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#bad luck and a broken clock
did-i-do-this-write · 8 months
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What is your most popular fic?
After three years of writing for this fandom, my most popular work is still Bad Luck and a Broken Clock, which is my first longfic and was written in a mid-pandemic delirium to cope with being trapped indoors.
When I wrote it, I knew that it would eventually make me cringe. It does now, but not for the reasons I predicted :)
Thank you for asking Sleepy friend ☺️
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This ask motivated me to write 149 words for Home is Where Your Light Shines Brightest.
Experiment Total: 73,285
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zacs-of-rwby · 2 years
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Day 5: Dancing/Sparring
You Shine Brighter Than the Stars
Summary: Oz and Qrow arrive at the gala hoping to make the best of it.  Oz isn’t so sure that’s possible at an event like this.  Qrow does his best to change his mind.
Author’s Note: I had the absolute pleasure of collabing once again with my amazingly talented friend @otterdoesart for this @ozqrowweek prompt!!!  We brought everything full circle, doing a second chapter to our collab from last year XD he asked me to post his art on his behalf, so you can find the piece here!  You should check it out, it’s incredible!
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konaharts · 1 month
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RadioStatic Week 2024
First Meeting
[I'm probably not going to do all the days due to work, but I wanted to draw at least this one!
I know they most likely met while Vox was building a video/tv empire in Hell, but I couldn't get this one scenario out of my head of Alastor finding Vox shortly after he arrives in Hell. Enjoy this mini-fic I wrote about it!]
The sinner was scrawny, a picture box laying on his shoulders, the glass having been broken in by the demons Alastor had just chased away. What looked like a face occasionally flashed on the screen.
The Radio Host's eyes scrunched up in disgust, his very personal feelings and opinions about televisions flooding into him. He should have passed on by.
Whoever this sinner was, he was possibly one of the most pathetic-looking sinners Alastor had ever laid his eyes upon.
Even so, a sinner down on his luck was another opportunity for a deal and another avenue to grow his power.
"My, my. You look like you've seen better days! Welcome to Hell, my good fellow!"
At the sound of the Radio Demon's voice, the newest arrival to Hell turned his head, the broken screen flashing, occasionally illuminating Alastor's face. A distorted, filtered voice with uneven volume emanates from the picture box, words occasionally repeating and stuttering due to the damage.
"H-H-Hell? W-W-Wał₮…I. I. I. I. Kn-Know th-th-₮Ⱨ₳₮ voł₵Ɇ."
Alastor paused.
"Oh?"
"A-A-Al₳₴₮ØⱤ ████████. ₣ⱤØ₥ ₮ⱧɆ ███ ███████ RadĐłØ ₴ⱧØ₩. I-I-It's beɆ₦ ɎɆ₳Ɽ₴, b-b-but I re₵Ø₲₦łⱫɆ th₳₮ vØł₵Ɇ."
This was unexpected. With the wave of his cane, Alastor's powers begin to turn the clock on the sinner's face, repairing it, piece by piece.
"You've heard of me?"
"Ⱨ₳ve I?" The last bit of machinery and glass push themselves in, the cracks instantly healing. A flash, and a now-complete face graces the screen. The distorted voice disappears, replaced by the voice of an enthusiastic man with a filter similar to Alastor's own. "Why, you're my inspiration!" The sinner's face beams with excitement.
Finally, some proper recognition in this hellhole. Alastor's grin turns into a wide smile. Dare he say, genuine, for once?
"Well, well, well! What a surprise! It's not everyday I come across someone who's heard of me before falling into the pits of Hell! Tell me,"
Alastor helps up the television man and straightens his antenna.
"What do they call you, ol' chum?"
The sinner hesitates. No doubt someone or something had informed him about how sinners tend to change their names upon arriving in Hell.
"…Vox."
A peculiar name.
"Well, Voxy, I know a place with the best drinks this side of town! Let's have a chat and get you settled in, hm?"
With an arm around his shoulder, Alastor leads Vox away. Despite his reservations with the...asset...Hell had so graciously gifted this poor soul as a head, maybe having someone with knowledge about television that he could manipulate wouldn't be so bad.
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
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Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.2
[Pt.1]
Peter’s no stranger to memories that comes as nightmares. There’s something different to them, the taste of terror that’s tinged with a feeling of “that’s happened.”
Flashes of Aunt May, dying as he stood next to her while choosing the city over her? Old hat. Inky darkness surrounding MJ falling as Peter reached for her, over and over again? Been there, seen that, didn’t even get a sick scar out of it. Racing against the clock to defeat some bad guy or an unknown threat? That’s his Thursday.
But this?
This isn’t his. It’s real, Peter could tell that much. Sure, it’s wrapped up in silk hisses and heart crushing terror, but Peter could always tell whether a nightmare was a nightmare or whether it was a memory.
This was a memory. Not his. His. It’s complicated.
“Your father, papito, he-,”
Then, it’d be the ruffle of his hair, brown eyes. It reminded him of his mom. But the crease of these eyes were different. Hardened, mean. Even towards him.
“Well, he said no, but I knew what he really wanted.”
The base of Peter’s neck always crawled when he remembered that line. His spider-sense warned him that whatever he’s remembering, he would not like.
“Ey, Peter.”
“Huh?” Peter blinked, looking up from where his arms were elbow deep in wires.
“Don’cha need gloves with that?” Frank asked, munching on some jerky. They were sitting in the living room, repairing a TV and a washer Frank had somehow managed to lug back to the apartment. It’s a toss up between Frank’s network of orphans (Peter included), street rats (these things are not mutually inclusive), or his own slightly higher than average strength. Not that they needed to thrift broken things, considering Peter’s funneling money from offshore bank accounts belonging to this America’s 1%. They just made it so easy! He and Ned had been hacking into government bases in middle school back on his world. This world? Not even a challenge. Regardless, this was kind of like… Frank’s version of those fancy sensory boxes for Peter.
“Oh, no. It’s not plugged in, see?”
“How’re ya gunna know it works then?”
“Plug it in after I’m done. Turn it off and on, you know?”
Frank stared at him, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
“If you burn down that portion of the house, at least we’ll be warm for a bit.”
“Thanks. Your confidence in me is astounding.”
“You talk like an old man.”
“I do not! Excuse you! If I’m old, you’re the expired knock off cup ramen in the back of a convenience store!”
“Yo, shrimpy, that’s rude, ya hear?” Frank snickered, impressed at the quip. The Alley kid turned brother stood up to plop next to Peter.
“So… you gonna go…?” Frank made a whooshing sound and held his hand in a web shooter position.
“Tonight? Prolly. Anything I should look out for?”
“You’re gunna get yourself killed, but yeah, heard the gang’s back up north.”
Peter flashed a smile, dimples coming out. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Frank.”
“Anytime, Spidey.”
Frank, though little (to Peter), was a good friend. Then again, considering Peter saved his ass both in mask and out of it, it’s to be expected. One would think that after eight years of hiding his identity, Peter would be better at it. Then, he got punted into a different world and got made by a child.
To be fair, the circumstances all but screamed Parker Luck, so Peter’s not counting this instance.
See, the first few days of this sudden cohabitation, Peter had asked Frank to find them furniture. Both because he was getting real sick of eating on the floor and because Peter needed to fix his suit to match his much younger body. Then, once he readjusted the shrinking nanotech and the spider legs to fit him in a way that wouldn’t break him, Peter had promptly swung out of the building and went patrolling. He stuck with the wandering Frank, taking out muggers and robbers and everything in between and past that around the area where Frank is.
Looking back, Peter realized how lucky he was when he decided to go on the “helping joyride” at the beginning of the evening. His spider-sense activated way later in the night, the moment where he began seeing and sensing the cameras that kept pointing towards him. He ducked and dodged out of the way, and eventually, the feeling left. Somebody was watching. And he doesn’t know where they stood on the moral side of things.
