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#the last one closes the circle of the first one and the one in the middle is just there because i don't know why
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AND THE OSCAR GOES TO …
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Pairing - Cillian Murphy x fem!reader
Warnings - No warning, the disgust!!! Fluff with a side of angst, I’m shocked… cheesy as
Word count - 2.4+
The day had been exhausting. Cillian, who expresses the importance of sleep, was unable to keep his eyes shut last night in the luxurious king size bed. Usually the award shows were just a part of the job, never taken as seriously as working on the project. But this was different, he had never experienced the honor of such recognition by the industry he adored. Everyone was hyping him up and secretly it terrified him even though he acted unphased. 
Humble, was the word you’d use to describe Cillian. The most modest man in Hollywood, never believing that his work is exemplary. Always reflecting on what else he could have done to be better. It was a guilty desire, to want to win it. He had already won all of the other major awards, but what if he managed to fall short to this?
Likewise to him, you remained awake. Merely embracing him as you two laid in silence. You kept him at bay, he wondered what he did to deserve you. Feared the embarrassment of what you’d think of him if he didn’t win this last one. 
He threw up in the morning. It was all getting to his head. These were the parts he hated most about this job. The expectation on his back now. All eyes were going to be on him tonight. Not to mention the reporters. At all of the award shows they tended to ask insensitive questions about your relationship. 
Your relationship with Cillian was certainly controversial. Age gaps always were. Neither of you ever intended to fall in love, but denying that spark of attraction felt like a major crime.  
At first, you both tried to make yourselves believe it to just be casual. To merely get those urges out of your system. Neither one of you intended on making the encounter romantic or innermost with each other. However, by the third date, it came to light in your senses that this was real. 
The dating stage was a rollercoaster of emotions. Filled to the rim with doubts of if you both would be able to make it work. Yeah, you’ve dated some real questionable guys. But a 20 year age difference was never a bridge you expected to cross. Despite the hesitance of this intangible factor, you two just couldn’t view a future without one another anymore. 
Slowly, you both tackled your insecurities of becoming public to your loved ones. The hardest were your parents, even though there was still a bit of an age gap, Cillian was closer to their age than yours and it was a judgment they couldn’t avoid. It took some time, but as they watched your eyes blossom at the sight of him they knew it was real. 
The public would never know how you brought Cillian out of his despair. A man of privacy he was, hardly anyone knew how toxic his first marriage was. How bad his mind had become after years of trying over something that was long dead cold. With how he had given up hope on ever feeling loved by another again. Most days he felt like a man trying to find a pin in a haystack. 
Dating Cillian taught you the value of privacy and wellbeing. Behind the closed doors, your relationship was paradise. You had never experienced a relationship that wasn’t followed by the media. It was all that you had ever known. But this, being able to focus on him and not on how the world perceived your relationship had changed your whole perspective. 
When the news broke that not only were you dating Cillian Murphy, but pregnant, the backlash was astounding. However, you both had the approval and support from your inner circles and that was all that mattered. You had a shotgun wedding in Ireland with a small number of attendees. It was the greatest day of your life until you gave birth to your daughter, Aisling. 
He looked so charming as you watched him dress in the hotel room. He was laughing nervously a lot, trying to talk about things other than the ceremony. 
You didn’t blame his distress. Years ago you were in the same affair. It was your hardest role and greatest accomplishment. Portraying a woman at her lowest point in a society that she felt she didn’t belong. By the end of production, a part of you felt like you were her. When you were nominated for Best Actress, you were filled with gratitude and honor. But also couldn’t help but to think at the back of your head if you really deserved this. A part of you didn’t feel worthy to be running with your fellow nominees. The anxiety rose inside of you everytime someone asked what would you do if you won? 
But, when the presenter announced your name, the wave of acceptance consumed you deep into the ocean. Everything you had ever done had led to that moment. There was no need for you to secretly bring yourself down. You have pushed your mind, body and soul for this project. The gratitude had overwhelmed you as you accepted this recognition. 
