#{That's great! I'm doing very well thank you for asking :) }
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XD @flurraz that's brilliant- clothing montage at the Carmine Compound!!!!
but it’s just Clara and Odette holding various weapons up next to Vaggie while their new adopted little sister scowls at her reflection and repeatedly says “NO” to the even more scowling reflection of their mom behind her
Vaggie: “Yeah no. I’m not wielding that.”
Clara: “It has spikes!”
Odette: “And hand protection.”
Clara: “And SPIKES.”
Vaggie: “Great, I could stab myself while swinging it around.”
Carmilla: “Only if you are terrible at it.”
Vaggie: (glaring) “Well I already know I’m not terrible with my spear, so I’m sticking with that.”
Carmilla: (Glowers) (goes back to pretending to check weapon schematics)
Odette: (ticks off failure on clipboard) “Sticking... or skewering?”
Vaggie: “Ha ha, very funny.”
Odette: (ticks off another point for herself on a little odette vs sisters score board)
Clara: (rummaging in crate) “This isn’t funny and you guys shouldn’t be laughing.” (holds up new weapon) “Now THIS goes with your hair.”
Vaggie: “You’re kidding.”
Clara: “No kiddo, you’re kidding yourself if you think the long-ass shaft of a spear makes sense with a do that lovely and flowing.”
Vaggie: “What the fuck does that-”
Odette: “She’s right.” (makes new score board clara vs vaggie with one point to clara)
Clara: “No wonder you had trouble sparring with mom. Like, more that you would’ve had normally.”
Vaggie: “I haven’t been in a real fight in years okay!”
Carmilla: “It shows.”
Vaggie: “I’m. Working on it. I was one of that asshole’s best Exorcists once, I can-”
Carmilla: “Be better than that, hopefully.”
Vaggie: “Thanks.” (GLARES)
Clara: “All I’m saying is- no point fighting against yourself too, right? How hard did you have to focus to keep the stupid butt end from tangling in your hair?”
Vaggie: “I’m NOT cutting it.”
Clara: “Who’s asking?” (dangles weapon enticingly) “Look! Your new best friend!”
Vaggie: “A gun.”
Clara: “I know I know- you like sharp things and staby stuff, but look!”
Clara: (twirls gun dramatically)
Clara: “It has a knife on iiiiiit~”
Odette: “It would also not interfere with your hair.”
Vaggie: “I don’t know shit about guns.”
Clara: “What’s to know? Point and shoot. AND it’s got more reach than a spear! Which is good ‘cause you’re hair might be long, but the rest of you?” (rests elbow on vaggie’s shoulder) “Rest of you kinda comes up short.”
Vaggie: (grinding her teeth) “THANKS.”
Odette: (ticks another point for clara)
Clara: “Wait- You’ll take it!?”
Vaggie: “No.”
Odette: (ticks another failure) “Why not.”
Vaggie: "Oh wow I don't know maybe because-"
Vaggie: (ticks off reason on hand) “With a spear I have to choose every skewering I do and it’s a lot harder to miss and stick the wrong person. Even if I throw it it's only gonna go so far or through so many people. A bullet can go anywhere once it’s loose. If your aim is off by a centimeter that little thing goes wide. Maybe don't give the gun to the woman with a missing eye??? Definitely not when there are moving targets and things around she ISN'T supposed to shoot?"
Clara: "Oh riiiiight." (looks from gun to vaggie's eyepatch) "Huh."
Carmilla: (not looking up) "You were very accurate during our little play fight."
Odette: "I confirm. I've watched the security footage. I'm sure you could compensate."
Vaggie: "Well I'm not. I’m trying to protect my girlfriend and our friends and kill angels. I'm not not in this fight to ACCIDENTALLY kill someone.”
Carmilla: (smiles)
Clara: “Uh-huh. You like being close enough to catch all that blood splatter, don’t you.”
Vaggie: “…it’s just a perk.”
Carmilla: (smiles wider)
Clara: “Ew.”
Odette: “Impractical.” (adds ‘deranged’ to list of new sister’s traits, right under ‘gay’) “Mother, tell her she’s being weird.”
Carmilla: “I fight people with ballet, I’m afraid the toe of judgement I’m balanced upon is rather precarious.”
Vaggie: (SMIRKS) “Pretty badass though.”
Carmilla: “I know.”
Clara: “OH-!”
Clara: (disassembles gun) (chucks it) (claps hands) “I GOT IT!”
Vaggie: “What now.”
Odette: “Nothing good, statistically.”
Clara: “MOM! Mom- maybe she needs- You know!” (GRINNING EVILLY) “If the shoe fits….?”
Carmilla: “….Hmm.”
Vaggie: “What.”
Carmilla: (standing up and prowling around vaggie thoughtfully)
Vaggie: “…seriously, what?”
Carmilla: “Would you spin, please.”
Vaggie: (gracefully turns) “You know what I look like, miss Carmine.” (glares at clara) “There’s not much of me to look at anyway.”
Clara: “There’s enough, don’t worry~”
Vaggie: (rolls eye) “Wow. Such praise.”
Carmilla: “Can you stand on one leg without falling, or does the loss of your eye-”
Vaggie: “That’s more distance and depth and stuff.” (tucks one leg) “I’ve figured it out, kinda.”
Odette: “Yes? Constant assessment of changes in size and angle of objects?”
Vaggie: “You got it.”
Odette: “Seems rather strenuous for daily life.”
Clara: “Aww you get headaches or shit?”
Vaggie: “More like just tired. Keeping things in the same place when I can manage it helps a lot. Or it does when no one’s moving the lobby chairs around and then LEAVING them messed up like that anyway, for ME to clean up…”
Clara: “Or stumble into?”
Vaggie: “Whichever comes first.”
Clara: "Ow."
Odette: “So tidiness helps.”
Vaggie: “Yep.”
Odette: “Noted.” (notes it)
Carmilla: “Well you certainly are steady. Excellent posture.”
Carmilla: (leans in)
Vaggie: (leans back to maintain distance) (still on one leg)“Don’t forget confused and slowly losing patience, ma’am.”
Carmilla: “Mm? What? Oh sorry.” (leans back)
Carmilla: “You are a dancer, aren’t you.”
Odette: “...Oh no.”
Clara: “Oh YESSSSS.”
Vaggie: “Yes? Why the- why the fuck is she hiding behind her clip board-”
Odette: “I don’t want to relive my trauma.”
Clara: “I DO!”
Vaggie: “What the fuck does that have to do with me!?”
Clara: “Everything~”
Odette: “It’s about to be YOUR trauma.”
Vaggie: “What does THAT m-”
Clara: “Welcome to the family!”
Vaggie: “I- wh- why’re you making it sound like a THREAT!?”
Carmilla: “Our family is a threat. Now.” (taps heavenly steel ballet slippers together so they chime) “Can you stand en pointe?”
Vaggie: “….”
Vaggie: “….oh HELL no-”
Carmilla: “You already use your training as a dancer in battle. Weaponizing it fully is merely the next step.”
Clara: “Heheh. Step.”
Odette: (marks a point for mom)
Vaggie: “En pointe?” (clutching her spear) “THIS IS THE ONLY POINT I NEED!”
Carmilla: “Clara, fetch the practice slippers.”
Clara: (salutes) “Yes mom!”
Vaggie: “CLARA WAIT!”
Odette: “May mother have mercy on you.” (follows clara towards door)
Vaggie: “NO HEY- pendejo- WHY ARE YOU LEAVING TOO???”
Odette: “I will oversee the rest of the weapon loading. Also, I do not want to witness this, and am escaping.”
Carmilla: (sighs) “Dancing is a passion that is not always passed down from mother to child…”
Odette: “Not willingly anyway. Much like trauma.”
Clara: (out of sight) “I liked my trauma!”
Vaggie: “I’ve already got some, I don’t need more!”
Carmilla: “But you do not have your order of weapons yet. It will take half an hour to finish bringing out stock, checking each weapon for readiness, and crating them up again. Plenty of time for a little… assessment.”
Vaggie: (folds wings around herself) (backs away) “I’ve- dancing’s just a hobby, I’m, not even that good-”
Carmilla: “Your lies are terrible. Your form is perfect.”
Vaggie: “I’ve only danced for FUN!”
Carmilla: “And is not battle fun for you? The rush, the deadly interplay of partners you know so briefly and so intimately, to move in response and shape their own movements with yours?”
Vaggie: “…. I also like stabbing people!”
Carmilla: “Choreography for a spear. An interesting challenge.”
Vaggie: “Is this part of the deal for getting weapons from you, or-”
Carmilla: “Yes.”
Vaggie: “-en la madre…. fiiiiine.”
Carmilla: “You will submit to a small rehearsal?”
Vaggie: “Whatever.”
Carmilla: “Good. Now tuck those wings away.”
Vaggie: “Won’t I do better with-”
Carmilla: “You are more used to moving without them now, they're very nearly throwing off your balance. That, on top of your long hair, we do not have time to contend with.”
Vaggie: “But-”
Carmilla: “Fight without wings and keep them in reserve or cut your hair. Your choice.”
Vaggie: “…I guess.. keeping them as a surprise makes sense…”
Carmilla: “And you like having long hair, I know.”
Vaggie: “It’s whooshy.”
Carmilla: “Regardless, you will also at least be tying it back.”
Vaggie: (glowering) “Yes mom.”
Carmilla: “….”
Vaggie: “…”
Vaggie: “Ma’am I said ma’am.”
Carmilla: “I’m sure you did.” (turning away) (hiding smile) "Now. What always comes first?"
Vaggie: (sighing) (resigned) "Stretches..."
#hazbin hotel#vaggie#carmilla carmine hazbin hotel#clara carmine hazbin hotel#odette carmine hazbin hotel#vaggie gets adopted by the carmines au#incorrect quotes#silly#clara and odette having way too much fun with their new chew toy- SISTER#carmilla rubbing her giant clawed dancer hands together#plotting how to finally pass on her weird dancing obsession#to at least ONE daughter
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Pride
Omg, you guys, it's the last one! Where did the month go!
A huge, huge thank you to @calaisreno for keeping is going the entire month, and a huge thank you to all of you for reading and writing and gushing and commenting and crying and making this more fun than it had any right to be. I'll miss this!
I did a Pride ficlet last year as a bonus ficlet because I missed two days. I had a lot of ideas for this year's, and maybe I'll post some of them as bonus ficlets through June, but for now, I say goodbye to May with John and Rosie.
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"Dad."
"Hmm?"
"Dad!"
John puts down the newspaper. Apparently this is a serious discussion. "Yes, love?"
Rosie throws herself into Sherlock's chair and contorts herself into a pretzel-like shape that can't be comfortable. "I'm...um..." It's apparent she doesn't quite know how to phrase her issue, because she's unnaturally hesitant. Sherlock's influence has made her shockingly blunt, while John's influence has made her shockingly foul-mouthed. Arguing with her is a joy. But now, very untypically, she looks confused and a bit lost.
"Ro, whatever it is, you can tell me," John says, leaning forward, a bit worried now.
"It's..." She sighs, looks down at her hands. "It's a bit personal?"
"Oh my god you're pregnant!" John blurts out, his momentary fear overriding his usually good brain-mouth-filter.
"Dad, what the actual fuck! I'm not fucking pregnant!" Rosie rolls her eyes so hard John wonders if she sprained something. "You know I'm on birth control. You went with me to get my first prescription, for fuck's sake."
"Accidents happen, my dear," John says, gesturing at his lovely daughter, who, light of his life, and joy of his world as she may be, was also very much an unplanned pregnancy.
"Fair enough," Rosie admits, deflating a bit. "Still."
"It wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption. You have a boyfriend, you're twenty, I'm assuming you're having sex."
"Please, dad!" Rosie exclaims, the tips of her ears turning red. "I really don't want to talk about my sex life."
"You think I do?"
Rosie makes a very Sherlock-like 'never mind all that nonsense now' gesture. "Anyway," she says, giving John a glare that tells him to shut up until she's finished. "It's actually kind of about Mark."
John nods, to let her know he's listening, but carefully and deliberately keeps his mouth shut, even as he's thinking, If he hurt you, I'll kill him so fucking dead so quickly he'll never know what hit him.
"It's... you know... he's... well, he's a boy," Rosie finally gets out.
John blinks a few times. Waits a bit. When it's clear Rosie won't be any more forthcoming about the issue, he dares to ask, "And?"
She looks down at her hands, studying them with unwarranted fascination. "I'm..." She sighs. "When did you know you were bisexual?"
John exhales audibly. Now he knows what this is about. In a family of mostly queer people, Rosie seems to have assumed she'd be some kind of queer as well. And if anyone knows how complicated identity can be, especially if it's weighed down by expectation, it's John. "Um. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I am."
Rosie looks up, surprised. "I mean. Mum. And Paps. Um. You know..." she makes a 'please fill in the gaps yourself' gesture.
