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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 17 days

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Silver Lining 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You lay under the covers, hiding. From the world, from the man on the other side of those walls, from yourself. You just want this to be over with. You want to go home and be alone.

You roll over and sink down beneath the flannel and heavy quilt. They smell like laundry detergent. Not a bad smell, just strong. You’re not crying, you won’t let yourself get that far again. You just can’t stop thinking.

Mr. Rogers face imprints in your mind. You just see his face every time you blink. You feel his grip on your, moving you, using you. You whimper as a flash of his office replaces the dim bedroom around you.

You sit up, ready to scream. GO AWAY!

As scalding as the memories you tried so hard to forget is the embarrassment of your outburst. You though you and Bucky were coming to an accord. That you were getting along but he just had to keep pushing and pushing, needling at the sore spot until you came unraveled. You can only blame him so much. You’re responsible for your own behaviour.

You hear the stairs creak and you hug the blankets as you listen. His footfalls come down the hallways and you see his shadow beneath the door. He stops there and you brace yourself for his knock. It doesn’t come. He continues down the hall and clears his throat loudly.

Hinges softly whine and his voice startles you, “hey, yeah it’s me. You get home okay?”

The door shuts out his next words as it clicks sharply. You can hear his muffled tones but you can’t make out the words. He must be on the phone with someone. You think you know who.

You sit up and drag yourself over to the window. You look out at the lazily drifts of snows. It’s slowed but what’s fallen is deep and treacherous. It’s like a scene out of a fantasy show.

You huff and back away from the window. You’re not getting anywhere. You cross your arms and plod around the room, restless as your stomach swims with your dinner and the craft beer. You’ve never been one for alcohol.

You won't sleep like this but you don't know how to go out and face him. Every time you think you've found peace, it crumbles into another petty argument. You don't think you've ever fought so vehemently with anyone. No one's ever pushed your buttons so easily.

His low tones continue to roll through the air as you walk in circles, lost in anxiety. You just have to wait out this storm. After the last blow up, you doubt he'll want to hold you to your promise. He has the script, he can figure it out.

His door opens again. He's silent as you hear his advance outside the room. He stops again, this time he knocks. You stop in place and hesitate.

"Hey, if you're awake..." he says.

You march to the door and open it an inch, peeking out at him, "a-awake."

"Right, uh," he seems almost surprised by your abrupt response, "I just wanted to apologize. Again. I know I keep doing this but I swear I'm trying not to."

"Mm," you purse your lips and nod, "y-yeah..."

"So we can just focus on the podcast. I still wanted to show you the studio... if you're not too tired."

You stare at him. It would be a good distraction, even with him. You can't just hide away. This is his house.

"S-sounds good," you let the door fall open.

His throat bobs and he exhales, "great."

He turns, beckoning you with jab of his finger ahead. You follow him. He's being nice at least. As nice as you can hope for.

He leads you down the stairs and stops in the kitcheb to grab a flashlight from a drawer. The house is getting darker by the minute. He points you to a door across from kitchen.

He opens it and holds it open, waiting for you to descend first. You take the steps on at a time, your hand firmly on the railing. You turn the corner and come to even ground, looking around at the spacious basement as he flashes the beam around, guiding your gaze.

The walls are cover in black-grey sound proofing and a desk is set up with a monitor and microphone, another table with various equipment atop it just on the other side. There's a clear booth build around the desk, likely to keep the sound concentrated in one area. He steps down behind you and you sidle out of his way.

"I've done some sound tests. I think it works pretty good but it's hard with just one person," he explains, "wouldn't mind having a second set of ears..."

He shoves a hand in his pocket as he paces, his other hand moving with his words.

"R-really? Even a-after... earl-earlier?" You ask meekly.

"It's been a stressful day. We can just let it go," he shrugs. "We were getting along, weren't we?"

"Y-yeah," you agree.

"So let's go back to that," he says, "forget everything else. In the morning, the plows will clear all the mess away and I'll take you home but tonight you're going to have to put up with me."

"G-guess I can t-try," you utter as you bring your hands up and rub them together.

"Cold?" He wonders.

You nod. Down here, you can see your breath. He backs up, "let's go. Powers gonna stay out for a while. You're welcome to sleep by the fire for the night. This place is frigid."

"Um, m-maybe," you step past him as he points you upstairs. He trails you, the light glaring around your figure and casting a shadow ahead of you.

"Well, you can at least finish your beer," he insists, "I'll crack a second and see if it doesn't mellow me out."

You nod as you get to the top and move out of his way, "th-thanks."

"Well, you know, I do listen. You were right... about my manners. I'm working on it... trying not to be stubborn old man.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #silver lining #silverfox #au #series #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america

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lewkwoodnco · 3 months

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I got options, babe - Lockwood x Reader

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her from behind Lockwood: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

a/n: the people have spoken so here is part 2 to buy me presents! am so sad i fell a little sick during the hols, threw a terrible wrench in my 12 days of fics plans for last year but i'm alr planning ahead for this year :))) yes its xmas themed but the vibes are close enough to valentines so shush. if i was in the l&co universe i would pay good money to see someone tell george to live laugh love, and i would tip extra if it was lockwood hehe. also I tagged a few extra ppl who seemed interested in a sequel!

warnings/tropes: lockwood x glassmith!reader, mostly fluffy, only a smidge of angst towards the end, clueless lockwood my beloved <3

word count: 2.6k!

buy me presents (pt 1)

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

When Lockwood had shaken George awake plenty of hours before, it had taken a while for George's brain to catch up to what was happening. By the time it did, he was worriedly watching Lockwood animatedly talking to one of the shop assistants from a nearby telephone booth.

"No idea what it is, or why..." he was telling Lucy. Lockwood was looking around for him. George nervously shifted behind one of the bars of the booth.

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam?"

Lockwood was now wearing an aggressively tinseled Santa hat while wielding an identical one. George had a pretty good idea who that was for.

"Er, maybe. But perhaps you should come home too. Just in case."

Lockwood had finally spotted George and was frantically waving him over. George did not like the way the Christmas lights were reflecting in Lockwood's eyes.

"For the love of God, Luce, please come home. You can't leave with me...this."

With a bone-deep sigh, George regretfully hung up and emerged from the telephone booth, smiling weakly at Lockwood.

He was more than grateful for his presence of mind earlier, once they had reached Portland Row. Lucy walked in just minutes after Lockwood's unpleasant realisation about Nicholas and guffawed at the sight of the tiny tsunami of gifts.

"Brilliant," George said. "Your turn." He handed Lucy one of the last presents he had been holding and disappeared into the kitchen. She turned towards Lockwood incredulously, who was indignantly standing in front of the sea of presents with his hands on his hips. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I buy a few gi-"

"In what WORLD is this few-"

"- few gifts, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. It's Christmas, but I'm feeling a lot of negativity pent up here."

"Now you're just deflecting." Lucy rolled her eyes as Lockwood started fishing out some receipts from his pockets.

"Can't a guy spend...uh...three-oh. Oh. That's a lot of zeroes."

"Lockwood. How much did you spend?"

"...suddenly, I don't think I know any numbers past ten."

"Lockwood!"

"I couldn't figure out the installment plans! That's Y/N's job!"

George returned to the front door corridor and started picking up some boxes at random and shaking them experimentally.

"Yeah, a fine job you've left her to sort out your debts! No more shopping till Easter. And George, if you don't steal his wallet, I will."

He held up the present he was holding to Lockwood. "Listen, I don't think Y/N's going to want all of these, so how about I -"

"Absolutely not."

George made a rather rude gesture and disappeared back into the kitchen. Lockwood bent over to start clearing a path through the presents to the stairs.

"How was I supposed to know she was only kidding?"

"You know what her sense of humour's like. George and I would have picked up on it in a second."

A very unhappy Lockwood straightened out from under the avalanche of presents.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A little before lunch, Lockwood knocked on the attic door. It was ajar, and she was reading in a contorted position, all twisted up with a blanket on her rug in the one patch of sunlight in the room, leaning against her bed. She nearly tipped over when Lockwood poked his head in, but caught herself in time.

"Hey."

They stared at each other for a moment. It was the first time they had been alone since the morning's happenings, and it didn't feel as easy to laugh about it all when it was just them. Because the truth was, she didn't find it all that funny. Confusing, yes. Stressful, perhaps. But it wasn't that funny when all the emotions felt excruciatingly true. She closed her book, and Lockwood took another step in, leaning against the bannister.

"I'm sorry about the whole Nicholas thing. I was having a laugh, that's all. I never wanted to make you seem...foolish."

"I don't even remember Nicholas. I mean, that guy."

"Lockwood."

"Who's Loc- I mean, Nicholas? I'm Lockwood."

"Yes, I know."

"And I don't feel foolish. Do you think I'm foolish?"

She smiled at him with rheumy eyes, and his face twisted strangely like he was suppressing his own smile. His eyes drifted to the book in her lap, and the blanket swaddling her face.

"Er, reading?"

"Trying to. The sun's making me feel so sleepy."

"Then move out of the sun. Or take a nap."

She glared at him, scoffing incomprehensibly. "T-take a nap? What am I, 5? And we barely get any sun as it is, I'm trying to thaw my insides."

"Can you even breathe in that?"

She took a wheezing breath. "...yes."

Still, Lockwood sat down next to her, and after a bit of scuffling, she was tipped slightly to her side, leaning against him slightly. She was starting to regret using such a thick blanket through which she barely felt his shoulder. He picked up the book and opened it to the pages her finger was stuck between, and started reading. She closed her eyes and listened. It was some dream to be sitting next to him, without the usual inches between, to hear his honeyed voice ebb and flow, to watch his fingers smooth the pages and fiddle with the edges.

It was mildly disconcerting to hear the shape of his voice take on such a poetic form as if they were in some parallel universe. As if they were in some parallel universe where falling in love was easier than falling asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up on her bed with a jolt, writhing uncomfortably in her blanket. Once she had managed to peel herself out of it, the embarrassment of having fallen asleep on him sunk in. She needed something to take her mind off it and eventually decided to tinker in her workshop. Down in the basement, she had a small makeshift workshop set up for the occasional tinkering or fiddling with some spare parts. It helped her mind relax when her hands had something to do.

She spent a very peaceful hour regluing some tiny diamonds that had fallen off an old watch. That was, until a door banged open from somewhere else in the house, followed by frantic voices. She looked up in alarm as the footsteps drew closer, blinking owlishly behind her magnifying eyeglasses. Her door swung open and Lockwood walked in, closely followed by a barely suppressed silent, but very agitated, George.

“Y/N, look what I found in George’s suitcase.”

Between the panicked sirens blaring in her head and George’s epileptic hand gestures, it was a miracle she was able to process all those words in the right order.

“…oh?”

A frozen smile sat on her face as her eyes nervously darted between the boys’ faces.

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

Lockwood, on the other hand, looked alarmed and touchingly concerned.

“You...you don’t know what a snow globe is? Do they not have snow globes where you’re from?”

“Did you just ask me if they have snow globes…in Hackney?”

He looked slightly miffed, but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long with his foolishly good-natured intentions.

“Look, Lockwood, I’m a little busy here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just…wanted to see if you knew anything about this.” He turns it over in his hand, and even with the shelter of anonymity, she finds herself desperately seeking the approval in his eyes that she had been hoping for. “It’s...it's beautiful. When I first saw it, I thought…” He looks up from the snow globe at her, where she’s holding her breath, and she’s distantly aware of how suspiciously invested she must seem in his answer.

“I thought it had to be you.”

She has his answer, but she still hasn’t let go of that breath, as if keeping at bay all the emotions and hope that will come rushing in with her exhale. He watches her face, and she’s too scared to even twitch. Too scared to come right out and say everything the snow globe meant.

“You thought wrong."

