, there's a fucking spell for everything in the wizarding world, how come no one found a better way to travel between two continents already?!
honeymoon!mattheo who has his arm around your waist at all times. walking together? mattheo is there, hugging your waist, matching his usual long strides to your calmer pace, making sure that you're the one leading the speed of your walk. taking a stroll on a nearby city or exploring the streets? mattheo riddle won't unwrap his arm from your waist, fingers gently tracing the curve of your side, as you two comment about the beautiful streets you walk by and how good all of these restaurants smell. and, well, if his arm becomes bothersome because of the heat, mattheo is happy to hold your hand— as soon as it becomes sweaty, mattheo himself moves to your other side, to take your other hand in his, nevermind if he has to repeat this ritual every five minutes.
honeymoon!mattheo who drags you to play on the beach with him! this man will proudly buy a kid's kit for himself: a set with beach toys, including a bucket, shovels and other stuff to build castles on the damp sand. obviously, the set is green, if there's that color option— hey, all of those years as a slytherin, wearing a green tie on a daily basis, got him a little attached to the color, alright?!
honeymoon!mattheo who looks like a man preparing himself to go to war, as you patiently massage the sunscreen on his face, warm shoulders and back, along with the rest of his body; you don't trust your husband to apply the sunscreen correctly, since mattheo is all too impatient to go have fun. he does the same to you, of course; pulling you to his lap, big hands making sure that your smooth thighs are protected by the sunscreen— maybe a little too much, since you grow suspicious that mattheo caresses your thighs for a moment longer than necessary. hey, he's a man in love; can't a husband appreciate his wife's beautiful body?!
honeymoon!mattheo who lowkey tries to learn how to speak spanish, or at least simple phrases; thank you, hello, please, and perhaps being a little more observant to catch a curse word or two. god forbid mattheo catches on how to compliment you— now, each time you show your outfit, smile or do something as simple as existing near mattheo riddle, he grins and dramatically pronounces: 'guapissima! bonita, muy bonita.' — sneaking a squeeze on your bottom, pressing your body closer to his. you'd be at least a little annoyed, if mattheo's bambi eyes weren't so full of love for you. you know he means every single praise that rolls out of his mouth.
honeymoon!mattheo who sleeps a little more peacefully now, in mexico, far away from london and the looming notion of his ancestry. here, a continent away from his lunatic of a mother, oceans away from the knowledge of being the dark lord's son, mattheo riddle relaxes. you're married now; away from the chaos. during your wedding day, mattheo was terrified that something would tarnish this happiness with you. being physically away from all of that, on a country where no one blinks an eye at the surname riddle, mattheo is able to relax and let go of the overthinking habit he created since childhood. mattheo riddle isn't a cursed child anymore— at least not here with you.
honeymoon!mattheo who buys a lot of souvenirs. at least for theodore, he gets something that he knows that his best friend would find funny too; perhaps one or two things for his slytherin friends. then a lot of bracelets, or whatever the fuck you happen to stare for a few seconds. sundresses become part of your wardrobe, too, since mattheo argues that is sinful to not have you wearing such flattering clothes, choosing colors that you like the most, and compliment you the best.
🗯️ : matt, this is the third dress you're about to buy for me. i already have enough!
m : nonsense. you don't have any on this color, do you? besides, it's fancy to say 'hey, see this dress? my husband got it for me from mexico'; i'm helping you to brag, woman!
honeymoon!mattheo who hugs you from behind in the pool, trailing kisses from your left shoulder, cheek, neck, shoulder blades, until he does the same to the other side. he's not even attempting to convince you to lustful things— mattheo is just so in love with you. should an older couple or bitter tourists side-eye any of you, mattheo will kiss your cheek for a moment longer, staring menacingly to whoever is nosy enough to notice him and his wife. mattheo riddle, as always, doesn't even have to open his mouth; his serious expression and dark eyes being enough of a warning. as soon as they avert their gaze, mattheo goes back to the task at hand: kissing every inch of you with that silly little smile of his.
honeymoon!mattheo who takes full advantage of the jacuzzi on your bedroom. you should have expected it, as soon as dark eyes shine with mischief, a wolfish grin on his lips as mattheo riddle inevitably plans ahead— hours later, you'll find out exactly what was going through that devilish mind of his.
honeymoon!mattheo who is safe to say that fully enjoyed the warm water at night— calloused hands placed on your hips, thumbs brushing soothing circles on your hipbones as mattheo takes in the sight of you, naked on top of him, guiding your movements as you bounce on his length. mattheo fights the urge to tilt his head back and close his eyes, wanting to drown himself in the sensation of you so tight, so warm and wet around him— but then, he'd lose the bewitching vision of you, so mattheo bites his lip while his hands move lower and lower, greedily squeezing your bottom, hands full of the smooth, soft skin. mattheo watches you so intensely, that you're almost shy under his gaze; his strong arms embrace you so close to him, lips bruising the skin of your neck, collarbone, chest (and for a moment, you wonder if wearing a bikini would be safe tomorrow, giving each reddening, becoming purple hickey left on you) as he whispers against your wet skin. 'so pretty— such a good girl for me, aren't you? riding your husband so, so well. so wet and tight for me, huh? moan for me, baby. let me hear all of your pretty moans, hm?'
honeymoon!mattheo who is so gentle with you afterwards. without even having to ask, mattheo carried you back to the bedroom, patting your body with gentle movements so that the towel absorbs the water from your body, cooing at you. despite your tired demeanor, sore legs recovering on the comfortable mattress— mattheo riddle is all too energetic and blissfully satisfied, massaging your smooth skin with a body cream of yours; and trust me, it takes everything within him to not tease you, holding back any 'fun' comments about you after three rounds that got you absolutely wrecked.
honeymoon!mattheo who dedicated a part of these few days to read one of your favorite books. you see, mattheo riddle isn't really one to take reading as a hobby; at most, mattheo would have fun spending the afternoon at some bookstores to read bd, mainly about superheroes, or the ones that blaise brought from school breaks to lend to him. apart from that, mattheo's hobbies mostly revolve around drawing or listening to music— but he's making an effort for you, alright?! he is! look, he read five pages today, while you were tanning!
honeymoon!mattheo who brought a camera with him for the sole purpose to have photos with you during these weeks; as much as he adores all of your wedding photos, either with you, his best friends and other guests— this honeymoon with you must have physical evidence, not wanting to depend on his memory alone. mattheo plans to show most of them (*cough* the appropriate ones) to your children, if you ever have kids together, that is. the camera and him are present at the same place, at all times; like symbiosis, mattheo has the camera by his side to never lose the opportunity of a good photo of you.
photos of you while you're sleeping, dressing up or changing clothes, while you're relaxing on a chair near the pool to tan, swimming, at night with a flower tucked on your hair— one that mattheo picked up for you and fixed behind your ear. mattheo riddle will come back home with enough photos to decorate a wall. there's photos of you two together, too; silly selfies with you, some of them while you're sleeping by his side or on his chest, others blissfully taken by other tourists who offered such a favor. mattheo loves every single one of them.
honeymoon!mattheo who discovered that breakfast could be delivered in bedroom, four days after waking up a little earlier to shower, dress up and go downstairs to have the first meal of the day. ever since mattheo discovered such a wonder, never again— fuck that. he's having breakfast on the bed with you, requesting the staff to put an extra portion of your favorite fruits, which he'd then feed to you while the two of you are lazying on the bed after a shower, talking about whatever.
honeymoon!mattheo who suddenly doesn't hate that much anymore. at hogwarts, first years were a headache; little tiny humans that mattheo had to be careful to not bump against, or else they'd fall to the floor and god forbid professor mcgonagall saw it, should anyone accuse him of bullying. first years were also troublesome at the bloody hogwarts' train, running around like hipper active insects— however, this one little boy that came running up to you, giving you a flower? mattheo riddle couldn't help but smile, a smug grin on his lips as he crouches down:
m : hey, little dude— this beautiful woman is taken. hasn't your mother told you that flirting with a married woman is wrong? the husband might get you in trouble, you know.
honeymoon!mattheo who would complain a little less about the kids running around or simply existing around the hotel. there was this one little girl he saw at the pool, while you were getting drinks; curly hair, soft cheeks that remind him of your beautiful face— mattheo riddle is a weak man, and ever since then... baby fever. suddenly, the idea of a tiny human that is the perfect mixture of you and him, doesn't sound so scary anymore. i mean, if you and him ever had a baby, it'd be the most beautiful kid to exist; mattheo reasons that not having such a blessed child would be illegal, a heartbreaking loss to this world! (correction: a small sized demon that inherits mattheo riddle's troublemaker nature, and your charm that'll get them out of trouble ever. single. time.)
honeymoon!mattheo who tries at least once every single drink and cocktail at the bar. and more than that, makes you try them with him, which becomes a game of creating a tier list of the whole menu. mattheo will get you the colorful ones, being aware of your taste— and should you dislike alcoholic drinks, well, mattheo is a man that is unknowingly considerate, making sure to taste the drink first (so that he's sure that it tastes good, according to your preferences, of course), before giving it to you. lowkey, mattheo riddle who becomes a bit obsessed with those drinks straight from the coconuts— he might have like, seven photos of that, some of them being selfies with you.
honeymoon!mattheo who takes you dancing. hands on your hips, feeling as you sway them, gripping at them each time that mattheo riddle has to take a deep breath to not get a hard-on in the middle of the dancefloor. if possible, he'll learn how to dance the bachata with you— be it by a free class at the hotel or some bar, or even just by staring at an experienced couple dancing with ease. mattheo would be so happy to dance with you, twirling you around and pulling you closer to him, your noses brushing as mattheo looks at you with such intensity; the love of his life, this goddess in his arms. physically can't listen to one of those latino songs without immediately pulling you to dance a little with him; fuck the stares that you might receive.
honeymoon!mattheo who wants to live right here, at mexico.
m : fuck england, let's ditch london.
🗯️ : mattheo, darling, we can't do that.
m : why not?! here's the best— no rain, no people bothering us. why can't we just fuck and chill every day like we do here?
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🌿 ’
౨ৎ spend the summer of a lifetime with me ♡ ͡
let me take you to the place of my dreams . . .
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🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.
— ever since i posted my masterlist i've been receiving some requests; i didn't expect so many so soon! tysm for reading and requesting to my blog; i'll do my best to write and post each of them asap. ♡
the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷
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sturniqlo · 11 months ago
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TRY AGAIN- CHRIS STURN
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summary: Chris goes to Y/n's apartment without her knowledge to try and win her back
cw: angst, cursing, slight fluff
masterlist | read part 1 here
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It's been six months since Y/n broke up with Chris. She's hung out with both Matt and Nick here and there and it always seems like nothing has changed. A lot has happened over the past six months. She stayed with her best friend for the first month while she tried to recover from everything, and find the perfect apartment for herself.
At the end of the first month, she signed the lease.
Her new apartment is perfect. It has open living room with easy access to the kitchen. She loved that her apartment had many windows letting the natural sunlight come in. Her bedroom was something she loved. Back at the triplets house, she couldn't decorate her bedroom the way she wanted to. Considering the fact she had to take in Chris' interests into consideration.
