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#this took me 31 hours ;;
marshmallowgoop · 23 days
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no thoughts just Heiji Hattori (HD)
#detective conan#case closed#amv#my amvs#eye strain#heiji hattori#harley hartwell#conan edogawa#shinichi kudo#funimation english dub script#video#happy two-year anniversary to 'no thoughts just heiji hattori'!#while it's not my first amv (it's maybe my... fifth?)#it was the first one i made with davinci resolve and the amv that really got me into editing amvs for real#it's the amv that made me believe i could make amvs 🥺#and in remastering it i deeply understood how ambitious it was! i thought i did a lot of audio mixing for 'messed up'#but that's not even close to all the audio mixing i did here--cannot believe that i did all this for my first big amv project#it took about 20 hours *just* to remaster!#which is something i've been meaning to do for a while now so i'm very happy to finally share the results!#to make this a 'remaster' and not a 'redo' the only changes i tried to make were to the source footage and audio#video now uses almost entirely hd remastered footage from my blu-rays or netflix rather than my dvds#but oh gosh was it *hard* not to touch anything else! i'd do so many things differently now#but this video will always be really special to me (and i can't believe i did it at all tbh!)#i hope seeing it in hd is fun too! i'm so blown away by all the love this vid's gotten#and that it helped increase interest in funi's old english dub is amazing and 100% what i was trying to do with it!#thank you everyone for all the support <333 i wouldn't be the video editor i am today without this vid or your encouragement for it <3333#like the original the sources used are mostly from what funi dubbed (but mixed in hd by me!): eps 48-49 57-58 77-78 117 and 118 and movie 3#but i also used episodes 141-142 174 189 239 263 277 291 293 345 479 491 517 and 522#and ova 3 and tv special 6 (episode one) and movies 10 and 13 and ops 27 31 and 33 and the funi 5.2 dvd blooper for the one line lol#i'm sorry i've been so absent lately! i hope to be more active now... and there are 2 completely done amvs that i'm just waiting to post...
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alinadraws02 · 14 days
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Sunflowers
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geminison · 7 months
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When i said get better by alt-j was for Corvo and Jess I wasn’t joking
A bittersweet little story about how the future empress of the isles met her loyal bodyguard (and immediately had a crush)
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royalarchivist · 3 months
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Quackity when fans ask for spoilers about QSMP 2024:
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estellardreams · 3 months
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Somber Greetings [Niko Prime Animatic]
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roseianxiety · 1 year
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I am looking respectfully– 👀👀
(Click image for better quality)
[Reblog>Kudos]
Art Taglist: @cutebisexualmess @uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @patchesofwork (please tell me if you want to be added or removed in the tag list)
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thedailyvio · 5 months
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Day 323
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vexianret · 10 months
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milfmoiraine · 11 months
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i want to replay the witcher 1 again at some point but i dont know if i can handle having to do the swamp section again
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hussyknee · 1 year
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i'm so confused rn, can you explain the goncharov thing?? i get off tumblr for five minutes
(Edits closed as of 28 Nov.)
Lmaoooo
Nah I getchu. So this post has been circulating for like two years:
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Link to post.
But yesterday, it had inspired someone to do this:
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Link to post.
Next thing I knew there were fake Letterboxed reviews.
Goncharov moodboards. Really good ones.
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Link to post.
Meta analysis. So many fake meta essays. Disturbingly good ones. And of course the memes. (Edit: HAVE I SAID THIS SHIT IS DISTURBING)
As you can see, the myth just started to grow, characters and ships and tropes being added one after the other, almost bizzarely without contradiction, until there was enough of shape to the whole thing for people to start posting fanfic about it on AO3. "No beta we die like ice-pick Joe" is already a tag.
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Link to post.
It was hilarious in the beginning, but the way it's developed within less than a day, kind of like it's being willed into existence, is freaking me out a bit. We're toying with powers beyond our comprehension. 😂😂😂
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Link to post.
Of course, there could be an ulterior motive as well.
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Link to post (tags mine).
Edit: guys, please tag these posts "unreality" so people with disassociation issues can filter them out (not this one, this is an explainer). <3
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Edit 2: Aparently the boots in the original post are actually referring to a movie called Gomorrah that came out in 2008, directed by Mateo Garrone, based on the Scampia Feud. And other people had also been making posts about the fake movie for a while before the poster took off.
found by @thepotch
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Edit 3: Explainer: why did those boots have this movie on them anyway?
Edit 4: Alt text added to all images courtesy of @valentineish ❤️
Edit 5: Turns out tumblr has done this kind of thing before. Nine years in this hell place and I had to have "Squiddles" and penis smp explained in the replies.
Edit 6: This post collects the Lore so far.
Edit 7: Lynda Carter (real one)/ earns more/ Tumblr cred.
Edit 8: Holy shit y'all we have the theme music. With sheet music. And it's on Spotify!
Edit 9: THERE IS A TRAILER WITH THE THEME MUSIC
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I made this post 18 hours after the movie poster went up. Closed edits 27 hours after first posting. So all of the above happened within 45 hours of the movie poster going up.
Edit 10: Google document live-compiling all the lore so far (Day 3)
Edit 11: Masterpost of Goncharov soundtracks (Day 3)
Edit 12: Entertainment news articles covering the Gonch-posting (real) (Contd from yday)
Edit 13: The music from the masterpost all compiled into a 31-minute original score with video edits on YouTube (edit: unfortunately taken down)
Edit 14: Staff's Goncharov art showcase for Tumblr Tuesday
As of closing on Day 3 there are 371 works in the AO3 tag.
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Updating with Day 3 shenanigans I missed yesterday:
Edit 15: Goncharov TV Tropes page
Edit 16: Ethics of Gonchposting
Important PSA 1 (how to reduce harm to Tumblr's neurodivergents)
Important PSA 2 (reality affirmation, anti-bullying)
Important PSA 3 (why you should stop trying to vandalise legit information sites)
Edit 17: Character lore from beezlebub whose poster they originated from
Edit 18: What we know about/ Director Matteo JWHJ0715 (#unreality)
Edit 19: Link to post with screenshotted and described NYT article (scroll down) and this golden exerpt from BuzzFeed: 💀
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(alt text included)
End of Day 4 there are now 485 works in the Goncharov tag on AO3
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Didn't get to update this on Day 5, so these are the Day 5 doings:
More trailers!
Trailer 1 (My favourite)
Trailer 2
Trailer 3
Trailer 4
I also just found out about the Goncharov Game Jam.
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It appears this opened a day after after the meme took off.
Goncharov was first entered into Wikipedia between Day 4 and 5 (attempts to vandalise it with fake info don't count, incidentally – please knock that shit off) under List of Internet Phenomena. This was then expanded into its own Wikipedia page at the end of Day 5 because, according to the talk history: "the topic now meets the notability threshold for its own artice due to significant coverage in The New York Times and other sources cited." We're on Wikipedia, people!
And then we made The Guardian half a day later. So while the meme is definitely dying down to embers by now, it still stays winning.
YouTube channels with episodes on the meme:
InformOverlord (4:30)
Lessons in Meme Culture (2:43)
End of Day of 5 there were 511 works on AO3, and End of Day 6 (today) there are 556.
--
🚨BREAKING 🚨 from Martin Scorsese's daughter's TikTok (real actual)
tw: unreality:
We did it you guys!