George’s seizure-like convulsions returned with a new vigour. Lockwood continues standing there for another minute, and it makes her think he hasn’t heard her until he regretfully bows his head.

“I suppose. Well, I hope your work won’t keep you long. We'll be having tea soon. Let’s- good God, George, are you having a fit?!”

After their Christmas Eve tea, they exchanged presents, and to call it an awkward affair would have been an understatement. She passed Lockwood the pair of snowman socks. George grudgingly passed him the snow globe. The absurdity of the gifts and their donors made the four of them pause for a moment.

Finally, Lucy broke the quiet by handing out her gifts: mugs with pictures of Inspector Barnes accompanied with cheesy quotes. George's was 'live, laugh, love.' Lockwood's was 'keep calm and carry on.' But everyone was still looking far too solemn, so she nearly had an aneurysm holding back her laughter.

After they all retired to their rooms, she retreated into her chilly workshop. But instead of continuing with her work, she just sat at her desk, brooding a little. A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door as a rather breathless and pink-faced Lockwood poked his head in.

"Still working?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the presents." He turned to step out but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to keep any?"

"I'm sure that I would hate it if we went bankrupt. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, I'll be - yes. Yes, actually. These are a lot of presents. If you could spare the time...I'd really appreciate it."

So after she bundled up in her woollens and wrestled a scarf onto Lockwood, they somehow hurriedly carted the many slightly scuffed shopping bags into the cab, where they only had a brief break to catch their breath, given how close they lived to the shops.

After that, it was a race to hit all the stores before they closed for Christmas Eve. After a couple of rounds, they had developed the fairly efficient system of Lockwood lugging the gifts around while she spoke with the shop assistants. The one drawback to their fine plan, at least for him, was her glancing at the receipts and the too-long numbers at the bottom of them ("Jesus Christ, Lockwood, how did you not have to take out a loan for these? Honestly! Do you think we're made of money?").

Finally, their luck ran out at their very last store, which looked as though it had been closed for hours. She knocked and peered inside feverishly, clutching the very last gift stubbornly.

"No, no, we were so close! Now what do we do?"

"We can come back after the holidays. Or," he gently pried the box out of her fingers, smoothly lifting the top, "you could keep it."

It was a silver charm bracelet, with rapier and lavender charms dangling from the central chain, much like the ones they laid out on jobs. It was beautiful. But she couldn't take it.

"You already gave me a present."

"Have another. A little special something for a special someone."

His cavalier attitude, his foolish smile - in that moment, it was all too much. Her terrible temper flared and she shoved the present into him, forcefully enough to make him stumble a little. She turned and started walking home briskly, fuming silently until he and his long legs finally caught up to her.

"Wha - was it something I said? Y/N? Y/N."

"I don't know, Lockwood." She was sick of his carelessness, sick enough to be a little careless herself, let her tongue run loose. "What have you said? Or haven't said?"

"Y/N, you know I'm terrible at riddles."

"Well, maybe Belinda can help you."

That stuns him enough to make him stop in his tracks. She slows down and, after steeling her fraught nerves, turns around.

"...what does Belinda have to do with anything?"

His hopelessly clueless expression, which typically soothed her anger in their worst fights, only served to infuriate her further here. She walked towards him angrily.

“I didn't want to give you the goddamn snow globe because Belinda exists. All right? Because there are a thousand different girls out there who you’ll like better than me.” There’s a sudden tightness in her chest. With some difficulty, she turns away from him, lightly pressing her sternum. “I can’t compete with them, Lockwood. I won’t let you make me.”

She hears the crunch of the snow under his shoe as he takes a step towards her.

"Belinda is...amazing. She might even be perfect. But even she's just a friend, because...because you exist. And-and I could find...the most perfect girls out there, but the image of you would still be breathing in some corner of my mind. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. It never is."

She sniffed gently. "This might be the right time to tell you that the snow globe...was from me."

She can't decide if she hates or loves how she can hear the smile in his voice. "No. Really?"

She turns back around, smiling sarcastically at him. "Ha-ha. But don't get too excited about it. I made little figurines to represent the four of us at Portland Row, but you can't even see them from the outside. It's ridiculous."

"It's okay. I'll know they're there."

At that moment, she felt a rush of gratitude towards Lockwood. He made everything a little easier, a little sweeter. They were standing so close that she could see a tiny snowflake on one of his eyelashes. She didn't dare breathe.

"There really never was any competition."

"I know."

"Then why does it sound like you don't believe me?"

She frowned. "I do believe you."

"I don't think you do."

"...do you want me to not believe you?"

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There's something you should know."

"Lockwood, I am going to throttle you."

"You're standing under mistletoe."

She glanced upwards, and it was as though all the air had been stolen from her lungs. Against the pitch-black sky and the gentle dusting of snow, a soft white sprig of mistletoe was curling out of the edge of a branch. She lowered her eyes back to Lockwood's, and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned over.

As impossibly close as they were before, they were even closer now, and it still felt like they would spend their whole lives trying to get close enough to each other. She kissed him the way she loved him - desperately, with her whole being. When they broke apart, the tip of his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and there was a light dusting of snow on his hair. In that moment, all she remembered thinking was that none of his presents made a better gift than he did.

As they walked home with fingers tangled together, she realised that they didn't need some parallel universe. In every universe, they would somehow, somewhere, find each other, and dare to love.

TAGLIST: @novelizt @thegreathuxton @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #fanfiction #fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #buy me presents #sabrina carpenter #fluff

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manaofflame · 2 months

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This is some pre-canon one-shot fic practice that may be implemented into the comic. I only made this because of the new art I did, which is below. Some art note, I am just trying out various color profile view thing that the digital art application I used have, because I'm not sure if I'm bad at coloring and choosing color or it's the color profile, I don't know, just trying things out. Siffrin is not a good candidate for this, since his color palette is black and white, oops, but I'm trying stuff out and improving... I hope... Uh, I hope you enjoy!

(Warning: Nothing morbid like blood or worse, but just for people who likes good grammar. I'm bad with past, present and future tense, so, sorry about this. Also, I am bad at remembering some vocabulary, even some basic words! So the writing can feel... simple. Anyway, that's all!)

Sorry for another interruption, this is just in case some technical error happen. You see, some times, when I tried to create some paragraph spacing in the middle of all of these words, some of the paragraphs just straight up vanished and never came back, at least in my screen it doesn't. So I'm not sure if when I post this, those paragraphs will pop out of nowhere. If it does, I will see if I can deal with it. Not sure if this is a common problem, but it happened to me.

Mirabelle is feeling very anxious and nervous. Recently, they had retrieved the fourth orb after a hard battle with the sadness that guards it. With one left to go, their journey is nearing to it's end.

She hadn't been able to sleep, so she decided to take a walk around, to calm herself down.

She stopped suddenly when she spotted Siffrin, looking up at the night sky, looking at the stars again (she's not sure why he likes to do it. She supposed it's pretty, but she felt that there's more to it than simple observation).

She shouldn't be surprise or startled to find Siffrin in the dead of night, and seeing no one is awake right now (or outside like they are), she...

"Siffrin." She softly called out to Siffrin, trying not to startle him, though it seems he already noticed her presence. He's very good at sensing presence amongst the party, it's what allowed him to find Bonnie that time when the rest of them didn't noticed the child.

"Mira, shouldn't you be in bed?" Siffrin asked.

"I should, but I can't sleep. And so should you. I know you like being up at night, but... it's not healthy, being up at night all the time, and we need to be ready and good to go to keep journeying, and... and..." Mirabelle tries to find more answers, but she ran out of it.

"...Mira, you are worried... Why?" Siffrin asked, looking concern. Mirabelle feels a bit jealous that Siffrin is not feeling anxious or worried about this journey at all. She wished she had that kind of confidence. Still, despite that, Mirabelle knows by now, from the time she journeyed with him alongside with everyone, that he's a kind and caring person.

Despite her initial worries due to his mysterious aura and other factors when he first joined, Mirabelle is glad to asked him to join her and help her to save Vaugarde when he saved her and everyone from that powerful sadness.

"I'm.. just worried. We are closing in the end of the journey, there's only one orb left to get before we head to Dormont to get to the House Of Change to defeat the King, but... what if something happen?!"

"Mira."

"What if... one of us die? What if they are crippled permanently for life? What if... What if..."

"Mira, stop. Listen to me."

Mirabelle stops, looking at Siffrin, who's looking at the stars with pained expression, as if thinking of some unpleasant things like memories or something else. He then turns to Mirabelle with a reassuring face.

"It will be alright, Mira. I won't let anything happen to anyone. I won't. Isa, Odile, Bonbon, and you. I won't let anything happen to you." Siffrin declared with a small smile.

...She knows. Siffrin would look out for everyone, and lead everyone to safety, disarming traps and looking out for enemies, making sure nothing bad happen to them.

"..Thanks, Siffrin. I suppose I should stay positive! No need to bring down the morals." Mirabelle replied with a smile, feeling a bit better.

"No problem, I hope it helps." Siffrin hides beneath his hat. Is he being shy again? Cute!

Mirabelle hopes nothing bad will happen to her or anyone, and of course, Siffrin. He's her and their friend after all! She now feel like she could go back to sleep now. She hoped one day she could hug and group hug with Siffrin, but due to his weird aversion to touch as Odile called it, she sadly could not. She hoped one day she could though.

#in stars and time #isat #isat siffrin #siffrin #in stars and time siffrin

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dearhargrove · 2 years

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Ok so!! Imagine showing up to school with Billy and you two are just all over eachother and everyone is absolutely shocked that YOU one of the most popular cheerleaders art Hawkins High, is dating the resident hot shot and Bad boy

(Un)welcome surprise

Billy Hargrove x f!reader

summary Being the most popular girl and cheerleader meant tons of attention. But the only attention that counts was that of your boyfriend, which the school finds out in a rather surprising way.

word count about 1K

tags swearing, reader being whipped for Billy (and him being whipped for reader)

notes hellooo! I saw that my post (change of heart) was appreciated and that made me really happy and motivated!!! So here I am. I love Billy. But you know what's better? Him being whipped. Enjoy this little something, and to the person that requested this; I'm sorry it took so long <3

masterlist | navigation

You'd taken a lot longer than usual to get ready this morning; meaning you didn't have another chance but to call Billy so he could pick you up. Well, you could also walk and be late - but there was nothing more unpleasant than walking into a classroom and having everyone staring at you.

Your car is currently useless. A few days back, after an important game, some idiot of the loser and other school's team had slashed a few tires - including yours.

Billy had only picked you up in a very secretive way so far, making it look like you did walk to everyone else. After quickly crossing the street and walking past a few houses you knocked on the door. Billy opened it for you, already ready for school with his hair styled and his shirt unbottened just the right amount. You knew his morning routine pretty well, so it was assured he'd be the one to open the door instead of someone else.

"Good morning, drive me to school," was all you said before walking back to his car with crossed arms. Not being a morning person added to your fear of being late, so you were extra grumpy today.

Didn't mean a little attention from your boyfriend couldn't make it better.

You watch him yell something to someone in the house (you're guessing it was Max; hopefully this hurried leave you caused wouldn't mean she'd have to skate all the way to school) before he grabs his keys and slams the door shut.

When he's with you he puts an arm around your waist, squeezing a little. "Someone's grumpy," he chuckles and kisses your temple. At this, your resolve and anger crumbles and you slump against him, causing him to huff out in surprise.

"I am," you start, voice whiny, "nothing looked good on me today, my hair actually killed my brush and I would've rather jumped out of the window than gotten up. And then there wasn't enough time for anything!" You explain your disaster of a morning.

He laughs a little and when you elbow him rather harshly he shuts up and sends you a pitiful smile. "Well then, let's go. Get in the car, babe," you do so, getting comfy in the slippery leather seat and putting your bag between your legs.