Over this period of time, she missed Chris although she tried to deny her thoughts, she couldn't. When she was unpacking her car (she had left mostly everything in there until she found an apartment) she had found that a hoodie of Chris' she might've accidentally grabbed.
The moment she saw her now apartment she knew it was the one. The bathroom was absolutely beautiful which she found weird. When Matt and Nick came over to her apartment for the first time, they were shocked. The apartment was so her. They both helped her settle some things in. They went shopping for home appliances like decor, pots and pans, furniture, anything you could think of, they were there.
Chris knew that his brothers were hanging out with his ex girlfriend. He felt jealous, angry, upset. For the first few months he rarely spoke to his brothers. They tried to make an effort to hang out with him as much as possible, but he rarely let it happen. When they filmed their videos he would lock his feelings away and be as normal as possible.
The public still hadn't known that they were broken up, considering the fact that they never really posted about their relationship to avoid any hate or unnecessary rumors to spread around. They still followed each other, so the fans didn't think anything was wrong.
Y/n still continued to post on her socials, while Chris would post once every few weeks. He made an effort to get his license when he visited back home. He bought a car and tried to flip his life back the right way. He tried to talk to his brothers more. He tried to post more. He tried to contact Y/n but failed to do so because he always deleted his written out message, always closed out the phone app that was opened to her contact. Always backed out from asking Matt her new address.
Chris knew she had gotten a new apartment from her apartment tour video on youtube. He always caught himself up on anything she did. There was many speculations when that video came out but she quickly shut down the rumors by saying she just wanted her own place to continue to grow as her own person.
However, it wasn't until one day that Chris grew the courage to ask Matt the one question he always wanted to. "Hey, Matt?" He says, opening the fridge to get a pepsi. "Yea?" Matt says from washing his hands in the kitchen sink. "Can you give me Y/n's address, please." He says shyly. "And why exactly would I do that?" He says, drying his hands on his pants.
"I want to see her, and explain myself. I think I'm ready." Chris says, tapping his fingers against the table. A nervous habit he has. "What makes you think she's ready? Do you think she even wants to talk to you?" Matt knows Y/n has been wanting to reach out to Chris. He just wants to see that Chris is willing to do it himself.
A couple of weeks ago when Y/n mentioned to Matt that she was willing to talk to Chris, she gave him permission to give Chris her address if he ever asked. Also wanting to see if he would make the effort to. "I would hope she wants to. It's been quite some time. Has she.. told you something?"
"She's told me something, yes." Matt nods. Chris' heart flutters, knowing that she's probably ready to see him again, and possibly give him another chance. If she didn't want to give him another chance he would be bummed out but he'd understand.
"Is she ready?" Matt nods his to Chris' question. Matt grabs Chris' phone off the counter and unlocks it with his own face and inputs Y/n's address into the maps app. "Here, go talk to her." He hands the phone back to Chris. "Thanks. I'll be back." He snatches the keys from the table and runs to the garage. Chris looks down at his phone and realizes it's only a 10 minute drive.
Ten minutes. She's been ten minutes away from him this whole time.
Pulling up to her apartment complex. His hands start to sweat. He texts Matt and asks which buzzer is hers and which apartment floor and number is hers. He replies fairly quickly. Back at home, Matt runs to Nick's room. "It's time." He says out of breath. "He went?" Nick asks as he stops blowing his nose. "Yes." Nick had cancelled his plans with Y/n because he woke up with a cold. "Let's only hope."
The boys had hated seeing how their brother had been lately and how their friend had lost some of herself.
Chris presses her buzzer and it takes about two minutes for her to buzz open the door. Going to her floor and her door he takes a minute to himself before he knocks. "Hey, Nick. I thought you-" Her words were cut off once she saw who it really was. "Chris? What are you doing here?" She's taken aback. "I- I want to talk." He stumbles over his words. "If that's okay with you? I can leave if you want me to." He rambles.
"No, we can talk. Come in." She opens the door fully and he takes in her appearance as he walk in. She's wearing one of his favorite outfits she always wore when they went out just the two of them. "I like it. Your apartment, it's very you." He breaks the awkward silence. "Thanks, do you want anything to drink?"
"Do you have pepsi?" He asks, although he had one just before coming here. "I think so." Y/n turns on her heels and walks towards her fridge. She can't help but try to suppress her smile by biting down on her bottom lip. A habit of hers. She rummages through the fridge and finds her second to last pepsi. Over the years, she also grew an addiction to pepsi thanks to Chris.
"Here you go." She closes the fridge to turn to him when she finds him admiring the view from the high rise. "Oh, thanks." He turns back. "So," "So," They both say at the same time. "How have you been?" Chris asks as he opens the can. "I've been good, yeah. I just arrived from visiting my dad back home in Chicago."
Before starting high school, she was born and raised in the city of Chicago. But, when she bagan middle school her parents weren't the same anymore. So, when their divorce was finalized her mom packed herself, Y/n and her two little siblings and moved to Massachusetts. And that's where she met the triplets on her first day of Freshman year.
When Y/n turned eighteen, she traveled many time to Chicago to visit her dad for up to a month. Her siblings were a bit jealous so they begged their mom if they were able to tag along with Y/n. "Really? How was that?" Chris asks. "It was fun, I brought Maise and Freddy along. They were here two weeks before our trip and stayed here after we came back. They left a couple of hours ago." She hops on the counter spot next to Chris while he stays standing.
"How have you been?" She asks, playing with her fingers in her lap. "I've been good, too. I got my license when I went back home, finally. Bought a car, and that's pretty much it." Y/n gasps. "Really? That's cool. You're finally able to drive yourself around without the guys tagging along." Chris nods. "It's so much better, should've gotten it sooner." They both laugh. He eventually hops on the counter next to her. With her permission.
There's a beat of silence, their thighs are touching. Y/n bites the bullet and leans her head against his shoulder. Something she almost always did. Chris automatically melts into her touch and leans his head against hers. They stay like that for a while. Their hands eventually end up in one another's hold.
Chris is the first to break the silence. "M' sorry." Y/n can't help but tear up. "No, I'm sorry. If I hadn't broken up with you we wouldn't have been in this situation." Chris furrows his eyebrows and lifts his head off of her head and she lifts her head off of his shoulder. He stares at her teary eyes as he begins to speak. "You had no other choice, baby. I was fucking- gosh, I was horrible the last weeks of our relationship."
Chris hops off the counter and stands between her legs, bringing both of her hands up to his chest. "Chris," She begins. "No, listen to me, please." He cuts her off. "I messed up. I know I did." His voice begins to quiver and he begins to tear up, making more tears spill out of her eyes. "I was horrible at communicating how I was feeling. How everything I was going through put too much on my plate."
"And you know I didn't mean any I said to you that day, right? I didn't mean a single word. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. You didn't waste none of my time. None of it." He wipes the tears that are falling from her eyes to her cheeks while he is in the same situation. "I also hope you know I didn't mean anything I said to you too." She says and he nods.
"Y/n, baby, I would do anything that will give me the privilege to be able to call you mine again. Anything." He takes her hands back in his hold. "Really?" She says. "Yes, baby." Chris smiles and kisses her hands. "Do you promise to always tell me how you're feeling?" He nods. "Yes, all the time."
"Can I be your boyfriend again?" He says shyly. "Please." She nods. He wastes no time in smashing his lips against hers. "I love you." He mumbles against her lips. "I never stopped loving you."
A couple of hours have passed by, the sun set many hours ago and it was now nearing two in the morning. Chris was staying the night. As the movie played in front of them. Both Chris and Y/n get a message. Y/n picks her phone off of the coffee table and so does Chris.
It's from Nick, which he wrote in the group chat all four of you have together.
nick
it's 2 am chris isn't home yet i'm guessing everything went well?
matt
can someone respond so i can sleep soundly pls?
chris
if you're asking if we're back together, yes we are
nick
thank fuck
matt
goodnight everyone💤
y/n
haha i'll see you guys tomorrow!!
nick
bring me more tissue
"I'm guessing they were waiting for this?" Chris asks. "Guess so." Y/n turns her phone off and hugs Chris as if he'll disappear. "I love you." He says, kissing her head. "I love you." She replies.
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itsrlymine · 3 months ago
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hey baby!!! hope youre having a lovely day. I absolutely adore ur account, even though ive been into spirituality for a long time, i finally understood manifestation in my own way in december 2024 when i found ur account while browsing tumblr 😭😭😭😭
ur posts have been such a massive help, there is no way i could describe it oml, i want u to know that you were someone who helped me so much with everything. recently, ive encountered resistances, and obviously, theyre gone now, and in a way, i (usually) came across a particular post as a reminder to myself that manifestation is as simple as drinking water. since i understood manifestation in my way thanks to you, ive realised that the playlist (which i left in mid-2023) with the audios that supposedly didnt work, only didnt work because i doubted myself so much and was being SO negative. clearly, im using a different one now, and ive also gone through details of my life this 2025 (in a doc) because i absolutely adore writing, however, everything has been happening so fast and its still hard to accept that everything is so real, but it really is!!! things as unreal as having an identical feature of someone in my face, an aura, body changes, environment, moving, making 80% of my classmates leave and new ones coming (lol), parties, rich suitors and flings, among many other things ive manifested. cause im "changing" my mindset, i found that i like saturation, and for fun, i started doing it to get ("") curls in my hair from birth, i wanted it to take a week bc i dont like when everything happens instantly for some reason: now guess whos got super curly hair now. i also changed its natural colour, now the blonde stands out loads. ngl, im still some insecure abt specific things, but then i remember some of ur quotes and i immediately change my perception, the "nothing is hard, nothing is difficult, its just done" made a HARDDD click on my mind, being so frrr.
anyway, youve been a source of trust and deep learning for me, though it sounds weird, i just want to thank u so damn fucking much, my love!!! i love your posts forever, thank u<3 sending love
🇧🇷
omgg hey babe!!! i'm so happy that my page has been able to be of some help to you my love. exactly!!!!! nothing is hard, nothing is difficult, it's just done!! seriously there's nothing impossible or hard. there's so many things we can "bring" into our experience ans we need to take advantage of that. keep updating us my love, i'm so happy for youuuu.
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judesmoonbeauty · 5 months ago
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𝕁𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕁𝕒𝕫𝕫𝕒'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙
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This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.
— Would people say it’s foolish to chase a promise that won’t come true?
Poorly Dressed Man: Jude Jazza! It’s all - it’s all your fault!
Jude: I ain’t the one who broke the contract.
Jude: If ya wanna file a lawsuit yer sure to lose, ‘n starve to death, then be my guest.
Poorly Dressed Man: You demon! Die!
Jude: Ellis.
Ellis: Yep.
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Poorly Dressed Man: Gah!
— Would people call following a twisted sense of justice evil?
Jude: …Ha. The full moon’s annoyin’.
The person with amethyst eyes listlessly lit a cigarette.
The white smoke that rose in the pitch black darkness turned the glittering moon grey.
