#though ive been having a hard time getting my ideas down on paper

[bunnyswritings]

ur blog is soo helpful !!!! ive been looking into writing more lately and this is like a godsend <3 i was wondering if u could do some starter tips?? like stuff to avoid as a new writer :o ps. hope ur having a wonderful week!!!

ahhh, hello!! this is such a sweet message, and thank you, i hope you have a fruitful week ahead too ♡ i'm so glad you're writing more lately- i'll def do my best to provide some starter tips (though i'm really also a starter myself 😅 so i hope you like these, and feel free to let me know what you think!) also, just to put it out there that these are what i found helpful personally / what i think will be helpful, and may / may not resonate with everyone. Also, this topic is soooo broad and there are a million things that can be covered, but for now I'll just keep it short and go with stuff to avoid (or rather, approach differently) as per request. if you / anyone else would like another post for more specific writing tips, feel free to drop it in my ask box!

Some general writing tips — stuff to avoid; little things to not overdo

over-planning

overusing fancy vocabulary

over-describing

over-criticising your work

over-comparing

more details under the cut!

Over-planning — plan the general outline, direction of your plot, message of your story, characters and their rough personalities; yes, do all that well! good planning makes for a good story, but i think it's helpful to remember that sometimes things don't pan out the way we envision them to. and it's important to let certain things go, appropriately of course. if your initial storyline doesn't quite fit the characterisation of the protagonist etc (and vice versa), then perhaps it's time to rethink things — and NOT be too hard-up about it. [tldr: be flexible!]

Overusing bombastic vocabulary — i'm sure you've come across millions of writing advice pieces that aim to spruce up your vocabulary with bombastic phrases. by all means go ahead and pick a few that fit the mood and style of your writing. otherwise, i'd say that sometimes, less is more. throwing in fancy words for the sake of it may not be as helpful as you think. there should be a fine balance between using words that add flavour + help to illustrate nuances and using words to make your piece seem complex. simplicity goes a long way, as i've learnt. but having said that, building up a solid repertoire of vocabulary / good phrases is always helpful, the key thing is using those phrases in the right context. definitely easier said than done, so i suggest reading your favourite author's works couple of times through and pick up their way of using language to their advantage.

Over-describing — narration, descriptive language are great, and can really help to nudge your story in the right direction. it helps set the scene, the mood, and all these are critical in writing... BUT! not the same can be applied to describing actions. not every single action has to be written out explicitly — an example: she walks over to the kitchen, turns around, and opens the refrigerator. she then takes out a canned drink, and places the drink on the countertop... etc — you get the point. some things can be left implied, rather than explicit.

Over-criticising your work — ahh, the age-old piece of advice. i do it all the time, and you probably do too... sometimes, being harsh on yourself and on your work may seem like the only way to better yourself and push your limits, but often times, i personally find that this is counter-productive both on the physical and mental front. it wears you down, it is a nidus for dejection and negative vibes. i think the way i try to get round this is by taking pride in my own work; telling myself that 'this is something i wrote, these are my ideas put into prose, these are my thoughts written on paper'. the caveat here is that avoiding being over-critical of your work DOES NOT and should not mean avoiding proofreading. proofreading is extremely crucial to check for grammatical and structural errors (i recommend doing it once or twice yourself, and if possible, getting a fresh pair of eyes to do the same).

Over-comparing — this ties in nicely with the previous point. take pride in your work! this is something original from you and you only, written in your unique style. having authors/writers whom you look up to is essential in moulding your writing style and habits, but should not be the sole focus when you write. remember that every writer is different, every piece of writing is different; this goes even for pieces with similar plots / tropes / character personalities. nuances, subtleties and underlying messages can come through very differently when written by different people. after all, our life journeys are all personal, which is a factor influencing the way we convey messages across through the written word.

and... that's it for now! i really hope that this helps. honestly, i'm scratching the surface here, and there are lots more i can talk about when i have more braincells >_<

feel free to drop any other requests or questions in my ask if you'd like ♡

[sickficideas]

omg maybelle im so sorry to hear that youre going through it … my liege we love you !!! i am also going through it, i feel you, we can be in these trenches together. may i offer you some assorted chronic pain hcs in the meantime:

atsushi is my chronic pain PRINCESS, especially his leg/knee because he is ALWAYS GETTING HIS LEG CUT OFF /STABBED / ETC WTF !! So i think he has one bad/weak knee (i dont remember which it is in the anime but i like to think its the left 1 bc thats My bad leg) and he sometimes has to wear a knee brace on bad pain days. i feel like everyone in the ada office slowly starts to clock in on when atsushi’s doing bad even just by how he walks in the door, cos even tho he tries to hide it he unconsciously shifts his weight around depending on his pain that day. so i think they do little things for him— bringing his papers to his desk rather than having him get up, trying to only send him on errands to single-story buildings/buildings with elevators and so on. i love the ada family that is always shifting just so how it functions to accommodate for the people within ❤️

chuuya is also my chronic pain princess but more full-body… ive always imagined that the genetic testing and experimentation fucked him UP along with being in a body that wasn’t meant to have an ability. so i think chuuya has all different joints that get achey all the time and hes just learnt to compartmentalize that shooting pain until he gets a chance to sit down in his office for a while. my poor overworked little meow meow. i think he also uses his ability to try to make it better! to take weight off of specific joints when hes walking/moving so that its less painful. and this is just One facet of my literal list of post corruption chuuya hcs do NOT get me started

i also feel similarly about sigma what with the not being a natural human, so i think sigma’s body just. Is Wrong sometimes, like it remembers that it wasn’t really supposed to exist. he’ll crack his neck or his back and then have to do it a couple more times until something clicks back into place. i also think sigma has bad eyesight… projecting glasses onto him too. in my mind ever member of kunichuusigzai needs glasses to some degree dazai just never wears his because he cant be assed and chuuya only wears his in the office.

other characters i have less developed chronic pain hcs about but like i Know they have it are poe, mushitaro and both of the akutagawas… ryuu especially though of course like ofc he always has chest pain that branches out to his back and neck and shoulders. of COURSE!!

ANYWAYS OMG IM SO SORRY FOR YAPPING SO MUCH ive just been brewing these thoughts for a while LOL i hope u feel better soon maybelle 🌼🌼🌼🌼 faithfully yours @s2reason-living

THESE ARE SO GOOD!!!! I'm so sorry it took me a while to get to these but they're so good and I love getting love headcanon messages from other people this is beautiful....

I am mentally adopting the Atsushi bad left knee headcanon....it makes so much sense and I love the idea of it being like quietly noticed by others and they help accommodate him 💖 and Chuuya😭😭😭 post corruption Chuuya has incredible potential I loved everything you mentioned and I love the idea of it getting worse over time....my poor sweet prince

Sigmas body being Different makes so much sense too and the bad eyesight HARD AGREE !! He has no idea for a long time until Dazai points out he needs glasses and he's like what??? When we finally gets a pair his life is changed...and don't get me started on chronlc pain Akutagawa AHHHGHH you're so genius from chest pain yes....my poor baby

[silverskye13]

can i ask how you get the motivation to write? ive been writing for most of my life but i have such a hard time sticking with it

Honestly it just comes from the overwhelming desire to create. In a perfect world, I would rather animate or make comics, but my life is short on time, so I write instead. I can take my fic with me everywhere, squeezing in writing time while in lines or alone in the office or whatever. It's versatile.

For long projects specifically, it helps to have a plan. You don't have to outline everything [though I know people who do that]. Knowing you have a premise and a major climax somewhere is sufficient. The premise is interesting to you, the major climax is the very cool finish line you want to cross. Setting that goal of "write until you write the thing you desperately want to write" keeps me going. It's why I write chronologically instead of cherry picking scenes I have ideas for and then filling in the blanks later. I treat those scenes like they're dessert. You want it? Work for it :3 not to say cherry picking is a bad thing. I know plenty of people it works for. I just know myself, and if I give myself the fun payoff when I want it, I won't slog through the rest.

In the shorter term other things that help:

Making music playlists or mood boards or whatever. Give your brain a reason to keep picking at the story outside of the story context. Make it fun to work on. Don't feel like writing but don't want to forget you have a project? Add songs to the playlist, look up photos for setting inspiration, make a Tumblr tag for quotes. It has the added bonus of helping your story along, and giving you a reason to make the world and characters better.

Don't be afraid to drop it. Like, seriously. I know this whole post is about motivation, but nothing kills a project more than getting insanely guilty about said project. You're allowed to take days, weeks, months, years to rest on a project. Just because you put it down doesn't mean it'll stay down, and agonizing over putting it down will just ensure it's harder to pick up again. If you're staring at a project and you would rather do literally anything but work on it, don't work on it.

Uhm, counter to that, if it's been awhile and you're scared to start again? Just write gibberish. I have a section on every large document called "cut pieces" where I slam out the most dogshit writing and after I get warmed up, I cut it and put it at the bottom of the doc. For two reasons. The first being you've got the swing of things so you can get rid of all the practice you did getting to that point. The second being it might not be as bad as you think it is. Someday you're gonna remember that dialogue, and you're going to want to salvage it.

Keep aids handy! Especially for things that bring you trouble. For me it's descriptions. I love descriptions, but I often have trouble thinking up good ones or I have something specific in mind I can't nail down, or I've been staring at a wall for an hour trying to think of a good way to describe clouds and I can't. So I keep a description document, full of descriptions from books I've read or previous ones I've written, that I can use as a jumping off point. It speeds things up, keeps me from dithering on something stupid, and sometimes someone already described the perfect cloud, yanno? [As before so again, if anyone wants my description document, feel free to ask. It's massive and it's organized.]

Never stop at the end of a chapter. Well, you can stop at the end of a chapter sometimes it's 2am and you just wanna write [Chapter 11] on the header and go to bed. But normally I like to keep writing a few more paragraphs? So when I start [Chapter 11] I'm not staring at a blank page. Blank pages will always win a staring context. Put an I there so it blinks instead.

Change your document color. Like the paper color? White is so mean sometimes. My screen is black with white text. Other writers I know swear by lavender or green. White is just so hard to break man there's just something about it.

Last one but, keep reading. Like, why do you want to write? Because you want to tell a story sure, but why do you want to tell a story? Well, probably because you read a good one somewhere, and you want to give other people that "I read a good story" feeling. So keep reading. One of the most motivating things you can do is remind yourself why you're slaving over a hot keyboard.

.... And this got very long sorry :'D

Hope this? Helps?

