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#and i don't even mean WRITE write- i mean just- getting it from my head to keys (or strings occasionally)
rosequarzo · 3 days
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i hope u don’t mind squeezing this lil request in ur inbox ˖  ݁ . ࿓ how abt aventurine coming home from work & clinging onto u like a koala ?? i imagine him being so clingy & tired after work — so he just wants to cuddle w u :< take ur time if you’ll be writing this !! tysm ❤︎
koala cling.
૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! aventurine + reader reader is gender-neutral established relationship domestic fluff tooth-rotting fluff one pet name used usage of aventurine's real name ☆ warning not proofread . . . !? & 580 — catalogue
note. hi bambi!! hopefully you're doing well and of course i don't mind your request <3 this was really cute to write so i hope you enjoy it^^ stay safe xoxo
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Whenever people hear the name Aventurine, their first thought of him was that he was an arrogant man, part of the IPC and part of their management too. He appears charismatic, egoistic and someone who loves to take risks. His motto “High risks comes with high rewards” is something he holds close to his heart.
It is also a common sight to spot him spending time in casinos, gambling to his heart’s content and as always, emerging as the rightful winner. But in the comfort and privacy of your shared home, he sheds his facade, tossing them to the side like a snake undergoing shedding. 
When it’s only you and him, he is nothing more than Kakavasha. What Kakavasha yearns for is peace and quiet as he savors your presence that has become a huge part of his life. No one is able to witness this side of him. No one except you. 
“I’m home,” your ears picked up the familiar sound of Aventurine followed by a pair of approaching slow and heavy footsteps.
You weren’t granted enough time to turn when he hugged you from behind, arms easily wrapping themselves around your waist. Aventurine rested his chin on your left shoulder, observing you as you efficiently sliced the vegetables into thin slices. Goosebumps formed on your skin when he pressed a kiss on the back of your neck and you were certain he was aware of the effect he had. 
“How was work today?” You asked, breaking the silence. 
You heard a dramatic sigh before he replied in a whiny tone; a tone that never fails to make you smile. “I had to go and chase people for their late payments, followed by countless meetings and Ratio was being mean to me! Seriously, he should learn to relax once in a while and join me to get a drink.” 
The thought of the stiff and rigid doctor acting drunk made you sniggered. You had to waddle over to the stove to cook as Aventurine was showing no signs of letting you go; not that you mind.
“Well, you know how he is. Did you encounter any difficulties today?” 
Aventurine buried his head in the crook of your neck, his words slightly muffled.
“Nope, everything was smooth sailing for me. But, I miss you.” His last three words sounded akin to a whine and it made you laugh. 
“You know you have to go to work, Kakavasha. At least you can still come home to me,” you answered, jumping when he playfully poked your sides. His action elicited a light-hearted glare thrown his way but he merely grins, leaning in to kiss you on the corner of your lips. 
“You’re right, now how about you stop whatever you’re doing and cuddle with me, please?” He pleads, going all puppy eyes and even pouting as a further measure. 
And who were you to say no?
You nodded, smiling when he made a noise of happiness and allowed yourself to be eagerly dragged to the couch in the living room. You laid down, opening your arms and Aventurine wasted no time in making himself comfortable above you. You wrapped your arms around him, acting like a shield to protect him from the world and gently brushed your hand through his hair. 
“Rest, my dear Kakavasha. You deserved it,” you whispered, seeing a faint smile formed on his face as he slowly escapes to the land of dreams, with you following shortly after. 
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smusherina · 2 days
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yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10
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Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.
Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.
Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.
You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.
Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...
Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!
You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.
I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.
Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.
I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.
You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!
You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.
The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.
You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.
You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.
It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.
"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"
"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.
"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"
"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?
"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.
"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"
"Stop running!"
"No!"
You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"
You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you to the pavement like a linebacker.
You collided and flew onto the grass. Better than concrete but it still hurt like a bitch.
"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"
"Keep her there, Karen, very good."
"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.
"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."
"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."
"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."
"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.
"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.
"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.
"Why was it in your possession?"
"I don't fucking know! It just was!"
"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"
"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."
"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."
"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.
"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.
"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.
"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.
You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.
"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.
"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.
Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.
Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.
You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.
"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.
"What?" What the fuck was going on?
Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."
"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.
"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.
"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.
"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"
"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.
"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.
"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."
"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.
"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."
"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."
"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.
"You aren't the first to tell me that."
"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."
"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."
"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"
"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.
"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.
"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.
You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.
"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."
"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."
You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.
"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"
"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.
"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."
"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.
"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"
"I'll be the new Regina George."
"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"
"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.
"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.
"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.
"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.
"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."
You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."
Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"
"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."
Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.
With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.
You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.
You'd just be another mean girl.
Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.
Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.
I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.
Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018
(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)
(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)
(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)
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liveontelevision · 1 day
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Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.
You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas
I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.
Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡
Honey | Lucifer x Reader
No smut, just some cute fluff here-
♡♡♡
As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.
Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.
Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.
"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.
"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.
"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.
"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.
"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.
“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.
The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.
You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.
As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 
"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.
"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.
"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 
"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.
"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.
"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.
Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.
"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.
"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.
"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.
"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.
The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.
As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.
You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.
It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.
It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.
"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.
There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.
"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.
"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.
"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.
Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.
Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).
This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.
Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 
"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.
"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.
“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.
“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.
With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.
"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.
“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.
"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.
"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?
"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.
You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.
Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 
"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.
"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.
"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.
“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.
“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.
“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.
The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 
"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.
"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?
"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.
"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.
"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.
"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.
"Of course I don't.." He muttered.
"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.
"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.
You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.
"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.
“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 
“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.
“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.
With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.
“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 
Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.
"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.
"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.
"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.
"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.
♡♡♡
I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends
!Taglist!
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mxtantrights · 2 days
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Hello there, ‘tis I again! Soo happy you enjoyed the boxer!jason request!! I know, i love him too :)))
Today i bring forth another boxer!Jason ask, maybe you introduce him to your friends and they can’t see past the fact he kinda looks like a brute (even tho he’s such a big softie, i truly believe this man reads romeo and Juliet while waiting to get on the ring), and so at the end of the night he’s feeling insecure cause he could see how your friends looked at him and he starts wondering if they are right and you deserve someone who’s softer and more approachable. And obviously reader shows him just how amazing he is!!
Today i yearn for some good hurt/comfort, if you couldn’t tell lol
Hope you have fun writing this one!! Marvellous works 🩷🩷
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Everything goes right before the two of you get there. Thats how Jason knows something is gonna go wrong at this hang out. You told him all week that if he felt like not going, you could cancel. But he didn't want it to seem like he was blowing your friends off. So he trudged through.
He trudged through and is sitting side by side with you in a booth. And three of your friends are crowded into the other side of it. They've had a couple of drinks before you came. You weren't really in the mood to play catch up so you stick to your one while Jason goes dry because he's driving.
They have conversations about the recent news, the latest gossip, and then they ask about your life. Particularly your life with Jason. You start gushing about him, as if he isn't there, and tell them about how you met and how he treats you.
"This guy? This six foot tall, three hundred pounded brick wall?" one of them asks.
You scoff, "How he looks has nothing to do with how he treats me."
"Yeah, but doesn't he-don't you box?" another one of them asks him.
Jason clears his throat and sits up straight. But you notice it. You notice how he is trying to make himself smaller. He did it at the very beginning of your relationship, to make you less scared. You talked to him about it when the two of you got closer, and you haven't seen him do it since. Until now.
"I'm a boxer, yes. But I don't bring any of that home with me." Jason answers.
"Isn't it hard though? When you're angry? I mean who's to say you won't-" the third friend starts.
Hell. This has to stop.
"Enough." you speak.
They all look at you, at a loss for words. While it's true the four of you grew up looking like people who were afraid to tell others no, and looked like doormats, you were far from that person. Those days are over.
"I'm not gonna let you speak to him like that. He has been nothing but kind and open with me, and not that it's any of your business, but he has never laid his hands on me, or raised his voice." you say.
Then you're getting up from the booth, holding your hand out for Jason. He looks between you and your friends and then he's getting up from his seat. He takes your hand in his.
"He's my boyfriend. I want him in my life and I wanna be a part of his. So either you get that or you get lost." You put finally.
You turn around and walk right out the door with Jason. Jason who hasn't said a word yet. Jason who is holding onto your hand in a way that tells you he's not completely paying attention.
When the two of you cross the threshold of the doors, you squeeze his hand.
"Baby?" you ask him.
Jason looks at you then. Like everything is coming back into focus for him. He has a sad smile on his face.
"I'm sorry." He says.
"Don't ever be sorry for being you. If my so called 'friends' couldn't see past what you look like and what you do for a living then they don't need to be my friends." you explain to him.