Clarification: Francesca Scorcese asked her Dad about the meme and Martin played along. Please reblog this PSA to help Tumblr people with psychosis. Thanks.
Final edit: Day 8. Media reactions to Scorcese's TikTok (everyone from Forbes to Vulture). That one Tumblr user who said they'd do a screenplay if their post got notes has promised to shoot a single scene, but please don't be dicks just because you reblogged it; leave them alone until they get around to it themselves. As of end of Day 8 there are 609 works in the AO3 tag. I love all you lunatics. Peace! ❤️
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whumptober · 8 months
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Whumptober 2023
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Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!
COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
And this years playlist can be found here.
There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!
We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!
Best of luck and happy whumping,
Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2023 Prompt List
No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”
Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”
No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”
Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”
No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”
Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”
No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”
Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”
No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”
Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”
No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”
Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”
No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”
Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”
No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”
Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”
No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”
Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”
No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”
Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”
No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”
Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”
No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”
Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”
No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”
Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”
No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”
Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”
No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”
Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”
No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”
Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”
Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”
No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”
Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”
No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”
No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”
Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”
No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”
Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”
No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”
Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”
No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”
Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”
No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”
Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”
No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”
Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”
No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”
Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”
No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”
Matches | Scars | “Let me see”
No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”
Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”
No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”
Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”
No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”
Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”
No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”
Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”
Alternatives List:
Betrayal
Aftermath of Failure
Brass Knuckles
Decoy
Body Modification
Playing Cards
Examination
Hunting
Drugging
Shaking
Panic
Broken
Miscommunication
Lab Rat
Reluctant Whumper
Event Info & Rules
~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.
The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!
In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)
#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.
Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?
You can create something based on:
The overall theme/lyric of the day
Prompt 1, 2 or 3
One or several of the alternative prompts
A combination of the above
Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?
When in doubt: JUST DO IT!
Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?
Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.
Q. Can I post early/late?
Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.
Q. Will you reblog my post?
Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:
tag your post properly
post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.
Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.
Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes.
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.
Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?
No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit.
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?
Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What is whump?
Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?
If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!
Q. How do I tag triggers?
tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want. 
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord or come into our ask box.
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
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aeroacespades · 1 year
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Art by me
Characters (Reska and Qu’zeri) by @unicorn-incorporated
Depicting a particular scene from one of her stories
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stylesharrys · 7 months
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private show
summary: you miss harry’s concert but half of it isn’t your fault.
warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, swearing, kissing, teasing, unprotected shower sex, dirty talk, fingering...
word count: 3,938
a/n: i literally wrote this about four years ago, but it’s all been edited and freshened up a little for you guys! i hope you’re staying safe and if there’s any writings in particular you’d like to see, send me a message! anyway, enjoy this smutty piece:)
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The car broke down. You weren’t sure how it happened, or why, but the engine wouldn’t start and your dad suspected the battery died.
You’re in London with Harry for a few days, Harry performing and you visiting your family in a small town a few hours out of central London. You’d come by late afternoon yesterday and now you’re stuck.
You’re meant to be going back to London in time for Harry’s show, but with no car and none of your family having one to lend, you’re shit out of luck. You didn’t have the money or time to get the battery recharged or get a new one, and in all honesty, you didn’t know what you needed to do for it anyway.
So, with your little suitcase and your purse, you got yourself a train ticket straight to London. You missed the first train, the bus getting you to the station three minutes late. So you had no choice but to wait in the warmth of the sun for seven minutes until the next one came.
You only stayed on that one for three stops, staring at your phone screen when the rail app told you that you’d need to get off. And you did, sat down for twenty minutes while you waited for the next one that took you straight to Greenwich.
By then it was already 7 pm and you knew you’d most likely miss his entire show at this rate. And then the train showed up and you hopped on it, squeezing between the standing people and you shoved your earphones in, playing an old playlist Harry had made you.
And that’s when you get the text.
iMessage from H💞
Hey. You close, I’m on in an hour x
You sigh and rub your forehead, flicking back to the app on your phone and groaning when you realise you’ll be twenty minutes on that train and then need to get another Bank one for six minutes, then a thirty-minute walk, and then the underground.
iMessage to H💞
Just left for the Greenwich line. Car broke and I don't have time or money on me to get it sorted. Taking the train and it’s insane how many connections you have to make. I don’t know what time I’m gonna be there. Does security know I’m coming in backstage? Xx
You lock your phone with a sigh and turn up the volume of the music, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to calm your nerves and anxieties.
Soon enough, you’re getting off at Greenwich and onto the Bank train. Only when you go past Heron Quay do you realise that you’ve missed your stop and, essentially, gotten yourself lost.
Your panic only grows when Harry stops answering your calls and texts and then you realise it was 8:31 and he’s already on stage, performing, without you supporting him on the side stage.
You try to call Jeffrey, but of course, no answer. Matt, no answer. Mitch, no answer. Jasmine, his opener, no answer. It’ll be useless to call your parents, neither of them know the train lines and can’t come and pick you up anyway because they don’t drive.
You struggle to ask people where to go, most people pushing past you in their own hurry to get to their destinations, and you’re shocked to not see any rail workers anywhere on the platforms to offer assistance.
So, you do what you do best. You panic. You slump down on one of the cold, metal benches with your suitcase by your side and purse in your lap. Tears are quick to prickle at your eyes and the air grows colder, bitter.
If you had just got off at your stop, you would’ve been with the others by now, watching your man perform on stage and become one with the crowd. But, here you are, cold, alone, and lost.
Your little denim jacket is doing nothing to conserve heat and your legs bounce as you try to warm yourself up. Your achingly cold fingers struggle to type up a route you could take and before long, thirty minutes have passed and it’s 9 pm.
And then, the worst possible thing happens. Your phone dies.
You panic even harder now, your chest constricting and you struggle to catch a breath. It isn’t until you see an older man slowly walk the yellow safety lines of the station in a high-vis train rail jacket that you calm just a little.
You shoot up from your seat, hands clammy and shaking as you pull your suitcase with you. “Excuse me!” You call out to the older man, the station much quieter now.
He turns to you with raised brows and a friendly smile, and you’re more than relieved that you’ll be getting some help.
“I’m not from around here and I missed my stop and ended up here.” You explain as calmly as you can, taking deep breaths and swallowing back the lump in your throat.
“Okay. Where are you heading?” The older man asks, sliding his silver-rimmed glasses up the smooth slope of his nose.
“I’m trying to get to the O2 Arena.” Your heart’s stammering in your chest and you explain how your phone had died and you have no way of contacting anyone or getting routes.
The man, Barry, assures you it will be fine. He writes down the trains and stops you need to make and where to go from there, then offers you his battery pack to charge your phone for a few minutes.
You check it when you get on the next train, a message from Jasmine on your screen and the time’s now nearing 9:34 pm.
iMessage from Jasmine X
Hey!! Where are you?? Everything okay? Call me!!
You sigh and quickly begin typing, trying to explain what happened and that you’re on your way, but before you can ever send the text, your phone freezes and cuts off dead.
You take another deep breath, trying to keep calm, and shove your phone into your pocket. Your ears focus on the voice through the speaker, listening closely for your stop and staring at the piece of paper in your hand so you know when to get off.