[antichristual]

a small fic request: some fluff about Papa IV. pairing can be reader insert / one of the ghouls / OC or platonic relationship is okay, too. maybe a birthday fic would be nice...? 😊 thank you in advance if you will write this 🧡

HELLO ANON🫂 !!! this is my first time doing this, im squealing over the fact that people actually sent in requests..literally so sorry it took me so long to post this, i wrote it like two days after you sent this in and then i just never posted it cuz i didnt like it at the time, i think it okay now though, so here you go! also im not sure if this was for your birthday, but if it is then happy birthday :3 most likely very late

You had been part of the ministry for years now, working alongside Sister Imperator, making sure all of the pieces of the tours stayed on track. Keeping them all together was hard work, and it had slowly taken a toll on you. Sometimes the looming idea of another long day amongst ratty organisers felt like carrying a bag of bricks on your shoulders. You were some hardy earthen clay, but this much going on in your head was a hydraulic press.

It had been a rough day, Sister had said it herself as she sipped on a random cup of coffee she had laying across your planning table. You didn’t know how she did it, keeping all of it in and still making such a wonderful outcome. She had kept you in late today, for some odd reason. All the work was done, you’d already stacked all the maps and papers and booking files for the next tour together in one, intimidating pile. Every time you tried to leave though, she would call you back to look over very random things.

“How does this email look? I want it to be perfect.” Sister Imperator mumbled timidly, with a strangely still smile, like she was keeping a terrible secret to herself. Everybody knew she had the most pristine email skills in the world. It should’ve been criminal how that woman could get anyone under her thumbs with the click of send or a meek phone call. Of course though, you nodded and returned to the table. Leaning down, you ignored the crimp ache in your back and read through the— as expected— incredibly well written message. It was condensed but not lacking what it needed. Simple, quick, effective. That was how she rolled, and she executed it with a clean cut every time.

“It’s…fine, Sister.” You replied after a quick pause, holding a heavy drawl in your voice. It was your birthday, for hell’s sake, and all you’d done all day was work. Your eyes hurt, your spine feels twisted and damn…how does your right leg go half numb? Don’t get it wrong, you loved your job; and you didn’t blame anyone for having you labour on your special day. You were just tired, and yearning for your comforting bed in the abbey.

Sister Imperator closed her laptop with a swift hand, the screen coming down across the keyboard silently. A look of sympathy flashed in her eyes, followed with a sparkle of guilt, almost as if she were hiding something from you. “I’m sorry for keeping you in, you know how this gets.” Her hand waved sluggishly over the table. Following her gesture you pondered over her words, eyes fogging over briefly.

“I do, Sister. It’s not a problem. Um…” You looked sideways hesitantly, your bag hanging limp over your shoulder. “Is that all?”

She opened her mouth quickly to say something, and your knees drew somehow more magnetically drawn to the floor at the idea of her proposing another task. In a split moment, her lips sealed.

Sister’s eyes dashed to the doorway behind you, and a riveting smile dashed across her face. Satan, she looked so excited you half assumed you’d turn around and see the anti-christ himself waltzing in with a pretty bouquet of wild roses. Your feet dragged against the floor as you spun to face the door. You were seriously contemplating popping out to go to the store, and maybe grabbing a nice treat so you could at least get yourself something nice on your day. Almost immediately— after your sleepy head processed the sight in the doorway— a sweet warmth bubbled in your chest.

Copia stood there in his usual zip-up jumper, lazy sweatpants underneath, and the most gorgeously handmade cake ever in his palms. Weakly lit candles burned in the middle, lighting up the cute piped icing around the edge. You swayed on your feet with the soft mellow melting down your heavy limbs.

“Happy birthday!” He blurted awkwardly, removing one hand..dangerously..from the cake to make jazz hands…jazz hand? You just stood there, eyes wide and fatigued, a pure smile tugging helplessly at your lips. Copia shuffled forward to put the small cake on the table before he shucked his hands to his hips, a little proud expression over his usual.

[realmermaid333]

Since you had this cute #me me me ask me tag 😉

From : https://www.tumblr.com/realmermaid333/732493238177562624/im-bored-and-anxious-so-i-slapped-together-a-list

5, 6, 18, 25, 27

hehehe <3

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

there are some wyler fic ideas I have had that I don't know if/when I'll write them as I have lost some interest in writing for wyler. I have two multichaps I am finishing, then I will likely not start any new wyler content for a while as I will move onto other things! (not forever). I had some smut ideas that will not happen at least for a long time, and I had some au's that I don't know if i'll ever write

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

a lot of the fics that i re-read or want to re-read are bookmarked on my ao3 hehe. but i do tend to re-read a lot of @suchaladyy 's fics, and I want to re-read private tutor by @ourdramaqueen . though recently ive been doing more paper book reading than fanfic reading. i have a little list of fics to get through though haha.

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

hmmm this is really hard. this isn't just one line LOL. more like a few paragraphs, but this is the first thing that came to mind though I know there is something else i may prefer more but cant remember.

"Wednesday wondered if there were any other loners staring at the moon like she was. If there was someone else watching the sky from their window, grappling with a famine they didn’t understand. A hunger for something they couldn’t quite put their finger on. She wondered if she’d ever meet someone who mirrored her. Her eyes felt funny. 

Just then, Wednesday shut down her musings faster than a viper could strike a mouse. She would not allow herself to stoop to such a feeble level that she teared up over solitude. Wednesday was exactly where she belonged. 

She took a deep breath, then returned her fingers to the typewriter keys."

this is from my fic forlorn.

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?

yes LOL. I have cried while writing a burning hill, and while writing don't let go of me, azaleas and mockingjays, and i think forlorn as well. i am very sensitive lol

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

yes, I was very nervous to post a burning hill for the first time because I didn't want people to misunderstand it or judge me for how dark it is. and people did. which has been fine, not everyone is going to get what you write, but I didn't want people to make shitty little comments. and I did sadly get some of those, but most people have been lovely and have appreciated the fic. I was also nervous when I posted my first very smutty piece rough day. but it was fine hehe

thank you for your questions :D this is fun!

[quietwingsinthesky]

for the fic writer asks!!

5, 9, 13, 15, 29?

hi hi aayo!!

[questions were here]

5. So, a while back, I was spitballing with my friends about Pokemon Black/White & the sequel, because I love those games, those are my childhood Pokemon games, and the story is so close to brilliant I can taste it. It would just need a little touching up, I swear, adjust a motivation here, add some more scenes there... But see the thing is, doing that would take. A While. and I just don't think I have the patience to do a full rewrite of a Pokemon game from 2010 so it'll probably remain an idea.

9. Yes! I do! I try to do a few hundred words a day, every day. Depending on how bad my depression is, I can be pretty consistent about it and get a lot done. And I did manage to do a little today for that nsfw lucifer/raphael fic I'm working on! Let's see here. Ahem. "Waiting, a front of perfect obedience betrayed by how hard he’s clenching his hands together behind his back to keep from touching himself." :) I am. doing things. to luci.

13. It depends on the fic. Some of them, I want to say Last Call and could have been anyone, anyone are good examples, start writing themselves in my head with absolutely no warning, and I have to jump to the nearest thing to jot down the sentences before they disappear forever. Others, like Honey, Don't Feed It, have literally been turned over in my brain for more than a year, twisted and changed until I've gotten a fic I actually like out of it.

15. Sometimes it's a song title, sometimes it's a line from the fic, sometimes it's 'it is 4am when im posting it and ive already typed up the fucking tags and the summary and i am so so tired whats the closest noun i can think of' and then i slap it on there and call it a day.

29. asjklajdksld my first thought was 'oh you know what fine i'll post what i had of that samifer fic before it gets deleted but uh It Is Literally Entirely Porn. so lets. lets go with something a little more PG, yeah? Not exactly polite of me to throw smut at you without asking.

So instead, have this bit from the original draft of my next Sarah/Lucifer/Nick fic that got cut because I switched the pov character from Sarah to Nick for. Reasons.

Sarah has had a lot more time to paint in the last few months. Enough that muscle memory she thought lost has slowly reappeared, making her hand steadier. Her art hasn’t become more neat as a result, but it has grown purpose in its mess. Her mother always wished she’d take after her grandmother and paint lush green forests and pretty meadows, but Sarah’s brushes led her down a different path. Intricate strokes litter the paper, testing to see how close she can bring the painting to the being curled around her spine before it devolves into a jumbled mess. Lucifer is not an easy muse. Sarah hasn’t managed to paint a piece that does her justice yet.

This one is barely recognizable as anything, more abstract than Sarah’s committed to in a long time. A lot of her paintings of Lucifer start somewhere she understands, with Nick’s face or her own, fragmented to better show the angel that lives inside them, openings in the skin like bloodless wounds through which eyes and feathers and teeth peek through. Someone else might find them terrifying. Nick thinks her paintings of Lucifer are beautiful. Lucifer, of course, is flattered and amused. She watches Sarah paint, enthralled the same way Nick mentioned her being the day he built Teddy’s crib. She hasn’t asked for a turn at the brushes yet, but Sarah hopes she does one day, if only so they can see what she’s capable of creating.

Sarah stretches. There’s no satisfying pop to her spine as she uncurls from her art, but in exchange, there’s also no lingering soreness from staying in one position for too long. Lucifer’s grace pulses, buried somewhere deep, utterly content. Sarah shuts her eyes as though she could listen to her.

Instead, Sarah hears a cry from the other room. She lets her head tilt towards the clock on the wall. It’s been a while since she put Teddy down for a nap. Lucifer is on alert the moment the sound hits Sarah’s ears. She’s still not used to the simple fact that sometimes, babies cry, and it doesn’t mean the world is about to end. Impossible to fathom wings flex under Sarah’s skin. Sarah suppresses a chuckle into a small smile and sets her paintbrush down. It rolls to join its brethren of various sizes, the only commonality between them all the teethmarks at the tip where Sarah chewed when she got frustrated or distracted. Lucifer’s wings flap, a wave of power rolling through Sarah’s body that’s asking one question, whether they can fly to the nursery rather than take the minute long walk there. Sarah lets her consent echo back through Lucifer, bracing herself.

Flight is a cacophony. Flight is like learning what it is to be a photon and forgetting again as her body hits the ground, human toes curling against the fuzz of the nursery carpet. Lucifer recovers like they’ve taken a brisk walk up the stairs. Sarah needs a minute more, as though she’s been thrown under the waves at the beach and needs to figure out which direction is up in order to stand. In his crib, Teddy turns his head to look at them, brown eyes seeking his mother, and when he knows she’s there to hear him, he scrunches up his face and starts crying again.

It’s Lucifer that takes them the first few steps to the crib, but Sarah who reaches down and picks Teddy up.

“Hey, hey, fussy,” she says softly to him, “shh, we’re here now.” Teddy cries out one more time, like he’s making sure she’s not going to put him down and leave once he’s quiet. Sarah rocks him.