Ellis: Jude, it’s done.
Jude: Fine. Then let’s get outta here ‘fore things get messy.
A week has passed since I’ve become fairytale keeper.
Guests from Germany called Vogel have arrived, and I’ve been accompanying the others on dangerous missions,
In these hectic days, there are many things that bother me.
However, the thing that bothers me the most is —
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Kate: Jude, please take me with you on the mission today!
Jude: Ha. Make an appointment. Business hours are over, so scram.
He looked very unhappy while he glared at me disdainfully.
(But…I can’t back down here.)
Kate: For the past week, I’ve accompanied everyone on missions as fairytale keeper.
Kate: Only you and Ellis are the ones left.
Jude: Don’t care ‘bout yer problems.
Kate: Ughh….
Ellis: Is it okay if I go with Kate?
Ellis kindly soothed my heart that was gouged out by Jude.
However -
Jude: Y'shuddup.
(Haaa, it’s hopeless. What should I do….)
(If I can’t do it by asking directly, then I can follow them without permission, or ask for help…)
The moment I was lost in thought —
Victor: Today, I see Jude is walking about as the human form of cruelty and ruthlessness as well.
The “help” I wished for arrived with beautiful long hair, and in a cheerful mood.
Victor: Don’t be so cold, and take care of Kate.
Victor: The fairytale keeper is an honorable position that Her Majesty recognizes.
Jude: I don’t understand what yer sayin’, ‘n I don’t like it.
Jude: What’s that woman thinkin’, lettin’ ya abuse her power ‘n capture a commoner.
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(…..Commoner.)
Jude: Tch….revoltin’.
Jude: Let’s go, Ellis.
Ellis: Sorry, Kate. See you later.
Kate: Yeah….
I gave a small wave to Ellis who looked back with concern as he left.
(I’ve had quite a few bad experiences in my life.)
But this was the first time I’ve been met with such intense hatred for no reason.
To be honest…it’s not a good feeling.
He’s really a “jerk” with a rotten attitude —that was my first impression of him.
But I soon realized as I lived at Crown Castle, that he was like that with everyone.
[Shows different scenes of Jude's attitude.]
Jude: All Crown members on a urgent mission ordered by that Queenie?
Jude: Don’t need my help. Do whatever ya want.
Jude: Get together with Vogel? Ain’t nothin’ in it for me.
Jude: I ain’t goin’ to that thing.
Jude: Fairytale keeper? Thought ya scampered back home already. Dunno though.
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[Examples scenes end]
Kate: Jude Jazza’s report…..
Victor: You’ve brought the weekly report, thank you.
Victor: Jude Jazza. He is very arrogant, ruthless, and intolerable……
Just as he was speaking, I snatched the report back from him.
Kate: There’s no way I can present a report full of insults to her Majesty!
…A few days later.
Harrison: Yeah, I got it from Victor.
In the note Harrison gave me —
The Pub near St. James’s Park, 10:00 p.m.
(This is!)
Harrison: Tonight Jude and Ellis are on a mission to bust a gang selling illegal drugs.
Apparently Victor couldn’t just watch things silently, and arranged for me to join the two on their mission.
Kate: Thanks for the note, Harrison.
(The pub, tonight at 10…that means)
When I looked at the clock, there was only an hour left.
Kate: I’ve got to hurry! I’m off.
Harrison: Ah, oi…..Roger’ll go with you, so meet up with him!
Harrison: ….I don’t think that guy’s going to be easy to deal with.
Just before I ran out of the room, I heard Harrison’s murmuring….Perhaps, he was predicting what would happen tonight.
When I arrived at the location precisely on time — the entire mission had been completed.
(Maybe….no, not maybe)
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Roger: Hahaha, Jude took you for a ride didn’t lil’ lady?
Kate: ……
His cheerful and merciless voice, unlike Jude’s pierced my heart.
Ellis: Oh, Kate. And Roger too.
(Since Ellis returned to the pub, does that mean Jude’s returned too?)
I leaned forward a bit to see if Jude was there.
(Hm…he’s not here?)
Kate: Ellis, where’s Jude?
Ellis: Smoking probably.
I went to the back of the pub, and found Jude sitting on the stairs smoking.
Kate: …You lied and gave the wrong time.
Jude: Can ya stop makin’ false accusations?
Kate: False accusations?
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Jude: Didn’t say it would “start” at 10:00 p.m. It’s yer fault for not confirmin’ ‘forehand.
[All options are +4/+4] - “Option 1: It was my mistake.”
Kate: That’s….definitely my mistake for not confirming.
I was the who assumed the time written on the note was the start time.
Jude: Hmm, so ya got ‘nough brains to honestly fess up when yer wrong. That’s great.
(What Jude is saying is probably right….But..)
Kate: Why would you intentionally do something that would make someone hate you?
Jude: Is there somethin’ to gain by bein’ liked by ya?
White smoke flows from his cruel smile.
Kate: So it’s okay to be hated by others so long as there’s no benefit for you?
Jude: Are ya a fool who wants to be liked by everyone?
Kate: But, there’s nothing wrong with being like, is there?
Jude: Sickenin’. I hate it when people say - “Let’s all be friendly.”
(No matter what I say, it’s a deadlock….)
I’ve tried to meet him halfway so many times.
But each time he’s treated me coldly, and it’s made me really angry.
— That’s why I said this.
Kate: If that’s what you say, then I’ll make you understand.
Words you should absolutely never say to him….
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Jude: ….Hah?
White smoke swirls up from his cranky lips like a coiling serpent.
Jude: Whaddya gonna make me understand?
When I heard his rough voice from his thin lips, I realized that I touched a nerve.
But I can’t take back what I’ve said — So, I should just say what I feel.
I glared at Jude on the other side of the white smoke, trying not to be overwhelmed by his powerful gaze.
Kate: By the time I finish being the fairytale keeper, I will find something to like about you.
Jude: Hah?
Kate: I can’t find anything at the moment….but I don’t think it’s bad to be liked regardless if there’s gain or not.
Jude: ………..
Kate: I promise you.
When I nodded, Jude’s lips twisted into an exasperated smile.
Jude: ….Idiot. Are ya insane?
Jude: If ya find somethin’ like that, I’ll listen to any one thing ya say.
(Those words just now…! Can I take them as an agreement?)
Kate: Deal, I’m looking forward to it!
Kate: Oh, and I don’t intend to leave your side until I’ve fulfilled my promise, no matter how many times you push me away.
Jude: Ha. Fine, if ya say so, then do as ya please.
After a long battle, I finally got him to say those words.
Kate: Yep, I’ll do as I please!
I fanned away the cigarette smoke that separated us, and took a step closer to him….
Jude scoffs while letting out a thick puff of smoke.
Jude: Just remember one thing princess….My “promises” don’t come cheap.
Jude: If ya break yer promise, I’ll show ya a hell that’ll make ya think ya were better off dead.
Amidst the elegant scent of sandalwood, which was far from his image, and the sweet, burning scent of tobacco —
Jude and I made our first promise.
[Transitions to the Palace]
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Darius: Jude Jazza, huh. - Hm, Nica.
“Vogel” - an organization under the direct command of the German Emperor.
It’s Director, Darius Vogel, smiled gracefully.
Nica: You want me to look into him, right. That’s fine, I’m personally interested in him.
Nica: …So I hope I can gather some interesting information on him.
The following day I was called to Victor’s office.
Victor: Jude, Ellis, and Kate, thank you for your hard work last night.
Victor: Now then, Kate I’ve heard that you’re going to be Jude’s exclusive fairytale keeper going forward?
(Huh?)
Jude: Why’a lookin’ confused, yer the one who suggested it.
(That’s….)
[Flash back begins]
Kate: By the time I finish being the fairytale keeper, I will find something to like about you.
Jude: If ya find somethin’ like that, then I’ll listen to any one thing ya say.
[Flash back ends]
(Maybe that’s it?)
Jude: A one-sided termination of the contract’s invalid. Don’t go back on yer word, people-pleaser.
Kate: I wouldn’t go back on my word, even if you didn’t tell me to.
Victor: Jude truly is an arrogant, insincere, and narrow-minded man, but he never breaks his promises.
Victor: Hence, he demands the same of others, or else they’re met with fierce retaliation.
As Victor’s cheerful voice rang out, Jude and I stopped glaring at each other.
Kate: That means….
Victor: Now that this has happened, there’s no escape for you, is there?
Jude Jazza, his curse is the 13th fairy from Sleeping Beauty.
Twelve fairies were called to the castle for a banquet of the the newborn princess.
Each of the fairies blessed the lovely princess….
— However, the 13th fairy was not invited to the castle, and it cast a curse on the princess out of resentment.
(I’m sure that’s how the tale goes…)
Kate: ….Is this person vindictive because of his curse, or simply because of his mean personality?
Victor: Hmm, that’s a mystery buried deep beneath the sea —
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Jude: Don’t care if it’s some curse or not.
Ellis: Will you sign it? Or…
Jude: Signin’ with yer blood’s fine.
As if to prove his rotten personality, Jude smiled sarcastically….
Kate: I’ll sign anything!
I reflexively responded to his provocation, and ran the pen across the paper.
Within seconds of signing, Jude tucked it in his breast pocket.
Jude: Thanks. Let’s be friends from now on, eh princess?
A cruel person who delights in the misfortunes of others.
(There’s no way I’ll ever fall in love with someone like that.)
(But, if I don’t fulfill my promise, then I’m in breach of the contract….)
— I’ll end up as his prey.
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[Main Story Master List] [Chapter 2] Dividers: @.natimiles Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka
If you wish to be added or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!
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cece693 · 1 year ago
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You Call That Love? (Damon Salvatore x Male Reader)
Because I don't see many Damon Salvatore x male reader posts, I decided to write one myself. You can't convince me that Damon hasn't had male lovers before.
Summary: Elena tries to get with Damon but soon realizes he has moved on—with m/n of all people.
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Their lips moved in a frenzied dance, hands tearing at each other's clothes in a passionate embrace when the gasp of a familiar, bothersome human interrupted their intense makeout session. Looking up at Elena with an annoyed expression, m/n rolled his eyes before sitting upright, allowing Damon to hastily put his shirt back on.
"Why?" she whispered pathetically, her brown eyes tearing up while looking at Damon as if he had just killed her parents. "I thought we had something—"
Unable to contain his laughter, m/n released a hearty chuckle. "Why, Miss Elena?" he mocked "I distinctly remember you bragging about your relationship with Stefan not even a week ago. What happened? Trouble in paradise?" Feeling Damon's arms wrap around his middle, m/n cuddled against Damon's front, allowing the vampire to take what he needed.
M/n wasn't naive to the fact that Damon still harbored some feelings for Elena, although the nature of said feelings had changed. So, just for him, m/n would step back and allow things to run their course.
"You don't know anything," Elena hissed, her eyes narrowing at m/n with utter hatred. Ever since he stepped foot into Mystic Falls, her life changed for the worse: Bonnie and Caroline finally stood their ground and told Elena they didn't want to be involved in her problems.