"Look," John says, leaning forward and taking his daughter's hands. "I personally think labels are vastly overrated. If a word, or a label, or a phrase, helps you to better understand yourself, that's great. Use that label as long as it serves you, and if it doesn't anymore, use another one. As for me, I was raised in an environment where being different was bad. What kind of different you were exactly was completely beside the point. And I saw first-hand how the world treated your aunt, so I thought, best not think about it. I wasn't that attracted to men, it wasn't difficult to ignore. Until I met Paps, and you know how difficult he is to ignore."
Rosie grins. "Oh, yeah. So Paps made you bi?"
"No, you know it doesn't work like that. He made me... " John answers, smiling fondly at the memory. "Well, quite simply, he made me fall in love. He was—still is, of course—the most intriguing, gorgeous, infuriating, exasperating, fascinating person I've ever met, and I fell in love with him so hard, and so fast. But I wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready, and it took us years to get our acts together. And part of that was that we both couldn't accept a fundamental truth: The heart wants what the heart wants. Fighting against it only brings misery and destruction." He squeezes Rosie's hands. "So. Do you love Mark?"
She nods, her eyes shining with the truth of it.
"Is he good to you? Good for you?"
She nods again.
"Then who the fuck cares about anything else?"
Rosie's silent for a bit, apparently mulling over his words, still holding on to his hands. "So," she finally says, looking up from her joint hands with a smile. "You'll love me even if I'm straight?"
"Well, love, I suppose I can overlook this glaring character flaw. Also, you might meet a stunning lesbian when you're forty and she'll rock your entire world and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down. And I want you to remember," he says, leaning in a bit more, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm fine with everything, as long as you give me some grandkids first."
Rosie laughs and pushes him away. "Fuck off."
John gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "So, sexual identity crisis over? You want to have some tea now?"
"Of course I want tea. But what you're saying, if I understand you correctly, is not to assume I'm straight just because I fell in love with a man?"
"I'm saying," John says, flicking the kettle on, "is that it doesn't matter, love. Gay, straight, pan, bi, ace, all these labels are useful if they help you understand yourself. But if you feel boxed in by a label, don't use it. Use another one. Use none at all. Let nothing ever keep you from knowing and understanding your own heart. That's the only thing that matters. I might be bi, who knows. The important thing is that I love Sherlock with all my heart, and that I made a commitment to him. Everything else is just noise."
Rosie is quiet for a bit, looking thoughtfully at the fire crackling cherrily in the hearth of 221B. "You're getting soft in your old age, Dad," she finally says, with a grateful smile.
John hands her a mug, drops a kiss on her head. "Love you too, dear," he says, smiling into her hair.
----
Don't forget that I'm collecting these ficlets here on AO3, and don't forget to check out the wonderful collection of May prompt ficlets as well. I know I'm already looking forward to reading all of them again.
Tags under the cut as usual.
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown
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01. white dress
JJ Maybank x Reader
Series Masterlist here
Can also be found on wattpad as JJ x Oc here
Series warnings; abuse, smut, underage drinking/smoking, alcohol, drugs, jj is a dick so is Rafe, death, eating disorder (only a little)
"THE club sandwich, please." JJ wrote down the order on his notepad.
"Honey, what about a salad?" Y/n frowned at her mother. Camila Torres was one special lady.
"I'm not craving a salad, mom." She looked down to her hands, that were placed on her lap. Going against her mother was never easy, she always won.
"But midsummer is coming up, you need to think about what you eat." It is not the first time she had mentioned it. Her mother had already bought the dress. It took a whole day and a lot of wine, but finally Rose and Camila had decided what Y/n and Rafe should wear, she would be furious if Y/n could not fit in it.
"Midsummers is six months away." The girl spoke quietly. Fidgeting with the Chanel bracelet Rafe had gifted her.
"She'll have a caesar salad. I'll have the same." JJ scratched out the 'club sandwich' and added two salads. This was more common then you would think, and JJ learned it is best to just do as you are told.
"Coming right up, ma'am." The blond said before disappearing inside.
"Maybe you would like to join me for pilates this afternoon. You'd be amazed how fun it is." Her mom have always asked her to join, but Y/n did not see much fun in hanging out with women who had a midlife crisis, talking about how hot the guy who works for them are.
"Can't, Rafe said he would take me out." Truthfully he was, and for once she was glad she did not have to make up an excuse.
"Oh, how lovely. I can't remember the last time I had a date. You're so lucky to have him." She knew that already, and somehow it made her feel guilty, like she did not deserve him.
"And how is tennis going? All good I hope." Tennis. A sport she hated, but did it to please her mother.
"It's going good. My coach says I have the potential of getting an athletic scholarship." It was true. Although she hated the sport, she had played it for so long, and was really good at it.
"That's great, honey. Although you won't need it." Before Y/n could respond, the same blond walked up to the table, placing the food down. Muttering a quiet 'enjoy your meal', before he left.
Taking a sip out of the lemon water her mother had ordered for her, she plucked up the courage to question her. "Why?"
Taking a bite before she responded, her mother chuckled. "Well, you're going to studying law, like me. That athlete thing is only temporary. Besides it would be a surprise to even see you working after school, dating Rafe and all."
Y/n picked her fork up, moving the food around with it. This doesn't look appetizing at all right now. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's nothing bad, honey. I just mean that Rafe is a very hard working man. Soon he will inherit his father's company, and have a busy life. You guys would need someone to take care of your children, I just think it would be a good option for you to be at home. You've always loved kids, and cooking, it is perfect." Y/n felt like she would throw up. To some that life might seem as the perfect one, but to her it felt claustrophobic. She would feel trapped.
The girl picked up the napkin that was in her lap, before standing up. "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." She didn't even care for her mother's response, before she turned and headed inside.
THREE MORE HOURS then JJ's shift was over. Three more hours of spending time with ignorant kooks. Three more hours of torture.
As he picked plates from an abandoned table, he look up to meet Camila Torres eyes, who waved him over. He noticed the other girl was not there, and her food was untouched, but he would be lying if he said he cared.
"One more glass of red, thanks." JJ nodded at the request, walking away towards the kitchen. Dropping the dirty plates he was caring into the sink, before he made his way towards the bar. Picking up a serving plate, although it was only one drink, a drink he could easily just hold in his hand, his boss had given him hell about it before, 'it doesn't look good'. JJ thought that was weird, because it looks worse with just one drink on the service plate. When he finally had the glass with red wine, he made his way over to the lady.
He did not get far though, because just seconds later Y/n emerged from the bathroom, crashing into him. JJ cringed at the red beverage, that was now covering the girl's white summer dress.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." At least she had the decency to acknowledge it was her fault. Luckily, the glass had fallen on the service plate, so he wouldn't have to pick up broken glass. Feeling is boss starting at him, he quickly got into service mode.
"No, no, it's my fault, really. I apologize." The blond moved quickly to get some napkins, although he knew it would not help. As she received the napkins she looked up at him. JJ would lie if he said she wasn't attractive, she was drop dead gorgeous, but he already decided she was horrible, and her dating Rafe just proved it.
"Thank you." She sweetly thanked him. JJ took the wet napkins, and placed them next to the empty glass.
JJ leaned down a bit, not being able to resist. "Good thing daddy's money can buy you a new dress." Y/n looked up at him, a frown on her face. "Besides, white isn't your color, anyways."
"Asshole." The girl muttered, before making her way back towards her mother.
As JJ went and filled another glass with red wine, she sat down in front of her mother.
"You need to look where you are going, honey." He bit down a smile at her mother's words. Placing down the red wine in front of her. Not one single 'thank you' or even a glance was spared at him. Spoiled fuckers.
RAFE CAMERON was anything but happy when he picked the girl up, later that evening.
"You're telling me that fucker ruined your dress?" His fists clenched around the steering wheel.
"No. I'm saying I ruined it by accidentally bumping into him. He was just an asshole about it though. Saying, and I quote, 'daddy's money can buy you a new dress'. Trying to make me feel guilty or something for being born with money." Yes, Y/n ranted a lot to Rafe. It was not like he minded though, although more then half of her little rant sessions, he could not even remember.
"I told you he was a dick, babe." Rafe's right hand landed on her thigh, his left one still on the steering wheel.
"Anyways, where are you taking me?" Date night with Rafe was always a surprise.
"Topper's throwing a party. Have to make an appearance." She just nodded. Rafe was hard to figure out sometimes, and one of the things Y/n never understood was the lack of information he gave out. She just knew he was taking her somewhere, and that means everything between the fanciest restaurant in Chapel Hill, or a party. Luckily she had gotten pretty good at choosing outfits. A simple black dress did the work just fine. Usually Rafe would have been telling her to change, since it was low cut and short, but during kook parties, he loved showing her off. Like a trophy.
THE HOUSE was crowded. It was unusual for Topper to invite pogues, and knowing him he probably didn't. Yet everyone was too drunk to give a shit. The smell of alcohol and sweat, mixed with the lack of fresh air, was something the brunette was used to now. Every week, there were at least one party Rafe dragged her to.
Pouring a new drink into the red solo cup, Y/n felt someone's presence next to her.
"Told you white isn't your color. Black looks so much better." JJ Maybank had a talent for showing up where he wasn't wanted. Without even looking at him, she walked away, rejoining Rafe, who pulled her down to his lap.
Her face frowned as she spotted the white lines on the coffee table. Annoyed by the situation she decided to leave.
"Where you going?" Even though Rafe was high, he wouldn't let her wander around the house alone.
"Bathroom." She saw as he sniffed a new line, and without waiting for his response, she walked away.
Seeing the long line to the bathroom, made her realize she didn't need to pee that badly. But she didn't want to go back to Rafe, not right now. So she headed outside for some fresh air. Even though it was warm during the day, the February air made it chilly during the night.
She could still hear The Nights by Avicii blasting, followed by people screaming the lyrics.
"Finally ditched your bodyguard?" There it was again, that annoying voice that belonged to JJ. Y/n chose to just ignore him, maybe he'd go away, but it seemed like he had made her his personal target, ever since the wine incident.
She saw a sudden light in the corner of her eye, turning her head towards the blond, she found him with a lit joint between his lips. Meeting her eyes, he removed the joint from his lips, and held it out towards her.
"I don't smoke." She simply said. An answer that made JJ let out a chuckle.
"Of course you don't." Her eyebrows pulled together as she looked at him.
"Little miss perfect, right?" She didn't know why that nickname annoyed her so much, but it did.
"Why do you even bother talking to me?" She finally questioned, ignoring his statement.
"Not sure. Maybe because seeing a frown on your face, makes me happy." He spoke simply, taking another drag of his joint.
"You know that's kinda psychotic, right? Wishing pain on others." She didn't know why she even bothered talking to him, yet she continued.
"I didn't say I wish you were in pain. I just like seeing that stick up your ass disappear." He chuckled coldly. "Plus, I know you want approval from everyone, and won't be able to stand the thought that someone out in this world hates you."
"You hate me?" Her question was real, and JJ couldn't understand how dumb she was. She is a rich kook, of course people hated her.
"Damn right I do." He answered blankly.
"How can you hate me? You don't even know me." She hated that he was right, approval meant everything to her.
"I know enough." He moved closer, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "Little miss perfect. Virgin, straight A's." He leaned down to her ear. "A spoiled fucking brat." She pushed him away, her hands hitting his chest. A grin covered his face, this was exactly the reaction he was looking for. Without a word she left the blond boy for the second time that night.
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Pt. 3
Pairing: Father! Eddie Munson x reader
Warnings: I've never been on tour so the set up with how it's planned is probably wrong.
Series Summary: Years ago you and Eddie used to be friends. After you graduated, you two fell out of contact. After years of not speaking to each other, Eddie offers you a job you can't resist; be a nanny for his little girl.
Part Summary: Being a nanny for the child of a famous man is a lot harder then you expected. Will you be able to handle it?
*Not Proof Read*
Tag List: @maskofmirrors @saucypeanuttt @hugdealer
Pt.1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3
******
This is it. We're going to fly.
I look out of the small airplane window beside me. We're so high up.
The sky is bright blue with minimal clouds. That helps relieve some of my anxiety. At least we don't have to worry about a tropical storm or something.
We're still so high up though. If someone were to fall off the plane, even when it was touching the ground, it definitely wouldn't be pretty.
In a few minutes we're going to be thousands of feet in the air. That's terrifying.
" You alright? " Eddie's voice breaks through my thoughts. He glances up at me from a random rock magazine in his hands.
I nod stiffly, pulling my gaze from the window. I take a small breath to help myself calm down. " Yeah, I've just never been on a plane before. I guess I'm a little nervous. " I admit while beginning to play with my fingers. " Flying over the ocean is freaking me out a bit. "
Eddie sets his magazine on his lap and turns his full attention to me. " It's going to be alright. I've done this a million times. Nothing's happened then and nothing will happen now. Just try to distract yourself. " He reassures me. " Here. " He pulls out another magazine, this one also about metal music news. " It's band stuff so I hope you don't mind, but it might help to take your mind off of everything. Plus there's a pretty fire crossword puzzle in the back. " He says with a grin, trying to help me feel better.
