#ive been playing for like five hours straight

[chaosoftheages]

My friend: So what are you up to?

Me half passed out on my bed after completing the mine in Stardew Valley and getting the Skull Key: contemplating all my life choices.

#I've literally just been sitting around for five straight hours #playing Stardew valley #Ive finished two rooms in the community center #and am well on my way to completing a third and fourth #I literally just follow the schedule of wake up eat do chores write fanfic and then play Stardew valley until my eyes decide to give up #it is going to reach no. 1 in my most played switch games #IT IS GOING TO SQUASH MARIO ODYSSEY AND POKEMON SHIELD #two other games i've also just sat and played for 100+ hours so I could beat them #pretty sure Mario Odyssey has like 200 or so hours because I've beaten it about 3-4 times #ITS STORYLINE IS SO GOOD LEAVE ME ALONE #stardew valley

[seattlesellie]

ok. can we talk about going with ellie to the mall because i think it would be… interesting.

(fluff ‘n a little bit of smut so mdni! 🎀 also wrote this ages ago and it’s so bad so excuse me!!! and reader is v fem)

౨ৎ when it comes to ellie williams— i believe she will throughly let you walk her like a dog. quite literally following you around the shops hand in hand— to the point where you’re merely dragging her around. at first, she’d be super chill and relaxed, but one hour later after seeing you try on the same dress three times already— she’d start groaning on and on. “babe… do we really have to go fucking zara again?”, when you tell her that you just regret not buying a certain top, she’d be so adorably pissed off, her eyebrows all furrowed together, just thoroughly confused. she would probably want to stop and eat some food every 5 seconds. “zara… or mcdonalds” ,weighing the two options on her hands and clearly placing the mcdonalds option way higher.

౨ৎ if there’s an arcade— you know her ass is fully stopping in her tracks, begging you to come and play some games with her. obviously, you oblige, because she’s giving you the biggest and cutest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, and maybe she’d stupidly jump up when you say yes. she ends up beating you in every single game— and it's so painfully obvious that she’s been there about 17 times already.

“ellie, you’re only winning because you’re here every single day. you’re like a totallll loser” you defend, after she’d been gloating about her winning streak for 5 minutes straight. unsurprisingly, she just denies it. 

“i swear— ive never been here before, babe”

“els, be honest” you warn.

“okay— been here like once with jesse”

“once?”

“once… plus like five” and at that— she turns around, and places her hand behind her back, so you can intertwine it with yours. she’s sooo beating you in bowling.

౨ৎ while you’re browsing through clothes — shed be hugging you from behind tightly, as she kisses on your neck and silently begs for your attention.

“this skirts super cute, right?” you chirp, pointing at the plaid mini skirt and slowly tracing the soft fabric with the pads of your fingers.

ellie has her chaste lips right on your pulse point, and she’s barely even looking.

you pick it up, and she moves closer behind you with her hands still clinging on to your waist. “cute, right?” — you can feel ellie’s smile slowly form on your neck.

“yeah, babe… you’re very cute. thought you knew that already, though”

౨ৎ when you pull out two pieces from the rack (amethyst purple & floral purple) and ask her which color will fit you better, she just rolls her eyes and huffs. “babe… you cannot be serious they're the exact same”, to you, they are NOT. but ellie fully doesn’t get it at all.

౨ৎ put her in a gamestop— and it’s like she won the lottery. browsing through the different controllers, now its your turn to tease and tell her they’re all the exact same. put her in a NINTENDO shop and its literally over. her eyes are twinkling and sparkling, and shes borderline skipping through the store trying to find cool figurines. when she sees a bowser plushie (her mariokart main, duh) she picks it out so fast, and then tries to find you a plushie too— a princess peach or a kirby or whatever you want. she goes to pay, and when you leave the store with your two adorable new plushies inside the bag— ellie fully side eyes you. she has something to say, and you know it. she sighs deeply— “think theyre fucking in there?”

“if they’re anything like us… theyre fucking in there— oh my god, babe… bowsers humping her ass, look” —

she’s literally moving them inside the bag.

౨ৎ okay, so you’re done paying at zara (with her credit card but let’s not… talk about it), ellie left about 15 minutes ago because she was tired of looking at the clothes and she said that place looks like a mental asylum. you’re walking out of the shop with the bags in your hands, and you see her sitting on one of the random mall couches with a random grey haired middle aged man. weirdly, they seem to be in the midst of an incredibly intense conversation. you twist your face because what the fuck and;

“waiting for the wife, huh?” she asks him, manspreading on the chair with her hands resting on her thighs. they’re both staring at the store’s entrance, both sighing heavily. “that i am…” the old man huffs, and ellie chuckles to herself. “me too man… me too”

౨ৎ five minutes later — you find them talking about fucking bathroom tiles.

“i told her i wasn’t going to do marble— but she fucking insisted on it”

you walk a little closer, and ellie is still heavily rambling about floor stuff (?) you have absolutely no clue about.

“els…? ready to go?” you chirp, smiling warmly at the stranger. “gimme a sec” ellie looks at you from the corner of her eye, and keeps going. they’re exchanging numbers because they need to start thinking about how to build a new patio, and he has some “awesome fucking tips, man”

౨ৎ ellie places her hand on your shoulder as you’re walking away, and squeezes. “he was such a cool dude” she remarks, with a stupidly dumb, satisfied smile.

“ellie… he was like, sixty five”

“so? we bonded, babe” she shrugs.

“about floor tiles?” you ask her, and she begins rubbing little circles on your shoulder as you both stray further away from the shop.

“amongst other things” ellie chews on the inside of her cheek. should she say it?

“what things?” you smile sheepishly at your girlfriend, who’s seemingly nervous for some reason.

“you know… his wife…” she bites her cheek even harder now. she should definitely not say it. “my wife” okay— there it is.

her wife.

ten whole seconds of absolute radio silence pass. ellie thinks she might have said too much, but ellie doesn’t know you’re fighting for your life trying to hold on to your tears that are threatening to erupt.

her wife.

“you’re proposing here then, i assume?” you’re trying not to sound emotional, trying not to sound like your hearts about to burst out of your chest and start doing cartwheels on the malls pavement.

“nah… definitely somewhere way classier. like… bora bora, or the food court”

“food court?”

ellie has to stop. ellie has to stop and hold your hand.

“yeah… so i can hide the ring inside your burger n’shit. then you like… choke on it, then i save you… then not only am i a fuckin’ hero, i also get to like… marry the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. and she has to say yes—” there’s no point in swallowing down your toothy smile now. “cause like… i saved her life, y’know?” as much as ellie’s joking, ellie’s cheeks are burning up.

“will you… say yes, though?” she balances her weight from leg to leg, and averts her gaze. mmhm— what an interesting sign!

the way you place your hand on the back of her neck and kiss her hard— that’s definitely a yes.

ellie won’t propose to you in the food court, though. in fact, she has this elaborate plan she has been thinking since about a month into your relationship. that, you’ll never guess.

౨ৎ mall ellie is ALL pda. she doesn’t let go of your hand like ever and constantly needs little kisses on the cheek. she bought you a cute new top? kiss on the cheek. cute dress? kiss on the cheek and on the nose. she doesn’t want you to say your thank you’s, she’d much rather you show them.

౨ৎ when you’re at a lingerie shop… suddenly she comes fully alive. its literally as if someone infused her with seven shots of caffeine and she can’t seem to be able to stop handing you different bra’s, panties, and sexy little nightgowns.

“that’ll look so fucking hot on you” & hands you the sluttiest thong youve ever seen. “that— will drive me fucking crazy” & hands you a sheer bra she can imagine your nipples poking out of.

“wanna eat you out in that” as she hands you a little nightgown and you’re like “ELLIE!” and slap her arm her because a 60 year old woman literally just heard her and looked like she was about to have an aneurysm.

“actually— wanna eat you out in that… and in that too… and in that— oh my god look baby they’re crotchless” wiggling her eyebrows and swaying the fabric in the air.

౨ৎ obviously… she wants you to model them for her. it’s funny, how she didn’t give a fuck when you tried a cardigan on or a hat or saw a cute purse, but now she’s demanding to go inside the dressing room with you and stare you down in the mirror like a perv. she watches you strip out of your clothes and you purposely do it extra slowly, taking your time removing the bra… and now, she’s just leaping out of her sit.

“nope— doing that for you…” she unclasps it, stands behind you and immediately gropes your tits. she gives you sweet little kitten licks and kisses on the neck, whilst maintaining full eye contact with her hands on your boobs from the mirror, and you can’t help but whimper when she takes your hardening nipples between her fingers and rolls them in her thumb. “ellie… were in public” you hiss, bucking your ass onto her crotch.

“we’re not in public, were in a dressing room…” she whispers, like she knows best.

“plus, i gotta test these little panties out… s’for you, y’know?”

ellie makes you sit on her lap to watch it up close, until she’s fully satisfied and is sure that they fit just right, and that she can see herself peeling them off of you. “give me a little wiggle, babe”, she rasps, as her hands roam over your naked waist.

“a wiggle?” you giggle, and burry your face in the crook of her neck.

“like… grind yourself up against me. gotta test the fabric, make sure you’re… comfortable” and— of course you do. you grind yourself up against her thigh until you forget what you even came to the mall for.

ellie’s eyes are fixated on you, taking in your little silent whimpers as you “test the panties” out.

“think… fuck— think we gotta buy them now… soaked ‘em all up, huh?” ellie pants, as she helps you grind your body back and forth. when ellie looks down on her thigh, truly just to watch how your pussy lips swallow the drenched material, ellie comes to an extra conclusion as well. there’s a sticky wet patch, almost heart shaped, over her denim jeans.

“shit… babe, look at that mess…”, she holds you by the back of your neck, and guides your head down. “mhm… gotta buy me some new jeans” your breath cages inside your throat as you begin to stutter, “sorry, el… didn’t mean to”

“oh fuck no… it’s… shit— so fuckin’ hot”

anyways, mall ellie is a menace.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you

[remcycl333]

some thoughts on imagination and fulfilling ALL your desires, no matter how small ♡

hiii! just wanted to share with you guys some things ive been thinking about lately and a new discovery!

so first of all! i went through a little phase this previous weekend where i could not imagine for the life of me. i just could not concentrate, and i kept hyperfixating on every little sound in my room and it was very frustrating. i also could not fall asleep because i usually use daydreams to lull myself to sleep and i couldn't daydream! it was very frustrating.