Recently, Stefan and she broke up; Stefan, noticing the eerie similarities between Katherine and Elena as of late, decided to break the cycle and began dating Caroline.
But, worst of all, when Elena finally (or rather knew she had no other option) admitted she loved Damon, the vampire disregarded her confession, telling her he'd moved on—with m/n of all people.
"Elena," Damon's stern tone caused the girl to break eye contact and look expectantly at the vampire. A part of her still hoped Damon would realize the mistake he was making, but as the vampire continued talking, hope vanished.
"I don't love you. M/n made me realize that what we had was toxic and borderline obsessive. Being with Stefan, then me, Matt—that isn't love."
"Don't try to tell me how I feel," Elena exclaimed. "I'm sorry it took me such a long time to realize my feelings, but you can't tell me what I feel for you isn't valid."
Feeling bold, Elena stepped forward, about to touch Damon and reel him back into her web of manipulation, when m/n had enough and pinned the human to the wall, his hand on her throat. Uncaring if she could breathe, m/n felt this was sufficient punishment for Elena, thinking she could touch what was his. 
Elena gasped for breath as m/n's grip tightened, her eyes widening with fear. "You thought you could have it all, didn't you?" he sneered, his cold e/c eyes piercing into hers.
"Stefan, Damon, and whoever else caught your fleeting attention. You don't care about anyone other than yourself. Where was this love when Damon was begging you to choose him? Your exact words were nobody could love a monster like you. And now you want to rewrite history? He's with me now, and I suggest you come to terms with that."
With a final, disdainful glance, m/n released his grip on Elena's throat. "You're twisting everything!" she exclaimed after regaining composure, her voice strained. "You don't know the whole story. What Damon and I have is real."
As Elena struggled to defend herself, Damon's expression shifted with each word she uttered. At first, her claim to have loved him drew a flicker of skepticism in his eyes. However, as she delved into the reasons for denying his love, a mix of hurt and anger played across his features. "I loved him, but he was too caught up in his own darkness to see it."
Damon's jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with a wounded expression. "People change, m/n. Damon could have changed for me." The pair of vampires now stared in disbelief. How had Elena managed to turn herself into a victim in this situation?
"Change? Is that what you call it?" Damon's retort cut through the air like a cold gust of wind, his voice edged with bitterness. His eyes, once clouded with hurt, now blazed with a fiery resolve. "You left, Elena. You chose someone else. You choose Stefan."
M/n, standing beside Damon, could sense the raw emotion emanating from the vampire, a poignant mixture of anger and hurt.
"M/n accepted me for who I am. He didn't demand that I change, mold myself into someone more palatable to fit your version of love. You can't rewrite history just because you don't like the ending."  
Frustration etched across Elena's face. "Fine, have it your way," she spat, casting one last resentful glance at Damon and m/n before storming out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. Even as the sound of Elena's car drew farther away from the boarding house, Damon's eyes lingered on the closed door. 
M/n turned to Damon, his gaze softening as he assessed his lover beside him. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern.
"Yeah," Damon replied, "Thanks for handling that."
M/n nodded, his expression conveying understanding. "You know I've got your back, always." Damon's eyes softened, a subtle warmth replacing the tension that had gripped him moments before. He didn't need grand gestures or elaborate confessions; the simplicity of m/n's words told him everything he needed to know.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
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kokomyass · 1 year ago
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Neuvillette ☆ To be a Father
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Neuvillette x Fem!Reader Genre: ☁️ Word Count: 1943 Trigger Warnings ⚠️ : none!!
synopsis: in which, our cutesy hydro dragon is afraid he doesn't have what it takes to be a father...
a/n: hey guys yet again, half asleep when posting this....too tired to edit...really hope you enjoy this lowkey gave me baby fever 🔮🌙🔮
Neuvillette always thought of himself as an outcast to human society.
He would observe human customs and analyse them for decades trying to understand humans and their thoughts.
However, there was one concept he had never seemed to grasp despite his hundred years on Teyvat....and that was the concept of love.
Whether it was romantic love, platonic love or familial love, he always pondered what it would be like to fall in love?
Would it be a noticiable thing? Or would it be something that is destined from birth.
No matter how much he would tell himself he didn't need any sort of love, he always felt an ache in his heart seeing couples and their children interact.
However, that aching feeling in his heart soon turned to a warm one when he met you.
The feelings he felt around you exceeded any sort of feelings he thought he would feel after witnessing and analysing others relationships.
You were perfect in his eyes. You were beautiful and you were kind. You always knew how to reassure him when he became insecure about how he struggled to feel like he was included in society.
You knew Neuvillette was a genuinely caring individual no matter how humble he may try to be. He was always very busy but he always made sure to spend time with you even if it is while he is working.
That's why you knew he would be an amazing father.
"Hey, Neuvi, sweetheart!! I have some news...." you walked into his office as he looked up from the papers he was writing in with a warm smile reserved for you.
"What news do you have for me, my dear?" you were now stood in front of his desk. You placed your positive pregnancy test on his desk as he looked at it taking a moment to register what it was.
"I'm pregnant!"
The look of complete and utter shock on Neuvillette's face was something that would never make an appearance again...but you also couldn't ignore his trembling when he hugged you.
Neuvillette was happy to hear you were pregnant of course, it was something he yearned for many, many years, but he didn't know if he had what it took to bring up a child of his own....he wasn't even human.
After you gave birth you noticed that it began to rain quite a bit which made you chuckle slightly knowing that your husband was just a bit emotional about the birth of his own child.
Which brought you to where you both were now. It had been a week since your beautiful daughter was born and you had noticed Neuvillette had become very faraway. You often found yourself asking him things multiple times before he could actually answer, and he seemed to be acting rather clumsy (and for the record neuvillette is NEVER clumsy...) and it wasn't that he wasn't interacting with his daughter but when he would he would looked AWFULLY stiff...
"Ugh....I don't know what to do you guys!!" you rocked your sleeping daughter back and forth sighing.
You had invited your friends Chlorinde, Navia and Furina to your home to help you with Neuvillette's odd behaviour.
"Well, Y/N, have you spoken to him?" Navia suggested.
"Yes, Navia, of course I have! I asked him what the issue is and I even asked if it was about him thinking he wasn't a good father! But the same answer is always given....'I'm fine dear, don't worry about me just a bit tired is all'  and then he calls it a day!!" You were getting stressed as you began to rock your baby a bit faster.
"Y/N, maybe we should...uh...calme-toi...you might wake up your daughter..." Furina patted your arm, sweatdropping slightly. You sighed as you slowed your movements.
"Your right...I just wish he would talk more you know, he doesn't have to take everything on alone now..." you looked down at your baby sleeping calmly.
"Well, Y/N, knowing how much he loves you I'm sure he will open up sooner or later...and I believe he will have to for the sake of your future with you daughter." Chloride stated, making you feel slightly better.
"Yes! Maybe you can ask Sigewinne, maybe Neuvillette may seek advice from her especially if he doesn't want you to know!" Navia butted in as she poored some tea for everyone.
"You guys are right!! Thank you guys you always know how to help!" a wave of tiredness washed over you as your felt your daughter begin to stir awake.
"As much as I would love to carry on talking my baby needs to eat and I think the postpartum symptoms are hitting me...."
You said goodbye to everyone and sat in bed feeding your daughter before placing her in her bed to sleep. Your eyes felt heavy and lidded and as much as you wanted to stay awake for Neuvillette, your body betrayed you.
You felt a soft kiss on your head as you stirred awake looking up to see your husband's soft and beautiful eyes glowing at you.
"My deepest apologies to you my dear, work was extremely busy..." you chuckled softly as you hugged him tightly, interrupting his sentence.
"Don't worry my love, as long as your okay that's all that matters. We missed you." he smiles as he turns to the small bed your cute daughter is sleeping in.
"I missed you both an immense amount" He strokes her cheek softly but the flash of sadness that was on his face for a millisecond didn't go unnoticed by you.
"Neuvi, what is wrong, please tell me." you grabbed his hand and forced him to look at you. He looked a bit shocked for a moment before hiding it under a very faint smile.
"Y/N, don't worry, you need to stay healthy and happy, especially for our daughter." he strokes your hair as you frown at his answer.
He went to sleep next to you as it was nothing but you were going to find out what was going on.
Time Skip
You had secretly made it to the Fortress of Meropide to visit some good friends.
"Are you ready for this D/N?" you look down at your daughter in her little pram as she giggles excitedly clapping her hands together.
"That's my girl! Let's go!" you kissed your daughters nose before pushing her towards the infirmary.
You made it to the infirmary and you were lucky enough to see both Sigewinne and Wriothesley there having a conversation. Sigewinne was the first to notice you.
"Y/N!!!! It's so nice to see you! And you too little Y/N!!" Sigewinne ran up to you as you gave her a hug and she pat your daughters head making her giggle.
"It's nice to see you too Sigewinne! And hello Wriothesley."
"Hey there, Y/N..." Wriothesley walked up to you smiling. "Does ya kid still hate me?"
You laughed, "Let's see" you pointed to your daughter as Wriothesley put his finger out to her and she grabbed it giggling.
"Would you look at that!! Finally warming up to your uncle!!"
That's what Wriothesley thought before your daughter began biting his finger very hard.
"OWW! Why you-" he squinted at your child as you laughed.
Time went on and you explained the situation to them.
"I must say Neuvillette randomly came down here to talk to me...he never does that unless he wants to get his mind off something." Wriothesley folded his arms pondering.
"Yep! And Monsieur Neuvillette asked me if it is possible to bring up a child even if you aren't human...now it makes sense why he asked that. Of course I said yes!!" Sigewinne and Wriothesley had confirmed your suspiciouns.
"Oh, Neuvi, he may have the most authority in the whole of Fontaine, but he doesn't know how to listen to me..." you sighed shaking your head.
"Who would've thought a little girl would make him act like this? This is the first time I have veer seen him like this..." Wriothesley chuckles.
"Me too....I've been hear for as long as I can remember and he's never been this distressed...." Sigewinne but in placing a finger on her chin.
"Well, I suppose I should go and talk to him then...thank you so much for your help guys idk what I would do without you." you bid farewell to you Fortress companions before making your way to the Palais Mermonia.
Time Skip
You made it to the Palais Mermonia and rushed through all the doors until you made it to Neuvillette's office pushing the double doors open walking in with your pram.
"Neuvillette, we need to talk."
Neuvillette looked up from his work, shocked to see you there. He stood up and walked towards you.
"Y/N, what's going on? What wrong why do we need to-"
"Do you think you aren't going to be a good enough father to our daughter?" you folded your arms staring at him in the eyes.
Neuvillette stared at you wide-eyed, he stayed silent and looked at the floor avoiding your eyes.
You cupped his face in your hands and turned his head to lock eyes with you. You placed you lips on his softly as he melted into the sweet and soft kiss that had heavy emotion subdued in it.