Jason shakes his head, "You've known them longer than me. It's not fair that-"
"Jason Todd, I am not willing to give you up. For anyone. Ever. You got that?"
Jason lets out a small sigh. "Okay."
You let go of his hand to hold out your arms. He pouts a bit before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you completely. You nuzzle into him more.
"I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I hope you know that." you add on.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"I swear it." you answer.
a/n: thank you so so much for sending this in! <333 I love some good hurt/comfort too!! I hope you like it!!
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milf-murdock · 2 days
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Your writing is literally phenomenal - sincerely, someone who just binged your entire masterlist!! 💗 If you’re interested in this, I’d love to see dark!simon doting on reader when she’s finally pregnant 🤭 I’m sure he’d wait on her hand and foot, soothing and comforting her, but also being so smug because he’s literally a mastermind who’s been planning this for ages
Thank you so much for the kind words, love 🥹🥹 Comments like this mean the world to me and inspire me so much to keep writing 🖤
I fucking loooooooved this ask. When I tell you my brain was instantly just braining. However, I must be fully honest with you 😔 This is so fucking soft. Just. Wildly. Absurdly. Tooth-rottingly sweet. It turns out once dark!Simon actually gets her pregnant he just melts into the sweetest softie ever (shh don't tell anyone). Thinking about writing another part that's filthy smut with dark!Simon and his pregnant girl but I was just so excited about this fluff I wanted to share it lemme know if anyone would want to see that tho
Anyways, here's Simon helping her with morning sickness, Simon hearing the heartbeat for the first time, and Simon feeling them kick for the first time 🥺
Warnings: pregnancy, female reader, mentions of doctors offices, morning sickness, vomiting
Part 1 can be found here and Part 2 (NSFW) can be found here
Simon’s eyes blinked open as he registered your movements. The sound of your footsteps on the floor echoed through the room as you raced to the bathroom. His response was automatic as he rose out of bed, blinking the last dregs of sleep away as he followed your steps to find you kneeling on the cool tile in front of the toilet, dry heaving into the porcelain bowl. It seemed more often than not your mornings started this way. With no hesitation he knelt down on one knee beside you, pulling your hair up and away from your face into a loose pony tail held in his hand. His other hand rubbed soothing circled on your back, gently stroking up and down as he murmured soothing words. 
“I’m sorry, love. ’M sure this bit’s almost over.” 
As if on cue, you wretched once more into the bowl and Simon grimaced at his own poor timing. With a gasp you laid your head on your forearm against the toilet seat, eyes closed while you struggled to catch your breath, one hand rising up to flush the contents down the drain. Simon released your hair and rose to grab a cloth from the cupboard, running it under cool water and wringing it out. 
“Remember, doc said this was all completely normal. Good even, really.” Simon’s voice was nearly as comforting as the cool washcloth he pressed against the back of your neck. “Means the baby is developing and your body’s changing and whatnot.” You finally raised your head up, taking the cloth from Simon and running it over your face. 
“Yeah, still fucking sucks though,” you muttered before leaning back into Simon, his strong arms wrapping around you to pull you into him. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as one hand snaked down to rest against your abdomen. 
“It’ll pass, babe.” Simon pressed another kiss to your temple. “Besides, you’re still stunning.” 
You raised your head off his chest, shooting him the most menacing glare you could muster. “Not in the mood for your sarcasm, Si,” you grumbled. 
Simon brushed a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Not sarcasm, babe. I mean it. You’re glowing.” 
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the soft smile that tugged at the edges of your lips. “Whatever, you’re gettin’ soft.” 
“Don’t I know it,” Simon agreed, pressing another kiss to your cheek before rising and helping you off the floor. “Come on, I’ll go make us a tea.”
___________
It was a well known fact that Simon hated hospitals. And doctors. And, well, really any kind of medical setting. Simon shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to your exam bed. The sterile smell of medical suite was practically burning his nostrils. His leg bounced up and down at a rapid pace, one hand gripped tight on his knee and the other gripping yours in a similar hold. He looked around the room, taking in all the infographic posters explaining the various stages of pregnancy, health adverts, and more.
“Si.” Your gentle tone pulled Simon from his thoughts, his eyes drifting back to your face. “Relax,” you reminded him softly. “It’s okay. I’m here with you.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes drift from yours down to your abdomen. He swore you were beginning to show, just the barest hint of a swell to your belly. 
There was a knock at the door and then the friendly technician entered, introducing herself to you and Simon before placing a paper drape over your lap and having you lay back. You shifted your shirt up whilst she set up for the ultrasound, giving Simon an excited smile as you settled in.
“Oh that’s warm,” you commented as the tech squeezed a light gel onto your bare skin. 
“Yeah, we have a little warmer we keep it in, just something to help make the mum’s a bit more comfortable,” she commented as she started pressing the wand to your belly. 
Simon’s eyes flicked to the screen, the waves of black and grey indecipherable as the tech  moved around your stomach. 
“Ah, there we go. See? Right….here.” The nurse tapped to a black shape on the screen as she pressed the wand a little deeper into your skin. “There’s your baby.” She tapped a few buttons on her keyboard, taking a picture. “Would you like to hear the heartbeat?” 
You nodded enthusiastically, but Simon couldn’t even get a word out. His own heart was racing so fast, his eyes staring at the screen, taking it all in. His baby. There were no words to adequately describe the pure joy, excitement, and absolute terror he was feeling. Y
You and Simon clung to each other, your joined hands serving as a lifeline for you both, tethering you to this moment. You and Simon each hold your breath, unsure what you’re waiting for. 
And then there’s a whoosh, and the sound of a steady heartbeat fills the room. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh my god, Si,” you whispered. “That’s their heartbeat.” 
Simon’s own eyes were misty as he took it all in. “Yeah, babe. That’s our baby.” He blinked the tears away, internally urging himself to keep it together. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “There they are.” 
______
Simon was upstairs tackling the crib that he had been so fucking sure he didn’t need the fucking instructions for, only to find out that the damn pieces weren’t locking into place the way they were supposed to. “Bloody hell,” he growled, tearing through the mess of cardboard and styrofoam to find where he had tossed aside that bloody manual. 
A shout from downstairs had him freezing in place, his blood running cold as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. 
“Simon! Come here! Quick!” You shouted from your place on the couch, urgency in your voice. 
Simon dropped the drill to the floor, racing down the hall and flying down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. His mind spiraled, thinking through doctor’s numbers, fastest route to the hospital, or should he call an ambulance? No, he was positive he could drive faster. He rounded the corner, eyes wide and fixed on you. 
“What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” His questions rushed out like word vomit as he strode to your side. He dropped to one knee, a protective hand resting on your pronounced bump, eyes flitting from you to your stomach. 
“What?” You asked, brows furrowing in confusion at the panic-stricken man panting before you. “No, I’m fine Si, just…here…feel,” you commanded, grabbing his hand and moving it to the lower left side of your stomach. “Wait for it…” you muttered. Simon was still trying to calm his racing heart, trying to take in the fact that you seemed perfectly fine. In fact, if anything, you seemed slightly annoyed. 
“Darling, what—” 
“Shhh!” You snapped. “Wait for it.” 
And then Simon felt it. A little force pressing against his hand, a fleeting sensation that was over as soon as it started. 
Simon’s eyes widened. “Was that?” 
“Mmhmm,” you squealed with a smile. 
“They kicked,” Simon laughed, pure awe on his face. He pressed his hand a little harder against your swollen mound, moving his hand just slightly to the right. He lowered his face to your stomach. “Come on, love, let’s see that again.” As if on cue, he felt a swift kick to his palm. Your laugh mingled with Simon’s as the radiant joy overtook you both. 
“He likes your voice,” you commented, smiling down at your bump and placing your hand atop Simon’s. 
“Of course she does,” Simon teased back. You weren’t finding out the gender in advance, wanting to be surprised. You each had your own suspicions though. At the sound of his voice, another kick hit his palm, harder than both the previous ones, causing you to wince. “Oi,” Simon jokingly chided, giving a stern look to your bump. “Take it easy on your mum. She’s working hard to grow you nice and strong.” Another strong kick. 
“Looks like we have a future football star on our hands,” you commented was you rubbed a hand against your sore swollen side. 
“Maybe they’ll play for Man U.” Simon pressed a kiss to your bump, right where the last kick was before rising off the floor to sit next to you on the couch. His lips found yours, kissing you with a fierceness that took your breath away. “Thank you, love.” His voice was soft as he pulled back from the kiss. “For this. For all of it. This is the greatest gift.” 
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ktaerssoi · 2 days
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hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE
jealously is my middle name
summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.
(678)
kate martin x reader
Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.
By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.
there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."
needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.
"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.
