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#day twelve
falsettoseveryday · 1 month
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i don’t see enough people talking about how christain borle sings what more can i say whilst being at a 45 degree angle against pillows?? like he sounds so good but it must be a difficult position to sing in, right?
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hoodies-n-cola · 6 months
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@eddtober 2023 - Day 12: Mark
He'll make it through with his friend there to support him ^^
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esilher · 2 months
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« I know it's true It's all because of you And if I make it through It's all because of you
And now and then If we must start again Well, we will know for sure That I will love you
Now and then I miss you Oh, now and then I want you to be there for me Always to return to me »
Now and Then - The Beatles
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ghostly-penumbra · 6 months
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Ectoberhaunt 2023. Day Twelve
"Obsession/Repression"
Ao3
Warning: Implied/referenced death.
- - -
The people around him screamed, running with no real destination other than far, far away, but Danny didn’t move.
His hands shook, his knuckles white with how hard his fists were closed. Sweat ran down his forehead from the stress.
He did his best to keep his eyes open, but then a kid stumbled, letting go of his mother’s hand, whilst she was ruthlessly swept away by the crowd, and he couldn’t help but scream out, “That’s enough!”
He collapsed to his knees, heaving in deep, ragged breaths, and felt Clockwork wrap him with his cloak.
“It’s okay, Danny, you did good. That was a long time ago, not your fault nor your responsibility.” The Master of Time reassured him.
“They are all dead.” The boy choked out. “And I didn’t help them.”
“Everybody dies and you will not change that.” Clockwork told him firmly but not unkind. “And if you had tried to help them, I wouldn’t have let you.”
Danny ought to remember that; the world was not under his control and he didn’t want it to be.
He had to hold back on his protective urges, develop some restraint, otherwise someone cunning could manipulate him through it, again.
And for that, he needed to practice.
- - -
This is inspired by another fic, I think it was one of @/five-rivers'? I couldn't find it tho, and it's been a while since I read it.
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Inktober 2023
Day 12 - Spicy
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feferi-daily · 4 months
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Day twelve! 38)
I s)(ore )(ope one day, fis)( won't )(ave to fear me!
I just wanna cull t)(em. 38(
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nerdieforpedro · 1 month
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Day Twelve - Daydream
Word Count: 767
Warnings: Joel is very much in his FEELINGS, guilt, self-loathing, grief, imagined poisoning attempt, COFFEE, do I have a thing with porches now?
Notes: Joel Miller may have some survivor's guilt. I wanted to explore what he might be thinking about in Jackson, where he's safe with Ellie. I mean maybe, I dunno. I am familiar with how thoughts can swirl.
Main Masterlist / March Spring Prompts 2024 / Writing Challenges
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Joel Miller’s mind wonders more than people realize. He’s aware that he’s thought of as a boogeyman, legend, nightmare, murderer in the various places he’s been, also here in Jackson too. He keeps a small core group: Tommy and Elle, his brother and his kid. There’s also Maria who tolerates him because he’s useful and her husband’s brother, otherwise she’s on the side of the vast majority in Jackson who steer clear of him. He’s used to the ire and navigating it with a scowl and indifference. He’s aware of what he’s done, worse than people think and he doesn’t regret it. He’s still standing. Joel Miller is still alive. There are times he’s able to picture his daughter Sarah’s face, oddly when he’s out on patrol and sees crimson roses or yellow pansies. If she was here with him, he’d be motivated to do worse to keep her safe, or maybe because she’s with him, he wouldn’t need to. The echoes of her laughter and playful mockery of his lack of culinary skills makes him still form laugh lines on his face when he’s by himself and between the tears.
There are other times where Joel finds himself curious how Tess would do in a place like Jackson. How big of a pissing match would her and Maria have over how things should be run? Would she even care enough to stay or want to keep moving like they had been, smuggling to survive? Would her hair look the same with the sunlight hitting it through the window, a straw yellow with streaks of brown? The same deep breaths against his back as he stays somewhat alert just in case. Just because he’s gotten used to life without her doesn’t mean he doesn’t remember the way Tess smelled or comforted him in some of his darkest days.
It's a rare day he’s not on patrol. Elle’s gone off to classes and he’s sitting on his porch. It’s cool so he has on his green flannel over his white t-shirt and jeans. The air is helping him to wake up in addition to the coffee he’s drinking. It’s horrible, but it was this or some flower tea Maria suggested. She could be trying to poison him; he didn’t know what flower that was.