Anyways, it happened after three weeks and a half of going out and just… settling into life in Gotham. He had already been struggling to find a way home, scouring the libraries around Gotham on any subject that would aid in his multiversal travel. Peter would like to know which emo kid named this city.
Eventually, Parker Luck decided to strike once more.
“Get back, freak!” The lady brandished a wicked knife.
Talk about deja vu.
“Oh no! Knives! My greatest weakness!” Spider-Man yelled, sticking to the shadowed windows as he let his voice echo in the alley. Gotham had a lot of nice hiding places. Spider-man dropped down on her head like a bat out of hell and webbed the knife out of her hands. He webbed the mugger up onto the alleyway above normal reach, and told the man to call the police.
Frank screamed, just as Spider-man wrapped it up, loud enough to reach his enhanced hearing.
“Wait-!” The man tried to stop him, but Peter, small, trained, and having readjusted his reach, slipped away.
“What’s your name?!” The guy he saved yelled at his back.
Spider-man, distracted, yelled back, “SPIDEY!”
He shot webs upwards and used them to slingshot his way towards where Frank was. And… car! Peter used his webs to swing up, up, and let himself fall to gain momentum. At the last moment, Peter shot a web to the top of the car and pulled himself to it.
Shit, shit, shit. He’s stupidly attached to the kid, and he was stupid enough to let Frank go out into Gotham looking both well-fed and well clothed.
The world slowed as he locked eyes with a terrified Frank, who was getting dragged into a car.
The world narrowed to speed and Spider-Man landed on top of the car roof, sweeping his leg out and thankfully remembering his much shorter reach. His foot collided with the kidnapper’s face with the equivalent force of a grown up, slightly annoyed Peter Parker who’s letting his strength go a bit unchecked. Basically, they went flying, blood spewing out of the undoubtedly broken nose Spider-Man had just given them.
Standing on business, the shorter webster promptly flipped down wards as he all but glued the would-be kidnapper to the curb.
“You alright?”
“You’re- You’re that new mask.” Frank whispered, scuttling away from the car where he’d been dropped.
“Yeah, man. You okay?” His voice modulator came in clutch.
“Fuck. Fuck, I gotta-” Frank stumbled. The kid looked like he was one bad break away from snapping. Peter hated it when kids got that terrified look on their faces, it reminded him of himself, helpless as Ben bled out because they should never have to fear something that much.
Something’s wrong, though. As much as Peter wished otherwise, Frank was a Gotham bred and true alley kid, through and through. These kids don’t spook easily. Peter already stopped a couple of kidnappings and at least two of the kids had yelled at him to stay out of the way before unloading a rain of nut kicks on their kidnappers that left Peter wincing for days in sympathy. Frank being this spooked? Something’s going on.
“Woah, easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you,”
Frank shot him a half hysterical, half condescending look. Yeah, that’s more like it.
“Ob-obviously. I have to go before more of them comes,” Frank muttered.
“More of them? You know what they want?”
Frank stared at him, looking up and down at his blue, red, and gold ensemble.
“I can help,” Peter promised.
“What’re your thoughts on metas?”
Suspicious.
“Uh, they’re fine? Depends on the person, why?”
Frank sighed. The skinny teenager, barely 14, tugged at his hair. “They’re traffickers. Meta kids, mostly, so the Bats don’t do nothing. I- uh, I got caught.” He held up a thin wrist, showing Peter his new accessorie, a think metal bracelet that was beeping red.
Peter cursed in his head. Fuck, of course he’d stumble into a-
“Caught? You’re a meta?”
Frank nodded. “Strength. This is an inhibitor, illegal kind, you know?”
Well, that explained how he got all of those furniture without struggle.
“Right. Hey, don’t stress, kid, I’m a meta too.”
Frank blinked.
“What?”
Peter walked up the side of the car and did jazz hands.
“You’re a meta?! But- but you’re a mask operating in Gotham!”
“Yeah…? Is that weird?”
Before Frank could reply, Peter’s sense screamed and Spider-Man shoved Frank away from the spray of bullets.
“Move, Frank!”
Peter flipped away, vaguely aware of Frank’s gaping realization. He took down the shooters in quick succession, stopping the speeding car with his bare hands and some webs.
“Shooters, no shooting!” He yelled, liberally applying force he tended to keep under wraps. Frank was like a brother to him, and there is no universe where Peter Parker would hold back when his family was in danger.
When he got back to Frank, who had oddly stayed instead of running, Peter found out why the kid stayed.
“Peter?!” Frank hissed lowly, looking more pissed off than terrified. “Are you fucking insane?! Why are you running ‘round as a mask?!”
“Shhh!” Shit, he got made. “Come on, get back to the apartment and we can talk there. I’ll get rid of this-”
Peter casually snapped the bracelet in half, tearing the tracker out, and tucked it away to study later.
“Fuckin’- shit, fine, but you’re explaining everything, motherfucker!”
They split, Peter guessing correctly that he was in another lecture of a lifetime.
——
“Your vigilante name is Spiderman?”
“Hey, I can hear you say it without the hyphen! There’s a hyphen in there!”
“You’re not a man! You’re a twerp!”
“I’ll show you twerp, you-”
Five minutes of tussling later, in which Peter did not try to bite Frank’s arm off, thank you very much, Frank leaned back on the couch.
“Besides. People in the streets are calling you Spidey, anyways.”
“Spidey?”
“Some dude you saved from a mugging said you told him.”
Peter slammed his head on the floor where he was laying face down.
“Ughhhh.”
——
“He could have been great. I saw his potential.”
Anger. But he shouldn’t be afraid. The woman loved him.
“Hey, Peter. You’re up here again.”
“Hi.” Peter stayed curled up. His mind had refused him sleep for the last three nights, causing dark circles to appear underneath his eyes. The memories of what he assumed to be this world’s Peter was merging with his. What he’d seen so far did not fill him with confidence of a happy childhood. Flashes of wielding weapons, the sterile smell of a metal dissection table, and hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling over him, getting startled into biting down. Plus, the stress of tracking down the meta trafficking circles in Gotham was no joke. He doesn’t know Gotham nearly as well as he knew New York, and he had to be extra careful running around and trying to catch every bit of the circle before making any moves. Frank was helping with his network of homeless Meta kids, but the traffickers were everywhere except for Crime Alley.
He should be dead. They sold his body to an organ harvester who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version.
“Everything all right?” Red Robin clambered down to sit next to him, cowl hiding the concerned scrunch of his brow. He’s never seen Peter like this.
Peter grumbled, staring down at another alleyway. He knows his alternate died. His shit excuse for another sold his body to an organ harvester, when he seized on the operating table, who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version. He does, however, have to worry about missing vital organs.
“I… remembered something.” Peter remembered a lot of things. And pretty much none of them were good. This Peter suffered a lot in his short life.
Red Robin nodded. The issue of Peter’s spotty memories had come up in their discussions over the past month.
“Ah. Something unpleasant?”
Peter thought back to the voice who, despite all of the other, highly traumatic memories, haunted his brain like nothing else.
“He didn’t live up to it. He refused to kill. So I made the decision for him.”
“Yeah. Not for me, but unpleasant that I know about it.”
“Yeah, I get that. You wanna talk about it?” Peter hid a small smile. Even though Red Robin kept his tone light, the concern still bled through. Warm. It made Peter feel warm. Even if it appeared that the Bats don’t really care about the trafficked meta kids… maybe Red Robin would come save normal kid Peter if he got kidnapped. A backup plan to consider. For now…
“Sure,” he said. Red Robin waited patiently.
“I think, I remember someone. Maybe, maybe my…” Peter grimaced. “My mom? She… told me something. And uh, I think I’maproductofrape.”
“Oh,” Red Robin said, so awkwardly that Peter had to crack a small smile despite the gravity of the topic. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too. Not myself, but for…” Peter waved a hand. “You know.”
“Yeah.”
“She wasn’t a good person,” Peter whispered and hated how he missed the browns of her eyes- her middle name was Marie, and god, Peter wished he hadn’t known that because he gets why her eyes reminded him so much of his own mother- and she besmirched everything Mary Parker stood for.