"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.
you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.
she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.
you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.
"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.
"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)
"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."
She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.
"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.
"not jealous my ass."
-
you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)
it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.
okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate
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rosedom · 2 days
Note
a, d, f for anyone you want :3
(also, i'm new to genshin, so i literally know no one besides childe so far... i haven't played in a couple weeks.)
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"your challenger has summoned CYNO to the event . . ."
A/N : more cyno world pls ;c
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✦ㅤㅤA = aftercare (what he’s like after sex, what he needs from his partner)
for such a tough guy persona, cyno is among the softest during and after sex. he's gone so far under that it's difficult for him to come back up afterwards; he's all soft n' bleary, blinking up at you with still-wet eyes and moving slowly, lethargically. he trusts you inexplicably ! this trust, then, manifests in a clinginess; he's wrapped himself around you and refuses to let go. you need to get a cloth? he's holding onto you and refuses to let you move even a foot away. time to take a bath? he's got you in a bear hug—feet wrapped around you waist, arms holding your neck, his own face buried into your neck—, and he forces you to go about setting the water and the soaps and the towels while he's stuck to you.
anyway, how long aftercare lasts with him is impossible to parse. over most night-time fucks, usually all he needs is to sleep it off; he'll wake you up the next morning as his usual, chipper self. a whole night's sleep or a nap is typically enough. but, sometimes he needs the day: for those midmorning and afternoon delights on those rough days—especially on lazy ones—, cyno will be floaty for the entire day. you could have fucked him over the couch at 10 a.m., and he'll still be rather quiet and endearingly clingy at 6. (you won't admit it, but these are always your favorite days—the days where cyno allows himself to fully relax and not worry his pretty lil' head about a single thing !) this quiet, however, is also his favorite to share jokes in—the silence filled only with your light laughter.
here, he does not try to carry his jokes with his voice. he murmurs them breathlessly into your ear, your throat, letting your laughter wash over him and soothe him. you staying, even after all of this—it means the most to cyno.
✦ㅤㅤD = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his)
it's embarrassing for the general mahamatra to admit, but cyno regularly fantasizes about you being the general, he the prisoner. he just has so much control in the day to day; he holds the power to judge others, and it is a hefty burden he so bears . . . but, god—imagining being not the hand in control, being wholly helpless under someone else . . . it really, really gets cyno goin'.
because he'd never say this out loud, it always starts the same: with cyno on his knees, wrists held neatly together as he looks up at you with those doe eyes you so love . . . "please?" is all he needs to ask for you to assume your role in charge of him<3
✦ㅤㅤF = favorite position (this goes without saying . . . )
cuddle-fucking, easily. the exacts don't matter: front to front, front to back—all that matters is that he's enveloped in your arms (the same way your cock is enveloped in those strong thighs or his small cunt). fast n' desperate, or slow and so-very sweet—cyno doesn't care so long as you've got him wholly wrapped up in your arms. he protects everybody—it's not so greedy of him to want to be protected in turn, is it? just this one? (these few hundred times?) with you, he's allowed to indulge in what he desires most. it's a good thing you're eager to abide by his every whim, hm?
it hurts my heart to see such a strong man left to rely on nobody but himself . . . please be sweet to him for me.
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moving along very slowly . . . i think i may start writing less and less. this event is burning me out more than i thought it would LOL i'm so repetitive . . . (also fun fact 'cos i've had so many 'nari asks ,, i only care for cynari nsfw when cyno is subbottoming 😵‍💫😵‍💫)
21 APR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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talkbycolor · 2 days
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monster x mediator headcanons . . . ↷
A/N; mghmgh lo necesito (sexual)
Pairing; "NauseAxe_404" x GN!Reader
CW; weird shit? no bro only him mutilating you / feeling unsafe (cutely) / MONSTER COCK MY FAVORITE / smooching the monster under your bed
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i need him to have a long tongue, its canon in my head
before you even met, he swore you were a couple, he'll propose to you in a cringe-y way if you decide to stay in the room for more than five minutes
He will cut off your arms and legs as long as you don't escape, but don't worry, he will take good care of you and will look for other ways so you can continue writing
if you stay in the room, you can sleep in his bed, he will sleep under it (we all know he will get up while you sleep to hug you)
you can't talk to another human or monster anymore, you were supposed to be together forever, WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GET CLOSE TO SOMEONE ELSE, IF THEY SEE YOU THEY WILL LOVE YOU AND HE DON'T WANT THAT
the walls of his room are full of drawings of you and him, photos too since his artistic skills cannot portray your beauty very well and to be honest, neither can the cameras but he loves to see you wherever he turns his gaze
no matter how scared or angry you look, in his eyes, you would never do anything wrong, it is impossible for his superstar to make a mistake in any way, all your writings are perfect, your voice, your body, your eyes, your skin, your teeth, your hair, everything
he's basically a dog, he can't help but gasp with excitement when he sees you, rubbing his crotch against you, drooling in your face even if you complain, he's not going to stop
"you bruise so beautifully", imperfections do not exist, he may be fucking you until he tears you but his look of love will not disappear, on the contrary, he will fall in love with your whimpers, with how you scream in such an adorable way
on the contrary, if you seem bored, he will ask you to hit him, take off his pants, cover him with bruises, all for love (cuarteto referencia)
you are still human, you need to eat, sleep, breathe. WELL FUCK YOU, you won't go anywhere even if it's just to look for food, you can sleep in his bed, you can breathe his air if you have to but don't go DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO
to be honest, you wouldn't be able to stand his pace, he'll fuck you until you vomit, even if you're bleeding, he'll feed you his saliva and your limbs will give in sooner than you think. but don't worry, he will continue loving your corpse
how many opportunities would you have to dress your superstar? He would take the opportunity to get adorable clothes and dress yourself with his own hands, putting slippers on your feet, cute bows in your hair, you don't need underwear, awww, look at you! such a pretty doll
he would never let you touch his axe, i'm sorry my love, but you have to respect his limits in the relationship, if you don't, do you really love him? of course he would never doubt the love you have for him! he just want understanding from you, dear
if you are willing, i also understand you, if they do give you the option to fuck a monster, you just take it but keep in mind that you will not be able to go to the hospital, that night you will know the true meaning of monster cock, it does not fit through your mouth and i highly doubt that it will fit your ass
even though he looks so desperate and willing to do unethical things, your biggest fan is a little shy. if you show him affection or interest, the red on your lips will sync perfectly with the red in his eyes. isn't that romantic?
he's smarter than you think, he probably used his ax quite a bit before you showed up at the hotel. it is a relief that you had never covered the camera of your cell phone or computer while you masturbated, after showering, while sleeping even, and yes, he obviously hacked your electronic devices
idk man, he seems pretty acoustic to me, you and axes as special interests, unstable reactions to changes he cannot control, poor understanding of other people's body language or facial expressions, specific way to organize or have his room
"babe give me a reason not to kill those who look at you" "you can't fuck me if you're in prison"
no es un chico malo, solo quiere ser él mismo
"everyone is so mean to me"
MAN I JUST LOVE HIM MY DELULU KING UEUEUUE
you don't have to say "I can fix him", he himself will tell you "FIX ME" (spoiler: you cant)
he looks cute when he cries, doesnt he?
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sunkissedbedard · 1 day
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wait ok i need you to write something trevor zegras based on a taylor song from rep, i saw u said it’s ur fave album so maybe call it what you want or king of my heart but honestly any song at all 🫣
a/n: anything for you 🥰 call it what you want is my all time favourite & the song that welcomed me to become a swiftie so it holds a special place in my heart 🥹 i hope you like it 🫶🏻✨
warnings: none except an overwhelming amount of fluff!
tags: trevor zegras x reader
word count: 0.8k
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"god, it's like i can't even go online anymore with another one of those bot accounts making some stupid, half-assed comment about us." you said through a laugh to the boy next to you on the couch. trevor had finally had a day off from his busy hockey schedule with the ducks, so the two of you had decided what better way to spend the time together, than at home in the comfort of each other while you spent countless hours cuddling and watching movies.
trevor had immersed himself in a round of video games with a few of his other teammates while you had gone to do a load of laundry, as an intermission to your movie session. when you returned, you contently watched on the couch as he continued focusing intently on the screen before him.
"oh, c'mon, you know it's bullshit, y/n. they just say those things out of spite and because there's jealous." he responded, eyes still glued to his game. your mouth downturned into a frown at his lack of awareness towards something that has previously upset you. trevor knew that it was a sensitive topic for you, the comments of outsiders would always linger and keep you up at night, regardless of if you looked at them or not. even if you chose to ignore it, you knew they were still there.