He starts the car but turns the music down - though only a little you appreciate it, considering he only did it in favor of you.

"Did you eat any breakfast?" He inquires and you sit there in guilty silence, realizing you forgot. "I told you that's important, didn't I, princess?" He asks with a raised eyebrow and clenched jaw. He got pretty sensitive with stuff like this since your health was the most important thing to him (with pretty much everything else surrounding you), as cliché as it was.

"I was in a hurry," is all you manage before your breath stops, because damn, does he look hot when he's agitated. His hair is sitting perfectly as always, his earring dangling due to the uneven streets and his shirt flowing a little in the breeze coming from the open window. You could write an essay over how gone you are for him.

"You're not even listening, are you?" Another guilty silence from you. "Alright, but get something in school, yeah?" You agree and he smiles relieved, setting a hand on your thigh. This in turn distracts you enough to not notice you're already in the school parking lot - right on time for it to be packed full of students.

Unbuckling your seatbelt you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips, promising him to meet him here after school so you could go home together.

What you didn't think of, was all the attention on you two. No one knew you were dating, simply because you'd both decided to keep your relationship a private matter, but due to his and yours very much public kiss everyone definitely knew, now.

When you seperate you make eye contact with some of Steve Harrington's teen friends - their eyes blown wide. With them is standing Max, a small smirk on her face. You didn't doubt she'd known for a while now.

All in all, the day is filled with questions from everyone wanting to know about your business with Billy. It was tiring, and you briefly thought about just going home and pretending to be sick.

It was all worth it in the end, though, when Billy pulled you close and it was just you two for a moment again. Then cheers and oohing erupted and you rolled your eyes, pulling him away by the hand.

Yes, being the most popular girl and cheerleader has its perks. For example everyone being nice and respectful (except the boys from the basketball team - excluding your boyfriend and Steve -, those were horrible) to you. But you also had no privacy, as seemingly everyone needed to always know what exactly you were doing.

"They were so shocked, jeez," you sigh and lean against the headrest. "Mhm. I mean the sweet, perfect student with me? Who would've thought you wanted a troublemaker?" He repeats someone's words humorously.

You laugh at that and smack his arm, "Don't be so silly, they're just curious," he shrugs, "Curious about the wrong thing. Not their business," he's right so you nod, silently agreeing.

When he parks in front of your house he stays seated, probably to go eat somewhere or go straight home. Either way, you wanted him with you now so you open his door and pull him out. "Fulfill your duty as a boyfriend, idiot." And, damn, he's so in love with you.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery

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itstheghostofmypast · 3 months

Text

🌻Imperfections🌻

Draco Malfoy x (f)Reader (Hufflepuff)

Summary: Perfection is what defined those who were above the rest- yet, she could not be part of the perfection that defined him. Defined his society and very presence- defined her own family but not her. She was the imperfection within his world of perfection, the bright sun in his cool, pale blue sky. For even if she was the warm sun, he was nothing more than the silver moon- both destined to live in the same sky but never together.

Genre: Fluff, Angst

AU: NO VOLDEMORT - Plus Cedric is vibing, I'm sorry he's too precious.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts

Part- 4/?

Masterlist / Previous

28th September

I truly fail to understand how a parent cannot love a child. Is blood not to be thicker than water? A being stronger than a name or title, perhaps these were all metaphoric beliefs passed down by a delusional fool, for my family has, and always will, prove to me that my birth is a sigil of shame on the insignia of our family. A birth that only exists for the family archives, in a file locked away behind the vault.

It is only worsened by the letter I had received today- letters actually, though one hurt me more than the other. Mother really is a work of art. I feel like the only bright side of today was meeting Draco. A bit weird- a few screws too tight but he's alright.

Scoffing at the conclusion, he flipped the page, "Like she's any better."

29th September

I have a feeling that I'm going insane. I've done so much, and tried so hard, but that same nightmare keeps haunting me. The moment my head hits the pillow it starts to manifest around me. One minute I'm up in the skies and the next I'm falling and falling and falling.

1st October

I think I've got it, maybe I've been dreaming of falling off the astronomy tower, maybe because I sit so close to the edge. Draco told me to move too- could be it. Sometimes, perhaps, more often than just some, I do wonder if I were to tip-off. What if the only way to end this curse would be to do

Frowning at the statement he flipped over the page, to find a new entry. Why did she stop, what was the cure? Wait, so there was a way to end the curse- but then again, he didn't know what the curse was in the first place. She just assumed it was the fact that she was a Puff- but technically that's not a curse. Well, it is in its way- but not the hex kind. Maybe if he dug into it a bit- no wait, what was he thinking, not only had he made it clear to her how the two were from two different worlds, but she most probably could not even stand listening to his name, let alone have a whole conversation with him- especially one that revolved around such an unpleasant topic. Sighing he flipped onto the next entry.

3rd October

Draco confuses me, at times I feel like we are friends, but only moments later I am reminded about my status, being put back in place. Like that day he was staring at me in class, I could feel it, and when our eyes met...it was like it was just us, no one around us, nothing stopping us- or perhaps I am but a foolish girl, my own heart has begun to play tricks on me. Or maybe I finally saw someone of the same air not judge me? Not belittle me or not look at me with pity. Then he was upset during practice like I was nothing more than a stranger to him, well, I do feel like he was not upset, but jealous, Zabini had come a bit too close for comfort, and if he had not pulled away the fool, I may have let my intrusive thoughts win, much to everyone’s displeasure- especially Cedric.

Why in the good name of Heaven must she mention that fool? Scoffing he scowled at the name, bloody bastard took most of her attention and time- creep needs to be put- wait, did she just? His eyes scanned through the paragraph once more, again, and again, so it was true then. Zabini was right, this sickening feeling of being choked into ecstasy was not a one-sided curse he was suffering, it was her too- well, probably not anymore, considering he had just been humiliated for the last time. He’d be lying if he were to say he felt any joy in doing so, once again, this was done for two reasons; to preserve his reputation and to keep her out of harm’s way. Only this little tactic had begun to take a toll on him, whether he would ever admit it out loud or not, she had slowly seeped into his being, the essence of his soul- his mind (much like now) had been racing with thoughts of her, his fingers would twitch at the subtle thought of her, or if he’d see her in the hallways, during the time of ‘abstaining from the puff’ as Zabini called it. He was itching to feel her warmth, to feel her soft palm against his cold, clammy ones, using her warmth to put an end to the blizzard that had frozen most of him. These thoughts were nothing more than thoughts though, no good came from acting on them, which is why he held back- in fact, he was surprised that he was able to hold back tonight when she was only a breath away before confessing, his brain had malfunctioned, fixated not on the argument but her lips, noting the slight quiver of her lip, wanting to feel them against his, that would explain how he hand ended up confessing, instead of saying something else, something that would have hurt her less. Perhaps, at the end of it all, he was just a hormonal teenage boy, wearing a cloak of pretence- a mere boy, with no self-control, or maturity; so, was he then, imperfect?

4th October

It disgusts me, no, it haunts me, these feelings, these things swirling inside me. I cannot get rid of them; I cannot get rid of him. I feel as if my own heart has it against me, pulling me towards what I can never have, people who will never love me. I fought with Cedric today, it was awful, I felt awful, especially if I consider our history, how he has been nothing more than readily available to pick me up whenever I fell. A part of me enjoys it, embracing it as some kind of love, such as finding a lost duck or an injured animal, one you only help bring back to its feet and then let go of it. Then I wonder if I am no different than a feral animal. Is that what I am to him? Is that what I am to my parents? Does Draco think of me in such a manner as well? Or perhaps I am a mere jester, he is keeping sound for his own amusement. I think of this, yet, I spent hours begging the same fool I fought with in the morning, begging him to give me the handbook for captains. What's funny is he knew, he knew why I wanted it, and while giving it to me he gave me that look. The last time he looked at me like that was when I almost- I mean I was about to do it. Can't anymore though, the grill is installed pretty well. Once again, it was sickening, watching him care for me, being upset over my actions. I had assumed Draco would have the same look when I handed him the book, no, he didn't. It was different, it made me feel different, like a prickling sensation, one that had my imprudent, immature heart struggling against my ribs, wanting to jump into his breast pocket, to be closer to his own.

Slamming the diary shut he sat up, his own hands covering his face, palms pressing against his warm buzzing cheeks. This may have not been a good idea, but she was so hard to read and the fact that she felt this way about him, his parents were never this excited to see him and then this random puff pixie fluttered into his heart. Sighing he slid off the bed, feet pressing against the cold floor, his body too warm for comfort, the enormous room felt like it was closing in on him. Grabbing his robes, he marched out, taking in deep breaths, he was going to do it. He was going to find the cure, he was going to fix this curse, perhaps only then could he be free to have her- even if she was a Hufflepuff. While on his journey up a flight of stairs, he realized how his muscle memory had led him to the astronomy tower once more, but the bubbling cluster of endorphins left no room for annoyance. That’s what surprised him even more, for months, no almost years, he had been wrapped in the claws of every bitter feeling out there, and here he was, just thinking about her, he was willing to throw to waste the efforts of ignoring her for the past few months, impulsively jumping into a puddle of feelings, an unknown territory.

With a boom the door burst open, feet planting firmly on the floor as his eyes scanned the room, nearly missing the figure standing a bit too close to the edge. Closing the door behind him he walked in slowly, trying not to scare the person- her off, a flinch would have been enough for her to topple off. “Hey- get off from there.” He spat, wincing at his tone, really Draco Malfoy, use that tone with someone who is already at the edge, literally and metaphorically.

Flinching at the tone, her head whipped in his direction, what was he doing her? Bloodshot eyes meeting his, watching his expression morph into one that represented terror that is seen in the eyes of a lost child.

“Y/N”

“What…are you doing here?” she whispered, not moving an inch, standing still at her spot.

“I just wanted some fresh air and- get off, get off from there this instance, I- you-move!” stumbling over his words he moved closer to her, only to freeze when she turned back to look up at the sky, taking in a deep breath, closing her eyes, trying to savour the peace she had lost long ago.

“I’m so tired…I’m going to fix this once and for all, so leave.”

“WAIT!”

Sighing at his tone, she opened her eyes, staring ahead. “I’ve never liked the night, it’s dark, I’ve always been afraid of the dark. It’s so quiet you can hear the thoughts of your thoughts, do you know, the lake over there, you can’t go there at night. They have creature patrolling around it, and even if you do make it to the water, they have night watchers in the water. I tried it you know.” With an empty chuckle she pointed ahead, not that he was looking at it, he was far more bothered for her safety, slowly inching closer to her, “But I’ve yearned for it, the darkness, I realised long ago, that this was the only way, but those bloody fools pulled me to the surface before I could fully embrace the cold.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I am terribly sorry, I was wrong, it was wrong and selfish of me.” Whispering he stood a few steps away, “But I promise I’ll help you find the cure and then we can-“

“THIS IS THE CURE YOU FOOL!” turning around in rage, she almost lost her footing, somewhat glad she wouldn’t be facing her end like that, confrontation was never her strong suit, not was looking at the face of her problems, who knew the person who loved to fly across the skies was willing to fall down from grace within the same space.