“Good morning, Joel.”
You greet him despite knowing who he is and what he’s done. Joel’s fairly certain you at least have an idea. Your small wave and warm smile have him sip his coffee to hide his own. He can’t smile for you, you’re not one of his people. He nods after he pulls his cup back from his mouth, certain he can keep his face neutral. He raises his hand, and you nod, heading down the road. You live three houses down, in a small house by yourself. Patrol with you isn’t horrible. You’re a damn good shot and keep your wits about you. On patrol Joel trusts you with his back, and you talk to him, like you did just now. It’s not much, but he’s loathe to admit how much it does mean to him. He’s seen the second floor of your house and that you still have the fuchsia primrose he’d given you a few weeks ago. Miller was surprised that you’d kept it.
Joel was curious about how conversations with you would go if he was ever keen to speak outside of clickers, raiders and landmarks on patrol. You’d likely listen to him, let him talk for a bit as he clumsily asked you some simple question like what you did before Jackson. He was glad you were close in age to him. Well, he’d put you late thirties at the youngest but he’d bet on early to mid forties, given how calm you are and that you seem to have experienced life before everything went to hell, you couldn’t be much younger. Maybe you’d tell him about family you used to have or what our old job used to be if you had one. What could Joel Miller picture your profession as?
He sees you as capable so it could be any and everything. Maybe you had several. His eyes close as he sips his coffee again, the warm liquid sliding down his throat with a gulp. Could he sit out in that field and sip coffee with you? Did you even like coffee? As the sun continued to rise, Joel was curious if you’d sit with him again on a rock but this time side by side so he could talk to you. So many daydreams.
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klaineccfanficlibrary · 2 months
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I know it's true It's all because of you And if I make it through It's all because of you
And now and then If we must start again Well, we will know for sure That I will love you
Now and then I miss you Oh, now and then I want you to be there for me Always to return to me
I know it's true It's all because of you And if you go away I know you'll never stay
Now and then I miss you Oh, now and then I want you to be there for me
I know it's true It's all because of you And if I make it through It's all because of you
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lady-lostmind · 6 months
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Eddie Month Day Twelve: Soulmates
Eddie never really believed in the whole soulmates mumbo jumbo. Knows plenty of people have claimed to have found theirs. He’s heard the stories of meeting someone and just knowing it’s your person. But he calls bullshit. It sounds ridiculous. No way in hell you just bump into someone and want to spend the rest of your life with them. That’s just insane. And kind of fucking barbaric. People just get no choice in the matter? They just go along with it, happy as can be that they’re entire life was just…mapped out for them? He thinks he’d rather be alone for the rest of his life then have to spend it with some random person fate decided he’s supposed to be with. 
That is until he quite literally bumps into someone outside a coffee shop and looks up, eyes locking on a beautiful stranger and feels his entire world shift. Every cell in his body feels drawn to him. Like his very center of gravity has realigned, tethering him to the person in front of him. It’s so jarring that he falls to his knees, right there on the sidewalk. Quite literally can’t stand to bear the rush of emotions he’s feeling for someone he’s never even met. 
“What the fuck?” Eddie stares up at the gorgeous man in front of him, the way his face flashes with concern as he bends down, putting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
“Oh, shit. Are you alright? Fuck. Did that actually just happen?” 
Eddie just stares at him, dumbfounded. Can’t get his brain to cooperate. Can’t believe this is actually happening to him. Eddie takes a deep breath. “You felt that too right? I haven’t lost my fucking mind?” 
A little smile spreads across the man’s face and he nods, offering his hand to help Eddie up. Eddie takes it, feeling his face flush as he realizes how fucking embarrassing this is. People are staring and whispering. Clearly piecing together what just happened and trying to watch as Eddie makes a complete fool out of himself.
Eddie clears his throat and nods toward the coffee shop. “Can we uh–” Eddie just wants a little privacy. Wants to talk to this guy about…whatever the fuck they’re going to do now.
The man glances around like he’s realizing the situation as well and nods, reaching over to open the door for Eddie. Eddie hurries in, quickly finding a seat at a little booth in the corner. His stomach is in knots as the man sits across from him.
Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Has no idea what you’re supposed to say to someone who has apparently just been chained to you for life at first glance. “Uh– Hi. I’m– I’m Eddie.” 