"yeah, i know. but that's such a cliche; some of those things hit deep, whether they're saying it out of spite," you responded with a hint of mockery laced in your voice, nudging his hip with your foot to get his attention, to which you received no response, making you even more frustrated with the boy.
"y/n," he sighed, "you know, no matter what they say, that doesn't change how i feel about you." he promised, stopping his game and turning to face you. as he saw your saddened state as your shoulders shrugged down, his eyes slightly widened before he rushed to your side and pulled you into him so you were now laying on his chest. you inhaled his familiar scent that had seeped into the fabric of his soft hoodie you gifted him, and you felt yourself relax into him, as he pulled you into a tighter hug.
"it just gets to be too much sometimes, y'know?" you mumbled into his chest before lifting your head to meet his softened gaze. he reached forward to cup your cheek, meeting your lips with a soft and wet kiss, your lips detaching like velcro from wanting more from each other.
"i know, y/n. but i want you to know that there is nothing in this world that could change the way i feel about you. you are the best thing to ever happen to me, and i will forever be grateful that we bumped into each other that one day, or else we wouldn't be here." he paused to give you a soft smile, "i don't know what i would do without you, and letting people online get in your head to convince you otherwise? it's not worth your time, my love." he said looking into your eyes as every word fell of his tongue with such meaning, you could feel your heart warming and you broke out in a smile in response.
"i love you, trev, i don't know what i'd do without you either, you're an angel sent from above. you've made my world such a better place now that you're in it, and even though it's discouraging, being with you like this," you motion to your proximity, "it makes me feel like they fade to nothing when i look at you."
you lips reconnect with his, with more intimacy and passion this time, as you readjust yourself to be sitting, pressed against each other to feel each other's warmth.
you part, resting your foreheads against each other and laugh at the silence, "honestly, i'd wear your initial on a chain around my neck if i could," you spoke randomly, earning a raised eyebrow from trevor as he then furrowed his brows in confusion.
"you would? i mean- that seems a little possessive, don't you?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down the side of your arm.
"no, well- i wouldn't wear it in a way that says you own me, more so, because you really know me." you stated with a shrug.
the pair of you look at each other in silence, each of you confused at what you had just said, before bursting into laughter as he lunged towards you, carefully tackling you back onto the couch so you laid under him as he attacked your face with wet kisses.
he pulled away from you, looking down with shortness of breath from his surge of energy, "you're crazy, you know that?" he asked.
"what are you talking about, you love crazy." you responded, which only ended up with you laughing endlessly from the kisses he placed all over your face and neck.
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wehangout · 2 days
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Heya Jen gallavich & 21 please! 💕
Send me a number and I’ll write a gallavich kiss 👄
Thank you, Myn!
21. - - on a place of insecurity (I wrote this as, like, a moment of insecurity, like mentally in a place of insecurity. And only now realise it might have been a literal place, like an area of the body? IDK, this is what you get, hope you like it!)
You've been engaged for seven hours. Five of those were spent kissing and fucking and touching and savouring and celebrating in the way you and Ian celebrate everything. But those were the five hours in between. The first hour was the walk home, the kisses and giggles and touches as you made your way down the street. The last hour was Ian asleep, head on your stomach, naked and sated.
You can't sleep.
You can't sleep and you know yourself well enough to know that you won't sleep until you fix it. You'll stew and you'll get antsy and you'll take it out on Ian. So you nudge Ian.
"Hey."
He mumbles something and fucking snuggles his face into you. You sigh, so stupid in love that you can't fucking deal. Even so, you slide out from beneath him and lean up on your elbow.
"Sleep," he murmurs, arm tight around your waist, and you run your fingers through his hair.
"Gotta talk to ya."
He inhales deeply through his nose and forces his eyes open because he knows you, knows that those words aren't just what do you want for breakfast or how long until we have to be up or wanna go again?. Those words mean something. He blinks heavily a few times before pushing himself up to his own elbow.
"What's goin' on."
And because you can't get his look at the courthouse out of his head, you spit it out.
"We don't have to get married, you know? I mean, we can just be together, if that's what you want."
He blinks once and all sleepiness is gone from his face. "What are you talking about?"
"S'just ... you didn't want to. And I don't want you to do it just because you know I do want to."
"Mick -"
"I would've come home anyway, Ian. You didn't have to propose to get me back."
He stares at you for a long time before moving one hand up to your chest, your heart, his tattoo. He swipes his thumb over it and frowns..
"You think I don't wanna marry you?"
Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm not - that's not ... fuck."
Fuck, because this is now how tonight was supposed to go.
Fuck, because you're giving him an out when you really don't fucking want to.
Fuck, because there's a burning behind your eyes that you can't stop.
"Mick," he says, and then nothing until you meet his gaze. "Remember when I said I loved you more than anything? I mean that. I meant every word I said tonight. And do you know what I want? More than fucking anything in this fucked up world?"
You swallow back the lump in your throat. "Soundproof walls?"
He smirks. "Sure. But also to spend the rest of my life with you. To wake up with you every morning and go to sleep next to you every night and kiss you whenever the fuck I want."
"Pussy," you say, but it's with a sniff that takes away any heat.
"Pretty much," he agrees. "I wanna marry you. I wanted to marry you at that fucking courthouse but pussied out because I'm a fucking pussy."
"Can we stop talkin' about pussy now?"
He leans forward and kisses you - you lips, your forehead, your eyes - and then hits you with that beautiful Ian Gallagher smile.
"I wanna marry you," he promises, "and the next time I hear you questioning that I'm gonna tell Lip he can officiate the wedding."
You snort. "Fuck you, Gallagher."
He kisses you again and again, whispering against your mouth and skin those same words over and over again....
Wanna marry you.
Wanna marry you.
Wanna marry you.
Until you're a shaking mess and you believe it. You believe him.
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mickedy · 16 hours
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do you have strong feelings about minnie? the way disney writes her bothers me severely, i'm trying to find out how to write her better and i'd like help!
she's always written as nothing more than a mickey genderswap, they have the exact same character strengths and flaws, i want to write her like how ortensia is written to oswald or daisy is written to donald (in. ducktales 2017 at least when they dont feel like being . so toxic.), theyre character foils and they work better together
for example daisy is more practical and sassy and headstrong?? while donald isn't very practical he is very emotional and in the moment and isnt as ambitious as her he's just a guy
but minnie doesnt compliment mickey in any way their relationship is just Same Braincell Teehee
and its like every time disney TRIES to have friction between the two its usually making minnie less interesting than mickey in the sense he's going off the walls insane and she has to fold her arms and make him stop, w donald and daisy donald has to ground daisy sometimes but minnie can usually do no wrong ever??
i want to write minnie as mickey's foil in a similar way because she's always a copy and paste mickey and she deserves so so so much more, but im also worried that making a foil for mickey would stray too far from minnie's personality range?? which is why i keep referencing donald and daisy specifically because they have similar personalities but still manage to be foils, and i ALSO dont want to make her copy and paste ortensia, WHILE ALSO NOT MAKING HER JUST LESS INTERESTING MICKEY AS THEY DO SOMETIMES by just writing her as feminine mickey without the character flaws he has, so its a really weird balancing act here
You hit the nail on the head with a lot of points here. I've always found Minnie to be the MOST sidelined out of the 5 in terms of characterization. She's almost always written as "girl mickey", very interchangeable with him, not really developed with her own personality in mind independent of her relationship with Mickey.
I guess on a lot of levels I consider Minnie and Mickey to be like... really sturdy nuts. They have these extremely tough shells surrounding them, they are two of the most private people you will ever meet. Outwardly friendly, outwardly pretty boring and unemotional, a pretty vanilla flavored couple at any way you look at them.
But, we don't really get to see what goes on under that shell. What they're like in private. My favorite stories with Mickey are the ones where they crack open the shell, even just a smidge-- and we get to look on the inside. What we see is almost always the same. Above all else, Mickey cares about his friends. Mickey cares about his friends so much that he would take a bullet for each of them. He would give up everything. Friendship means more than anything else to Mickey Mouse.
On the flipside, we don't really get that same introspection with Minnie. I can't think of a time where they let her be emotional, like that. She's sweet and patient and polite and filled to the brim with goodness and kindness, but that's just what her shell looks like. She's very, very reserved. Like Mickey, maybe even moreso.
A lot of this is definitely because the writers don't really care about Minnie on that level, because she's Woman and she's Girlboss and whatnot. When they show her being emotional, it's pretty much always played up for laughs because Women Are Emotional amiright wink wink nudge nudge 😁🔫 <- (he does not know he is playing into misogynistic tropes)
But I like to think she just has these incredibly sturdy walls around her character. You will most likely never get to see what her private self is like in the entire time that you know her. I seriously doubt Minnie's actual friends know that much about her.