Watching him on the red carpet, you could see right through him. The illusion of confidence mixed with the gratitude of accolades. He wanted the night to be done with, there was nothing more that he wanted to do besides be at home with you and Aisling. It was the first time Cillian had attended the grand event and you observed him look around in awe in the ceremony room. The whole time you had held onto his hand tightly as the big four without hurry finally rolled over. 
“And the Oscar goes to…” Brendan Fraser paused as he opened the envelope.
Time froze over, your iron grip on Cillian’s hand as you stared immensely. There was this clock ticking in your head. Your emotions were masked as Cillian had a stern expression. You could sense how anxious he was with being in the running for the greatest honor.   
Despite the distance, you ever so clearly saw the look that lit in Brendan’s eyes and knew immediately. His gaze looked up to Cillian as he announced his name to the world. A radiant smile grew on Cillian’s lips as the audience started cheering for him. 
He acknowledged you promptly, his blue eyes soft as he leant in to kiss you. After a small exhale of relief, you wrapped your arms around his body and kissed him passionately. His forehead pressed against yours for a few seconds, but it felt like hours. The noise drained out and you both forgot where you were. It was just the two of you. When Cillian opened his eyes again, his gaze was met with your undying smile of bliss. 
The track for Oppenheimer was playing as Cillian slowly let you go and embraced his fellow cast members You were clapping your hands together uncontrollably, your eyes welled with tears of joy as you watched Cillian make the short journey to the stage.
Emily embraced you, you exhaled heavily against her as you were still feeling the overwhelming sensation against your skin. It was all too much to take in, you could see his photo up on all of the screens, the cheers were running down to your ear drums. It felt like deja vu from years ago when you were in the exact same spot. 
He shook all of the presenters' hands. Sharing a few words with each of them individually. The audience were still on their feet as Cillian looked down to the golden prize in his hold, his mouth dry as he struggled to think of what to say. 
The crowd was standing in awe for him. Cillian laughed nervously, his expression overwhelmed and shocked at what was occurring. He has never even dreamt of this moment, never believing he’d be able to make it. His hand trailed over jaw as his eyes took in everything. He waited for the audience to silence themselves but realized that they wouldn’t be doing it on their own any time soon. 
“Um, I’m a little overwhelmed. Thank you to the Academy” Cillian started, his eyes roaming over the room. The crowd came to silence. “Um, Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas, it's been the wildest, most exhilarating, most creatively satisfying journey you’ve taken me on over the last 20 years. I owe you more than I can say. Thank you so much” Cillian expressed his gratitude to them. His mentors, the people that trusted him dearly with many of their successes. 
There was such little time. Shockingly, Cillian hadn’t prepared himself for this moment, despite everyone telling him that even though the competition was scintillating, the Oscar already had his name written on it. Of course he had summed up a few words to say, people to recognise. But the shock had drowned his thoughts. 
“Every single crew member, every single cast member on Oppenheimer. You guys carried me through. All of my fellow nominees, I remain in awe of you guys, truly” Cillian acknowledged, his eyes darting around the room to look for his fellow nominees. 
He truly was in admiration of them. The pair of you had watched all of the nominated films and Cillian couldn’t help to be even in applause of them, but also intimidated by them as award season had rolled over. 
“I wanna thank my incredible team. Ah, big shout out to Craig Bankie!” Cillian grinned. “Brendan Murphy- Brendan Murphy, Mary Murphy. Who are currently taking care of my baby girl back in Ireland. Aisling, my darling, daddy loves you so much” He smiled purely into the camera. 
There was a pause as he blinked heavily. His gaze found its way back to you so lovingly. CIllian stared at you in awe. Even though you were at a distance from each other, he could see you so perfectly. His perfect woman, wife, lover.  