I smile at him. " Thanks, Ed. "
Eddie's grin widens at the use of his nickname. " Why of course, m' lady. " He exaggerates a playful bow in his seat.
I roll my eyes. " You're a clown. "
" Actually, I prefer the term Jester. " Eddie laughs at my reaction. He glances to the chair next to him where Rose is curled up against the arm rest. The look of pure adoration in Eddie's eyes sends a flutter of happiness through my body.
He loves her so much. He's matured a lot since High school. I never would've pictured him to be this responsible. It's amazing what having a child can do to a person. He just wants the best for her.
" She's a great kid. " I compliment.
Eddie nods in agreement. " I'm very lucky. She's put up with a lot, especially with the tour and everything. "
I wonder where her mom is? I haven't heard Eddie mention anything about her and Rose never calls her.
" If you don't mind me asking, " I begin cautiously. " where's her mother? "
6 months seems very long for a kid to be apart from their parent, especially when they're as young as Rose.
A flicker of anger crosses Eddie's expression.
Worried I offended him, I try to fix it. " You don't have to tell me. Sorry, that was very personal, I shouldn't have asked. "
Eddie shakes his head. He gently pulls the blanket around Rose's small shoulder. " No, you didn't do anything wrong. " He sighs. " It's...it's a long story. "
Overhead the pilot announces that we will be taking off. My hands clamp onto my arm rests as we suddenly begin to move. I refuse to look out of the windows, focusing my attention on our conversation. " Well, lucky for you, I don't think I'll be going anywhere anytime soon. " I nod towards the window. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the ground rush by. We're going to fucking fast.
When we pick up from the ground my stomach drops. A weird unsettled feeling courses through my body. I try to ignore it.
It's okay. It's just a plane.
Yeah a plane thousands of feet in the fucking air.
Eddie seems to pick up on my distress. He leans forward in his seat, as well as forward as the seat belt will allow him to go, and he pats my knee. " It's gonna be alright, Y/N. " He glances over at Rose who's still sleeping and very much unbothered by what's going on around her. " Her mom is a model I met at a party a few years ago. We dated for a bit and then we found out she was pregnant. " Eddie sighs. " She wasn't that interested in being a mom, her career was just taking off. We tried to stay together at least until Rose was born but she wasn't happy. We decided it was best if we broke up. She isn't around much. She's still out there 'finding' herself. She's supposed to come see one of the shows when we get back into the States. She wants to see Rose. We'll see how that goes. She doesn't even bother with child support so I wouldn't be surprised if it's too difficult for her to make it out to see Rose. " He doesn't sound like he carries much belief in the woman.
" I'm so sorry. " I send him a sympathetic look. " That's very rough. "
Eddie shakes his head. " It's alright. I've got Rose and Rose's got me. She doesn't need anyone else. " He tenderly brushes a strand of hair out of the young girl's eyes. " Besides, now she's got an awesome nanny who will be there for here when I can't. " He sends me a smile.
" Of course. "
I've only been around the little girl for a little while but I'm starting to grow more and more protective over her.
Eddie and I continue to talk and eventually, my fears of flying begin to subside and I can finally relax.
It's nice catching up with Eddie. It's been so long since we've seen each other. I forgot how easy he is to be around. In many ways he's changed but in so many others he's exactly the same. He's kind and funny. He cares about what I have to say.
Things my ex struggled with at times.
I don't even realize when I begin to fall asleep. The peaceful atmosphere along with Eddie's soft voice lull me into a hazy state.
" Y/N? " Eddie's voice feels distant and quiet.
I don't respond, my lips feeling too heavy to move. I manage to muster up enough strength to crack my eyes open just enough to see through my lashes.
" Can I get a blanket please? " Eddie asks a nearby flight attendant. She quickly returns with a blanket which he opens up.
I hear the faint click of his seat belt as he takes it off. He shuffles around for a moment before leaning towards me.
My eyes, too heavy for me to keep open, close completely. I feel Eddie's gentle hands tuck the soft blanket around my shoulders. His touch is light as if he's scared of waking me up.
" Sleep well, Y/N. I'm so glad I ran into you. " His voice is so quiet I almost miss his words.
Too exhausted to think over his words, I let my mind slip into darkness, the feeling of safety and comfort completely surrounding me.
I missed Eddie.
*****
" How the fuck did they find out we were going to be here? " Eddie's slightly panicked voice.
My eyes widen at the sight in front of us. Dozens-no hundreds- of people are gathered around the entrance of the hotel we're supposed to be staying. Some are carrying large cameras with blinding flashes that go off as they snap pictures of the car. Others are loudly screaming and carrying signs. Everyone is loud and their eyes are desperate for a chance to see or be noticed by one of the boys.
" Someone must've leaked where you're staying. " Eddie's body guard, Tony, sighs. " Don't worry Ed, we'll get you guys in there safely. " He leans over to say something to the driver.
Eddie turns to me. " I forgot to pack sun glasses for you guys so this is what we're going to do. I'm going to get out and cover you two with my jacket. Keep her face hidden. Try not to look into the flash, that shit can blind you. " He pulls a pair of sunglasses out of his backpack and slips them on. " Trust me, it's not fun stumbling around while not being able to see. Don't worry about the bags. I'll send someone back to grab everything. "
I take Rose out of her car seat and pull her hood up. Eddie waits for me to get ready before he finally opens the door.
Noise floods into the car and the light is so much brighter than what the tinted windows let through.
I'm terrified. The crowd looks uncontrollable and hungry for the attention of Eddie.
The hotel's security struggles to keep a clear path for us to walk through. They firmly tell the crowd to back up but their voices only end up blending with the chaos of the screaming fans and inquisitive paparazzi's.
Eddie keeps true to his word. As soon as he's out of the car he turns his back to the crowd and holds his jacket out.
I hurry towards him, terrified of being in this mess longer than we have to be.
One of Eddie's arms snakes around my shoulders to block out the flashing lights. I tuck into his side, pulling Rose closer.
I keep my head down to watch my feet and keep an eye on Rose who's now restlessly twisting in my arms. The noise and lights are too overwhelming for her, she looks like she's about to burst into tears.
" Daddy! " She squeaks while trying to reach for the man. I struggle to keep a good grasp on her.
" It's okay, Rosie. It's okay. " His voice is calm, but I can tell he's nervous. His body is tense against mine and he's basically holding onto my shoulder for his life.
" Eddie! Who's with you right now? It this a new partner? " Someone shouts from around us.
" Is Rose there? How old is she now? "
" What do you have to say about the band that allegedly copied one of your songs? "
" Show us who you're with! "
Questions dart through the air causing an overwhelming feeling to flood me. There's so much going on.
" Back up! Back up! " Tony demands ahead of us.
" Please give us some space. We're just trying to get into the hotel. " Eddie's voice is forcibly polite.
It'll be over soon. We're almost there, right?
Damn it this walk feels like it's taken an eternity. The entrance really didn't seem this far away from the car.
Out of the corner of my eye I spot of hand reach under the jacket. It roughly yanks me back, causing me to slam further into Eddie. I let out a small gasp in surprise, my eyes widening.
Eddie firmly holds me down so I don't fall backwards, both of his arms grabbing onto me. " What the fuck! " He exclaims, pulling me further towards him and away from the person who grabbed me.
The jacket slips down slightly and I'm able to peek out over the top.
Rose is now full on sobbing, terrified of the sudden rough movements. Her small hands cling onto my shirt, looking for any form of comfort. The top of her head slightly peers out from between Eddie and I revealing one of her tear filled eyes.
I pull one of my hands over her face, trying to bounce her slightly.
I don't know what the fuck to do? How am I supposed to comfort a child when I don't even feel safe myself.
Eddie's livid. He sends a rough look towards the paparazzi who yanked me. " What the fuck is your problem? Don't touch them! Back the fuck off, you entitled piece of shit. We're fucking people! My daughter's right here! You could've hurt them both. " His grip around me is tight and protective.
The man's eyes widen in surprise. He's momentarily paused from taking pictures. " Hey man, I didn't mean anything buy it. I was just trying to get your attention. "
" Well you fucking got it. " Eddie snaps.
I haven't seen him this mad since failed Mr. Ryan's chem class for the 3rd time.
" Eddie please, let's get inside. " I beg the man.
Eddie's eyes shift towards us. His anger seems to morph into slight concern at the sight of our state. " Yeah, I'm sorry. Let's go. "
He sends one last nasty look towards the man who pulled me before we continue towards the hotel.
Eddie was right. These lights are blinding. If Eddie wasn't holding my shoulder's I'd definitely fall.
We finally make inside and I let out a breath of relief.
The doors close behind us and immediately security guards stand in front of them to block the entry of the nosy mob.
Eddie lets go of me and immediately reaches for his daughter. He shields her from the windows by blocking everyone's view with his back. " Oh, baby. " He mumbles with guilt. " I'm so sorry. Daddy's sorry. " He gently rubs circles into her small shaking back.
We make our way further in to the hotel and finally out of the view of the mob outside.
The crying seems to have worn out Rose because by the time we reach the front desk she's passed out. Not that I blame her, the whole day's been exhausting.
We collect our keys from the front desk before beginning our journey to find our rooms.
" This was a mistake. I shouldn't have brought her here. What if she's like traumatized now? She's too young for all this crap. " Eddie mumbles in concern.
" Hey, she's going to be alright. " I try to reassure him. " She's a strong little kid, she'll be okay. Don't beat yourself up too much about it. "
Eddie doesn't look like he believes me. Instead of voicing his concerns further, he chooses to nod and remain silent.
We finally come across the massive suite we're staying in. As soon as we enter we're greeted by a large common area with a beautiful gift basket full of treats. To the side is a small kitchen and bathroom.
Eddie disappears into one of the other rooms, one I'm assuming is a bedroom.
I make my way into the other room and a rush of exhaustion hits my body. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I saw the bed.
I abandon my backpack near the door and flop onto the bed. A small sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes to block out the bright lights.
This is going to be harder then I thought.
#fanfic#x you#x reader#x female reader#stranger things x reader#fanfiction#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie x reader#rockstar!eddie x you#dad!eddie munson
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One thing that I personally find super frustrating about Taylor Swift is the way she plays into the myth of the "lone genius" artist. Without collaboration, nothing gets done; or, if it does, it's typically of low or inconsistent quality. And this is true in pretty much ANY field or discipline you can think of: scientific research, advocacy work, etc. The fact that Taylor considers herself above that and persists in selling the myth of her "lone genius" to fans honestly feels malevolent and arrogant to me.
It's truly ridiculous, at the end of the day, that people call her a "poet" and "genius songwriter" for doing everything on her own. I think it really showcases how little she understands when it comes to poetry as an art form. Most legendary writers and poets have multiple people look over their work and go through many stages of the editing process. One of the purposes of art is to communicate, and it's honestly hard to tell sometimes if what you've written has meaning and communicates well outside of your own brain. Peer review is ESSENTIAL for writers.
I think it's also very telling that she considers herself a legendary poet and actively plays into that mythology by circulating the fact that she's distantly related to Emily Dickinson. As someone who has loved and studied literature for many years, I can honestly say that Taylor Swift's closest comparative when it comes to writing is Rupi Kaur. Pinterest poetry, and nothing more. And she has the arrogance to compare herself to one of the most important poets in American literary canon!
I'm reminded of something I heard Hozier say a little while back (I'm forgetting now which interview) about people praising his lyricism as poetry. He essentially called those claims an insult to poetry, stating that there are structural rules in music (rhyme scheme, beat, etc.) that he adheres to that poets don't have to, and that poets can be much more experimental and revolutionary in form (at least when it comes to the written word vs. the sung word). Only someone who genuinely loves poetry would say something like this; plus, it shows that he thinks about the different impacts that form can have on art the messages it communicates. And this, coming from one of the best singer/songwriters currently working!
TS and Hozier aren't writing in the same genre, but I do think it's interesting to compare them as artists in their respective approaches to lyricism. When it comes to Taylor, I think she cares more about the aesthetic of poetry as an art form than the actual art itself. Her writing doesn't actively interact with the literary canon that inspired it, like Hozier's does (or other great lyricists, like Kendrick/Florence/Mitski/Elton). Her writing feels very hollow and devoid of meaning to me.
i just want to say your ask and analysis was so well written 😭 thank you for sending this in!
Completely agree that Swift's solo songwriting genius is a myth. Only 2/16 songs from TTPD were solely credited to her...which means 12.5% of the album is solely her own writing. That is not a songwriting genius. That's just a songwriter. She already knows her fans are completely sold and convinced on her songwriting genius so of course she would drag out her ancestry.com results and up-play her relation to Emily Dickinson to help sell the aesthetic of the album. Everything for her is another marketing strategy. She has no respect for poetry, let alone writing as a craft itself. If you view her behavior through the lens of another writer, it's absolutely abhorrent, but if you view it through the lens of another capitalist, it's absolute genius.