(side note--at one point i wished that my room would just be silent and then i lost power for a few hours and my room WAS dead silent for a while, lol)

but then i was scrolling thru loatwt, like i do, and i found this acct @/scriptercas and they made a couple of posts about the way they imagine (i like this one too) and i tried it that night and i was DEEP in my imagination for like an hour straight. like me??? adhd aphantasia me???

i know that a lot of you guys are like me and have aphantasia and therefore can't see mental images and you can get discouraged by imagining, but this is definitely my new holy grail and i think this will work so well for you guys too!

(p.s. if you guys are into shifting, that account has some great advice! i'd really recommend!!)

i also recently re-read edward art's series, which i have mentioned in recent posts. once again, i know ive also said this recently, but i highly highly highly recommend reading it (or listening, there's also an audio form) if you haven't already! even if you just read the first five parts. i swear if you are still struggling to fully grasp the law, after you read it you will get it. it's so good.

i bring this up because in a lot of the parts, edward talks about building the habit of fulfilling every single desire--no matter how small--that you have, as it comes to you. and i've just been ruminating on this so much lately.

i remember at the beginning of my loa journey, there would be things that i wanted and i'd kinda mourn the fact that i didnt have them... when i didn't have to. i could've just fulfilled myself. but instead i had the idea in my head that "i'll manifest my sp first, and THEN i can get my desire of receiving flowers." or, "i'll manifest money first, and THEN i can buy the expensive things i want" or "i'll manifest my new apartment, and THEN i can host dinner parties for my friends" etc.

but what i've been thinking about lately--prompted by edward--is that you dont have to want for anything anymore. i can give myself any and everything i want in my imagination. i don't have to wait to manifest something else first.

this has really bolstered my imagination game as well. everything you want to do with or experience once you have your desire, you can have/experience in your imagination right now. and it really adds to your imaginings. it really helps immerse you more and helps you capture the feeling of it being real.

for example, when i was manifesting my apartment, i had sooo many things i wanted to experience once i'd manifested it. i wanted to have my friends over for game night and cook them dinner and make them cocktails. i wanted to bake in my spacious kitchen and have fancy utensils and expensive ingredients. i wanted to shower in my fancy shower and use expensive bath products. i wanted my own vanity stocked with expensive makeup and perfumes. i wanted a large walk in closet with rows and rows of gorgeous clothing. i wanted to come back from a night out and leave my clothes strewn about the bathroom bc i was too drunk to put them away, and no one was gonna see them or yell at me for leaving them there. like some of the things i desired for were so mundane, yet i felt the absence of them in my life every day. for example: living close to a target, being able to make adventurous meals without worrying if my family members would like them, playing video games with my friends in my own living room.

everything i just listed were things i wanted so badly once i had my apartment, but whenever id run into the opposite in my every day life, i wouldn't fulfill myself at first. like i'd go to cook the same old dinner i cooked for my family every other night and i'd be like "ugh i wish i could be in my own apartment where i did the grocery shopping and i could buy fresh ingredients and make an elaborate meal instead of just having pasta and jarred sauce again." but then i realized that if i were in my dream apartment i would be able to do that. i spent so much time imagining waking up in my new apartment and what it would look like, but in the end, imagining stuff like this is what really helped me to fulfill myself and catch the feeling of the wish fulfilled.

i was really reminded of that whenever i re-read edward's series, and now im applying it to my new desires as well. it's so funny that no matter how much i manifest or how much i learn i always find myself forgetting little tidbits like that that really help me and are very valuable.

anyway i just wanted to make this post to help you guys a little maybe! i was just in the shower and i was remembering edward saying to fulfill every little desire you have--not matter how small-- and i was remembering the days i used to imagine myself in my current shower, and id close my eyes and imagine the scent of the shampoo i wanted to get and i'd feel where every individual bath product would be placed once i had my own shower. and all that inspired me to write this!

i hope that this helps you guys out and/or gives you imagination motivation! i feel like it's important to imagine all the small things that pertain to your desire that maybe you overlook while imagining, but that you know you deeply yearn for even if u think they're mundane or that you'll just get them once you get your big, overarching desire <3

#law of assumption

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Ten years ago: the first time you met Simon

Today: the first time Ghost meets you

Tags: mental illness, therapeutic boarding school, self harm, suicide attempt/suicidality, self harm, abuse, parental abandonment, much the same as last chapter. This fic is unedited because I don’t feel like editing it lol. If you see spelling/grammar issues, no you didn’t.

TEN YEARS AGO

Reader POV

-

It’s intake day.

Intake day happens once a week, always on Wednesday.

You don’t know why they pick Wednesday. It seems pretty arbitrary, doesn’t it?

On intake day, the nurses and counselors make all the current residents of the inpatient program line up to greet the newbies. You actually look forward to intake day. Everyone here is so boring and routine; your roommate never speaks unless spoken to and she always keeps her earbuds in. On intake day, the hope that someone nice will be admitted survives for the few hours of the intake itself.

It usually dies right after. There was one polite girl who smiled when you waved last week, but she was transferred to a different facility that night before you could learn her name.

You’ve been here for three weeks, so that’s three intake days.

You’re not sure why you’ve been here so long. It seems a little excessive; you’d think by now they’d realize your stuff isn’t so bad and maybe you could transition to outpatient appointments?

It’s a little dissociation and some minor depression. Not bad at all.

But your doctors agree, albeit gently, that you should stay for the full five month course.

The program isn’t so bad. The facility sits on a sprawling multi-acre property in the British countryside, where everything is beautiful and verdant and always chilly. It’s lovely. The tea is good. You’re getting used to how they take it here. It’s nothing like the sweet tea you drink back home.

You suppose that’s another reason why they won’t let you go home even though you’re okay; there isn’t a home to go back to. Your dad hasn’t looked you in the eye since Mom left. At least the orderlies here greet you in the morning.

(What Dad doesn’t know is that before she left, she told you she loved you and to wait for her. Soon, she’ll take you away from this place and you’ll never have to see your dad again.)

Before you head to the foyer, you check your hair in the mirror of your room’s suicide-proofed bathroom. A young teenage face stares back at you with cheeks flushed red from the sun. You trace your deep smile lines with the tip of your finger, then practice smiling. You would have feel better about moving to a therapeutic boarding school if you’d been greeted with a smile.

At first, you think the newest crop of poor souls will be uninteresting at best. Listless rich kids detoxing off Mommy’s coke, frightened preteens who’ve never been away from their parents for an extended period of time, and a few teenagers straight from an ER, IV bags and all.

And then you see him get off the bus last.

He’s tall, towering over everyone else. A lanky, almost skeletal build, with a bored, aloof expression on his face. He hides the Zippo lighter he was playing with in his sleeve before the nurses catch and confiscate it.

There’s something horrifically severe about him. He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, but he carries himself like he’s a blade and the world is filled with monsters.

His eyes are large and dark, rich brown irises rimmed with pale blonde eyelashes. And they’re kind, even though he would probably hate having that pointed out.

You decide then and there that you’ll befriend him. He could use a friend; everyone here does. He’s beautiful in his sharpness and elegant in his abrasiveness. Maybe you can coax more of that hidden kindness out, show him that it’s worth more than his anger. You wouldn’t be able to stay away if you tried.

You both like playing with fire, though you prefer less literal ones.

-

TODAY

Ghost POV

-

Your smile fades swiftly as if it was never there to begin with.

There are two ghosts in this room. That’s what you are; a ghost of the girl he knew.

He watches and waits for you to shift uncomfortably and start blabbering to fill the silence like you used to. “Why’d you make them call me?” Ghost asks when it’s clear that you won’t.

As soon as you explain, he’s out of here. Ghost meant it when he said he never wanted to see you again.

You’re the last living reminder of the past he’s tried so hard to kill. The beeping sounds of your heart monitor spell out his mistakes in a grating, irritating rhythm.

Your answer disappoints his expectations. “I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Ghost doesn’t hear any wistfulness or longing in your voice, anything that would tell him that you’re clinging on to the boy you thought he was. Only a bone-dry and hollow statement of facts.

“What do you want?”

You ignore his question. At fifteen, you were good at that. At twenty-five, you’re better. “You got any cigarettes I could bum? You look like you still smoke them,” You say as you fiddle with your torn, bleeding nail beds with the classic anxiety of nicotine withdrawal.

He does that too when a mission stretches too long without a resupply and he finishes his cigarettes early to stave off hunger.

Ghost remembers fighting with you over the pack of smokes he smuggled into the program. He would hold it way above your head and laugh as you struggled to reach them. But you never gave up - they were bad for him, and you liked him too much to see him die of lung cancer.

He remembers the determination in your eyes and your unwavering faith that he could be saved.

“They’re bad for you,” Ghost echoes.

If you remember that moment, you don’t show it. “You know what else is fucking bad for you?” Your tone is so acerbic that it gives him whiplash.

He can’t resist taking a shot. “What, being a prick?” You just… bring out the worst in him. You make him feel as unhinged and unmoored as he was when you first met.

You roll your bloodshot eyes.

“I wasn’t going to call you out on that. I was going to say benzos and vodka. Also throwing yourself headfirst off a bridge.”

“Oh.”

What is he supposed to say to that?

“Why did you come?” You ask after a long moment of quiet interspersed by that fucking heart monitor.

Ghost grinds his teeth into each other as he reflects. He hates doing that; the inside of his skull is a bad place. “…I don’t know,” He admits. Coming here was a mistake; Ghost understands that now.

The foul taste on the back of his tongue is guilt. But why? You did this to yourself. You brought him here to play games and fuck him up, so why is he the one who feels… bad?

You sigh. “Simon-“

“Ghost. It’s Ghost now,” He cuts you off with more violence than necessary.

Your mouth settles into a tight, pained line. “Ghost. Go away.”

“But you called me here.”

That provokes a reaction.

Ghost sees it and immediately wishes it hadn’t.

You stare him straight in the eye, your dilated pupils peel back his mask and see the face underneath. Your skin is tinged gray and your bottom lip blooms red with blood from where you’ve bitten through it.

He wants back the child sobbing for his forgiveness on her knees, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“And it was a mistake, and I should never have done it, and I just wanted the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t going to pick up the phone. That I was truly alone.”

So the memory of him is a knife you’re using on yourself. Fucking disturbing.

“Oh.”

You raise an eyebrow as you wave. “Bye.”

Right.

That’s it.