“Oh” he breathed out, tilting his head up the slightest bit. “And there’s a woman” he professed as he closed his eyes dramatically, taking in all of the emotions he was feeling. 
Some of the crowd couldn’t resist screaming out in excitement. Your hand pressed against your mouth as you slowly shook your head in disbelief. 
“Yeah” he said to himself as he nodded his head, eyes still shut. “A woman. Who I love” Cillian vowed, his eyes finding you once more. Cillian breathed out your name as he watched you enchantedly. “You’re the love of my life, and I owe everything to you. You’ve kept me sane throughout this whole process. I wouldn’t be up here without you. This award, it’s for us. I love you” Cillian commended, giving you an angelic smile. 
The crowd roared in exhilaration. The camera focused on you and your teary eyes as you were shaking your head in disbelief and happy embarrassment. 
“I’m a very proud Irish man standing here tonight. So…” Cillian smiled as he raised his award into the air. The crowd cheered as he could feel the privilege of honoring his nationality. “You know, we made a film. We made a film about the man who created the atomic bomb. And for better or for worse, we’re all living in Oppenheimer’s world. So I would really like to dedicate this to the peacemakers everywhere” Cillian finished with a satisfied nod. “Go raibh mile maith agaibh!” He raised the award one final time as he spoke his native language and took a step back from the microphone. 
The music began as Cillian winked to you. Everyone stood up again as they all applauded him, many eyes were on you as well. He engaged with the past winners as they all walked off stage. People congratulated you for landing such a romantic man and you couldn’t argue with them if you wanted you. 
You kissed him passionately in the elevator, the buzz of the champagne you shared in the ride over giving the pair of you slightly too much confidence. Cillian was chuckling slowly as you both looked at the award in his hand. The doors dung open and you were cheered by the guests in the venue of the afterparty. 
A snort left Cillian as he noticed a tap of Guinness at the bar. Neither of you could refuse a pint of it. The night rolled on with many congratulations, drinks, photographs, hand shakes, embraces and conversations on what an achievement this had been. No one would be able to guess how exhausted Cillian truly was. But the adrenaline was still pumping through his blood stream and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon.  
As the music blasted and the dance floor filled with highly tipsy people, Cillian confidently pulled you onto it. His arms wrapped around your body as he swayed you to the music. The two of you smiled gleefully, intoxicated with the moment and built up emotion over these past few months. Even though the lighting was dark, you could see the crooked smile on his lips. 
“Let’s have another” he proposed into your ear. You hummed and looked up to him. A heavy laugh left your mouth as you turned your foot to the bar but he stopped you. “No, no” he laughed. “Another baby” he clarified. 
“You only ever wanted one” you brought up. It was unsure if he was being serious, or merely caught up in the moment. 
“I’ve been wrong” he admitted, swaying you perfectly to the beat of the music. You hummed confidently, a sparkle in your eyes, the thought of a baby boy with his eyes coming to mind. “You’ve brought me out of my hardest moments. I know I tell you this all the time but woman, you mean everything to me. Your support, advice, guidance and love is all I’ll ever need to live a fulfilled life. You’ve taught me so much which has benefitted not only my career but happiness and spirit in life. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say or show you” Cillian confessed. 
Innocent embarrassment made you shake your head towards him. He just had a way with words that made your heart swoon over him, even when he was drunk. A long, gentle kiss connected you together once more. This was life, the happiness you both could share together. Not the expensive outfits, fancy cars or grand events. It was the emotions and feelings intertwined as one between two bodies. 
Cillian had made history tonight, but you were forever to be his grand prize in life. 
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ladykailitha · 3 days
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The Harrington Pattern Part 12
Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.
A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.
Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
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Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.
It was marvelous.
“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.
Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”
“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.
“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.
Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.
“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.
“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”
Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.
Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”
He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.
Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.
“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”
Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”
“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”
Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.
He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.
Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.
Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”
“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”
Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”
“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.
Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”
Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”
“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.
Steve just laughed.