"Neuvi...why would you ever think that? When I told you I was pregnant, I had no doubts or fears....not one...because I knew that no matter what you would craft our daughter into an amazing one with your amazing qualities. I know it sound cheezy....but Neuvi, I couldn't choose any other man to be the father of my daughter, so please, don't feel like you aren't enough your daughter loves you, and I love you and as long as you try that's all we care about."
You spilled your heart out as you stared at each other.
"I-" Neuvillette began speaking but suddenly it began to slowly rain outside.
You chucked, pressing a kiss on his nose.
"No need to feel sad my love." Neuvillette chuckled at your joke.
He looked at your daughter (who was really excited to see her dad) and picked her up rocking her back and forth.
"Y/N, I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't tell you. I felt like being a dragon, i have no human exlerience and i would lead out child down the wrong path. I should've told you so we could work it out but I just felt so unsure I found myself going to Wriothesley and Sigewinne for comfort. But none of that comfort I'd as good as the comfort of my family I must admit."
You chuckled hugging him tightly being careful now to wake the now asleep baby.
"Does this mean you will do nappy changes?"
"Of course, dear, I must relieve you of that stress!"
"This is why I love you~" You placed a kiss on his lips as he smiled warmly, a smile reserved for you AND his daughter.
"I love you both, my happiness."
A lil bonus:
It was nighttime and the baby had woken up crying and Neuvillette had gone to take care of it.
However, you being a curious little cat, you spied on them.
Neuvillette held her on his chest patting her back, humming a sweet melody to her.
"...Papa..." you daughter said her first word.
You could tell Neuvillette didn't seem to understand the significance of this based on how he carried on with whatever he was doing.
Meanwhile  you were crying...
Luckily, you were recording....it would be a reminder to explain to him later.
a/n: SOMEONE TELL ME THAT THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE BECAUSE I WAS A MESS WRITING THIS SHIT um love you guys hopw you enjoy anon that requested too 💜💜🍇🍇
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schrodinger-swriter · 1 year ago
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The main cast of Hazbin hotel on Valentine's day
I know I may be a little late. I had to do some shopping today and hadn't had the motivation or time to get down and write until now! I apologize is some characters are given more writing than others... the truth is that I am bised for some characters or simply have more for them. :C
Regardless I hope you enjoy these, I likely won't do these large posts very often.
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CHARLIE:
I hope you can forgive me for being a little short on Charlie's part, I had stated earlier what she would do for the holiday in an alphabet post! But to recap she makes you a mixtape with songs dedicated to you, songs made by her and songs she knows you like! The case is handmade too, covered in hearts as well as having a hand written note inside further expressing her affections for you. She would also give you some of your favorite candies! Expect to go out and do something fun and romantic too!
VAGGIE:
Much lower compared to her canon partner, Vaggie is not much of an enjoyer of the holiday. She keeps her thoughts to it to herself, though sometimes you might find her grumbling about all the pink and the red. She just doesn't enjoy the aesthetic all that much. However despite that she will still participate if she knows it will make her significant other happy! She would get you something small, like a stuffed animal and some flowers.
ANGEL DUST:
Respectfully stealing this idea from my mutual, but he already gets so many gifts and cards from his crazed horny fans. He hardly has the room for any more! Though.. he probably sells a lot of it for some extra cash, only keeping some of the candies. If you get him something, he probably wouldn't sell it. He's actually touched. In terms of what he does for you, he might treat you to a night full of him... in more ways than one if you're open to it. If you don't feel like going out he's fine with staying inside and watching some movies in his rooms... perhaps it's a deserved break after a rough day during the love season.
ALASTOR:
Similar to Vaggie, Alastor wouldn't do much. He understands the purpose of the holiday, but he simply. Does not care for it all that much. However I do rather enjoy the though of Alastor sending letters to his friends (Mimzy, Rosie, Niffty, ect). He even puts them in fancy envelopes and seals them with wax. How nice is that? If he can, he might even send a box of chocolates. Fingers, in Rosie's case. However, he doesn't do much to celebrate outside of that. That's assuming he sends anything at all, anyway.
SIR PENTIOUS:
He would go all out. He might even make a machine dedicated to you and gift it. He makes a mechanical heart that beats and gives it to you. He gives you all of the candy he can get his hands on, not exactly sure what you prefer. He takes you out for the night, to the nicest restaurant he can go to without getting jumped (because let's be honest... his days of trying to pick fights and climb to power has probably landed him with some enemies...). He's a total gentleman on the date, opening the door for you and pushing in your chair for you. Considering he's a little flustered that he is on a date with you, everything goes smoothly.
HUSKER:
He likes to stay in, but you can count that if you manage to get him to go out it's going to be a to a club or bar. Anywhere with alcohol. He'd much rather prefer a bar, since it's usually... lower in energy. He also isn't much of a Valentine's person, and he does show his disdain. He does tone down on talking negatively about the day around you, so there's that at least. A simple night in with an affirmation of love is enough for Husk.
NIFFTY:
She bakes you something and perhaps sews you something. A red throw pillow in the shape of a heart. Though you may have to tell her that's what you want because otherwise she's going to try something akin to the roach crown.... shivers... The baked goods are actually pretty good, and you'll be snacking on them for the rest of the week due to Niffty getting too excited and making too many. She will stab someone with a needle if they try to take one without asking you first.
LUCIFER:
He also goes all out, it might actually be a little overwhelming! He can conjure nearly anything he can think of, if his song was being literal! He wants to make sure you're loved, and that there's no possible way that you would ever think otherwise. Despite this he might rather stay inside, or maybe alter the home to look more fancy to make a mock dinner. Generally very sweet and you will be drowning in gifts from the second you wake up to the minute you go to sleep. He also makes you breakfast in bed.
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masoncantthinkofaname · 2 months ago
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Hiii!! first of all, finding ur tiktok felt like my prayers have been answered😭 You ARE genuinely the most open-minded person i have seen about shifting. The way you talk and approach shifting in itself shows your experience and I'm all here for it😈
Sometimes it feels like time is the most imp factor in shifting when it's not even real. You and so many others have spoken about this already, but that feeling of being so close to making this crazy discovery but then i look back and see everyone (my closest friends) have moved on in life cuz they didn't have to become that crazy scientist. Maybe because i have shifted before (but that was a WHILE ago), that feel even more crazed because i know i can do it. But it's not happening. I know this kind of mindset will do me no good but I'm just girl:(
You know how people say "u should find perfect balance between your cr and dr" and "shifting should not be a form of escapism". Now although that is true to a certain extent, I kinda don't want to do that!? But since i don't want to ""get behind"" i try to compromise with cr just to realize that i am meant for everything not something, and it's continues to cycle.
Thank you so much for your kind words! It makes me incredibly happy that my posts can help people, even if a little!
It's really frustrating to know that you can shift, but it feels like something is just holding you back from actually getting there. I understand. I've said this a million times, but people see time as this terrifying thing. Telling a shifter it might take them another month is seen as incredibly demotivating. And although I get why, I really think people need to get more comfortable with time itself.
It took you a few years, but in the end, does it really matter? I can only imagine how much you have grown as a person, how much you have learned and matured into your choices. In the off chance that it will take you a couple more years to fully shift to your dr, would that really change that much?
If you were told that you were absolutely, 100% guaranteed to shift within the next year or two, you would gladly wait all that time, knowing that, no matter what, you'll make it to your dr at the end of it.
But technically speaking you already have that guarantee. Shifting is already yours. Whether it's going to be today, next week, next month, the one thing you know for sure is that you're going to shift.
Time is nothing to be scared of at all. In this reality it's made out to be a huge deal, a clock you're always racing. But there is no clock, only eternity. You can redo, change, rewind, skip past anything you want. I promise you, you're not behind.
The more you embrace that shifting is already yours, and that it's nothing you're fighting to achieve, the easier it becomes. You have the promise of living any and as many lives as you want. Time here on earth is so incredibly short. Even if you would only shift when you're 70, it's nothing compared to how many years you'll live, to everything that's waiting for you.
You're okay, you're doing amazing. Allow your journey to unfold itself however suits you best. You know the end result is guaranteed, so don't worry about the time it takes you to get there💚
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billionstarsandhereweare · 7 days ago
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a/n: hi fellow DD friends, I may or not may not have posted the first chapter of my jump into the DD fanfic world. hope you enjoy!!! also on ao3
summary: Struggling musician meets struggling-slightly-less lawyer. Inspiration is sparked. Chp 1/?
word count: 7k
pairings/notes: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, no use of y/n though reader has a nickname, post netflix DD s3 but pre-DD:BA
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“Oi! Barkeep! You in there?”
   Startled by the noise, you jolted awake. As you rubbed the sleepy haze from your eyes, the front door of the bar slowly came into focus, along with the digital clock above it. 4:10PM. Shit. How long had you dozed off?
   “Seriously girl, let me in! It’s frickin’ freezing out here!”
   You rose from the metal stool you had been resting on and made your way towards the tiny foyer. Still drowsy, you fumbled with the old brass deadlock before managing to slide it open. As you swung the door open, you were greeted by a bearded grin and wet work boots.
   “Dang Josie Jr., you’re not used to these late nights are you?”
   “Shut it, Jackson. And I told you not to call me that.”
   Jackson gave you a smirk. “Pardon me, ma’am.”
   Rolling your eyes, you shuffled your way back to your regular position behind the bar. You’d be worried that Josie would be disappointed for opening 10 minutes late, but none of the regulars were waiting, and Jackson wasn’t the type to complain. Especially since Tuesdays were usually the slowest afternoons of the week.
   Josie had been running this bar since you were a kid, and every Tuesday was the same. For most of your school years, you could be found doing homework in the back, stealing peanuts from the bar and stashing leftovers in the walk-in while your mom finished up her shift at the hospital in Uptown. Your apartment up on the fourth floor always felt too quiet, and as long as you stayed out the way, Josie didn’t mind you hanging around. The sound of beer bottles clinking, electronic dings from the dart boards, and clacking of billiard balls was better for your concentration than any white noise machine anyway. Mom had moved to Florida about ten years ago, but you stayed behind in the apartment while in college. You still studied in the back corner of Josie’s, the only change being that you added rum to your sodas. After graduation, she offered you a job to help stay afloat while you job-hunted. She was practically family and was much happier to bring on someone she already knew and trusted. You’d always had it as a fallback plan between jobs at music shops, private lessons, and your never-ending auditions for a consistent spot in an orchestra. Years had gone by since your first night there, and though your frustration grew more and more each day without a performance gig, you appreciated the steady income nonetheless.
   “How long did Josie say she’d be out?” Jackson’s voice floated out from the back room, thuds following as he grabbed cases of beer and rearranged kegs.
   “Couple of weeks, most likely. I told her to take whatever time she needed, it’s not like she’s had a vacation in the last however many years. I was starting to think she was literally chained to this place.” You really wouldn’t have been surprised if you found an actual shackle underneath the counter, with how much Josie worked.
   He chuckled as he headed your way to check the canned beer fridge under the counter. An impressed smile crossed his face once he realized that not only was that full, but so was everything on the rail and the shelves.
   “You’re making my job too easy, friend. Paula and I left everything a mess last night. What time did you even come in today to get this all taken care of?” Jackson asked.