“We’re here,” comes another voice from her mouth, still hesitant but less than it has been in a few months. Lucifer raises Sarah’s hand to pet a line down Teddy’s forehead. There’s no more than the ambient hum of her grace beneath Sarah’s skin, but between being held by his mother and watched over by his guardian devil, (Sarah’s mouth curls at the thought, and she can’t tell if it’s her or Lucifer reacting.) he quiets. He keeps frowning, scrunched up eyes and a wrinkled forehead. “Hello, Theodore,” Lucifer says, and it’s at Sarah’s prodding that she finally says, “Teddy.”

He’s a baby, Sarah teases, no need to be so formal.

Names mean something, comes the quick counter.

And this one means you love him. Lucifer hums, finger still drifting in absent circles over Teddy’s face. Teddy latches onto it when it’s near his mouth, and Lucifer freezes. Sarah laughs, and with control of her body falling back to her, it comes out without a care in the world. Teddy makes a frustrated noise when she pulls her finger away.

“That’s better than you needing a diaper change,” Sarah tells him. Teddy babbles at her, sounds that are beginning to have more distinct shapes but mean nothing at all. She’s going to have to put him back down to undo her button-up, or would have to, only Lucifer proves for the hundredth time how much easier parenting is with divine power backing them up. Sarah shifts Teddy around in her arms, enduring the tiny beat of an impatient hand against her chest, until she has him comfortably settled to feed.

He seems so small in her arms. He’s growing fast and will continue to for years and years, a prospect both terrifying and exciting.

It’s a short enough walk to her and Nick’s bedroom from the nursery, and she’s careful not to jostle Teddy while he nurses. There, she can settle down comfortably against the pillows, the blankets tucking themselves up around her legs despite her not reaching for them. It doesn’t do much against the ever-present chill, but Sarah doesn’t want that to go away. Besides, they bundle Teddy up warmly enough.

She does wonder sometimes what it’ll be like as he gets older. If his first words will be ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ or something else entirely, a string of syllables that seem like gibberish to her and Nick but mimic the language that Lucifer sometimes speaks to him off-handedly, the one that makes Sarah’s ears feel like they might pop from pressure if she listens for too long, the one that Teddy reacts to with kicking feet and responsive babbling. If one day Sarah will get teachers telling her about Teddy’s imaginary angelic friend who raised him, both those impressed that he could come up with something so elaborate and those worried that the angel in question is Lucifer herself. Maybe the funniest thing Sarah can imagine is if Nick ever takes little Teddy to church and what kind of menace they might unleash with a child who loves the devil like a mother. That, if it ever happens, is a long ways off, and until then, Lucifer is still the secret held between the three of them.

“You think he’ll still like me,” Lucifer says, dipping her hand into the stream of Sarah’s thoughts, welcomed but nibbled at by the fish that think she really should have asked permission first. Maybe a little hypocritical when Sarah has already let her in, “when he grows up.”

There is, always, this expectation of rejection that lingers in Lucifer’s words. A surprise when she finds connection instead that breaks Sarah’s heart.

“You look after him. You sing to him. You feed him.” Sarah looks down at Teddy, who takes his fill and rests his tiny fist against her skin. This caretaking is a communal effort, after all. “Of course he’ll love you.”

[candymonic]

I’ve been really struggling lately thinking about if I’m autistic or if the things I think are signs of autism are my social anxiety and/or adhd.

I need help. I don’t understand how to even look for more information that could help me. Ive read articles that somewhat make me think ‘oh maybe there’s merit in those idea’ but I just can’t find anything comprehensive in words that I can understand that also considers that I have other things that could be causing what I think is autism symptoms.

What if I’ve been masking so hard my entire life neither the people around me or myself noticed anything was wrong? I literally don’t remember most of my life so I don’t even have a reliable source on what I was feeling as a kid. I don’t think I would have talked about what I was feeling if I did feel something. But I don’t know if I did.

I’m very touch sensitive. I can’t wear certain fabrics. Touching something slimey makes me want to cry. I can’t clean up powder because the way it feels through the wet paper towel makes my skin crawl. I also hate wet paper towels. I need thick-ish drinks (chocolate milks) to swallow pills as in swallowing pills with water can make me physically recoil (but also I have a *microscopic* mouth so that could explain that one?). I’m extremely particular about food textures. I can’t eat Brussels sprouts, they make my throat constrict because they feel so bad in my mouth I don’t want to swallow them. That could just be my mom’s cooking being bland as hell though.

I’m sensitive to sound. I can’t be in loud places, it makes me anxious. A little distressed. I have misophonia. I can’t listen to people chewing or swallowing or breathing in my ear, it makes my skin crawl. Now misophonia could be an adhd thing but it’s so bad that I have to wear headphones (not earbuds or I would hear my own chewing, which isn’t *as* bad but still not great) *and* have music in the background when I eat dinner with people.

Sometimes when I’m overwhelmed and tired, I shut down. It becomes very hard to speak, not impossible but I have to charge up my voice in order to get anything out and it’s very mouse-ish. Quiet and meek and mumbly. I become extremely sensitive in this state, no one could touch me or i would want to cry, every sound is louder and makes me jump, even my taste is different. My emotions slow down to protect myself from feeling any more overwhelmed. I saw my brother for the first time in maybe a year when I was in this state and I couldn’t even be properly excited about it. I had to recharge, something that took at least an hour.

I need a lot of time to myself. I am hesitant to go out and do things with people because the only thing I usually do is be by myself (change in routine).

I obsess over things for months to years at a time. I try to learn everything I can about that thing. I love talking to people about what I know. I love learning about what other people know.

And it’s so fucking hard to find information on how this can show in adults because for some reason adhd and autism is talked about like only children have it.

Maybe I’ll feel different once I get into college, but it’d be useful to know this about myself, yknow?

[multistansimp4life]

We lost the summer ch.1

Kai and reader are childhood friends and they have this thing where they make a list of things to do for their summers during the school year. How will this summer end!

(Inspired by kissing booth 3)

“I wilL alwAys love yOu”

“Stop stop no more, please my ears” says the brunette laying on the bed with his ears covered. “Maybe you should put singing lessons on the list” he finishes laughing so hard tears are running down his face. 

“Well im sorry not everybody is as gifted at singing as you are” you replied rolling  your eyes. It was true his voice is one of the most clearest most angelic voices youve ever heard. But your singing was the exact opposite your voice always cracked and you couldnt hit a right not to save your life.  

“But how will we do that together” you asked

The list you were talking about is The summer To Do list. You guys made it when you were in third grade and kept the ‘tradition’ since. During the school year yall would fill the list up with a bunch of things you both wanted to do when summer came.

“I could still improve my singing so i can sign up to” kai responded now looking at his phone.

“But we would most definetly be seperated into different classes”

“Yea I guess your right that wouldnt work” he sighed. 

“I have an idea” you say excitedly “ ive always wanted to try acting class”

“That does sounds fun. Write it down.”

You grab the orange sharpie and wrote the number 1. Acting classes. The paper is like a long scroll and looks as ancient as one. You write down the year of the summer leave a space under it for when summer is over to name the summer. Then yall write down the list.

“Lets think of some more things another day.” Says kai yawning. I look over to the clock not noticing how much time has passed its now 11:37 and we both have school tommorow. 

“Ok ill head home goodnight kai “ i say while collecting my stuff to leave. 

“Bye y/n get home safe”

The walk home is like a routine. You live on the same street as kai and the amount of times youve walked to and from his house is to many to even try and count.

When you walk into the house you can hear your parents talking, well more like arguing but in a light voice. You just hope it stays that quiet and you can get some rest. Though its highly unlikely because their arguments always get loud and you barely can rest.

You walk into your room and flick on the lights. Your room was in pretty nice shape since you cleaned just a few days ago.

You go and flop on your bed and almost immediatly fall asleep. There was no need to change since you went to kais in your pajamas. 

“CRASH”. You were suddenly woke up by something fragile hitting the ground. You looked at the time and it was 12:06 you barely got 30 minutes of sleep. You dont know what you were expecting it happens almost every night for the past few months. 

Your parents have both been fighting with each other over every little thing and it was not healthy. You used to not be able to sleep at night because they were so loud but it started happening so often that you invested in some earbuds. 

It was pointless of you to go tell them to quiet down because then you would get yelled at by both of them. So eventually you stopped. 

You reached over in your nightstand and take them out and plug them, hoping you would get enough sleep to be ready for tommorow.

(a/n This is my first fanfic and if you like it pls comment. It helps motivate. Also dont know the update scheduling.)

[potentialtomato]

Getting somewhere

It finally feels like I may be coming into some serious artist purpose. I think up until now I have really been creating with a loose understanding of why I do, and usually just trying to copy the astethics of what I liked. Illustrative, stylistic and surreal Illustration, with elegant line variation and play with color (usally of natural scenes).

This year how ever I have understood that art is a necessary meditation for me. something to focus on and an excuse to sit in a moment, making it so where ever I go, I have something to do. But Ive always struggled with what my art "means" what it "contributes" how to talk about it is a passionate way that is required to get grants or residencies. It is also difficult because I find it hard to do any self motivated project. Unless someone has directly requested it or I am sure it will improve my standing with someone I don't usually seriously create (besides small drawing in my sketch book).

I've also had in the back of my mind the truth that is how the world is made sence of through art. This has quelled my feelings of guilt when ever I think about how selfish it is to spend so much time creating. But It has never really worked, and i realize now that is because Ive never really been creating with a large concept I am trying to process my feelings/understanding of. So what do I want to unpack? what beauty am I drawn to. what has always calmed me down when the existential parts of the world are literally warped in my brain. The idea of being insignificant, in a good way. That nature keeps moving despite anything I do. Vasts amounts of stories and textures and chemical reactions, weather, layering, growth, decay is all happening all of the time, and is beautiful. I thing thats why i'm always drawn to the idea of entropy, I like referring to my self and and unstoppable energy. The appreciation and attention to all the small parts that put together the bigger picture.

This also clicks with my recent success in creating paper with recycled scraps and natural materials (flowers, tomatoes, cacou beans). At first when my mind was just on sales the paper i was making seemed inadequate and a waste of time. I didn't have the right materials / know how to make a consistent, art material grade piece. It was to bumpy, thin, or had holes in it. Though Ive gotten better some of those problems still stand. buuuuuuuuuut, Ive been dreaming of sewing the pieces together and painting/ drawing something on them like a canvas. this would mean I would succeeded in making my own art materials, and would even provide and extra layer of texture that Im always trying to create in my work. not to mention it feels reassuring to know that just because i'm not working in a professional studio that I am not gate kept from learning and being a part of the natural dyes and fibers art community.

