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#phew i went off on this
destisea-a · 4 months
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@scrtilegii asked: ' are you certain about this? about us? ' the inquiry is offered softly, as they take refuge from the world in trey's room. it is beautiful to have wuya there, in his life. to him, life will be kind, and ever blessed with such love. yet, the truth of own mortality cannot be altered. ' if you accept to be with me, i'm afraid you're going to face lots of pain. do you really believe that what we have can outgain all that hurt for you, wuya? ' ( im sorry rhys but our convi is making me FERAL )
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wuya is beginning to realize he enjoys every dorm but his own. heartslabyul even has qualities he admires, more than diasomnia. perhaps it is his upbringing; growing up in the moors, a fae folk realm full of color and life. the stone castle walls just don't feel like home to him. trey's room though... it was nice. it looked nice, and smelled nice. and it had this nice canopy bed he could hide on. he really ought to get a canopy of his own in his room...
his attention is caught again, pulled from his thoughts. trey's question strikes him as odd at first. of course he's certain, he has to be. but maybe... he has become too far caught up in the moment. he forgot--
humans don't live very long.
it's funny almost, that that he's the one pointing this out. another glaring reason that disproves wuya's old belief that humans were all opportunistic and cruel. he cares enough to remind him that this is going to be short. the idea of outliving trey makes him quite uncomfortable really. how long do humans normally live anyway? 50? 100 years? That's a blip on his radar, and his heart will never fully open to anyone else ever again. not like this anyway.
ah... his guardian had warned him about these things. for different reasons of course but, she did. told him that they are not worth it, that the time spent and effort given was going to be fleeting.
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" did you know... " he squeezes a small pillow in his arms. " fae only really fall in love once in their life. it's a pretty big deal, and we don't always get to choose or decide when it happens. " it falls into place naturally, and means much more than what a lot of human ideas of love do. " i think... no matter what we are. no matter where this goes... so long as i can be a part of your life- yes. it will be worth it. " pillow still in his hands, the raven scoots a little closer. moving one hand to rest it against trey's forearm. " forever from now, i'll still believe that. "
wuya isn't really sure how to express what love is to his kind. it's hard. but he hopes trey doesn't feel guilty, or bad for him. despite the impending loss, and grief that he will have to deal with. no matter what their relationship is- he's grateful to even have it. it's impacted him more than trey realizes. " so don't worry about that, okay? i am certain, i've never been more certain about anything in my life. "
unprompted
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chernabogs · 1 month
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Belladonna, Forget-me-not, Hyssop, dwarf sunflower 🌻
ouagh thank you for sending a request <3 check out the list here! <3
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Inc: Lilia (both present and general), Reader, Silver, Sebek mention WC: 3.5k Warnings: War mention, arson, crimes committed during war time (all my homies hate Silver Owls). Lilia cussing, as he should. Flowers: Belladonna (a confession given without words aka we are pining mentally in the club), Forget me not (the one thing I remembered and how it brought me back to you), Hyssop (one last walk through a house—sort of), Sunflower, dwarf (how many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?). Some flexibility with these. Summary: A trinket he had forgotten pulls him down a path of memories that he wishes he could forget.
There’s a sunflower in the garden this year. 
He thinks it’s quite curious when he first sees the bud, its petals still closed tight as though afraid to enter the world. He’s standing outside of the front door of his cottage with a mug in hand as he gives it a scrutinizing look. The silence of the forest surrounding his home lets him focus ample attention on how this oddity came to be. Silver has run to town and won’t be back until the evening, aiding Sebek in purchasing school supplies for the coming year, and Malleus is likely packing in his eagerness to get out of the palace for another ten months. 
It’s just Lilia, his mug, and the sunflower. 
“Shy, are we?” He murmurs in amusement as he raises the mug to his lips before they twist to a wry grimace. Perhaps being alone is not good for him—he’s beginning to speak to his gardens like an old man already. 
He wisely turns heel and re-enters the cottage as he downs the bitter coffee before discarding the mug in the sink. He’ll wash the dishes before Silver gets home, only because he knows the boy will do it all himself if he doesn’t, which would do nothing but make Lilia feel guilty. Silver insists it’s fine, he’s happy to help his father—but it shouldn’t be that way. His brow furrows in dissatisfaction as he weaves through the cottage's halls to arrive at his bedroom.
Contrary to his room at NRC, this one is so barren it looks downright unoccupied, like no one has ever lived in it to begin with. Lilia had moved most of his valuables with him when he had received notice of his pending enrolment alongside Malleus. This at least makes sorting out what he’s to wear today much easier as he pulls open the closet to peer inside. His fingers dance along the various fabrics as he hums, and haws, and already knows he’s going to wear the same outfit he wears essentially every day.
Lilia Vanrouge has become a man of consistency—another factor that serves to paint him as ‘old’. 
“Decrepit, even,” he grumbles to himself as he tosses his clothes onto the bed. Perhaps he can spice it up a bit to combat these self-perpetuated accusations through the application of an accessory. The thought pleases him enough to make him reach for the top shelf of his closet, his hand hitting against objects and shoving things around in his bid to grab something useful. Maybe he would have benefited from just floating up to see what he needed to get, because his hand soon hits an item that topples off the shelf and nearly clocks him in the face.
“Shit!” He snarls as he moves back. The box clatters to the floor by his foot with a loud rattle, causing him to glare down at it accusingly. His eyes narrow as another low curse slips out and he fumbles to pick the box up. 
It’s made of carved wood—oak, by the weight of it. Each etching along the sides paints a tale that draws Lilia to a stop as he turns it over in his hands. A figure perched on a tree branch with another sitting beneath, a blade and wood in hand. The two figures are next in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. Then they are standing beside each other by a body of water; the carving here is detailed enough that he can see apprehension in one’s gaze and sternness in the others. 
The final carving is incomplete, only because a blackened char mark has burnt the wood to an unusable state. 
Ah.
He remembers why he didn’t take this to NRC. He remembers why he had it shoved in the back of the closet like something rotten, something meant to be concealed. He feels his mood darken as he turns the box over again. Each nick, each mark, tells a tale of something that stirs a burning shame in his gut. His hands tighten enough that he hears the wood creaking under his strength before they relax once more. 