Though your dismissal rankles, Ghost does as you ordered and takes his leave of you.

His work phone vibrates a few times.

Only one person calls that it. “Captain,” Ghost greets.

Captain Price clears his throat on the other side of the line. “Lieutenant. When can we expect you back?”

‘Tomorrow’ is on the tip of Ghost’s tongue.

He’s never taken a day off in his career, which means he’s got at least a year or two in built up vacation time. “I’ll be gone for a while longer, sir. Not sure yet how long,” Ghost answers promptly.

It’s only for a few more days, a week at most. Long enough to make sure you won’t try to kill yourself again, long enough for the guilt freezing his blood and choking his lungs to fade.

“Alright, Lieutenant. Keep us posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

TAGGING: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner

#summertime sadness #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost Riley #Simon Riley #Simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #Simon riley x reader #Simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you

[silantryoo]

huh yunjin x nmixx!reader (fluff)

WARNINGS ; mentions of iz*one disbandment

yunjin wasn't exactly looking forward to the mama awards, not as much as the others.

being a kpop fan herself, she knew that the awards would always be rigged against them, and it didn't help that they were doing a collab stage with people she didn't know.

her introverted self could not handle that.

she walked arm in arm with eunchae, the two chattering away as sakura was on her phone. chaewon and kazuha lagged behind the three of them, both trying to stay awake and barely managing.

"it's too early for this," chaewon complained, just wanting to be back in her dorm.

sakura shrugged. "at least it's only a couple hours. usually, practice lasts up to ten, right?"

chaewon grumbled, hating that the older girl was right.

the group entered the practice room, all overwhelmed at the extreme amount of idols that were there. there had to be at least three groups in the room already.

sakura and chaewon smiled as IVE made their way to the girls.

"chaewon-unnie! kkura-unnie!" wonyoung grinned at them, engulfing the shorter girls into a hug.

"don't hog them. their as much mine as they are yours." yujin joked, sending a playful look to her older ex-members.

both groups bowed. the two have been familiar with each other, with five of the eleven girls competing in the same show. even the maknaes, eunchae and leeseo, occasionally talked to each other.

"there's a lot of people here," sakura observed. "it's already making me tired."

gaeul chuckled. she sighed, looking at the idols huddled into their own groups. "it looks like people are still warming up."

sakura nodded. "we must all be introverts."

the two groups made their way to their own corner. both stretching and warming up for their practice for the award show.

it was fairly quiet, the girls far too tired or far too introverted to say anything. no one during four in the morning was energetic this early.

"gaeul!" a voice shouted from the entrance of the room as it slammed open.

yunjin watched with wide eyes as you raced towards IVE, slamming straight into the main dancer and picking her up. behind you, the rest of nmixx bowed in apology to everyone in the room.

"unnie, put me down!" gaeul struggled as you spun her around more.

many of the idols stared at you with a smile. aside from your visuals, you were known in the industry to be extremely bubbly and extroverted. it had become an inside joke in your company that you and yoona were the love children of your seniors, tzuyu and sana. both you and yoona looked similar to the two of them, but yoona had gotten tzuyu's personality, while you had gotten one similar to sana's.

you put the shorter girl down before bowing to the other IVE members. "sorry for the disruption. when i heard i was gonna see gaeul-ie again i got excited."

"it's okay, unnie," yujin smiled. "you know we don't mind."

you grinned at her, patting her arm gently. "you and wonyoung grew up so well."

yujin blushed. she, wonyoung and gaeul trained with you at starship until you had gotten an offer to jyp earlier that year. it was only natural that you guys had become close.

"unnie!" you heard kyujin call behind you. "get dressed! haewon-unnie said practice is starting soon!"

you waved them goodbye, not realizing that a certain idol had their gaze trained on you this entire time.

yunjin furrowed her eyebrows, frustrated with the fact that she couldn't remember which group you were in, or what your name was. all she could remember is that you smiled at her the entire time while she was dancing to fearless (her own song), causing her to mess up multiple times.

yunjin groaned, slamming her head onto the car's headrest. "unnie?"

chaewon and sakura hummed.

"who was that earlier?" yunjin played with her phone case as she closed her eyes. "the girl who jumped gaeul-ssi?"

sakura bit back a smile, knowing where this was going. all the girls from le sserafim already knew about yunjin's preferences, it was just funny to them when it happened since it was so rare.

"y/l/n y/n from nmixx?" chaewon raised an eyebrow. "why?"

"nothing," yunjin made a face, moving her eyes away from chaewon. "just curious."

"i saw unnie watching her the entire time from far away." kazuha stated, earning a look of betrayal from the american.

the japanese girl shrugged.

"i saw that too!" eunchae laughed, pointing at yunjin's face. "she looked like this the entire time."

the other members watched as eunchae recreated a face that was somewhere in between 'wow, she's pretty' to 'i think i want to get married today'."

"what? no!" yunjin protested. the other girls looked at her, causing her to make a face of guilt. chaewon, kazuha and eunchae laughed, the youngest turning her head away. sakura looked at her in disbelief. "okay, maybe. can't i stare at pretty girls?"

sakura rolled her eyes playfully at yunjin's explanation.

"you wanna kiss her!" eunchae teased, making kissing motions towards yunjin.

chaewon covered the youngest's face in disgust, only for eunchae's affection to be redirected toward her.

"she's your age, y'know?" sakura mentioned as chaewon screamed behind them.

yunjin looked curiously. "how do you know?"

a louder, much more kazuha-like screech was heard behind the two.

"her and yuri are friends." sakura said, glancing over at the three as they play fought. "she used to visit us from time to time."

yunjin nodded, ignoring a scream that sounded more like the youngest. "do you know if she's, like... y'know?"

sakura shrugged, reaching for her noise-canceling headphones.

yunjin sighed, decidedly giving up no matter how pretty she thought you were. she couldn't just go up to you and ask, it wasn't like america here.

it had been the second week, the last until the mama awards. even though her body was sore from all the dancing, yunjin found herself looking forward to the early practices. you had been selected to dance for IVE's eleven, and watching you dance was enough for her, even if she wasn't talking to you.

the entire studio was on break, and many of the idols had gone out, except a couple who stayed to practice more.

yunjin danced in the mirror, not realizing a figure showed up beside her.

"huh yunjin-ssi, right?"

she jumped slightly, turning around to the shorter girl.

"yeah." yunjin cleared her throat, extremely caught off guard. "um, that's me."

you smiled at her, fiddling nervously with the marker in your pocket. "lily said you were my age. you're born 2001?"

"i am." yunjin nodded.

"i know this is sudden," you could feel your throat bubble up with nervousness, but you tried your best to shake it off without the blonde girl noticing. "but could i get your number? no one else here is born the same year as us."

"s-sure! yeah!" she screamed internally ('jennifer, calm down'). "let me just, let me just get my phone."

"i have a marker." you interjected, pulling a black sharpie out of your pocket. you offered it to her. "just write it on my arm."

she felt herself blush in embarrassment. "i didn't memorize my number."

you nodded, accidentally linking eyes with a smirking jiwoo in the mirror. you looked back at yunjin. "then can i write my number on your arm?"

"huh?" she blinked for a second, trying to process what was happening as fast as she could. "yeah. yeah, of course."

"cool." you smiled brightly, part of her melting inside. you grabbed her arm, a spark suddenly running through her veins as you wrote your number. "i'm y/l/n y/n from nmixx by the way."

"i know." yunjin said, a bit too quick for her liking. her eyes widened, watching you giggle as you put the marker away. "i mean, who doesn't, y'know?"

you watched her as she blushed lightly. it was obvious to anyone watching the scene (i.e. your group mates) that yunjin was flustered based on the face she was making. you bit your tongue in between your teeth.

"you're so cute!" you giggled, your eyes turning into creases from joy. yunjin sighed shakily, not realizing that the rest of her team had already come back with food and was watching the entire interaction (which she would be teased heavily for once she got back to the dorms). "you're such a good dancer, by the way. very western-eques."

yunjin scratched her shoulder, "well, i am from the states."

"really?" your eyes shined brightly, realizing you met another english speaker. you cleared your throat as you spoke english, "i'm from the UK, actually."

yunjin felt her breath get taken away. not only were you cute, pretty, talented and her type, you were also british. that was double her type.

"you're british?" she asked with wide eyes.

"yeah, i am. born and raised there. until i moved here, of course." you smiled. you looked over her shoulder, finding that the members of le sserafim were watching you intently. "looks like your members are waiting for you."

yunjin turned around, meeting eyes with chaewon who gave her a knowing look.

"you better text me later, huh yunjin!" you teased the taller girl as you walked back to your group. "i'm looking forward to it!"

she nodded, looking at the number on her arm as her members rushed towards her, eunchae shaking her back in forth in excitement.

yunjin bit back a smile.

> main masterlist.

#huh yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #wlw #silantryo

[callsignfangs]

141 boys as gamers. Yep.

Price:

• Totally the rager.

• Insists the games are stupid and he couldn’t care less about them, he had important work, afterall

• Has to get a new controller/keyboard every few weeks and has multiple controller-sized holes in his walls. Probably even broken a couple mics unintentionally.

• Still plays almost exclusively competitive multiplayer games, tho. Might occasionally dip his toes into horror, challenge, and even collection-based games.

• Unleashes every foul word in his nasty vocab on anyone he dislikes in a game (probably had his mic taken away /j)

Ghost:

• Patience of a saint.

• Tells everyone he doesn’t care about gaming, and tbf he probably cares the least out of the four

• Probably played getting over it with a straight face for funsies

• Also needs to get new equipment often, but just because this dude manhandles it to hell.

• Picks games at random. Probably by the steam homepage. Maybe by requests/recommendations. Does tend to prefer open-world and sci-fi games, though. Also has a very intricate minecraft world he’s spent hundreds of hours on.

Gaz:

• Chaotic as shit

• Always looking for secrets and manages to practically destroy half his game files. He goes looking for an extra coin he missed in a hard to reach cubby two stages back and ends up glitching through the floor twice, skipping three bosses and deletes the save file all in the span of maybe five minutes

• Mans will absolutely feast on any game with decent lore, but actually prefers cosier games like unpacking, minecraft, stardew valley (heavy on stardew). Will happily explore adventure/exploration type games, as well.

• Sits in the weirdest positions when gaming. Mate has both legs straddling the monitor and has folded himself in half like a fleshy garden chair, managing to somehow play the game upside down with maybe a sliver of screen /j

Soap:

• Can’t take shite seriously. Imagine like. A stream with markiplier, wade and ethan as one person. (Gaz is his bob /j)

• Mostly horror games, probably.