I love your Hozier comparison because Hozier is only 4 months younger than Taylor yet the quality of their lyricism are oceans apart. Hozier has proven himself to be a talented writer time and time again throughout the course of his career, and the best songwriters often know and understand the power of other writing mediums. (BTW I know what Hozier interview you’re talking about! Here it is :))
What makes a great writer is knowing the canon, and knowing other writing mediums very well. It's why the greatest songwriters incorporate canon not only of their own genre and medium but of other texts as well (I'm biased because I listened to Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights today and I know its an adaptation but still its relevant here). Intextuality is the foundation of a great work, and Taylor's work has none.
As the other anon(s) have pointed out, Taylor no longer makes music as art. She makes music for money. I don't think any artist who likes what they do or cares about what they produce would put out an album like that, with lyrics like that, and its content. At least Rupi Kaur's writing impacted poetry in bringing it into the mainstream; I don't exactly understand what ttpd could offer as a text or in pop culture.
TLDR: hozier makes music for people who eat it from the back and then handfeed you grapes afterwards. taylor swift makes music for white girls entering their first day of 7th grade send tweet
#anti taylor swift#notyouraryang0dd3ss#ask#anon#anti swifties#ts: songwriting#emily dickinson#hozier#rupi kaur#kendrick lamar#mitski#florence and the machine#elton john
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CHAPTER 12
status: ongoing
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…
Masterlist
Before to start. . . Please take your time to read 'cause it's quite lenghty. 📖
rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)
Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.
Taglist: @harriedandharassed
The weekend - end with Joel unfortunately came to an end. The enchantment is over and everything is back exactly as it was. Or almost, Joel, the night before the two of you went back to your lives, gave you a small set of keys.
"If you want to come here and write, you can. With or without me. There's an important part of you here and it's right that, when you want to, you come. Feel free to do." he told you "If you want to run away and seek refuge, you can do it here."
You are in your room lying on your bed with the small wooden guitar he carved for you a long ago clutched in one hand and the keys to his house in the other. You clutch them tightly to your heart as if to feel Joel close to you. You miss him already.
This makes you realize one thing: there's no longer a place for Jack in your life or in your heart. You want to be with Joel. You want him to be a part of you, you want everyone to know that you don't care that he's older than you, but that you love him. Yes, you love him.
You can't do without him.
Your phone rings.
It's Jack.
"I haven't heard from you once." he says.
"Well, you too." you reply in an icy tone.
"Would you like to talk about what happened a few nights ago?" he asks you.
The truth is that you don't care. You don't want someone like him next to you, someone who makes you feel bad, who doesn't support you, who doesn't understand you. No, thank you.
"There's nothing to say," you reply in the same tone.
"So … are we okay?" he asks.
"No, maybe I wasn't clear. Jack. . . I'm sorry, but I don't want a person who doesn't support me, who doesn't understand what's important to me," you answer.
For a moment you feel like the phone line has gone dead, then he resumes "So, we don't want to see each other again?"
"No." you reply flatly "Bye Jack, have a nice life." you add and then cut off the call.
Your heart beats fast in your chest. You feel as if freed from a burden.
Maybe you were too hard on Jack, but you don’t want continue leading him on, it’s not fair. You don't love him. You never had.
Now you can be with Joel.
But how can you see him if he is no longer in town now?
Simple, you look for something that might convince your mother to let you leave for a few days. You look for an idea, anything to get away, but at the moment you can't think of anything.
You fall asleep looking for an idea.
Your life flows quietly, you go to work at the bar, when you come back you practice your chords, you very rarely go to church with your mother hoping to get some ideas on how you can reach Joel. The man who teaches these classes sees you and approaches you with a big smile. He's a great speaker, has great language property, and you are not surprised that your mother is fascinated by him, but you fear that he is yet another foothold your mother is looking for in the course of her life. The man, a fellow named Mark, will be a few years older than your mother, tells you that he's glad you are there with them, that you too therefore are seeking the salvation of your soul and that only through prayer can this happen.
You lower your head, you don't want to burst out laughing in his face, you don't believe in this, you never had and you won't start now. Everything you hear only increase this your total belief. You are not like your mother who believes whatever she is told. No.
"Boo," your mother says, "have you seen how interesting these classes are?"
Of course.
"Yes, you right. You know, I've been thinking about going deeper," you begin. Your mother's eyes sparkle, she thinks she convinced you and converted you to all this. Not at all.
"You could go for a prayer retreat with Mark and his group." she offers enthusiastically "If I could, I would go too, but I have to work."
You take advantage of it.
"Mom, actually I'd like to go with my friend Kristen and her prayer group, you know, she's also attending. Her group is in the small town near ours, I know they are leaving next week for a prayer retreat, maybe I can go with her so I would have her company."
Kristen is the friend your mother always liked the most, she always saw her as a proper young person, judicious, polite, charitable, in short a perfect friend and girl.
"Fine. But you'll have to let me know then what you think, though, and then next time you and I will go with Mark's group."
Now you just need to let Kristen know.
"We'll talk." you say with a small smile "Would you like a pizza? Shall we eat it at the diner?"
"All right." she replies, taking you under her arm.
The evening unfolds as quietly as possible, you don't talk much, you just make a few sporadic comments about the pizza, the place, the meeting you attended, but nothing more.
Fortunately Joel calls when you returned by now and your mother is in bed. You check to see if you can talk freely and realize that she is soundly asleep. Joel tells you about his day, but more than anything he asks if you have been to his house, he wants to know if you are writing, if you are doing everything to pursue your dream, but you tell him you are going tomorrow.
"I miss you," you tell him, "I wish you were here," you add.
"I can't move, honey." he tells you in a regretful tone "We may not see each other not earlier than three weeks, it's gonna be complicated days for me."
"For me too, Miller. I'll. . ." you stop, you were about to tell him I love you, but then you reconsider, you don't know if your feeling is mutual, and what if he replies he doesn't feel the same way for you? You don't think you can stand such a response from him.
"You, what?" he encourages you, you swallow, afraid, you close your eyes "Baby, are you there?"
"Yes." you answer "I'm very tired, sorry. . ."
"No, no, 's okay. Go to sleep, I wish you good night, baby. A kiss, I hope whatever you dream will come true sooner or later." he says before to hang up the phone.
You will surely dream about him, his dark eyes, his plushy lips smiling at you and kissing you softly, his messy hair falling on his forehead, his arms caging the sides of your face, you dream about him with one hand cupping your face and with the other moving a strand of your hair and smiling at you. You see him on top of you whispering sweet, reassuring words in that sweet, warm voice of his, your hands in his hair as you press yourself against him.
His hand along your bare chest, his large hand caressing your breasts, thumb and forefinger teasing first one nipple and then the other. Your breath breaks.
His bulge pushing against your inner thigh, your breaths getting shorter and shorter, you almost feel him stroking you with a finger first to taste your intimacy then slowly sinking inside you, inch by inch. You gasp.
It feels so good, the rhythm he's giving with his finger that breaks your breath, he then strokes you rhythmically with two fingers, filling you all the way, you swallow squeezing your eyes shut and clutching your sheets in a fist. You mumble his name, bite your lower lip. You feel the blood boil in your veins as he continues to pump in a relentless rhythm inside you, then your mouth opens wide in a dull moan, your lips trembling.
You open your eyes, he's not here, but your imagination brought you into his arms to come violently.
Being in his house without him causes you a strange grip, you feel like you are in a beautiful soulless place. You feel empty, you just look around as if you almost feel a presence around you. You feel ridiculous thinking about this. After all, it's not the first time you've come here, of course it's the first time you're alone here, but you've been with him so many times. There's nothing to be afraid of.
"You recognize this place?" you ask Joel, sending him a message with a photograph of you sitting on his couch.
You turn on the computer he gave you and write, write, write. The words come out spontaneously, effortlessly, when you lift your head from the computer you realize it is almost evening. You stretch, turn off the pc, drink a glass of water, go to the bathroom and then leave.
Joel hasn't answered you, that's not like him, who knows maybe he's just really busy, you tell yourself.
As you're on your way home, you contact Kristen, you absolutely must warn her of your idea: you explain your plan and she tells you that she also has to actually go to a prayer meeting and she has to go to the very town where Joel is working. You explain that you are going to pretend to join them, but that you are actually going to Joel, you want to see him.
You check your phone, but Joel has not answered or displayed yet. You decide to call him, but his phone just rings. That's weird. You text him, but nothing, he doesn't answer or call you. You think about many things, then you decide that since he doesn't answer you, you need to leave, you need to see him now more than ever.
Convincing your mother was as easy as a glass of water, she wanted to talk to Kristen of course who confirmed your prayer meetings, provided many details of arrival and departure, and you, to reassure your mother, promised to call her as soon as you arrived, in the afternoon and evening. You prepare your small luggage and, since your mother won't let you drive, you leave with Kristen. The only problem is that Joel doesn't know you are coming and you don't know where to look for him.
Someone says that doing surprises is never a good thing because you inevitably get surprises, you try to chase that thought away, you don't want to believe that you are the one getting the surprise. You check your phone, Joel hasn't been in touch or answered your texts for almost twenty-four hours, and on the one hand it agitates you, but on the other it leads you to think that maybe he's just really busy.
While you're thinking that you've been foolish in leaving like that without informing him of your arrival, you remember the name of the company he works at and so your field of inquiry narrows; you're not alone, luckily you're accompanied by Kristen and a friend of hers, a guy named Xavier, a tall, muscular, blue-eyed, black-haired handsome guy. You think he's there with you because he cares about your friend, but this is your own thought, you may be wrong.
The places you see are one shabbier than the next, fortunately Xavier is with the two of you. When you arrive at another construction site, you realize you're in the right place, you ask for Joel and at that moment you are approached by a chick all dirty with a chipped protective helmet, she says your name, you turn around "D' you know me?" you ask her puzzled.
"It's like I know you, Joel talks about you all the time. You're here for him, aren't you?" her expression tense, focused "Come with me." she tells you, turning her back to the three of you.
"Uhm, can you wait for me? I'll let you know right away," you tell them.
When you turn around, you see the woman waiting for you with her hands in her uniform pockets, then noticing that you are joining her, she continues. She urges you to be careful several times, climbing flights of semi-dangerous stairs, when you almost reach the top, your heart in your throat with fear, but the idea of seeing him urges you on.
"Don't be frightened, dunno how much he's told you," she says as if you know what she's talking about "It's less worse than it looks." she stops on the landing "He's over there, he fell pretty bad, but other than a few cuts and bruises, he's okay."
You furrow your brow, the woman talks about it almost as if she said he scraped his knee, as if it were obvious. Well, maybe it is, but not to you.
"Didn't he tell you, did he?" she asks noticing your worried expression "You stubborn fool." she says in a sigh "Come." she adds giving you a little pat on your arm.
You follow her worriedly to a semi-closed door, "Wait." she tells you, then enters.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, that's why he didn't write or call you, but when did this happen? Yesterday? Last night? This morning? It doesn't matter when, but how he is, you hope with all your heart that nothing serious happened to him and that it's just a few scratches like the ones you've also seen before.
The door opens, the woman's eyes are downcast as she comes out, then she raises them to you, "He's in a bad mood, but I think with you he's…well, we gave him a painkiller." she tells you as she walks past you.
"But how did that happen?" you ask stopping her.
"That stubborn fellow last night at five o'clock had to knock off, but he wanted to finish a job upstairs at all costs, so he stayed with four other unconscious men like him until eight o'clock. By that time it's dark up here, very dark in spite of the lights, he slipped along with some equipment on the ramp leading upstairs." you pale "The cuts are mostly superficial, except for one on his side. A couple of friends working in the ER stitched him up."
"He needs to be taken to the hospital," you say seriously concerned.
She smiles bitterly and shakes her head "Since that episode happened to his daughter, Miller hasn't set foot in a hospital." the woman looks at you as if she has let a secret slip.
"What happened to his daughter?" you ask her hoping she will talk, but she shakes her head and replies "I can't be the one to tell you about it, he has to. If you're as important to him as it seems. . . well, he'll talk to you about it sooner or later." you lower your gaze "Now go to him."
You swallow, then turn away from the woman and enter, the room is semi-dark and cold, there are dozens of cabinets along two walls and then at the back a window through which only faint glimpses of light enter and a worn sofa on which Joel is lying. You leave your bag at the doorway dropping it and hurry next to him from the side, his face is swollen, you can clearly make out a cut at the level of his left cheekbone and lower lip, his arms are covered with large bloodstained bandages and his work uniform is half-open revealing a gauze on his side below which you imagine are the stitches the woman told you about.
You very gently caress the contour of his face, his face twitching in a small grimace perhaps from pain perhaps from discomfort you don't know, he opens his eyes and when he sees you he hints a pale smile "Is it the painkillers or are you really here?"
"Joel. . ." you tell him in a whisper moving closer to his face "I'm here."