The man gives him an awkward little wave and gestures to himself. “Steve.”
Eddie glances around, pulling at his rings. “So uh– now what?”
Steve shrugs. “Not really sure.”
Eddie shakes his head and huffs out a laugh. “This is fucking nuts.” @eddiemonth
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a-reader-and-a-writer · 6 months
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Day Twelve of Cillian v Joel: Animals/children
We're back, baby!
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Day Twelve of Cillian v Joel: Animals/children
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@green-socks Here we go again! 👩‍⚖��
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thenatashamaximoff · 1 year
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The Last Day Of Christmas; Day 12
Summary: On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...
Pairing: Wanda x Reader
List of warnings could be found on the masterlist
Words: 2,753
✎ | ☃
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December 25th, 2022 (Present Day) “Waiting for the call is one of the bad parts of the job…”
It was something nobody ever wanted. It brought tears that held no end and heartbreak that will never ever mend. It brought the stages of grief and disbelief. But nothing could compare to the broken scream that came from Wanda’s throat when she had opened the door after the knock. It was a cry, a blood-curling, gut-wrenching howl that pierced the morning air to the point where they were surprised nobody had called the cops. Neither Natasha nor Clint had to even open their mouths for the witch to know, she felt it in her soul. And the sullen expressions on both agents confirmed her suspicions.
“...but the knock will always be worst.” 
They had moved to sit in the living room, cups resting untouched on the coffee table, and the house had never been so silent afterward, all of them mentally recalling how constantly noisy the house was. Whether it’d be you singing a song to Wanda, your asinine arguments with Natasha, or just you poking fun at Clint, this place was always filled with your voice. And, to Wanda, it was the best thing that came with the house.
“Anyone with decent courtesy will tell you in person.” Wanda’s voice broke the stillness first, earning Clint and Natasha’s wary gaze. She couldn’t seem to handle the unnatural silence the house was settling in, the sound of quiet bringing an emptiness that brought them to reality. “I had a feel-” The crack in her voice caused her to pause, breathing in slowly, shakily, as she processed her thoughts quickly. “The bracelet.” She cast her gaze down to the band resting around her wrist. “Be together, even when you’re apart.”
“The touch ones, right?” Clint asked softly, earning a look from Natasha, though he easily ignored it. “Yeah, she was- She was telling us about it on the way to the mission yesterday.”
Wanda nodded with a smile, though Clint and Natasha saw the way it wasn’t the same as it was when you were around. “She sent me a message. The… The last message she sent me. I just assumed it was her telling me she missed me, but it felt different when I received it. Like it was a…” She picked her head up, looking at the two. “One of you knows morse code, right? Nat? You can… read the message.” She quickly pulled her phone out, unlocking it in search of the app. “You can tell me what she said.”
“I don’t think-” Natasha cut herself off when she felt Clint send an elbow her way, looking at the archer with a raised eyebrow, but the two didn’t have time for their silent conversation before Wanda was showing them the phone. The redhead sighed softly before taking it out of the witch’s hands. It was an easy code, a simple scan of the signals retrieved from your final touch and she already knew the message.
And so did Wanda.
“Wanda-”
“What does it say?” Wanda interrupted quietly, shaking her head subtly. The tears were on the verge of returning, glossing her eyes with a thin layer. 
She knew Wanda knew what the message said, having had read her mind the moment she figured it out, but the witch wanted to hear it said out loud. “‘We’ll meet again,’” she read, pursing her lips together as she awaited for the Sokovian’s reaction. Natasha sighed out heavily as she watched her sit back down, her eyes focused on something far away as her bottom lip trembled. “Wanda-”
“I’m going to need the two of you to leave.” Her voice came out spooky calm, the stoic look on her face sent chills up and down Clint and Natasha’s spine. It was silent as they stood up, Natasha setting Wanda’s phone onto the coffee table before they left her alone. And it didn’t take long for the Sokovian to snap, not even waiting to hear the click of the door closing before she was up on her feet. Anger coursing through her veins suppressed the sadness.