Mickey cares about his friends, but what does Minnie care about...? Where Mickey is an optimist, I consider Minnie to be a pessimist. That is a very strange claim to make, I know. But I think the reason we never see her walls break down is because... there'd just be more walls. She's such an incredibly reserved individual, she'd rather stick her hand in a paper shredder than admit that she's got feelings.
She's pretty no-nonsense in that regard, too. Mickey is a compassionate guy, but Minnie is more quick to lash out and start kicking and yelling when someone pisses her off. Tying back to the whole "friendship is Mickey's emotional core" thing... friendship is definitely not Minnie's.
I'm not saying she's not friendly. She's incredibly friendly! She's such a sweet and affectionate individual. But it's all very much an outward thing. I think, if you're looking for a "foil", that's definitely where they clash in that regard. Mickey is a plain, unassuming guy who-- at his core-- is sweet and silly and compassionate, and motivated by his love for his friends. Minnie is outwardly sweet and silly and compassionate, but doesn't have that same motivating factor, the deeper you look.
In the end, this is all really my interpretation of Minnie's character. Because she is definitely a victim of misogynistic writing, which sucks 🤷‍♀️ But I do think there is a lot of potential to make her and Mickey clash a lot more often than they're shown to... because, they don't really show themselves to anybody! That sort of intimate exploration of their character is something that really only comes out with each other. Which leaves a lot of room to mold their inner personalities into something much more interesting...
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letterstoear · 2 days
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A letter only you can answer
Notes: Gojo x reader, to be perfectly honest I'm not that well verse on JJK but I've been wanting to write Gojo for so long and came up with this. After reading more about him I think he would respond with something rather bittersweet like this. The idea was a serious love letter from Gojo.
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Sweetheart,
Listen I know you don’t want to hear this response, but I’m not going to say I love you right away. If you want, I can wrap my hands around your waist and love you all night long. No feelings attached. Knowing you, you’d probably hate me if I did. Then again maybe I should if it’ll change the way you feel about me. Knowing you though, you’re not going to take it like the thousands of people before you who say they love me.
Earlier when you explained what your love was, I felt it. With each word falling from your mouth the stronger I felt it. Your love towards me is quite strong, isn’t it? I wonder how long it’s going to last. To you it doesn’t matter if I feel the same. No, you just wanted me to know there was someone who loves me. Not Satoru Gojo the strongest, no its the Satoru Gojo who’s underneath all of that. The one who’s not just strength personified.
Trying to love me unconditionally now aren’t you.
When did it all start for you? Don’t tell me it was the night you barged into my house. I couldn’t forget the words which fell out of your mouth even if I wanted to. That’s how much your words struck me. You went and said “wow, for a man who’s so wanted, so strong, you sure are lonely” what a response. Especially when I showed you such hospitality that night. I’m sure of it, everything changed after you spent the night with me.
Or have you been in love with me for much longer?
I know I have, but I never said anything because how could I? To tell you I love you knowing the muddy road ahead of us. I wasn’t going to blindly head into that kind of world with you. No, I wouldn't let myself see even a fraction of that reality. Loving you means I’m one step closer to losing you.
Do you get it ________ if you really want to be with me, understand the full force of it all. Promise me you want this. Being together with me isn’t going to be full of sunshine, no you’re going to have to keep me sane. I’ll lose myself even more than I already have if you’re gone. Standing by my side needs to be done with confidence, even if it’s fake.
Now that I’ve laid it all out for you, what are your plans? Will you still choose me even if it means changing this damn world so that unforgivable reality never comes true.
_________ When you’re ready to answer, don't hesitate, I can take your truth.
Love,
Satoru Gojo
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kamig4mes · 7 hours
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heyy, could you please write headcanons for how shigaraki would react/feel with a gn s/o who gives him small things that remind them of him? like, they see a red rock and give it to him bc its the color of his eyes, that kind of stuff
hey hey honey, of course! It's the first request from mha that I make here, although I must admit that I didn't expect it to be from shigaraki! ksdjdjsj 🤭 anywaay, I came up w/ a couple of things for this boy, I hope you enjoy it
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#pov: Shigaraki would react/feel with a gn s/o who gives him small things that remind them of him.
★ warnings: realistic hc, fluff, established relationship, affection, couple love, league of villains
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—shigaraki!
Realistically, you don't even know how you managed to get this guy to end up being your boyfriend. I mean, your mental dictionary is so broad and far-fetched but the words "love" "consideration" "passion" seem not to be included in it but here they are both! Celebrating even the smallest things you do for him.
Sometimes the gifts with the most emotional meaning are found when you least expect it.
They were walking hand in hand through some deep neighborhood of the city with a path to the forest when something suddenly made you brake sharply and scream.
"Oh my- STOP!!"
"WHAT?!"
Shigaraki flinched when he heard you, alerting all his senses. You got rid of his grip to step back on the way to take something in your hands.
When you came back to his side he looked at you surprised, almost angry.
"Here, take it honey" your arms outstretched towards him with that smile adorning your face, he was looking at you like you were crazy "it's for you"
"If it's a fcking spider I swear to yo-"
"Who do you take me for? C'mon, just hold out your hands" he reluctantly does as you ask, rolling his eyes when you smiled in victory.
At first Shigaraki stiffened when he felt the light weight on his bare palms, moments later he relaxes when he sees that it was a small stone. But not a current.
"A red stone?"
"Yea', a little weird, isn't it? But.. It reminds me of the color of your eyes.." you confessed, feeling your cheeks (and his) burn red hot.
Shigaraki froze instead. The poor man didn't expect to hear you say that, and he never expects it! He's not at all familiar with this type of treatment and sensations that you generate for him, and despite having been dating for a couple of months, this type of affection is still unexpected for him.
Deep down, his heart warmed up like a torch, sending his brain the signal to shout out all the tenderness that you generated in him with that simple gesture. But he couldn't, he felt blocked and too shy to answer correctly.
Since your boyfriend was silent for what seemed like a whole minute, you rushed to bring his attention back.
"We must get back soon before dark, don't you think? We don't want to get lost" you laughed, awkward kissing his cheek quickly. You didn't need him to respond to your acts of love, you understood his heart perfectly. But, sometimes, you wished he would express his emotions more with you.
"And I'm so sorry for yelling earlier"
"Uh-mh, it's okay.." Shigaraki sighed, before linking his hands again and kissing the top of your head "let's go back home"
You learned to identify your eccentric boyfriend's tastes and understand his peculiar manias, but you suspected that you still had a lot to discover about his twisted inner world.
It was just another day of the year when, while cleaning inside the drawers of Shigaraki's bedside table, you came across a somewhat small and neglected notebook with his name engraved on the lid.
You decided to take a look at it, surprising yourself with the amount of sketches that were embodied inside. And you couldn't help but melt with tenderness when you saw that a large part of the drawings that filled that notebook were you portrayed. You rushed to leave it where you found it and get on with the cleaning. It seemed strange to you that that book was out of place but thanks to that cluelessness, you discovered that Shigaraki liked to draw.
From that moment on, every instrument/drawing material you saw reminded you of him. And without realizing it, you ended up buying an impeccable set of graphite pencils for him.
When Shigaraki returned home in the afternoon, a box with a note greeted him in the living room. He looked everywhere in your search, in vain. The white-hair then approached the table to inspect the gift.
"This reminds me of you, and I think it may serve you. All yours"
As he guessed, the calligraphy was yours. Upon unveiling its contents, the thousands of drawings inside his notebook whipped his mind, clearly remembering every moment he made them, especially those where you were: sitting in the living room, in bed asleep, with your back on the balcony, etc. Just thinking about it, his corners rose in a smile that, if you were looking at him, you would be disarmed of love.
"God.. So adorable..."
He may never ask you how you found out about his hobby, but that didn't interest him. Because the best piece of art he can have is you. It will always be you.
Luckily, you have in mind his love for sweet foods. It became essential for you to buy breakfast cereal, specifically the sweetest flavor that existed on the market because it seemed to be the only one that met the necessary sugar levels for him. It's the first thing you look for when you come back from shopping.
"Tomura, honey, I'm home!" you screamed once you entered his warm abode. Soon you heard how a few footsteps crawled down the stairs to receive you next to a kiss.
"You're back soon" Shigaraki took the bags from you and carried them to the kitchen, poring over their contents. When he didn't see it anywhere, he questioned you, "Did you buy it?"
"Of course, it was already running out"
Shigaraki examined your facial features to make sure you weren't lying.
"The one with the double honey-? "
"The one with the double honey and sprinkles, baby, here it is" and you waved the long-awaited colorful box.
Shigaraki blinked with a hidden surprise when you finished his sentence. He loved that you remembered the details about him, he loved feeling special and listened to. Especially if it was you.