By the time you reach the O2, it’s 10 pm and you're certain the show’s over. You sprint to the doors, unsure where you’re even meant to go. You don’t have a ticket and Harry has your backstage pass.
“Can I help you, miss?”
The security guards eye you cautiously, somewhat alarmed by your frantic state. To them, you look just like every other fangirl they’ve ever met.
“I’m meant to be meeting Harry’s team backstage. Do you know how I get there?”
You’re breathless, body somewhat numb from the sudden drop in temperature and pure anxiety you’ve suffered over the past two hours.
The man squints at you. “Do you have a pass?” Great.
You sigh. “No, his manager, Jeffrey, has my pass. I’m Harry’s girlfriend. Look, you can go and ask on your walkie talkie. I have ID, but I don’t have my pass.” You try to explain.
He shakes his head, tries to hide the amusement on his face. “Nice try, kid. Go home.” He turns his back, wandering away but you shake your head and follow after him.
“No, I’m being serious! Jeffrey has my backstage pass. My phone is dead so I can’t contact them! Please, just radio it through. I promise you! My name is Y/N Y/L/N, please. He’ll tell you!” You beg, tears pooling in your eyes in panic.
This can’t be happening, how has it even come to this? You’ve been through the works already, and now, you look like nothing more than a desperate fangirl.
“Listen, miss. If you don’t leave right now, we will escort you out ourselves or call the police. It’s your choice.” He all but growls his words, an effort to scare you off.
Your shoulders slump and tears spill from your eyes, anxiety consuming you. “This isn’t happening,” you whisper to yourself, breathing unevenly and your knees buckle slightly.
You can’t even go back to the hotel as you don’t know where you’re all staying, seeing as you stayed with your parents last night. You’re done for.
You’re about to turn away, search for someone with a charger maybe, when a ruckus of cheering and talking catches your ears and the doors to the arena open. Hundreds of people flood out of the doors, eager to get themselves home and you wonder how you’re going to get to Harry.
“Oh my God! It’s Y/N!” Is all it takes for everyone to spot you and scream, hurtling toward you and calling your name.
You grab the security guard's arm and frantically beg for his attention. “Now do you believe me!? Please!” You cry out, but he continues to look at you sceptically as the other security members calm down the fans.
You try to talk to the fans, to have them prove that you were Harry’s girlfriend. And even though they agree and show security pictures and proof, they refuse to let you back because you don’t have a pass.
“Here, use my phone to call someone!” An older woman from behind security offers you her phone, her daughter (you presume) staring up at you with big doe eyes.
You smile and take the mobile, punching in Harry’s number that you’ve had memorised for moments like this. You ignore the security guard that continues to ask you to leave and when the ringing stops and a ruckus on the other end is heard, you let out a sigh of relief.
“Hello?” Harry answers, sceptical from the other end.
“Harry! Oh thank God, it’s Y/N.” You sigh out in relief, the fans screaming when they hear you on the phone with him.
“Babe, what the fuck is going on? I’ve been trying to call you! Where are you?” His words are laced together in panic and you can hear him shushing his team.
You sigh. “I’ll explain later but I’m with your fans outside the doors and security won’t let me through to you because Jeffrey still has my pass.” You explain, pinching the bridge of your nose.
Harry tells you to sit tight and that he’ll fix it, tells you he loves you and ends the call. You sigh in relief and quickly delete the number from the call log, handing the phone back to the woman and thanking her profusely.
You feel awful, really. It’s bad enough that you missed Harry’s show, but now you’re holding up all of his fans from going home because security is keeping them away from you and not letting you through the doors.
You speak to a few of his fans while you wait, asking how they found the show and answering some of their questions about Harry when another scream is heard and Jeffrey wanders out toward you with a security guard.
“Y/N!” He calls out, speaking with the other security for a second before showing them your pass and explaining you are who you said you are.
You say goodbye to the fans, dragging your suitcase over to Jeffrey and he pulls you in for a hug, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. You thank him and wave goodbye, following him through a hallway and you disappear.
“What the hell happened?” Jeffrey asks in concern, brows furrowed and you sigh while explaining about your car, the trains, and your phone. Jeffrey listens closely and throws his arm over your shoulder as you walk, pulling your suitcase along.
Security leads you through another corridor and another, opening doors and scanning his ID on certain parts to gain access. A few minutes of walking and a burst of soft laughter can be heard, your heart skipping a beat.
Jeffrey's hand rests against your back as he leads you through a room and another curtain, and there Harry stands; pacing back and forth and biting at his nails. The sound of the door opening catches his attention and he spins around to you.
“Honey...” he whispers, pacing toward you and scooping you into his arms. You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, crying softly into his shoulder. Harry cradles the back of your head, gently cooing you and whispering reassuring words into your ear.
“You’re okay, baby.” He whispers, kissing your temple and you pull away sniffling, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath. Harry cups your clammy cheeks in his hands and leans down a little. You lift onto your tiptoes and kiss his lips softly, not even a little bothered by the taste of sweat on his lips.
You sigh into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed and a cheeky wolf whistle from behind him catches your attention. You pull away and peer over his shoulder, blushing at the sight of his entire team grinning at you both and Lloyd facing his camera at you.
//
You’re curled into Harry’s side as you wander down the hall to find his room. His arm is around your shoulder, yours behind his waist as he pulls your little suitcase along.
His skin is still sticky with sweat and his clothes stained with a salty scent, but somehow, he still smells like vanilla and his stupid cologne. “I can’t believe you had to do all that,” he murmurs out after having listened to your travels of the day.
You hum back and yawn, pulling away from his side when he reaches into his pocket for his key-card. You both stand outside the room before he unlocks the door and he drags you in behind him.
You flop straight onto the bed, the sheets still a mess and Harry’s suitcase sprawled out over it. He sighs and kicks off his boots, wiggling his toes and standing between your legs.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says softly, head tilted as he watches you sit back up and take his hand in yours. “You wanna join?” he wiggles his brows playfully and you let out a tired laugh, nodding your head nonetheless.
“You go ahead, I’m gonna put my phone on charge and clear the bed.” You tell him, earning a little nod and a forehead kiss before he’s taking off to the bathroom, turning on the water.
You stand from the bed with a sigh and plug Harry’s charger into your phone while kicking your own shoes off. Your feet were no doubt blistered and you knew it’d be a pain to walk for the next few days.
Looking back at the bed, you sigh. Harry had always been messy when it came to getting ready for events. But you weren’t sure why, considering he had a stylist so Harry never had to find something to wear for his shows.
Nevertheless, you shake your head and begin to refold his clothing, setting it neatly in his suitcase. You brush the creases out of the sheets and fluff up the pillows before making your way to your bag to pull out your toiletries and one of Harry’s shirts you’ll sleep in.
You take them with you to the bathroom, soft melodies slipping past Harry’s lips as he washes the night away. You smile to yourself, the mirror and windows fogged by the heat of the shower that you’re eager to climb into.
You strip from your outfit and open the shower door, Harry turning to look at you with a little mohawk he’d styled with the shampoo. You snort out a laugh and shake your head, standing in front of him so the water falls down on you.
“Well, hello there,” Harry grins cheekily, eyeing your breasts as your nipples pearl. You blush and lean your head back, soothing the water through your hair but Harry can’t keep his eyes off your chest, not when it’s right there.