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The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.
And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.
He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.
Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.
Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.
Steve was really looking forward to it.
They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.
Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.
So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.
Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.
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Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.
“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.
“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”
Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.
“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”
“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”
“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”
Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”
Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”
He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”
“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”
“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.
She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”
“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.
“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.
“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”
Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”
“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.
“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”
Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”
Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”
That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”
“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”
Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”
“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”
“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”
“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”
Steve said goodbye and hung up.
This just might be the thing he needed.
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Part 13
Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.
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I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 10
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Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9
AO3
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 3.5k
Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58
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The room was silent, nothing but the sound of calm, steady breathing piercing the air, a single beam of sunlight stretching through a gap in the curtains, snaking across the bedsheets in a thin, golden ribbon. Frankie was sat up, hunched forward slightly, picking at a frayed edge of the blanket as she stared blankly down at the foot of the bed. Laid back against the pillows, Rosie watched her intently, his thumb rubbing slow, gentle circles against the skin of her back, poking up beneath the hem of her shirt.
The second floor of the village pub consisted entirely of various bedrooms, a makeshift bed and breakfast, intended to make money out of the encroaching military population. With the Nissen huts so strictly segregated, the place had become a popular haunt for anyone hoping for a little 'alone time'. They came often. He liked to sleep beside her the night before a mission - to hold her close for what could always be the last time, to sit and talk somewhere entirely alone. Rosie did his best to avoid thinking about what else might have taken place in this bed - for now, it was simply their refuge.
Twenty-five missions. It was an impressive credential, a staggering achievement considering the almost impossible odds every pilot faced when he took off each day. And with it came the ultimate prize - a ticket home. Any man among them would give a limb for the chance - to never have to go up again, to truly live a life back home with their family.
It felt almost criminal not to want it.
But how could he? How could he burn for home the way the others did, when she wouldn't be there? When twenty-five missions meant being an ocean apart from the woman next to him, twenty-five missions was a death sentence.
"I want you to do it," Frankie croaked, her voice strained and quiet. His palm flattened against her back, and with a sigh she lay back, hair fanning out against the pillow.
"What do you mean?" He asked, brow furrowed.
Her head lolled to the side, meeting his gaze. "When you make twenty-five. I want you to go home."
"... What?" Rosie swore he felt his stomach sink, nausea bubbling in his chest as it burrowed deep into his gut.
Frankie shrugged, the sheets rustling with the movement. "You deserve to see your family, Rosie. You deserve not to live in a place that smells like oil and shit, especially after everything you've done."
A deep frown tugged at his expression as he shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to get a better look at her face. There was nothing in her eyes but utter, uncompromising sincerity. "W-..." He paused a moment, waiting for his mind to stop racing long enough to form a sentence. "What about you?"
She smiled, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, and he couldn't help but lean into it, revelling in the feeling of warmth. "I'll catch you up when I'm done."
Rosie let out a huff of almost-laughter, flashing a disbelieving grin as he fought to fathom what she was saying. "Are you serious?"
A self-satisfied smirk had wormed its way across her face. "Why not?"
"You'd seriously come to America for me?"
"Well, I have always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty," Frankie teased, cutting herself off with a laugh as he fell forward, lips hastily colliding with hers, one hand finding her waist, the other clasping the back of her neck. Her arms snaked around his neck the way they always did, holding his head in place as she reciprocated the kiss, smiling against his lips.
He'd wanted to marry her then. It wasn't the first time the thought had occurred to him, nowhere near in fact, but he wasn't sure it had ever felt so strong. If he asked he knew she'd say no - she'd say they needed more time, that they needed to wait until this was all over. He understood. If something went wrong, if he didn't come back, he didn't want her to carry his name like a badge of un-belonging for the rest of her life. If he could give her anything in death, he wanted it to be a clean break.