• Has gotten banned from multiple platforms bc of this mans OUTRAGEOUS swearing. He pulls out multiple languages, from Scottish to, like, Arabic (ty Farah 😇)

• Speaking of, I think he’s learning a couple of languages. This was bc he accidentally came across a game he really wanted to play that hadn’t been translated to English, so he started learning bits to play it, then he realised he actually really enjoyed learning languages and opening up new opportunities to interact with both games and fans :]

• Most in tune (besides maybe Gaz) with the slang and references his fans make. I like to imagine him saying ‘the girls are fighting’ whenever there’s any fights in a game giggle.

• Has fallen asleep on stream multiple times. Like, he decides to do a gaming marathon and straight up falls asleep in the middle of it. Also if this man doesn’t go to bed at, like, exactly 8pm he will fall asleep right then and there. He’s an old man at heart.

• Makes the stupidest faces. A plot twist had his jaw absolutely snapping to the floor, eyebrows peeking over the clouds and hands on his head. I bet he’s done it so much his jaw clicks.

—

Sosoooo, hey. Im alive 😇😇 Sorry for randomly vanishing, ive had a bunch of personal stuff to deal with and honestly my motivation died a little. I pinky promise im working on asks n stuff 😚 I might stick to more hc-y posts for a bit just to like. get accustomed to everything again. So yaya 😚

#call of duty #cod #cod mw3 #cod fandom #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #captain price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #headcanon #hcs #gaming #cod mwii #cod mwiii #task force 141 #tf 141 #cod fic #fangs drabbles

[ladywaffles]

humpback whales

mavdad + whales: a discord prompt written for @nicejobkid

So here’s the thing.

Bradley Bradshaw was all of eighteen years old with a head full of exactly jackshit nothing when he left Maverick and Iceman’s house on the end of the street. He didn’t know a goddamn thing about being an adult, even if he claimed otherwise. He left behind an entire life: baby pictures and journals and reels of home videos.

He really did think leaving was the only choice he had. In hindsight, it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever done.

On the one hand, he knew it would be fine. The Navy always provides. He got three square meals a day at Basic and an annual physical that he always aced, thanks to a lifetime of playing baseball and racing Maverick around the diamond. His old man had no right sprinting that fast.

But then there’s the other hand: the calendar of shots and immunizations a teenage boy going off to college required, the yearly appointments with an optometrist, a dermatologist, and most crucially of all, a dentist.

Bradley, Iceman always said, was blessed in that he didn’t take after either Goose or Maverick, both of whom had terrible teeth. Their x-rays were surely some kind of dental case study in a textbook somewhere. But Bradley had taken after his mother and Iceman, in this regard: his teeth all came in like ducks in a row, pearly white like ivory piano keys.

Maybe it was just bad timing, maybe it was because his teeth were just that good, but when he enlisted, no one bothered to ask Ensign Bradshaw if he’d ever had his wisdom teeth out.

So fifteen years later, with a toothache so bad it’s finally driven him to the clinic—and isn’t that embarrassing, to survive Maverick Mitchell’s particular brand of insanity, an ejection out of an F-18, a dogfight in a jet that had no business being in the air, and a (controlled!) crash landing, only to be done in by a goddamn toothache—Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, aged thirty-four, with his newly re-acquired father in tow, has his wisdom teeth removed.

They don’t hook him up with an IV, thank goodness. Instead, they give Maverick a packet of pills to make Bradley take an hour before surgery that will supposedly knock him out for the duration.

As a member of the F-18 Ejection Club, Bradley’s been on the good shit for the past few months. He has sincere doubts about these pills.

“Bottoms up, kiddo,” Maverick tells him, pushing the pills towards him with a cup of coffee. It’s the same mug he gave Maverick for Father’s Day when he was ten years old.

“You’re the worst,” Bradley says, swallowing the pills in one go with a scalding hot gulp.

Later, Maverick will laugh at him over the dinner table as he recounts to Ice what exactly happened when Bradley had his wisdom teeth out. (He really shouldn’t have doubted those pills.)

The meds hit about fifteen minutes after he takes them. It falls to Maverick, all five-foot-and-change of him, to wrangle six-foot-oh of Bradley into the Bronco, strap him in, and haul him back out into the dentist’s office. He vaguely remembers being wheeled into one of the surgery rooms and led to sit on the chair, falling asleep, and then waking up to the dentist telling him they’d finished taking his teeth and they just needed to stitch him up.

He immediately bursts into tears—he hates stitches more than anything—and then conks straight out again.

He doesn’t really remember getting home, only that the next time he wakes up, he’s back in Maverick and Ice’s house, laid out on the couch. Maverick is whistling in the kitchen. He’d covered Bradley with an old blanket. A smart move on his part; Bradley drooled on it in his sleep.

Maverick comes back into the room with two bowls of very boring chicken broth.

“Good morning!” he teases. “I didn’t know you were such a lightweight, ducky!”

“Yuh’re de wurst,” Bradley gums through the cotton gauze in his mouth.

Mav hands him a bowl and a spoon. The broth is barely hot. Gross. He looks up at Maverick with the same baleful expression he used to get dessert before dinner as a kid, but Maverick just laughs at him.

“No dice here, Brads. You’re not getting anything hotter, unless you wanna get your stitches replaced.”

Bradley rolls his eyes and slurps his lukewarm soup.

Maverick flips on the TV. He turns on a nature documentary on humpback whales, then kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, the exact way that Bradley knows Ice doesn’t let him.

He can see straight through Maverick. It’s the same routine he used to do when Bradley would stay home from school sick. Animal Planet never failed to knock him out. It was more effective than anything else at getting him to sleep.

But this time, Bradley finds himself staying awake as he watches this otherwise ordinary whale documentary with Maverick sitting next to him on the couch. He’s an adult now, but Maverick is treating him as if no time has passed. There’s no resentment, no blame, for all the pain he’d caused his father.

He missed moments like this, in the years they spent apart. He’d almost forgotten how nice it was to have someone to care for you.

In the end, Bradley stays awake for the whole movie. It’s Maverick who falls asleep, his head lolling to the side to rest on Bradley’s shoulder. It’s not such a bad place to be, Bradley thinks to himself, trapped on a cozy couch with his dad.

He hits play on the documentary again and settles in closer to Maverick. The whales are pretty cool, after all.

#top gun #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #lamby.prompt

[dayurno]

thank u for sharing the hcs….. so silly….. i need to watch fast and furious and think about renee for the vibes now bc ive also never seen it. some of mine that come to mind right now are:

i also think Kevin hates the gym! especially cardio. it’s important and it helps his Exy performance so he’ll never complain but GOD does he hate it :) and in terms of speed he’s just Average and it kind of haunts him. and then also for kevin i think he’s really kind of scared of dogs. all of them. he’s never been around them so he won’t say it but he’s very apprehensive around them

in general i think jeremy is emotional, but specifically, he gets really annoying about it. like if he’s overtired? he’s so cranky. god forbid if he gets too hungry, he’s HANGRY and is just kind of awful to deal with until he eats something. has to eat every few hours, otherwise he might literally cry about it

i think jean really just likes Touching things with his hands. making and feeling and knowing his hands can create things instead of break them or only play exy. i know it’s a popular hc that he likes art but it really makes me :) +++ i think he has an awful habit of slouching, trying to make himself smaller, so renee and kevin and jeremy and eventually all the Trojans are on his ass about it. telling him to stand up straight and thumping him on the chest to be upright. yeahg

THIS IS VERY CUTE i love kevin being scared of dogs i really can see it! i have a similar hc but i do have a reason for it i think kevin is afraid of dogs because one bit him when he was a kid and it wasn’t even like a Perforating Wound but it became a core memory for him… i think he gets better about this eventually but to me he has an ingrown sense to hide behind the nearest person at the sound of a dog barking. also re: speed nora said it herself that kevin doesnt actually like running either HAHA i think he’s the bravest girl in the whole world for taking a career that has him running every single day

AH JEAN SLOUCHING canonest of canons i think kevin would be such a bitch about jean’s posture both sitting and standing up!!! i can see him poking jean on the back to adjust his shrimp-like complexion Now and honestly its lowkey psychosexual that jean fixes it immediately. pavlov’ed. clicker trained. artist jean is cute! im always a little torn trying to imagine his art style because i think he would probably be making those traumacore bpd hello kitty drawings 🥹😭 but who knows i love thinking about jean drawing at all. do you think he ever does portraits? how many of renee does he have. like five thousand

i love jeremy hcs when they’re funny 🖐️ to me lately ive been thinking about jeremy being a horror movie bro because in 2006 there were only so many things you could be into and i think its funny to imagine in a kerejean sense. jeremy (deranged) watching the nastiest most ridiculous low production found footage movie at the breakfast table and kevjean sitting there like can we move this to a later hour. would not like to hear about a man grilling someone else’s testes while eating breakfast

#the best kevjean hcs are the cute ones. the best jeremy hcs are the deranged ones #i know i know hes normal and beautiful but normal and beautiful people can be deranged too for other reasons #and isnt it WEIRDER for someone to have experienced no major trauma at all and still watch testes-eating horror #hes like jean watch vomit slaughter dolls with me 🥹 and jean’s like no thank you #vomit slaughter dolls was tuesday evening for jean in the nest #anyway reblog if you would defend kevin day from a 8kg overexcited golden retriever #who wants to say hi to him so so so so much #asks #kerejean

[6of575]

my goal is to try and make at least a post a day on here, even if its nothin very interesting to anybody else

i feel like,,, if i can finally successfully make it a habit to post and engage, it might just trick my brain from task avoidance

so! post done and heres the part for me thats fun:

(under a cut since its ramblin long)

the books im currently reading concurrently are some conlang construct books mr am got me that have been on my wishlist for ages, along with a very cool book about black holes and theories surrounding them, which mr am loaned to me from his collection

one of the things we share is a love of science and space, and more specifically, stars and time travel and all the things about our known universe that black holes straight up break

i have a lot of fun chatting with him; i really cant overstate the value of a friend so genuine, who i am never too much of, and i can talk about all my interests without the reflexive dread creeping on in

all that bullshit i learned growing up, yanno the kind: "im boring, im dumb, who could possibly enjoy swapping rock facts, much less listen to hours of it even when it our interests DONT align"

like, theres so much else about my friendship with him thats meaningful, but thats top tier right there

and lately? ive gotten a few others in my corner, who when i share, im starting to feel like that with them, too

its so weird! to have gone from one person to a tiny community of folks (and i mean little! its like,, five? six? of us max usually) that thrive on a love of the weird and the cringe and the stubborn hope

plenny others have waxed more eloquent than me about this sorta thing--how fandom spaces come sorta pre-fab with common, shared interests that its fans bring, and they build their fort and theres rules already laid out, and it becomes a second (sometimes first) home, of sorts

but when its starting from scratch, when its about stuff and is made by people that others just wouldnt ordinarily invest in or look at without outside prompting, thats not the same! its not a bad thing, more neutral, but its stressful, its really such a lonely feeling

except--when you finally find it, that person, and thats a community of its own, and it can grow, and suddenly you swappin stories, throwing jokes! and memes and links and hey inevitably, theres also those what ifs about your little guys

and everything is srs and sacred and everything is hilarious and "i cant believe this is real life" levels of stupid

you get to learn habits and quirks and whole personalities

"hey this reminded me of you" "hey, check out this view" "oh, thats right, yer the possum dude" "you love medieval lore--and i read this, and what do you think about it, too"

its suddenly kind of a fandom space after all, and its like, still work of course, reaching for and keeping more and being a person with, it aint that neat or pretty

but its got warmth and joy and expansion, after a lifetime of making yourself small enough to try and fit

you end up fans of your friends, fans of their life, hyping each other up and up and up about the most mundane shit and it starts to look like not even the skys the limit

planning things to do together, spending long hours into the night to parallel play with vidgames or watchin movies like time aint nothin thisll last forever, right? (it doesnt, always, but thats also part of this, and the ones that stay, the ones that work with you

those are the ones waking up to backread your chats like its the morning newspaper

and your life matters

like its better than the best hot goss, its saturday morning cartoons and their favour ice cream flavours

only now we adults and its also commiseratin over breakups and bills, and cross-country moves, and its celebrating that i saw chickens in the yard today and you finally got your boygirlthemsomethin gender fuckery juice)

idk idk idk

i feel some kinda way about all that

i never thought id make it so far that im nearly forty

never thought id get to ask "okay, well, now what? what do i wanna do, and try, and be?"

im... starting small i think, and im for reals happy, happier than i have been in years; i learned how to be alla my friends biggest fans, and im starting to finally believe

other people can feel that way about me

i just really think thats kinda neat

#6oftext #hexfold glories: transparent stories

[nineliabilityrisk]

Who's your least favorite animatronic?Which game is your favorite?What's your favorite Fnaf song?Have you played any fan games? If so which is your favorite?

6. who's your least favorite animatronic ?

— hard to say because i like so many of them. however uh . do the plushbabies from help wanted count? because if so its them. i hate those little things so much their minigame is SO ass its unreal. honorable mentions to scraptrap / burntrap [ good character, visual designs left something to be desired . would say the same about glitchtrap but hes growing on me, ] the dca [ FINE AND GOOD CHARACTER. i have just seen enough of them to last me 14 lifetimes from tumblr despite having literally every imaginable tag about them blocked, ] any iteration of balloon boy / jj, plushtrap, and the bidybabs / minireenas, as the whole group makes me see red and fills me with the urge to punt them straight to timbuktu. why so small if not meant to be launched at high speeds.

7 . which game is your favorite ?

— already answered in the last post but uh. fnaf world, and sl / pizza sim are tied for second place

8 . what's your favorite fnaf song ?

— SHIIIIIIT time to promote my fnaf fansong playlist. out of here, my favorites would probably be [ in no particular order other than where they appear on the playlist because i could NEVER rank them: ] after hours by jt music, game over (y.g.i.o.) by miatriss, theyll find you by griffinilla, survive the night by [ you know who, i know hes a shitbag but that song was one of the biggest things i remember from my childhood so it stays, ] five nights at freddys pt. 2 by saymaxwell / five nights at freddys 2 by miatriss [ two versions of the same song, they both slap, ] the bonnie song by skyfixing, run run! by jorge aguilar II, not the end by saymaxwell, join the party by jt music, circus of the dead by tryhardninja, another round by apangrypiggy, you cant hide by ck9c, you belong here by jt music, nightmare by design by tryhardninja, left behind by dagames, please stand by by nightcove_thefox, l.o.l. by rockit music, now hiring at freddys by jt music, going back by various artists [ too many to list, ] labyrinth by various artists, and afton family by kryfuze. i KNOW thats a lot but please do not make me choose ill like. cry. this playlist is practically all ive been listening to since before i started this blog. it is my magnum opus. i enjoy it a normal amount.

— if you REALLY want to make me choose i would say any of the above listed songs by miatriss. smth about her music scratches my brain in the right way and Y.G.I.O. was a core memory for me

9 . have you played any fangames ? if so , which is your favorite ?

— i have, in fact! the glitched attraction is easily my favorite out of the ones i have played, and likely always will be. if forsaken ar counts as a fangame you can also count that. i have never actually played the joy of creation or return to bloody nights but i enjoy them both as well !

#ooc | nines speaks #ooc | answered

[cloudsmovingcastle]

!!! Okay, so I finally got the chance to play the Final Fantasy 7 remake today, now that my PS4 is out of Mold Hell (TM), and y’all, I am having a blast

the graphics are amazing! the voice acting is amazing! the game mechanics are amazing! I’m having! so much fun!

also Tifa is very pretty and I am very gay

#g speaks #ive been playing for like five hours straight #which i almost never do! i usually dont play video games for such a long stretch at a time #its hard to keep my interest for that long. but yall! #this game is the BEST #the only part i dont like is that i cant pet the cats #cloud plays ff7r

[aubreysux]

y’all dr:s is so fucking addicting

#personal #ive been playing for like five hours straight lol #super cute too

[e-m-christina]

No One Like You - Nick Clark

Requested by @heyitsreece44​

Pairing: Nick Clark x Reader

Summary: After almost losing her best friend to a drug overdose, Y/n finally reveals her feelings for Nick.

Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, mention of drug use, slight angst if you squint

MASTERLIST -- REQUESTING INFO

The hospital hallway was like something out of Star Trek. Everything that could shine, did shine. The floor was made from sleek stainless steel and the art on the walls were paintings of all-natural images in colours as bright as glacier melt-water or spring flowers. The air had a pure fragrance, not sterile, just clean. Music played in the background, at just the right level to give the patients and staff an emotional lift.

Your knee bounced in anticipation as you sat in the waiting room outside Nick's ward. Your mouth stung from the countless times you had gnawed down on your lower lip, almost drawing blood. You didn't know how long you had waited, it could have been five minutes or five hours, all you knew was that your best friend had almost died from an overdose and was in critical condition in the room next to you.

It was around eight o'clock when you got the news. You were preparing for a busy night serving at a popular local restaurant when the phone rang. It took you a while to calm down Alicia who was in a mess over the line before you got a straight answer from her. Dropping everything at your feet, you rushed straight to the hospital and just prayed that Nick would pull through.

The road to the Hospital was a familiar one - you had travelled it many times, during the day and late at night. It wasn't the first time Nick had overdosed, he had survived at least three times, but you knew it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out. If you were honest, you didn't know what you would do if Nick died. You had been best friends through thick and thin and always seemed to get each other out of every bad situation you both would inevitably wind up in.

And through it all, you began to develop feelings for your best friend, though you had vowed to never tell him because you were sure he would not reciprocate those feelings. You convinced yourself that he thought of you as just a friend and nothing else. Before you fall deeper into the rabbit hole of your thoughts, a door squeaked open and a nurse, followed by a blonde woman stepped out into the hall. You quickly stood up and made your way over to Madison and the nurse lady.

"How is he?" You asked, skipping the formalities.

"He's a little shaken but he is stable." The nurse said as she scribbled something on her clipboard. A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you turned to Madison.

"Can I go in?" You asked (even though you were pretty sure that if she said no, you would find a way to barge in any way).

"Yes, of course, you were the first person he asked for when he woke up." Madison gave you a wink before nodding her head to the vending machine. "I'm going to grab a snack, so you go ahead in. Just don't get up to any mischief."

You wasted no time and swung the door to Nick’s ward open, revealing a familiar room room that was dimly lit by the gentle glow of a lamp on his bedside table. By the window lay Nick, who looked pale and tired and was hooked up to multiple machines. 

“What took ya’ so long?” Nick grinned, looking up from the book that laid on his lap. 

“Oh be quiet, or I’ll unplug your...whatever the hell that is.” You huffed and pointed to the beeping machine that conected to Nick’s arm through an IV.

“That would probably put me in a coma.” Nick smirked, waving his arm at the stool beside his bed. “Take a seat.”

“So,” You said, perched on the wobbly stool. “How are you feeling.” 

“Better now you’re here.” Nick flashed you a bright smile which you did not return. You could read Nick like an open book, no matter who he managed to fool with his humour and charm, you could always see right through it. You could tell he was hurting inside, and his witty bravado was all an act. 

“I’m being serious, Nick.” 

“So am I!” 

“Nick.” You fought off the smile that was creeping onto your face and folded your arms. “You don’t have to pretend around me. You can tell me what’s going on.” 

“There really isn’t anything I can say.” This time Nick’s smile faltered and his eyes flicked down to his hands that lay fidgeting in his lap. 

“Did you OD on... purpose?” Your voice wavered a little. It would kill you inside if that was true and he tried to take his own life. 

“No,” Nick grabbed one of your hands. “It was nothing like that - it was an accident. I don’t want to die. Besides, who would I hang about with in the afterlife? My chess-obsessed grandpa?” 

A faint smile graced your lips as you looked down at your hand in his. It was a habit Nick had formed a few years back - whenever you were upset he would hold your hand in his as a form of comfort.

"There it is, the smile I love to see!" Nick laughed, giving your hand a squeeze.

"Shut up, you idiot." You tried go fight off the heat that rose to your cheeks. "I don't know what I would do if you were gone."

"You'd find someone else." Nick trailed his thumb over your knuckles. "There are plenty of low life crack-heads out there."

"Don't talk about yourself like that." You scolded. Lowering your gaze, you mumbled. "There is no one else like you."