“Stop staring.” Your eyes are closed as you massage the shampoo into your scalp, but you already know he’s drooling at the sight of you. He always did have a thing for your chest, even if you argued they’re not your best asset.
Harry whines and nibbles on his plump bottom lip. “But, baby, they’re like begging me to love on them.” He argues, paw-like hands holding your waist as his thumbs gently caress the bottom of your breasts.
You snort out another laugh at his reasoning and wash the shampoo away, slathering on some conditioner and turning you both around so he’s now under the water. You guide him to sit on the little seat beneath the shower and adjust the head so the water can reach him.
Harry’s face is now completely level with your chest as you wash the shampoo from his hair. He whines at you with a little pout and you gently massage his scalp with your fingertips.
“I know this usually makes me really sleepy, but with your tits in my face, it's really fucking turning me on.” He rasps out, voice low and suggestive and you have to fight back a little whine of your own.
“You’re such a boy.” You breathe, slathering his luscious locks in your conditioner and leaning down just enough to kiss his swollen lips.
It was only intended to be a peck, but Harry wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you between his legs, lifting your thighs so you straddle his lap.
Your fingers slide through his curls, breathing heavily and you moan softly against his lips. His hands smooth over the curves of your ass, kneading the flesh with little force and you pull away to catch your breath.
“I’m proud of you.” You whisper against his lips, your core bumping the head of his cock and he strains out a laugh.
“You’re proud of me? Babe, you got lost on your own, almost got kicked out of the arena, and you didn’t have a panic attack once. Shit, I’m the proud one here.” Harry argues with a little smile.
You purse your lips to hide your smile and kiss his lips softly again. He kisses you back for a moment before pulling away and squeezing your ass.
“But seriously, I’ve had a raging boner ever since you sent me that naughty pic last night, and I am dying to get lost in that puss-” You cut him off with a heated kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth as your own massaged it.
Harry groans and lifts you both, your legs around his waist as his heavy cock bumps your ass. Your back presses against the shower wall, Harry’s lips chasing the water that drips down your neck.
You tug on his hair, eager to feel him inside you and you know he’ll be giving you what you both want in a matter of seconds. He holds you up with one arm and uses his free hand to grip his cock, pumping himself before he swirls his tip around your entrance.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” Harry whines out, teasing himself against you and you huff, tugging on his hair and sucking his bottom lip into your mouth.
“I feel better once you’re in me,” you remind him, a taunting smirk on your lips, but it’s quick to fade when Harry thrusts his hips into yours, his thick cock stretching you out and you shriek in pleasure.
“Shit, H.” You moan, head thrown back as he slides in and out of you at a delicious pace. The running water is long forgotten, the sound of skin slapping and your arousal squelching being the only sounds you can focus on.
Harry pants in your ear, small grunts sounding through the bathroom as you whine and moan for him. He grabs your ass and spreads your cheeks, knuckles white as he grips you harder.
“So good, baby.” He moans into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe and your eyes roll back.
You can feel him deep in your stomach, feel him throb between your walls and you’re certain you’re about to explode any second. You grip his shoulders, circling your hips on his dick the best you can.
Harry rests his forehead against yours, his eyes focusing on the way his glistening cock slips in and out of your swollen pussy with such ease. “Such a good girl for me.” Harry praises, your pussy clenching around his cock and he chokes out a moan.
“Only for you. O-only good for y-you,” he grins against your lips and picks up his pace, hitting your G-spot with every soul-shattering thrust.
Harry feels you begin to spasm, can feel your body losing its strength and he cups your face with his hands, forcing you to look at him -- your noses bumping while he does so.
“Look at me, baby. Wanna watch you as you cum all over my cock.” He gently coaxes, pinching your nipple with his other hand and your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets.
“I’m gonna cum,” you cry out, eyes wide and jaw slack. Harry watches you with hooded eyes, jade clouded with lust and with one final thrust, he pushes you over the edge, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and body falls limp.
The choked cry of his name is all it takes for him to paint your walls with his pleasure, a rugged groan slipping past his lips as he cries out your name, collapsing slightly into you and trapping you completely against the wall.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, head falling back against the tiles on the wall and Harry gently eases out of you, slowly kissing every inch of your face before his lips meet yours in a tender encounter.
“I love you so much,” he breathes against your lips, easing your legs back to the ground and keeping his arms around your waist.
“I love you, too. And hey, I might’ve missed your main show but fuck me, this private show was just as good.” You joke, an angelic laugh sounding through Harry’s throat as he kisses you again.
His arms ease to rest on your ass, soothing over the tender skin he had been gripping. “Let me clean you up,” he mumbles, giving your bum a little tap before he pulls you back under the water.
Harry washes both of you, peppering your skin with gentle kisses before you’re both completely clean and drying off, brushing your teeth side by side. Harry throws on a pair of sweats while you steal a pair of his boxers and his shirt.
Sliding into bed, he curles up behind you, spooning your back and kissing your shoulder. “I’m sorry about missing your show and being so stupid that I got on the wrong trains and stuff.” You huff out.
Harry shakes his head and kisses your shoulder again. “Don’t be. None of it is your fault. Jeffrey should’ve given you that backstage pass yesterday. I’m sorry you had to go through all that on your own, but I’m so fucking proud of you, honey.”
You smile to yourself and hold his hand close to your chest, wiggling back so you’re snug against his chest. “I’m so happy I fell in love with you,” you whisper into the darkness, eyes fluttering closed.
Harry smiles into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as he kisses the crook of your neck. “I’m happy I fell in love with you, too.”
//
if you enjoyed it, please give it a reblog! your feedback and comments are appreciated more than you’ll ever know — i’d love to hear what you thought <;3
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bysaber · 4 months
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Stuck in a cabin ft. Megumi Fushiguro
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Day 14 of 31 Days of Ficmas!
summary — after a ski trip with a group of friends, a snowstorm traps you and the only person in the group you barely talk with, megumi fushiguro.
word count — 1.6k
content — MDNI, smut, mutual pining, mutual masturbation, praise kink (megumi has it), megumi is a little inexperienced but it’s not explicit, finger sucking (?), yuji x reader mentioned, lowercase intended
notes — happy bday megs!! my fav boy <3
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it’s been one hour and a half since you and megumi started drinking and the silence is beyond excruciating.
you both have many things to say, he and you are aware of that, but somewhat the both of you can’t push yourselves to say any of it. fear holds your words back, locking them in your throats.
after a cheerful weekend with all of your friends, you were left alone; yuta and maki took off first thing in the morning and, since you slept until 1 p.m. and nobara had an assignment to turn in, yuji drove her.
megumi rented the place so, being the one who needed to hand the keys to the renter, promised yuji he would take you home instead.
problem is – by the time you got up and packed your things, a snowstorm started, trapping you and megumi in the cabin far above some mountains.
“uh, i forgot to tell you… yuji apologized for not driving you back. he was your ride, right?” megumi finally breaks the silence, his gaze locked on his empty glass of wine.
he wonders if he should fill it again.
he is a lightweight, but the wine isn’t that strong.