Never in his life had he moved quicker, perhaps not even in the field, not while playing against Potter, not while running away from his fears, but for her, at that very moment, he realised he would face death itself, fight it with his bare fists, just to keep it away from her. For once he was glad his mind let his body run on autopilot, no argument, no debate or pondering about the pros or cons, but a quick flip of a switch had led him to grip her wrist, jerking her towards him, her body colliding on top of his. The persistent ringing in his ears slowly faded away, trying to rearrange his thoughts he slowly blinked up at the ceiling, his arms tightening around the shivering figure pressed into him, a hand pressed against the back of her head, forcing her to let it all out, pressing her face into his shoulder. He was unsure of wear he had picked up on this, never really one to receive comfort in such a physical manner, let alone provide it to someone else, but once again, she wasn’t just someone else. His other hand gently stroked her back, and slowly it began to piece together, the grills at her window, the disappointment of Cedric, this wasn’t just a one-time occurrence, how could he have missed the signs? He was reading her diary, but was so caught up in his own little emotions like a little school girl that he had not been able to take in the bigger picture, what she had assumed was the solution was not beneficial for her, but for others around her, her family. What kind of twisted lunatic would come up with such a solution? He understood the whole notion of being selfless, but this was not an act of selflessness, it was mere stupidity, why was she to suffer for the lack of tolerance and abundant ignorance her family possessed? Why was she being punished for being herself? Who were they to punish her for something she had no control over? At this point he wondered if the curse was her being a Hufflepuff or being born in a family of bigots.

“Draco?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can you- I mean, can I- umm…”

“I’m still very upset with you.”

“I know but I-

“What.”

Lifting her head up she stared at him, eyes puffy and a nose as red as a cherry, cute- until she placed her hands on either side of his head, watching a faint blush spread across his face. “I know you like me, but skipping to third base isn’t my style.” With that she pressed herself against him ever so slightly, causing him to shift uncomfortably, slowly pushing her off until she way laying beside him, staring at the same spot on the ceiling with him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re the first person I’ve met who says that but doesn’t let me di-

“Shut up.” Turning his head to glare out her he growled, “I swear upon my own life if you ever try to pull something like that again or even think of it, I’ll” pausing for a moment, trying to think of a threat, “…I’ll…do something.”

“I’m sure you will.” Following his movement she met his eyes, “thank you.” Their words slowly turning into hushed whispers, subconsciously moving closer to one another.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I umm…kind of found your diary.”

“…”

“I’m so sorry, I- I couldn’t help myself from reading it.”

Sighing she looked away, choosing to look back up at the ceiling once more, trying to hide her flushed face, clearing her throat, “It’s…okay.”

“In my defense, your expression of writing is beautiful.”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“You’re phrasing and choice of words is immaculate.”

“Okay. We really don’t have to talk about it.”

“I have similar feelings towards you but I was unable to decipher them, but you, no the way you expressed it all-

“And we’re done for the night, thank you very much, I’d like you to” instantly sitting up she dusted off her robes, “return it to me tomorrow, like a good boy.” Eyes darting to his laying figure, noticing the smile that had graced his lips, not one of the small one’s she had seen before, no this was different. It was one of those boyish smiles, wide and cocky, you’d read about in teen romance novels, those sappy things you’d keep under your bed, one that had the girl’s heart leaping with joy, much like hers did at the sight.

“Or we could,” standing up, much taller than her he peered down at her curious gaze, “burn it together. Write something else, something new, something better.” His hand slowly reached for her face, fingers grazing over her warm cheek, trying to keep the urge of kissing her at bay, “What do you think?”

“I’d like that.” Her words but a whisper, too focused on watching him slowly lower to her level, hovering a mere breath above her face, the puffs of their breath mingling together, “Can I…” his eyes flickered to her lips then back at hers, waiting for her approval, one he’d thought she’d readily give him; he was Draco Malfoy after all and on top of that she did like him- as was proven in many pages of her diary.

“Earn it.”

“Thank- excuse me?” He squawked as she gently pushed him away, licking her lips, teasing him- he was sure of it, as she walked towards the door, turning to give him one last look before leaving, closing the door behind her.

“Earn it, Draco Malfoy, can’t write the climax before settling in with a few establishing chapters.”

Oh, he was in one hell of a ride.

A/N: Well, this took forever. Honestly, I wrote several chapters but nothing clicked, finally wrote something which seems decent enough. I hope you all like it- dw the next one is pure fluff.❤️ If you want to be part of my tag list please fill the form on the Navigation Post❤️ (I've tagged a few people who aren't tagged, so I'm not sure why this happened)

Taglist:

@buckyandgeraltsupremacy

@spphrj

@jensfraise

@dramatic-long-coats

@m00nie-m00

@iellasgrave

@danywonderland

@whiterain1997

@writerwriteswriting

@hearmyharmony

@ruethemazerunner

@missstratford

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soleilnomoon · 11 months

Note

Hi again! Still absolutely adore your Kid fic from your last event 💜 Never got around to asking for a Sanji one, so here I am again😅 But seriously, congrats on over 550 followers!! Love seeing your blog grow, cause you’re really talented and deserve them all and legit can’t wait til you hit 1k+ 🥰

For the event order, may I please ask for a #1 with my boi Sanji, with anmitsu, konpeito, and keylime pie and with honey, please? 🥹 i hate this but need some sanji angst 😭

I also dunno if these three would work particularly well together for a prompt, so you can choose whatever! just really feeling angst and sanji rn and maybe comfort if you’d like 🥰

Thank you for all your works you’ve done so far 💜💜

hiiii omg haha i loved that fic fr (i'm obsessed w that man!!!) also ily for requesting sanji i don't write him nearly enough 🥰️ but thank you sm!! 😭 making me all soft and i am so so sorry this took forever, as u know i am so slow but!!! i had fun tormenting sanji w the angst ngl 💓💓💓💓 also those were great choices for the prompt, i wanted to write more but it would've been 8k words before i finished and who has time for that (i do, but listen... that's besides the point) ✨

2k words, fem reader (honestly gn too now that i think abt it), sfw (SHOCKING i know), 18+ mdni, a lil bit suggestive but nothing wild, angst angst angst city babey, fluff if you squint, also i gave u comfort bc u deserve it bb 💗(and sanji does too); feat. sanji being in denial forever and ever, mutual pining, fake unrequited love, reader is determined and sanji is a coward; also i made myself sad writing this but a good sad bc sanji deserves happiness and i'll fight oda if he doesn't get it i s2g... (if u see grammar mistakes/spelling errors... no u didn't 💗)

“loving each other began this way: threading / loneliness into loneliness / patiently, our hands trembling and precise.” — yehuda amichai

STEP 01:

what does it take to kill a soul? —

a question that’s posed unironically, without a hint of remorse or tact, the words precise and venomous, slicing through the thick veneer that he’s carefully crafted. he’s never been able to answer that question — not at six years old, not twelve or fifteen, and not at twenty-one. his siblings took pleasure in taunting him with seemingly philosophical questions, ones that clamped down onto his thoughts with heavy shackles.

even after he’s extracted himself from that life, he can’t scrub those memories from his mind — no matter how hard he tries. they sit, still raw and bloody, giving rise to unpleasant emotions that make his stomach churn from so many things left unsaid. he never set out to be a pirate, but piracy has given him the sort of freedom that he could only wish for as a child.

it’s with tender hands, with nimble yet graceful fingers, and with a fastidiousness that puts him in a category of his own, that he creates and creates and creates —

he’s told he’s an artist, which only pushes him to work harder, to be better. and when he asks himself why, he doesn’t have an answer. or, rather, the answer he does have only serves as a punishing reminder that he’ll never be good enough. no matter how many times his crew mates thank him — their emphatic, genuine praise a soft, warm breeze against his heart, gentle caresses that he commits to memory — despair still manages to infiltrate, a darkness choking out what little light he has left inside of him.

STEP 02:

how far are you willing to go to reach the truth? —

when you join the crew, he’s unnerved by your presence, which is wholly unlike him. usually, he’s able to put on his façade of the flirtatious cook, one that’s jovial and sociable, that lives to serve and please those around him. his first conversation with you ends in disaster; he spills the drink he tried to pour for you, despite your insistence that you are perfectly capable of pouring your own drink — and he knows it’s not out of malice, but it cuts into him all the same.

he tries again and again, bringing you little treats that you only agree to eating if he sits and eats with you; confusion eats away at his mind, and when he opens his mouth to decline, you pat the seat next to you and he acquiesces. he sits stiffly, at first, unsure of why he always feels on edge around you — an irritating need to impress you in a way he’s never wanted to for others grows stronger by the day.

you think it’s cute that he always seems flustered around you — that he stumbles over his words, refuses to hold eye contact with you for longer than thirty seconds — you also think it’s cute that the false bravado that he puts on for the world, diminishes immediately the second you come close to him. if he’s skittish, it’s because you always catch him staring at you; despite his quick reflexes, his reactions around you are slow but pure — childish, almost.

lately he’s clumsier and scatterbrained, nearly burning dinner when you decide to keep him company. you lean against the countertop, a teasing smile on your face — the same one that that caused him to bump his forehead against the cabinet door earlier — as you prattle on about a dream you had. he can barely keep up, his eyes drifting from the skillet to your face, gliding around the curve of your cheek, dipping lower in a slow descent along your neck.

he blinks repeatedly when he reaches your clavicle, stunned at his restraint; and it’s only when you call his name loudly that he realizes he’s left the heat on for too long.

“are you okay?” you ask when you see that he’s fussing over how best to save the dish, mouth moving as he quietly mutters to himself. he barely registers your voice, as an insidious one whispers harshly into his ears about his perpetual incompetence and lack of talent.

you can see that he’s retreated even further into his mind, a feat that also leaves you frustrated. you want to shake him but refrain and grab his hand instead. he snaps out of whatever stupor that held him captive just moments ago, lips parting as he sighs softly before glancing down at you.

“thank you.”

the words are quiet, but impactful, as he didn’t think he’d be able to get them out. you let go of his hand too soon, but he doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on cooking than embarrassing himself again in front of you.

you take his silence as a silent dismissal, but you don’t fight him on it — it’s bitter, that sort of rejection, and you swallow back your argument with great difficulty.

STEP 03:

what’s the difference between cowardice and self-preservation? —

frustration bubbles underneath his skin when he can’t find where he placed his lighter; he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on impulse, accidentally ripping a few strands from his scalp. they swirl and tumble onto the ground, pathetic in a way — just like me, but he never really says that out loud. he doesn’t hear your footsteps, although you did your best to remain as quiet as possible.

a cigarette sits in between his lips, and he has half a mind to toss it over the railing of the ship, but a warmth suddenly appears in front of him in the form of a flame. you found his lighter on the floor earlier and meant to give it to him, but every time you got closer, he found every excuse to leave. you don’t realize the impact you have on him — not really, anyway — because he’s genuinely surprised that you can’t hear the heavy beats of his heart that grow more intolerable the longer he hangs around you.

always afraid of being found out, he opts to keep his distance. it’s easier this way, he tells himself, better. but he doesn’t quite believe that; the evidence is plain as day when his tongue feels like its grown three sizes in the span of seconds, where his words get lost and forgotten. it’s all your fault, he reasons; you who insists on talking candidly with him, who insists on listening to him ramble about his dreams, who absolutely insists on stubbornly tearing down his walls, steadily chipping away without a care in the world. he looks at you as if you are the source of all his problems, but he also looks at you as if you’re the solution.

the intensity behind his stare makes your hands tremble slightly, it’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep yourself composed for this long. you light the end of his cigarette with ease, as if you’ve done this for him hundreds of times —and place the lighter into his pants pocket afterwards. if he wasn’t so used to you getting in his personal space all the time, he’d retreat immediately. the proximity is almost too much for him, but he doesn’t step back; you take that as a good sign and keep him company for a few minutes.

you don’t care for the smell of smoke, but on him it smells good. you almost tell him that, but instead bite down on your lip and keep your comment at bay, nerves getting the best of you as you nearly choke on the possibility that your feelings won’t be reciprocated.

another time, maybe. cheeks flushed, you turn your face to look elsewhere. although, you wonder if there ever will be another time. with him, you never know.

he’s still trying to figure you out and why he feels a different sort of calm around you; it’s alarming and new, drumming up an irrational fear within him. he doesn’t think he’s deserving of your attention or affection, and he’s convinced himself that you don’t harbor any romantic feelings for him. and why would you?

one by one, his thoughts pummel into him, acerbic and overwhelming. he exhales a sliver of smoke and puts the cigarette out. he gives you a quick, apologetic look before telling you goodnight, the smile on his face is melancholic and barely existent. you don’t dare say a word, keep your lips pressed together stubbornly; exasperated and dejected, you don’t know what’s worse — his inability to lower his guard around you for longer than ten minutes, or your inability to stop yourself from trying to carve pieces of yourself to give to him.

maybe if you helped him fill the gaping holes in his heart, he’d truly understand how you feel.