"My beautiful. . . wonderful. . . writer" he mumbles raising an arm toward your face, when his hand brushes your face and then moves your hair you have chills, you place your hand on his, you feel it warm and ruined under your fingers "'m fine." he adds "Don't be impressed, I've been worse."
"Is that why you don't want me to see you naked?" you ask smiling and causing him to smile back.
"Guessed." he replies closing his eyes, for a while you don't speak again, you think he has fallen asleep, but then he says, "I missed feeling your breath against my skin."
"I missed you." you confess, squeezing his hand a little tighter and placing a kiss on the back of his hand "If something happened to you. . ." the words choke in your throat.
"'m right here, honey. 'm not going anywhere." he tells you reassuringly and stroking your cheek with his fingertips in a slow and extremely gentle gesture.
You place your head suddenly between arm and shoulder and he barely jerks, "Sorry!" you exclaim, but he holds you down "No, 's okay, just take it easy. Come on." he tells you moving a little further into the couch. You remain lying on that small and uncomfortable couch, you don't dare to move for fear of hurting him, he's the one looking for your hand, which he occasionally squeezes, but without making a sound. You wonder if he squeezes it to reassure you or because he feels pain.
It's your cell phone vibrating, interrupting that almost perfect silence, Kristen.
You completely forgot about her! You reassure her that everything is fine and that you are with Joel; then, she reminds you to call your mother and tells you she is leaving.
Joel just turns his face toward yours, "You here alone?"
"No," you answer, shaking your head, "I'm with Kristen. She was waiting for me downstairs, you know, afraid that it wasn't the right construction site or that you weren't here," you explain to him.
"If you want to go with your friend, go. I think I'll stay a little longer like this and then go home. Join me later if you want." he tells you in a slightly dizzy voice.
"No." you tell him, "I came for you. If you want me, I'll stay with you," you tell him, looking at him.
He opens and closes his eyes, pulls you gently toward him making your head rest in the crook of his neck, "I want you all the time." he tells you "You know, I've been thinking about you all the time lately. There's not a moment in my day when my thoughts don't go to you." you lift your face slightly toward him "I have three words on the tip of my tongue, but dunno if it's fair to tell you." he adds before breathing deeply.
Your heart pounding in your chest, you close your eyes and inhale his scent.
"I have them too, from the bottom of my heart," you whisper, holding you to him and closing your eyes.
When Joel feels better, the two of you with Tess drive him home. You've reclined the passenger seat to make him lie down or almost lie down, you're sitting in the middle in the back seat. Tess doesn't talk much, she just casts brief glances at you from the rearview mirror and occasionally glances toward Joel who, however, does not look at you or at her.
The little house Joel rented here is much smaller than the one he has in town. In fact, it has a kitchenette, a bedroom and a bathroom. You help him shed his overalls, although he initially rebelled at being treated like he's ill, but you insisted. You sit him down on the worn-out couch in the kitchen and there for the first time you see his completely naked torso and it's huge, but what strikes you most besides his mighty are the many old and new cuts and scars that decorate his arms, his shoulder blades, his back. You are tempted to caress them all, but not now. You try to wash him as best you can without getting too close to the area where the stitches are.
Your eyes constantly cross, when he sees you uncertain he reassures you with a look or a nod.
Once finished, you help him put on a clean T-shirt and invite him to stay there while you prepare a plate of pasta with some tomato sauce, again he rebels initially, but in the face of your firm tone he can only surrender. You hand him the plate by sitting next to him, eating in silence. From time to time he lays his head back against the backrest and closes his eyes holding his breath, "Does it hurt?" he shakes his head, but the expression on his face says otherwise "What can I do?" you ask him.
He turns to you, "You're here." he tells you causing you to miss a beat and smile.
You enjoy each other's company, he would like to lean toward you and kiss you, but the stitches are pulling and he must not strain. You accompany him to bed, where he wears only a T-shirt and a pair of dark boxers. You swallow, if he wasn't like this. . .
You stop that thought from your mind, "Come." he says, inviting you to join him. You are wearing a shirt from a few years ago now ruined and three sizes larger, it's so big that it almost reaches your knee. You wear only that one to sleep in and briefs.
You lie down next to him, he's on his back, you can see him in the semi-darkness of the room, "Who was that woman at the construction site?" you ask, turning to him and gently laying a hand on his chest.
"Tess, a pain in the ass, but she's the only friend I have. The only one who has known me for years. She's a tough cookie."
"I saw. She seems cool," you say.
He nods, then turns to you, "Did you go to my place to write?"
"Once. I wrote. A lot. But without you, it's not the same." you say making squiggles on his chest with your index finger "I would have wanted you around, maybe hugging me and taking a look at what I was writing." you confide, he turns back to you "Next time.'' he tells you, giving you a kiss on your lips.
He takes your hand that was lying on his chest and squeezes it tightly intertwining his fingers with yours, he then runs his fingers down to your forearm and then looking you in the eyes he says "Come." you look at him puzzled "Come on me, I want to kiss you properly." he adds.
Your heart is pounding, you don't know how or, rather, you have a vague idea, but you don't know if it's right. He holds your hand as he guides you by making you lie completely on him. You feel even smaller in this position on him.
"If you have pain or discomfort, tell me," you tell him referring to the stitches, he shakes his head softly and then pulls you closer to him.
You are face to face, Joel barely leans toward you and captures your lips in a kiss that takes your breath away. You think back to how sick you were without him, you think back to the fear you had when you learned he was hurt, as Joel slips a hand through your hair crushing you even more against him.
I love you, you'd like to say, you'd like to let him know, as you too plunge your hands into his hair and your breaths grow shorter and shorter and merge into each other.
His arms held you close to him all night, you did nothing but exchange long caresses, glances and kisses. And that was enough for you.
You wake up with your head on his chest, your hair partly on his chest and partly on your shoulders, you raise your head slowly and look at Joel's face. His lips parted, his hair tousled - and it's partly your fault too - a serene expression on his face, his wrinkles barely noticeable. The grazes and bruises clash so much with his handsome face.
You gently stroke his forehead to check that he doesn't have a fever or any other problems; thankfully, everything is fine. He's breathing normally and doing well. You check that the stitches are still intact, once you are satisfied that all is well, you caress his face, his features, you feel under your fingers his unshaven beard, caress in a gesture entirely new to you his neck, his Adam's apple. You see him wrinkle his nose and furrow his brow, then slowly open his eyes finding your eyes at once, you smile at him and he smiles back.
"G' morning." you say smily.
"'Morning." he says with his voice still slurred from sleep "How long have you been awake?"
"A little while." you reply, giving him a kiss on his sternum.
"And what were ya doing?" he asks looking at you with his dark brown eyes.
"I was watching you. Sorry. . . maybe that's creepy for you. . ." you are about to say, but he smiles so you stop.
"Remember when we slept together at my house?" you nod "I watched you sleep, too. You were like a magnet, I couldn't stop doing it." he continues cupping your cheek, you close your eyes for a moment surrendering to his touch and feeling your heart beating fast "You were. . . you're beautiful." he says gently stroking your lower lip with his thumb.
"I wish. . ." you are about to say something you never thought you would have the courage to say out loud considering your lack of knowledge on the subject, in fact to tell the truth you thought you would only ever write it down in your stories and instead. . .
"Would you like to?" he urges you, stroking your hair.
"I would like to. . ." you bite your lower lip softly "I'd like to make love with you." you say all in one breath, now you would like to hide from his huge dark eyes that seem to want to read you inside, you see him swallow and then he caresses the contour of your face with a finger "Sorry, maybe. . . uhm. . . you don't want to, you don't. . ." you don't know how to continue.
"Who told you I don't want to?" he tells you wrinkling his forehead.
You look at him incredulously almost, blinking several times unable to comment on his answer.
"I just don't think you're ready yet."
"I am." you reply, trying to sound firm and tame that unfamiliar fire inside you.
"We should wait a little longer. I don't want you to have even more pain than necessary." he says moving a strand of hair behind your ear "Y' know it's going to hurt the first time, right?" you nod "I don't want you to feel even more pain because I didn't prepare you properly." he adds.
You lower your gaze for a second, "By prepare well. . . what exactly do you mean?" you ask, showing him once again your inexperience.
"When I feel better, we'll talk about it," he replies.
Interrupting that almost awkward moment there's your phone vibrating.
MOM, it appears on the screen.
Shit, you totally forgot.
"Hello?" you say snapping to your phone answering immediately.
"Weren't you supposed to call me as soon as you got here, were you?" she scolds you.
"Sorry, you're right, while we got the room and then settled in, the meetings. . . sorry." you look toward Joel who scrutinizes you with an indecipherable look.
"Is Kristen with you?" she asks.
"She went downstairs, we have a meeting soon and she went to get croissants before to start, I just got out of the shower."
"All right. So, I won't keep you, have a good day. Call me tonight."
"Alright, bye." you say interrupting the call and placing your cell phone on the bedside table.
You sigh and then turn your gaze to Joel, who stares thoughtfully at the ceiling, you stroke his arm and he looks back at you "You had to tell more lies." it's not a question, it's a statement, and his tone of voice is very, very bitter.
"I didn't tell her about-"
"Us?" he asks you "She asked about you and John though!" he retorts, returning to staring at the ceiling with a disappointed, regretful air "Right?" he adds, turning back to you.
"I only told her about Jack because it would have been more acceptable to her," you tell him, but then you regret what you said because you told him that he's no good.
He looks at you, his expression is full of pain "Got it," he only says, but you don't think he understood what you really wanted to say "Can you help me up?" he says, you want to tell him no, but his tone doesn't admit any other answer but yes.
You get up from the bed and go to his side, put your hands on his shoulder blades as he, too, clutches your forearms to give himself that push he needs to sit up; you feel against your hair his warm breath get short, "How's it going sitting up?" you ask him.
"Fine." he answers you, but his tone is icy; he's angry about what you said.
You kneel down in front of him, "Joel," you say laying a hand on his knee, "I'm sorry if you misunderstood, but I didn't mean that you're not good enough. I didn't mean that, sorry if I misspoke. You are everything to me. I've had a lot of firsts with you, you're the only one I trust completely, I've never slept with anyone, I've never allowed anyone to touch me, I've never allowed anyone to get into my heart." you tell him looking straight into his eyes hoping this time not to be misunderstood.
He says nothing, looking down at you with his huge dark eyes, his breath short from the exertion he has just made, "If I should get too much," he says, but you shush him by stepping even closer and telling him, "I don't want to hear it, it won't happen."
"If it should," he resumes, "I want you to tell me and I won't see you again, I won't look for you, I won't put you in a position to lie to be with me, but to be with that other guy. . ."
"Joel," you interrupt him again, "I broke up with Jack. I don't want to be with him, I don't want him. There's only you." you tell him, feeling his breath stop for a moment as well.
"I can't be mad at you," he admits, stroking your lower lip again with a finger "Come," he says making you sit on his lap, "The truth is you drive me crazy." he tells you slipping a hand through your hair making your face come closer to his "I wish you were happy away from me, but I don't want you to go away. I'm so selfish. . ."
You kiss him fleetingly on the lips, "I don't want to be away from you. Got it?" you ask him sinking your hands into his curls, resting your forehead against his causing your breaths to mingle, "Please don't doubt how you feel about me," you tell him, "Because I have no doubt."
He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing madly and your breaths growing shorter and shorter. He pushes you toward him, slipping his large, warm hands under your T-shirt and sitting you on his intimacy only covered by his boxers.
You never want to break this kiss, but you both need to catch your breath.
He caresses your arms, then looks long into your eyes as if to ask your permission, you nod giving him your silent consent, and he slips his hands under your T-shirt lifting it up and slipping it off with your help. You remain with your torso completely naked on him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but it feels so erotic, so beautiful, more beautiful than you ever thought.
You thought that feeling his gaze on your chest, on you, would make you strongly uncomfortable, you thought you would even freeze, and instead in a rush, which you didn't think you had, you bring his hands to your bare breasts. You both groan at that contact, "Can I kiss it?" he asks you without breaking eye contact, "Yes." you reply in a trembling voice.
Feeling his lips on your nipple makes you gasp and at the same time close your eyes, you let yourself go completely to his caresses. Feeling his unshaven beard there, his hot breath, his tongue licking you gently and his lips sucking gently your breast, lead you to moan and gently bite your lower lip. You press his head against your chest, perhaps hurting him, but it is a sensation that sends you completely out of the ordinary.
"I'd stay kissing your breast for hours, 's perfect. You are perfect." he tells you, moving from one breast to the other with a little pop.
"J - Joel… please…" you find yourself pleading without even knowing exactly what the next step to take is, your vision blurs, you press yourself harder against him making your intimacies cling together as well, he gasps "Touch me." you say, he pulls his face away from your chest and you, in a bold move, get up from him slipping off your briefs and sit back down on him, on his now clearly evident prominence.
"You drive me crazy." he tells you taking a long moment to observe you, you are completely naked on top of him while he's still wearing his now bulky T-shirt and boxers.
"Take me." you tell him, bringing his hands to your hips.