“that’s fine,” you couldn’t care less about yuji. not right now. this is the closest you’ve ever been to megumi, the guy who unknowingly has you on his knees, the reason you suggest drinking together in the first place. “sorry to trouble you, though.”
the raven-haired boy can feel your eyes on him, as if you’re trying to figure him out. if the wine hadn’t tinted his cheeks red yet, you would be able to see the blush on his face.
silence engulfs you again, and it sickens him to hear you gulping down your drink. with the silence, it becomes so very easy to hear all the little sounds you make, even your breathing. he’s not sure he can handle it.
he needs to break it.
“so… you and yuji?”
megumi wants to slap himself the moment the words leave his lips. what kind of question is that? he swears at himself, but he truly wants to know.
he has liked you for so long that, when he started growing suspicious about your relationship with yuji, he didn’t have the stomach to ask about it to his best friend. he would tell himself he was better off not knowing.
but yuji isn’t here.
and you… you are.
he hears it when you laugh – a laugh so genuine it warms his heart – and turns his head to look at you. you seem really amused, but he doesn’t get what’s so funny and a little pout appears on his lips.
“uh, me and yuji are just friends, megumi,” you say when your laugh comes to an end. “just friends.”
“ah,” should he believe you? you aren’t even close. why would you tell him? “i just thought…”
“what did you think, megs?” you’re fast to approach him, now sitting so close together your thighs touch and your breath fans over his jaw. you wear a playful, almost wicked, smile as you press further, “did you think i was fucking yuji?”
the dirty word in your voice makes megumi’s cock twitch. he tries to keep his breathing steady, putting his glass on the table before turning completely to you, although avoiding your eyes. does it matter if he lies? “yes.”
“why do you care?” your ambush has him almost collapsing in front of you. megumi can feel his blood running cold as he tries to think of an answer to give you, a decent one that won’t put him into further trouble. “do you want to fuck me instead, megumi?”
it is so hard to think when your face is so close. are you testing him? have you found out about his crush on you? about his perverted fantasies? are you trying to catch him red-handed?
megumi lifts his eyes to meet yours, a ‘sorry’ on the tip of his tongue when he catches on how you seem to be drowned in lust. your pupils dilated, shining bright, and a silent request you never make.
he kisses you with utter desperation, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer and guide you through it. you straight up mewl against his lips, the sound making his blood run straight down to his dick.
as his tongue invades your mouth, you grab his shirt tight and lay down, pulling him with you. megumi doesn’t even know where to put his hands, shaking slightly as he runs them over your sides; grabbing, squeezing, making sure you are really there.
as soon as you part the kiss, your lips are on his neck and he groans, rutting his hips against your legs. he can feel his entire body growing hotter, his cheeks flushing, but you give him no time to doubt himself as you part your legs to accommodate him.
“shit…” he hisses, thrusting in a desperate attempt to have some relief. “can i… can i take these off? is this okay?”
you nod and he immediately retreats, just enough to take your sweatpants off you. too many clothes, he thinks. everything suddenly became so hot.
“take yours off, too,” you say. “please.”
you watch, lust and adoration filling you, as he stands and pulls his pants down with trembling hands. you can see the bulge on his underwear, your mouth salivating at the sight.
but megumi doesn’t wait another second before he’s on the couch again, kneeling in front of you. his hands are cold when they touch your knees, silently asking for you to open your legs again – and you do.
“kiss me again,” you notice he’s nervous so you ask, and when megumi presses his weight down on you and connects your lips again, you become a mess. “megumi…” you whisper between a kiss, moaning softly when he thrusts against you, the wetness in your panties making it feel so damn good. “are you sure you want this?”
megumi knows you can see his anxiety, but you erase it with each kiss. you erase it when you roll your hips on him, making him whimper. “yes. yes.”
you’re not sure he’s answering your question, and he buries his face on your neck as his right hand goes straight to your core. “megumi.”
“want this… want you so bad,” he whines close to your ear, pulling your panties down a little and cupping your pussy. you both moan, “shit– you’re so wet. i did this?”
his question is genuine, taking his face off your neck to look at you. he looks so fucked up and it drives you insane, knowing he was on cloud nine for touching you alone.
“y–yeah. you did,” you can barely express yourself as he massages your lower lips, his eyes locked on your face to gather every bit of your reactions. when he presses his thumb on your clit, it’s your turn to whimper, “fuck, fuck, –gumi.”
“feels good?” he’s so desperate for confirmation you’d find it cute if you weren’t so lost in yourself already.
“yeah, so good,” he hums happily with your answer, playing with your clit and circling your entrance with one of his fingers. you cry out when he pushes it inside, pumping a few times before pushing in another, “‘s so good. so good to me, megumi,” you’re out of your mind, moving your hips with him.
his chest fills with pride as he watches you squirm underneath him, hearing you praise him. he doesn’t even see you moving your hand to grab his cock, making him falter for a bit.
you push his underwear down just enough to free him, almost automatically smearing the pre-cum leaking from his tip as much as you can before wrapping your hand around him, “wanna make you– feel good too.”
he sighs in pleasure, curling his fingers inside you as he thrusts them and massages your clit. you stop pumping him for a second to collect your own wetness before enveloping him again, “fuck, fuck.” he doesn’t know for how long he can last, knowing damn well he looks like a dog in heat as he matches your movements and speed.
your orgasm comes crashing down and megumi eats the sounds you make by kissing you, the way your walls clench around his fingers and you make a mess on them being the last straw for him to cum as well.
you gasp, still coming down from your high as you feel his seed dripping on your sensitive pussy, painting it white. almost as if claiming you.
when you open your eyes to see there’s cum everywhere, you notice it wasn’t intentional. “shit, megumi, you’re so hot.”
he’s still shaking, so you motion for him to lay on top of you, “sorry, i didn’t want to–”
you shut him by taking your hand to your mouth, licking his cum off it with adoration. megumi feels his cock stir, but copies your movements, licking you off his fingers as well.
you don’t even have to think before you put your fingers on his mouth and he puts his on yours. you feel synchronized, eyes locked on each other and mind filled with dirty thoughts as you suck each other’s fingers off.
and then megumi kisses you again, your mouth filled with the taste of you both combined and you sigh, “you’re so good.”
you don’t mind how many times you’ve said it, you want to keep saying it over and over again. especially when his eyes light up like that.
megumi waited for you for a long time and now he truly is going to be good.
to you.
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vaspider · 2 months
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Edit: REBLOGS ARE OFF FOR THIS POST 'CAUSE Y'ALL CAN'T RESPECT A SIMPLE "PUT YOUR CRITICISMS ELSEWHERE" REQUEST. Fuck's sake.
Look, y'all. I keep seeing people talking about how few episodes there are of Netflix's ATLA vs the animated ATLA, saying they 'crammed' things in to eight episodes vs 20, and it's annoying the shit out of me, so here's some math:
Each episode of ATLA's animated version is 23 minutes long. Every episode of the Netflix series is at least 50 minutes long.
The full runtime of the Netflix s1 Avatar is 7 hours, 9 minutes. The full runtime of ATLA animated s1 is 7 hours 40 minutes. So Netflix's ATLA is ... a little shorter, but the difference between the two in actual runtime is 31 minutes.
31 minutes is not small -- it's basically "what if they took your lunch break out of your work day" -- but it's also ... not THAT big of a difference.
There are plenty of other things to criticize, I'm sure -- DON'T SAY THEM ON THIS POST, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT AND I HAVEN'T FINISHED THE SHOW YET -- but the difference in actual runtime between the two shows is actually not that much.