Then, he pauses. Silver won’t be back until far later in the day. He has nothing to do but wash a mug that now sits fermenting in his sink. Beyond this, he’ll simply be wandering from room to room in his cottage like a ghost, perhaps cutting some firewood, perhaps seeing if the bloody quails that have been tormenting his vegetable gardens are back. 
Lilia moves until the back of his knees hit his bed and he sits down, cradling the box more gently now. A sudden urge—a bit of masochistic curiosity—tugs at his heart as his lips curl into a sneer. His thumb brushes against the carving of the figure crouching in the tree. 
Well, if he needs a good way to kill an hour or so. 
“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.” 
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The memory begins as it always did any time that he did this. He’s just over 300 years old, his hair long and his body perched on the branches of a tree. He forgot that if he’s personally in the memory, his magic has a habit of tossing him headfirst directly into his body again. The scent of pine overwhelms him as he looks across a Briar Valley that once was just as full of life as he. Green, as far as the eye can see, and the songs of birds that have since gone extinct filling the warm air. 
He shifts on the branch and closes his eyes for a moment as he drinks it all in. Things long since gone, things he wishes he could experience just one more time in his current life. He almost loses himself in the memory—a dangerous risk—before he hears the faint sound of scraping from beneath where he’s perched.
Lilia’s eyes snap open and his gaze travels down to see a figure with a cloak sitting against the pine tree, their hood pulled up as their hands expertly carve a piece of wood with their blade. He can’t quite tell what it is they’re making—and truthfully, he’s long since forgotten. 
But the sound of their voice as they hum an old folk song he hasn’t heard since the war times makes him tense all the same. 
You.
Fuck.
The uncomfortableness of the situation, the realization that perhaps doing this was a mistake on his part, makes him shift back on the branch. This is enough to make a few twigs snap and force your attention to jerk upwards to where he lay. His red gaze locks onto yours as every sound in the forest falls silent and all he knows is the confusion in your eyes. 
“How long have you been up there?” You blurt out, your voice sounding exactly how he hears it in his dreams for the past four hundred years. A strangled sound leaves his throat, and with all of the energy he can muster, Lilia jerks himself free of the memory. 
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He stutters for air as his eyes open once more and he grips the box tight. The carving of his body on the branch overlooking yours at the base is now just a mockery for things he foolishly lost. The only way he can know you now is through the use of magic, and even that cannot return you entirely. 
He shouldn’t be doing this. A glance at the clock on the wall tells him he was in the memory for fifteen minutes, despite it feeling only like mere seconds. 
He shouldn’t be doing this. He turns the box over in his hand to look at the next carving. The two figures in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. He notes with a bitter amusement that they’re all sunflowers.
The box should go back on the top shelf. He should lock it away again and forget it, leave it for Silver to find only once his father is dead and rotting under the earth. Perhaps the boy can finish what the humans started—burning it to nothing but cinders. 
He shouldn’t be doing this to himself, and yet… 
“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.” 
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Lilia finds himself standing in a small cottage eerily reminiscent of his own. He knows a few months have passed since the first encounter by the way there’s snow falling heavily from the skies outside. Briar Valley’s winters are vicious—as untamed as the land itself once had been before metal teeth had torn it apart and left the fae to clean its viscera. His gaze travels to the window nearby to look out at the landscape before it’s drawn upwards to the flowers hanging down from the sill. 
Sunflowers, which look as fresh as the day they were likely picked, paint a cheery picture against the bleak backdrop beyond. 
“I am afraid it isn’t quite perfect, but it should do the trick to warm you up.” Your voice's soft cadence causes his shoulders to tense as he doesn’t turn around to face you. He can hear you humming, the sound of a bowl being set on a nearby table, and the aroma of something so intoxicating it makes his stomach twist in phantom hunger. “Why were you rushing through this blizzard to begin with?”
Lilia blinks as silence falls. You’re waiting for his response. This likely won’t play out unless he gives it.
“Her majesty bid me to deliver a missive to Princess Meleanor.” He murmurs, eyes still fixated on the sunflower. They almost look real to him despite the knowledge that this is nothing but an illusion. He hears you hum in disapproval. You often did that—hummed a lot, laughed a lot.
“Terrible weather to be doing so, but I suppose if it’s urgent, you can’t sit on it. At least have something to eat before you go braving Briar Nation once more.” 
His head turns slightly so that he can catch a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision. Your back is to him as you scoop more food into a second bowl. You’re not unique—just another fae in a nation of many—but you stand out to him. Four hundred years later, he still struggles to rationalize why. 
“You must like sunflowers a lot.” He comments abruptly. He didn’t say this in the memory, and he can tell by the way it seems to stutter around him. You still turn and look at him in confusion, however. “You only have sunflowers hanging on your window.”
“Oh!” You seem surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces your face. He wishes he had never seen that again. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 
He wants to say something, perhaps ‘I know’, but the memory melts away before the words can leave his tongue.
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Lilia tastes copper when his eyes snap to the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes have gone by now—another fifteen in the previous memory. His hands shake slightly as he turns the box over like a man under a compulsion. The carving of two figures by the water seems to be taunting him as his thumb traces across your body. 
He doesn’t even bother speaking the phrase clearly this time. It comes as a mumble, and suddenly he’s falling into darkness again. 
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Tension is palpable when Lilia opens his eyes. Although it’s spring, the warmth seems nonexistent in the air as deafening silence fills where he stands. You’re by his side, your arms crossed tight over your chest as you stare at the pond beyond. By your feet, a patch of sunflowers smiles up at the bright skies above.
“How much longer do you think it will last before they wipe it clean?” You ask, your voice containing barely concealed rage as your nails dig into your sleeves. His jaw clenches as he shrugs one shoulder.
“A week. A month. A year. It could be any amount of time. They have new machines that they’ve been using—new means to rip open our nation to reach its heart.” He scoffs and turns sharply. “Fucking humans. Why did they need to come here to begin with? We were fine before they came crawling onto our shores, with their bitching, and moaning, and noxious fucking machines!”