   “Around one or so. Eastern was here for a liquor delivery, so I popped down after my lessons.” Grabbing a rag from the ‘clean’ bucket under the sink, you squeezed behind him to start wiping up the rain he tracked in. 
   “For real though, if you needed help getting things set up, you could’ve called. I’m less than half a mile from here.”
   You didn’t look up from the water on the floor you were trying to sop up. 
   “Does it look like I needed any help?”
   Jackson faltered, voice falling. “I mean, no, I just…”
   Now you glanced up at his six-foot-something frame. He seemed so much taller at this angle, yet he was almost shrinking back. It would have been almost amusing, him being afraid of you, but guilt immediately crept up in your chest instead.
   “I’m sorry, Jackson. I’m just stressed out,” you admitted, “and I do appreciate the offer. Rough auditions this week, and I’m not used to working every night at the bar. Josie might never take another vacation if she finds out I asked you to help open, though.”
   “Hah! Ain’t that the truth. Well, lemme know if anyone gives you trouble tonight, and I’m there,” clapping you on the back before he took his seat at the stool by the bar’s entrance. 
   You pulled yourself up off the floor, stretching and rolling your shoulders before tossing the wet rags into the ‘dirty’ bin. The bell on the front door jingled as the tension in your back released a little, settling into the normal weeknight routine as patrons filtered in for their usual drinks and games of pool.         
   Before you could even register time moving, nine-thirty rolled around and the bar was bustling. A couple of bikers by the pool tables loudly challenged their buddies to another round while a few others took turns at the dart boards, chatter and conversation filling the air. You were in your normal flow of handing out drinks, refilling the ice bin, and hollering at Jackson to grab yet another case of beer from the back when you heard a cheerful voice say,
   “Well, it’s certainly nice to see you back instead of our usual wicked witch of a bartender!”
   You turned around to be greeted by two men around your age, leaning on the bar. They stuck out in your memories of the usual Tuesday regulars, mainly because they were both in suits, a stark contrast to the usual biker vests and dirty canvas construction jackets usually seen. The blond one grinned at you, while his dark-haired friend had turned his head off to his left, eyes hidden behind maroon-colored lenses.
   You gave the stocky blond a bit of a glare, crossing your arms across your chest. 
   “Ah, Foggy Nelson.”
   “The one and only!”
   “Don’t think I’ve forgotten your incident with the popcorn machine last fall.”
   He threw his arms out in exasperation and sighed, “Aw come on! It was a one-time occurrence, and I promise I made it up to Josie.”
   “I don’t think calling her a wicked witch is a great way of making it up to her. Besides, I was the one sweeping up popcorn for hours, not her.”
   “Alright fine, I guess I owe you for that. Why don’t you throw a drink for you on the firm’s tab with ours, I’ll take-“
   You were already pouring a tall draft and a whiskey before he finished the sentence. 
   “Whatever beer is on special. Whiskey on the rocks for Matt,” nodding in his friend’s direction. “And no, Foggy Nelson, this is not going on your firm’s supposed tab. It’ll be $6 each.”
   “What if I wanted something different?” frowned Foggy, picking up the frosty mug you slid in front of him.
   “It may have been three months since I worked a Tuesday, but you’re pretty predictable. You only order something different if you’re trying to impress a woman and I’m pretty sure Matt’s not one,” you replied, barely managing to keep a straight face as Matt held back a chuckle.
   “That’s… creepy, but impressive. I’ll give you that one, Z.”
   Their nickname, well Foggy’s really, finally made you crack a smile. He had drunkenly bestowed it on you last summer when you and Josie were both behind the bar, as apparently “Jo and Z” was the funniest thing to him at the time.
   “Hah! I knew I could break that scowl!” he said before turning around to head to him and Matt’s usual booth in the corner, stopping between to strike up conversation with one of the bikers.
   “Truly is a golden retriever type, isn’t he?” you said, chuckling as you exchange a glass for Matt’s card.
   “The enthusiasm never ends. Been like that since I met him.” Matt replied warmly, taking a sip of his drink. “I think he’s just excited to see you’re back, you’ve always been a little easier than him on Josie.”
   “Eh, to be fair, Josie’s had to put up with him for longer.”
   “That’s true. Speaking of, I’m assuming you’re here on a Tuesday because she’s out? Everything okay?”
   You nodded and said, “Very astute of you. She’s out in Michigan for a couple of weeks, so it’s just me and Jackson running the place tonight. Finally convinced her to take a vacation.”
   Matt raised an eyebrow. “Josie? Vacation? Never thought I’d hear those words together.”
   “Trust me, it was no small feat.”
   “Well, I’m glad she’s taking the time off. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her leave the bar. Go ahead and leave the card open, we’ll be here awhile. It’s good to see you again, Z.” Matt said, emphasizing your nickname with a small, amused smile.
   “Good to see you guys too. I’ll come and check on your drinks in a bit.” He gave you a quick nod and flashed you a bigger grin, one that stopped you for just a couple seconds longer than it should. 
It took you just a beat, but you managed to snap out of it, tossed your towel over your shoulder, and got back to work. You really need to get some proper rest girlfriend, thinking to yourself while shaking your head. Banter is half of what a bartender’s job is. Can’t be letting some dark-haired regular throw you out of your groove.
   The night continued to rush by, a few rounds of draft specials for the mechanics up front, fives in exchange for quarters for the bikers at the pool table, vodka crans for the out-of-place college girls trying and failing to flirt with Jackson up front. He was effective as a bouncer, but there was something about the long, dirty blond hair tied back in a man-bun that college girls were drawn right to. They never made it far enough to realize Jackson’s type was guitar-playing hipster guys. As you started to head to Foggy and Matt’s table a little before midnight to grab their empties and hand out another round, you were still on autopilot. 
   “I’m just saying, this could bring in a lot of money. You remember what that is right? That green stuff that lets us pay rent and buy food?”
   You probably shouldn’t have listened in, but you couldn’t help but eavesdrop. Comes with the territory, you thought to yourself.
   “Foggy, I get that, but we started our firm to help people who need it. Not some sketchy guy working for a construction company that we can’t find any sort of information on.”
   “How do you know he’s sketchy? What, did you use your ESP or something?”
   “Knock it off. You know what I-” 
   Distracted, you stumbled over the uneven floor and the empty bottles in your left hand clattered to the ground in front of their booth. At least you managed to keep the tray in your right hand somewhat balanced. So much for staying in a groove.
   “Look, it’s the wicked witch’s assistant!” an inebriated Foggy exclaimed, grinning and throwing his hands out in your direction. 
   After setting their drinks down on the table behind you, you crouched down to grab the empties rolling away. “Not doing super great at that, seeing as I’m throwing empty bottles at my regulars.”
   “I think Josie would approve,” Matt said with amusement in his voice.
   “Speak for yourself Matt, but I don’t much appreciate having things thrown at me,” Foggy shot in mock offense, his nose in the air. 
   “My sincerest apologies, Mr. Nelson. I’ll make sure I only throw things at the blind man,” you fired back without thinking. Right after the words left your mouth, Foggy choked on his beer, sputtering and shaking with laughter. As you realized what you said, your cheeks immediately flushed red and you stuttered out, “God, sorry Matt, I swear it was a joke – I didn’t-“
   Matt let out a sympathetic laugh as he elbowed Foggy in the ribs, saying, “You only need to be sorry if Foggy drowns in his beer.”
   You winced. “God no, seriously, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think about-“
   “Really, it’s fine. He makes worse jokes on an hourly basis at this point,” Matt said waving his hand, giving you a reassuring look that made the heat in your face fade just a little.
   “Well, either way, I feel bad. Either for the joke or for making Foggy inhale his beer. Next round’s on me, just don’t tell Josie,” you offered, smiling at them both before sliding their drinks over.
   Foggy flashed a smile back about as bright as a spotlight while Matt gave a thumbs-up before you walked back to the bar.
   Twelve forty-five came around as you flipped on the overhead lights.
   “Last call! Wrap it up everyone!”
   You started pulling out receipts and ringing out orders. The biker guys were finishing up their last round of pool, and Foggy and Matt still sat at their booth at the opposite end, half arguing, half laughing about something you couldn’t quite hear. As Jackson started refilling the beer fridge for the final time, you realized you forgot the key to the safe at Josie’s place after dropping off the monthly invoices earlier in the morning.
   “Hey, Jackson, can you mind the bar for five minutes? I need to run upstairs and grab the safe key.”
   “Aye aye, cap’n.”
   “Don’t be a smartass, Jacks.”
   As you walked past the walk-in fridge towards the back staircase, you heard him retort, “But that’s what I’m good at, boss!”
   “Five minutes! Don’t burn the place down!”
-
   You trotted up the four flights of stairs to the hallway connecting your side of the floor to Josie’s. After punching in the code to her apartment, you entered the dark living room, immediately seeing the safe key on the end table where you left it. Stuffing it in the pocket of your sweatshirt, you decided to pop over to your place to grab your headphones, knowing it would be a welcome distraction as you needed to deep clean the back bar later on. Just as you crossed into your bedroom to grab them off the desk, a strange sound from the bathroom reached your ears. As you padded closer to the door, you felt your stomach drop as you recognized what it was.
   Water fell in a steady stream down from a hole in the ceiling right above the showerhead, and out into the room. Your eyes darted over to the built-in armoire that held all your clothes to see that it was soaked, too. There was a single step down between the bedroom and bathroom, and as you looked down, you saw water covering every inch of the floor.
  “Fuck!”
   Racing back through the bedroom, through the living room, and into the kitchen, you reached the main water shutoff for the fourth floor in the utility closet. After grabbing and cranking it shut, you ran back to the bathroom to make sure that the water stopped, and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw it did. You fumbled for your phone, managing to dial the bar’s number with shaky hands. Pick up, pick up, pick up.
   “Hey girl, what’s the hold up?”
   Phew. “Oh thank god.”
   Jackson picked up the concern in your voice near immediately. “What’s the matter?”
   “Water line in my shower bust open. Not sure how. Gonna be cleaning this up for hours. Can you finish closing the bar down?”
   “Shit. Uh, I can, but I need your register card first. Your lawyer friends are here trying to close out, looks like you comped some of their drinks. Need your card for that. Did you leave it by the bar?”
   You frantically patted down the pockets in your jeans, felt the plastic card in your back pocket, and sighed. “No, I have it. I guess the water’s not going anywhere for right now. I’ll be down in a sec.”
   You looked around at your bathroom and took in the damage. With this amount of water, you’d be cleaning it up until the morning. It’d be a small miracle if the whole room wouldn’t need to be gutted. A sinking feeling started to fill your stomach, but before you could let it settle too far, you shook it off, heading out the door and locking it before jogging back downstairs. 
   Once behind the bar again, you let out a sigh, realizing it had been only ten minutes, though it felt like much longer than that. All of the bikers were tugging on their jackets, and a very drunk Foggy was teasing Jackson about something.
   “Sorry about the wait, guys. Apartment trouble.” 
   “It’s about time, Glinda!” Foggy slurred.