“You have our combined potential, Peter. Make sure not to be like him too much and live up to it, papito.”
“It’s okay, to love her even if she hurt other people,” Red Robin said, gently ruffling his greasy hair. Peter’s spidey-sense tingled and he ducked away. Red Robin withdrew his hand. “Because you can’t really help that. Trust me, I’ve tried. You just have to make sure they don’t get the chance to do what they did again.”
Cold, cold voices and his voice gave out from screaming. “You really are your father’s son. Never being able to do what’s necessary.”
And Peter wondered what happened to Red Robin and who hurt him. Peter would just like to talk. Red Robin reminded him of himself, way back when being Spider-Man meant finding out Harry became Green Goblin. Pained. Tired.
“Yeah,” Peter agreed. But that’s not really a problem, considering the last thing the organ harvester said before dumping him in an alley. “She’s dead in a ditch in Siberia or something. I’m not really worried she’ll do it again.”
“Uh.”
“It’s cool,”
“Right. Have you… remembered your dad?”
“Yeah. He’s in Gotham,” Peter unfurled a little.
“You want help tracking him down? I’m good at that kind of thing.”
Peter glanced at Red Robin. “I think you just admitted to being a stalker.”
“Vigilante,” Red Robin shrugged, like it explained everything. And yeah, it kind of did. Peter snorted.
“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to meet him anyways.”
“Why not?”
“He doesn’t know about me,” Peter ticked off his fingers. “I’m a literal walking, talking, breathing reminder of his trauma. And I don’t need a dad.”
Red Robin looked at him silently. Peter doesn’t think about it.
He never wanted to see his parents suffer. An alternate version of his dad, hurt so irrevocably by an alternate version of his mom?
Peter hated that this Catalina dirtied his mother’s name, and went against the most fundamental parts of what the spider symbol was meant for. And considering he’s been doing this longer than her, he had first dibs on defining it. He’ll look after his dad, as long as he’s stuck in Gotham. It’s only right.
“His name? Oh, my son, it’s Richard Grayson.”
——
Peter, who Trusts his instincts: no head rubs?? awwwww
Tim, who’s been trying to get a dna sample for the last month: how does he keep evading me?? He must be a genius or a spy or- *spirals down the conspiracy board*
——
Tim: I’ve connected the dots!
Peter: you’ve connected jack shit
——
Listen, the moment I learned Catalina Flores’ middle name, the pieces clicked, okay? Like legos. It’s like, former FBI agent in this one and former CIA agent in Peter’s home universe? Wow. Middle name Marie? Mary Parker? Incredible. Spider themes run in the blood apparently?? They both have brown eyes!! Trying to do good with no qualms about murder!! (I’m assuming since Mary Parker was SHIELD and I don’t think SHIELD cared much for the sanctity of human life if it threatened the country or something)
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crepesuzette2023 · 21 days
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Hi, I would love recs for mclennon fics dripping in sexual tension, like six hours in August by stonedlennon. It doesn't need to have explicit sexual content. Thank you!
Thank you so, so much for this ask—this is a category of fiction I personally enjoy *a lot* (imagine Paul's "I slept with John..." pronunciation).
Here are some favorites that came to my mind. Some have sex on the page, others do not; I remember all of these as having excellent Tension™. I hope you find something you like here! Young J/P:
Streets of Your Town (@with-eyes-closed): Sensual. The upheaval in young Paul's mind as he falls in love with music and John, without putting a name to it. As of yet unfinished, but it's so good I rec it anyway, because it's...[read to find out, take a fan]
All I Know Since Yesterday (RedheadAmongWolves): Paul and John's first kiss at Paul's, after long, sweet hours of trembling fear/excitement. Paul POV.
The Way Things Sometimes Are (@paisanas): Young John is troubled and pining for Paul. Paul is mesmerizing through his eyes.
now and then (there's a fool such as I) (@stonedlennon): The Nerk Twins take the bus to Caversham and share a bed. You can smell the summer grass and the sweaty leathers...
(Ain't no cure for the) summertime blues (orphan_account): John and Paul alone on a hot summer day.
The Photograph (thinkpink20): John finds a Photograph Mike took of Paul and notices...things.
Hamburg:
ageless children, animal sweat (eyeball2eyeball): Read this story to spend time in John's throbbing, unhinged Hamburg mind. No sex on the page, and yet. It's *everywhere*. For such a short story, it takes up a lot of room in my brain. The Paul in this story is one of my favorite Pauls.
Sinful City (thinkpink20). Days and Nights in Hamburg. Paul needs John, and stops questioning things.
In Margaret Asher's music room:
Tell You Something (@louiselux). Lennon and McCartney write "I Want to Hold Your Hand." The tension rises.
In or near Paul's Geodesic Dome:
shotgunning (@pauls1967moustache): John and Paul languidly try something new...
Chrysalis (cloudy_blue): Tension in 1967. Hypnotic and stylish, I love it.
Stop all the Clocks (@javelinbk): After Brian's death, John and Paul retreat to Scotland. Grief and awakening ensue...slowly and sweetly.
Greece:
Way Up Top (@boshemians). Snapshots of J/P desire and spiraling doubts, contained in the Beatles' trip to Greece to buy an island.
Nineteen Sixty-Eight:
Outro (bakerstreetafternoon). From the Summary: 'Had it been this tension that had kept them together? Had it always?'
Bad Luck to Talk (7intheevening): Paul chats with JohnandYoko at a party and follows them home for a cup of tea. What hurts more exquisitly than pining? Unacknowledged pining.
John I'm Only Dancing (@skylikeaflame): Amidst the insanity of the Mad Day Out, desire erupts relentlessly.
The 70's as they should have been:
Down on the Farm (RosalindBeatrice): Incredibly hot and realistic (and funny in just right amounts!). John visits Paul in Nashville; Paul shows off Wings and the family, John stays the night. Dot dot dot.
I can only speak my mind (@paisanas): John's diaries are leaked to the press and printed; Paul reads them. What follows is the sexual awakening of James Paul McCartney as he reads of John's feelings for him. First rate pining, past and present.
I still miss someone/ I know that I miss you, but I don't know where I stand/ close the door lightly when you go (RosalindBeatrice): John and Paul meet in 1976. There is a spark. Few and far between meetings follow.
The Other Eighties (John lives and experiences sexual tension with Paul):
and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) (wardo wedidit): John divorces Yoko and visits Paul in Scotland. Soul searching and relationship mending.
The Birthday Party (@merseydreams): John and Paul meet at Ringo's Birthday Party. There is only one bed.
Tension through the Years:
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes (@savageandwise). John is turned on by Paul smoking. 1958—1969.
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artemis-pendragon · 1 year
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Just a few of my favorite quotes from Goncharov (1973) that I think need more love and appreciation:
"If I could stop time but still feel your heart beating, then time would stand still forever."
"What's your poison?" "Whatever you're having, darling." (Aka that line in THEE cocktail scene)
"I'll stay with you tonight, if you'll have me." "I wouldn't have anyone else."
"When we got married, I drew this line between us and the world. You've crossed that line, and I can't go with you. You and I are, I think, finally out of time."
"Broken mirrors are bad luck, you know. That clock is silver-backed glass, and you can see yourself in its face. Is that not a mirror?" "If I were cursed, Sofia, then I would never have found you." "You could still lose me." "Never."
"Time is like blood, and I have spilled both."
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sunshine-theseus · 5 months
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Always The One | Sam Kerr x Reader
word count: 2.6k
summary: you have a huge fight but she’ll always be the one for you.
Warnings: angst, sorta some fluff?
I’m not sure if it was because I was tired from my shift, or the fact I’d waited at the restaurant for over an hour and my girlfriend hadn’t bothered to show, that had my crying in Jessie’s apartment at 9:03pm on a Thursday night.
Jessie Fleming was possibly the sweetest person to ever walk the earth, and my closest friend.