“Lilia.” Your voice is calmer as he feels your hand touch his arm. His fury simmers slightly under this action. “At least we’re gaining some ground against them, right? And they haven’t reached all of Briar Nation yet. I can still provide game and herbs to the neighbouring villages—there’s an abundance surrounding my cottage.” 
Lilia wants to say that’s because all of the animals are being driven deeper into the woods, but he holds his tongue as he meets your steadfast gaze. In the period of time since he’s come to know you, he’s also realized that your stubbornness will have you refuting every claim with an optimistic one of your own. Already you had staunchly refused to leave your cottage despite the looming threat drawing ever so nearby.
“I need to go soon.” He finally sighs as he tears his gaze away from you to the pond again. He hasn’t seen this pond since the war era simply because he knows it was drained for the Silver Owls' use. He hears your own sigh slip out as you remove your hand. The skin that you touched aches in its absence. 
He steals a glance at you and tries to preserve your side-profile in his mind. If he could, he would carve it onto every surface he possessed, marking every line and bump that comprised the masterpiece that is you to his liking. He has already devoted himself by this point to mapping these curves with his fingers under the shadow of Briar Nations endless nights. He has memorized every sound you make, as sweet as any song can be, and which places on your body elicit such music. You had both entered this dance as a means to release stress—but now, four hundred years later, he knows it meant so much more. 
He wants to sweep you in his arms. He wants to pull you to safety, to silence your protests with hushed whispers and utterances of his devotion. He wants to pour his heart into your hands until he’s empty and belonging entirely to you. He is a man who, once he devotes himself to something, gives endlessly until he remains a ghost of who he once was.
He loves you in this moment, where the sun dapples your skin, and he can pretend he’s still in the Briar Nation he knew. So, he breaks conduct again. 
“You should leave.” The memory wavers at his words. In the past, he had simply turned at this point to begin returning to your cottage so that he could ready his travel pack. “You should go to the next village over. Go somewhere safe.”
The memory wavers again, fraying along the edges, and yet still Lilia finds himself persevering. “Please. I don’t want to see what’s going to happen next.” 
You turn to look at him as his vision begins to darken. Your brow furrows, confusion etching your face as the last words you speak feel like a nail in his own coffin. 
“Lilia, this is my home.”  
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He doesn’t immediately speak as he comes back again. The clock shows forty-five minutes have passed now, and the lighting in the bedroom he sits in has altered to reflect this. A numbness has crept into his body and settled just below his skin. It fluctuates and writhes like an insect and causes him to shiver as he rotates the box once more.
The last carving is incomplete. The black marks that mar its surface guarantee this. Faintly, he can smell smoke on both the box and his hands as he traces his thumb across this, as well.
It comes back filthy. 
Lilia’s expression schools itself to a blank look as the silence of the empty cottage perpetuates. Only his breathing breaks the still air, stuttering slightly as his lips part. 
“... far cry cradle.” 
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Lilia can smell it before he sees it. Wood, smouldering in the unforgiving winter sun, accompanied by something more pungent and feral. He’s already running by the time he snaps into the memory, his feet dragging through heavy snow as he fights against the elements to reach the treeline. He can see dark smoke pluming upwards.
It’s always too late by the time he arrives. 
His steps slow, his feet drawing to a stop as cold snow soaks through his pants. Before him lays a painting of carnage, crafted by human hands, and displayed for the eyes of any fae passing by. Footsteps trample in the aged snow that surrounds the smouldering husk of the structure. Your words regarding your cottage being in a hot spot for game and herbs ring as a mockery now in his ears as he slowly, slowly, inches closer. 
“Hello?” His voice cracks as the words leave him. The forest echoes them back—hello? Hello? Hello?
Stone dust scatters across the white earth as his hand comes to touch the frame you had been so proud of when you had first shown it off. Burnt, with embers still smouldering in the wood. He feels afraid to step further, but he knows that if he doesn’t then he’ll never get the satisfaction of knowing whether you may have survived it or not. 
Lilia passes through the door frame. He looks up to what remains of your roof, to the space where sunflowers once hung, and then just beyond the large wooden table you had carved for yourself as well. A small box sits perfectly on its blackened surface, like it had been placed on display intentionally for his discovery. 
The memory begins to blur at this point. Things that should be there soon bleed into black outlines, dripping down onto the floor with a rhythmic thump. He can see static in what looks like the shape of an arm peeking out from behind the table leg as his stomach twists, and rage begins to flood through his veins in place of blood. A stuttering breath leaves him as the static arm remains still.
He is General Lilia Vanrouge. He is a soldier. He is meant to protect his people, and yet, and yet—
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Lilia snaps out of this memory by throwing the box to the floor. It clatters at his outburst before he kicks it viciously into the closet, his breath leaving him in ragged gasps as he does. His mind is a blur as his one hand grips the sheets beneath him and the other grabs his collar, trying to ground him in the moment before the whole world spins out of proportion. 
He is not General Lilia Vanrouge. He is not a soldier. He is not walking into the home of the person he thought he loved, forced to bury what was left of them in a pauper's grave—just another loss in the wartime. 
He is a man, sitting in his cottage, with a son who will be home by evening and a school he needs to pack for. 
“Fuck,” he groans, pressing his face into his hands as he shakes himself free of the thoughts. “Fuck... fuck!”
A brief glance at the clock shows an hour has passed by now. His chest feels heavy, and his mind full of cotton as he dresses in a mechanical manner before going about his chores for the day.
By the time Silver returns, he’s fought off the quails, weeded the garden, cut firewood, and cleared the gutters. What he hasn’t done is clean the mug that’s been sitting in the sink since the morning—a task that Silver happily takes on after Lilia looks close to losing it.
If his son notices anything else off about his father, he says nothing about it, but Lilia does note the way Silver seems a bit more talkative than usual this evening. Lilia’s mind continues to replay the memories he experienced in a macabre theatrical viewing as he tries hard to listen to what Silver is saying. Eventually, they both fall silent as Silver washes the mug, along with the dishes from dinner in addition. The sun is beginning to set when he pauses to peer out the window with a curious expression.