This was a long one, but it feels really nice to finally feel justified in spending all of this time in my life on art and design. And I have to acknowledged how important it was to watch and be exposed to my friends in other mediums (mostly music and film) as they forge ahead with a vision.

[sheprzia]

Ive learned that you really gotta sit there and try to comfort yourself and learn to deal with things on your own- not because you aren't deserving of help or because someone shouldn't help you through hard times but because people suck.

Theyll pull this tough love bs not realizing what a complete and utter cunt they look like when you are clearly going through a lot and have probably explained that many times.

It would probably be fine, maybe even meaningful out of a stranger but coming from someone you love and trust? It just feels like an attack.

It is a breach of understanding. It shows that they don't know you, they don't understand you. They will not give you what you ask for because they think they know better than you.

Don't waste your time. Don't sit there and try to explain that their advice won't help your situation because xyz- otherwise they'll just get mad and tell you you're ungrateful.

Just comfort yourself. Be there for yourself. Be your own friend because you can't truly know anyone on this earth.

(more ⬇️ )

Come to grips with the fact that at the end of the day you may only be left with your self and that has to be enough.

I've hated myself since day one of my life but I had no reason to. It was because of the way I was treated. The way I was shamed and looked down upon. Gum on the buttom of their shoe.

I even got beat up on the bus as a kid. A girl came up out of nowhere while kids were throwing 🧀 in my hair and starting punching me in the face and just- beating the shit out of me.

I screamed for help but none came.

She beat my ass to my bus stop.

And what for? To this day I have no idea.

People have always been abusive towards me.

But that is no reason why I should look inwards when I know I have spent every waking moment trying to be kind and good because I believe that's the way people should be and I have been through TOO MUCH to consciously inflict pain on others.

I could talk for hours. I used to be quite the writer as a kid. And when my mom got mad I would write her letters soaked in tears- and when I stopped being able to cry because of the stress and truama I started dabbing it with spit.

She ripped up the letters. The apologies. All of it and I lost my ability to write my feelings on paper. I can't even keep a journal. I just feel dread when I try.

Though maybe that's for the best given how mentally ill I am. Don't need a paper trail...

I'm sure you get if you're still reading that I'm going through it. I've been jerked around too much. I spent my entire life doing my best while many times actively trying to 🛑 living.

If you're going through it too I want you to know no matter how small you think your problems are or how big, it's okay. You don't need to keep asking yourself if the way you feel is valid. You are.

You're not alone either. I've been through almost everything under the sun. If you ever need to reach out I'll reply. I promise I will. If it takes some time it's because my app and Internet is stupid but I will listen.

Anyways. Thanks for listening to me go on.

Therapy doesn't do shit for me but I feel sharing my story does some how.

[dogboytits]

3 (but more overall what inspires you to make ocs) and 11 for the oc asks ^-^

3. What inspires you to make ocs?

HMMM this one is kinda interesting bc its kinda hard for me to place where a lot of my ideas come form? maybe kinda weird to say but i think most of my ocs tend to make themselves, in terms of personality and stuff like that. certain things just feel right for them..? i just go with the Vibes. That being said, i do also take a lot of inspiration from songs- Basil and Arkady's original story came entirely from a song, though its changed so much since then its really not the same anymore lawl. I'm also pretty inspired by pre existing characters!! like, other peoples ocs for looks, or characters from media i like for dynamics and personality

11. Which character has been through the most design changes?

Molly!!

She used to look a lot like Delta bc i didnt know how to draw in 2016/2017 LOL. But obvi as i got better i didnt like her design anymore since she looked so similar to Delta, but i had such a difficult time getting a design that i liked, and that fit my idea of her. I didnt draw her often but every time i did it looked completely different, until i settled on her current design in June :D Her name also used to be Fraiçica lol.. but i hated it so i changed it after a lot of going back and forth

Thank u so much for sending the ask !!! i love talking abt my funny little guys <3

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 22

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As always, beta-read by��@alittlewhump <3

CW: BBU, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Explicit language. Surgical/medical whump and subsequent side effects and trauma. Victim self-blaming. Blood, IV mention, vomiting/emeto. Hospital setting.

He came to with a cry that tore all the air from his lungs and had him sucking in the next breath like he was coming up from diving all the way to the bottom of the pool. 

Or maybe he’d been dreaming of it.  

Sinking down, down, down, into the deep end. 

Water enveloping him. 

Pressure grounding him in his own skin. 

Until it felt possible that before, above the surface, he’d been at risk of slipping or falling free and hadn’t even realized it. As if, in the air, the anatomy was simply too subtle, too delicate. 

Down here there was no question of what was him. 

No separation, no feeling of extra space between the layers of tissue. No doubt that this was his place to belong, his span, reach, home, fingers and toes. 

How had he ever managed to stay in one piece before without being held together so tightly?

The next lungful of air came out in sobs.

Now he’d done it. 

Stupid head and memories and mind of no bounds or control.

He should keep calm and quiet.

Harrison wasn’t there. 

Yet. 

Leo could only be so patient. 

Leo. He was sitting in a chair beside the bed, watching. Hands resting on the arms of his chair. 

Aiden held his breath, searching Leo’s face. 

Had he been wrong before? Had he been dreaming before? 

“Buddy—” Leo leaned forward and even though it was slow as anything, Aiden still flinched because he knew Leo was about to stand up. 

Stand up to come and get him. 

But some part of him wanted that. It was just Leo, wasn’t it? He couldn’t remember Leo putting him back in the bed, maybe he’d dreamed all of it, everything…

He wrapped his arms around himself and curled forward.

Be still and obedient. He needed to control his breathing, rasping in and out of his chest. He must have been crying but he couldn’t feel any tears. 

He would lie on the table. He would accept the restraints. 

There weren’t any now, just the gauze and bandages and whatever else underneath them that tugged on his skin. It hurt when he tried to hold himself tighter.

He’d acted so badly before. 

And he couldn’t stop.

Behaviors, punishments. Actions, consequences. 

Awareness made it worse. 

Made him feel even less like he had any choice or control because maybe he really did.

Maybe always had. 

And all along he’d only ever been asking for it. 

Hadn’t he? 

His whole life he’d been the type to just bite the bullet.

It’d been the same at home, the same at practice, the same during training.

He’d rather take one good hit and go down hard than take a whole beating because he’d tried to fight back. Headache over broken ribs. Do the painful drills to avoid running laps until he puked. 

Except when one hit sent him tumbling down the stairs. 

Except when one choice had ended his life. 

Except when he had wanted it to end, of course. 

Please let Harrison kill him right away this time or at least the—

“Aiden? Aiden.” Leo hadn’t moved but his voice sounded closer. “You’re right here with us. Look, hon. It’s me, Leo. You remember my sister, Delia. It’s just us.” He was taking pains to stay completely still as he spoke. Easy, gentle. Soft. 

But hurting. 

Maybe if Leo held him again, he’d be able to tell if he’d only imagined everything from before. He didn’t know how to ask. 

He couldn’t ask. 

Aiden bit his lips together. His back felt itchy, the rough fabric of the gown sticking in places like he’d been sweating, except that he felt a clammy chill instead. Even worse. 

Leo was still wearing a blue paper smock over his clothes. And he had on that expression where he’d just watch Aiden, wait for Aiden. 

But for what? 

Aiden wanted to writhe under that gaze. Scream under that gaze. He hated the feeling that he was being tested and had no idea what it was on. 

Didn’t he realize that Aiden would just do anything he asked? That all he wanted was for Leo to tell him. 

Tell him with words. 

Tell him with actions, consequences, punishment, pain. 

Anything. 

Please just fucking tell him. 

Neither Leo nor the doctor moved or said a word while he sat there crying. 

No control, no discipline. No idea what to do. 

They just kept testing him and he didn’t fucking know the answer. 

He reached up and tugged at the central line under his collarbone. 

It took more effort than he’d imagined and his grip was useless but he somehow managed to pull it free fast enough. Blood trickled down his chest under the starched fabric. 

“Aiden!” They both jumped to their feet at the same time. 

And then Leo stumbled back, knocking the chair against the wall before he collapsed into it.

Aiden froze, dripping tubes dangling from his fist. He hadn’t meant—he didn’t—He wanted to take it back. He should have been cooperative and good and well behaved and—

The doctor spun to catch Leo’s shoulders before he could tip forward out of the chair. “Christ, Leo!” With a grunt, she helped him to sit upright so his back was against the wall. 

He dropped a hand on her shoulder and brought the other to his forehead. “M’fine.” 

The doctor pulled a penlight out of her pocket and checked his eyes. “Bullshit. You haven’t slept and you wouldn’t take so much as a sip of water let alone anything else. With all that blood loss? Bullshit, Leo.” 

Blood loss? Had he hurt Leo? 

That hadn’t been part of the plan. He hadn’t meant to.

Why couldn’t he do anything right? 

He needed to see Leo’s face but the doctor was in his way and he was afraid of this finally being the time that Leo really was angry. 

Or maybe he’d see something else. Something worse? 

What had Aiden just done to fuck it all up?

He pulled his knees up to his chest. He wanted to hide. He should just stay still.

“Yeah, okay, okay. I’ll drink your fuckin’ orange juice,” Leo grumbled. 

She clicked her tongue. “Oh, you bet your ass you will but we’re way past just that. You’re getting an IV now.” 

A sound escaped Aiden’s throat. Something between a whimper and a gasp. He looked above his shoulder to the bag of yellow liquid hanging there. The one that had been seeping into his veins moments before. He didn’t know what that color did. 

“Aiden, sweetheart—” Leo leaned to look around her but just as soon as Aiden was able to see his eyes, he leaned back to the wall with a moan, squeezing his eyes shut. 

His chest tightened. This was his fault.  

The doctor turned, looking him up and down. “I know you’re scared. I know this is a lot.”

He wished he could disappear completely. He couldn’t even pull his legs tight enough to his chest because of his arms. 

���You’re not in any trouble. You’re doing very well.” She watched him for a beat before adding, “Leo’s going to be just fine, I promise. How about you both have some juice now? That will help you feel better.”

Somewhere inside him, he recognized the fluttering response to the reassurance, the praise, but it felt far away compared to the fear, the certainty that this would all come crashing down at any moment. 

He still didn’t fucking know how he was supposed to be.

It was confusing. She was confusing. 

He only watched her for a moment as she crossed to a table with a few bags on it and started rustling. He didn’t want to hear the sounds he recognized.

After the crinkle of sterile packaging always came the clang of surgical steel. 

Of that, he was certain at least. 

Leo still had his eyes closed, hands gripping the arms of his chair.  

Aiden bit his cheek. He wanted to apologize but he knew that would only make things worse. 

But hadn’t he wanted to make things worse? 