You expected a sarcastic reply in return, but you were greeted by silence. You pulled your gaze back up to meet brown his eyes, and found that he was staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes," You started to worry if you said the wrong thing or somehow offended him. "What I meant was that you-"

Before you could finish your sentence, a pair of warm lips pressed against yours. Breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened as you processed what was happening. Nick was kissing you. Nick Clark, your best friend, was actually kissing you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you began to reciprocate the kiss, moving your lips gently against his. Just when Nick wrapped his hand around your neck to pull you closer, the door swung open and you jumped back as if Nick had burned you.

"I got you two some coffee - oh."

Your head whipped around to see Madison standing in the doorway, clutching two cups of coffee with a smirk etched onto her face.

"I'll just leave this here," Madison said, placing the coffee on the table. "I'll be out in the waiting room if you need me." She quickly cast you a wink before shutting the door.

"Well that was awkward." You turned back to face Nick with burning cheeks. But he seemed unabashed and was grinning from ear to ear.

"There is no one like you either, Y/n'

#fanfiction #fanfic #romance #nick clark x reader #nick clark #nick clark fanfic #ftwd nick x reader #ftwd #fear the walking dead x reader #fluff #nick clark fluff #frank dillane #twd #the walking dead x reader

[formula-what]

Brocedes time line for a very patient anon

Lewis quotes in orange, Nico quotes in pink, everyone else is blue.

okay first some background knowledge:

Nico is rich as fuck. only child, born in Germany, brought up in Monaco. son of world champion Keke Rosberg

Lewis was born on a council estate in Stevenage and his dad had to work multiple jobs for him to start karting

Honestly I think the difference in their backgrounds is one of the things that pushed them together, they were both isolated from the rest of the kids, but I’m keeping this purely facts rather than speculation.

2000

They’re both 15 years old and are karting teammates for MBB (Mercedes Benz McLaren) in Formula A

Robert Kubica: “there was always competition. But they didn’t fight. It was friendly competition. There was always laughing afterwards.” // “they would even have races to eat pizza”

They often shared hotel rooms at the races which was a “scene of many wrestling matches between them”

Dino Chiesa (their karting boss) – “many times I was called by reception about some problem in the room. It might be noise, or they might have broken something. They would never sleep so they were always tired the next morning”

“they both liked ice cream so much, particularly vanilla. During the night they wanted to eat ice cream always, so I had to go out everywhere to find some and keep them happy”

Lewis would often persuade Nico to buy him sweets

They would have competitions over LITERALLY EVERYTHING

Lewis: “we always had great competition whether on the racetrack or computer games or playing football”

“probably the first bit of competition we had was when Nico used to ride a unicycle everywhere so I thought, ‘I’ve got to learn how to ride this unicycle. Ive got to be better than him.’ I spent all my time outside the go-kart learning to ride this unicycle”

Apparently it only took Lewis 2 hours to teach himself how to do it

In maybe 2013 ish (when they were still friends) Lewis reflected with– “I have never laughed so much than when we were racing together. Nico was kicking everyone’s butt at that time. We had so great races together and built a great relationship”

“we were just arriving and enjoying go-karts and eating pizzas every weekend, fighting all the time and just having fun, whereas now it’s all business.”

many times they would talk about what they would do when they got to f1, made plans hoping to be teammates and become world champions together.

“Nico would say ‘when I’m in formula one’ and for me it was always ‘if I ever get to formula one’. Because obviously Nico’s dad was a formula 1 driver- he knew he was going to make it.”

F1

Nico joined f1 in 2006 with williams, Lewis 2007 with McLaren. And man I WISH I knew what went down with this two when Lewis nearly one his rookie season (missing out by one point to mr fernando alonso) and then WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP in his SECOND SEASON (again by one point thank you mr alonso)

2008 Australia

Nicos gets his first podium, and ofc Lewis is there (he won it) and they are jumping around in the cool down room. Just, two kids who are literally living the one thing they have spent their whole lives dreaming about together. Lewis won the championship that year and oh wow I can only imagine their celebrations together.

2013

They’re teammates in Mercedes!!!

Nico: “every other day there are moments or things that pop up and I can smirk and thing, ‘that’s exactly the same as it was 15 years ago’”

2013 Malaysian Grand Prix gets an honourable mention. This is the race with red bulls good old multi 21 but merc also had their own team orders, stopping nico from fighting for his first merc podium, but Lewis disagreed with it so it didn’t really spark that much tension between them- more the team.

2014

the start of the turbo-hybrid era so y’all know this was good in terms of performance.

2014 Bahrain Grand Prix

They were both fighting for the win and had a collision which prompted a “mock fight” in parc ferme after the race (which I really hope there’s a video of).

Turns out, Nico won because he had used engine modes banned by Mercedes to get a power advantage in the closing laps. which kinda pissed Lewis off

2014 Spanish Grand Prix

Lewis’ fourth win in a row and took lead in the championship. They were fighting till literally the last second and Lewis crossed the line 0.6 seconds ahead of Nico, who says he could have passed him with one more lap.

Lewis defended using the same banned engine modes that Nico had used in Bahrain. Yeah.

2014 Monaco Grand Prix

This is IT. This is peak petty bitch. This is the one people still cry about.

It’s the end of Q3, both of them are out on a lap, Nico ahead of lewis. Nico’s already on provisional pole but Lewis is pretty close.

And then,, Nico just,, parks his car?? He says he made a mistake but the guy doesn’t even crash he straight up just,, rolls to a stop into a slip road. So the yellow flags come out forcing Lewis to abort a lap that was in the makings of pole.

The stewards say it was a-okay but Lewis was convinced it was intentional (and let’s be honest, yeah it probably was) and he even claimed that merc’s data proved it. (low key surprised he didn’t just tweet out the telemetry but I guess he got a stern telling off from mclaren last time)

But *this* is when Lewis tells the world that they aren’t friends anymore. An iconic interview.

Nico then wins the race too, ending Lewis’s four win streak and putting Nico in the lead of the championship.

2014 Hungarian Grand Prix

Lewis has an engine failure in quali meaning he starts from the pit lane, but he does good to make his way up the pack but THEN there’s a safety car which puts him ahead of Nico but on a different strategy.

Nico asks if Lewis can let him past as he needs to pit again before the end of the race, which will give him the place back anyways. Lewis straight up refuses, he’s on a role here. He started from last, and Nico started from pole, why should he slow down to let his title rival through.

Mercedes strongly suggest that his blocking fucked up Nicos race but Niki Lauda is on Lewis’ side so he doesn’t get punished (We stan a supportive father figure) even though he did blatantly refuse to be a team player.

And guys, this is the last race before the summer break so you know Nico was left seething for four weeks.

2014 Belgian Grand Prix

Second lap, Nico attempts a clumsy move and there’s contact, giving Hamilton a puncture and knocking him out of the race.

There’s a lot of controversy but basically it turns out he crashed with him intentionally, not backing out of the corner to “prove a point”. Nico ended up finishing second but was punished by the team, forced to apologise, and even booed on the podium.

2014 Abu Dhabi

For some reason it ran for double points?? The first time in History??? But idk???

Lewis had a perfect start and went on to win it and take the title, Nico had a problem and was told to retire the car but he kept going anyway and finished 14th. Nico went into the cool down room to congratulate Lewis on the championship win, which. cute.

Lewis claimed his second championship. Which not only was huge because of the inter team rivalry, but also because of the large gap between his first win. This guy had lost out on winning the championship in his ROOKIE season by ONE POINT, and then WON it in his SECOND season, and then there was like a FIVE YEAR gap before he won it again.

2015

Damnnn this car was fiiiinneeeeeee.

They do more laps in testing than any other car AND do it on a single power unit. And then. Australia. They take a one-two THIRTY FOUR seconds ahead of the third place Ferrari.

2015 Chinese Grand Prix

Nico is second in a one-two but claims that Lewis kept backing him up into Seb, trying to compromise his race (and help out his boyfriend).

Lewis gave zero shits: "It's not my job to look after Nico's race, it's my job to manage the car and bring the car home as healthy and as fast as possible. That's what I did."

2015 U.S. Grand Prix

If Lewis wins here he could also claim the title with three races to spare (you have to remember back then the title fight often went up to the last race so this was pretty cool)

Lewis very aggressively forced Rosberg wide at Turn 1 to claim the lead, and then there was some sexy fighting between the Mercs and Redbull all race. Nico led in the closing stages but made a mistake, running deep into a corner and letting Lewis past with only a handful of laps to go.

Nico finished P2 and had not only lost the race but the championship title. Nico was fuming, saying Lewis’ move at the start was “one step too far”.

This is the infamous cap throw in the cool down room. Lewis throws Nico his P2 hat, Nico straight up yeets it back at him. I tear up just thinking about it. They grow up so fast.

2016

Nico had came so close to winning and I guess this was just, the last straw. All or nothing. This year he literally gave it everything he had. Lewis and him stopped speaking, Nico gave up literally the rest of his life and even stopped sleeping in the same bed as his wife and taking care of his kids, instead spending every moment trying to get into Lewis’ head. Honestly, I think he might be the only one that could beat Lewis. Just because he knew him *so well*. He literally threw away like 16 years of friendship. But also it’s like, he had to be world champion. He *had to*. His dad was champion and his whole life he’s been preparing to win it too. Tough luck that he raced in the same era as Mr. Best Driver The Sport Has Ever Seen.

Nico won the last few races of 2015, and the first four races of 2016. Lewis had a couple car problems and Nico had a good lead on him in the championship.

2016 Spanish Grand Prix

Gentlemen. A short view back to the past. Nico had made a switch error on the formation lap causing the car to go into the wrong engine mode. So he was running a lot slower than Lewis, who was fighting to claim back the lead.

Nico closed the door to keep him back, and Lewis lost control on the grass, and spins into Nico and taking them both out of the race in the first lap. This is probably one of the most iconic crashes. I’m pretty sure there’s a clip of this somewhere in black and white with the titanic music over the top.

Niki Lauda blamed this one on Lewis (I guess even a supportive dad has to be critical sometimes) "Lewis is too aggressive. It is stupid, we could've won this race".

2016 Austrian Grand Prix

Nico had been struggling with a brake issue all race but was still on the way to win it. But in the last lap Lewis had caught him up and gone in for the overtake.

Typical Nico not taking any shit, refusing to be the guy that backs out and they collide. Lewis took the win and a damaged Nico dropped to fourth. From first. In the last lap.

Both of them blamed each other and tired dad team boss Toto Wolff threatened team orders in future races.