The kiss ended, and she was beaming at him, combing a hand through his ungelled curls as he pressed his forehead against hers. She would have given anything to just stay there, tucked beneath the blankets, feeling his breath against her cheek. Every time he climbed into that cockpit, his plane disappearing into the clouds over the horizon, it was like she was preparing for his death already, readying her mind for the news if he ever didn't make it home. Each return was a momentary relief, but it never lasted long. This was the last hurdle, the last bridge to cross before he was home safe, and she could put that constant, nagging fear aside.
A hurried knock came hammering against the door, and a groan escaped Rosie's throat burying his face in the crook of her neck, the weight of his body preventing Frankie from being able to move. She let out a grunt, shoving at his shoulders. "Get up!" She chuckled, and he reluctantly rolled over, pushing himself up off the bed with a huff.
The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he padded over to the door, prying it open only a few inches, his shoulders blocking the gap in the doorway and shielding Frankie from the view of whoever was outside. Pappy was already in uniform, foot tapping irritably against the floor as he answered. "Just checking, you do actually plan to fly your twenty-fifth, right?" He asked sarcastically.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a minute, just lemme get dressed," Rosie nodded, waving a hand of dismissal. Pappy didn't move, clearly waiting for him, and he began to frown as Rosie didn't move out of the doorway.
"Mornin', Frankie!" He called over Rosie's shoulder into the room behind him.
"Hey, Pappy!" Her voice rang out in return, and Rosie sighed, ignoring his friend's smirk as he closed the door on him.
"Y'know, it definitely would've looked weirder if you were just up here on your own," Frankie pointed out as Rosie began hurrying to grab his uniform and put it on. "That'd raise some questions."
It was later in the day than he'd thought, and he almost tugged his trousers on backwards in an attempt to get dressed as fast as possible, stuffing all of his belongings blindly into a bag as he raced to make his mission. Frankie was only half ready by the time he was done, and he pulled her attention away from the tying of her boot by capturing her lips in a quick goodbye kiss.
"Alright, I gotta go. I love you, I'll see you later."
His hand was already on the doorknob by the time he realised it. Turning his head, she was staring back at him. He'd never said those words before. In a million different ways he had made it abundantly clear that it was true, but this was the first time he'd truly looked her in the eye and said it.
"Yeah?" Frankie grinned.
"Oh, you have no idea," Rosie beamed, slipping out into the hall. Pappy was still waiting, a confused look contorting his expression as he noticed the red flush that filled his face. Making a beeline for the stairs, his copilot was close behind, the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.
"Are you... ok?"
Rosie reached the bottom of the stairs, turning back to look up at him, slightly out of breath. "Told my girl I love her. First time."
"Oh! Congrats?"
"Thanks, Pap," He nodded, clapping him on the shoulder, unable to tear away his grin.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It had been over an hour since the planes departed, and George and Frankie were sitting in the field that ran alongside the airstrip, propped up on their elbows as they lounged in the grass, sharing a bag of peanuts between them. The sun hung high and bright that day, and sunglasses rested on the bridges of their noses despite the slight chill in the air.
"So he told you he loved you," George nodded. "But you guys have been a thing for a while now, was that seriously the first time?"
"Nah. First time he'll remember, though - he says it a lot when he's drunk, but he's shy when he's sober."
She chuckled, red lips curling up in a smile. "Yunno, I always thought that guy was a bit of a weirdo, but you make me like him."
Frankie laughed, shaking her head. "God, you're a terrible person."
George gasped, head lolling to the side to look over at her friend. "Speaking of - you know Brenda? Red Cross Brenda? Well, apparently she-"
Before she got the chance to finish her sentence, Ken came bounding up, grinning like a lost puppy returned to its owner. "Heya!" He chirped, crouching down before the pair. It had become customary for the young mechanic to invade their conversations whenever he wasn't busy, eager for some company outside of his other sprightly, male colleagues. "What's goin' on?"
"Boooo!" George thundered at his intrusion, reaching for a fistful of peanuts and throwing them at him, a few pinging against his forehead.