He was so terrible. 

Harrison should come skin him alive. 

He could taste blood in his saliva. 

“Aiden, buddy?” Leo had managed to focus on him. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Just a little dizzy is all.” 

It looked worse than that. What had Aiden done to him?

“Mmm…mmm’sorry,” he said. He had to say something right?  His voice trembled and it was all wrong and didn’t sound remotely sincere or deserving or—

“I’ll be good as new in no time.” And Leo gave him the smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. 

Aiden tried to let it wash over him. To let that conditioned void be filled even though he knew how much more it would ache and gnaw when it was empty again.

It didn’t work. 

He didn’t deserve it anyway. 

The doctor was standing between them again and Aiden flinched when she moved toward him. He tore his eyes away from watching her gloved hands to check Leo’s reaction but he had his eyes closed like he was trying not to pass out again.

She held up a plastic bottle of orange juice with a bendy straw sticking out of it. “This one is for you…” She waited for him to take it with both shaky hands before turning. “And this one is for Leo.” 

“Cheers, kiddo,” Leo said with a weak chuckle. He lifted his juice and put the straw between his lips but then paused. 

Aiden hesitated for too long. 

Almost like he was ungrateful and wanted them to take it away. But he’d been doing that for weeks at Leo’s house and Leo never did. He only ever looked disappointed. Aiden didn’t think he could face that now. Not with how guilty he felt for everything he’d done, for being such a complete failure, for whatever was wrong with Leo that was most certainly his fault indirectly (but probably directly).

He caught the straw and took huge sips, draining the juice in just a few gulps. That earned him a smile from Leo, who started drinking his own, and raised eyebrows from the doctor.

Aiden tried to relax a little but his arms were starting to hurt even more which made him wonder if for some reason they had been giving him painkillers. He didn’t want to think about the IV again. 

“You look better already,” the doctor said to Leo. “See? There’s a reason they give blood donors snacks. And that’s when it’s not done in a moving vehicle.”

The orange juice turned sour in his stomach. 

Blood donors? 

The heart monitor hammered insistently against his thoughts. 

Faster, faster, faster. 

His mind couldn’t be trusted. 

There was no way he was understanding any of this correctly. 

He was just wrong. 

He was all wrong. 

Whatever the doctor said next, he didn’t catch.

Leo stood to pull his arms out of the gown and shrug off his sweatshirt before sitting back down. 

And there it was. 

A square of gauze taped to the inside of his elbow.

Leo noticed his face and followed his gaze to the site in question. Where the blood had flowed out of his artery and into Aiden’s veins. “Aiden—”

He didn’t get to hear what Leo said next because the orange juice was coming back up. 

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[iwadori]

hii i saw ur taking requests and I wanted to ask if you could do a fic with the miya twins,suna and iwa comforting their s/o after they have a dream of them cheating on her? tysm!

Cheating Misunderstandings with the haikyu boys (Osamu,Atsumu)

Word Count:1.8K

Genre:angst,fluff

masterlist

AN: This was kind of on the lines of what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it. Also you guys will see an ‘Empress appearance’ in this work....so don’t kill me.

Osamu:

You were walking to miya onigiri ready to pick up Samu to go home

But when you got to the front door you see Osamu in the shop winding touching another girl

You couldn’t see the girl or Osamu properly because of the angle you were at

But you wouldn’t say your eyes were decieving you, so you did what you should do turn on your heel and get out of there.

You were back at your apartment and you were fuming, you were at your desk and decided that distracting yourself with your mountainous amount of paperwork that you had for your job would be better than sitting down and stewing over watching your boyfriend cheat on you.

‘How long has this been going on,’ you thought to yourself ‘Who even is she? She can’t be a worker’ since you knew everyone that worked there and the manager Empress would definitely not let a worker get with Osamu since you were besties after all.

Distracting yourself, obviously didn’t work and you sent yourself into a spiral of social stalking, trying to find this girl. Which didn’t work, as you only saw her hair and her height which was around a foot shorter than Osamu’s. ‘Stupid Osamu’ you thought, how could he do this? Why would you do this?

You wanted to cry, you were going to cry. Outside you heard a car door shut, and looking out your window you saw Osamu walking out the car with his keys in his mouth and bags (presumably food) in his hand.  

You heard some knocking, well kicking at your front door and a light shout of “Babe, can you open the door my arms our pretty full here.” You didn’t answer, you didn’t even move cause you knew if you saw his face it’ll most likely be him saying ‘Y/N im sorry, but theres someone else’ the thought alone made you cringe. You were knocked out of your thoughts with again the kicking of the door and Osamu saying with a laugh “C’mon babe all you really gonna leave a guy stranded out here, ive got your favourite too and its going to get cold”

You reluctantly opened the door, not actually greeting Osamu and just going back to your room to pack away your paper work and close your laptop. To your surprise Osamu was behind you and gave you a quick kiss to your cheek, which you would usually smile and ease into but today you cringed and quickly moved. Making Osamu look at you with a side eye.

By time he was setteled in you were sitting down at the dinner table eating, with the sound of Gordon Ramsey’s Hell Kitchen filling your awkward silence. Osamu did try to speak to you but you always just responded with “yeah,” “sure,” or “maybe.” Short simple answers that Osamu definitely didn’t like.

When dinner was over and it was the time when you two usually watched a shitty reality tv show together, you decided to go to bed early to avoid any more awkward conversation with Osamu. But before you could clamber into bed, Osamu grabs your arm saying “Y/N, what’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean Samu?” you say with a forced smile on your face even though he couldn’t see it, you just did so he didn’t see you start to tear up “nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Are you Y/N?”

“mhm” you murmured trying to shrug off his hold, you sniffled a bit (attempting to do it quietly) but he heard it.

“No y/n, what’s wrong can’t you just turn around.” The force of you pulling away and he pulling you close, left you falling onto your bed and the tears just started to fall. Osamu immediately crouched down to your eye line “whats wrong love?” he said with a tender voice.

You shook your head in response, “what’s wrong?? Please tell me Y/N.”

“Why would you do that to me?” you say your voice breaking as the tears streamed your face. Osamu started to panick seeing you cry.

“Do what Y/N, what do you mean?”

“You cheated on me? Was I not enough for you? Don’t you love me anymore.”

“Who Y/N!Who.?”

“You touched her, I saw you. I can’t believe you would do that. In public as well” you accused “How could you do that to me.”

“Y/N, baby listen I don’t know what you mean?”

“Don’t call me that Miya, you’re such a fucking liar oh my god.”

“Can you please explain to me what you’re talking about?”

“You. In the shop. I saw you, touching her” you say scowling saying the last line as if It was poisonous.

“In the shop? What do you-” a spark flashed in Osamus eyes before he stood up and started pulling you out the room “You need to come with me.”

“Miya, what are you doing? I’m not going anywhere with you.” you groaned

“Yes you are, and stopped calling me that.”  

He dragged you outside to his car and opened the door for you, standing expectedly waiting for you to get in. “Im not getting in,” you say folding your arms

“Oh yes you are. Just get in the car.”

“But im in my roblox pyjamas” you groaned again feeling like a child.

“And you still hot babe don’t worry” he said winking at you ushering you into the car “Just get in it’ll be a quick ride anyways.”

You pulled outside of onigiri miya and Osamu begin to drag you out again taken you to the office where the security cameras are. He did something on the community and pulled up a date and time which was the time you were at the store earlier.

Playing on the screen was the recording and the incident which you saw before, but this one was a differnet angle. You saw a girl walking one way and Osamu walking the over with a drink in his hand, him spilling the drink on her and cleaning her off with a paper towel. Which you thought was him groping and touching her.

Your cheeks heated up hard in embarrasment, as you realised how you acted and how you got it all wrong. You saw Osamu with a glint in his eye and smirk on his face and before he could say anything you said “Dont. Let’s get back to the car.”  

All was forgotten on your car ride home and you decided to discuss eachothers days (skipping out the ‘cheating’ part.) However after you watched you shows and finally gotten into bed, when Osamu was holding you right against his chest (so close where you could hear his heartbeat) he said, “Y/N, although we agreed to not talk about this incident...even though I will definitely be telling Empress, I just want to let you know that I will never even think about cheating on you let alone actually doing it, I love you so much that the idea of cheating is so uncomprehendable I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Love you ‘Samu, and I'm sorry for making this into a big old thing when I could’ve just asked you about it.” you say in response

“It’s okay babe,” he said kissing your forehead “It’s okay.”

Atsumu

You and Atsumu have been dating fairly recently meeting in your through your friend Empress who was the manager at Atsumu’s brother Osamu’s shop Onigiri Miya.

You’ve only been together 6 months and you’re ready to tell him that you love him

However you being the perfectionist that you are, wanted it to be perfect so of course you had to practice on friend, Empress’ boyfriend Hajime.

“Okay so go.”

“Atsumu, I think you’re a stand-up guy and you’re pretty cute can I love ya.” you said punching Iwa on the arm.

“Y/N, you can’t say that.” Empress said face palming.

“Okay, Atsumu I’ve fallen for you and I can’t get up?”

“No dad jokes Y/N.” Hajime said shaking his head

“Why theyre soo funny, what about Atsumu you’re a pain in my ass.” you said winking at Empress.

“Gosh Y/N! Take this seriously for once.” Hajime said blushing at your obvious innuendo.

“Well how did you two confess you undying love to eachother?” you asked and smiled at both their reactions, knowing that they definitely haven’t done that.

“Just say your confession Y/N,” Empress said rolling her eyes

“Okay Atsumu,” you said taking a deep breath “Ever since I met you after your brother spilt a drink on me at his shop and you tried to cheer me up with your terrible jokes I knew that you were the one for me. I love your passion, your drive your determination to make me feel better all the time even when I don’t need you too. I love being with you and I...”

Hajime looked at you expectedly, “I love you,” you said smiling “There I said it I love you!”

“Oh my gosh Y/N! That was so cute you should definitely sa-”

“What the fuck Y/N!” exclaimed a voice next to you “You love this clown.”

“Who are you calling a clown,” said Iwa squaring up to Atsumu making both you and Empress roll your eyes at the heeping testoterone filling the area.  

“Haji let’s go,” said Empress dragging her boyfriend away “and Y/N I'm pretty sure you two need to talk.”

When Hajime and Empress were an ear shot away, Atsumu looked at you with a glare. “So Y/N, is this what you’re doing now slu-”

“Don’t even go there ‘tsumu, you’re such an ass sometimes.” You say walking away “And by the way I was practicing with Iwa to say I fucking love you, you asshole.”

You already stormed off before Atsumu yelled, “Wait! You love me?”

“Of course I do you ass.” you say scowling.