“Still nothing from her?” she asks softly from the kitchen.
I let out a slow hum, indicating Sam had seemingly not noticed her girlfriend of 3 years was missing from their shared apartment on such an important date. Then I quickly check my phone again to make sure I haven’t unknowingly shut it off or somehow just missed a text or call from the woman.
“Well, you still have a spare uniform you left here a couple months ago if you need it for your shift tomorrow. But now, we eat ice cream and watch Fantastic Mr Fox until you fall asleep.” She plops down on the couch next to me with a pitying smile gracing her face.
“Wait. Before we do that.” I grab my purse from beside my feet and pull out two small items.
“Are you kidding me?! You’re fucking joking, you’re pulling my leg. Are you serious!” She rushes out questions before snatching the items to get a closer look.
“These are really real!?”
I chuckle at her, trying to stop the tears that are forming behind my eyes.
Sam and I had begun the IVF process a few months ago after some encouragement from Katrina, Sam’s national teammate, and I’d missed my period a few days ago so I took a test. I thought it would be a nice surprise for our anniversary. That, and the small black band with a simple diamond that sat snug in a red velvet box in my bag for three months now. But obviously she didn’t show, and I wasn’t sure what to do now.
“Yeah… they’re real. I wanted to propose and show her the test tonight. But, well, you know.” I start crying again before I can stop myself, and I’ve fallen asleep not long after Jessie starts playing with my hair.
~~~~~~~~~
Work the next day did not help take my mind off the events of last night. Being a paramedic was obviously a difficult job, but I hadn’t had this amount of bad luck on a shift in a long time, and the calls just seemed to keep getting worse.
Our first call was an elderly lady whose grandson had accidentally pushed her down her front steps, she’d hit her head pretty hard, and her knee was dislocated but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t fix and get her help for at the hospital.
Later in the day we’d gotten called to a collision on the A3 motorway, 2 women and their daughter in one car and a drunk man in a large truck. One of the mums had passed away before we’d gotten there, the other fractured her clavicle and some ribs and had a broken leg. The daughter had been knocked unconscious, a broken nose and arm and a fractured C5 and C6. The man got out with barely a scratch.
That’s when I had to take a break and try to call Sam. Holding the hand of the woman and her daughter became harder when I pictured Sam and our daughter in their place.
She didn’t answer. That call or the 3 others I made before I clocked off at 6pm, uniform stained with blood.
I’d zoned out the whole drive home. I wasn’t even sure I was heading home until I’d pulled into the driveway.
I also didn’t notice the now filled space where Sam’s car sat, or the dirty Airforce 1s by the front door that were missing when I’d left yesterday morning (I’d gone straight from my shift to the restaurant), and I didn’t notice the figure slouched on the couch watching the AFL game she’d clearly missed during training today, a beer already in hand.
I went straight to the shower to wash off the blood and cry. Then I got changed into an oversized jumper and shorts, avoiding any of Sam’s jumpers I’d usually curl up in after a hard day, sat on our bed and cried some more.
I don’t get to cry for too long before the bedroom door slams open and Sam beings to yell.
“When the fuck were you going to tell me!?” I just groan in response and cover my ears with a spare pillow, but she grabs it and stands in front of me, forcing me to look at her and the pregnancy test she held tight in her hands. I’d fucking forgot to throw the other ones out.
“When were you planning on fucking telling me this round had worked hmm? That we’re going to have a baby!?” I look my girlfriend in the eyes for the first time in 2 days.
“Last night. At the restaurant. You know… for our anniversary?” and I know it’s sick, but I found joy in the way her face dropped and realisation appears behind her eyes.
“Fuck Y/N! I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry I forgot. How did I forget??”
“I don’t know how you forgot Sam. I sent you a text after you left for training. And another during my lunch break at work. And right as I was heading to the restaurant. And I called, got Jessie to remind you too, which I know she did. How the fuck did you forget Sam?” I get up from the bed and approach her.
“I don’t know, I got carried away hanging with Mills and Guro, but for fuck’s sake drop the attitude.”
Dro- drop the attitude!? She cannot be serious.
“What was that?”
“Drop the attitude Y/N. I’m sorry I forgot but the condescending tone is unnecessary, you’ve forgotten shit too.”
“Yeah! I have! Like if it’s my turn to cook dinner or if you have a physio appointment. Not a fucking anniversary Sam!”
“And this isn’t just about the anniversary anymore. I called you four times during work today and you didn’t pick up. You didn’t think calling four times during work meant I might really need to speak to you? Because when I held the hands of a little girl who had to say goodbye to one of her mum’s and the other mum who had to say goodbye to her wife all I could think of was you and you didn’t answer once. And then I see you for the first time in nearly 48 hours and the first thing you wanted to do was yell at me instead of calmly asking? It’s too much.”
I start running my hands through my hair and pacing around the room. This can’t be happening. What the fuck is happening here? Before I can think about much more, I grab my work bag and start packing a uniform and some clothes.
“Wh- what are you doing? Oh come on you’re not leaving over a silly argument.” We’d made our way to the front door by now.
“No! I’m not! I’m leaving because you can’t seem to see why I’m so fucking upset over any of this Sam. And the fact you got so ‘carried away hanging with Millie and Guro’ to forget your 3-year anniversary and just ignore all my calls. I was really excited to share the test with you, have a family, I’m not really sure what to do about that now. Oh, and here, was going to give this to you too.” I slam the small velvet box down on the counter by the door before grabbing my work boots and rushing to my car.
I hear the door slam behind me, but no footsteps follow, so I hop in and drive to Jessie’s apartment once again.
~~~~~
I’m laying between Jessie and Erin, the latter of whom Jessie had begged to come over to try and make me smile after I’d been crying non-stop, when there’s a banging on the door.
“Jessss! I know Y/n’s there please let me talk to her.” The familiar Australian accent makes me tear up again.
Erin gets up instead of Jessie and tells us she’ll handle Sam, send her away somehow.
3rd pov
Erin opens the door to a very dishevelled Sam Kerr, who’s eyes are red, hair a mess, having finally been let out of the low ponytail so she could run hands through it in a panic.
“Ez. What are you doing here? Where’s Jessie, and Y/n?”
“Sorry Sam, Y/n isn’t here. Jess ‘n’ I decided to have a sleepover so she can take me to training tomorrow because my car’s in the shop.”
“Erin come on I’m serious, she wouldn’t go anywhere else except here.”
“I’m sorry mate I haven’t heard from or seen her since our game against Man City when she had the day off.” Sam let’s out an angered sigh but accepts the idea that maybe her girlfriend had run off to one of the other girls, seeing as most of her friends were Sam’s teammates, either from Chelsea or The Matildas.
“Yeah ok, um, let me know if you hear anything yeah? I really need to talk to her.” Sam’s hand shakes as she pats Erin’s shoulder before turning away, getting back into her car to try Kyra’s or Ann-Katrin and Jess’, both friendships that seemed so unlikely to Sam, yet were some of her girlfriend’s closest friends.
1st pov
I let out a breath of relief when Erin returns to us without a certain striker trailing behind her.
“Maybe you should talk to her. She might fucking crash in the state she’s in.” the thought makes me feel bad for a moment, but she shouldn’t be allowed off that easily.
“No, she’s stupid but not that stupid. And she deserves to worry for a moment.” It was probably really mean, but I refuse to believe she doesn’t deserve a taste of her own medicine.
~~~~~
It takes me 2 more days of her calling before I start to really miss Sam, and decide to head back to our apartment just to see if she’s there, because Jessie told me how she hadn’t shown up to training on Yesterday and she wasn’t on the pitch as I watch Chelsea verse West Ham on Jessie’s tv.
As I walk through the door, the only thing I hear are the tiny meows of our cat Helen, who runs up to me to rub against my legs. I missed her.