STEP 04:

if you had to do it all over again, would you do anything differently? —

sleep evades you after that night, and the night after that, and so forth; it gets so bad that you’re yawning in the middle of the day, falling asleep before you can have a cup of coffee or tea. this does not go unnoticed by the others, and after talking with nami, you feel less out of your element and finally can see the parts of sanji that he wants to keep hidden. her advice is simple: approach slowly and with intent; corner him and don’t let him escape.

you bide your time, full confident that you can find a moment to sit down with him and talk this all out. it doesn’t come easy, but franky mysteriously swaps sanji for the night’s watch — something that should strike you as odd, but it’s a small opening that you take without thinking as you hurriedly climb up to the crow’s nest with a renewed sort of energy.

even with his eyes closed, as he sits lazily on the bench with head tilted back against the wall, he knows it’s you.

“go back to bed,” he says firmly, refusing to look at you.

your stubbornness, unfortunately, wins out. “i’m staying.” at that he sits up, his attention completely on you as his eyes widen at your words. he wants to ask you why, but cowardice wins out — again. as his features soften, a flush crawls along his face, lightly painting his cheeks pink. he closes his eyes again, tries to steady his breathing as he counts backwards, only for his efforts to be obliterated with ease the moment you sit next to him.

as your thigh presses against his, you take his hand and on impulse you trace your fingertip along the lines on his palm. he watches you with a morbid fascination that scares him; but then you start to say things like, “you will live a very long life,” and “you are courageous, and you have a big heart.”

a small part of him wants to pull his hand away, so you won’t say anything else — but he remains put, so still that you almost think he’s stopped breathing. your voice is sweet and disarming, even when you carry on this charade of reading his palm. a belated realization hits him forcefully, making him blink several times; it dawns on him that you’ve always been so kind and gentle with him, even when you teased him. he’s spent all this time overthinking and hiding behind his past, that it never occurred to him that he could have simply let you in. you’ve never given him reason to believe that you’d betray or harm him intentionally.

he takes a deep breath, voice a little uneven, “i—”

you lean in close, adoration dripping onto your words as you interrupt him. “hey, have i told you?” the question glides along his skin, the words seeping into him as you continue, the lilt in your voice a honeyed, melodic spell. “you remind me of starlight and the mysteries of space.” your lips brush against his when you tell him that, and a warmth settles into the middle of his chest, makes it hard to focus. he doesn’t think when he curls his fingers around yours and doesn’t think when heleans down to kiss you — tender yet electrifying all the same.

the move disarms you in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to you, so you simply hum in approval and lean your head against his shoulder. a comfortable silence settles around you both, but you don’t mind that at all; it’s nice, not having to tip-toe around him anymore, and the demons that plagued him for so long don’t seem so intimidating with you by his side.

#fic request #milestone event #500+ followers event #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭#one piece angst #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji angst #sanji fluff #i love sanji a normal amt as u can tell

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lovetimdrake · 1 year

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I'm a little bored, so I'll be posting a snippet of one of the two UPCOMING AU's I'm currently writing! Consider it a free treat or whatever, but all you need to know about the plot is that Tim isn't a cape in this one and never figured out who Batman is, and finds Jason incredibly hot annoying. This would be their second encounter

Tim walked off the campus grounds to head to the bus stop, deaf to Kon's response on the phone. He stopped walking when the bus he needed to take home drove right past him.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He hissed, interrupting whatever Conner was saying.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Tim clenched his jaw out of irritation, kicking a small rock on the sidewalk.

"I just missed my stupid bus," Tim groaned. "Hey, I'll call you back when I'm home." He ended the call before he even gave Conner a chance to reply. Tim pushed his headphones off his head to his neck after he walked to the bus stop in front of Gotham C, defeated, to check when the next bus would come.

Tim scoffed. The next bus was scheduled to drop by in an hour.

Why was he always the victim of this city's cruelty?

"Yo, happy meal."

Tim turned his head to the left, and saw Jason across the street, leaning against a black Harley with a cigarette between his fingers. His white lock stood out against his black hair and hung in front of his forehead. He was in dark blue jeans and a leather jacket over a hoodie, halfway seated on the motorcycle as he eyed Tim with a lazy smirk.

Thinking about it, the motorcycle suited him. It suited his looks, his behavior and the vibe he gave off. He could picture Jason riding a motorcycle with ease, helmet on and leather jacket flowing behind him as he sped down a high way, his thighs straddled over the...

Holy fucking hell. Since when did he have a thing for guys with motorcycles?

"Earth to shrimp."

Tim blinked, focusing on Jason again. He caught Jason arching an eyebrow as he crossed the street, and once he got close enough his next words went flying out of his mouth.

"Are you stalking me?" He furrowed his eyebrows. It sounded like the accusation that it was.

Jason nonchalantly lifted his hand to take a drag from his cigarette. "Don't flatter yourself. You have more of a stalker vibe than I do, chicken nugget." He replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Tim managed a scoff. "Interesting conclusion you got there, Sherlock."

Jason gave a cocky smile, the teasing words ready on his tongue. He tried not to fall into that smile. "You were staring. Am I nice to look at?"

"Yeah. Your Asshole with a motorcycle vibe really gets me going."

Jason barked a laugh, the filter of the cigarette held to his lips again. Tim didn't get distracted by the way his lips wrapped around it perfectly. Jason hummed in thought and crossed his arms over his chest after he dropped the cigarette to the ground. He squished the last bits of fire underneath his heel, eyes still locked on Tim as he did so, and blew a cloud of smoke into his face. Tim's expression remained unfazed.

"Good to know I'm pulling it off."

"Really nice," he didn't even bother hiding the sarcasm. "Well, it was unpleasant to see you, but I gotta go." He said with finality, turning to walk away.

"Hey!" Jason called to get him to stay. "Where are you headed?"

Tim stopped and looked back at him. "Why do you ask?" He asked warily.

Jason rolled his eyes, morphing his expression into nothing but pure annoyance. "If you cared to look up, you'd see a storm's coming up and I saw you miss your bus. I'm offering you a ride, detective."

As if on cue, a loud and threatening thunder came from the sky. He stared, a little dumbfounded. "A ride?"

The guy groaned, completely unimpressed with his inability to understand what he was offering. He pushed himself off the motorcycle and grabbed the helmet, reaching it out towards Tim. "Are you coming or not? You're more than welcome to stand in the rain for an hour."

A few seconds of thought and another grumbling thunder was all Tim needed to accept the helmet.

#jaytim #jaytim fic #wip #Tim finds Jason hot and annoying wbk #Jason is a terrible flirt #bilwrites

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gaybananabread · 9 months

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(Hi again) Srry- can u do a lee!Nezha and Ler!Mei I got them mixed up arry, have a good day :>

Mmmm I love this show! Nezha got so much screentime recently, I can finally get a good feel for his character! It's a bit short, writer's block has come for me. (-_-) Hope this isn't too OOC, Enjoy!

Lee: Nezha

Ler: Mei

Summary: Nezha is brooding, as per usual. When he makes one too many quips towards Mei, she takes things into her own hands to cheer him up.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!

Nezha, as per usual, was grumpy. His signature frown on his face, he stared out the window, mulling over the plan in his head. He knew Wukong was crazy, but this... They have a very real chance of dying. That, as much as he hates to admit it, scares him. He almost died in the last fight, and he had the Jade Emporer's army assisting him. Now all he has is this... rag-tag band of friendly newbie-heros and their crazy mentors.

Mei walks in on his brooding session, sighing when she sees him. This boy can never just relax, can he? She walks over, speaking loudly to get his attention.

"Hey princy, why're you brooding?" Nezha huffed when he heard her voice, closing his eyes. Goodbye, relative peace.

"Why must you always be so nosy?" She gasps dramatically, feinging offense. It was rather noisy, in his opinion. "...And loud?"

Mei crossed her arms, expecting the annoyed answer. "I don't know, maybe because I care that you're upset, and that nobody is just naturally that grumpy. I'll ask again, what's bugging you?"

His response is snarky and curt, keeping his eyes on the window. "You're 'bugging' me with your incessant yapping. I'm **fine**, dragon horse girl. I am Nezha, the third lotus prince. I need no help, especially not that of a nosy mortal."

She scoffs, sitting down beside him. "Listen, Nezha. I know too many people with issues to believe that you're fine. It's okay to have emotions, but it's not okay to bottle them up. You'll feel better if you talk about it."

Nezha rolls his eyes. The girl might have a point, but he's an immortal being. He has lived her lifespan many thousands of times over. How could she possibly help him?

"I'd feel better if you *stopped* talking about it. Actually, just stop talking all together."

"Oho, that is *it!*" Mei launched herself at the prince, being mindful of his wounds. Due to the surprise and injuries, she had him pinned in seconds.

He thrashed around, not able to move much due to the injuries. He also didn't want to hurt the girl, as much as he might vocalize it. Wukong would kill him. "What the- get off me, mortal!"

"Neh, I don't think I will. You're all crabby and broody, way more than normal. I think you need an attitude adjustment." She brought a hand to his torso, tapping her fingers on his belly. He huffed, trying not to flinch at the gentle touch.

Not this fuzzy nonsense. Wukong had shown him this crazy mortal ritual before. It was unfortunately very effective on him. He yanked at his arms, feeling a nagging pain in his side when he did so. So much for the mighty lotus prince...

Mei saw the pained expression and relaxed her hold, just enough for him to move but not escape. "I'm not gonna be mean, Nezha. You need to smile man, all this moping is getting sad. I'll go slow, okay?"

The prince scoffed, but didn't say no. He was honestly feeling pretty bad, it would be decent to laugh it off. He hoped the girl would take the hint. The feeling is mildly unpleasant, but he needs to forget about the mission for a moment.

She took his silence as a yes. With a chuckle, Mei gently skittered across his belly, carefully avoiding his injuries. Anyone with eyes could tell he needed a distraction. Lucky for him, she knew exactly how to help.

At first, Nazha bit his lip, refusing to make any noise. He agreed, but that doesn't mean he would make it easy for her. He has a reputation to protect, after all.

It doesn't phase her, she kinda expected him to be a challenge. More fun for her. Keeping her promise, Mei took things slow, moving her hand to lightly scribble at his uninjured ribs.

This broke him. Small, poorly repressed giggles slipped past his defenses. The lotus prince squirmed, knowing it wouldn't do him any good. He slowly let his guard down as more giggles bounced out of him. "Mhmehehe! Noho!" His cheeks gained a pink tint as he "fought" the feeling.

Mei tried not to coo at the sight, keeping her teasing to a minimum. He's injured, best not to kill him. She smirked down at him, speeding up the tickling. "You're actually pretty cute when you aren't sassing me."

"Qu-quihihiet, mohortal!" Nezha started to squirm more, acting like he was against the tickles. Who he was pretending for is unknown. He doesn't mind the feeling exactly, and it was helping to keep his mind off the upcoming battle.

It was quite the sight. The ever-grumpy Nezha, squirming and giggling while pinned down by a mortal. Mei wished she had her phone on her.

As much as she was enjoying the giggling, Mei had yet to hear actual laughter. Inching her hand upwards, she slowly made her way to his armpit. Before she could get there, Nezha yelped and tried to twist away from her fingers. Bingo.