He smiles as if you have said something particularly funny, "What?" you ask him blinking.
"What have you done with the sweet version of you?" he asks you barely clasping his hands on your hips, you smile at him giving him a kiss first on his lips and then moving down his neck, feeling him hold his breath.
"I'm still the same." you answer him between kisses "Sweet and insecure, but other times I know what I want and you know thanks to who?" you add going up to his chin giving him a very light bite "Thanks to you." you resume looking into his eyes.
"If I could move freely…" he tells you as a small grimace appears on his face, causing him to furrow his brow.
"What would you do?" you ask, looking at him with eyes full of curiosity and lust.
He swallows, moves a strand of your hair and then with his hands descends back down to your intimacy, wraps it completely in his hand and caresses your outer lips with a finger. You hold your breath tightening your grip on his shoulders, you look into his eyes as if seeking safety, he kisses the tip of your nose as he continues that exhausting caress.
Your intimacy throbs, you feel yourself on fire as he continues those movements with a slow cadence making you want to be filled completely by his big finger.
"Joel…" you moan, pressing even harder against his chest eager for more clutch.
Finally, oh finally, his finger sinks inside you, inch by inch, it's a sensation that makes you hold your breath, but you deeply desired, he stays still for a while then slowly begins to pump in and out, the rhythm makes you moan and close your eyes. After a while he stops and you, with blurred vision, look at him puzzled, "Now I will insert another finger, if you have pain tell me and I will stop."
A second finger?
It will never go in, or will it?
He must have noticed the bewilderment on your face because he reassures you, "Don't worry, I'll go very slowly. I won't do anything that will hurt you, okay?" you nod, "You tell me if you want me to stop, though," he reiterates.
A second finger enters you very, very slowly, sinking even more slowly than the first in your throbbing cunt. You feel your walls almost give way to his passage, you groan and close your eyes, it feels. . . strange, but so. . . you are at a loss for words. It's even better than you could have thought!
With the palm of his hand he rubs your clit sending more discharges of pure lust all along your body, you moan shamelessly rubbing yourself against him, "Joel. . . oh. . ." you can't speak, he lays his other hand at the base of your back stroking you with slow gestures, "I'm going to. . . I'm going to. . ."
"'s okay, just let go." his words are enough, his fingers continuing to move in and out of you at an ever-increasing pace, his hand caressing you is enough to make you close your eyes and let out a long resounding moan.
You let go, abandoning your head on his shoulder as he continues to pump gently still in and out of you, then he pulls his fingers away from you and you feel his hands encircling you and moving closer to your torso and then placing a kiss between your shoulder and your neck, "'s okay." he says then giving you another kiss on your neck and moving your hair causing you to shiver.
When you open your eyes again, you notice how visibly aroused he is, how his arousal is. . . big, very big, you have chills. You want to make love with him, but he will never fit that inside you.
He lays a kiss on your forehead, then you look up and meet his eyes, "We were fighting. . . and then. . ." he says with a smile, a smile you return, "then you realized the reason was futile." you complete.
He nods, "You are. . ." he sighs noisily "so important to me, to my life, to my heart." he admits, caressing your face and scrutinizing you for a long time. You press yourself against him wrapping your arms around his neck, he groans. You sat on him completely, you also jerk and lower your gaze, "No." he says almost interpreting your look.
"Why don't you want me to touch you like you do with me?" you ask him intentionally settling better on him causing him to close his eyes and part his lips.
"I think you've already had another first for today. Let's take it slow." he says, "We'll do that too, honey, I promise." he says stroking your bare back in a slow motion that makes you close your eyes.
"I'd like to make you feel as good as you did me," you tell him looking into his eyes, "I don't want to touch you if you don't want to, but now it's your turn. You can't just worry about me, tell me what to do."
"It's… not…" he's about to complain, but you move a little awkwardly on his shaft and he finds himself swallowing, "it's. . . not necessary. . ."
"Joel!" you call back to him, "Really, tell me what to do." you add, this time intentionally touching his intimacy with yours.
"Fuck. . ." he groans closing his eyes, sighing noisily. He places his hands on your hips and moves you back and forth on his bulge, you both moan at that clutch, "Oh, fuck," he groans again gasping as you place your hands on his shoulders continuing to rub against him, "That's so. . . oh, baby, I. . ." his expression is tense, the vein on his neck clearly visible.
"Joel. . . don't stop." you moan as you move closer to him and give him kisses along the vein on his neck, you feel him gasp, move you on him a few more times and then he lets out a long resounding moan that deliciously fills your ears and leads you to encircle his neck with your arms as you too feel you have experienced a second orgasm just in rubbing against his manhood.
You stay like that against each other for a while longer, then you shift and slip on your briefs again, feel his burning gaze follow you, look up and meet his eyes, slip your T-shirt back on and put on a pair of shorts trying to ignore that almost clutching feeling at the pit of your stomach.
"You hungry?" you ask him.
He nods.
"Pancakes? Or ham and eggs?" you offer him.
"Coffee." he replies with a relaxed expression painted on his face.
"You can't have breakfast with just coffee, you know what happens? You get annoying." you look at him with an amused look making him visibly relax "Do you want to wash up first? Shall I give you a hand?"
He looks at you amused, "Nice try."
You blush, "I'm serious. . . I didn't mean anything."
"Then why are ya all flushed?" he asks relaxing completely.
"Because … I'm not used to these allusions, I always hated 'em. Gina, my friend, makes constant allusions to sex, and it always makes me uncomfortable." you confide to him.
"Why?" he asks cocking his head to one side with a small grimace twitching his face.
You sit down next to him, "I always saw sex as something awkward, strange. . . maybe because I didn't know my body, maybe because I never shared a truly intimate moment with another person, and maybe because I looked at sex as something deeply intimate and not to be talked about like that." you confide again "Do you think I'm strange?" you ask turning to him.
"Not at all. I'm a lucky old man." he says "Not everyone approaches sex immediately."
You nod, "Well, would you rather wash first - no innuendo - and then eat?"
"Okay, will you help me?" he asks looking to his side.
"Does it hurt?" you ask as you stand up and help him to his feet.
"A little, I think the painkillers wore off by now," he replies.
"Lean on me," you tell him, encircling his waist with your arm; he smiles at you, "Don't worry."
You help him get to the bathroom, then take off his T-shirt revealing himself in his might, he reveals to you once again his broad torso full of old and new scars and you again stand almost open-mouthed, you are very attracted to that strip of dark hair disappearing into his boxers. You look away feeling yourself flaming again.
"May I ask how you fell and what you were doing in the dark?" you ask as you wash his shoulders paying attention to the recent cuts and bruises present.
"Tess…" he replies with a sigh, shaking his head "she never shuts up." shortly after he adds "I heard that if we didn't complete the work on at least the upstairs by the beginning of next week, we won't going to get paid and I want to get paid because I busted my back on that fucking construction site!" he blurts out "And instead I put my foot wrong and fell with those tools. I'm an old fool." he exclaims with a sigh.
"You're not at all, you wanted to get paid for the hard work! But even if they don't have to pay you this job, though, you'll find another one," you tell him, passing the sponge between his neck and shoulders.
He shakes his head, "I don't know, the truth is maybe I should stop giving myself over to these things and do something else, even though this is what I am." he concludes by lowering his head.
"Joel," you say stopping washing him and squatting down next to him "don't talk like that about yourself, you're 47 years old it's true, but that doesn't mean you have to quit, it's true yours is a dangerous job, but you can still do it. Maybe not open construction sites, you could renovate single-story houses, you could do something a little less dangerous." you tell him abandoning the sponge and stroking his face "Look at me, please" he finally looks up "You're fine like this, you're perfect like this. It happens to everyone to fail, but if for every failure we said I'm not good enough I'd better give up, well we wouldn't live anymore!"
His formerly sad eyes become sweet and serene again, he reaches out a hand to you and caresses one cheek, this contact makes you close your eyes, you surrender to him, as always, whenever you are with him.
"You're sweet, I've always said so."
You smile looking into his eyes, "We need each other, did you see?"
He nods, "I'm taking your advice. Will you take one from me?" you look at him questioningly, "I read that there's in Seattle a contest for new writers, entries are due in June, why don't you sign up?"
A contest for new writers? Oh, it's always been your dream to sign up for a literary contest, but Seattle is so far away. . . so far away from him.
"I know that look," he says making you look up at him, "you don't have to say yes or no right away, think about it. I'd like to know and see you accomplished. I'd like to see a picture of you everywhere that says writer of the year." he says smiley and making you smile "Or maybe see you win the Pulitzer Prize." he adds making you smile nervously as your vision blurs "I don't want you to stay in that ugly, dreary little town, you have so much potential. It would be a shame to waste it over there in a bar or even in a library, I have nothing against people who do those jobs," he tells you, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, "but I wouldn't want you to do that forever. You have a unique mind, you're brilliant, you're smart, you're too much to be confined only to yourself." you're crying, you can't hold back the tears anymore "Maybe someday someone might come and make some documentary about you and who knows they'll do some interviews around and they'll interview me too and I'll say I know her, I met the wonderful woman who's driving everybody crazy."
"Stop it," you tell him sobbing and hiding your face in your hands.
He calls you gently pulling you to him to hug you, you hide your face in the crook of his neck heedless of getting wet yourself. He holds you tightly to him, his hands caress your back, "'s okay, honey, 's okay." he says kissing your forehead, your cheek, your neck, your lips.
The truth is, you don't want to fulfill your dream if you know you have to leave him.
You surrender into his kisses, into his strong arms holding you to him trying to push that thought away as much as possible because, for you, it's not acceptable.
A/N Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏 The girl in the gif has the purpose to represent the situation only 🙂
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel miller hbo#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us hbo#joel miller self insert#the last of us#joel fic#the last of us fanfiction#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal as joel miller#smut#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#joel x you#dom!joel#dom!joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller angst#bittersweet ff#soft!joel miller
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Accident -KSI
Words: 0.7k+
Warnings: angst, skiing accident, hospitals, recovery.
Summary: when abroad skiing for a sidemen video you have an accident and everyone’s worried about you.
a/n: I love this request and I feel like JJ is such a cutie so he would definitely react like this💞. I hope you enjoy my loves!!😊🫶🏼
Liked by tobjizzle, taliamar and 521,870 others
y/username: how it started vs how it's going😭
-comments-
ksi: ❤️🩹❤️🩹
freyanightingale: my poor girl🥺
y/nfanpage21: omfg what happened? Are you ok?
user31083649: isn't she filming for a sidemen vid?
-> user29736105: yea. I'm not sure if they'll post it now tho🤷♂️
"Shit! Babe, are you okay?!" JJ shouted, racing over to me. I could barely hear him. My ears were ringing and my head hurt. "y/n? y/n can you hear me? Answer me!" He scrambled as I began to come back into consciousness. "I'm ok." I croaked. My voice coming out much more quiet than I thought it would. "Fucking hell! You scared the shit out of me." I tried to sit up, a sharp pain spread through my leg. I hissed. JJ started to panic for a second time. "Don't move! What is it? Your leg?" I nodded. "Ok I'm gonna call an ambulance."
It felt a little bit like a blur after that. I was rushed to the nearby hospital where they completely checked me over. Almost an hour after we arrived the doctor came back with the results of their tests. "So, you have a concussion which is most likely from the impact of the fall and is the reason you blacked out. Your leg is severely bruised since that was what you landed on but nothing is broken. You are very lucky." She explained sweetly. A weight lifted from my shoulders. JJ let out a relived breath. "Thank you." I smiled. "You'll need to rest and take it easy for the next few weeks but you should be just fine."
We flew home the next day and I was treated like a complete princess. JJ cancelled everything in order to take care of me. I slept, watched reality tv, cuddled with our little dog and ate the food JJ brought to me, which mostly consisted of uber eats since I'm usually the cook. Yinka (JJ's mum) came round to bring me some home cooked food and to make sure that I was okay, which was really sweet. I got many texts from all of my friends along with the boys who were really concerned when they saw I'd had an accident.
I wasn't initially supposed to be going on the trip but Vik became Ill so they asked if I could step in last minute, since every time I go on there channel the video does really well. I agreed and we left for the airport the next day.
I spent the first day on the bad team with Simon and Harry which they both felt bad about but I'm really close with Simon since I've known him for so many years so I wasn't that bothered. I had to spend the night in a tiny room with them, me on the top bunk. Then JJ and Harry swapped so I ended up remaining on the bad team with Simon and JJ, I wasn't really mad though because I can't ski and I'd rather have the funny experience with JJ.
Then only one hour in I lost control and practically rolled off of a small snowy cliff. I landed in the snow after only falling about three metres but I was going full speed, doing something I wasn't familiar with. They asked if I wanted the video to be cancelled and I told them that was ridiculous. I fell on the last day and wasn't injured that badly plus the whole thing was caught on camera so it was great content.