But then I start to look around and realise what a mess the place is. Beer bottles are spread across every room and there are takeout containers that clearly hadn’t been put away since they arrived, sitting on the coffee table in the lounge room. I walk further down the hall but trip of some random pair of sneakers. No more than two steps after that, glass crunches under my boots and I frown when I see a photo of Sam with the FA Cup I had taken after their win last season. It was my favourite picture of her in her Chelsea kit.
“Sammy?! Where are you?” my voice echoes throughout the space as I creep towards the bedroom.
As I pry open the door, I’m met with a sight that both warms and squeezes my heart. Sam is covered in blankets, snoring softly. Her eyes are puffy and there are both fresh and old tear stains running down her cheeks. She looked strangely angelic, peaceful. Like the girl I’m in love with.
When I pull the blankets back, I see her hugging the teddy I got for her to take on international breaks when I couldn’t make it, doused in my perfume. I’d got it for her on our 6-month anniversary, and it didn’t take her long to buy me one for when she went away. The same one that is currently sitting on our windowsill, seeming very lonely.
She’s dressed in only a sports bra and some checkered boxers she’s been obsessed with sleeping in, but doesn’t seem to have changed in the past 2 days.
Her eyes blink open as I softly shake her away, but once she catches sight of me, she bolts up-right and scrambles to hug me.
“Hey Sammy.” I’m too tired to be angry at her anymore. I just miss her.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so so sorry I was so horrible to you. I don’t deserve to be forgiven but I’ll do anything to prove how sorry I am and how much I love you and this baby.” I then catch a glimpse of a ring, the ring, that is placed perfectly on her ring finger.
“Y- you’re wearing the ring?” and she doesn’t get a chance to reply before I’m kissing her.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you! I’m still mad at how you treated me.” I pull back to tell her before she can reciprocate the kiss.
She doesn’t meet my eyes but nods. “I’m so sorry, I love you so much and I want to show you that and show you how sorry I am.”
“I expect you to get me every single thing I crave in the next nine months and give me cuddles whenever I ask.”
Before she can I agree I add. “And that’s only for not letting me give me whole speech about how much I love you before I propose. There’s a lot more ground to cover for the other shit.” But I smile and kiss her again.
“I would have said yes before you could talk any way. Oh! And I have a surprise for you too. I was going to give it to you on our anniversary too.”
Sam gets up and rushes to the drawers, pulling out a familiar box.
“No fucking way were you going to propose on the same day.” She simply pulls out the ring and holds it out to me.
“Will you be my wife? If you say no I might actually drop dead.” I cry before anything else. But then I catch her looking at me expectantly and I just nod before hugging her tight.
“I can’t wait to have a family with you.” I whisper in her ear.
“I bags being the fun mumma!”
“Nooo way!”
“Yuh huh! You’re going to be the safety conscious one. You literally make me renew my first aid with you every single year. I’m definitely the fun one.” I groan but hug her tight. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“SAM I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU ONCE THIS THING IS OUT OF ME HOW DID YOU CONVINCE ME TO DO THIS!?” I couldn’t tell you how long I’ve been in labour by now, but I’m sure Sam’s hand was about to break and everyone in the building could hear me swearing my head off.
“You’re almost there chickee, just a few more pushes I promse.”
“You said that last time and it was not just a few more pushes!”
Before either of us can say anything else I’m pushing again, and 6 minutes later, a baby’s cries fill the room, and Maeve Wren Kerr-Y/l/n joined her twin sister Charlie May Kerr/Y/l/n in their mothers arms.
When I look over at Sam, she’s smiling adoringly down at Charlie, and I see a tear run down her face.
“You’re so beautiful.” I reach to grab her hand while Maeve sleeps in my arms.
I don’t think I could love anyone, or anything more than I love Sam. In 8 months when we get married, I’ll look her in the eyes as we say ‘I do’ and I’ll know she was always going to be it for me. She’ll always be the one.
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legendofmorons · 2 months
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The LU boys and superstitions
Once again, I was thinking about things I grew up with/ learned about and applying it to the boys. I might add the colors and dark link later, I just couldn't think of any for them rn
Tw: mentions death
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Fierce
Oh, he's so old he probably has a bunch he follows
He never leaves an empty rocking chair rocking.
He keeps any hanging horse shoes hung right side up (ends up so it's able to hold the luck)
Fierce also believes in wishing on shooting stars
First
Throwing salt over your left shoulder after you spill it
He will NOT wash clothes or clean things on new years day
Refuses to walk under ladders
Covering mirrors when someone dies in a building (stops them from becoming stuck in the mirror)
Four
Horseshoe hung up so the luck won't fall out
Breaking mirros is bad luck to him
He dosen’t have a whole lot, he thinks most wide spread superstitions are common sense
Hyrule
Ooooo boy
Faerie boy? He has some.
I think he's probably a summer /seelie fae so he probably has some superstitions around harvest time
Bottle trees keep away haints/ghosts/spirits
If your ear rings someone is talking about you
He HATES all horseshoes (iron is BAD for the fae), but if he must be near one, he would like it to be right side up
Legend
Breaking mirrors is bad luck
Rocking an empty rocking chair? No thanks, he's not inviting unknown spirits or death.
He keeps a mirror outside his house to keep away evil/the devil/ (demise??)
He eats black eyed peas on new years
He sweeps out the back door (never the front and NEVER when it's dark outside)
Will ward off evil with the three finger sign I always saw
Stays away from cross roads at night
Ravio
If you thought Legend had a bunch, Ravio has more
He has all of the one Leged has ofc
He also believes walking under ladders is bad
He covers mirrors AND stops clocks if someone passes away in his home
Holds his breathe while passing a grave yard
He always goes out the same door he came in through
He believes death comes in threes
He only walk beside his loved ones when going around a post never letting it go between them
Probably has many more
Sky
Not that superstitious actually. He tries to avoid breaking mirrors but not much else
Isn't a huge fan of black cats, but that's more because of nighttime remlits than anything
Time
By the end of his first adventure he has none
The superstitions he had believed were proven false over the years
Tries not to break mirrors but that's because he hates broken glass
Will participate in superstitions if someone he cares about asks. He knows it's out of love
Twilight
He dosen’t like empty rocking chairs that are rocking
He has a horseshoe hung up in his room to keep away bad dreams
Not too superstitious at heart, but so many people in his town are that it is basically habit for him
Warriors
Knocks on wood to keep from jinxing himself
Dosen’t gift knives to loved ones because he dosen’t want to sever the relationship
Wild
He remembers a few but isn't too superstitious
Likes four leaf clovers for luck though!
And he dosen’t clean on new years
Wind
He will knock on wood
He also likes to pick up a green rupee for luck! (Originally a penny)
He also probably wants a luck rabbit's foot
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octuscle · 10 months
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Hotel room - Hiviz
Actually, it was supposed to be a routine appointment for Luca and Giacomo. The two wanted to make a side trip to Prague from Vienna and quickly sign the new contracts with a supplier there. They wanted to be back in Vienna by dinner time. And the next day they were to return to Milan.
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But completely unexpectedly, there were delays in the signing. Their negotiating partners came with new demands. Instead of celebrating the deal over lunch, it became late evening until everyone agreed. And when Luca and Giacomo finally sat back in their rental car, it was already dark. And it began to thunder. And then the highway was closed. It was already almost 03:00 when Giacomo could no longer. Luca had been falling asleep in the passenger seat on and off for some time. And Giacomo's eyes also kept falling shut. Then he saw something on the side of the road that looked like a guesthouse. In the parking lot, there were small trucks, vans and pickups. That was certainly not their normal standard. But hell, he just had to sleep. It would take them another two hours to get to Vienna, even under good conditions. He wasn't going to make it.
Giacomo woke Luca, went to the entrance and rang the bell. After a few minutes, a sleepy man in an undershirt and underpants opened the door and presumably scolded them in Czech. Giacomo apologized in English for the disturbance and asked if they could have two more rooms. The man grumpily waved them in and replied in broken English that they were fully booked, but that two guests had actually left a few minutes ago. The room, of course, would not be made yet. But that would be the only thing he could offer the two. Giacomo didn't care about anything. He took the key and pulled Luca, who was sleeping standing up, up the stairs behind him.