Atsumu jogs over to you and says, “I love you too Y/N” he picks you up and tosses you about in the air, practically doing sommersaults, “Im so happy! Wait till I tell Osamu bout this he’s probably hasn’t told his girlfriend about this.”

“Babe, they’ve been dating for years” You said with a laugh “But go ahead ‘tsumu tell the world.”

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding things.”

“And...?”

“And I'm sorry for calling Iwa a clown, knowing he would definitely beat my ass.”

“And..?”

“And I'm sorry for being an ass.” he said with his head down.

“You are an ass Atsumu,” you said with a smile “But you’re my favourite pain in the ass.” You said winking at him making him burst out with laughter at your stupid innuedo.

Whenever Atsumu sees Osamu he tells him about how much you both love eachother, which always leads them into an argument about who has the better girlfriend and who loves their girlfriend more which always has you laughing.

AN: do you guys see the connection between the two?? Cause if you see the connection I’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER :3 Hope you guys enjoyed it, what do you guys think?

[vacant--body]

WARNINGS: Mentions of trying to unalive self, sh, loss of a child, ED if you squint, night terrors, angst, fluff at the end :)

female!reader x Bucky

Side note: i’m sorry this took so long to update, i didn’t know how to finish it skspshdjdjrjek thanks for reading :)

part 1 part 2

"Y/N, he needs to rest, okay?" Sam whispered softly. "I'll get you as soon as he wakes up."

"Why is he so dehydrated though? That's what I don't understand. " You whispered carefully, not wanting to wake Bucky up. "Has he not been taking care of himself?"

"Y/N..." Sam trailed off.

"Sam, please tell me. I’ll be okay. I'm not gonna break into a million pieces if you tell me. " You snorted, trying your best to sound optimistic.

"No, he hasn't.” Sam sighed finally. “He tried his best to hide it but it's so obvious. Everyone tried to help him, tried to get him to talk, but he refused. You know how stubborn he is."

"He can hear you." Bucky groaned, his voice hoarse. His eyes fluttered open and instantly made eye contact with Y/N. You looked good. Almost healthy. He quickly, ashamed. He busied himself, pretending to be interested with examining his body. There was two IV's sites that were pumping fluids into him, his chest covered with sticky pads (which were for EKG's) and a blood pressure cuff. Seeing all this made his head spin and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck."

"I'll go get Bruce." Sam said quietly as he left the room.

The med bay was left in silence other than the steady beeping of Bucky's heart rate on the monitor. Bucky sniffed hard and reopened his eyes, and found Y/N sitting down in the chair beside the cot, staring at him.

"Hi." You whispered. Bucky didn't respond. He didn't know how to. "I just want to say I'm so sorry I did this to you, Bucky." Your voice shook as you spoke.

"Why didn't you want to see me?" Bucky blurted out, not able to think about anything else but that.

"It wasn't my idea. My doctors said it was for our best interest that we stayed away from each other."

"Best interest." Bucky echoed.

"Please understand I fought him on it almost every day while I was there. I wanted to see you, to tell you how sorry I was and how this wasn't your fault." You played with the frayed edges of your cardigan.

"Well I'm glad you got the help you needed." Bucky said, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. Y/N scoffed and leaned back into the chair.

"Don't play that game, Bucky. That place wasn't a fucking vacation, it was hell." You paused and licked your dry lips. "It was hell." Bucky winced at how hurt you sounded.

"I'm sorry." He lulled his head to the side, his eyes falling on you. "I just-"

"It's okay. You're allowed to be angry." You whispered as you touched his hand. He flinched at the contact. "I meant what I said, Bucky." You whispered again, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"And what's that?" He whispered back. You watched as his chest rose and fell heavily.

"That I-"

"Well look who's awake!" Bruce smiled as the door to the med bay swung open. Bucky and Y/N jumped apart. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Bucky grumbled, annoyed at the intrusion. Banner picked up some paper that was sitting on the table behind him.

"Hmmm, that's not what your labs say." Banner retorted. "You're severely dehydrated, Buck. What have you been eating and drinking?"

"When I can? Chicken broth."

"And when's the last time you ate anything?"

Bucky paused, looking at Y/N. Would it upset you if he told Bruce the truth?

"Last week." He muttered looking away.

"And how often have you been throwing up?"

"Every day, sometimes more than once." Bucky said. Y/N winced at what he was saying. Did you cause this? Was it your fault Bucky was so sick?

"I'm surprised you've been able to go on this long. I suppose that's the super solider serum doing it’s magic." Banner cleared his throat. "If you can't keep anything down, you're gonna have to come in for IV fluids once a day."

"Whatever you say, doc." Bucky snorted. Yeah, fuck that. He didn’t care.

"Don't worry Bruce, I'll make sure he's here." Y/N patted Bucky on the shoulder, winking at him.

"That's what I'm hoping for." Banner clapped his hands together. "Okay, I'll leave you two kids alone then. I'm sure there's a lot you need to talk about."

"I'm 106, Banner." Bucky called after him as he walked out the door. Y/N chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand. "Have you talked to Steve?" He asked as soon as Banner was gone.

"Yeah. He visited almost every day." You responded. Bucky felt a twinge of jealousy rise from the pit of his stomach. "I told him everything, Bucky. About how we had sex, about how I was pregnant, and how I didn't love him the same way he had loved me." Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at her words, not wanting to hear what she had to say.

“And how’d he take that?”

“He was hurt.” Y/N said simply. “I mean I was expecting him to be. We spent 6 months flirting and having sex. I just couldn’t keep it up anymore, I couldn’t keep that from him.”

“Oh.” Bucky muttered quietly. The two of you were silent, not sure what to say. Y/N took a deep breath, the air rattling in her chest as she reached out with a shaky hand to grab Buckys.

"I never meant to hurt our baby, Bucky." Y/N hiccupped back a sob, squeezing his hand tight. "I loved him more than anything and I never meant to do what I did. It just happened. I was in a state of psychosis and…” You rubbed your left forearm, as if the cut was still fresh, still bleeding. "I was going to tell you, I promise. I wanted to so bad. Wanted you there for the first ultrasound but there just was never a good time and-" She was rambling but Bucky cut her off.

"Y/N don't. I don't want to talk about it, please."

"We need to, Bucky. Please. My doctor said it would be good to talk about it with you.” She begged.

"No." He demanded.

"Bucky, I know it'll make you feel better."

"I don't-" Bucky stuttered. "I can't-" He was hyperventilating. Sitting up in the bed, he panted, "Fuck I'm gonna get sick." Y/N handed him a bedpan and Bucky quickly grabbed it, spilling out the contents of his stomach- which wasn't a lot. When he was done, he set the bed pan down and collapsed back on the pillow, dizzy again. Y/N softly smoothed back Bucky's hair that was sticking to his forehead. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. Not yet.”

"I shouldn't have pushed you." You whispered, setting your head on his shoulder. The two of you sat like that for a while, just embracing each others touch. It felt good. Your fingers played and twisted Bucky's hair and Bucky slowly ran his metal hand down your back, causing goosebumps to pop up. You inhaled sharply and looked up, finding Bucky's eyes already on you, a look of longing written across this face.

"Bucky..."

"Y/N..." Before you could even comprehend what was happening Bucky was pulling you on top of him. Your lips crashed together as your hands roamed through his hair.

Bucky's hands gripped your hips for dear life, like you would disappear at any moment. Your teeth grazed across his bottom lip, which triggered a moan to escape his lips. His hands traveled up your back, squeezing as he went, causing you to shudder. It felt so good to be in his embrace.

Y/N pulled up, panting. You stared down at him, his ice blue eyes looking back into yours. “I’ve missed you, Bucky.” You whispered, your finger tips grazing his cheek.

“I’ve missed you too.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his callused fingers tickling your jaw line. You peppered a few more kisses onto his lips before sliding off to him, and curling up at his side. Bucky wrapped a protective arm over top of you, pulling you impossibly close to him. Y/N glanced at the clock on wall. 1:35am. You were used to being in bed by 10 so you were exhausted being up this late. Just as you started to doze off, you could have sworn you heard Bucky whisper- almost inaudible, “I love you.”

Bucky stayed up most of the night, only sleep about an hour in total. He watched you sleep to make sure you wouldn’t slip away in the middle of the night and he would wake up alone, again. The morning sun was beginning to rise, casting hazy sunlight through the windows of the med bay. And in that peace, you had a night terror.

Your nails suddenly dug into Buckys skin, trying to claw at it. You’re incoherent moans and groans filling the quietness of the room. Thrashing around, Bucky caught you before you fell off the edge of the small cot.

“Y/N.” He grabbed your face, bringing you close to him, trying to stop or writhing. “Y/N wake up.” He called out.

“Killed him.” You cried out in your sleep, hands snaking down to your stomach. “Killed him!”

“Doll, honey- you’re dreaming. Wake up.” Bucky trembled, so afraid for what you were dreaming about. “Doll face wake up.” He pressed his fingers on the back of your neck, trying to soothe you.

“Killed him.” You repeated. “My fault.”

Another 10 minutes went by with you silently screaming, face contorted in pain. Bucky kept you close waiting for you to wake up so he could comfort you like he always did. He stroked your hair while murmuring “shhh” every time you jerked or called out.

Eventually, you settled down, tired eyes blinking up at Bucky. “Did I have another one?” You asked quietly, sleep thick in your voice.

“It was pretty mild, but yeah.” He whispered back. Moaning, you buried your face into Bucky’s chest. Inhaling his scent, you noticed he smelled like whiskey and cinnamon. It instantly relaxed your jittery nerves.

“You smell good.” You muttered. You heard Bucky chuckle.

“Considering this shirt hasn’t been washed in 2 weeks I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Y/N sat up and discarded your cardigan, because it was getting hot laying against Buckys warm body. His eyes traveled down to your arms, his eyebrows furrowed at the scars. They were still healing a bit, scabs were dotted across them. Bucky sighed loudly which caused you to look at him.

“I wanna show you something. C’mon.” He slowly got out of bed, his dizziness still plaguing him. You hoped down beside him and followed him outside the med bay.

“Where are we going?” You asked trailing behind him.

“The gardens.” He responded quietly. You turned some corners and were standing outside the entrance to the living room. Inside you could hear Steve talking. Bucky slowed his pace, unsure if he should go in. “We can just go around-” He started to say put Y/N pushed him forward.

“Morning.” Tony greeted nodding at them. Bucky could see visibly tense up when they came into the room. “How are you feeling, Barns?”

“Better.” He said. “Still dizzy but better.”

“Banner works some magic, doesn’t he?” Tony smiled. “Y/N, Steve made some waffles for you.”

“Your favorite.” Steve gushed, finally looking over at the two. Y/N shifted uncomfortably on her feet and nodded.