The white-hair nodded before turning around to leave the kitchen and go back to his business, hiding from you that goofy smile that was starting to outline on his face.
Whenever you pass by a video game store, the impulse to buy a game from their range of tastes ends up taking over you in some way or another.
"What are you getting me now, puppy?" he mumbled a barely audible giggle as he took the rectangular gift and tore the wrapper "Is this another one of your jok- Oh.."
His eyes widened as he observed the package in his hands. That limited edition Mario Kart game that came out a couple of weeks ago had him so surprised.
"Damn, y/n.."
With his role as a villain, he had moved away from his gamer side quite a lot. But he made sure that no one touched his glorious shelf full of his best and favorite video games. And you were there to stock that dusty shelf, to remind him that that side of him isn't quite dead.
"Do you like it? Although it's not such an important thing"
"Isn't it such an important thing?!" Shigaraki raised his voice offended.
You shrugged your shoulder, feigning indifference even though his beautiful surprised little eyes had you internally screaming "I thought it was missing from your collection"
Shigaraki looked again the video game, his heart turning completely upside down, not believing that you could give him something so difficult to get in the first weeks of release, but you would do anything for him.
He subtracted the space between you, catching you by surprise when he pulled you by hugging you tightly.
"Thanks u, babe.."
As long as it comes from you no matter what you gave him, even if he doesn't show it to you verbally, he appreciates all your gestures.
You smile softly, stroking her hair "don't thank me, honey"
That's the way he was, shy, inexperienced, spontaneous and shy just like a little boy. But little by little that child was growing up, opening up to the affection that you offer him and experiencing the rules of love with you by his side because thanks to you the words "love" "consideration" "passion" were added to his mental dictionary with a clear and real definition, thus finding ways to show you all that love that he also has to give you.
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©2024 / ENJOY ♡ — I was as realistic as possible, I like hc's to be like that. If you liked it, don't forget to repost it so that it reaches more little people. Thank y, I love them!
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cerisahh · 3 days
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STARGIRL!
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SYNOPSIS ꒱ one of dg’s fangirls becomes his partner (reupload)
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REQUEST ꒱ here for dg crumbs 🥹 with a non fighter, average reader, like she is average and doesn't have much that stands out to her and is a dg simp. she simps hard for this man. not a toxic or psycho fan but a supportive one. we need more dg content!! 🤧 oh right! it could be james with an average non fighter s/o as well. it would make my day if you could do this really! thank you for reading! - 🐇
NOTE ꒱ hi rabbit anon 🐇, sorry it took so long to get around to this, i am lazy! i won’t write for james just yet as i haven’t got far enough in the manwha to really know his backstory and personality, so i hope this is alright instead! hope you enjoy the read regardless though - and thank you for requesting!
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• you first met at one of his autograph signings.
• you were the last person to be let into the line, luck was on your side!
• by the time you had gotten to the front, dg was pretty exhausted, it had been a long day and he was looking forward to an evening of relaxation.
• you come forward, you go through the basics - he thanks you for coming, a little small talk, he signs a few pictures.
• you were allocated five minutes to talk to him, but to his surprise you begin saying your goodbye’s early. he’s confused, usually people try and go over the five minute limit, not under.
• after he informs you that you still have three minutes left, you get a little flustered and explain that he looks pretty tired, and that he should get some rest.
• in his head he’s like how does she know… nonetheless you bid eachother a good night and both leave to retire to your homes.
• dg thinks about your interaction whilst getting ready for bed that night, not many of his fans are that considerate or pay much attention to his body language, he mentally thanks you for your consideration when his head hits the pillow.
• you on the other hand are going ballistic. did you JUST meet dg??? omfg. AND you had a conversation?? you were just thankful you didn’t stutter over your words. you comb through the pictures he signed and stick them around your vanity.
• you meet more times after that, mostly at his meet and greets but he's spotted you in a few event crowds.
• your conversations gradually get more friendly and personal. he actually finds himself forgetting to keep up his idol persona when in your company.
• he makes the first move, asking you if you want to grab a drink after his meet and greet is over.
• and OH BOY do you struggle to hide your excitement, you agree and meet him at the place he mentioned.
• he’s in disguise, of course. a mask, sunglasses, and a brown wig. you don’t recognise him at first but he waves you over to a booth table.
• he doesn’t mention it but he’s glad you didn’t recognise him. if you didn’t see through his disguise, not many people would.
• these little lunch get togethers continue for a couple months, gradually you guys come to expect hanging out with eachother on that specific day of the week.
• dg likes that you don't hold him to any ridiculous standards. you didn't when you first met, you don't now.
• a year in, as the coffee get togethers graduate from; “see you next week!” to, "it's getting late… wanna crash at my place?", dg begins to realise he likes you.
• when he does realise this, it's really out of the blue. the pieces just click into place and he's like - oh!
• dg enjoys your company, of course! but he’s hyper aware of his idol status, he doesn’t want to bring you into that world if he can help it.
• he already knew you liked him romantically. i mean, he's got thousand of fans, he's used to them having crushes on him, it's always obvious - it just so happens that you found your way into his life.
• after his journey of self discovery he clears his hectic schedule the best he can to spend more time with you.
• when you two do eventually get together officially, after an excruciating amount of time dancing around blurred lines, you don't publicise your relationship.
• you and dg both understand the consequences it would have not only on his idol career but on your wellbeing, fangirls can be insane! you would know.
• i feel like his love language would definitely be quality time. since he usually has so little of it to spare, every moment counts. those focused and uninterrupted conversations, where the only thing that matters is you two, on that moment.
• to be honest, i’d put acts of service high up on this too. i don’t think he’d care all too much about gift giving (with how rich he is, material objects lose their value), physical touch i reckon he’d be normal with, it is given and received in moderate amounts.
• words of affirmation are at the bottom of the list. honeyed words are all good and nice but actions speak louder than words. he’d rather show he cares than simply say it.
• he does offers to teach you how to defend yourself, whether you accept or not is up to you!
• i also think this man is the OPPOSITE of a blanket hog. like he sleeps with the THINNEST sheet over him and every time you ask him if he wants to come under the nice warm duvet covers he says he’s too hot already.
• yet he still cuddles with you at night, hmmmm 🤔.
• don’t even get me started on if you offer to massage his shoulders after he’s had a long day. dg is sure he’s been sent an angel from heaven.
• going out for your dates requires caution, but at this point dg would do anything for you.
• usually date nights take place in your apartment though. dg is very much a classic kind of guy so make sure you’ve got some vases because you should be expecting flowers from him by now.
• relaxing with you at the end of the night is often the highlight of his day. free from flashing cameras and over eager fans - not that he didn’t appreciate his glamorous lifestyle! after all, it’s how he met you.
• so when you’re both curled up on the sofa or in bed, with you fast asleep in his arms, he allows himself a moment to think of his future, your future. together.
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© CERISAHH 2024 — all fics on this account belong to… ME! don’t steal my shit.
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malarkgirlypop · 3 days
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MEDIC! Part 27 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)
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Oh guys this is a hard read for my first post in a hot second. I have been slow at writing this, cause this is super important and I don't want to have it be bad, or tacky. This is obviously horrible what happened to these people, and sometimes that horrific a of an event is hard to put into words. This is in means no way to offend anyone.
Disclaimer: End part of episode 9, if you are not comfortable with this please don't read.
Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.
Tag list: @imusicaddict, anyone else please let me know.
We again piled into the trucks, we were making good time, but it still felt like years being in the back of the vehicle. Babe had kept my secret from everyone like I had asked, but I caught him sending me looks throughout the night. The sadness still lingering in his eyes from the conversation we had had previously. All I could do was send him small smiles. 
We passed through the green countryside, chatting amongst ourselves. The rolling plains seemed endless, as they stretched out for miles, further than the eye could see. 
The trucks passed through the outskirts of the small rural town, a decrepit barn sat on the side of the road. Even from over the roar of the engines from all of the vehicles driving by, I could still hear the yells of men. I look to the barn curious about the commotion, everyone else also peering over. The barn door swung open as soldiers tossed men onto the ground, I could see from here the men were wearing German uniforms. I couldn’t look away fast enough as the soldier’s standing behind the men raised their guns, shooting them in the back of the head. I turned my eyes away from the scene, not wanting to witness the brutal killings. 
The other men seemed unfazed.
Except for O’Keefe, who looked around to his fellow comrades with shock on his face. They didn’t return the sorrow that etched his features, only shrugging their shoulders, or smiling at the man for looking so distraught by what he had seen. 
His eyes finally landed on mine. I returned the look of sadness and horror, but mine was worn with memories behind it. O’Keefe eyes shone with new fear and sadness, whereas mine was tattered and old. O’Keefe had not yet known the horrors of war, I guess that’s why the men didn’t reciprocate his concern. We all had seen much worse than a few men being shot in the head. 