"God, who invited you?" Frankie cried, her voice overlapping with George's. "Get your own friends!"
The hostilities were all in jest, the way a sister might poke fun at a brother, and neither woman objected as Lemmons wormed his way in between them, lifting their belongings out of the way to clear a space for him on the grass. Hands folded behind his head, he peered up at them, squinting in the sun. "So... what happened with Brenda?"
"Nuh-uh," George shook her head. "If you wanted to know you should've shown up on time. Those are the rules."
"There's rules now?"
"Obviously, we're not imbeciles," Frankie shrugged. "Get with the program or get fucked, Kenny."
"Jesus Christ."
"So, Ken, how's Fonda?" She asked, her voice taking on a singsong lilt, a teasing smirk curling her lip.
He let out a groan, folding his arms over his head so they couldn't see the red flush that had overtaken his face. "...She's good," After he wallowed in embarrassment for a moment, an indignant expression overtook him, and he bolted upright. "Hey, at least I'm married!"
"Yeah, at nineteen, 'cause that's normal," George snorted, fending him off as he tried to whack her over the head.
"I'm just sayin'! Frankie and Rosie gotta hurry it up a little, I think."
Frankie scoffed, throwing up her hands in surrender. "I... Actually, no, fuck off, I'm not going there with you - I'm sorry that I'm waiting to properly get to know the guy before I get hitched, ok?"
"Oh, she knows the guy, alright," George muttered, and Ken snorted a laugh, the pair letting out yelps as a fistful of peanuts collided with their heads.
"I'm content with my choices!" Frankie declared loudly, and the three of them stewed in silence for a moment before collectively descending into laughter, the sight of a dozen missed peanuts scattered in the grass only adding to the inexplicable hilarity.
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It was as if they'd almost forgotten what they were waiting for by the time the sound of faraway plane engines began to split the air, a familiar thrumming sound that sent an involuntary jolt of panic through Frankie whenever she heard it, her heart immediately pounding out of her chest as she leapt up, accidentally sticking a foot into the empty bag of nuts as she scrambled to her feet. She'd never felt quite like it, an equal mix of terror and elation flooding through her - fear that it might not be Rosie flying one of the returning buses, but delight at what it meant if he was.
Half of Thorpe Abbotts seemed to have turned up for his return, and Frankie almost burst into tears the moment 'Rosie's Riveters' came into view, George's whooping ringing in her ears as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, jumping up and down in ecstatic celebration. It took a moment for the gravity of their situation to dawn on her, but when it did she couldn't stop grinning, her cheeks beginning to ache. Rosie was going home. He was safe.
The moment he left the plane, he was swarmed, a dozen hands lifting him up off the tarmac, hauling him up onto the men's shoulders as the barrage of cheers and applause filled his ears. But the second he had slipped through that door, his eyes had found her, standing at the back of the crowd, clapping along, her shoulder leant up against George's. Their gazes met, and she rolled her eyes teasingly - he could almost hear her voice in his head, jokingly begging him to stay humble as he was carried aloft through the crowd.
They were cheering his name, shaking his hand and patting him on the back as he passed, but as soon as his feet touched the tarmac, none of it mattered. The second he was on solid ground again, he was making a beeline towards Frankie, brow raised in question. They were too far apart, too bracketed by ear-splitting cheers for him to simply ask 'Can I kiss you?', but she could always tell. With a smirk and a nod, permission was granted, and the moment they collided his lips were on hers, hands cupping her cheeks, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. A second, somehow ever more raucous cheer erupted, and he could feel her smiling into the kiss as her hands found his collar, pressing against his jaw. In that moment, even through the cacophony of whoops and yells, she was the only person in the world to him.
The kiss broke, but his hands stayed firmly planted on either side of her face, their foreheads pressed against each other, eyes locked. "Hi," Frankie beamed, speaking so softly that only he could hear.