"I'm seriously so glad you're ok. I was really worried for a second." JJ said quietly as he gently ran his hand through my hair. I yawned as we were about to go to sleep. "Could you imagine if I had died? I can see the headlines now, 'KSI's girlfriend dies while filming sidemen Sunday'" I played it out with my hands. He chuckled. "I love you. Good night." He kissed my forehead. I nuzzled closer into his shoulder. "I love you too." I whispered as I drifted off to sleep.
Liked by ksi, faithloisak and 410,732 others
y/username: thank you for your lovely messages but I'm ok, just realised I'm shit at skiing😘
-comments-
miniminter: committed to the content
-> y/username: a little too committed😂
taliamar: side note: you look stunning!
y/nfanpage21: I'm glad she's alive x
user71209374: the puppy🥹💕
#ksi#jj olatunji#jj#ksi x reader#ksi image#ksi oneshot#jj olatunji x reader#youtuber x reader#sidemen x reader#british youtubers#fanfic#image#oneshot#x fem!reader#x female reader#x y/n#x you#x reader#skiing#accident#angst#fluff
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Hey there! How about having the madara, hashirama and itachi's way of celebrating an anniversary with his wife as headcanons? Thank you!
[ 🌸 ] oh...! If I were married I would like to go to a beach to do you know what thing… that's right, I'm talking about drinking pineapple with my partner while I tell him the gossip that my grandmother told me the other day-
characters: itachi uchiha, madara uchiha, hashirama senju
genre: fluff with a touch of comedy
warnings: none, spicy parts, reader being pampered by three adult men, happy married couple
...
...
..
.
Itachi Uchiha
—My sweet boy.
—He sleeps a little longer than usual to enjoy the warmth of the morning by your side, even though he has a whole list of plans of what he wants to do with you.
—When he feels he's had enough rest, he gets up quietly and heads to the kitchen.
—When you wake up, he brings you breakfast in bed with a smile so beautiful and bright that it makes you fall in love with him for the thousandth time.
—He gives you a shy smile if you decide to share something from your plate with him (he'll eat it, but, don't expect him not share from his own plate with you too).
—In the end, the two of you end up feeding each other while laughing like lovestruck teenagers.
—After that, he takes you to the bathroom for both of you to take a shower before starting your day.
—He is gentle as he scrubs your shoulders, back, and chest while you just sigh relaxed with his soft touches.
—Of course, he'll let you help soap up his back.
—In the end, he wraps both of you in towels before carrying you in a princess style to the bed.
—Things… happen when you get there.
—Let's just say your legs wouldn't stop trembling for a good few minutes.
—Anyway!
—You both go out to eat at a nice place.
—While eating, Itachi's free hand plays with yours under the table.
—When your stomach is satisfied along with his, you go out holding hands and walk through the park (which was surprisingly empty) before sitting on the grass under a tree.
—And now it feels like a dream to Itachi. You by his side as he feels the fresh breeze.
—Your head fits like a puzzle piece on Itachi's shoulder while he wraps his arm around you, resting his head on top of yours.
—You stay like that for a while until Itachi tells you he has a little surprise for you.
—You’re a little surprised when he takes you to a spa.
—And Shisui suddenly appears, telling him that the Hokage is calling him for an emergency.
—He kisses you on the forehead before telling you he'll come back for you and to relax at the spa in the meantime, giving you some money before disappearing.
—You stay there, trying not to feel too disappointed but thinking it will be quick.
—When you're relaxed and your hair is styled and shiny, you're surprised to see Itachi outside the place.
—Waiting for you with one of his lovely smiles along with a bouquet of flowers, as if he hadn’t left you there for two hours.
—"Shall we go?" he asks, giving you his hand and the bouquet to take.
—On the way home, you wonder what has him so smiley until you enter the house and find out why.
—He made you dinner.
—Well, it looks more like a buffet with your favorite foods combined with his.
—He guides you to the table and pulls out the chair for you to sit before sitting next to you.
—That's when you realize it's impossible that Itachi could have done all this by himself in such a short time.
—"The Hokage didn’t call you, right?" "No, but I made you dinner."
—Enjoy his food, please.
—He had a great time enduring Shisui’s cheesy jokes on the way home.
—When you’re both satisfied, he gives you something he’s been working on for several months as a gift.
—As a gift, Itachi gave you a small book in which he wrote some poems that perfectly describe the love and affection he feels for you.
—Every feeling that your words, touches, and voice evoke in him is written in its pages.
—It’s a very personal and special gift for him, one that he made exclusively for you and only you, and no one else.
—Please! Don't cry or he might get alarmed.
—Anyway!
—At night, when you enter the hallway leading to the bedroom, you’ll see a path of petals.
You let out a soft laugh when you saw the petals on the wooden floor. Your heart was pounding hard against your chest, making you feel excited.
A small blush crept up your face as you imagined what Itachi had prepared for you. "Itachi! What is all this?"
"Another gift for the most special woman in the world," he replied with his own quiet laugh while leaving several kisses on your shoulders, as far as his position behind you allowed him to reach.
The walk to the bedroom felt relatively much shorter than it had all the previous times.
You let Itachi guide you, feeling so in love while feeling his hands over yours, caressing them with his long, cold fingers as he accompanied you.
A gasp of awe escaped you when you saw the bed. There were several petals on the bed and the floor, the window curtain was open, letting the angelic moonlight into the room, making it look ethereal and so intimate.
Your heart skipped a beat when Itachi cupped your face with such tenderness. He kissed you so gently that it almost made your knees want to give out. You smiled when you felt his hands slowly and methodically undress you.
He was definitely the man of your dreams.
...
Madara Uchiha
—Many will say that Madara is already prepared to celebrate your anniversary four days in advance.
—Well, that is half true and half false.
—Don't look at me like that, the man has been preparing since the beginning of the month.
—Although…
—Don't get me started on your first anniversary (the poor guy was running around like a headless chicken since the beginning of the year. He was like that until you saw him nervous because he couldn't find a good gift for you… and there were still five months left).
—He will want to give you a special (and expensive) gift.
—Although sometimes he runs out of ideas or has them but doesn't know if they are good and if you'll like them, the poor man is like: "😦, now what?"
—Sometimes he goes and asks Hashirama for suggestions (once the good man suggested for some reason that he bake a cake and bring it to you in bed as a nice surprise, he even offered to help him… it didn't go well).
—Sometimes he goes to the cemetery to talk to his brother's grave and ask for advice. He knows it's useless to ask a dead person for help, but somehow it makes him feel better and gives him more confidence with the ideas that come to his mind.
—And, in turn, it fills him with energy to continue.
—Because your man may be stubborn and confident when he's on the battlefield or when he's face to face with a tailed beast,
—but then you come along and weaken him, and he doesn't know what to do, aww!
—Going back to before!
—Girl, you hit the jackpot.
—It's like it's your birthday.
—He spoils you a lot, he just wants to pamper his beautiful woman (not that he doesn't do it every day, though).
—He takes you to eat wherever you want and buys you whatever you want, because you know, in his words: "My wife's happiness is my happiness."
—When you get back to your house, he'll ask you to stay in the room for a moment while he disappears into the bathroom.
—And when he comes out with a big smile, you know he's up to something.
“What are you doing?” you asked, letting out a small breathless laugh as he held out a hand to you, which you took with amusement.
Madara smiled at the sound of your little laugh. “It’s a surprise,” he replied, looking into your eyes with love, his own body trembling with anticipation and longing at seeing the subtle playful glimmer in the rich color of your eyes.
He gently guided you towards the bathroom door while still holding your much smaller hand compared to his. Before entering, he turned to look at you, “close your eyes”
You made an ‘o’ with your mouth as you did what he had asked; to tell the truth, you were excited, very excited in fact. You heard the soft sound of the door opening and then felt the gentle warmth of the steam on your face and a smell that at first, you couldn't distinguish but had escaped when the door was opened.
A smile spread across your lips from the excitement, but you held back, not wanting to ruin the surprise your husband had prepared for you.
You quickly identified the smell, it was… lavender? A soft laugh wanted to escape you, it was your favorite and your husband’s too.
You felt his body press against yours from behind, giving you a different kind of warmth than the steam. His chest found its place pressed against your back while his strong arms wrapped around you. His chin rested perfectly on your left shoulder.
When it came to him, everything felt like a puzzle; every piece always fit in its place, your hands when you interlaced your fingers, when you both hugged or when your lips met, it felt as if the world had made you for each other.
“Open your eyes”
You did.
Your eyes opened to see several petals on the floor and on the water in the bathtub. The candles lit up the bathroom, the light was soft, giving the bathroom a special and romantic touch.
“Happy anniversary, dear,” your lover whispered before making a trail of kisses on your shoulders and back. You squeezed his arms as his hands moved over your beautiful body with the sole mission of pleasing you.
...
Hashirama Senju
—Fun guy.
—He has several gift ideas he wants to make (I feel like if Hashi-Hashi had Pinterest, he would have a board specifically for ideas to make for your anniversary).
—In fact, in modern times, I can see him making ice cream with milk and crushed cookies just because he saw it while browsing the internet looking for easy desserts to make 🥺 Hashi-Hashi solves.
—Okwy, okay, okay
—Let's get to it!
—My handsome guy will wake you up a bit early to make the most of the day (he managed to escape after signing all the papers the day before and somehow left his younger brother in charge of the Hokage Tower).
—Also, he is somewhat excited and nervous about what you will say when you see his wedding anniversary gift. I mean, he spent a few months making it with such care that he fears something might go wrong.
—He insists on making you breakfast as a reward for all the times you have kindly made and prepared food for him when he has to go to work.
—But it doesn't turn out so well, you know?
—Poor thing, my boy 😭.
—Please avoid the burnt part of the egg and the overly toasted side of the bread. He did what he could 😭✨.
—After eating, you both wash the dishes (you insist on helping him after the last time you let him wash the dishes alone, he managed to break a cup… and it didn't even fall to the floor to begin with, you are still trying to figure out how he managed to break it).
—After that, you both stayed on the porch enjoying each other's presence until lunchtime.
—He will take you to the forest for a picnic lunch in nature ✨ The guy has some ideas.
—He will lean on your shoulder while nibbling on his ham sandwich (he leaves some crumbs on you, although he removes them afterward).
—After eating, he will ask for permission to lie on your thighs, he simply loves the feeling of being with you.
—You both stay talking for a while as you gently run your hands through his hair, relieving all the accumulated stress he has from his job.
—Sometimes, the leaders of other villages drain all his energy, but he keeps going, for you and for all his people!
—After that, he takes you to another place.
—He looks nervous yet excited. When you reach a part of the forest, he is practically smiling from ear to ear.
“Close your eyes”
“Why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
“Just do it, I promise you won't regret it”
You smiled. Although you were nervous, you trusted your husband— whatever he was planning in that head of his.
You felt his rough hands gently taking yours to start guiding you. Some giggles escaped you when you heard him nervously trying to guide you and tell you not to trip over a rock.
Although, to be honest… you didn't feel as many leaves under your feet— could it be that Hashirama had cleaned the path you were now walking on?
Your heart bubbled at the thought of your husband trying to keep the path clean and perfect for you, and suddenly you understood why Tobirama was sometimes alone in the Hokage Tower and seemed a bit nervous when you asked about your husband's whereabouts.
A laugh threatened to escape your throat, but fortunately, you held it back. Both brothers were terrible liars, maybe it was in their genetics.
“We're here, darling,” Hashirama said excitedly. You could practically feel him bouncing a little with excitement, like an impatient child wanting to show something he was proud of.
“Alright… open your eyes”
You opened them only to marvel at the variety of vibrant colors dazzling your sight.
In front of you was a landscape with several flowers of different shades and colors. The soft scent that filled your lungs made you sigh with pleasure, freeing your mind. You vaguely wondered how you hadn't noticed the smell of the flowers before; maybe you were so focused in your mind that you didn't pay attention to it.
The gentle squeeze of Hashirama's hand softly brought you out of your thoughts. The sun was beginning to set, and the sky was tinted with various colors, which only added to the beauty of the landscape before you.
“Shall we?” your husband asked, excited to show you around.
Your eyes shone, “Yes...”
And if you both did something else that afternoon, well, that would stay between you two and the flowers surrounding you.
#naruto#naruto shippuden#itachi x reader#itachi uchiha#itachi x you#itachi uchiha x reader#itachi uchiha headcanons#madara x reader#madara uchiha#madara uchiha x reader#madara x you#madara uchiha headcanons#hashirama senju x reader#hashirama x reader#naruto hashirama#hashirama senju#hashirama senju headcanons#How I wine pon you#The way I wine pon you#Be like a museum#got you looking#boy you can't touch#:b
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Let's celebrate, BuckTommy fam! After the finale, I think it's very clear that:
Lou Ferrigno Jr is coming back for season eight. I actually reached this conclusion after the Access Hollywood interview, but 7x10 sealed the fucking deal. They wouldn't have scheduled that interview if his availability for season eight was still uncertain. Connect that to the finale, which ends with Buck and Tommy still very much together and in an excellent place (and with a daddy kink!), and he's clearly returning. Oh, and while we're at it, Lou has been liking and retweeting content expressing excitement at Tommy being in season eight, for those who are still doubtful. Yeah, that man signed the season eight contract before anyone could even pull out a fucking pen.