“I’ll get some after we get back from the garden. Bucky needed to show me something.” Y/N replied meekly. Bucky saw Steve roll his eyes, and anger boiled inside of him. “Come on, Buck. Let’s go.” Y/N grabbed his hand and drug him out of the living room. Bucky was still fuming, but your touch was easing him.

 Finally, you guys made it out to the gardens. It was beautiful- the sunrise was peaking over the edge of the wall of the compound cast pastel shadows over the pathways. There was morning dew sticking to the grass, which made Y/N's bare feet wet as they walked to the corner.

"What are we doing out here, Bucky?" You asked.

"I just wanted to show you." He mumbled. You stopped at a small stone that read 'Forever in Our Hearts'. "Everyone suggested that-" Bucky sniffed and looked away. "That he should be buried."

Y/N didn't know what to say. You dropped to the ground, your head grazed over the stone. "This was a nice spot."

"This is the first time I've been out here. I couldn't d-do it alone." -Bucky sat down beside you. "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"It's okay." You whispered. "I don't think I would have either." Your hand grabbed his tightly. "Do you know what I wanted to name him?"

"I hadn't even thought about that."

"I wanted to name him James. After his father." You looked up at him, eyes locking together. Tears brimmed behind his lower lashes.

"I wouldn't have been a good father." He whispered, looking down. You grabbed his cheeks softly, making him look back up at you.

"Yes you would have, Bucky." You said. He was silent for a moment.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too."

@chipilerendi

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Dominante Imp S/O x Millie & Moxxie.

Meeting the boss.

(This is a continuation of my previous dominant imp x M&M.)

In the five or so months you'd been together youd gotten a very mixed idea of who there boss was. Millie painted him as a lovable goof who would push boundaries on the regular.

Moxxie on the other hand, spoke as though he was a pervert Stalker who had it out for him.

Of course you challenged both of them, asked where he'd been for the last five months of he were a stalker and why Moxxie hated him so much if he were a harmless goofball.

Moxxie tells you Blitzø had been unusually busy as of late, with both work and Stolas.

Which was lucky, because Moxxie wasn't sure how you'd react if you found a strange Imp in the apartment.

So instead they decide it would be better if you met him properly, instead of finding him hiding in your fridge.

So the next day they bring you along to the I.M.P offices. Both Millie and Moxxie had mixed feelings about this meeting.

They weren't sure how Blitzø would react, and then they weren't sure how you'd react to his reaction.

Making it to the office, the two gave you a series of warnings about how to approach the subject.

You dismissed there concerns, I mean you could easily take on six sinners at once without breaking a sweat. If Blitzø wanted to dance, youd dance.

So entering the office, you were met with the young hellhound'et that you instantly realised was the source of so much of Mixxie stress.

You swallowed a scowl before going up to greet her. 'You must be Loona. I've heard... a lot about you.'

Loona barely gave you a glance before going back to her phone. Millie came up besides you and asked if Blitzø was in yet.

Loona just gave a lazy nod towards a door to her right.

Millie thanked the hellhound before giving you a kiss and going to find him.

That seemed to get Loona's attention, looking at you she raised an eyebrow.

'Wondering what that was?' You asked nonchalantly. Loona glanced over the Moxxie and smirked. 'Oh yeah.'

Turning to her you smiled back, 'Well im not one to kiss and tell, but basically, for the past five or so months I've been the third partner in our little party.'

'No. Fucking. Way.' She said incredulously before bursting into laughter. 'So Moxxie really is a cuck.'

You instantly soured at her words before slaming your hands on her desk. 'Lets get something clear, young lady. Me, Moxxie and Millie are a couple, eh, I mean triad. We are in a relationship, alright.'

Reaching into your coat you pulled out a long yellow envelope. 'Simply put, I'm going to be around frequently as of starting immediately. And from what I've heard you relish in making the lifes of others as hard as possible.' You waited a moment for Loonas reaching. The hellhound just kind of nodding her head.

'So in order to keep our relationship civil, I'm going to bribe you.' Loona perked up at that. 'Bribe me with what?' She asked, eyebrow raised.

'This' you told her, handing over the envelope.

Taking the envelope, she pulled out two pieces of paper. Her eyes bulged 'Holy shit are these-'

'F#ck you dad, tickets? Yes.' You cut in, Snatching them out of her hands. Twirling them around your fingers you told her 'Not just tickets, VIP tickets.' You held the tickest up, showing the Gold film over them.

The feminine hellhounds eyes growing to animated proportions.

'I was gonna take the pair out, but couldn't find an extra ticket. So there all yours. IF. You play nice. Do we have a deal?'

Loona thought for a long minute before reply. 'Fine. I'll try to play nice.'

'You do more then try.' You told her as you handed her the tickets.

Just as you let them go, the door to your left burst open.

'Alright where is this guy' the imp that you could only assume was Blitzø.

You stepped forward, Blitzø's attention falling on you. 'Okay, so Millie here says she wants to introduce me to someone important and I'm guessing that's you.'

Sticking your hand out you told him 'Yes I believe so. You must be Blitzø, ive heard... Interesting things about you.'

Blitzø took your hand, giving it a hearty shake. 'Well im a pretty interesting guy.'

You chuckled at that, before Millie came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your chest.

Going ridged you were about to turn around and ask what Millie was doing, when you felt someone grab your hand.

Looking to your right you found Moxxie holding your hand, an innocent little smile across his face.

You were about to ask him what he's doing when it strikes you. Looking over to Millie, you find her wearing a devious little smile. Looking back Moxxie you find him wearing a similar, if not slightly more anxious smile.

'Oh you little bastards, didn't want to make it too easy for me aye?' Millie whispered back in that sexy southern drawl, 'Nope.'

Chuckling you tell them 'You are gonna pay for this tonight.'

Looking back to Blitzø, I find a very confused Imp staring at me. 'Whats going on?' He asked, obviously suspicious.

'W-well, you see. For the last five months or so Me, Millie and Moxxie have kinda... sorta... been in a relationship.'

You leaned back a little, waiting for his reaction. It takes a minute before he screams 'What!'

You pull back, putting yourself between Blitzø and the pair.

Shrugged of the pairs touch, you repeated yourself. 'Me and your two employees are in a relationship.'

Blitzø balled his fists before slaming them the table. 'For fucks sake!' He screamed. 'Three years and this fucker lives out my fantasy.'

You look at the Imp unsure how to respond, but before you could you heard Moxxie speak up. 'Fantasy?' He asked behind you.

Blitzø chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Well I mean, surely it's not a secret I've kinda had a thing for you guys for a while.'

'Eww' Loona muttered, looking up from her phone.

Turning around you were quickly pulled forward, Blitzø wrapping his arm around your neck.

'So tell me, Uuh, what was your name again?' He asked. '(Y/N)' you replied.

'Aah, yes of course. So (Y/N), tell me what's it like? ' you raised an eyebrow, unsure what he meant. 'What's what like?'

'You know, the two of them... in bed?' He wagged his eyebrows at the end. You instantly sobered up.

Pulling your arm off your shoulder you stepped away from him. 'Sorry buddy, but that's between me and the two of them.'

Blitzø blew it off, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again. 'Come on, just give me a few details. Tell me, Is Moxxie a total bottom or can he dom.'

At this point you were done with his antics and practically threw his arm off of you.

'Listen, I get it, Moxxie and Millie have both told me you don't really do "Boundries" but our relationship is just that, Ours. You wanna hang out at work or go out for drinks, no problem.'

You turned serious 'But in our home, unless your invited. I don't wanna see you there.'

Blitzø wore a smirk , a smirk Id seen a hundred times over. The cocky little shit was gonna test me.

'Really?' He asked, smirk growing. I chuckled back, 'Yeah, really.'

Turing to him you told him 'I get it, your a killer, assassin for hire i get really. You kill people for a living.' You slipped a hand into your pocket, 'But do you know what I do?'

Blitzø just shook his head. 'I'm a bouncer, ya know what that means.' You ask him.

'You bounce things?' He asked dripping with sarcasm. You gave a dry chuckle back before gripping the back of his neck.

'My job is to put smartasses like you in there place. There place being on the curb, missing a few teeth.'

Blitzø's smirk grew a little larger, a little anger in his eyes. And before you knew it, he swung at you. His left arm swung in a sloppy haymaker.

Of course you were to quick, and easily dodged it, only to return with a proper haymaker. Although your haymaker came with a shiny set of brass knuckles, courtesy of your right pocket.

Blitzø went down, with one punch, like a sack of rocks.

You stepped back, taking a look at the now unconscious Imp. You could see a large bruise beginning to form on the left side of his face.

Moxxie and Millie came up besides you, looking down at the Imp. 'Bout time someone knocked some sense into him.' Moxxie grumbled.

'Mox he's our boss!' Millie scolded her husband. 'No. He's right.' You cut in, 'play stupid games, win stupid prizes and your boss chose to play a very stupid game.'

It took about an hour before he woke up, still on the floor he released a long groan before sitting up.

You walked up to him, coffee in hand before squatting down and checking his cheek.

'Hey there champ, good nap?' You ask, feeling particularly smug.

Blitzø rubbed his face, groaning out 'You get the make and model on the that Truck that hit me.'

You chuckled, 'No I did not. But I'm sure it would be happy to come right on back, unless that is, you've learnt your lesson?'

Blitzø looked up at you, the implications of your words sinking in. His eyes shifted across the room, then onto you.

'Yeah' he said, nodding his head 'lesson learnt.' Handing him the coffee you helped him to his feet.

'Good boy.' You told him before calling Millie and Moxxie over.

Steering the two towards the door you turn to Blitzø and ask, 'Its alright if they take the day off, aye Boss?'

Blitzø just gave a weak little thumbs up before turning and heading for his office.

Turning back to the pair, you leaned into Moxxie's ear and whispered 'Now who do I need to punish for that little scheme back there.'

[closhelby]

HER. - Thomas Shelby

Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: it’s peaky blinders, with smut

Word Count: 2472

AN: this is my first time writing smut, please give me any tips pls, it’s appreciate. It’s probably shite.

::::::

She always was on his mind. The woman, that always read between the lines, always two steps ahead of him, and had an incredible eye for business. She had left him years prior, leaving for a top business school in London. they never had a title, a label on their relationship, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that they always, somehow, gravitated back to one another. Often people, especially Polly, would say that there was no way two people would be so alike, strong headed but only rarely clashed. 

However y/n’s degree had finished and she was coming back to Small Heath for a period of time before she was going to figure out what exactly what she wanted to do. Y/n was actually great friends with the Shelby family, since growing up with them, living just down the road, they practically lived together. Y/n was actually younger than Tommy, she was ages with Ada and John. They were in the same class throughout school, Ada and y/n regularly wrote to each other, updating each other on Ada’s eventful life as a Shelby still in Small Heath and y/n’s very exciting studying life in London. 