She had found his sweet spot. Right under his armpit, at the top of his ribcage. Nezha, who had been strangely unresponsive this whole time, started to babble out protests. Mei promised to he gentle, but a few seconds on the spot wouldn't kill him...

"Wahait- nononohOHOHOHO!" The prince kicked and squirmed, the sudden intense feeling more than he could ever prepare for. Loud, almost happy laughter poured from his mouth, nose scrunched up and eyes shut tight. Anyone who walked in on the scene would have melted at the sight. He looked... like he was enjoying himself, to a degree.

Mei allowed herself to coo this time, smiking down at him. "This is actually adorable. I should've done this way sooner, who knew you'd be so ticklish!" The word sent a flurry of butterflies loose in his stomach, bouncing around with the laughter and shocks to his nervous system.

Nezha's mind was practically goop. And, if he's being honest, he didn't mind it. It felt nice to just let himself go, to stop worrying about all little details of everything and just laugh. He trusted Mei, and could finally relax a bit.

This continued on for a few minutes. Mei scribbling along his ribs, drilling in on that dreaded spot every so often. Nezha just existing in the moment, enjoying the odd comfort the feeling brought. It was a nice way to unwind before the big fight.

Unbeknownst to them both, Wukong sat up in the rafters, taking plenty of pictures. He wouldn't be cruel, but a quick text to the right people would help the broody prince relax in the future. Maybe he'd even crack a smile every once in a while. Only one way to find out...

#lmk tickle #lee!nezha #ler!mei #ticklish!nezha #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #lego monkie kid tickle #lmk nezha #lmk mei #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk fic

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sapphyreopal5 · 24 days

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Y'know, I am very interested about Psychic guy (vigdissigritr) who wrote this comment, before wicked witch (Danneel) deleted it. And you say on your post you did speak with psychic guy. I want do know did he say more information anything about Danneel?

Me? I do still believe Danneel will get her karma for all the bad deeds she did during years of messing around with Jesnen's free will and ruining innocent people's lives by her spell works. Trust me, I think Danneel messed up with the wrong person who is protected by god and their ancestors.

I still believe Jensen is good man. I wish everyone would give him chance. I think Danneel is problem.

Hello Anon, thank you for the ask. I had a feeling an ask of this nature was coming my way soon and you delivered! :D So, I understand you are concerned about Jensen's well-being and have been made aware of her having done witchcraft from the getgo. Frankly, I believe that any spell used to attract a specific person is in fact black magic because if it's meant to be it'll be. The song "Meant to Be" by Bebe Rexha would be a great thing for Danneel and Gen both to listen and take to heart, as well as anyone else considering doing any love spells.

🎶So, won't you ride with me, ride with me? See where this thing goes If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, if it's meant to be🎶

and also

🎵I ain't gonna lie, ain't gonna lie 'Cause I'm tired of the fake love, show me what you're made of Boy, make me believe🎵

youtube

If it's NOT meant to be... Let. It. Go. Seriously, if you're that desperate enough to do black magic on someone else just to keep or attract them (or should I say lure them in), YOU are the problem not life itself. This life just ain't that serious you guys, let it go for real ha ha. I believe on a personal note, my ex himself used black magic on me, as I overheard him say one night when I was supposed to be asleep "I never pray I know but please, bring Ellie back for good and let me keep her". This is when I was technically moved out in Summer 2018 but only went back because I couldn't get off the lease. From what my guides have told me, black magic lasts at max about 30 years but I feel like somewhere close to 15 years or so is about average. With my ex, it didn't even last a year LOL! I explained here what black magic really is as far as divine blueprints goes and how it relates to the divine plans, along with explaining what divine blueprints and divine plans are. I decided to copy and paste magic in terms of white, gray, and black with respect to divine blueprints from that post of mine below for your reference.

* White magic is the manifestation of so called original divine blueprints, or what was always meant to happen. * Gray magic is the manifestation of so called fixes to one's divine blueprints and plans after someone has tried using black magic after their astral body tried "tampering" with someone's divine blueprints and plans through the computer located in Cloud Nine. Of course, these fixes sometimes come at the cost of someone else. An example of this is if a woman loses a job but shouldn't have. The fix could be where she gets another job; naturally since there's only 1 job, someone else who should've gotten that job does not get it and another version of that person's divine blueprints ends up manifesting or their divine blueprints have to get "fixed" too, and so on and so forth. * Black magic is the manifestation of so called tampers meant to benefit the person using it at the expense of others. For example, someone may use black magic to get revenge on someone else, get wealthy, etc. This is where someone's astral body (the astral body of the physical person who is trying to make a good landmark event or several occur to them at the expense of someone else) "tampers" with someone else's divine blueprints by adding in an unpleasant landmark event or several. In some horrifying cases, this can be say the death of a spouse via workplace accident in order to get settlement money from their dead spouse's former employer. The maximum amount of time someone can benefit from using black magic is about 30 years. All black magic does is ultimately delay the unpleasant landmark events in their own divine plans and making the pleasant landmark events occur sooner. What goes up must come down. People using black magic may have many good things happen to them at once, but they will also experience many bad things eventually.

However, I am going to say this about free will before I carry on talking about what else this psychic said about Danneel. People on Earth assume free will pertains to us being able to make choices, to move how we want, act how we want, etc. without being controlled. Here is the thing, in other places where there is no free will they can still make choices, move how they want, act how they want, eat what they want, all of that. So, what the heck is free will? Free will is more or less being able to make choices that harm or even kill others for selfish gain. Free will is essentially the capability of messing with someone else's divine blueprints in order to benefit themselves. Free will is the capability of doing things like murder for reasons like greed, revenge, etc. Free will is the capability of "stealing from others" as this psychic puts it (in short, like I said making bad things happen to them so good things happen to you).

Here, I am establishing that this guy does not know Jensen or Jared, doesn't follow them, etc.

Here, he mentions some health issues of Jensen's going back to Danneel. He sometimes says Daniel or Danielle I believe because this is what the translator he uses does but I know he meant Danneel so please read these as such.

Now, he also mentioned that he doesn't believe Danneel wrote the birthday post but it was Jensen because "it's necessary".

He also brought up some marriage issues going on as well.

This is where he talked more about Danneel and Witchcraft.

These go a little out of order because I'm trying to put similar messages together and also excluded a lot of them out of course as I wanted to highlight the things he said. I did tell him some things of course about things I've written about on here and such. I withheld a lot of info from him to see what all he picks up and see he does pick up a lot as a seer and as someone who doesn't know much about Jensen at all. Below, he talks about world karma and then I wanted to put in this screenshot set below that he mentioned May or June is when he believes things are gonna start panning out and also the said "aftermath" after she is exorcised from his life.

As for what else was said about Danneel's eventual fate... and yes Gen Padalecki is who he was talking about with regards to who she met with "yesterday" (this past Saturday, 3/30/2024)...

Hmmm. Even though I believe some of the messages he is receiving require "interpretation work" with what is really meant as far as who is speaking to him goes, I do think he has a lot of things correct about what her fate will be and how things will eventually pan out okay for Jensen. You mess with someone else's divine blueprints for personal gain and you will suffer consequences...

#black magic #anti danneel #anti elta #psychic messages #psychic #channeled message #divination #anti genevieve

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darksolace18 · 2 months

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The Story of City of Valoria (2)

Part 1

Masterlist

Warning : This story contains mentions and description of violence, blood, gore, torture, smut, snake hybrid smut, betrayal, angst and negetive emotions and slight religious aspects.

--------------------------------------------------

Introductions

Being carried by a winged girl sounded a lot like a fantastic moment.

But in reality? It was far more unpleasant.

More so because the girl who was carrying Luna was a fucking lunatic.

The girl decided in that moment that she would swoop down like an actual bird in immense speed and would just burst into a random hallway through a big window.

Hell, she doesn't even give luna the time to react or scream.

"Come on now, chop chop. You gotta mee the Solcists' first and foremost" Luna heard the girl before she was once again dragged to god knows where.

Luna felt sick of being dragged around.

Now, she had finally gotten a grasp on her wits as the haze of being in a new place wore off.

And she was in high alert.

She dug her feet onto the marble flooring and stopped the girl from dragging her along further.

Her best friend turned back with a raised eyebrow.

"You will first answer my questions. Then I will go" Luna demands.

"Yes Yes I'll answer everything after we are done meeting the Solcists'"

"No" Luna declares and crosses her arms across her chest.

She could see the slight sigh of annoyance leave the winged girl as she looked at her.

"Just listen to me, there is a lot of time. But the Solcists' want to meet you-"

"Frankly, I do not care. Tell me what is going on or else I am not even moving an inch" Luna States stubbornly.

The winged girl let out a frustrated grunt and she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

She forgot how fucking stubborn she could be.

But, she tried NOT to lose her patience, as she deeply breathed.

"I will explain EVERYTHING, AFTER WE GO INTRODUCE OURSELVES TO THE SOLCISTS', YEAH?" there was an odd strain in her voice which deterred Luna. But, she was adamant.

"No. Explain to me-"

"Ah, Asael. I see you have not abandoned your job early this time" A very pleasant male voice floated through both their ears.

Luna's eyebrow perked up, Asael?

The winged girl groaned, facepalming.

"Fucking prick" She cursed as she removed her hands and looked at the sunshine looking guy.

"Hello, Jade" she sneered out.

Luna was utterly confused. That was her best friends name? But-

Luna shot a very much betrayed look at her best friend, who did not even glance at her.

Luna could feel herself grow angrier.

"You even fucking hid your original name from me?" Luna gritted out.

The girl gasped and looked at luna with a frantic look "What? n-No that's not-"

"Then WHAT?" Luna yelled out, not being able to keep it in anymore.

She sighed, giving her wings a shake.She looked at Luna with squinting eyes "I uh- The name you know IS actually my real name. The ones these people know are my praeside name. Basically I got by a fake name here. Only close people know my real name"

Luna did not know how to answer to that.

"Uh huh, some of us still know her name is-"

"Why are you here Jade? No work today or what?" The girl sneers at him.

Then it suddenly clicked in Luna's mind.

"Jade? As in ex boyfriend jade?" She whispers.

She recieves a subtle nod.

Luna grimaced at it. Who knew that good for nothing guy was also a part of all this fairy tale.

Not like he was any prince charming or something.

"Oh I'm here because I had to tell you that you should bind your wings, it's covering the floor in glitter and also, you know..to introduce myself to the new commer, now that I see it's Luna. Hey Luna, How are you?" He asks.

Luna simply rolls her eyes and picks on her nails with a bored expression "Better now that you are gone from my best friends life."

Jade's smile crumbles, as he looks ar her with a strained expression.

"Look, i dont understand why WE can not be friends. I mean, even your 'best friend' doesn't show her hate for me openly" Jade speaks out, pointing at her arrogantly.

Luna knew, her best friend couldn't actually hate him. She knew all about it. Which is why she will be the one to hate on him in place of her soft hearted best friend.

"Yeah, cause she actually is a proffessional, even though I don't know what job she does. I'm sure we have a very important appointment to be at. Please, do you mind dragging your ass back away to wherever you came from?" Luna speaks out, unable to keep herself from spitting fire. If she could, she would even throw a shoe at him. But she had to tread carefully out here.

Jade Snickers and shakes his head "Maybe, just for your information, I'm one of the Solcists'. Militia. Basically I look after the military. What, did your personal praeside did not teach you the new rules and words? Where did your proffessionalism go praeside, pray tell" Jade shoots, glaring at the girl as she lowers her head, jaws clenched yet speaking nothing.

Luna understood these Solcists' were someone of a high profile, and she was bummed out that this idiot was one of them. But seeing her best friend keeping quiet was something that made her angry.

So, Luna slipped off her shoe immediately and threw it directly at Jade,hitting him square in his face.