Her phone was the first thing she had grabbed, throwing it across the room with all her strength to watch it smash into the wall. For a moment, it gave her a sense of serenity, however brief that feeling was. It distracted her from the fact that you were gone, that you were never coming home. She was throwing another item before she could stop herself, having picked up the small, decorative bowl resting on the coffee table. The shattering of the dish seemed to have lifted the burden off of her shoulders. She was desperate to feel more of that, picking up the cups resting on the table in need of a diversion from the pain filling her heart, ignoring the water pouring out of them as she hurled them across the room, listening to them smash against the wall with a satisfying crunch. 
She released a small, sharp breath when she saw the crack on the picture hanging on the wall. Your smiling, 2D face met her red, tear-stained one through the fractures in the glass. But the longer she stared at your face, the more angry she grew. She could feel the fury rip through her in a painful way, tearing at her insides with a fire that she didn't think would ever be extinguished. “See?” she expressed through clenched teeth, hot tears streaming down her face as she continued to stare you down. “This is what happens when you don’t kiss me before you leave for a mission.” She sucked air through her locked jaw, refilling her lungs as her hands formed tight fists by her sides. “You end up in the ground.”
The bracelet around her wrist ripped off with ease, the tears blurring her eyes as the last gift you had given her flew into the wall with a sickening crack, but the rage coursing through her veins caused her to pay no mind to the object. She was quick to run out of handy things to throw, the anger still boiling in her blood as her eyes searched the room for something else. It didn’t take her long for her to make her way towards the tree sitting in the room, decorated with memories of the time you and her set it up. She picked up one of the presents, her fingers digging into the wrapping paper as she gripped it tightly, her eyes burning as she launched it across the room, turning away before it hit the wall. She grabbed another one, unintentionally tearing off the gift wrap and sneaking a quick peek at the present - a framed map of the states - before flinging it into the wall once more.
The tears streamed down her face, her chest convulsing painfully as she smashed your unopened presents, but everything seemed to stop when her hands found one last gift. Wrapped delicately in a paper she hasn’t seen before, her name written on the small box in the familiar handwriting she had come to know. She felt her knees give out beneath her, collapsing to the ground as she stared at the gift.
In the wake of destruction with broken objects surrounding her, she settled down as she moved to sit cross-legged on the floor. Her hands shook as she quickly blinked the rest of the tears away, managing to calm down long enough for her to slowly unwrap the present with care.
She felt her heart stop as she flipped open the box.
━━━ᗢ━━━
November 5th, 2022 “Thanksgiving is coming up. Are we going to do our own little dinner or are we going to the compound this year?”
Wanda hummed at your question, picking her head up to watch as you strolled out of the bathroom. She picked up one of the pillows to toss it onto your side of the bed as you stopped walking to watch her. “I already told Steve and Tony that I was going to make everybody food.” She tugged the corner of the blankets to reveal the mattress underneath before looking at you. “Everybody’s bringing someone. Tony’s bringing Pepper, Clint’s bringing his family, Bruce-”
“Alright, alright, I get it, Hex,” you interrupted, laughing as you took a step forward. “We’ll do Thanksgiving at the compound.” You rested your hands on your hips, taking a moment to stare at her a bit longer as she plugged her phone into the charger before setting it onto the nightstand. “We should get married.”
She scoffed a light chuckle, straightening her posture and turning to you. “Is that your idea of a proposal, Y/N?”
“Certainly not,” you assured her, grinning as you stepped up to the foot of the bed. “I’d do something much more memorable than just laying in bed.” You smiled at her, eyes shimmering in the light. “I want to know so I what to expect if it ever happens. Would you marry me?”
She hummed lightly, wrapping her arms around herself as she raised an eyebrow skeptically. “What are these plans of yours?”
“I had Steve pull some strings,” you told her. “Our next mission together, I’m going to pull out a ring as we’re getting shot at.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she turned away from you. “Hey, that’s fine. I have other ideas. I can steal one of Tony’s jets, we can travel the world, and I can propose to you in Paris.”
She repositioned the pillows on the bed. “You don’t even know how to fly, Y/N.”
“You’re right. The stubborn redhead’s refusing to teach me.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head mockingly. “Besides, traveling around the world would definitely be our honeymoon.” You sighed softly, sending her a warm smile. “No, it’d just be us. Me and you, nobody else. You’d never see it coming.” You moved closer to her, placing your hands on her shoulders to make her face you once more. “Maybe I’ll reenact our first date. Maybe I’ll play a song on my phone, lead you throughout the park in another dance.” You pulled her to you, resting your palms on her hips as she draped her arms over your shoulders on instinct. She seemed to be having trouble concealing the smile growing on her face. 