They had actually planned to meet up, for a nice and quiet drink at the Garrison on her return. The thoughts swirled in y/n’s mind as she approached the Garrison, it had just gone 6pm, and she knew as it was a Friday, she did have a possibly of bumping into her first, arguably her only love.  Pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, she pushed open the door to see a fairly crowded Garrison. 

“Ah, y/n, how was London?” Harry shouted, from behind the bar. Y/n smiled at him, walking over to Ada sitting in the back corner. “It was good Harry, nice to be back in this clear Birmingham air”. He chuckled slightly, “Whiskey coming up love”. 

Y/n nodded, taking a seat next to Ada, giving her a cuddle, “Unsure if ive missed this place or not” y/n laughed slightly, eyes scanning the pub, looking for the one man she questioned if she did want to bump into. The pair was throwing back drinks like it was going out of fashion, knowing they would both regret this in the morning. Apparently, Ada wasn't allowing y/n to go back home, and in fact y/n didn't have a home yet and wasn't willing to go back to her parents, so Ada was insisting that she stayed at hers until y/n found a suitable place. Y/n didnt put up a fight, despite them both being hot heads, and taking absolutely no shit from anyone, men or woman, y/n didn't argue. She was actually really thankful for her. 

They eventually stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, their laughs echoing throughout the silent house. 

::::

The sun caught y/n directly in the eyes, quickly awoke y/n from her sleep. Her head felt as though someone had been hitting her head against the floor multiple times. Y/n continued to lay there, turning away from the sun, trying to keep the contents of her stomach from getting sprayed all over her and the sleeping Ada. She made an attempt at moving, sat with her head in her hands as she was trying to give herself words of encouragement to get up and make herself something to eat. 

“Fuck sake, why do we do this to ourselves?” Ada moaned from behind her. Y/n scoffed, “ Your bloody idea”.

Quickly standing up, in hope she could get it over with quickly. The room continuing to spin, as she attempted to walk to the door. Ada following closely behind. 

They both sat slumped over the dining room table, as they attempted to sober up and embrace the oncoming hangover. John now present, laughing at the two dying woman in front of him. 

“Good night?”

“Always.” Ada grumbled.

Pol placed a plate in front of them, toast with jam, “Does Tommy know your back? 

Eyes falling onto y/n from every person in their, “No.” answering quietly. 

Attempting to change the subject, “Told myself I would start looking for a new job today, since I shall be staying here for a decent period of time.”

John raised his eyebrow, “Tommy’s looking for a new secretary.” A slight smile on his face, “You've got a good background, business and that”.

“hm, I don't think so Johny boy”.    

“Don’t say no too soon, your a good asset to the business.” Pol added. No one was ever in y/n’s corner more than Pol, they would bang heads sometimes, as neither of them would back down. But she accepted y/n was the only one that had the best interest for Tommy.

The front door closed, and there he stood, the room turning to face Tommy, silence filling the room, then he broke it, “Heard you were back.”

“Yeah,” she replied quietly.

“Well, you know where I am if you need that job, I’m sure you’ve already been told,” he spoke, cigarette hanging from his mouth, as he walked away from them and into his office.

Y/n let out a breath, as though she hadn’t been breathing the whole time he was there. Ada smiled at her, placing her hand onto y/n’s, “I’m just going to get ready for the day love,” and off she went upstairs. The boys getting on with their day, and Pol following suit.

Y/n sat collecting her thoughts while trying to tell herself to face her ex lover, who she was still so deeply in love with. She tapped on the door slightly, opening it before opening it, “hi”, seeing his eyes flutter onto her shot tingles throughout her body, his eyes quickly looking away

“You can start tomorrow if you wish, I need a few papers signed and sent tomorrow. I can get your contract drawn up tonight.” He spoke, his eyes still not lifting from the paper in front of him.

“Yes, that’s fine 8am?”

“8.45, shop doesn’t open until 9. And there are others to set it up, that’s not your job.”

Nodding, “I heard you have a new woman.”

At this point he did look up at her, “I heard you had plenty men in London,”

She laughed slightly, nodding before heading to the door, “none were ever a patch on you,” closing the door, leaving a smirk on Thomas Shelbys face.

The following day came around, as y/n got ready for the day. Putting on a formal black tightly fitted dress, flats and pin curled hair. A slight tint of red lippy, remembering it used to be Tom’s favourite. Assuming Tommy wouldn’t be at the shop at this time, she took a whiskey with her placing it on the desk infront of Tommy’s office. The place was silent, despite there being other employees now starting to arrive, something calming about the place, almost the calm before the storm, she thought.

The hour was now around ten thirty, and there was still no sign of Tommy. She had already finished the papers he had left for her on her desk. It wasn’t the usual small Heath lady, she was educated, and to a very high level. y/n was sat twiddling her thumbs, awaiting Tommy’s arrival to get other things done.

“Y/n. My office please,” his voice low, as he stood behind her. She stood up quickly, following him into the private room.

“There’s your contract, if you wish to have a read over it. I see you’ve finished the work I gave given you for the day.”

Y/n took the contract into her hands, scanning for any mistakes or anything to question. But he actually was paying her nearly double the rate of other staff, and just over that the London rate was, “you’ve done your research eh. More than London rates, impressive. The peaky’s are stepping up in the world” Y/n smiled at him, as she placed the documents on the desk, picking up his pen, and signing it. Y/n Y/l/n. Followed with today’s date. That was now it, she was a Shelby Co Ltd employee.

...

The days turned into weeks, spending time with tommy while no one else was looking was becoming a regular thing. She now had her own place, just doors down from the shop. He would regularly call her into the office, and discuss things that he would usually never utter a word about. It had always been that way with them, since they were little, he would confine in her, telling her all the issue and problems he was facing, both in his mind and with others. But it was also coming to her attention that he was still seeing Grace.

Later on in the day, the clock chimes 11pm, as y/n sat listening to the music that takes her back to a child, while sipping a whiskey. The knock of her front door bringing her out of her daydream, she picked up her handgun that she kept on her at all times. Growing up with The Shelby’s, she had to protect herself in someway. She kept it behind her, out of view for anyone who was in front of her, slowly creeping up to answer the door. She swung it open, gun clocked and pointed directly in the face of Thomas Shelby. Not wasted, but defiantly had a few.

“Ah, can never change a Shelby girl eh” He spoke, laughing slightly as she lowered the gun and he stepped inside. 

“Although, I’ve never been a Shelby girl, have I Tom?”

“Depends who you ask.”

She sighed, stepping in to the fire lit living room, “Drink?”

He nodded in response, and y/n began to pour him a whiskey, topping up hers and handing a full glass over to him. “Why are you here?”

He stepped over to her, the closest they had been together since before she left for London. He placed a hand on her back, pulling her head into touch his, their foreheads touching. The sensation ran through her body like the first time they had ever touched. He placed his hand on around the back of her neck, pulling her into him, his lips crashing onto hers. Their tongues intertwining with each others as the kiss started to deepen.  Y/n reached for his jacket, pulling it off his back, before making her way on to unbuttoning his shirt. Tommy pulled the bottom of her nightdress up, y/n only allowing the kiss to be broken to allow it to come over her head. 

Their lips syncing with each other once again as tommy took his now unbuttoned shirt off, moving onto unbuckling his trousers revealing his already hard length. He began to push her back onto the couch, untangling her lace thongs from around her legs. His fingers trailing over her already wet pussy, “Do it” y/n whispered as she pulled his face back up to kiss hers. 

He didn't even wait as he shoved his length into her. Their bodies rocked in sync together, “Tommy...” Y/n moaned, her fingers trailing down his shirtless torso. The stars were starting to align, the room was warm, full of love. It felt as though it was five minutes but in reality it was around fifteen all in.

Their breath shortened as y/n’s back started to arch as she came close to climax, “cum for me”. He spoke, looking at her directly in the eyes as he rocked her world. The love, chemistry, love and lust, all so very present just as it was back how they were before. Both of them moaning in pleasure, as they both came at the same time. The deep breaths and steamy windows showing the passion that had just unfolded. 

::::::::::::::::::::

It was a Friday evening, a week following the night of sin that taken place between Tommy and Y/n. They had still had the talks in private in the office, and on another occasion she was fucked bent over his desk after closing time. Y/n wasn't one to hide her feelings, it would always be present on her face so when it came to facing Grace in the Garrison, it wasn't hard to tell how y/n’s feelings were over her.  

Pol chuckled softly, clocking the glare Grace was on the opposite end of, “If looks could kill” Ada joining in on the hilarity. 

“She would've been killed 8 times over” Y/n replied, turning back to face the women. Whiskey in hand. 

“Feelings still there for him then?” Ada asked. 

“No, I wouldnt say so” y/n lied. 

“Cant lie to a gypsy woman love” Pol laughed, y/n begining to laugh with her when the doors open to reveal Tommy and his two bothers. Tommy’s icy blue eyes scanning the room, a slight smile shooting over to Y/n before approching the bar where Grace was, where he stood there for a good twenty minutes chatting away to her. 

“I cant take this anymore.” y/n looked over to Ada, who was rising her eyebrow while taking a sip of her drink. She was fairly close to them, and y/n being y/n liked to have a slight stir up now and again. She stood up, smile showing on her face as Pol and Ada laughed, watching her approach them both. 

“So, hows your little fling going?” she spok loud enough that Pol, Ada, Arthur and John could hear her. 

“Y/n” Tommy warned. 

“Who are you?” Grace questioned. 

“Y/N,” she responded, leaning herself against the bar, “The woman he has fucked behind your back multiple times this week.”

Pol snorted, almost chocking on her drink, “ I fucking knew it. Gypsy senses never lie.” 

“To be honest with you Grace, you had absolutely no chance when Y/N came back” Ada added. 

At this point, Tommy had moved y/n away from the bar, into the small room, “what are you doing?”

“You cant take the piss out of me, fucking me but then fucking her thinking youll get away with it.” she was pissed, and he could see it in her face. They had never spoke on their feelings toward each other. Everyone knew that it was always each other but there was nothing that compared to them, they always seemed to go back.

“I have always loved you but you left to go to London, I had people follow you. I knew what you were up to so I assumed you would stay down there, I assumed you had moved on.” He spoke, almost showing vulnerability.

“Oh I know. I can remember faces Tom. I think you forget I can see right through you,” she seethed, through her teeth, “what are you going to do about this?”

Tommy cupped her face, pulling her into kiss her.

“I love you.” He mumbled, feeling her smile into their kiss.

“I love you Tom,”