“Did you see the sunflower in the garden?” Silver asks, his voice soft as he finishes drying off the mug. Lilia raises an eyebrow as he looks up again.
“What about it?” 
“It opened up.” Silver looks surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces his face. Lilia’s eyes widen as he notes the similarities between the childish joy on his son's face, and that which he once saw on your own.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
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asteraws · 1 year
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hunter and the apothecary
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pristine-rose · 2 years
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fun fact as an actual real life for money lab assistant, I feel like his lab safety habits are ATROCIOUS and it gives my degen brain so many ideas that I can't quite articulate on mobile.
he'd fuck you on the lab bench knowing that you'd spent hours micropipetting analyte that was 1) crucial to the current research project and 2) required to remain sterile. knowing perfectly well that after he left you a mess on the table, you'd have to start the process all over again, leaving you stuck in his scary ass lab for who knows how long.
there’s something about getting downright messy that’s so hot, right? even more attractive that it’s coming from a harbinger of power that should display regality and perfection, not to mention utter diplomacy.
/ nsfw utc
growing up learning lab safety was one we all went through during schooling; however, feeling that thrown out the window when he forces your body down on the metal table—stomach and chest splashing various substances—is very arousing for some reason beyond you. it’s also the fact you were just working on that project, one that he himself is forcing you to do.
and now all those chemicals are mixed somewhere on your body as he pounds into you from behind. it’s a mixed feeling of despair for losing all your hard-worked process, but also the cold bite of pleasure coming from behind you. it doesn’t help that the only thing ringing through your ears are mishaps:
his low grunts behind you, the movement of fabric. your own shallow voice and the shatter of glass as test tubes fall off the table.
you know he’ll leave you to pick them up—and the smell of chemicals makes it all the more unbearable yet pleasures at the same time. it makes you lightheaded, barely able to register his big, gloves hand that comes pressing down on your bare back, which was stained and wet with some substance you likely spilled. test tubes and other items lay pressed between your skin and the table, but he doesn’t care, even as they crack and fall when he fucks you over your hard work
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fried-manto · 2 years
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i don’t know if you where asked this yet- but opinions on each character?
If you meant each character, theres only really like, *counts fingers*-9 characters I care about in the OMORI game-
So I'll just give you a run down of my opinions for these 9 lucky peons starting from my least favourite to my favourite I guess.
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.. its complicated.
My feelings about Sunny is so turbulent that I honestly don't really know how to feel about him most of the time. This is the best I could describe it.
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He's cute, and his flower crown is so fun to draw and colour.
But I hate him. And love him at the same time. Most of all, I genuinely pity him for living.
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She's just too... she hits way too close to home.
Aubrey, like me, is a hypocrite who does things impulsively. I hate how I'd probably do the same thing if I was in her shoes.
And Headspace Aubrey just has this pretentious tone of speaking that I definitely have (no matter how sincere I try to sound), so I can't even tell if she's kinning me or I'm kinning her anymore
Also fanfic writers, except for the few exceptions, cant for their lives write her right. Like do you guys just write Aubrey in there for the Sunburn????
Now on to my top 3
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I draw her so much... way too much... 大姐我爱你。。。
TOP 2 is tied between
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SLAY. QUEEN. SLAY.
Even tho she got her heart sweeped #heartsweep she's the queen in my heart 🎇
I'm probably like the #2 Sweetheart fan, right behind @lesleyn lmao
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EUGH, IM CURRENTLY IN A HERO OBSESSION AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHHHHHH AJSBWUJSNDNSKDJEH.
OH HERO YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH. YOU DESERVE TO GO BATSHIT AND YOU DESERVE TO GO INTO A YBM PHASE, BECAUSE I WILL STILL LOVE YOU AND SUPPORT YOU. 💔💔
Oh Hero... someone please feed me some Hero content PLEASE.
NOW ONTO THE TOP 1 WHICH TIED BETWEEN THESE THREE.
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So I didnt really care about him all that much in the begining BUT THEN
Hikikomori route.
S P A C E - E X H U S B A N D
And then there was this Spaceboy centric fic that's about him stumbling into blackspace and realising the truth and i-
AND I FELL, HEAD OVER HEELS- COMPLETELY IN LOVE, LIKE MARRY ME PLEASE TYPE OF LOVE.
You are too good for SWEETHEART, my queen is mine and you are mine as well.
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K E L
Just Kel.
The core of The Gang (sorry Mari, you got outshoned here)
Reblog if you agree.
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And then there was one. The king of headspace and my heart 🖤🤍
I actually dont know why I love him so much, maybe he really is just the better version of Sunny (IN MY OPINION) he just gives off this empty, empty, depressing feeling that I love oh so much
and maybe one part of me is just super bitter with the fact that A03 writers always write Omori as this villain.
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one-winged-dreams · 8 months
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@goldenworldsabound
InHAAAAAAALE OKAY
So back when Barret and Marlene were living on the streets of Midgar, insert was a failure of a merc in that he was too soft-hearted to take payment for half of his jobs. His clientele was largely people who had fallen on hard times and were having trouble with debt collectors. As soft as he is, he can also be pretty scary because he was gifted a unique weapon (Sorry Squall, I'm usurping you as first gunblade user in Final Fantasy) and he uses it well. He meets Barret and Marlene, both looking exhausted because Barret was trying to find a safe place for them during the night, and all it took was seeing a little girl and her loving father to be like "It's still on the street, but you can stay here if you want. I'll keep watch while you two get some rest." Barret was SUPER skeptical at first like "I don't even know you, how am I supposed to trust you?" "I mean, you don't have to." and then some passing old lady was like "Don't you talk to Adriel like that, he's a good young man!" "Okay okay!"
And they DID stay in his little alley, and he DID keep watch over them during the night. The next morning Barret was a little embarrassed because he had been so abrasive and VII!Adriel was like "Don't worry about it! You need to keep your daughter safe. But the offer still stands if you ever need a place to stay. And they would go to stay with him a few times, and Barret even began to trust him enough to leave Marlene with him while he went to go look for work.