“Y/N…” She let you sway her back and forth to silent music. “You’re not the type to dwell on the past.”
“People change,” you whispered softly, noticing just how much closer she had gotten in the past five seconds. “I’ve been feeling nostalgic lately.” You pulled her into you, closing the small space in between your bodies as your nose brushed across hers. “We wouldn’t be able to get to the first kiss part.”
“And why’s that?” She smiled teasingly at you, her eyes flickering down to your lips before they snapped back onto your eyes, and your soft chuckle caused your minty breath to fan over her face.
“That’s when I’d get down on my knee,” you answered, your voice still a delicate murmur as you spun around, not letting her body leave yours even for a second, “with a ring in my hand. And I’d say, ‘Forever wouldn’t be long enough for me to spend with you, but it’s a place to start. Marry me?’”
Wanda blinked as she stopped moving, your dance ultimately coming to an end as you moved a hand up to swap your thumb across her cheek, catching the stray tear that had slipped on by.
You sighed heavily, seemingly in defeat, as you took a step away from her with a small shrug. But her eyes were glued to you as you turned your back onto her, slowly making your way around the bed as you said, “It’s only a thought, my love.” You moved the blanket off of your side, doing everything you can to avoid eye contact. “There’s no rush.” You grinned, placing your phone onto the nightstand as you finally met her gaze. “We have all the time in the world to tie the knot and care for an extra mouth.”
She was pulled out of her daze, eyebrows knitting together tightly with confusion as her head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “An extra mouth?” She took a step forward, a small, humorless laugh passing her lips, but the grin on your face has yet to waver. “You don’t want kids, Y/N.” She breathed out stiffly, crossing your arms over your chest as you didn’t dare look away from her. She said your name once more, desperate to get a response as her heart hammered steadily against her ribcage.
“I didn’t,” you confirmed, shaking your head, “but I’ve been thinking about it lately and… I want to start a family with you.”
“Y/N…” Her voice came out broken, hesitant to believe if this was some sort of joke or if you were being genuine. The look in your eyes told her it was the latter. “You… You want to start a family?”
“With you.”
“A-Are you sure?”
You nodded confidently, laughing softly when another tear slowly crawled down her cheek, and you were itching to swipe it away again. “I love you,” you expressed, uncrossing your arms from your chest and taking another step forward, your knees pressing against the edge of the bed. “Always and forever, Wanda Maximoff, and I’m so ready to take the next step with you.” You hadn’t realized you were crossing over the mattress until you were directly in front of her, sitting on your knees as you brought her face in between your hands in a fragile hold. “So… would you say yes if I asked you to marry me in the near future?”
She cleared her throat, closing her eyes as she sucked in a deep breath, seemingly giving herself a moment to reset. And the next time she met your gaze, the warm, loving glint that had built up in her irises had turned mischievous, and you could feel your stomach flip as she breathed out. “You’re going to have to ask me to find out, darling,” she whispered, smirking wickedly as her chin moved forward ever so slightly. Her lips brushed across yours, and you gave in to the desire to close the distance, but she only left you chasing after her. “How many?”
“What…?” You were distracted, staring at her mouth as you seemed to be trying to devise a plan to get that kiss.
“How many kids?” You blinked out of your daze, looking into her eyes as a smile teased a corner of your lips.
“Fifteen,” you claimed, leaning back on your feet. She scoffed, her head shaking at your answer. “Don’t you want a big family?” You smirked at her when she rolled her eyes.
“How about three?”
“Let’s start with two,” you suggested, your voice a bit more serious, “and we’ll go from there.”
She stared into your eyes, half expecting to find some doubt, some hesitation, yet all she could find was love and confidence. You truly wanted this with her, and her heart was more than happy to oblige. “Two,” she confirmed with one stiff nod, leaning forward to catch your lips against hers to feed that burning hunger that had forged inside her chest.
━━━ᗢ━━━
Present Day Wanda picked her head up, tearing her eyes away from the box in her hands as she looked at the tree in front of her. “Y/N…” she murmured, biting her bottom lip to prevent the tremble. She sucked in a breath, looking back down at the ring nestled in the case. So elegant, so beautiful. “Yes.” She nodded, feeling the hot tears crawl down her cheeks as she took the small band in between delicate fingers. “I’ll marry you.” Her chin fell to her chest, her eyes squeezed close, but that didn’t stop the tears from coming. 