The stewards blamed Nico for the incident, issuing him two penalty points for failing to allow "racing room" and causing a collision.

2016 Abu Dhabi

In the final laps of the race, Lewis ignored team-orders from his race engineer and the technical director.

He deliberately slowed and backed Nico into the pack hoping they overtake him, and there would be enough of a points difference to win the title.

Nico finished second and won the title by five points.

And then,,, Nico announced a surprise retirement during the FIA prize giving ceremony.

Lewis’ response:

"This is the first time he's won in 18 years, hence why it was not a surprise that he decided to stop.” (We stan a petty king)

“But he's also got a family to focus on and probably wants to have more children. Formula One takes up so much of your time."

“In terms of missing the rivalry, of course because we started karting when we were 13 and we would always talk about being champions. When I joined this team, Nico was there, which was something we spoke about when we were kids. So it's going to be very, very strange, and, for sure, it will be sad to not have him in the team next year."

And now they are kind of on speaking terms but not really, they are both pretty private but I think they are at the ‘awkward small talk when we run into each other at the supermarket’ stage of the break up.

#this got a lot longer than it should have been #long post

[searchingwardrobes]

Ivory Runs Red: 5/6

First off, massive thanks to the @cssns​, my beta @demisexualemmaswan​, and my artist @cocohook38​. Cocohook created this amazing cover art, and she is working on something else too to go with this story. The rough sketch made my jaw drop, so I can’t wait for ya’ll to see it!

This part  is going to be a little long, but I need to address something that I got multiple comments about. Just bear with me; this is the only way I can think to clear things up. I was really surprised to see that some people were angry at David and Mary Margaret for not doing anything to find Emma and/or "allowing" her relationship with Neal. Others simply expressed things along the lines of "I hope you explain what David and Mary Margaret did about all this." The reason this reaction surprised me so much is because I thought it was clear that they HAD done something. Why would the Golds need to get rid of police files if the Swans never reported Emma missing? Why would issues of the newspaper be missing from the library if Emma's disappearance wasn't reported on? Obviously, David and Mary Margaret did something! As for Neal, they had no idea Emma was seeing him. If you'll recall, in a previous chapter, Emma told Killian she had to sneak out at night to meet Neal. So that wasn't Snowing's fault either. Also, how would any of these characters know what David and Mary Margaret did or didn't do for their daughter? This is almost a hundred years later, and Emma's memories are dulled from being a ghost for so long. The only way I could spell out clearly how Snowing handled their daughter's disappearance would be some sort of convoluted info-dump, and I didn't want to destroy the tone and mood of the story to do that. But just so everyone knows: Yes, Emma's parents were devastated. They did everything in their power to find her, never giving up hope (which is so in character for them!). They died still believing she was either still out there or that crimes against her had gone unpunished. It broke their hearts. The Golds spread rumors that Emma was some kind of slut who ran away with a guy, and the people of Storybrooke overall thought the Swans had gone crazy. So there it is, that's the back story that I just couldn't figure out how to fit in the story, lol.

I'm not mad at the questions, to be clear. I was just surprised by them. I guess I blame the show for ruining these two as parents the last couple of seasons. Maybe that's why everyone jumped on them so fast. I was also honestly worried that ya'll would be upset with me for not addressing the topic, hence this long explanation! No one was rude by any means, so don't go trying to defend me from nonexistent trolls, lol! My feelings have NOT been hurt. I simply wanted to address the questions that were asked and the misplaced anger toward Snowing. (Not anger towards me - but fictional characters!)

Okay, now that I've cleared all THAT up, let's get on with the next chapter, shall we? And I'll go ahead and warn you: this is gonna hurt . . .

Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …

Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)

Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @kmomof4​ @xhookswenchx​ @let-it-raines​ @bethacaciakay​ @tiganasummertree​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @spartanguard​ @welllpthisishappening​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kday426​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @carpedzem​ @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615​ @snidgetsafan​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @lassluna​ @distant-rose​ @courtorderedcake​ @winterbythesea​ @thesschesthair​ @killian-whump​ @thisonesatellite​ @batana54​ @it-meant-something​ @xsajx​ @therooksshiningknight​ @gingerchangeling​​

Chapter Five: Run

“You’ve got to tell them what you saw - what you’ve learned,” Killian pleaded. 

Graham shook his head, his curly hair falling in his eyes as he stared at the slender hands he clasped in his. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw sported far more facial hair than it normally did, and Killian didn’t have to ask if he’d slept in the past forty-eight hours. 

“They won’t believe me.”

Killian’s jaw clenched in frustration. “But if I saw Emma, and you saw her, then maybe they’ll believe -”

“That Belle saw a ghost push Mike Gaston off the troll bridge? They’ll believe that? Really?” Graham let out a sarcastic, bitter laugh. “You really are just a naive kid if that’s what you're thinking.”

“But you’re a cop!”

“I’m still only nineteen! They’ll think we’re just over-imaginative teenagers.” Graham paused, reaching up with one hand to trace the curve of Belle’s cheek as she slept in her drug-induced prison. “That will land us in rooms just down the hall with our own IV full of an antipsychotic cocktail. How will I help her then?”

“You’ve fallen in love with her.” It wasn’t a question. 

Graham sighed. “How could I not? And how could he -” He broke off, his blue eyes flashing. “I’m not sorry he’s dead. If I’d been there and saw him hurt her -”

“Shh, I wouldn’t say things like that. Not here.”

Killian’s gaze fell to the bruises around Belle’s neck, and he didn’t blame Graham at all. It terrified him to think what could have happened if Emma hadn’t shown up.

“History repeats itself,” he murmured under his breath. 

*************************************************

Killian had scarcely arrived at the bridge when headlights blinded him. He turned away, blinking, stumbling, refusing to be stopped. 

“Emma! Emma!” he shouted. He tripped and dropped his flashlight. It broke as it hit the ground, rolling to the edge of the bridge. Now all he could see was ebony before him and radiant luminescence behind him. 

His palms scraped against the asphalt as Liam hauled him to his feet. His brother gripped his upper arms so tightly it was almost painful, and he gave him a brief shake. 

“You’ve got to stop this!”

Killian fought him. “I have to see her!”

Liam had always been broader than Killian with an unfair advantage in all their childhood tussles. Even now, Killian was no match for him as he lifted him bodily with one arm and hauled him over to his car. 

“You need help!” Liam literally tossed him into the backseat. 

“I’m not going home!” Killian tried to scramble out, but Liam just shoved him back inside. 

“Good, because I’m not taking you home.”

*******************************************************

“Why won’t you be straight with us, kid?”

Killian glared at the detective with a cynical sneer. The psychiatrist on the cop’s left frowned at Killian’s attitude. The choice of words was cruel considering he was in a literal straightjacket. His vision of the two men was obscured by the long strands of dark hair before his eyes. Haircuts were apparently seen as a luxury on the psych ward. 

“I’ve answered all your questions,” Killian finally told them wearily, “you just don’t like what I had to say.”

“Because we want the truth,” the psychiatrist, Dr. Archie Hopper, said gently. He was clearly playing the part of “good cop.” Or “good doctor.” Whatever.

“I told you the truth.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Killian snorted a laugh. “Tell that to Mike Gaston.”

The detective’s voice took on a harsh, warning tone. “Mike Gaston was the victim of murder.”

“The victim!” Killian cried, his voice snapping up. “What about the bruises he put on Belle? Or the fact that I nearly died when he tied me to that bridge!”

The detective’s lips curled up in a lewd sneer as he lit a cigarette. “If some horny teenager likes it a bit rough, that’s none of my business.”

Killian fought his bonds, his jaw clenching at the detective’s insinuation. He was as bad as Neal Gold, maybe worse. He had to be pushing fifty at least, and a pot belly strained at his button up shirt. His eyes widened as Killian raged.

“Bothers you though, I see.” He leaned forward. “Nobody blames you for wanting her, kid. Nobody blames you for being jealous. But murder? That’s a different story.”

“I told you I had nothing to do with that!”

The detective glanced at Dr. Hopper, and the soft spoken psychiatrist took over. “Killian, start at the beginning for us. What did Belle say when she called you that night?”

“I’m telling you, she didn’t call me, she didn’t come to my house. I saw her early that afternoon at the library. That was it. Then my brother got a phone call that there had been an accident, and we came to the hospital.”

“You and Belle were at the library together a lot,” Hopper said softly, “what did you two do there?”

Killian rolled his eyes. He hated the patronizing way the man asked the question. “We studied. Did our homework. We were friends.”

The detective snorted again, and Killian wanted to scream. “Drop the act, kid. You really expect us to believe that you spent all that time with her, all that time with a hot chick, and you never fucked her?”

Dr. Hopper recoiled at the foul language, and Killian thought his own jaw might actually break. 

“You’re just as much a misogynistic, narrow-minded, neanderthal as Mike Gaston.”

The detective grinned and slapped Dr. Hopper on the knee. “You were right, shrink, this kid’s smart.” He took another puff of his cigarette as he eyed Killian. “Smart enough to plan an elaborate murder with your knocked-up girlfriend?”

“That’s the most ridiculous - wait - did you say knocked up?”

“Hm,” the detective mused, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his five o’clock shadow. “You didn’t know?”

Killian was horrified when a laugh slipped past his lips. Another bitter laugh followed, then another, until before he knew it, he was shaking with them. He was laughing hysterically while wearing a straightjacket. That thought made him laugh even more, and if he didn’t seem like a lunatic before, he sure as hell did now. 

“What the hell is so funny?” thundered the detective.

Killian’s laughter stopped abruptly and he leveled the man with an intense stare. “History repeating itself. That’s what’s so funny.”

A smile that he knew bordered on manic curled his lips. Yes, history had repeated itself, and this time, Emma Swan had won. 

************************************************************

They didn’t have enough to charge him, or Belle, or anyone else really with Gaston’s murder. It was officially declared an accident, and theoretically, Belle French and Killian Jones were free to move on. 

Killian wouldn’t say it was easy for Belle. She had severe trauma from that terrifying night, and she ended up losing the baby because of it. Nevertheless, she had Dr. Hopper’s patient help, her father’s support, and Graham’s unwavering devotion. Soon, though it would be a long time before she was truly healed, she was able to go home. 

Killian, on the other hand, didn’t really want to go home. For one, he, unlike Belle and Graham, refused to stop talking about Emma - refused to lie and say he made it up. He didn’t fault his friends for it; didn’t take it as a betrayal. He even understood their reasoning when they begged him to do the same and just play along, damn it. He simply couldn’t do it. Emma was too real, too precious. He knew her in a way they never would. He knew the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that go.