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 31 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley didn't like the fact that you'd soon be leaving him for a work trip to Annapolis. Being apart was hard enough before, but he knew it would be worse now. His thoughts start to manifest, and he wonders if he'll ever be enough of what you and the baby need.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff
Length: 4900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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Bradley sat on the living room couch in his boxer briefs with a plate full of peanut butter crackers and a glass of ice water. He'd been doing his due diligence by making sure you ate several small meals throughout the day and fucking you as soon as your eyes welled with tears when you reached for him. He could tell now when you were about to throw up just as easily as he could tell when you needed to get off. It was amazing how unprepared he was for dealing with all of this, but none of it was putting a damper on the constant excitement he felt. 
"Okay. Next slide," you said as you hit the spacebar on your laptop which was open on the coffee table displaying information he could barely understand. He held up the plate and let you eat a cracker before handing you the glass of water so you could take a sip. Then you handed it back to him and took a deep breath before diving into the information on the new slide.
You'd been at it for hours, trying to get your parts down perfectly so you could spend the upcoming week rehearsing the presentation with Cat before you left for Annapolis. Bradley came back from playing golf on Sunday, and you and he had a quickie in the laundry room literally while you helped him out of his sweaty clothes. Afterwards, when he tried to get in the shower, you guided him to the couch instead as you said, "Don't shower yet. You smell so good, it'll motivate me to practice my slides."
And that's how he ended up where he was. "You're doing great, Baby Girl," he whispered whenever you paused to eat some of your snacks. "I'm so fucking proud of you."
Bradley marveled, not for the first time, over the fact that you married him. You were the smartest and most capable person he'd ever met, explaining things in such detail that only the most intelligent people in the Navy could possibly comprehend you. All while also wearing his rings and carrying his baby.
He sat as patiently as he could while you meticulously finished your presentation, but as soon as you went over the final slide and closed your laptop, he was up off the couch. And this time he was the one ready to start whining for you. "Can we go to the bedroom?" he asked as you looked at the notes in your binder and put them in a different order. 
"Hmm," you hummed, shifting a few more sheets around. "In a minute," you mumbled, but when you bumped into him, you smiled. "You're hard, Bradley."
"Baby Girl," he moaned as you rubbed yourself against him. "Your presentation was way too sexy. Let's go get in bed."
You were laughing. "If you thought it was sexy now, just wait until the admirals get to see me do it in uniform."
"I'm already jealous," he whispered, coaxing you along with his fingers at your back. When he wrapped his hands around to the front of your body, he said, "I can't wait until you have a baby bump."
"I can," you told him softly as you climbed into bed and looked up at him where he stood. "What if I look hideous?"
"You couldn't." His response came quickly, because he didn't have to think about it at all. "You won't. You'll still be perfect."
He ran his fingers along the necklace he'd given you and played with the charms as you asked, "Even when I'm huge and miserable and nine months pregnant? And when I'm all lumpy looking after the baby is born?"
Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly. "You threw up on me yesterday after you burst into tears and yelled at me for leaving Tramp's leash on the porch, and I still wanted to make love to you. I don't think you have anything to worry about."
You groaned and then started laughing and curled up into a ball on your side. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now."
"Don't apologize. I know you didn't mean any of it," he replied with a chuckle as he slid into bed behind you and pulled the covers over both of you. "And I'm ready for you to have a belly, because you'll look adorable. And it also means we'll be closer to meeting the chicken nugget for real. The ultrasound pictures are cute and all, but I can't wait to see the little nugget in March."
"You just like calling it that, because it's a Rooster joke," you said as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your neck. "I'm surprised you're not trying to design a chicken themed nursery."
"Hey," he grunted next to your ear as he worked your yoga pants and your underwear down over your butt. "You promised me we could do airplanes for the nursery," he reminded you, guiding his fingers over your thigh to your tattoo. He traced it from memory as you sighed softly before he felt you spread your legs wider for him. Bradley smiled as he ran one fingertip down your slit, discovering that you were already wet for him. "Baby number two can have a chicken themed nursery."
You moaned his name as he slipped one finger inside you, but he didn't hear you argue about his fantastic idea.
-------------------------
You were completely scatterbrained at work all week, and you could tell you were making Cat nervous. You'd probably be making Bickel nervous too, but he had so much faith in you, he was completely at ease. The fact that he was sending the two of you to Annapolis for the week on your own was a testament to that fact. 
"You'll do great, Lieutenant Commander," he said when you were in his office to give him a final copy of the powerpoint presentation. "Pretty soon you won't even need me around since you could run the lab yourself. Just bring back all of that funding so we can keep the pilots up in the air for as long as possible."
"Yes, sir," you told him with a smile as he tapped through your slides. He made a few comments, and you took notes, but his trust in you and the Top Gun program always made you feel confident. 
"This looks great. Call me during the week after you give your presentations."
"We will," you promised, and when he dismissed you, Cat was on you as soon as you were back in the lab. 
"What did he think?" she asked, tapping her fingers on the counter. "Did he hate it? Do we have to redo it? You've been so weird all week that it's making me feel weird too!"
You laughed, because for the first time in weeks, you were feeling slightly normal. "He said it's great. We're ready to go."
"Oh," she replied, her fingers relaxing immediately. "I just really want to get a promotion," she whispered. "I really need a pay raise."
"I know," you reassured her. "We'll be fine. I know all of the slides by heart. Bradley has been spending hours practicing them with me."
Cat snorted. "Yeah, something tells me that's a bit of a stretch."
"What do you mean?"
"I've seen you and Bradley in the cafeteria all week," she replied, giving you a knowing look. "Five minutes around him and the two of you go sneaking off. But I guess if I had unlimited access to Jake like that, I would also be 'practicing for hours'."
You knew discretion wasn't your strong suit when it came to your husband, but Cat wasn't going to even humor you trying to deny it. "I've been trying to get as much of him as I can now since I'll have to go days without."
She nodded and said, "We'll have fun though. Maybe we can go out one night for drinks."
The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel like you didn't want to spend time with her in Annapolis. "That would be really fun," you replied with a tight smile. You'd figure it out. Just like you'd figure out how you were going to deal with your parents when you saw them for dinner while you could barely eat. 
When you got home from work on Friday, you parked the red Bronco in the empty driveway and let Tramp outside. You were already packing for the trip when Bradley got home. He came into the bedroom and just looked you up and down with his hands on his hips. 
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked as you stacked up your underwear and some of his shirts that you'd use as pajamas on top of your uniforms on the bed.
"Well I got used to you practically ripping my clothes off as soon as you see me. I half expected you to be waiting on the porch with your panties in your hand."
You laughed. "I'm sorry. Do you want to go back outside and I'll meet you on the porch?"
"Yeah, kinda," he replied, still staring at you with hands planted on his narrow hips. You could feel your saliva pool on your tongue as he smiled, his mustache twitching to one side. "I was just getting used to your pregnancy hormones." 
You had to swallow hard as he shifted his weight and dropped his arms to his sides, but the flex of his biceps got you, because you could see his tattoo. He was several feet away, but you swore you could smell him. Your body clenched with need as he ran one hand through his hair, and your voice came out as a needy moan when you said, "You look good, Roo."