They parted ways when Barret found Tifa and Seventh Heaven, VII!Adriel turning him down to come with them because he would feel bad if he wasn't around to help people. When Barret got Avalance together, he was one of the first people he went to to hire him. He graciously accepted on the condition that he gets to keep patrolling his usual area. He becomes good friends with everyone, though! And even closer than that with Barret. 👀
AND THEN THE PLATE FUCKING FALLS, and then the main party runs into him having a fucking freakout that he wasn't there to save anyone. Barret has to talk sense into him, even though he's ALSO upset, and it ignites the fire of vengeance in him so he joins the party askgdjskah.
He's simultaneously very kind but a hardass about recklessness. Like, not in a 'we can't do this, it's too dangerous!' way, but an 'if any of you even THINK of needless sacrifice I'm going to formally introduce you to the floor'. Which is rich coming from him, considering he used to sacrifice his livelihood cause he was too soft to make people pay for his services. Needless to say, he has numerous heart attacks throughout the game askjdgh.
BUT YEAH. He's a gunblade-wielding champion of the people. Sort of. He never actually saw himself as a hero, and neither did anyone else. Just a really nice and kind of stupid dude.
AND I ACTUALLY HAVE EVER CRISIS DOWNLOADED, it's just like all the other app games I've got and I keep forgetting to play it kajsgdh
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queenie-arts · 1 year
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Me? Stealing a lore character from mhy for my own purposes? Of course 💕. This time its the Goddess of Flowers herself
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katierosefun · 10 months
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hi!! kind of a weirdly specific question but i was wondering what kind of clubs/extracurriculars you did in your undergrad that you decided to include on your law school applications? i'm in a couple clubs but with the new school year coming up i'm trying to broaden my horizons so to speak :)
hi anon!! thanks for the ask--i'm always glad to offer any advice/share about law school and applying to law school, just because i know how hella stressful that time period can be!
i included all the clubs that i had some position in--which was easy, because by the time i was applying to law school, i was on the leadership team for all the orgs i was a part of. so for me, that was the school newspaper, the literary magazine, as well as a religious group. but on top of that, i also included some heavy research projects that i did--because in my junior and senior years of college, i pursued a research fellowship that had to do with criminal law. i also included internships that i held (like teaching poetry to kids in the juvenile justice system), part-time jobs (an office position, a theater position), and the like.
so, outside of those research fellowships + internships, there's probably not a lot here that might seem obviously relevant to a law school application. however, the beauty of law school--as i'm sure you already know--is that you don't have to pursue a specific major or have a specific background in order to go to law school. however, i do think that the organizations i was a part of demonstrated to law schools that
a) i have decent time management skills (because doing research, as well as working two part-time jobs, and being on the e-board for three different orgs while applying to law schools demonstrates that) and
b) i have a genuine appreciation and interest in writing (because my orgs were very specific to that) and
c) i know how to collaborate with different people.
so really, if the orgs you're a part of have something that can demonstrate those kinds of traits, then i'd say you're in good shape. (now, of course, if you write something in your law school personal statement that you want to go to law school to pursue . . . idk, patent prosecution work, then i would hope you had something on your resume to demonstrate that: like maybe you were a part of a science-based org or you're pursuing a degree in a hard science, something like that).
tl;dr: i included all my orgs, which was easy, because i had leadership roles in all of the orgs i was actively involved in / don't worry about finding the club that would impress law schools the most subject-matter wise--just make sure you've got something to talk about via those clubs, especially with regards to leadership, collaboration, etc. and also, don't forget about the relevance of any research projects / thesis projects / part-time jobs!
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lostspacegirl · 9 months
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what a lovely fall day to be stuck in bed sick as hell
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yeahxsurexokay13 · 24 days
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wagnifesting - lando norris
summary: y/n is lando's best friend but everyone keeps manifesting for her to be something more.
warning: like 2 swear words.
fc: sophia weber
hope you like it!! x
y/n.y/l 📍monaco
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Liked by pierregasly and 327.085 others
y/n.y/l 72h in monaco 🍝🍾🏁🖤
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username Lando's biggest supporter 🧡
username the pic with kika is so cute aww!! ❤️ by author
username last slide is giving date
username she went to dinner with kika and alex! kika posted about it 😊
username Pretty 😍
username MY BOI LANDO!!!! LETS GOOOO ❤️ by author
francisca.cgomes Missed youuuuu ❤️❤️
y/n.y/l missed u more lindaaaa ♥️
username if you ever need someone to carry your bags on these trips, I volunteer as tribute (please)
alexandrasaintmleux Sooo good to see you ❤️
y/n.y/l you too lovelyyy ♥️
username you're so pretty it's unreal omg
username tired of pretending i don't pray it's a confirmation post everytime i get the notification that you've posted
landonorris See you again in 10 years when you decide to come to another race
y/n.y/l let me know when you plan on winning so i can go to that one x
username shE DID NOT
username omg savage
username she's my favourite wag and she's not even one! @/landonorris put an end to that 🫣🫣
username PAPAYAAAAA 🧡 you ate with that outfit
29 May 2023
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landonorris
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landonorris Nothing better then a day with friends. First time trying wakeboarding 🤙🏼 Edited
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username so ummmm i think this is him doing something @/username 👁️👄👁️
username i cheered
username bro really said let me fix the mess i made and posted that last pic
username Lando I wasn't prepared
username Best way to spend a day off :)
username he still has a y/n phew
username it's been a tough 2 days for y/nlando nation
y/n .y/l than*** you edited it and it's still wrong you muppet
landonorris I'm blocking you ❤️
username aw young love
username love to see it
username a day off with friends, but y/n is the only one who gets a special mention 😌😌😌
11 June 2023
y/n.y/l
📍 silverstone circuit
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y/n.y/l silverstoneeeeeeeeeeee 🏎️ podium for my boy at his home race!!! (((:
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username Another amazing race for him, congrats!
username "mY bOY" !!!!!!!!!!!!! ok i'm totally chill about this
username You looked incredible yesterday!!!💖
username no one provides us with lando content quite like you we need you to attend every single race weekend !!!
username THE SECOND TO LAST PIC HAHAHA
maxfewtrell Sorry, but were you there by yourself or?
y/n.y/l it did feel like i was with how much p and you were ignoring me to be all lovey dovey with each other (🤢)
maxfewtrell is that jealousy speaking?
username EXPOSED 🫢
username please just date already
username so happy for him grabbing that podium spot at silverstone 🧡
landonorris P2 AND A TROPHY BABYYYYY ❤️ thank you y/n/n
y/n.y/l ♥️
username see this is why punctuation is so important 🫢🫢
username @/username i don't get it?
username @/username there's no comma so we could say baby is being used to address y/n!!!!!
username @/username delusion 2 - 0 common sense !!!!