The room was small, dirty and it smelled of sweat and cigarettes. But the two of them didn't care about anything. Since they were traveling without luggage, they undressed and lay naked on the unmade bed. Falling asleep, Giacomo still noticed that the sheet was crusted under him. Obviously, the last guest had jerked off here. No matter, the main thing is sleep, he thought to himself.
When the alarm clock rang at 5:00 a.m., he couldn't help but jerk off his enormous morning wood. Fuck, he had had pressure. He cum all over his upper body. For showering the two had no time. His colleague was already in the bathroom. Damn, when he went second shit, he always had to endure the stench of his pal. Bad luck. So he wiped off the sperm with the bed sheet and reached for his gear. He shouted to his colleague to hurry the hell up with the shitting. In half an hour they would have to be in the car. And before that he had to eat something urgently.
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Bojan and Dušan were in their first year of apprenticeship at the garbage collection. A dirty job. But one for real men. Besides, it was cool that they were allowed to stay at the guesthouse during the week. Away from home, just smoking, jerking off and having fun. Life could be worse!
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calisources · 1 day
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences on these meme make references to royal balls, medieval ballrooms or regency, basically set during any period drama. You can change names, pronouns, titles and more as you see fit. Most of these were taken from different source materials found via google search. This meme makes references to masquerades, royal dances and partners.
Dancing, at its best, is independence and intimacy in balance.
Dance is the timeless interpretation of life.
Music does not need language of words for it has movements of dance to do its translation.
Masks reveal. They don’t conceal. Masks reveal your cravings, your passion, your deepest most secret desires.
It was you. I know it was you.
Look at me, Kia! Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not her.
And who shall you be once you don your grand disguise?
I don't like to hear you talk about yourself that way. Your scars do not define you, young lady. Your action do.
All the ladies must dress the same and the men have to find their partners. It’s a game of sorts. 
Even the smallfolk have their own version of the ball, at the steps of the castle.
Swoon, Dora. Every young woman deserves to swoon over the love of her life.
Dash it, Everton, how'd you know it was me?
A masquerade could have been a beautiful dance. 
 Oh, well. What's a royal ball? After all, I suppose it would be frightfully dull, and-and-and boring, and-and completely... Completely wonderful.
Each finds a partner, and upon the bell, we must change partner until we find the one we came to be. . .or the one we desire.
It has been a while since you gave me the honor to dance with you.
If the princess is not too occupied, I would wish for a dance, perhaps?
The Queen and King have to open the ball but the King is gone. No mind, I shall be in his place.
Sometimes in life confusion tends to arise and only dialogue of dance seems to make sense.
If we want our men to dance, we have to inspire them. 
 But with something more, something bigger, something that will give them a reason to want to dance.
But when balls are held for pleasure, They're the balls that I like best.
Will you be my princess for the Ball?
Keeping pushing, Andrei, and you and I are going to play a game.
Nothing like a ball to cheer a nation, give the old lords wine and the young boys the opportunity to find a nice woman and everyone shows up.
Where are you taking me? The ball hasn’t ended.
Royals is like a beautiful, broken angel: hard to look at, but utterly impossible to turn away from.
Attend the royal ball in all your glory and find out what fate has in store for you.
How many dances is one allowed before people begin to whisper?
You cannot behave like a brute. It is my duty to dance with every suitor. I am their princess.
I do not recognize you, my lord? Are you from these lands? 
It is bad luck to steal a princess.
Attend the royal ball in all your glory and find out what fate has in store for you.
There is nothing quite like dancing in the moonlight. It sets your soul on fire and your heart aflutter.
The beauty of a ball is not just in its grandeur, but in the connections it sparks, the emotions it stirs, and the hopes it ignites.
Just keep your eyes on me. No one else here matters.
I shall keep dancing with you until you stop being stubborn and go speak with me. Or you rather have people whisper?
The princess looks beautiful tonight, does she not?
Father, please, you must dance as well. Your dull looks are making people bored.
You promised me a dance when you were better. Are you?
I've loved you at every dance, on every walk, every time we've been together and every time we've been apart.
I can feel people's eyes on me.
Every time I walk into a ballroom, I know they are comparing me to Daphne.
You both get to choose your passions and adventures, while my beloved is chosen by me. And now I must join them for a dance.
Are you planning on running away when the clock strikes midnight? 
If you do wish to go away, I know a spot, secluded enough.
You wish for me to go with you, alone, unchaperoned. I am a maiden, my lord. 
Aye, but I am no lord, sweet maiden. And these masks allow us some privacy.
This is my last chance to find a match on my own accord. If I don’t. The King will do it for me and I would rather not.
 I'm only a girl, not a princess.
Believe me - they're all looking at you.
 They're all looking at you.
You are requested and required to present yourself to your king.
 I do not even know if that beautiful slipper will fit But, if it does--will you take me as I am?
 It would be an insult to take you to the palace dressed in these old rags.
How charming, how perfectly charming.
When I go back, they will try to pair me off with a lady of their choosing. I'm expected to marry for advantage.
Oh. Well, whose advantage would this marriage be of?
I hope you don't find our kingdom too confining.
I am. An apprentice monarch. Still learning my trade.
Our prince seems quite taken with her.
She went straight for him. You have to appreciate her efficiency.
Walk into the room knowing you are the best. Shoulders back, chin up. Their attitudes will totally change.
You dance love, and you dance joy, and you dance dreams.
The ball is about to come to an end, and you have yet not told me your name. 
I thought we agreed we would remain strangers.
I’m afraid my true identity would put you in danger. 
Have you ever been kissed by a stranger at the end of a ball? If not, let me be the first.
Put him on all the invitation lists, he's a divine dancer.
I’m afraid I’m more used to swordfight than ballroom.
You will ruin your pretty gown, princess. I would not wish to step on your toes.
 Silly, I am a great dancer, no one ever steps on my toes.
No. Let them dance. Interrupting would cause a scandal.
One of these men will be my husband one day. What a thought.
The art of husband seeking at it’s peak, during royal ball season. 
Maiden beware, a gentleman can become a beast when the bell strikes.
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bugtastic · 11 months
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Please spill the modern au thoughts, I'm hungry for any takes of the characters in a happier setting
i had to edit this cuz i accidentally posted this without a check up first- anyways-
vash is my first victim. >:)
tags: fluff, a little bit of angst on vash's side, gn!reader.
warnings: none i think!
modern!vash, who is unemployed due to his reputation as the "humanoid typhoon". he causes disaster at every job he worked at. broken machines, gadgets, you name it. he was cursed out by his bosses many times. almost the whole city knows about him at this point.
"All you do is bring bad luck everywhere you go!"
modern!vash, who spends his time at your shared home, waiting for you to come home like a pet waiting for its owner.
modern!vash, who feels guilty that he can't lighten the stress off your shoulder. you have been working overtime again, just so you're able to afford a place for you and him.
modern!vash, who feels guilty that he can't lighten the stress off your shoulder. you have been working overtime just to pay the bills and to keep the small apartment you've both been living in. you're struggling and he can see that. he sees it every night when you go to bed and he feels you fall asleep in his arms.
modern!vash, who cleans the house and cooks for you both because of said guilt. you told him many times that it's okay, he doesn't need to clean the whole apartment just for your sake. he is stubborn, let me tell you. he will become the ideal malewife.
modern!vash that decorates the place to feel like home. trinkets he collects from his walks with Meryl and Wolfwood end up somewhere on a shelf. you swear that every day you come back home from work you see a new pebble in the plant vase you gifted vash before you started dating.
modern!vash, who texts the group chat with his friends, asking if anyone has free time for a short walk.
modern!vash, who looks at Wolfwood and Meryl as they bicker once again. Wolfwood pokes Meryl on purpose and he laughs silently to himself. The only thing missing is you. The four of you would be out hanging together. He misses holding your hand when he goes outside. But you're not here because of him.
modern!vash, who cries in your arms when you comfort him. you say you're more than happy to work overtime for both of your sake until he finds a stable job. he can't help but clutch the fabric of your shirt tighter, thinking 'I don't deserve you' and 'How selfish of me'. But now that he has you, you can't help but keep you to himself.