His head cracked back at the harsh impact as he let out a loud yell, flopping down on the floor, barely conscious.

Just then, a perky looking woman holding a bag full of something ventured into the hallway, humming a sweet tune but stopped as soon as she saw Jade's unconscious form.

She schreeched so loud that Luna could feel her ear drums burst.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BABY-"

Luna Snickered, "YOUR baby?!"

"Jade has his own fanclub" the girl beside her spoke, rolling her eyes at the screeching banshee girl.

she was spewing absolute nonsense which none of the duo cared for. But Luna was not a patient woman.

"Can you please quiet down? You polluting our minds" She groans out, unable to hold her tongue.

The banshee girl gasps, then lets out something like a growl.

"You will PAY for it you filthy iuven" She lets out.

Luna was confused, iuven?

But before she could ask, her best friend stepped forth and stood up straighter, wings fluttering behind her.

Her back straightened and Luna could practically FEEL the authority oozing out of the winged girl.

"René, I think you are overstepping your boundaries. You must have forgotten who holds the authority here. But, just to jog your memory, it's me and the man who is currently unconscious on your lap. And, I don't think he would be angry with me, but i do know he needs to be in the infirmiry. It's better you get going, and never degrade this iuven ever again." With that, and a single snap of her finger, both the girl and jade were gone.

Her wings jerked and fluttered in an irritated manner as she huffed, turning to look back at Luna. "Fucking sirens" she muttered.

Luna looked at her with a very familiar gaze making the girl sigh for the enth time.

"Iuven means newcomer. You're new. And I'm your gaurdian of sort." She clarifies.

"Wait wait hol up, gaurdian? And what is a praeside? I'm so fucking confused" Luna States.

"Praesides are those people who are assigned to escort newcomers. Basically, me. And I usually ditch those people at the meadow where you were and they find this place by themselves. But i couldn't just ditch you so- VIP treatment for you? And please can we just go and meet them? The girl says, her face holding and awkwardly wobbly smile.

Luna could see the girl shuffle on her feet, itching and irritated to get things done.

".....Fine. But don't think your out of it just yet. You still have to answer my questions. And trust me, I have a fucking LOT" Luna says as the girl beams at her.

"Yes ofcourse honey, let's go" the girl says excitedly, before yet again dragging poor luna again.

Luna could finally, look around the massive hallway through which both of them weaved through.

Luna noticed the whole estate was a soft warm themed, with golden murals and etchings. Several normal and also odd looking people have brushed by Luna, making her look at them in awe.

Some had weird coloured eyes, some had wheels in place of legs and some looked completely normal.

Not that she minded, it wa all kind of fascinating to watch.

Soon, she found her best friend stopping infront of a giant double door with a sigil on it.

The girl straighter her back and she looked at Luna and nodded.

"Don't be scared, they just wanna see your face yeah?" Luna heard the girl, before she pushed open the door and entered.

Luna also trailed behind her, shoes clicking against the marble floor.

There, sitting by a round table, were five people.

They emanated a aura of power and respect which was extremely impressive for Luna.

The girl beside her bows, and says "This is the new iuven, I have personally taken her under my wings"

A woman with green patches across her skin and blue hair smiled at her "Is the pun intended?" She said, making the room bursts out into a series of chuckles.

Even Luna could not hold it back.

"Uh..no. I just had no other way to avoid it" The wing girl says.

The same woman smiles yet again, moving her eyes towards Luna "Hello dear, I hope you had no trouble coming here? I hope you didn't get lost?" She asks her.

Luna tilted her head, "No, ma'am. There was no problem. She showed me the way" Luna says, pointing at the winged girl behind her.

The whole room gasped. A man with a salt and pepper beard, clad in dark robes was particularly more shocked. "THIS rock actually guided you here and did not just stranded out there?"

Luna nods as a reply.

"Well that sure is not something you see everyday" Another man with orange hair said, picking on his nails.

"You must be tired, you can go and rest up. I'm sure you have a lot of questions to ask her" Another woman with pink hair stated, motioning towards the door.

Luna turned around to leave, along with the winged girl but stopped.

"Luna, can you wait outside for a moment? We have something to discuss" the man with orange hair asked.

Luna shot a look at the girl, who simply nodded and guided her outside by the door, and shut the door.

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 1 year

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tuesday again 3/21/2023

i didn't want to sit down and write this bc i was having too much fun playing viddy gaem

listening

IT'S QUICKER AND EASIER TO EAT YOUR YOUNG!!!

"i'm starving...darling,,," is very sexy but the way the lyrics slowly slide into something more and more horrifying until the chorus hits??? mwah. lovely.

my one critique is that this song is...breathy, for lack of a better word? does not showcase the man's magnificent pipes. oh well! there are other songs.

youtube

how'd i find this: im gay, also he is one of the most popular indie artists in the World. his first album went platinum six fucking times.

reading

i read all of frank miller's sin city bc im on a noir kick and i didn't have a good time. the closest i got to fun was (deadly little, always described as "deadly little") Miho, a mute japanese??? generic asian??? assassin who is tits out not in these panels but in almost all others, rollerblading around mowing down guys with her katana. that was a painful sentence to write.

i read a lot of genre fiction. i read a lot of older genre fiction. they are not written with me, a bisexual "woman", in mind. and that’s ok bc not everything has to be written with me in mind. rarely have i read something that is more For The Boys Only!!! than frank miller’s sin city. felt kind of gross and a little put off the whole time i read these and they made me a little bit upset and afraid of men in a way i have not felt since high school. now it does feel odd to go “i didn’t think this noir was very pleasant >:(“ but miller’s work feels unpleasant and distinct from, say, chandler or hammett in a way i am still having trouble articulating. it is possible that the misogyny in chandler is a flavor i already know and barely register the taste of anymore. it may be that i got tired of looking at miller's women with twelve-inch waists and nipples as full and perky as their mouths.

mostly i think the labor market in sin city is super fucked up. women in sin city exist to have their value extracted from them in a way that is different and worse than normal capitalism. like, i can see how someone would read these comics and go full SWERF. women are literal trophies, both arm candy and in a very upsetting trophy hunting way. especially in the final volume, women are machines of potential profit. aside from one landlady and one cop and one child who grows up to be a prostitute, all the women in this whole city seem to be prostitutes or prostitutes who have married up and out. like there aren’t really even any women on the street just walking or in diners. it’s all dudes.

this is probably a comics vs novels thing, but miller is often sadistic in a way that chandler is not. a guy dies on a page to make cool art. they fuckin mow through dozens of goons a volume. if a guy dies in chandler it’s usually bc chandler's philip marlowe has stumbled across a dead body accident and it becomes a tremendous pain in order to tip off the cops that a body needs retrieving without getting framed for the kill. marlowe (and by extension chandler) is a people person-- he is a detective bc he likes figuring out what makes people tick. he is alert and it's hard to get one over on him but his resting state is congenial. despite his job, he still does believe in the concept of justice.

sin city (more of a comment than a question) says "if people piss you off you should kill them." this is not to make light of the very real Situations that protagonists in sin city find themselves, but there are very few problem solving skills on display other than "apply dick" or "apply gun". VERY RARELY, "apply pussy". that last one almost never works out tho.

aside from All That, it does contain some of the best straight up art (not just comics art) ive ever seen. the command of light and shadow is incredible. the command of negative space is incredible. panels aren’t busy unless they’re showing the chaos of a scene. he doesn't draw every single brick bc that's not important to the scene. it’s really quite stunning.

also the MOVEMENT in this fringe is incredible. do u see what i mean about the nipples tho

watching

i gotta lotta fuckin bones to pick with the manda/lorian but they're all spoilery. this shit fucking sucks man. it's twenty fucking twenty three we have had well over a century to master storytelling through the art of the moving image.

all three eps so far have felt very weirdly edited-- like a lot of changes happened after filming and there wasn't enough time for pickups?? this is a gajillion dollar show just reshoot some shit on your little fake stage i am Begging you. at least bo-katan looked hot. god she's awful i love her

again again i say to ye, what if star wars was good? i am slightly terrified that andor may have ruined me for any s/tar wars that follows but by any metric these first three s3 mando eps are simply not good television.

playing

ty @pasta-pardner for gifting me Weird West some weeks ago bc it is the new thing i am obsessed with. this first trailer gives a better sense of the Vibes than the launch trailers imo

youtube

i find it is scratching a lot of the rpg itches that new vegas does: you wander around beautiful western settings running into weird shit, followed around by a hot butch you've recruited to your cause. unlike new vegas, it is a little less forgiving and you have to really scrap and loot everything that isn't nailed down.

this is a top-down action rpg with a weird little aiming system that is sort of a 3D twinstick? it takes some getting used to, and shooting is not the part of any game i am particularly good at. here's xbox wire's screenshot, which gives a good idea of how isometric it is and what enemy detection looks like. i do wish i could expand the minimap, bc some of the locations like mines or bigger towns can really sprawl.

i have one big annoyance bc it is a thing that made me take a break and sulk for a bit: as you're traveling across the map (not open world, location-based), you can run into Travel Encounters. you can decline to engage with some of them. you cannot save within or between the encounters unless you stop and make camp. if you're on a long journey to a different corner of the map, you might run into three Travel Encounters. if you die on the third, you are catapulted back to your starting point. this is tremendously annoying in the early game, so either take short trips or get good at about-facing and exiting areas quickly.

a writer i admire likes games that let him tell stories about what happened in the game to other people-- this is a game that very much facilitates that. i was ambushed during a Travel Encounter by the some outlaws, bc i accidentally let one escape while i was trying to collect a bounty on his boss, and that specific named grunt came back with a Vendetta. but! i met a dying outlaw from the band who kidnapped my character's husband in a different second encounter, swapped some bandages for a treasure map, and he is now a Friend for Life. so he showed back up to help me during that ambush AGAINST FELLOW OUTLAWS WHO SEEM TO HAVE SOME SORT OF MEMORANDUM OF UNDERSTANDING??? mWAH. DELICIOUS. LOVE SYSTEMS INTEROPERATING.

ive put like six hours into this, and it has five chapters with five different characters. i have not progressed past the first chapter bc i am having so much fun poking around. i am so so so grateful that the first character is a wife seeking revenge and not the other way around. ppl are throwing big baby tantrums in the steam forums about this but you know what? some husbands should be macguffins sometimes. widens their perspective.

i am fascinated by the drips and drabs of lore this game is feeding me. there's an order of witches with huge underground temples that (crucially!) they did not build, but have adopted for their own uses without really understanding who built them and why. i want to know so much more about their whole shit. there are werewolves but idk what their deal is bc i haven't met any yet.

i am a simple woman! i only demand perfect cowboy western-flavored rpgs and so far this is holding up. i will have more thoughts as i go along but goddamn is it fun to play. we truly do love a competent little rpg with interesting lore and good stealth mechanics that lets you loot everything in sight.

making

mostly fallow week, wrists hurty

made this tuna-chickpea salad for lunch. it is quite rich for a lunch. there are a lot of components that may be challenging to digest all together for a milennial with tummy troubles.

this would have definitely been improved by solid instead of cheap chunk tuna (or salmon. this would be great with canned salmon) and if i actually chopped the baby spinach instead of going "it's fine" and flinging it all in. or maybe wilting the spinach, but that's a lot of extra work and this would be a very warm, wet salad :/ the point is the chickpeas really want to sink to the bottom. i like that there is no cooking involved, only assembling, but realistically i have only half of these ingredients in my house at any given time. screengrabs from the site bc i paid a dollar but there's no reason you have to

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #this is 1600 words i am so sorry nyx

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acherontiarchivist · 2 years

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Ok so… Gabriel May telling the reader sweet(or dirty <3) nothings while she gets through some period cramps. Bc if Gabriel comforted me in his voice I’d probably just melt 😩

Anon your MIND. I've been obsessing about this all through work the last few days. Literally struggling through bad cramps myself and now I can't stop thinking about synching cycles with him fjabskzksns 🤭

Gabriel May comforting the reader through menstrual cramps under the cut 💜💜💜

Content: menstruation, reader uses female gendered pronouns (as requested), possessiveness (if you squint), dirty talk, voice kink, IMPLIED NSFW 🔞

🚫MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🚫

You don't much mind the harder days anymore. Sure, the pain is unpleasant as always–debilitating at worst, inconvenient at best– but now you have your loving partner to help you through it! And boy, does he make you feel pampered.