When he met your eyes, you could see that your words had some color rising in his cheeks. His lips parted softly, but you were in his arms before he even got a word out. "So the hormones are still in full effect?" he grunted.
"Oh yeah," you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. "Or maybe it's just how I always am with you."
You were kissing along his neck, inhaling his incredible scent as he rasped, "Sweetheart, I'm going to miss you and the nugget so much next week."
After that, your bedroom was a mess of articles of khaki clothing flying in every direction. Bradley barely got your underwear down your thighs before you were begging for him, and he fucked you while he was still in his boots and uniform pants. Bent over the side of the bed with your face pressed to the bedding next to your travel toiletries bag, you'd never felt as adored in your life. His hands were soft on your hips, and his mouth was feather light as he kissed your spine and between your shoulder blades. 
"I love you so much, Sweetheart," he crooned, bringing you closer with each deep thrust. Then his hand was soft on your belly as he whispered, "Love you," over and over again until you came.
You were still bent over the bed a few minutes later with Bradley still inside you while he ran his fingers up and down your arms and kissed your right shoulder. "I think perhaps I should pack a vibrator or two for my trip?"
"I think that would be wise," he replied with a soft chuckle. "Let's get you packed, and then we can take a bath and eat whatever you and the baby want for dinner."
----------------------------
Bradley opened his Amazon package on Sunday morning while you sat on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet. Your flight was in a few hours, and he had no idea how you were going to make it to Maryland in your current state. He was unboxing everything he could find that was supposed to help with morning sickness so you could take it with you. 
"Just go play golf, Roo," you moaned through the open door. "I can get Cam or Maria to take me to the airport after brunch."
He sighed as he dropped a pack of lollipops on the bed. He had already invited himself to brunch with your friends. While he made the occasional cameo, he was by no means a regular when it came to you eating that avocado toast, but he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible today. 
"I'll be the one taking you to the airport, Baby Girl," he replied as he walked into the bathroom and knelt behind you. "I want to be around you this morning."
You looked at him over your shoulder with watery eyes as you wiped your mouth with toilet paper. "You want to be around this?" Your voice was sarcastic and raw, and he smiled immediately. 
"Always." He kissed your forehead and said, "I'm adding the packs of peanut butter crackers to your suitcase along with the candy I bought. And I got you a pregnancy pillow to help you sleep once you have a belly."
You moaned and said, "I was just going to make you be my pregnancy pillow."
He rubbed your back while you threw up and said, "Well now you have two."
After Bradley loaded your suitcase and gigantic plastic tub of stuff for your presentation into the red Bronco, he helped you finish getting dressed. "There's literally nothing in my stomach now," you told him while you sucked on a ginger candy. 
"Yeah, and that's not a good thing. Are you going to try to eat your gross breakfast?"
"I'm so hungry," you whimpered. "If we don't leave soon, Cam will order my meal for me and start eating it if I'm not there."
Bradley snorted as the two of you walked outside when you were done saying goodbye to Tramp. He steered you to the passenger side door and buckled you into the new Bronco. "I haven't driven her since we brought her home," he said wistfully, running his hand along your thigh and enjoying the new car smell. You looked really tired, and the last thing he wanted to do was send you off to Maryland, but you seemed excited about giving the presentation and seeing your parents. "I might drive it while you're gone so she and I can miss you together."
You gave him a watery smile. "I don't even want to leave you."
"You'll be fine," he told you with a kiss. "You've got your vibrators."
The way you rolled your eyes made him laugh as he walked around to the driver's side door. When he cranked the engine to life and backed out of the driveway, you gasped. "Have I been that horrible to you?"
Bradley took your hand when you reached for him as he drove down the block. "What are you talking about?"
You burst into tears. "I haven't been appreciating you enough. You think I'm just going to miss your cock."
He was trying so hard not to laugh as he turned left, really enjoying the feel of the second Bronco. "Sweetheart, I don't think that at all. You're doing all the hard work right now, not me. And my cock is yours for the taking."
But you just cried softly as you said, "I'll be better when I get back. I promise. And I'll miss all of you. Every little bit." 
Bradley was still wiping away your tears as you wrapped your arms around him when you got to the restaurant. Your emotions were absolutely all over the place right now, and he knew better than to take any of it personally at this point. When the hostess told him that the rest of his party was already here, Bradley was surprised to look up and see Bob at the table with Maria and Cam.
"Oh," you gasped as you and he headed in their direction. "Oh my god, I fucking knew it."
Maria hopped out of her seat to give you a hug, and she seemed a little nervous as she said, "I hope you don't mind that I invited Bob to come too since you said Bradley was coming."
"We don't mind," you told her immediately, and Bradley gave Bob a fist bump while the other man blushed. "It's always nice to see Bob," you said as you bent to kiss his cheek, and his blush grew deeper. 
Then you sank down into the seat between Bradley and Bob as Cam said, "I feel like I just crashed a double date. I didn't know it was 'bring your own aviator to brunch day''."
"I'm sorry," Bradley replied as Cam bit into a piece of cinnamon toast a little aggressively. "I only came so I could take this one directly to the airport afterwards."
"I think that's sweet," Maria said with a smile as she so obviously tried not to look at Bob. Bradley also noted that neither of them denied the words double date. "Mimosas for everyone?"
You hummed quietly while Bradley started to panic, but you smoothly said, "None for me," while you looked at the menu as if you were going to order something other than avocado toast. "The time zone switch is already going to mess me up enough later." 
Bradley drank a mimosa with his stack of five pancakes to seem as inconspicuous as possible, and the conversation was pretty good once Cam calmed down about being aviator-less for the day, but soon it was time to get you out of there. And not just because it was getting late.
"You okay?" Bradley asked on the walk back to the Bronco as you grabbed his hand. 
"I don't know," you mumbled, wrapping your free arm around your stomach. "I miss being able to eat. But I don't really have time to get sick again right now."
"Come on," Bradley coaxed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "I outfitted the glovebox with some plastic bags just in case, but now I'm fucking worried about you being in Maryland without me."
You cried softly the whole way to the airport, but you tried to tell him you'd be okay. If you felt like this after every meal, you wouldn't be able to function until Friday night without him looking after you. It wasn't fair. He was already feeling pretty useless, but this just made him feel bad. Maybe he could figure out how to use his time wisely this week to help get things ready for the baby. 
As he parked at the curb in front of the airline departures door, Bradley realized Jake's car was in front of him. Cat was hugging Jeremiah while Jake unloaded her luggage, and Bradley leaned down toward your belly without delay. "Gotta make this quick, little nugget," he said, kissing you through your shirt. "Be good for Mommy, okay? I love you, and we'll talk again on Friday when you get home."
You ran your fingers through his hair, and Bradley wanted nothing more than to curl up on your lap with your attention on him for the rest of the afternoon, but that wasn't an option. Instead he kissed your cheek and whispered, "I'll get your stuff from the back."
But even stepping away from you for a minute while you cuddled Jeremiah so Cat and Jake could have a minute to themselves was a lot for him, and seeing you with a child in your arms now was making him feel very protective. Jeremiah smashed his little palms against your face, and you laughed and carried him closer to Bradley. "I think he wants to say hi to you, Roo," you whispered while Bradley ran his thumb along the child's soft cheek.