"How selfish of me. But I love you too much to let you go, my Mayfly"
modern!vash, who refuses every job offer his brother gave him. he doesn't associate with him anymore, not after what he did to you and his friends after rem's death. he will accept any other offer, but not Nai's.
modern!vash, who looks at the clock, hearing every tick the clock makes. you were already supposed to be home. it's past 9pm. where are you? did you get in trouble?
modern!vash, who worries and runs to the door, putting his shoes on as he speed dials your number on his phone.
-
You huff as you carry 2 heavy bags. After work, you went shopping for some supplies to make dinner. Vash has been cooking dinner every single day and the moment you protest and want to cook him, he hushes you and kisses you with a giddy smile on his face. You noticed when he gives small pecks on your lips, he giggles softly to himself.
Ah, if you only saw that smile turn into a small pout the moment you leave for work.
You swore that if he gives you those puppy eyes again, you will fight your inner self and be stubborn. You wanted to make him dinner too after all the hard work he's doing around the apartment. Cleaning and cooking, you're sure it must be tiring at some point for him.
After walking up many stairs you arrive at your door. You put the bags down as you reach for the keys to the apartment in your jacket. As you were about to put the key in its hole, the door suddenly flew open.
Vash stared at you in shock. His phone was to his ear and barely dressed to go outside. Wearing a gray tank top and black shorts are not ideal for going outside at night.
"Vash, what are you doing?" you asked. The blond registers your appearance, the shock fading away and for pure joy to replace it.
"YOU'RE BACK!!!" he picks you up in his arms and hugs you tightly. You yelp as you feel the air in your lungs slowly running out from his death squeeze.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be here an hour- mmmmf-!" You press your lips to Vash's, successfully shutting him up.
"Stop worrying, I was out shopping. Now put me down, I need to cook dinner." You pat your hand on his shoulder signaling him to put you down. He slowly starts putting you down purposefully, he wants you in his arms juuuust a little longer. You sigh and wrap your arms around him. He feels your arms slowly envelop him. His heart might have just skipped a beat no biggie hahah. "I missed you too Sunshine." you say as you finally feel your feet touch the ground. You look up at Yash and you can tell he's not on earth right now. He's in a daze with a goofy smile on his face. You couldn't help but mess his hair up a bit, ruffling his fluffy blond locks.
He snaps back, finally registering what you said before. "Wait, dinner? But I'm supposed to make you food!" He exclaimed as you took the grocery bags and ran into the apartment before Vash to stop you.
"I'M MAKING DINNER AT THAT'S FINAL VASH! YOU CAN'T STOP ME FROM SPOILING YOU!" you yell down the hallway as you make your way down to the kitchen. Vash dramatically gasps and slams the apartment door shut.
"You have been working all week! You should rest Mayfly, overworking yourself just to make me happy... I don't deserve-" He gasps lightly as you pull him down by the collar of his gray tank top and kissing him. You were going to make the kiss short just to stop him from degrading himself.
That didn't up happening.
Vash hurriedly cupped your face with his hands and desperately pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss.
He's been waiting all week for you to come home and kiss him properly after all.
You are the first one to break the kiss and take deep breaths. Vash was silently looking at you, just staring at you. His eyes softened as he leaned in for more, only for you to stop him by putting your hand over his mouth.
"This won't stop me from cooking, Vash." You scold him. Truthfully, that wasn't his plan to begin with but he'll use it as an excuse for now to hide his neediness. He laughs a bit, his face painted red.
"Can we cook together at least? Please? Preeeetty pleaseee Maaayfly?" He's giving you those puppy eyes again. You huff. You can't fight against that.
"Fine, let me do the main part at least." you say with a sigh. You can practically see the nonexistent tail wag behind your boyfriend.
"Okay! I'm happy with anything, really, as long as you're with me." Vash picks you up again and sets you on the counter. He goes through the grocery bag to see what you've gotten. His eyes shine brightly as he sees fresh doughnuts you've bought for him. After a while, you two end up talking about your day. He talks about how Wolfwood and Meryl fought as usual as you laugh with him. You can't help but stare Vash as he's talking. His energetic movements when he talks about the simplest things, his bright blue eyes, his smile. You can't get enough of that bright, gorgeous smile.
You think to yourself...
If you were to choose who you could spend your life with, you'd choose Vash Saverem in every universe. No matter who he is.
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Note
What’s the quickest you’ve ever written a fic? What feels like the slowest?
Hi, Moss! Thank you for stopping by! For this one, I decided to stick with long fics since I have so many shorter works that were done relatively quickly XD
The shortest was definitely Bad Luck and a Broken Clock. It took about 4 months, clocking in at 52k words, and it's the longest fic I've completed to date!
The longest is a tie between everything I've started since 😅 I wish I was kidding, but I haven't finished anything longer than a three-shot since. My brain is very unpredictable like that. Still trying to figure out how to keep myself on track. Right now, I think the oldest is technically How an Angel Gets Its Wings and I put that one on hiatus for now haha. We'll see!
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This ask motivated me to write 484 words for Home is Where Your Light Shines Brightest.
Experiment Total: 36,877
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zacs-of-rwby · 2 years
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Day 3: Pirates/Ninjas
Dress the Part or We’ll Make You
Summary: It’s Halloween and Oz is joining Qrow on a visit to the Xiao Long-Rose house to celebrate.  The only problem is he’s dressed as himself.  Well, at least until Ruby and Yang get involved.
Author’s Note: I finished writing this while in an airport on the opposite side of the US so… this @ozqrowweek entry wins the award for least edited and most “fuck it” energy.  May be a little messy, but the important stuff is there!  That’s all that matters!
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 10 months
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Hello! can i request a fake deception scene? What I want to say is that the god who is a reading partner hears her moan behind the door and say the name of her brother or closest friend. His heart breaks into a thousand pieces but he wants to see with his own eyes if what he thought was happening was true, but it turns out that he was just tickling him. Gods: Hades, Beelzebub, Poseidon. I'm sorry if my English is so bad, I'm barely learning! I totally love your works and if you want to ignore my request it's okay! greetings!
-(God) came over to your house, to pick you up for your date, and let himself in with your spare house key, he called out, but received no response.
-He wandered around, peeking into your kitchen before heading to your room.
-Your breathy whine filled his ears, “Stop Shiva~ it hurts!” instantly he froze, his heart instantly shattering, hearing what sounded like heavy panting behind the door.
-He was shocked that you were moaning out your brother’s name of all names!
-Fury filled him, fueled by his broken heart, as he slammed the door open, wanting to see it for himself before breaking things off with you.
-Hades- Instantly smiled, seeing you planking alongside your brother, struggling to stay up as your arms shook, whining to the timer to hurry up. You had asked Shiva to train you, as you wanted to be more flexible and stronger like him, so he started off with the basics, core training. Hades sat on your bed, crossing his leg, “Having fun?” Shiva chuckled, finding it easy as he was used to it while you whined, “The timer’s not going fast enough!” He laughed warmly while you tried to scowl at him before the timer went off and you went down hard with a groan. Your brother patted your head, telling you to enjoy your date before moving to your bathroom to wash his face. Hades grinned down at you after you rolled over, “I can’t feel my arms.” He laughed again, ignoring your pout before you struggled to get up to get ready while Hades swore to never say anything about how he thought you were cheating, with your brother of all people.
-Beelzebub- He paused instantly, relief filling him as you turned, tears in your eyes, seeing Shiva trying to help you get your barrel brush untangled from your hair, but without much luck (I’ve had it happen and it sucked so bad). Beelzebub came over, seeing you dressed up for the date, and seeing the paused video on your phone, of a hairstyle using a barrel brush. However, you got tangled and had to call your brother to help. Beelzebub felt foolish, thinking you were cheating on him, with your brother of all people, he knew he would never say anything to either of you as he went to get vegetable oil from your kitchen after you looked up how to get a barrel brush out.