What an odd statement to make. To realise. 
O’Keefe’s reaction was only natural, but for us it wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was a sad reality to think we were accustomed to the horrors we had seen.    
We finally pulled into the little town. The men quickly departed the trucks, getting orders from the Lieutenants. We weren’t staying the night, just stopping for a break, before continuing on in our journey. 
“I have to go on a patrol through the woods.” Don said as he approached me. I nodded my head, giving him a smile. There wasn’t much for me to do here, we weren’t unpacking, so I hung around the officers in case they needed me for something.   
“Ok, be safe.” I placed a kiss on his cheek. I watched as he walked away joining the rest of the men he was going with. 
—----------------------------------------------
“Emily! Guys! Hey, have you seen any of the officers?” Frank yelled from behind us. I turned to face Perconte, his normal playful expression filled with urgency. 
“No.” Babe, Lieb and I all stated. 
“Is everything ok, Frank?” I asked the man, my face changing to concern for my friend. He had been on one of the patrols. Everyone else had come back from theirs except for their group. But Frank was by himself, where were the other men? Even Don had come and gone, saying they hadn’t found anything. Frank didn’t answer me though, sprinting from one soldier to the next, asking the same questions. 
I watched him, my brows furrowed and lip caught between my teeth. Babe and Lieb seemed to have brushed off the odd interaction going back to the conversation they were having. 
“Ain’t that right, Em?” Babe nudged me, but my gaze was still fixed on Frank running around frantically. 
“Em?” Lieb asked, clicking his fingers in front of my face. 
“I think something’s wrong.” I told them, my stomach churning. I felt unsettled, something not sitting right in my gut. 
“He’s probably fine.” Lieb said, lighting his smoke, taking a deep drag from the cigarette. “Don’t look so worried, Emmy.” He tried to reassure me, stroking his hand down my back. But I shook my head. I set off after Frank as he ran into one of the buildings. 
“Em, where are ya going?” Babe called after me. But I didn’t turn to explain. I ran after Frank, gaining on him as I sprinted, dodging my way through the crowd.   
Frank found Winters first. The red haired man walked out of the building they had been temporarily occupying. I hung back not wanting to interrupt them, but I was desperate to know why Perco was so frantic. 
“Major Winters, Sir.” Frank started chasing after the officer who walked briskly towards where I stood. 
“Uhh, we found something.” Perco didn’t seem to know how to phrase his words. The pair passed in front of me, I followed behind them closely, eavesdropping in on their conversation. 
“We’re out on patrol and we came across this…” Frank stopped trying to find the right way to describe what he had seen.
“What, what, what, what?” Major Winters prompted Perco trying to get him to spit out what he wanted to say. 
“Frank, Frank, what is it?” Winters seemed just as concerned as I did. Perco stood in front of Dick, mouth agape, trying to think of how he wanted to explain himself. 
“I don’t know, sir.” He uttered, shaking his head. 
At that moment my stomach dropped. I didn’t know why, but something about how flustered, confused and scared Perco looked set me on edge. 
This war wasn’t pretty, hell no war was. But there were horrific things done, so many lives lost. There were a number of explanations as to what their patrol found, each one just as dreadful as the next.  
Winters saw that too. He loaded a couple groups of men into the back of the trucks, myself included. With Frank in the front car with the rest of the officers, he gave directions back to where the patrol waited.
I sat between Don and Lieb, no one seemed to take Frank’s worries seriously. The men in the bed talked and chatted casually to each other. I sat elbows on my knees and head in my hands, I couldn’t stop my leg from jittering and my stomach churning. 
We drove into the dense forest, following the dirt roads and Frank’s directions. I watched as Perco lifted his arm pointing left, my eyes followed. 
My heart dropped as my eyes landed on the gruesome sight. 
There in the thick of the trees, was a clearing. 
Within the open space was a fence, lined with barbed wire. The tall barrier loomed over a muddy field. In the middle sat wooden huts and a bigger building sitting at the edge. Outside of the fence was a tall watch house. 
I knew from the first glance what this was. 
No, I knew from the smell. 
That was the first thing to hit me. The stench of sweet rotting flesh filled my senses, it felt as if it clung to everything, there was no way to escape it. The men around me screwed up their noses and flinched away from the foul scent, their attention finally captured. 
The chatter had died as soon as the camp came into view. From a glance around the bed I could tell a lot of the men were confused, unsure of what they were looking at. Just like Frank; they were unable to put into words exactly what they were seeing.       
Within the confines of the barrier stood people. Well, they didn’t look exactly like people. I could see, even from a distance, their bodies were unfed and unwashed. 
The trucks stopped, the men slowly disembarking. It was silent, as they all tried to understand what exactly they were looking at. 
I jumped out immediately walking closer to the barrier. There were two fences. A perimeter between the two, enough for people to walk in. A body lay between the two barriers, gaunt and lifeless. 
The men inside the gate all wore the same sets of clothes, blue striped pyjamas. I swallowed the lump in my throat, tears already brimming in my eyes. 
It was one thing to learn about in school, but another to see it in real life. It all but consumed me. 
Everyone else still had no idea what this really was. Eyes all filled with questions and horror. 
Winters slowly approached the gate. The men inside stood waiting. I wonder if they knew if we were good or bad, but they didn’t run. They gathered around looking back at us as we looked in on them. 
There were no women, no children, only men inside. But they didn’t look like it. They all appeared pale and lifeless, only skin and bone, barely moving. 
The men opened the gate as everyone gathered in front of the opening. 
“Major, sir?” Christenson questioned, asking if he should proceed in opening the next gate. The gate that would allow these people to be free of their confines, and allow us to enter their decimated prison. 
“Open it up.” Winters commanded. The men nodded their heads, cutting off the chain that secured the compound closed.   
“Stand back, back it up, back, back.” Christenson commanded the prisoners as he tried to swing open the gate. 
They stepped back revealing smoking huts and even more men, ones who didn’t seem strong enough to approach the barrier. 
I couldn’t hold back my tears as they slipped down my face. I looked from person to person I could see the torture they had endured etched into their features, but I’m sure that was only a second. Only a small glimpse into the years of horror they had to live through. 
How many people did they have to watch die, family, friends, peers. Wondering if they were next or secretly praying that someone would just end their pain.
I wonder how long they were kept in these cages like animals waiting for their slaughter? 
How could people be so cruel to their own kind? 
We moved forward slowly as a group, the prisoners watched us, they looked apprehensive for a moment before they all seemed to realise we were not the enemy. 
They moved forwards, hands reaching out grabbing at the soldiers who walked in. I felt the sleeves of my shirt being tugged glancing to the side to find the men holding tightly onto me. 
“I’m sorry.” Was all I could manage, they didn’t even understand what I was saying but I just wanted them to know how awful I felt. 
A man reached for me embracing me in his arms, I held him back. I could feel under the material of his clothes, his thin frame, I could feel every rib and bone as I hugged him. 
He sobbed into my shoulder whispering in German, I didn’t understand what exactly he was saying but it sounded like he was thanking us. 
“Liebgott, Liebgott!” Winters called from the front of the group. My heart stopped. Lieb, my best friend, my rock. He had no idea his own people were one of the main targets in Hitlers regime.
I watched Lipton move back through the crowd yelling Lieb’s name. Joe and Don stood guard just outside the gate, guns in hand. 
Lipton brought him back through the crowd. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, he glanced over to find my gaze. 
Joe tilted his head, without words he was asking me if I was alright. I weakly nodded my head still wrapping my arms around the German man who wept into my shoulder. 
There was no way I could stop Lieb from finding out, and it would break him. All I could do was be there for my friend. 
Lipton spurred the men into action, instructing the men to give these people rations, blankets, food and water anything we could spare. 
The man holding me stepped back collapsing to the floor, I glanced around looking for water. 
“Water, can I get some water over here!” I yelled, Babe moved quickly holding out a canteen for me to take. 
I unscrewed the lid, pouring water into the man’s mouth. He was exhausted, as if he was holding on to the last of his strength until help came. When he knew he was safe he finally let go. 
I moved from person to person, tending to their ailments. But most of them I couldn't do much for, it wasn’t like they were actively bleeding out like all the other injuries I had become adjusted to. They were sick and starving. 
The only thing I could do was offer food and water. But each time I lifted my head the numbers grew, the more that gathered, the more ill they looked.  
A man approached me holding another in his arms. The man in his arms looked so weak, nothing to him but skin and bone, so pale he was almost translucent. 
The prisoner holding the man spoke quickly in German, his eyes pleading with me to help. I held out my arms as he passed over the very ill man. 