Today would’ve been the start of something she had always wanted. A family all of her own. All with you. But what was once a happy, attainable wish is now just a broken, impractical dream. A future that’ll never come to be. Instead, while everybody else is celebrating the season with their families, with joy and laughter and hearts that are whole, she’ll always think of today as the day she lost it all.
Christmas isn’t Christmas anymore. Not to her.
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thelazyecrivain · 1 year
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Fluffbruary - day 12 (tenderness)
Twelveth day of @fluffbruary, using the prompt "tenderness"
I've never written a fic so fast. And such a cute one at that
Read on AO3
French version
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Sherlock hates being touched. He can't stand it. He keeps a certain distance from others around him and only approaches if he needs to. Few people can hold him without him tensing up or pushing them away. He counts them on the fingers of his hand.
Mrs. Hudson, his mother, his father, and accepts Greg's hugs and friendly pats when he's in a good mood. 
Recently, a certain doctor has come into his life and has worked his way with difficulty but effectively into his heart. At first, it was simple unconscious touches as he handed him his cup of tea, a pencil, or his phone. Then it was hands on their arms to silently warn of danger, a hand on their back to steady themselves, a hand around their wrist to pull them to the right place. If John was the one who encouraged the most contact between them, Sherlock did it from time to time without realising it. 
Little by little, the contacts are increased, more secure, longer. When after five months of being roommates John made the first move and touched him where very few people have touched him, the touches were there all the time. Hugs on the couch, kisses as they passed each other in the kitchen, hands in his hair as he bent over an experiment, a hand on his back at a crime scene, a hand on his shoulder as he passed the chairs, petting under the blanket... The list goes on. But Sherlock cherishes every moment, every gesture, every caress against his skin, whether protected by his clothes or not. 
If you were to ask him what his favourite part of all this is, he would answer the tenderness. John doesn't just touch him, he leans in close, looks at him with those dark blue eyes he loves so much, filled with love, and the caresses full of tenderness. Sherlock's heart fills up every time.
But seeing Sherlock refuse the touch of other people, John asked the question when they are both lying in bed together, Sherlock's head on his shoulder, John's arm around his shoulders. "Am I being too clingy?"
Sherlock hadn't said anything, just looked up to fall into his doctor's concerned gaze. To answer his question, he moved closer, half lying on top of him, before kissing him tenderly on his lips. He could feel John melting beneath him. 
"Never" he had whispered and never again did John ask the question.
(tell me if you wish to be tagged !) @topsyturvy-turtely @missdeliadili
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fanfictasia · 4 months
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Whumpcember Day 12
Touch Starved
Spoiler: This is an excerpt from When Stars Align
“No one calls me that name anymore,” Ahsoka says with a slight shake of her head, “That’s not who I am.”
“You still can be,” Anakin objects, “If that’s what you want.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Ahsoka argues, staring. “It never has.”
“You’re free, little one,” he promises, meeting her eyes, now filled with unshed tears. “You get to make your own decisions. To survive, you will have to fight, but you don’t have to hurt. You don’t have to kill to mean something.”
“I can’t imagine being any other way.”
“It was hard for us to learn, too,” Rex interjects, stepping forwards, “That’s all the clones have ever been, but we’re defined just as much as what we fight for, and the people we choose to stay with.”
“Family,” Kolara supplies from the cockpit, “We’re a family. That’s all we’ve ever been.”
Really, there’s no better way to put that.
“That’s not something I have anymore,” Ahsoka argues.
“Do you want to stay?” Anakin asks, reaching out, laying his hand on her shoulder. She freezes up, as if nearly expecting violence, and he wants to stab everyone who made her feel like this in the past five years. Except his master, but that’s a thing he’ll deal with another day.
“I – I don’t know,” Ahsoka whispers breathlessly. “Can I?”
Rex looks at Anakin, who looks at Kolara – she’s sitting half-turned back in her chair. There’s a brightness in her eyes that he’s seen so many times over. Hope. Artoo’s dome swivels around, and he beeps affirmatively.
“If this is where you want to be, then you can stay.”
Ahsoka’s eyes light up. He senses her relief – it’s probably the best she’s felt in years.