His body buzzed with excitement as he glanced down at your belly. "This is what I'm really excited for," he told you, and your eyes were so soft as you looked up at him. "The three of us are going to be amazing." He kissed your cheek. "Now hand Jeremiah back over so I can give you a proper goodbye."
Bradley gave Cat a little wave as Jeremiah climbed back into her arms, and he watched as you gave Jake a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He whispered something in your ear, and you laughed, and Bradley honestly got a little jealous that the seconds were ticking away before you and the baby would be leaving him alone. Jake could just take a backseat right now. 
When you caught his eye, Bradley knew he must have looked annoyed, but it was just like when you and he left for your honeymoon all over again. "Baby Girl." His voice sounded a little stern, and you responded to his call like he was your magnetic north, practically flying back into his arms. 
Face tipped up to look at him, you said, "I'll miss you," but he didn't let you say anything else. His lips collided with yours as he held you close, hands drifting lower on your back until he was stroking the sides of your belly with his thumbs. 
He wanted to keep you at home and give you anything you needed as he tasted your tongue and your teeth. You moaned softly into his mouth and broke the kiss. Bradley cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and let his forehead come to rest against yours. "Promise me you'll try to eat little meals all day."
"I promise," you whispered breathlessly.
He nodded so that his nose bumped the side of yours. "I packed you peanut butter crackers and ginger candies and ginger tea bags and lollipops. Just try to take it easy, okay?"
"I will, Roo."
He closed his eyes and squeezed you a little tighter. "I really don't want the two of you to leave." Tears stung his eyes as he held onto you, and your fingers on his neck and in his hair calmed him down a little bit. 
"I'll text you nonstop, okay?" you whispered. "I'll let you know what's going on and how I'm feeling, and then we can talk each day when you leave work."
He nodded. "Just please, take care of yourself. I love you so much."
"I love you, Daddy."
He grunted but reluctantly released you, and you stroked your fingers along his cheek. Then you turned toward your luggage and the plastic bin while Jake held Jeremiah who was now in tears as Cat started to walk away. And when you reached for that heavy bin, Bradley almost shouted. 
"Sweetheart," he said as calmly as he could, reaching out to cover your hand with his. "It's heavy."
"I'll take one side," Cat said casually, and you looked up at Bradley with a little smile. 
"I can manage it with Cat," you promised, pecking him on the lips one last time before you lifted one end of the bin. Bradley watched nervously as you and she maneuvered through the door, listening to your voice as you told him you loved him and would miss him. 
"Damn it," he grunted, leaning back against the Bronco once you were out of sight.
"Angel will be back on Friday. Chill," Jake drawled next to him. "I've never seen someone so pussy whipped in my life, old man."
Bradley glared in response before he spoke. "You're literally holding your girlfriend's son. You wanna rethink that last part?"
Jake chuckled and kissed Jeremiah's forehead. "I never said I wasn't bad, I'm just saying that you are absolutely the worst. You'll be pouty all week at work while she's gone, and you'll eat cereal for dinner every night."
"No, I won't," Bradley pouted. "Are you taking care of Jeremiah all week?" he asked, trying to change the subject, but Jake's answer surprised him a bit.
"I'm sharing Jer duties with Uncle Hondo," he replied easily. "Gotta make this whole thing work out if I want to take things to the next level."
"Next level?"
Jake smirked and started walking back to his car. "You're not the only one who can mate for life, Rooster."
Bradley stood there for another beat while Jeremiah got buckled into his car seat. That's what he did alright; he mated for life, and now it hurt when you weren't with him. His deployments sucked, and this week was going to suck, too. But he didn't want to eat cereal and pout nonstop if he could help it. 
"You wanna come by one night? We can lift and take turns playing with Jeremiah and get a pizza or something?"
Jake studied his face and nodded. "Yeah. Thursday?"
"Sure," Bradley replied before climbing back into what was really your Bronco and starting the engine. Now he just had to keep himself entertained until Thursday evening. He turned on one of your playlists and drove home to Tramp and an otherwise empty house. 
"Take a walk?" he asked, reaching for the leash, and the dog went ballistic as he jumped up and down in front of the door. "Relax. You can't be like this when the baby gets here. You'll need to be well behaved all the time." Tramp slammed his rear end down on the welcome mat like he knew what he needed to do already. "That's better," Bradley told him as he clipped the leash onto his yellow collar and took him around the block and down to the beach. 
These walks were decidedly a lot more fun when you were here laughing and talking nonstop and dancing ahead of Bradley on the sidewalk. And now he was thinking about you pushing a stroller next to him while he had Tramp on the leash. Bradley stumbled as he imagined a baby with the cutest face looking up at him while you smiled and talked about the future. 
The reality that this exact scenario could be happening come springtime hit him in the chest and took his breath away. "Let's go," he told Tramp as his excitement mixed with the anxiety he felt nearly all the time now. Because one thing was absolutely certain: Bradley didn't know how to be a dad. You told him it would come naturally. You promised him you weren't lying about that. But if he could just remember a little bit about what it felt like to be a kid with two parents, he figured this feeling would go away. All the excitement in the world wasn't going to prepare him for what came next, and he didn't want to disappoint you or himself. 
It wasn't even dark out when he got back, but he did come up with two projects that would hopefully keep him busy for the evening while he tracked your flight to Annapolis. He didn't like thinking about his shortcomings, especially when you weren't home. He changed into some gym shorts and went upstairs into the rarely visited attic space and started looking around. Then he took some photos and some measurements, and then he started to rip up the ugly flooring while imagining how nice it could be as a bedroom for his kid. Or maybe your parents could stay up here when they visited. Maybe it was big enough to be two rooms.
When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he took it out immediately to see that you had texted him. 
Baby Girl Bradshaw: We landed. It's so late here, and I threw up in the bathroom near baggage claim, and I'm starving, and I'm horny, and I miss you.
He was fumbling with his phone, about to call you or text you back and remind you not to try to carry that heavy bin, but then you sent him a photo. He laughed as he looked at the bin stacked up along with your suitcase and Cat's luggage on a trolley. 
"That's my girl," he muttered, leaving the attic partially torn apart and heading downstairs as he wrote back to you. If you would just take care of yourself all week and come back home to him as soon as possible, he was sure he could figure out what he needed to do. Everything was easier and made more sense when you were together.
He made a bowl of cereal, annoyed that Jake had been right about that much, and he told you to call him once you were settled in your hotel room. Then he took out the pink and blue striped notebook that came with the Amazon shipment and flipped through the blank pages. He found one of your fancy markers in your nightstand, underneath some of the handwritten notes he'd given you and the album of wedding photos. 
Bradley sat down on your side of the bed and wrote Baby Bradshaw on the cover of the notebook before tossing the marker back in the drawer. He lounged back on your pillow and thought about what he wanted to write before picking up a pen and getting started. 
I guess I should start at the beginning. Hi, I'm your dad. I only just found out about you pretty recently, but I'm already excited to meet you. And it's kind of weird that right now, I hardly know anything about you, but by the time you're reading this for yourself, I hope I'll know a lot. I already love you.
When his phone rang with your specific ringtone, he answered right away, setting the notebook aside as soon as you said, "Hi, Roo."
"Hey, Sweetheart. Tell me about your flight."
-------------------------
He's going to be the best dad, and their child is going to be so loved. But those doubts are so real and can be scary. I hope BG makes it back unscathed. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 32
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