   That got a chuckle out of you. “Foggy, I’m pretty sure Glinda was the Wicked Witch’s sister, not her assistant.” You swiped your card at the register and got their final bills printed out. As you handed them the checks and a couple of pens, you hurriedly said “I have to head back upstairs, but I’m sure I’ll see you two next week.”
   “Is everything alright?” Matt inquired with furrowed brows while handing back his signed receipt and pen. 
   You ran your hands over your face, groaning. “Water line burst in my bathroom. Entire room is flooded. Gonna be in there with a shop-vac all night getting the water out.”
   He paused. “Well, if you want some help...” Matt trailed off, though the look of concern on his face held fast.
   You stopped for a second, considering. Nice of him to offer, I guess even a blind second set of hands is better than one. You scowled at yourself for that thought. Don’t be rude, you jerk. Not really in the habit of inviting men I hardly know into my apartment, but Josie has said they’re good guys, so…
   “You know what, yeah, I could use it,” you admitted to Matt with a sigh. “You sure the one-and-only Foggy Nelson is going to be much assistance, though?” you asked, thumbing over at his drunken counterpart, using Jackson as support as he tried to put on his coat.
   Matt tilted his head towards Foggy, pausing before he replied. “Hah, yeah, he definitely drank more than his fair share tonight. I’ll call him a cab and get him on his way home, and then I can help out.”
   “Thanks, I owe you one.”
   “Just helping a friend. Don’t worry about it.” He gave you that wide smile again, and you briefly forget about the mess waiting upstairs. “Do you want me to wait here in the bar until you’re finished up?”
   You nodded, and then felt heat rise to your cheeks, slightly embarrassed once you realized that wasn’t something he could notice. “Um, yes – well, Jackson’s gonna take care of closing the bar, so he can show you upstairs and through my place once you get Foggy situated. I want to get a jump on it. Just uh, knock or something when you get to my bathroom so I don’t jump out of my skin when I see you standing there.”
   Matt nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll be up soon,” he said before turning to assist a stumbling Foggy. You turned to make your way to the back stairs to start cleaning up the small pond waiting for you. Just as you passed Jackson, he grabbed your arm and in a hushed voice singsonged “Matt and Josie Jr., sittin’ in tree…”
   You punched him in the stomach with your free hand before he got much farther. “Seriously, man?”
   He let go and rubbed where you hit him, chuckling. “I’m just saying, I’ve never seen you invite a guy upstairs to your place.”
   “Ah yes, because mopping up gallons and gallons of water in a cold bathroom just screams ‘romantic.’ Don’t know why I didn’t think of this pick-up before.” 
   “Every time he smiles at you, you stop for a second. I’ve never seen someone snap you out of your rhythm like that.”
   You hated it, but he was right. Too observant for his own good sometimes. Crossing your arms, you glared at him and replied “Can you just let him in when he’s done and bring him upstairs? I’ve got a mini Hudson in my apartment and I’d really like to get started on cleaning it up.”
   “Yeah yeah yeah, I’ll escort him,” Jackson said while rolling his eyes at you. 
   “Thank you,” you replied, then softened as you continued, “And thank you for helping to close things down tonight. You can go once you get Matt upstairs, I’m sure Carter’s waiting for you. We’ll worry about deep cleaning the back bar later this week.”
   “Anytime. You know I’ve got your back.”
   You gave him a tired but thankful smile and headed upstairs.
-
   Even after cuffing your jeans to almost the knee, your legs were still soaked by the time Matt got up to your apartment. You’d managed to get the wet clothes out of the built in, wrung out, and tossed in a bag to take to the laundromat. You were just dumping the latest pass with the shop-vac down the drain of the tub when you heard a clicking in your bedroom. Wiping the sweaty strands of hair that had fallen from your braid out of your eyes, you looked up to see Matt knocking one hand against the frame of the door, cane resting in the other. 
   “Hey again. Jackson let me in. I told him I could find my way back to you,” Matt said before setting his coat and cane down to join you in the bathroom.
   You felt a pang of embarrassment in your chest. “Oh, I told him to walk you back here. Didn’t want you to have to find your way around this maze of doors alone.”
   He smiled gently at you. “It’s not a big deal, it’s pretty easy to hear where you are, what with the vacuum running and all.”
   Another pang, then you started to stutter. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like- I mean, I meant-” 
   “Hey, it’s okay, really. Don’t worry about me, I get around fine,” Matt said through a quiet laugh. “Happens all the time.”
   “What, the walking on eggshells-like attitude, or making women stutter in your presence?” Oh my god, shut up.
    “Well, the first one more than the second, usually.” Matt grinned, shrugging his shoulders. As he started rolling up his sleeves he continued, “but enough about my problems, what do you need help with?”
   Your eyes had drifted towards the now-bare skin of his forearms. He looked stronger than you expected for a lawyer, muscles flexing as the long fingers of his hand deftly cuffed his shirt at the elbow. You involuntarily licked your lips, admiring how the tendons in his broad hands rolled as he loosened the button on his other sleeve. Shaking it off, you tapped the corner of the bathroom and showed Matt where to start vacuuming up water. 
   “We can just dump the water in the tub, it’s a little over two feet to your left. Luckily none of the drains have an issue, it’s just the water line. I’m gonna go move this bag of clothes out of the way, I need to take them to the laundromat in the morning.”
   “You’re welcome to use my washer & dryer, if you want. Probably about the same distance, but I won’t charge you a week’s worth of pay.”
   Josie was right, these were good guys. “I may have to take you up on that. Don’t get too much in cash tips, mainly cards now. Even with the older biker guys, you’d be surprised at how many of them have points cards.”
   You could hear Matt laugh as you dragged your laundry bag to the front door. Cleaning this unexpected mess up was certainly a little easier with good company. You made quick work of the remaining water as you swept the water towards Matt while he held the vacuum, and once the pond was reduced to small puddles, you tasked Matt with wiping out the built-in so the water didn’t seep into the wood more than it already had. You were moving out to the hallway to grab the mop out of the utility closet when you heard Matt speak.
   “So, how do you know Josie? Other than working at the bar? I can’t imagine her hiring someone she didn’t already know.”
   You couldn’t imagine it either. “I’ve actually known her for most of my life. My mom and I moved into this apartment when I was ten. Josie actually owns the first five floors of this building.”
   Matt paused in disbelief for a moment and said, “No way, Josie, a landlord?”
   “Seriously. Apparently her family’s owned the building, including the bar, for over a century. The bar was actually a speakeasy back in the 20s.”
   A chuckle. “Just when you think you know your barkeep…”
   “Don’t tell her I said anything, we don’t want to ruin her mystique, after all.”
   “Not a word I ever would have used to describe Josie, but yes, secret is safe with me.”
   “Thanks. Anyway, yeah, she’s been my landlord for 20-something years now. My mom moved to Florida years ago, but I was still in college so I stuck around. Josie covered the rent until I graduated and got a ‘real’ job,” you continued.
   “What did you go to school for?”
   You scoffed a little, and replied, “Music performance. Piano, specifically.” Not wanting to elaborate on your distinct lack of a full-time gig, you turned the question around. “Obviously you have a degree, considering your lawyer-ing. Where’d you go?”
   “Columbia. Foggy and I both. We decided to start our own firm after working for corporations at our internship. Got sick of defending faceless businesses,” Matt frowned a little.
   “Oh so you’re standing up for the little guy? We need more of that.” 
   “I’d like to think so. Eating rice for every meal is getting a little old, though. Law isn’t all glitz.”
   You chuckled as you replied, “I feel that. The supply shop I worked for closed three months ago. Until I managed to start doing private lessons, I was pretty much eating bar peanuts and $2 frozen pizzas. Now I’ve upgraded to cheap Chinese.”
   “That’s glamorous,” Matt laughed. 
   “Very,” you confirmed as you turned back to the task at hand. “So, now that we’ve got the water mostly cleaned up, I think I’m going to cut into this drywall. Gotta see what the damage is. If you need to take off I understand,” glancing at your phone, “I imagine law starts early and it’s past two AM.”
   “I don’t mind staying and helping. I don’t sleep much anyway,” he quietly admitted as he leaned against the wall behind you.
   You pulled your utility knife from your back pocket and started cutting into the drywall two feet off the floor. Once you got to the wall shared with the bedroom, your stomach sank.
   “Shit,” you muttered. “Not what I wanted to find.”
   “Seeped through to the other walls?” 
   “Yeah. Which means the restoration process is going to be more intense than I was hoping.”
   Behind you, Matt paused, and then you heard him sniff. “Might be worse than that.” He walked up, close enough you could feel the heat of his body against your back. He gently set his hands on your shoulders, thumbs grazing the back of your neck, making you shiver just the slightest amount at the unexpected, but not unwelcome touch. He leaned over you and sniffed again. “Smells like mildew… maybe mold.”
   He must have sensed the pause before you started to speak and answered your question before it could leave your mouth. “When you can’t see, you tend to be able to hear and smell things before others. Lack of one sense heightens the others.”
   “Gotcha. Well, if it’s mold, I might be able to see it, now that the wall is open.” Grabbing your phone, you turned on the flashlight and directed it at the wall you cut open. After your eyes adjusted to the light, you could see some kind of discoloration on the inside of your bedroom wall. As you squatted down and leaned in closer to inspect it, you were suddenly hit with the musty odor that confirmed it. Definitely mold or mildew. You looked over your shoulder to see Matt’s figure back in the doorway.
   “Yeah, there’s definitely something in there. Gonna have to have the entire floor looked at, probably. So much for my plan of sleeping on Josie’s couch.”
   “I take it this isn’t your first water leak.”
   “I’ve seen enough to know how this goes. The water damage was going to put me out of a bathroom for at least a month, but mold...” You pulled your braid loose and ran your hands through your hair, unease settling in your chest like a boulder.
   Matt cleared his throat. “Do you need a place to stay?”
   Your brain short-circuited. “Wh-What?”
   He paused before he repeated the question, though out of apprehension or concern, you weren’t sure. “Do you need a place to stay? I’ve got a spare room. If that is actually mold, you probably shouldn’t be around it any more than you have to be.” You were pretty sure he could tell you were staring at him, mouth agape, as he continued, voice quieting as he softly said, “Josie acts like a real hardass, but she’s always been kind to me. I’ve known her for a long time, too. Helping you out would be helping her so…” He rubbed the back of his neck, unease in his voice as he trailed off.
   You were still staring. You swore he could hear your heart, it was beating so loud, banging against your ribcage as you tried to process what exactly he had offered. Finally managing to break your mental block and work through the situation, you stuttered out, “I uh-, I-I could use a place for tonight. I think I’ll probably end up with a hotel or rental through my insurance, but I won’t know until tomorrow.”
   He relaxed a bit, shoulders dropping. “Well, pack up what you need.” He took a few steps, closing the distance between you before reaching a hand down to help you up. Taking it, you stood and replied, “Thanks. Shouldn’t take me too long to throw together a bag.”
   “Can’t resist helping a damsel in distress,” Matt replied with a playful grin. “I have a moral code to uphold.” 