-Poseidon- His eyes widened only for a moment before he leaned against the doorframe, seeing you and Shiva doing yoga, or at least Shiva was, while you were trying to stay balanced in a scorpion pose, your arms and legs shaking lightly. You looked up, seeing Poseidon before glancing at the clock, “You’re early~” he chuckled softly, coming in to sit on your bed, “I wanted to come early to see you.” Shiva grinned, rolling out of the pose and you let your legs flop back onto your mat, a soft whine escaping as you stood, rubbing your back lightly. Shiva ruffled your hair gently, “It will hurt less the more you do it.” You nodded, thanking your brother who headed to your kitchen. You pecked Poseidon on the forehead, giving him a warm smile, “Let me go change and we can go.” He nodded, patting your rear in your yoga pants, which made you squeak lightly before you headed into your walk-in closet. Poseidon sighed deeply but silently in relief, feeling foolish for thinking you would cheat. You weren’t that type of person to do something like that, let alone with your big brother.
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tokusaatsus · 8 months
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—the depth of your heart !
warnings: none
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🦬 m. mikejima!
When Madara thinks about you, it brings forth feelings that are hard to explain. What comes to his mind first, when your name is spoken? It’s glimpses, moments frozen in time; his name on your lips, the upwards quirk of your smile, the sly glint in your eyes as you tease.
He’s all smiles when you’re around—it’s hard not to be. You bring a sense of joy, of lightness to him that he thought he might have lost. Hand in hand, he would go anywhere with you.
When he kisses you, it’s slow and gentle. He’s savoring it because you have time now. Maybe not all the time in the world, because it’s never a guarantee, but you have time enough to do some of the things you want to do. To sit next to each other on the couch and watch bad movies. To laugh yourselves to sleep. To love and be loved in turn.
Madara wraps his arms around your waist in greeting and hoists you into the air. As you giggle, his grin grows wider; happiness is infectious after all. To have something like this, something soft and sweet is a dream come true.
His pinkie links itself with yours when you stroll together, silent affirmations that say I’m here and I’m yours. Anchoring the two of you to this mortal plane, so he does not fade into the darkness and you do not lose yourself in the light. It’s the little things that make this relationship what it is, filling it with love and joy.
Texts sent nearing midnight, an exchange of love and promise. Hi, I love you. I’m counting the stars and thinking about your smile. I miss you when you’re not around but you’re always in my heart. Stay safe. I love you. I love you. I love you. Three times for luck because third time’s the charm.
Sometimes, when all seems lost and Madara fears himself beyond saving, he thinks of you. For if you can bear your heart to him, if you can hold him close and whisper of your love, then he cannot be all that bad. He is broken but not unfixable. Love does not mend all things, but time does and soon Madara’s hurts will be scars smoothed away by the ticking of the clock.
You two will be never be happier then you are now.
That’s a lie. You two are happy right now and you will continue to be happy for the rest of your days, whether alone or together. Hopefully together, Madara says, with his fingers crossed. Hopefully together.
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© tokusaatsus 2023
wc. 434 words
reze txt. i haven't written in a hot minute! so hopefully i'm not too out of practice? happy scribblefes everyone! and to the person who requested, i hope this works as fluff with mama <3
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sixminutestoriesblog · 3 months
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new years traditions around the world
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Humans like their superstitions. The world is so random and abstract and there is so much that we can't, no matter how hard we try, control. And yet, its human nature not to be content to let 'Fate' decide our - well - fate. Some of our oldest stories are about heroes doing exactly that, trying to avoid what life has set down for them. Often they don't succeed but it doesn't stop the next hero's story from trying.
And - every now and then, some hero, somewhere, does win.
What better time to try to set the record straight, determine the future and ward away disasters than as the clock turns over and gives us an entirely new year? So, today, let's talk about New Year's Eve superstitions and see just how many we're willing to do, not because we believe them but because, deep down, we figure why not?
Do you want to travel in the upcoming year? In Columbia, they walk, or run, around the block carrying empty suitcases to call it into the new year.
Hoping for a baby in the new year? In Greece, hang a bundle of onions over your front door. Not only will this up your chances of fertility, but onions encourage good luck too.
Want to make sure there are no evil spirits in your house? In Ireland they use their leftover Christmas bread to bang on the house walls to drive any lingering mischief out. In Puerto Rico, they dump a bucket of water out the window to wash evil spirits away. In Japan, Buddhist temples ring their bells 108 times before midnight, each toll driving away a specific vice or sin so that the new year can start clean. Fireworks can drive off evil spirits too. According to the historic Chinese, the loud sounds scare them off.
Want some predictions for the new year? In the Czech Republic, they cut apples in half. If the apple's core looks like a star than next year everyone will meet again, happy and healthy. If it's a cross, someone will soon be very ill. In Columbia, they place three potatoes under the bed, one peeled, on half peeled and the other left alone. At midnight, grab one. If its unpeeled, you will have financial woes. Still in its skin? A year of prosperity. And half and half is - well, half and half. In Ireland, hiding mistletoe under your pillow will let you dream of your future spouse.
Had a bad year you can't wait to see go? Open your doors and windows on new year's eve to let the old year out and the new year in (I suspect this is easier for people living in warmer climes). In Ecuador, they build paper effigies of the bad, usually politicians, and set it on fire! Bonus good luck if you can jump over that fire twelve times. In Japan, they clean their house to wash away the old year and have it fresh and ready for a brand new year.
Looking for a long, healthy life? In Japan, they eat soba, noodles that are as long as the life the consumers want to have.
Aiming for prosperity? In Turkey, they smash pomegranates on their doorstep. The more pieces and the bigger the mess, the better. In the Southern US, you need to get yourself a meal of Hoppin John. Round shapes resemble coins so in the Philippines you want to eat twelve round fruits at midnight. Don't count on the fruit alone though, in the Philippines its also good luck to wear polka dots the last day of the year.
Have a wish you want to come true? In Singapore, they float wishing spheres, giant floating balls people write their wishes on, in the Singapore River. In Russia they write the wish on a piece of paper, burn it and then drink the ashes down in a glass of champagne. In Brazil, jump over seven ocean waves - you get a wish for each one.
Do you just want general good luck? There's a lot of traditions for that. Eat fish - they only swim forward and so will carry you forward into the new year. In Denmark, get your dishes and go break them on your friends' and family's doorstep. The more broken pieces, the more the luck. In Spain, they eat twelve grapes as the clock strikes midnight for good luck but make sure you pay attention to what you're doing and finish by the end of the chimes or you get the opposite in the upcoming year. In Denmark, stand on a chair and 'leap' into the new year as the clock strikes midnight for good luck. Farmers should wish all their livestock a good new year first thing in the morning. Several countries hide a coin or an almond in the new years eve's dessert and whoever finds it will have good luck in the new year. In New York, they sell candy peppermint pigs that come with their own hammers. Smash the pig, eat the candy and get luck in the new year - and help burn off some holiday stress. In Armenia, the first batch of bread baked on the new year bakes in the luck for the rest of the year's cooking. In Turkey, as the clock strikes midnight, sprinkle salt on your doorstep for good luck. In Japan, waking up early to watch the first sunrise of the new year is supposed to bring good luck. In Romania, they toss a coin into a river on new year's eve.
And finally - don't forget to dress for the occasion! In Brazil, they wear white on new year's eve to bring in a year full of peace. You can still be racy though. Apparently the color of your underwear makes a difference.
White – peace and harmony
Silver – innovation
Blue – serenity and friendship
Green – good health and hope
Red – passion
Yellow/gold – money and happiness
Pink – romance and love
Purple – spiritual connection
Orange – creativity
Black – independence
So there you have it.
Happy New Year!
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