Tim Minear wants Tommy to be Buck's endgame romance. Yes, I am fucking going there. I needed to wait for the finale before I reached this conclusion, but now that it's come and gone, there's not a doubt in my mind.
No, this does not mean that I think BuckTommy will actually be endgame. There are a lot of factors outside of Tim's control. For instance, if Lou were to decide he wants to jump ship after season eight, maybe to pursue other career opportunities, then BuckTommy would officially be over, just like that. That's the nature of the game. But if all the stars continue to align, I think it is crystal clear that Tim at least wants it, and Lou and Oliver are currently all-game, and I don't know about y'all, but that's more than enough for me. The Madney wedding kiss was a big clue, but the Bobby and Buck conversation sealed the deal. That conversation shows that Tim is explicitly establishing Tommy as someone who is very different from Buck's previous love interests and is also a representation of Buck's growth as a character. Ask any writer, and they'll tell you that Buck/Bobby scene was fucking huge, mates. That conversation made it clear to me that Tim wants Tommy to be the love interest that finally gets Buck off the hamster wheel. 7x10 just reinforced that even more.
And it's not just the writing that shows this, it's also the press and promo. Name an actress who played one of Buck's previous love interests, who was also included in as much promo and press as Lou? And you can't say Connie Britton, who does not count. (Britton agreed to star in the first season as a favor to Ryan Murphy, so she was always going to be featured heavily in the promo and press, regardless of her character's ties to Buck.) Aside from Britton, you can't. The only other actor is Lou Ferrigno Jr. He was even included in the "thank you for a great season" video with the rest of the cast! They wouldn't be pushing Lou this hard, unless they wanted the audience to see him as a crucial member of the cast moving forward. Do I need to go into the contract extension and how Tim put in so much effort to include Tommy in more scenes? I don't think I do!
Every negative prediction Buddies made about BuckTommy never actually came to pass, and my petty ass is going to celebrate that. (Don't get me wrong, I've always been the 'Why am I gasping? I already knew that' meme when it comes to Buddies being terrible at predicting shit.)
No break up, no Eddie "feelings realization" bullshit, no Buck "abandoning" Tommy to go be with Eddie (Buddies were SO sure Buck would leave the date early to "be with his actual man", only for the date to go exceptionally well and give us a fucking 'daddy' kink lol), AND the cast keeps singing Lou's praises. Buddies are at a nice 0 on the prediction scale. We're good, BuckTommy fam, and we'll keep being good because we're shipping an actual canon pairing, one that the showrunner clearly loves.
I'm going into this summer hiatus on cloud nine. We don't need to justify our ship to anyone, not when the show, its cast, and its showrunner have made it clear they'll be doing the heavy lifting for us. I don't know about y'all, but I'm officially leaving Buddies in the rearview mirror as of today. Enough justifying and defending, I'm moving on to my pure celebratory era. Tim Minear has made it more than clear that he's got our backs.
I mean, damn. Buddies were so sure we were getting a breakup and "feelings realization", only for Tim Minear to give our ship a fucking 'daddy' kink...
What a time to be alive.
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Hey! List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox of the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you
The 5 things that make me happy are...
1. My Family, because they're always with you no matter how bad or different you are 🫶🏼🫶🏼
2. People that are real and that would never hurt you/ my friends at school ☝️😖
3. You guys, y'all are so nice I love y'all so much 🥹🫶🏼
4. Music/Headphones, they help me focus on my stuff that I need to do and makes you feel good ^^
5. My blanket, because it's smooth and warm.
I also just wanted to say thank you to the ones who inspired me to keep on going, on just about everything really
@sonicranger1 @toonstudios @sirensea14 @midnightfire830 @melody-starlight @flutters-to-cuppers @rosewashereyt @lorelai-l0res @questmouse @alice-the-kittycat-yt @f3m09 @ohmygawditssunnyout
Y'all don't know how much y'all mean to mean, but I'm sure you do 😭😭🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
#I WANNA MENTION MORE BUT I'M NOT SURE WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF I TAG MORE 😭#But I hope y'all had an great morning/day/night#ciciandthemeepstalks#I ALSO WANNA THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK#I LOVE IT AND WAS VERY GLAD TO ANSWER IT AHDBDJDVDNFVD#GUYs I ALSO THOUGHT THIS ASK SAID MENTIONED TEN PPL THAT YOU CARE OR LIKED ABOUT AS WELL 😭😭#I know I do a bit much I'm sorry 😭#But yeah I'ma pass this ask around anyway and say what I mean 😌✨
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Sorry if anything sounds weird, English isn't my first language. But could you write a Farah x reader that gets flustered quickly?
Also, mentioned that you had a moth demon OC in the tags of one of your posts, she sounds cool! Could you show her? If you can't no worries 🫶
Hey! Don't worry about your English, it's fine ^^ And yeah, I do have a moth demon OC! Her name is Arya and I love her dearly! The one above is a picture of her in her human form drawn by Castawolf on Etsy and the picture below is one I drew when I was 17 or so! I never said I was an artist, I can't draw at all, so that was the best I could do back then! She'd be beige and a lot more fluffy, though :3 She was kind of inspired the the Radiant from Hollow Knight! Useless trivia, I know, but I just get so excited whenever I get to talk about her!!
Farah with a Reader who gets Flustered Easily
Farah would have a field day with you from time to time. While she won’t go out of her way to fluster you each time, she sometimes will do so. It’s just too cute, the way you go quiet, stumble over your words or fumble around a bit. Yes, she knows that she has to maintain the trust between the two of you, and thus she shouldn’t be playing around with you too much, but come on! It’s so much fun! Sometimes she just has to tease you about it as well and watch you get defensive over your behaviors. It’s all just too endearing to her. Sometimes Farah will stand closer to you than necessary, touch you a bit more than needed, like holding your face in her hands when you won’t stop looking away from her, or just straight up compliments whatever it is you’re doing. If you’re especially close, then she might just give you a kiss to your cheek to watch you hide behind your burger, for example. While she may not be the most cuddle-seeking person out there, she’ll offer you more hugs than usual, if just to watch you freeze up and go speechless. However, only she is allowed to fluster you like that, anyone else needs to grow up and leave you alone. Anyone else could be malevolent and tease you the wrong way. No, she can’t have that. If you’re flustered because of someone else, then Farah won’t take too kindly to it. You’re hers to fluster and no one else. This may or may not be because of the crush she has on you, but she would never admit to such a thing. As far as you’re both concerned she just likes to tease you. But never too harshly, she doesn’t want to see you cry either. Will tone it down a bit if it’s obvious you’ve become uncomfortable and apologize, but it will happen again, I can assure you of that.
#cod#cod x reader#farah karim#farah karim x reader#Farah is honestly so cute I've definitely come to appreciate her even more ever since people started sending in more requests for her#as of late the number of requests I've gotten for her is insane#for the girls in general I'd say#I wake up and all I see are Valeria Farah and Laswell#every day I am haunted by those pretty girls and I get to write for them#also thank you for asking about Arya!! she's my girl and I adore her!!#I actually played as her in my DnD campaign and in BG3 as well!#back when I used to be in the selfship community I used to selfship with her as well#even now I like to imagine her and I being very close! she's a good friend of mine I'd say! helps me get through anxiety inducing situation#I know you didn't ask but she's a mischievous and somewhat cocky asshole who can be a sweetheart as well#I actually created her during my DMCV phase. good times#I just thought it would be really cool to have a demon OC!#so naturally I commissioned someone to draw her! and I commissioned such a great artist for that!!#castawolf is genuinely amazing! I've worked with them twice now and I am so satisfied!!#One of these days I'm gonna share some more art I commissioned because there are some pieces that make my heart sing with glee#but for now I am far too shy to do so haha#anyway if Arya is as much as mentioned I will go mental and talk nonstop about her. but unfortunately there's a tag limit#you'll go free this time anon haha
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what's your wackiest, craziest, most "out there" w359 headcanon?
... i've been really trying to think of something, but i don't know if i have one! what makes headcanons fun for me is in applying what we already know about them to other situations, like, extrapolating their quirks and habits and preferences and opinions on things. even when i talk about stuff the show doesn't explore, i try to keep that grounded in existing characterization and themes, so... i don't know! if i thought something was really out there, that'd mean i don't see the basis for it, so it wouldn't be a headcanon for me? if that makes sense. i wish i had more of an answer!
#at most sometimes i exaggerate traits or like. say eiffel would do things that i don't necessarily think he literally 100% would#but saying that he would is kinda like teasing him for behavior he very much does actually display. if that also makes sense.#but eiffel is great to talk about because he's so. some guy. for the most part he's very predictable. said with love.#you could meet someone like eiffel at a 7-11.#in fact i'm counting on that. well anyway.#thank you for asking!! sorry i don't have a very interesting answer. i think it's one of those things like.#i think it's more fun to analyze what's already there.#but i don't know! maybe i'm missing something and someone i know will reply to this to remind me of something truly bizarre i've said#asks
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(yes i already posted this once by accident and deleted it, yes i made a mistake i am so very sorry, sometimes tumblr does me dirty)
FINALLY!!! AFTER 177382728 YEARS i have got around to drawing the adorable Victoria, @klamv-art 's baby 🥹
I had a lot of fun drawing her and i hope I did her justice 💖💖💖
#eldarya#my art#fanart#klamv-art's victoria#sorry again for the repost and the tagging#ANYWAYS-#do your shoulders hurt from caring the ezarel fandom#🥺🥺🥺#thank you for your service to the fandom btw you feed us so well#ONCE AGAIN only a colored sketch#I'm allerdic to lineart 🤡#and cleaning up my work 🤡#I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND THAT YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY!!!#and yes TWAS I WHO ASKED IF I WOULD DRAW YOUR OC AS AN ANON#*could not would#i was very subtle yes no one realized it was me#even if i followed you right before you got the ask hahahah that was unrelated wdym 😅
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reminder: stop asking SO their opinion on my art.
spoiler: it's always disappointing.
#like idk man. i think i'm getting a little better (disregarding SebbyQUEST obviously) but their reaction is always disheartening#like.. i dunno man.. if i seem a little excited about it maybe don't go 'nice..?' with an audible/unsure question mark#a solid 'nice' would be appreciated#my favorite is still 'ehhhh...... mehh...' ouch#fucks sake mate#and you know what? those reactions would be perfectly fine if they at least had some constructive criticism#or said anything to accompany that#but they don't. so it only feels shitty. (thanks.)#i don't want to feel like the kid whose crappy drawing you put up on the fridge only because you feel bad about it. but that does it.#i am very well aware that i'm.. not great/mediocre at these things. i don't expect more than a lukewarm reaction.#and i know that. and at the end of the day. i'm doing/making these things because i want to. because it brings me some form of joy.#and because i hope to get better with time. but i.. don't think a little encouragement is too much to ask for.#actually i think the best reaction i've gotten from them so far was actually SebbyQUEST. lol. yikes.#sighs. here i go being a whiny lil' bug about it.#bug.txt
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I never liked SonAmy because one-sided romances always hurt and just don’t feel right, but I never considered ShadAmy until I read some of your stories and they appealed to the hopeless romantic in me VERY quickly. You are a phenomenal writer! They just work so well together and I wish we got more interactions between the two. I hope you’re doing well 😊
Man, am I with you. I adore Amy as a character and really want the best for her. I love to think she could find happiness with a character who’d match her passion, whose intense, grounded devotion she’d appreciate in turn. And as far as I’m concerned, Shadow’s the only one who can do justice to that role.
I really appreciate your kind words. I love being able to share all these ideas with people. One of the few good things about their sparse interactions is that so much can be written to fill the gaps. It’s a ship of boundless possibilities, and I’m not stopping anytime soon :)
#ask#anonymous#not a headcanon#i'm doing very well btw! getting back into the swing of things with this blog feels great#thank you <3
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Hello. How are you? I hope you had a good weekend. I just got through watching The Invitation on Netflix and it put me in the mood for a good Harringrove vampire fic. Do you have any recommendations?
I must not pay attention at all during trailers because I had no idea that was a vampire flic 👀 I'm also so behind on Interview with the Vampire, it's a crime orz
It's a wonder the Harringrove fandom still lets me live here because I write a whole bunch, but I rarely finish anything, and I don't actually read much lol so I'm opening this up for anyone who wants to bump their own or their favorite fics, to do so on this post 🌹
My vampire fics are:
Dracula Has a Mullet - s3 rewrite, but Billy's got teeth ~
Sanguis - vampire!Billy x blood donor!Steve
and a mystery fic which definitely wasn't written by me but who's to say ~
#harringrove#vampire!au#fizzigigsimmer#neonponders#fic rec list#thank you for the ask <3#honestly i'm not doing great#so this was very sweet to receive <3#i hope you're doing very well <3
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