I let out a gasp as he was placed in my arms, he weighed almost nothing, I could feel every piece of him under my fingertips. 
I knelt to the ground holding the German man in my lap, trying to figure out what I could do to help him.  
“How can I help you?” I muttered under my breath. 
“Sing bitte für mich.” The man that lay in my arms said. I tilted my head listening to his whispered words. 
“Lieb!” I called, he rushed over kneeling next to me. 
“Sing bitte für mich.” The man repeated himself. 
“He wants you to sing for him.” Lieb said softly. I nodded at the man, if that's what he wanted I would do anything. 
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey.” I sang quietly to the dying man, the song my mother used to sing as a lullaby to me. 
“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.” The man reached his hand up cupping my face as I sang for him. A tear slipped down my cheek. Lieb sat close and watched us. His own eyes glistened. 
“The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms.” The man smiled at me, more tears falling down my cheeks as I held him in my arms. 
“When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head and cried.” The man brushed away my tears, as his hand fell back down to his side. His breathing faded. 
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” A sob left me as the man stared up at the sky. 
I let go of his hand, resting it by his side. I moved from underneath him, lying him gently on the floor. 
Joe encased me in his arms as I sobbed into his chest. He pulled away, I looked up to find Don standing over us. He opened his arms for me, I stood from my position on the floor and moved into his embrace. His hand ran down my back as I cried. 
We pulled apart, Lieb had gone and gotten a blanket. He gave it to me to lay over the man. I bent down, closing his eyes to make him at peace and gently placed the blanket over his body. 
“I’m so sorry.” I whispered as I stood again. I wiped my tears away.  
Lieb was called away to translate, as Don and I moved around the camp, trying our best to help the men who came to us. 
We stuck close to each other not wanting to stray from the other’s side. 
I kept glancing over my shoulder to find Lieb with the officers and one of the German men. He was translating for them. I was just waiting for the bomb to be dropped, the truth to be revealed. 
“Everything ok?” Don asked, I shook my head. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked, coming closer. 
“Don, this camp. These aren’t prisoners of war.” I started, unsure of how I was going to explain this to him. His brows furrowed as he listened. 
“These people are innocent. They were dragged from their homes, away from their families. The only thing they have in common is that they are different.” There were so many groups here, but anyone who was ‘imperfect’ or ‘different’ was casted out. 
“What do you mean?” Don couldn’t understand that these people did nothing wrong. I’m sure his mind went to why would they lock these people up if they were innocent?
“Jews, Poles, Roma, musicians, people with disabilities, people of colour, this is who they have captured. And this isn’t the only one! There are thousands of these camps, some far worse than this. Don, Hilter wants a superior race, anyone who doesn’t fit that bill he’s exterminating.” Don couldn’t stop the horror in his eyes as he realised my words. 
“You’re saying there are more of these camps? That more people are in this condition?” Don asked, his eyes flicking around our surroundings imaging more of these exact situations. 
“They split up the families, women and children together and then the men together. These camps cover all of Germany and some other countries as well.” I explained the best I could to Don, who didn’t look like he was able to wrap his head around the information spilling from my lips. 
“Wait, how do you know this?” He asked his brows furrowed together as he glanced over at me. 
I bit my tongue, this wasn’t the time to expose my true self, all of this was too much in itself. 
“The nurses have been talking about it, I didn’t quite believe it till now.” I lied through my teeth, but Don didn’t notice, he was too wrapped up in the scene playing before us. 
“What are we going to do?” He asked, his sweet eyes full of sorrow as he looked over each person that walked in front of us.  
“I don’t know?” I answered honestly, as I stared off into the distance.   
I again glanced over to Lieb who was translating for the officers. Each man with their own look of horror and shock on their face. I bit my lip, waiting and watching. 
“Juden, Juden.” The prisoner they were talking to repeated. I didn’t need to be translated, I could see it clearly on Joe’s face what the man had said. 
“They’re Jews.” Lieb uttered, in his own disbelief and rage. Lieb was a loyal man. This camp, this attack, was on his own people, his family. 
“Lieb knows.” I told Don who was giving water to a man. I wanted to run over and hug him, but he was keeping his composure, still translating for the officers. So I turned my back and helped the men who gathered before me.  
The further we walked into the camp the more awful it became. The huts the men were living in were burned down to the foundations, burnt skeletons still resided in the ash and rubble. 
“Jesus Christ!” Don muttered covering his face with a piece of fabric, the smell was so strong it almost made it unbearable to breathe. 
“Look at their arms.” Don pointed out two men who lay still in the ruins. Numbers etched into the flesh on their wrists. 
“Like cattle.” Babe shook his head. We walked in silence through it all.  
We helped as much as we could, going into the huts and bringing people out. Each time I stepped inside, my heart clenched and cracked, it was tearing me up. 
The tears had stopped long ago, there was nothing more left to cry. I just needed to help, I think at some point I switched off, just to maintain some sanity, because before I knew it we were back in the beds of the trucks.
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quinloki · 1 month
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Canon Characters vs OC vs x Reader
Disclaimer: This is just my two cents, and my perspective on things, and I'm not trying to lay down the law for everyone. I needed to just put this to words though, in order to sleep.
I was thinking about this because of a post I saw, and some, we'll say, kind of useless comments associated with the post. Mean-spirited stuff.
Normally, in one ear and out the other, but the vibes just kicked me off down a rabbit hole of sorts an I wanted to try to put some of my thoughts to words.
First, some style vibes:
Canon x Canon Canon/Canon stories are, to me, like reading an episode of that show. I'm sitting down in front of a TV or whatever, and I'm experiencing the story As A Viewer. I like this style because I don't really have to expend much energy and I just kind of roll with whatever's happening. Generally some sort of 3rd person perspective.
OC x canon OC/Canon stories are like being on a carnival ride. I'm sitting in a car on a roller-coaster, and maybe the OC is sitting next me. I'm experiencing the story more deeply than strictly canon stories, but my connection with the OC is no deeper than say, my connection with Katniss Everdeen when I read The Hunger Games. Sometimes 3rd person, sometimes first person.
Reader x canon Reader/Canon (or Reader x/ OC) is like putting on a VR helmet. I don't get much physical input about the "Reader OC" because I'm experiencing the story through their eyes. I don't expect the reader to be me, but there's a bigger feeling of immersion to be had. Some description might happen cause it's relevant to the story, and it's still a type of ride, I can't jump the rails on the roller coaster, after all. (Even with a VN you still follow the tracks). Sometimes first person, sometimes second person (I'm partial to 2nd person perspective, but that's just me).
I love Fan Fiction, I love it. All of it, and man even more than anything, what I love is that I'm going to dislike 80% of it. Because that 80% was written for someone who is not me. (Hell, that number's probably closer to 99% if we're looking at ALL fandoms, but I digress).
Second - The VENT:
What got me the most in the post that prompted this, was someone saying "Bring back the Mary Sue OCs!" and then they went on to describe something more detailed, and I just -
Look, respectfully, fuck you.
The point is, you're not going to be happy no matter what. Whether it's "mary sue" OCs, or x readers, or alternative universes, or a ship you don't like, you're going to find something to be unhappy about.
Cause people have been bitching about all styles of fan fiction since the first "You've Got Mail" chimed in 1991. And until 1998 and ff.net you really had to hunt for it, and until 2007 and Ao3 the idea of tagging a fic for any reason wasn't really a thing. Every click was a surprise! \o/
I just have seen the same song and dance a dozen times. It's exhausting. People become okay with OCs and decide x readers are the enemy, and before that OCs were *all* Mary Sues and cringe and people who made OCs were the enemy, and before OCs people who wrote even a little OOC were the enemy, and people who wrote AUs were the enemy, and you can write fan fic but it HAS to be Canon Compliant, and everyone MUST be in-character at all times - "They would not fucking say that" was the enemy.
Look, just please - please - in any capacity, stop it with the "All X style of story telling is crap" mindset. There's over a dozen different ways to do x readers alone. I know 20 x reader writers and I don't think any of us have the same style, preferences, or vibes.
I've had a lot of comments along the lines of "I thought I hated x readers, but I really loved this." on a few different fics I've written. Sometimes it's not the style of the fic, sometimes it's the style of the writer, and my Brother In Christ - you're going to have to read some awful shit to shuffle through the thousands of writers out there to find the vibes that resonate with you.
Ostracizing entire swathes of fan fic because you need something to be "The Enemy" so you can lift up something else, and then bitching you can't find anything new to read seems like a personal problem.
And I know y'all are scrolling by TONS of posts that don't interest you, every day, as a matter of course. So don't give me that "clogging up the tag" BS, because we deserve to be here same as anyone else in the fandom.
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