Currently, he has you reclined on the couch, propped up by pillows and tucked tight into your favorite blanket, heating pad radiating a relieving warmth. He refuses to let you do any housework, or even get your own glass of water; instead, waiting on your every need himself. About every hour or so he'll stop whatever chore he's working on to check on you; refill your glass, bring you snacks, make sure your heating pad isn't too hot.

Once again, he enters the living room and lightly pets your cheek with the back of his fingers, "How… are you feeling?... Are you comfortable?" You are as cozy as can be, even your favorite candle flickers on the table, emitting a warm floral aroma, he has seen to your every request without hesitation, though… there is one more thing he could do for you.

"Anything you need… I will provide for you… my dearest."

His voice projects softly through your earbuds, though he still kneels by your place on the couch and leans in to brush hair out of your face.

"Come lay with me," a barely audible whisper, but he complies nonetheless.

"Of course," carefully, he wedges himself between you and the couch cushions, laying one leg between yours and resting his head on your shoulder.

His breath tickles your skin and causes your face to flush; you dare not move in fear of him shifting too far away.

"How does this feel… I'm not putting… too much weight on you… am I?"

"Not at all. You could put all your weight on me and I'd be just as snug."

His little snickers echo through your ears, "Is that so?" Immediately, he lifts the blanket and straddles you, tucking his hands between your back and the supportive pillows, then once again leans his head on your shoulder. He must be able to tell how your heartbeat picked up, how your breathing became just slightly more rapid, as he scoots just a little closer, breath ghosting just behind your ear now. "Yes… this is much better."

You reposition the blanket and wrap your arms around him, releasing a contented sigh.

"I've got you trapped in my cage now… I think I'll keep you to myself."

"I'm fine with that," you laugh.

"Good girl."

Shivers travel down your spine, you know what he's often thinking of when he uses that nickname.

Though, as much as he sometimes likes to indulge in carnal desires, he very much cherishes the times where you hold one another, as you are now. He lives for moments like this, where there's nothing in the world but you, and him, slowly breathing in and out together. It's quite peaceful, and so quiet that he can usually hear whatever music you were listening to, though now he can hear nothing at all. "No music today, my dearest?"

"I'd much rather hear your voice."

Somewhat shocked, Gabriel pulls back and straightens out to look you in the eye. He lingers there, speechless for what seems like ages. Evidently, your own sweet nothings meant so much more than that to him. "I don't know… how you love me… like you do."

"How couldn't I? You do so much for me," you pull him in by the chin and kiss his forehead, "plus, you fit perfectly in my lap."

He leans back in for a tighter hug before pulling back just enough to nibble at the flesh of your neck, "I'll do so much more, too…"

Slowly he inches his way down your body, hands gliding restlessly over your sweater in search of the hem, until they finally snake their way underneath. His cold fingers leech the warmth from the heating pad before tossing it aside and pulling you closer by the waist. All the while his favorite pet names flickered and faded in your ears.

My darling

My dearest

My beloved

Mine.

#gabriel may #gabriel may x reader #malignant 2021 #post content #anonymous #slasher x reader

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27dragons · 8 months

Text

9 People You’d Like To Get To Know Better

I was tagged by @weethreequarter, who for some reason I can't properly tag back. Though while I was trying to figure out why, I discovered that somehow tumblr had randomly un-followed them for me (so helpful, tumblr is!) so I'm glad to have fixed that!

---

Last song: I mostly only listen to music in the car, so according to my playlist randomizer, the last thing I was listening to was "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" by the Eurythmics.

Favorite color: It's hard to say. Blue was my favorite color for a long time, but it was red for a while, too, and I'm super fond of, like, peacock blue-green and rich purples. Mostly I just really like jewel tones.

Currently watching: Not really anything at the moment. I finally got around to watching Staged (just S1) but I binged that all in one night; before that I'd seen S2 of Good Omens (and am still processing the heartbreak) and the second half of S3 of Witcher.

Last movie: In the theater? It was either Across the Spider-Verse or Honor Among Thieves (the D&D movie); I can't remember which order I saw them in. On my laptop, @monobuu and I co-watched No Reservations because she had an AU idea.

Currently reading: Fanfics, pretty much entirely. I've been poking back through my older bookmarked fics and re-reading them, and keeping up with new/ongoing fics as they hit my notifications.

Sweet/spicy/savory: I'm a massive wimp when it comes to spicy things, though I like a little bit of spicy from time to time. And my sweet tooth has been forcibly dialed back over the last year or so because sugar is one of the primary triggers for my heartburn, which is not just unpleasant but super painful when it hits my stomach ulcer. (But I still really like sweet things, I just hit the "okay I've had enough now" limit a lot sooner than I used to.) And savory is nice, too. Look, I just really like food.

Relationship status: divorced, officially 10 years next month, actually. I sort of wouldn't mind dating but I don't want to put any actual work into finding someone to date. Anyone want to be my extremely low-effort long-distance significant other? 😂

Current obsession: Good Omens is currently front and center, but it's not like I've stopped obsessing about my favorite ships in other fandoms (Dreamling, Geraskier, Winteriron)

Last thing I googled: How to do a thing I was trying to do LibreOffice. Before that, looking up whether some minor health issues I'm currently having might be related to oncoming menopause.

Currently working on: Teaching myself some bookbinding, and a cross-stitch project. I have several writing projects open in their tabs, but every time I look at them, my brain says, "....nah, not feeling it."

---

I never know who to tag in these things. I love reading them, though, even if they're not a mutual or anyone I've ever interacted with. It's so fun, seeing little slices of other lives from all over the planet. So if you've read this, please consider yourself tagged!

#tumblr games #pique queue

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symptoms-syndrome · 11 months

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14, 15, 18?

Hi Felis 💙 Thank u for ask 💙

14. What ANP(s) are around the most? How do they differ from each other?

Lately, it's been me (Tomas,) Seba, and sometimes Jesse. Mimi pops in sometimes but not as often as she used to. Seba and I feel parallel, not the same but similar. He's more brash than I am and less cautious, or perhaps just more impulsive. Jesse I believe we've talked about (royal we) before, she can be a handful. Mimi is very Mimi, full of energy that I nor Seba have, optimistic in a way I try and often fail to be and Seba isn't. She's good to have around. It's hard to compare and contrast something complex as ANP parts I feel. Especially comparing and contrasting myself.

15. When parts are working together in your life, what does that look like?

It's nice, but it's hard to describe because it feels more like the absence of something than something in itself. The absence of amnesia barriers, internal conflict, et cetera. I feel like I often don't notice it until it starts to crack. It feels like I'm a machine with all the gears turning smoothly. What it looks like...I'm not sure. I know a friend said that I seem more balanced and united. Probably less stressed and confused. Happier, I know that. I know a lot of the time it feels like a smooth calm, at least for me.

18. What has your experience with therapy been like?

All over the place. I've been in various forms of therapy since a very, very young age. Therapists, psychiatrists, social workers, special education teachers, mentors in different programs for at-risk or troubled youth.

It was very, very harmful for me for most of my life. It was very punitive and unpleasant, very focused on fixing my behavior, but in ways that were very "cart before the horse." Stop doing this, stop doing that, do this or that. "Why are you doing this" was a question often asked but the answer was rarely listened to. People just assumed I acted the way I did because I wanted to hurt people, or because I wanted attention (which, to be fair, may have been true. It was the response to that idea that was unkind.) A lot of my therapy was based on what my parents told the therapist was wrong with me, and the therapist working only based on my parents' point of view. If I said anything different, I needed to stop lying and tell the truth.

Getting my own therapist as an adult has been very healing. Being in control of my own therapy. Knowing my therapist isn't reporting everything back to my parents. Being able to choose what I want to talk about and work on. Sometimes it's frustrating, but overall it feels productive. It's also helpful to have someone to tell things to who is in no way involved with any of the rest of my life. I worry about gossip and the like, or my words being used against me. But my therapist now is good. Therapy now is hard, but no longer feels impossible.

#asks #apologies if this is less eloquent. my head feels floaty now compared to the focus of when i initially reblogged the ask post

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lunarrscribbles · 1 year

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continued from here because tumblr is a bitch / @fillyoursoulxx

"You've given this a lot of thought," she said, mock-concern on her features. "I mean, I know your sisters are a lot but they're not that bad. I'm keeping one eye open around you from now on." The silly back and forth is another plus, another tick in the good column on his behalf because she couldn't joke like this with a stranger. A stranger didn't know her history like he did, even if it was more of a spectator versus an actual contributor. Though any premeditated murderous fantasies are gone when she hears the music and she can't help but hum along with it. "I didn't know you were capable of playing something at a normal listening level," she teases, letting him know that yes, she remembered.

The funny thing about all of this is that at the time, she didn't give a second though to the things that he did for her. He wasn't bowing at her feet, but there had been song dedications and corny jokes, all things she had attributed to a silly teenaged crush, and it was all things that she had forgotten the second they happened. But now, it felt like memory after memory was being pulled from the depths of her mind, remembering the moments he did this or said that. It was a surreal feeling to say the least. And it was that same feeling when he pulled out the food. "You remembered my favorite sandwich?" she asks, a hint of disbelief to her tone. Eva can't remember the last time a boyfriend had remembered the tiniest of details about her, but she chalked it up to the history and afternoons spent when she'd help Max babysit him and Dallas and they'd make sandwiches after school. Strangely, the sandwich felt better than any meal a restaurant could prepare.

She pulled the sandwich out of the plastic and took a bite, letting out a hum of satisfaction. "You even put honey," she groaned, looking over at him and when did he get so close? The arm behind her head did not go unnoticed but she didn't say anything as she took another bite, simply enjoying this moment. If she thought too long about it, she'd freak out and run away, not believing how well he was actually doing on this not-date. Peeking into the basket, she pulls out a bottle of water and, after a few seconds of rummaging, finds a mini Cinnamon Whiskey. "I wonder if these two go together," she mused, popping the top and drinking half the bottle before taking another bite of sandwich. It was definitely a combination but not an unpleasant one. The bottles reminded her more of his sisters than him, rummaging through their uncle's liquor cabinet, trying to keep things looking as if they were untouched. Failing more than succeeding at times.

So caught up in the food and the music and actually having a nice moment with him, she barely registers when he talks, though she actually listens this time, no quick jab or teasing comment falling from her lips. His words are deep, referencing her earlier thoughts about the fireflies, and she doesn't respond right away. Instead, she eats the remainder of her sandwich, and it's not until the song is over does she say anything at all. "Are you trying to say that I'm magic?" she asks as she tucks her trash back into the basket and she turns her body so she's facing him versus sitting side by side. "Or that there could be magic between us?" Maybe it's just the small whisper of alcohol running through her system because of the mini bottle, or it's the magic they both have spoke about, but she feels lighter, like she might actually believe there's something more out there. "I have something I've been wanting to ask you since you asked me on this not-date. Why have you had a crush on me for so long? Like ... is this some type of self-challenge that you need to conquer? Notch in your bed post type deal? Which I am totally not offended by, by the way." She reaches out, hands on his arms to assure him as much before she pulls back. "I'm just curious."

#𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 louis + eva #fillyoursoulxx #interactions / eva

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