09 July 2023
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y/n.y/l posted a story!
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confetti-critter · 1 year
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A thing I always do is go to some place where I gotta choose something with no clear idea of what I want (going to the library or a candy store etc) and thinking I'm gunna walk in there and see something and know immediately that ~that's the thing I want~ but that never happens so I spend a very long time meandering around that particular place
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finniestoncrane · 2 months
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Big Iron
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 650 lmao no one is allowed to yell at me for the pun in the title (get it... cos blood tastes like iron??? PHEW) ANYWAY cooper howard eats people and enjoys the taste of blood so uh... eating someone out when they're on their period? winner winner delicious fuckin dinner for him, plus a healthy dose of romantic cannibalism🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of cannibalism, period sex, oral sex, drinking/tasting blood, blood play
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Your fingers scratched at the thin mattress below you, catching on a spring that burst through the frayed fabric. Something to claw on to, to cling to, as your orgasm rolled over you, pulling back like the waves before a tsunami.
Sensing the imminent climax, Cooper cruelly pulled his head back from you, catching your eye as you looked down to see why he had stopped. With a wink, he dropped his tongue out past his chapped lips and ran it around his mouth. Wagging the long, pink muscle out, you could see the blood collected on it, smears of it still on his face.
"Why... why'd you stop?"
Panting. Pathetic. You were desperate for him to continue, to place his face flat against you, clit hooded by the cavity where his nose had been, tongue hungrily lapping at you. Even as you asked him, you could hear the whine in your voice. And his answer only made you tense up further.
"Because, darlin'... I like to savour my meals."
Why you had expected anything less was a mystery. Every month, right on schedule, your period arrived and Cooper went hysterical. Frenzied, like an animal in heat, as though he could smell the changes in your body. Blood lust driving him. He would claw at you any minute you were alone, tearing your clothes off to taste you, like he did now.
His fingers teased along your red, swollen lips, venturing into your cunt as you clenched around him, grateful for more of his touch. But it was over in a moment, as he withdrew his digits and held them out in front of him, admiring the way your blood, thick, dark and red, dripped slowly down them.
Placing them in his mouth, he sucked your juices off with a soft moan, eyelids closed to offer some sensory deprivation. All he wanted to experience was your taste. The metallic tang that coated his tastebuds, the smell of violence that filled the air.
Lowering his body, his knees scraping along the ground as he slid backwards through the dust on the ground, he rested his cheek against your leg before he began placing kisses on it. They trailed from the front, around to your inner thigh. Delicate, gentle, loving almost, before they turned to sharp bites. His yellowed teeth sinking into you with grunts and groans, either from arousal or from the sheer amount of concentration it took him to remember not to hurt you. Not too much anyway.
Between each nibble, each puncture of the top layer of skin with his surprisingly sharp teeth, he mumbled to you, low, rasping words that made you shudder, heating your cheeks and flushing your body.
“Why… I could just devour you whole… Make you a meal I’d never forget…”
Your lips curled into a smile at the thought. Cooper’s possessive nature only ever served to make you lust after him more. It consumed you, and you’d be content for him to consume you.
“Eat of your flesh… drink of your blood, that old chestnut…”
There was a soft scuffing sound which you identified as Cooper’s hips, grinding into the ground, desperate for the friction against his stiff cock as his tongue flitted back up your lips and pressed into your aching cunt one more. And still, he took breaks to speak to you between breathy, lustful moans.
“You taste… you taste as sweet as I remember honey being… you got the bite of a sour cherry… tender like the steaks they offered me at contract meetings… juicy… dripping… fresh kill…”
Your hand fell to the back of his head, keeping him buried between your legs, not quite strong enough to prevent him from stopping for just a few more words.
“I’m gonna eat you alive, darlin’…”
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sturniolo-simp4life · 29 days
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Over the Phone- Chris Sturniolo 
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Warnings- Smut, masturbation (male and female), cursing. Short and sweet <3 
Matt’s version
Chris and his brothers had traveled down to the Lone Star State to film with Sam and Colby- leaving you to fend for yourself. 
You really missed him, from his laugh to his corny jokes. 
And you really couldn’t get yourself off without his voice. You were sexually frustrated with yourself, and your sexual tension was rising. 
You tried. You really did. From his finger movements to the way he rubbed your clit.
But you couldn’t cum without him whispering soft praises into your ear, tell you how good you had been for him. 
You sighed, feeling your core pulse and your legs squeeze together just by thinking about him. You really needed to hear his voice.  
You pulled up his contact and pressed the call button, hoping for him to answer. 
The first thing you saw on the screen was messy brown hair and shining blue eyes, with him being shirtless.
“Hey baby whats up?” he asked with a smile on his face. You smiled back, your legs squeezing tighter.  
“Hey. How has it been?” you asked him. “Its been okay, but i miss youuu.” You giggled. “Tell me about how it's been.” 
He started talking about his experience at the hotel, like the eerie whispers he would hear in the hallways, and the creaking he would hear throughout the hotel. 
You were in his t-shirt and panties, so somehow you were able to slickly shimmy your panties off, your thighs covered in arousal. 
As he talks, you slowly move your hand to rub your clit. You try to suppress your whines by biting your lip. 
This goes on for about 2 minutes, but Chris quickly notices.
“Baby are you okay? Your cheeks looked flushed.” Chris asked while he smirked at you. 
He already knew what was going on, but he wanted to tease you. 