Anakin tugs her closer, slipping an arm around her back, tugging her close. Ahsoka wraps her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly. It feels almost oddly automatic for not having met each other before, but Ahsoka needs this, and from how she’s clinging to him, Anakin doesn’t think she’s had this for years.
She presses her face to his chest, snuggling up against him.
“Fly us out of here,” Anakin requests, holding her. It’s a little… weird, but he doesn’t really mind. They don’t trust each other, but she needs this, and he certainly won’t object to it.
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akinmablog · 2 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Armand/Daniel Molloy Characters: Armand (Vampire Chronicles), Daniel Molloy Additional Tags: Bloody Valentine, Day Twelve Series: Part 12 of Bloody Valentine 2024 Summary:
Daniel tries to run from Armand.
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ghostly-penumbra · 11 months
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DannyMay 2023. Day Twelve
“Traditional Media”
Ao3
Summary: Danny and Jason meet. DPxDC. Same universe as this.
Warning: Captivity, kidnapping. Vlad is a bastard.
For @lemon-snake :]
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Danny lay face down in the middle of his room in the Ghost King’s castle. Said Ghost King was currently away being an evil fruit-loop to someone else, so the young halfa had the chance to have a depressive spiral in the fragile privacy of his designated room.
It had been eight-hundred and forty-eight days exactly since his parents had sold him to Vlad and he had last seen them. At first, Vlad had tried to make it seem like they hated him and wanted to get rid of him, but once he saw Danny didn’t fall for his crap he dropped the act and gloated the truth: he had tricked Danny’s parents into believing him his mentor, that their fights had just been a clash of ideas and an outlet for frustration on the boy’s part, and had convinced them it would e better for him to go with Vlad for a while at least, to be properly trained.
Danny smiled bitterly. His parents had fucked up, he could not deny that, but they had done it out of love. They accepted him when he told them he was Phantom, they had hugged him, cried, apologized, and promised to do better, to help him in what they could They had erred out of love, because they wanted the best for him.
Danny started crying.
 I forgive you. I love you too. I miss you all so much. Please, miss me too.
Danny exhaled white fog into the floor and his head snapped up, with his tears freezing, quite literally, in his eyes. He pushed himself up and jumped back towards his couch, settling on his neutral façade and blinking away frost.
The portal opened but Vlad didn’t saunter out cape flowing without wind, crown in place; rather, a guy wearing a red helmet stumbled out, falling to the ground but getting back to his feet in a fluid motion.
He was panting, looking around himself with frantic movements until his eyes landed on Danny, who could only gape at him.
“Where am I?!” The stranger demanded, drawing out his gun and pointing it at Danny whilst taking a menacing step closer.
“Dude, what?” Was all he intelligently managed to say before the fruitloop finally appeared, closing the portal behind himself.
“Now, boys, please do calm down. Let’s not start this with the wrong foot, hmm?” He smiled broadly and simply wavered like smoke when the bullets were meant to hit him in the face. “Son, I know this is a rather abrupt change in your half-life, but this is not a behaviour I will accept.” His smug expression vanished, and the Crown cast dancing shadows across his face. “I expect this tantrum to be over with by the time I’m done with these heroes’ little problem.” The stranger said nothing, only watched carefully at what the fruitloop would do next. Vlad turned to Danny, one expectant eyebrow rising. “Well, little badger?”
“What did you do?” Danny finally managed to grit out, terrified.
Vlad opened his arms magnanimously. “Why, you are always moping around, feeling sorry for yourself and being all lonely. So I brought you a brother.” He looked at the new guy, smug. “Problem solved.”
Danny could only stare horrified at him, gaping openly in a display of emotion he barely allowed himself these days.
“I will leave you to it, I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about, you have so much in common, after all!” He looked at his new victim one last time, and approached him enough to quickly swipe away his red helmet –under which he wore a domino mask. Smart–, phasing it through his head with little care even as the guy tried to dodge, “You will no longer need this.” And without another word, a new portal appeared, and Vlad left.
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This challenge was funny to me because I always write my first draft in my notebook, since I just can't write digitally first. So I thought it would be fun to just put the pics of the draft up there and then the barely edited version.
Yup, that's how I write, all smashed together, not lines between paragraphs and my handwritting is small. Don't @ me.
Though usually I have way more notes and doodles in the margins.
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Today’s reminder!
Have you seen him?
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Now you have pal!
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