   You rolled your eyes but replied gratefully, “You’re gonna end up drinking for free with how much you’re helping me out, Mr. Murdock.”
   He just smirked and repeated your remark from the bar earlier. “Don’t tell Josie.”
   “Wouldn’t dream of it. If you wanna wait out in the living room, I shouldn’t be more than a couple of minutes.”
   Matt nodded before turning and leaving you alone in the bathroom. After taking a few deep breaths, you quickly ran through a mental checklist of what you needed to grab. Shower stuff, meds, charger, backpack... As you started opening the drawers in your vanity, you caught your reflection in the mirror above the sink. The circles under your eyes, ones that had seemingly been getting darker over the last few weeks, were accompanied by mascara smudged from sweat, your irises rimmed with red from tiredness. You hastily pulled your hair up into a bun and tried to wipe the marks under your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. A few strands of hair made their way loose, and if you weren’t so exhausted, you knew you’d be feeling self conscious about what a mess you were. 
   You made your way into the living room once you had everything packed up to see Matt waiting calmly by the front door. He lifted his head as he heard you enter the room. 
   “Have everything you need?”
   “I think so. You really okay with me using your washer? I’ve got probably half my closet stuffed into this laundry bag. May double your water bill for the month.”
   Chuckling, Matt replied, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to pay me back.”
   “You’re quickly approaching ‘free whiskey for life’ status here.”
   “Maybe that was my plan all along.”
   “Can’t believe I fell for the good Samaritan act!” you laughed as you laced up your boots. You moved past him, reaching for the front door. “Go ahead in front of me so I can lock up.”
   He stepped out into the hallway as you slipped into your jacket and tossed your backpack over your shoulder, quickly following him out the door. 
   “We’ll take the stairs over to the right, it’ll let us out the back of the building,” you said as you gathered up your laundry bag. A hand brushed against your elbow, causing you to jump a little, not expecting the gentle grip of his fingers. 
   “Sorry,” Matt said softly. “Do you mind guiding? It’s a little easier than using the cane inside.”
   “Oh, yeah - sorry, it’s not you, I just get kinda jumpy when I’m tired,” you said as you let Matt move his hand into the crook of your arm. Truthfully, you were thankful for the warm weight of his fingers as they landed on your bicep, as it helped balance out the load of laundry you carried in your other hand. As you exited the building into chilled, damp February air, you found yourself drawing closer to Matt’s side, involuntarily seeking the warmth that seemed to radiate from him. A cold breeze blew across you, carrying the faint scent of leather and wood from him to you. You turned the corner, following his directions as you made your way to his apartment, and an impulsive question tumbled from you.
   “Have you always been blind?”
   You felt Matt stiffen next to you, tension running up his broad frame. 
   “I guess you get asked that a lot. Stupid unfiltered thought, sorry.”
   “It’s a pretty common question, yeah. Not stupid though. And your answer is no, I haven’t. Happened when I was a kid,” Matt responded, though you could still feel what felt like discomfort at your questions. 
   You walked a few steps without speaking, unsure of how to continue the conversation. You finally managed to answer with, “I can’t imagine how hard it would be to adapt to that.”
   “I still struggle with it sometimes,” he admitted softly, “but there’s beauty in how I see the world now.”
   “That seems like a very healthy way to look at it. No pun intended.”
   You got a quiet chuckle from that. “Took me awhile to get there. Might be resilience, or maybe I’m just stubborn.”
   “We’ll call it resilience. Sounds better,” you smiled, nudging him. 
   “Fair enough. My turn for an invasive question,” he countered, nudging you back. “What’s a classically trained musician doing at a dive bar?”
   You groaned in response. “Guess you deserve a question since you answered mine. Currently ah, between gigs. And by between gigs I mean I haven’t gotten a call back from an audition in over four months.”
   “Wow. Competitive field?”
   “It is, but I’m not sure if I’ve hit a bad string of luck or if I’m just terrible at this point.”
   “I haven’t heard you play, but I highly doubt it’s the last one.”
   “Ever a gentleman. I’ve got a couple more lined up in the next few weeks, and at least I’ve been able to use my degree in the meantime. Got a handful of kids I teach during the day.”
   “Sounds like you might be as resilient as me,” Matt replied pointedly with a smirk on his face. 
   “Touché.”      
   The two of you walked in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the way. Once you reached his building, he unlocked the front door and held it open for you, and you entered a generic-looking lobby with beige tile floors and off-white paneled walls. Gesturing to the stairs on the left, he explained, “I’m on the sixth floor, but we can take the service elevator.”
   Just looking at the metal stairs had your legs feeling weak, the weight of your laundry bag seemingly growing heavier. “Thanks,” you replied tiredly, “not sure I’d be able to haul all this up tonight.”
   You followed Matt past the stairs down a short hallway that led to the service elevator. He entered first, hitting the ‘6’ button while you followed behind. Once inside, you leaned against the cool metal of the walls, eyes closing as your exhaustion began to settle in. You didn’t notice the elevator car opening on the sixth floor, though you did feel Matt’s hand gently press on your lower back. 
   “C’mon, let’s get you inside so you can get some actual rest,” he said. You stepped out of the elevator into a brightly lit landing, letting Matt move in front of you to unlock his front door. 
    It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dark entryway. Compared to your apartment, which you’d always described as “cozy,” Matt’s seemed almost cavernous. It appeared to be an old warehouse that was turned into a living space, with exposed brick all the way up to the top of the easily 20 foot ceiling. Across from the entry where you were standing, there were twelve-foot tall windows that filtered the light from the street lamps outside, giving the room an eerie yellow glow. On the left, a large, frosted glass door separated what you assumed was a bedroom area from the living room. Your eyes swept over the oversized leather sofa & chairs to the right side of the space that held a simple galley-style kitchen. Dark, espresso-stained cabinetry spanned most of the length of the back wall, flanked on one side by a stainless steel fridge, and a pocket door on the other.
   You managed to pull your dropped jaw shut after muttering, “Jesus. This is your idea of law not being glitzy?”
   Matt didn’t move from the entry where he was hanging his coat. “Wait for it.”
   A flash of light lit the apartment up, startling you. You walked over towards the bank of windows, searching for the source. Peering through the fogged panes, you could make out a billboard with what looked like spotlights dancing behind it.  
   You let out a low whistle. “Good lord.”
   “Been there for years. It’s a little distracting, apparently. Got a good deal on the place though.”
   “Why on earth is that across from an apartment? That’s gotta be against… some sort of building code.”
   “This floor is all apartments now, but it was warehouse space up until five or six years ago. This is the only one that faces it, so it isn’t really an issue for anyone else. They don’t get the cheap rent, though.” Matt shrugged before walking over and to the kitchen island where he dropped his keys. He waited, tracking your footsteps as you slowly walked through the living room, taking in the space before you made your way to lean against the island. 
   “Bathroom and laundry are behind you to the left,” he said once you had settled at the island in front of him.  He motioned behind him, “Spare room is through that pocket door. There’s a murphy bed in there, just pull down on the handle on the wall and it’ll come down. Should already be made, except for the pillows. Those are in the dresser. I’ll go put your laundry in the bathroom.”
   You walked past him, inspecting your new room for the night. The ceiling was a lot lower here, and it couldn’t have been more than seven feet deep total. The wall across from the doorway you stood in housed the murphy bed Matt had mentioned, flanked on either side by tall shelves filled with books. A red metal dresser sat in the corner of the small room. 
   “All good?” Matt asked from the kitchen. 
   “Yeah. I hate to ask, but you wouldn’t happen to have a pair of sweatpants or something I could borrow would you?” you asked, picking at the damp denim against your thighs. “I think all of mine ended up getting wet.”
   “Sure, I’ll be right back.”
   As Matt left the room, you reached up for the metal handle of the bed, pulling it down smoothly away from the wall. You were fluffing the pillows from the dresser as he returned, sweatpants in hand. 
   “Here you go. Brought a shirt too, just in case. You get the bed set up alright?”
   “I did. Gotta say, it looks way more comfortable than Josie’s couch.”
   “Good. I’ll let you get some sleep then. I have to be at the office in the morning, but you can stay as long as you need to. I’ll leave a spare key on the counter.”
   “Okay. Thanks for the sweatpants. And the bed. And the help. And everything else.”
   Matt gave you a soft smile. “You can thank me by getting some rest, you need it.”
   No way you were arguing with that. “Good night, Matt.”
   “Good night,” he replied, sliding the door shut. 
   You peeled off your damp jeans and slipped into the borrowed sweats before crawling into bed. Exhaustion quickly washed over you as you pulled the sheets up and around your shoulders, inhaling the faint scent of detergent, cotton, and oak before sighing and shutting your eyes. Sleep claimed you almost immediately, your worn-out body finally at rest. 
   Somewhere above you, a door creaked open.
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zepskies · 1 month ago
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I saw your reply to a comment and I don't understand why you get so defensive when someone criticizes your writing. Isn't that allowed? That's the problem with Tumblr these days. There are only small groups and anyone who doesn't belong isn't tolerated. I enjoyed reading your stories, but I also found several things that made no sense. It's a shame that criticism is simply ignored.
Ah, what a lovely message to wake up to! 😂
Hello, “anon.” I think I know who you are, but for the sake of this I’ll refer to you as anon.
I believe you’re referencing a comment someone made on If I Stay - Part 2, where they basically said, "This makes no sense and I couldn't bother to finish reading it anyway." What you're saying is it made no sense to you. And as you can see, I don't ignore criticism, I respectfully responded.
You're asking me to tolerate rudeness, anon. I've been writing for about nineteen years, since I was 10 years old. I've gone through a lot of growth as a writer since then, and I still am. I'm not a perfect writer, nor am I expecting everyone to love everything I write.
However, there is a world of difference between "constructive criticism" and "rude criticism."
Constructive criticism takes many forms, but it can look like this:
"There were things I liked about this story [name an example], but I'm sorry, this aspect I just didn't understand/didn't vibe with [insert example]."
^That kind of thing I can respect. It's about the delivery. I've had meaningful discourse with people who didn't vibe with things about my work. We talked it out like adults. However, the comment, "This makes no sense and I couldn't bother to finish reading it anyway" is not constructive. It's a rude, disrespectful complaint.
I spend several days, even weeks or months outlining, researching, drafting, and editing my stories before I post them here and on Ao3 (for free), as many writers do. Because we care about our work and a lot of us take writing seriously.
It takes someone just a few minutes to read something, and just a few seconds to write a negative comment like that.
The only way I know you've "enjoyed my stories" is if you comment and/or reblog a story. That particular person has only ever posted negative comments on my work; therefore, I can only assume they don't like my stories.
"Don't like, don't read" is a thing in fandom for a reason. Words have power, and at their worst, they can make or break a writer's will to write and share more stories (again, for free). It's a very personal thing to write and be creative, and it can be doubly scary for new writers to share them publicly.
So you can ignore this and continue leaving comments like that for writers if you want to, but I doubt it will earn you many friends in the fandom. At least, not from the writers you claim to like.
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