You let out a soft whimper and nodded your head. “Yeah Chris, I-I'm fine.” Chris let out a low chuckle. “Are you gonna let me see baby?” 
You moaned and propped the camera against a pillow, exposing yourself. “Fuck, your so wet baby.
You look so pretty like this.” he propped his camera somewhere, letting you see that he was palming his dick. 
“Rub your clit baby. Start slowly.” You moaned as you followed his directions.
“Now go faster.” You obeyed him and started moving your fingers faster, making you moan louder. 
Chris let out a groan. His pants and boxers were long gone, and he was stroking his length. 
“Put two fingers inside.”  
You nodded your head, inserting a finger, then two. You moaned at the stretching sensation. You started pumping your fingers in and out of yourself. 
“Just like that. Good girl.” You moaned at Chris’s praise. 
You could hear his breath increasing, breathy moans leaving his mouth. He was practically thrusting himself into his fist. 
That went on for a phew moments. All you could hear was your moans and Chris’s whimpers. 
Soon enough, you felt that knot in your stomach. “Fuck Chris- I need to cum.” Your legs were shaking now.
“Not yet,” he groaned. “We’ll cum together. Be a good girl and hold it in for a little. Okay?”  
You whined and shook your head.  
You looked at the camera. Chris’s face was flushed pink, sweat making his hair stick to his face.
The muscles in his hands were tensed, and his tip was flushed pink. 
“Mmm- fuck.” You could see his chest quickly rising and falling, and his hand moving faster and faster.  
You let out a shaky moan, waiting for Chris to let you release. “P-please Chris. I- I really need to cum.”  
“Fuck. Cum with me baby.” And with those words, you felt yourself unravel on your fingers.
You watched Chris as thick spurts of cum erupted from his cock. “Mmm- Fuck. You did so good baby.” 
Chris picked up his phone and held it towards his face. “I really miss you baby.” A smile painted your lips at these words.
“I miss you too. Tell your brothers to hurry it up so you can come home.” 
He let out a chuckle. “You got it Ma.” 
tags- @blahbel668 @theyluvme-2315 @alorsxsturn @maya555sblog @tillies33ssss
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pinkslaystation · 2 months
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Tulips or Roses?
John Price x reader
In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k
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Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.
And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.
So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.
John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)
As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?
Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.
You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.
You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.
So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.
30th February 2010
Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.
Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?
You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.
5th July 2016
Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.
You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.
19th June 2017
Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.
You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.
2nd December 2018
Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.
You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.
7th April 2019
Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.
Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.
You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.
21st August 2019
She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.
Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.
You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.
You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.
30th November 2020
In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.
You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.
You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.
"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.
Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.
So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.
"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.
All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.
"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."
You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.
But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.
The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.
But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?
"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.
"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.
"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.
"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.
"Those people, they're your team?" You question.
His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."
You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.
"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.
"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.
Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.
You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...
Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.
Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.
Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?
The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.
The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.
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A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.
He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.
Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...
He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.
"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)
"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.
The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.
He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"
"When did I say they were my favourite?"
John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."
"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.
"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"
"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"
Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.
"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.
"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.
"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"
"Are we still talking about flowers-"
"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."
"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"
"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."
You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.
"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"
John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.
"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"
You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.
"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"
His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.
"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.
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The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.
As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.
Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-
Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.
He begins reading the last entry.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....
"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.
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It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.
After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.
The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.
Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.
John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.
"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.
"John, listen about last night-"
"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.
You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.
"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."
"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.
"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."
Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.
"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.
My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."
"John..."
He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.
You look at the first entry.
19th February 2021
I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.
You turn the page.
20th July 2021
Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.
The next one.
17th September 2021
I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.
I've always preferred tulips anyway.
And the next.
5th July 2022
Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.
17th September 2022
She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?
28rd December 2023
We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.
You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.
16th February 2024
Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.
Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.
"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."
He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."
And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.
That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum
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gumycandyyy · 9 months
Text
୨♡ Winter King HCS ♡୧
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I am ashamed of tumblr for not making more fanfic of this funky fruit.
We got some general HCS and then some romantic ones under the cut! (I went a little overboard with the romantic ones, hehe!)
Gender-neutral
୨♡ General ♡୧
-Man's self care routine is off the charts
-I'm serious, he has like- 80 different bubble bath concoctions.
-Smells like mint
-or some kind of cold scent.
-I feel like he loves dressing up fancy, so he has a closet full of sparkly suits
-maybe even some dresses if he's feeling special.
-Doesn't actually need to wear glasses, he just likes how they look.
-While he loves his winter wonder world, I feel like he'd enjoy rainy weather more than snow.
-He got rid of all his madness and sadness, yes, but I think he'd cry at something especially cute. Happy tears, y'know?
"Why are you crying, sir? Are you okay?" "Oh, it's nothing. *sniff* Just those two rabbits that are cuddling."
-He is really bad at any percussion instrument
-like.. REALLY bad.
-His hands are too delicate for such a garish instrument as the drums!
-He loves playing duets on the piano, but rarely has anyone to play with.
-I mean, he could always concoct up an ice creature to play piano with him, but that's honestly quite dull.
-His favorite movie would probably be an old Christmas movie, like It's a Wonderful Life.
-He gets kidnapped by the Candy Queen so often, that occasionally he brings a book or something snuggly to help him wait for his ice scouts to rescue him.
-He once got so bored while kidnapped that he tried to read to some of the mutilated candy people
-That was the last time he saw his favorite book.
-Safe to say he doesn't bring his favorites anymore.
୨♡ Romantic ♡୧
-Will literally spoil his love interest rotten.
-You want that thing you saw earlier?
-Consider it yours
-You'd like for it to snow outside?
-A sprinkle or a blizzard?
-Literally anything, this man will go to the ends of the universe to get you what you'd like.
-Love languages are definitely gift giving and physical touch
-probably acts of service too.
-Loves dancing.
-Loves dancing.
-Whether it be a slow dance or ice-skating, he will take every opportunity to dance with you!
-He adores short people.
-Good, because he's tall as a giant.
-if you're shorter than him, he will no doubt use you as an armrest.