"Hello."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Frankie had never been quite so much at the centre of attention than she was that night. It was as if the moment Rosie had kissed her in front of everyone on the tarmac, it became her party as well as his, a celebration of just making it, of still having the person you loved at the end of the day. She'd showered three times that afternoon, desperately trying to scrub away the lingering smell of her work, and George had even made her put on lipstick. But Frankie couldn't deny it - she looked fucking good.
The band was in full swing, to such an extent that she had to yell over the incessant ring of trumpets just to order a drink, but as the night rolled on she never once felt Rosie's hand leave her - a gentle palm against her waist or back wherever they went, a quiet reminder that he was home safe, that they were going to be ok. Bailey had an arm around her shoulder, and her head tilted back as she laughed at one of Pappy's jokes, and for once they seemed to feel free - free to simply be each other's friends without having to worry about losing one another.
"So I said to her, I said "Hey Betty, you're gonna wanna paint those ceilings your favourite colour, 'cause you'll be seein' a lot of 'em when I get home," Bailey joked, and she let out a groan as the others laughed, gently slapping his shoulder with the back of her palm. Across the circle they had formed, Croz went digging in his pocket for a cigarette, and she reached out, holding up her lighter for him as he nodded his thanks.
Rosie's hands on her shoulders caught her attention as he slipped around behind her. "I'm gettin' another drink - you need anythin', honey?"
"No, I'm good," She nodded, raising her half-finished beer as proof as he stepped away towards the bar. Turning back to the others, she found Pappy grinning at her, sipping smugly at his whiskey. "Oh, shut up - what're you, twelve?"
"So you've been keeping it under wraps since Christmas?" Crosby asked, raising a brow in alarm as Bailey guffawed.
"Oh, yeah, 'keepin' it under wraps'," He chuckled. "Jesus, we could all tell from the day he got back," The other members of Rosie's flight crew began to laugh, nodding in agreement.
"Well, what can I say? I'm just that great," Frankie grinned, squeezing Bailey's arm as she shuffled past him, moving to follow Rosie towards the bar.
She hadn't had a chance to thank Kidd yet for giving her Bucky's jacket, and was already poised to speak as she approached, a warm smile curling her lip. But then she heard his words.
"Brass is upping the end-of-tour requirements from twenty-five to thirty missions."
Her stomach sank. Not just for the poor pilots, for every man who had been so goddamn close to getting to go home. But because she knew in that moment that Rosie wasn't done. Even if he hadn't realised it yet, even if the decision to stay hadn't yet crossed his mind, she knew him well enough. He wouldn't leave because he couldn't - couldn't give it up and take the easy way out when so many other, less experienced men had to die as a result of this decision. She loved him for it, but maybe she hated him a little too.
Frankie hadn't realised she'd stopped dead in her tracks until Kidd spotted her, his brow furrowing. Rosie turned to follow his gaze, eyes softening the moment they landed on her. "Frankie-"
Her glass went down on the bar with a thud, her desire to drink suddenly evaporated. "Thanks for the jacket, Jack," She nodded, forcing a smile. "That was really nice of you."
Before Rosie got the chance to reach out to her, she had walked away, brushing past them both as she forced her way through the crowd, the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears drowning out the sound of the music. She had begun searching for George without even realising it, spotting her familiar golden curls among a crowd of Red Cross volunteers. Making a move towards her, George turned immediately on her arrival, brow drawing with concern.
"Can we go?"
"Yeah," George accepted without hesitation, casting aside her drink as she shouldered her way towards the door, clearing a path for Frankie to trail along behind.
She hadn't realised quite how tightly she'd been holding her breath until they stepped outside, the cold air hitting her like a wall as she let it out in a gasp, running a hand through her hair as she marched around to the side of the building, sitting down on the nearest bench she could find. The wood creaked as George sat down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her knee and waiting quietly for her to speak.