The psych ward wasn’t so bad. The drugs numbed him to the point that he sailed on a sea of oblivion half the time. He’d stopped fighting, so there was no more straight jacket, no more bed straps. 

And she came to him. Sometimes the drugs meant he wasn’t lucid enough to really carry on a conversation. On those nights, she curled up next to him on the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his cheeks. She pressed kisses to his lips, and sometimes he could respond in kind. 

Other times, though admittedly rare, they would talk. About everything and nothing at all. One night, they talked about their dreams for later, after high school, and suddenly Emma began to weep. 

“I know,” he soothed, brushing her forehead with a kiss, “you fear you can never have that. But maybe we can figure it out. If we somehow get the truth out. About your murder -”

Emma silenced him with a finger to his lips. “That isn’t it, Killian. It’s you. I have no more tomorrows but you can.”

His brow furrowed, and she sighed and soothed the lines away with the pad of her thumb. 

“But not if you keep holding onto me.”

His arms instinctively pulled her closer. “I’ll never let you go.”

She sighed, and sadness filled her eyes. She slipped out of his embrace and rose from the bed. Her skin grew white, her gown floated in an ethereal way at her feet. He frowned and scrambled to a sitting position. 

“I have to say goodbye,” she told him. She said it with an edge of discovery in her voice. Her lips turned up in a soft smile even as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

He shook his head and tried to reach for her, to leave the bed, but he had just enough drugs in his system to make his movements sluggish and ineffectual. 

“I won’t let you see me again.”

“No, Emma, please! I love you!”

“And I love you. That’s why I have to do this.” 

She was already fading away. Killian made a fist and slammed it into his thigh. Tears stung his eyes. 

“Be happy,” she told him, “for me.”

Then she was gone.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cssns21 #captain swan supernatural summer #ghost story #horror #strange lieutenant duckling #lol trust me #happy ending of sorts

[mari-beau]

GIVE ME A REASON: PART SIX - A Rogue One Fanfiction

This is a shorter installment, and maybe pointless… maybe I’m dragging this out too long… But also, who cares, I’m doing this for fun. I just love playing with them!

Read on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Six

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: Some coarse language. References to wounds. And… Cuddling?

Words: 1,720

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

The Death Star had come for them.

Again.

But Jyn couldn’t bring herself to care. It did seem a little strange to have been spared the last time only to probably be destroyed this time, barely a week later. But either way, it was the end to her life she now knew to be her fate, or whatever. It just felt right. It just was. Not the Death Star specifically, but,

Jyn Erso would die in Cassian Andor’s arms.

Whether it should’ve been on Scarif. Or it was here on Yavin 4. Or the next day. Or thousands of days in the future.

And there was a sort of peace in knowing that. One that allowed her to climb into his bed, slide her arms around him, and bury her face in his shoulder. He stirred and her heart skipped a beat. It was easier when he was unconscious, to consider how she felt about him, how she’d been attracted to men before, even had something akin to a relationship with one or two, but it had never felt like this.

“Jyn…?”

“Yes, it’s me. We’re on the base on Yavin 4. Safe. In your quarters.” It was easier to preempt any confusion or alarm Cassian experienced when he woke from his heavy, partially drugged, mostly just exhausted from his body’s healing, sleep.

“How long?” he asked, then realized there were static-laden voices broadcasting over the basewide intercom. “What’s going on?”

“You’ve been asleep for 12 hours,” Jyn said, moving closer and partially on top of him to prevent him from trying to get up in a rush and falling flat on his face. Also, she was admittedly afraid on some level, afraid to be alone and facing death. When he was near her, when they were physically entwined in some way, she felt like everything would be okay. Even if she died, if it was in Cassian’s arms, then everything would be okay. Irrational, yes. But that didn’t make it any less her truth.

“The Death Star is here,” she said, once she could tell he was awake enough to understand, not muddled by pain meds. “The Alliance is scrambling their forces to engage. They’re leaving the comms open, since you know…”

“We’re all dead if they fail.”

His arms wrapped around her and engulfed her in his warm embrace. Cassian Andor, a man who, she didn’t think she was wrong to guess, hadn’t received much at all in the way of affection in his life, somehow was so good at holding a person he made the pain of the universe go away, made the entire universe fade away except for his hands on her body, gentle and undemanding but also firm and reassuring, his breath hot on her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and his body beneath hers, so strong despite his injuries.

“Are you okay?” she asked, remembering the physical state of him.

“Mmm… Yes.” His hands tightened their grip on her side and shoulder, reflexively, a gentle squeeze as he murmured into her neck. “Feels good.”

He probably meant he felt fine, but oh, yes, it did feel good. Or maybe he was still quite medicated?

“My weight isn’t putting pressure on your injuries?” Jyn asked. “Maybe I should…”

“No.” Somehow he managed to pull her further into him, her breasts flattening against his chest, her hip practically fusing to his, her breath hitching momentarily and then joining the rhythm of his own breaths...in and out… in and out… in and out...

Cassian sighed, made a frustrated, growling sound.

“I need to use the ‘fresher,” he said, loosening his grip on her.

Jyn rolled off from him, swung her legs around to sit on the side of the cot and waited to see if Cassian could manage to stand. He slid to sit on the edge of the bed next to her and took a moment. She didn’t press him, though an instinct inside of her wanted to offer assistance, wanted to take care of him, wanted to ease the pain and struggle his recovery was.

He stood, again pausing for a moment, then walked slowly across the small room to his private refresher facilities. Apparently, it was one of very few benefits to his officer’s rank, for the small quarters were nothing more than a glorified closet. But she supposed it spared him from having to sleep in a large barracks with a bunch of others, not that it would’ve deterred Jyn in the least from crawling into his bed.

Part of her felt like she shouldn’t watch his laborious movements, out of respect, but she couldn’t look away. What if he needed her?

Force, what if he didn’t need her? Not like she needed him? Aw, fuck. She needed him.

She watched the muscles in his naked back twitch, stiff from inactivity and injury. But her eyes were inevitably drawn to the perfectly uniform lines of small circular marks running down his spine. She knew there was a matching sort of trail along his ribs. Injections of some sort of bacta cocktail meant to speed the fusing of the fractures in his vertebrae and ribs, injections straight into the bone. How painful would that have been if he’d been conscious, she couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but want to wrap her smaller body around as much of Cassian as she could, run her hands gently over his scars, old and new, make sure his wounds were healing and his bruises fading, hear him sigh contentedly against her skin, hold him forever.

As he disappeared into the ‘fresher, Jyn realized she was hopeless.

Cassian Andor had taught her about hope. And had made her absolutely hopeless at the same time.

But why fret about it? What did it matter?

Jyn was used to dealing with life moment by moment, day by day. And she might not have many more moments, anyway.

The loud, static-laden voices crackling over the basewide intercom announced the launch of yet another squadron of fighters, then abruptly switched over to some ship’s communication officer announcing visual confirmation of the target. The Death Star.

Looming on the horizon like a moon, a harbinger of death, bringer of eternal night. Cold, austere, which made it somehow more terrifying, somehow worse than staring down an angry brute about to put a knife in you. It was just so inevitable, indomitable. Made her feel so small, insignificant, so alone.

“Do you mind if I turn this off?”

Jyn startled. How had she not noticed Cassian reappear in the small room? He pointed at the comm, which was broadcasting the prelims of a battle to determine all their fates.

She didn’t want to listen to it either.

“Please do,” she said, already feeling less… alone.

She watched Cassian lean over to switch the speaker off, wincing in sympathy with him as he straightened again, taking a deep breath that expanded his chest and shifted the muscles beneath his skin, mesmerizing her more than a little. His mostly naked body preoccupied far too many of her thoughts.

But what else had she been supposed to do? She’d woken up drenched in sweat that first night in his quarters, had to strip out of the heavy infirmary clothes, found Cassian tossing in his sleep, nearly feverish, removed the sweltering clothes from his body, as well. Little did she know, how enthralling she’d find his lean muscles, the shape of his body, the feel of his bare skin, his-

His hands cupped her face and Jyn looked up at Cassian Andor, his kriffing gorgeous dark eyes fixed on her. His fingers swept some stray hair from her forehead, tucked it behind her ear, returned to swipe gently over the nearly-healed scar above her eyebrow, in her hairline.

“Are you okay?” A knot formed in her throat. Cassian was a good man, despite every questionable thing he’d done and tortured himself over. Of course he would care about her wellbeing. It didn’t mean-

“Ow!”

“Your blaster wound still hurts?” His fingers feathered over her shoulder, not touching the freshly healed injury this time.

“It does when you jab your finger in it.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged his hand away, throwing him off balance so that he fell into her and she managed to catch him and ease him onto the bed, right where she wanted him.

A chuckle escaped him and he smiled, making something flutter inside of her. And then he was reaching for her, pulling her close.

His embrace was everything she’d never known she’d wanted. His hands stroked her back and he buried his face in her neck, nuzzling a sensitive spot just behind and below her ear.

She sighed, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying the fingers of her other hand in his messy, soft hair. She pressed gently as she massaged his scalp down to his nape, eliciting a hum of pleasure from him that vibrated against her bare skin and into her flesh.

If this was to be her last moment, Jyn held no regrets. It was a good moment.

“Jyn?” His voice had a lethargic but happy edge to it, thick and low and sleepy. She could sympathize.

“Yes?” She twisted her finger in a lock of hair curling about his neck.

“Please don’t let me sleep so long this time.” His whisper tickled her ear. “No more than 10 hours. Okay? Please?”

He wanted her to wake him up in 10 hours… Like there wasn’t a battle raging in space nearby… Like he didn’t believe they were quite probably going to die soon, incinerated by a weapon her own father helped design. Like he didn’t believe they were going to lose, after all. Somehow, he believed they would be there, together, ten hours from this moment.

Hope.

Such a man as Cassian… The most unexpected thing she’d discovered about him was his belief in hope. That he possessed any at all after all he had done, all he had seen. And then he’d given it to her.

And again, it warmed her, deep inside, that small seed of hope. She snuggled closer to the man, hoping for something she couldn’t even begin to conceive of. But yearned for it, with every fiber of her being.

#fic: Give Me A Reason #Rogue One #fanfiction #rebelcaptain #my fic #Cassian Andor #Jyn Erso #Cassian x Jyn