-He always makes remarks on how cute you are.
-Even if you're only two inches shorter than him.
-If you're taller...
-hoo boy.
-Expect him to be all over you.
-figuratively and literally.
-Will want you to carry him everywhere, sit in your lap, rest against you, whatever.
-Just let him touch you.
-He'll talk about how strong you are, how you'd be the perfect chair, etc. etc.
-He does the stupid "How's the weather up there?" jokes.
-Loves your body, no matter what it looks like.
-You're skinny?
-You're easy to carry around and dance with.
-You're chubby or fat?
-Literally will always be holding onto or resting on part of you. He loves squishy people.
-Somewhere in the middle?
-He could not care less. He loves you regardless of what you look like.
-And he makes sure to emphasize his point by complimenting you endlessly.
-He will never leave your side.
-Even if you need space, he doesn't.
-So why wouldn't you?
-Back to our regularly scheduled fluff-
-Candy Queen hates your guts.
-She thinks you're an obstacle, keeping her from the Winter King.
-No doubt tries to kill you.
-Multiple times. a day
-Her plans are always foiled, but if she gets too close to genuinely hurting you, Winter will be so upset.
"Oh, Dearest, please tell me you're okay!" "You are?" "Phew. I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt in any way."
-His petnames for you are probably
-Darling,
-Dearest,
-My love,
-There are a lot more, but those are the main ones.
-LOVES kissing you.
-Anytime, any way.
-He finds it adorable when his nose bumps your face.
-Favorite place to kiss would probably be the back of your hand.
-He is a gentleman after all.
-Overall, he just adores you.
-And he sincerely hopes you love him just as much as he does you.
Headcanon requests are open for Winter King! Don't be afraid to send an ask, and be shameless! I know I am! (No smut tho. Some spice is okay, however.)
Have some free WK art for coming this far!
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reblog for a beginner writer?
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chrisevansonly · 6 months
Note
reader and lando finding out poppy is a girl!!
𝐀 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞?
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𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: it’s time to find out the gender of baby norris, and lando had a little help from the boys at his detail garage…
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none very fluffy
𝐚/𝐧: i’m loving lando and poppy they’re so precious and cute😭
One of Lando’s first gifts to you that was enough to make your jaw drop was a 718 Porsche Boxer in pearl white, it was gorgeous, and he’d smiled while handing you the keys as if it didn’t cost him a pretty penny.
It was so significant to you that you’d wondered why it was missing from the garage, it wouldn’t be practical to drive it when the baby arrived, but for now it was fun and got you around town in a flash.
“Lan? Can you come here a second!”
You were sat comfortably on the couch, both hands resting on your growing bump, today was the day you were supposed to be finding out the gender of baby norris, but Lando had been off doing stuff all day, stuff you’d yet to figure out
“You called baby?”
When he came into view you smiled
“Where did the Porsche go? I went to take it out this morning and it was gone…”
Lando shrugged
“I got it taken for a detail, they’re actually about to drop it off now…I um..well I hope you don’t kill me..”
This caught your attention, your eyebrow raising at his slight hesitation
“What did you do…”
Sitting down next to you he leaned down to kiss your stomach before kissing your cheek
“Well, I may have gotten my guys that wrapped the Jolly…to wrap the Porsche…in um whatever colour the gender of baby Norris is” he stated quietly, almost afraid to upset you
“Wait really? Honestly that’s…that’s pretty genius Lan”
At the sound of your voice he smiled, leaning back onto the couch to cuddle in next to you
“Oh phew…do you know how many flowers companies, food deliveries and little presents I have on standby incase you hated it?”
At the sound of this you let out a laugh, though Lando knew deep down you’d never hurt a fly, he’d witnessed your wrath during your pregnancy, and after the first time he’d upset you, he vowed to never do that again.
-
Around 4:30 in the afternoon the guys arrived with the car, it had a cover over it as you and Lando stood in the driveway, eager to see just what colour your car was.
“Are you scared?” You asked, voice wavering
“A bit nervous but not scared…are you?”
“No…I mean-a little but just eager to see what baby Norris is”
Lando pressed a kiss to your temple, holding onto you gently. Thankfully the two of you decided to do this gender reveal just for the two of you, an announcement would come at a later date.
Letting out a deep breath you watched as the car was pulled up in front of you two, Lando making his way over to the fabric cover before looking at you
“Ready baby?”
“Pull it…”
Taking a deep breath himself Lando pulled the cover off to reveal your Porsche, gone was the white paint and to replace it, a gorgeous shade of pink: Baby Norris was a girl!
“A girl!!” Lando yelled excitedly as he cheered
You were a blubbering mess, tears running down your cheeks
“A g-girl…oh Lando”
After completing whatever strange dance he was doing he quickly came your way, pulling you into his arms before kissing your face, pulling away just enough to swipe the tears from your cheeks
“Yeah honey, a girl…you happy?”
“So happy..I love you so much”
Lando’s eyes brimmed with tears the more he thought about the fact that he was going to have a little girl to love and spoil, he was the luckiest man on the planet. He married the woman of his dreams, and had a daughter on the way.
“I love you more, and-”
He paused to lean down and press a kiss to your bump
“Daddy loves you too”
Forgotten was the pink Porsche in the driveway, all that matter was this moment between the two of you, three considering the little baby growing inside of you. Never in your life would you have ever seen your life working out this way, but you were so grateful it was.
ynnorris
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, alexandrasaintmleux and 1M others
pink porsche? guess that means lando’s a girl dad 🩷😉
thank you to the guys at London East Autoworks for helping us with our gender reveal!
tagged landonorris
see 43,000 comments
username OMF LANDO IS A GIRL DAD
username CONGRATS😭😭
alexandrasaintmleux IM SOBBING
>ynnorris auntie alex🩷🩷
maxfewtrell congrats you two! can’t wait to meet the newest norris🩷
landonorris I LOVE YOU AND OUR LITTLE GIRL SO MUCH🥹🩷
>ynnorris we love you more 😘😘
username i’m crying in the supermarket rn
username i cannot😭
mclaren congratulations you two! 🩷🩷
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