"I have washed... so much blood out of those planes," Frankie said, her voice uneven, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she spoke. "Before I got this job I didn't really understand how much blood a person could have. Sometimes when they get hit by shrapnel, it tears the leather on the seats, n' the blood soaks into the stuffing. It's really hard to get it out then - usually I just have to seal the hole and leave it in there. But then it's like... whoever gets in that plane next just has to sit on that blood, like there's this permanent reminder that someone died there, but I'm the only one who knows it's there."
"Frankie... what happened? D'you want me to get Rosie?"
"No," She spoke hurriedly, shaking her head. "No, I don't-... I can't talk to him right now."
George turned sideways in her seat to properly look at her, raising a hand to swipe the hair away from her face. "Why? Did he do something?"
Frankie took a deep breath, finally meeting George's gaze, her eyes red and filled with tears. "He's going back up, George."
"What? Did he tell you that?"
"They've upped the number of missions the new guys have to do to be allowed to leave. Rosie's in the clear, but... we both know he won't take it now."
She sniffed, raising a hand to wipe away the tear that trailed down her cheek, and George pulled her forward into a hug, cheek pressed against her scalp as she rubbed her back.
"I'm so tired, George," Frankie croaked, her voice scarcely loud enough to hear.
"I know," She whispered. "... I know."
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thesistersarcheron · 23 hours
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Pairing: Elriel Rating: E Words: ~2.4k Tags: A/B/O Dynamics, Omegaverse, Dubious Consent, Knotting, In Heat/Mating Cycles, Modern AU, Sister’s Boyfriend’s Best Friend Azriel, Omega Elain, Alpha Azriel Summary: When Elain goes into a breakthrough heat in the wake of a messy breakup from Graysen Nolan and calls her big sister for help, there’s only one alpha for the job: Nesta’s friend Azriel.
Read the first chapter on AO3 now! Snippet below the cut.
When the knock finally comes, Elain Archeron is a mess.
A whining, trembling mess.
She’s clinging to her sanity by a thread, and she’s close. 
So damn close. 
The hand buried between her slick-drenched thighs doesn’t so much as pause. She ignores the knock and circles her clit again, arching her hips up off the bed as she chases her pleasure recklessly. Her body is on fire, from the scorching heat in her cheeks to the aching tips of her breasts, and she needs more. 
More.
More. 
With her free hand, she digs blindly through in her nightstand, searching for the only sex toy she owns.
She could kill herself for tucking it away in the back. For hiding it in a box with her stretched out hair elastics and twisted bobby pins and a mostly-empty tube of lotion.
A voice in the back of her mind that sounds like Nesta’s spits, Fucking Graysen. 
That’s what Elain got for dating a knothead like Graysen Nolan—an alpha who proposed with a hideous pearl-and-diamond ring when he knew Elain hated pearls, who made concerned noises about the damage heat suppressants would do to her body until she tossed that little packet of pills in the trash, who encouraged her to do the same to the small stash of knotted omega toys she bought in college because the only knot Elain needed was her Alpha’s…
Who lasted just one miserable, unsatisfying heat before he found an omega with a more enticing scent.
He even had the nerve to ask her to give the ring back.
Fucking Graysen. 
The knock sounds again, three firm raps on the front door of her small apartment. The knife’s-edge of her orgasm is gone, ruined by the mere thought of her ex, and Elain lets her frustration guide her as she shouts in the general direction of the front of her tiny studio apartment.
It’s something along the lines of Go away! or I’m not home! or Alpha, please, need a knot, Alpha, Alpha, Alpha— 
She can’t exactly remember, because her aching cunt clenches around nothing and her hand slaps down on the silicone knot at the back of her drawer in the same moment.
“Oh, thank the gods,” she gasps.
——— Keep reading on AO3.
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sizzleissues · 3 days
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Gift (Core 4 and Adrien thinks, writing exercise)
“You didn’t have to!” Marinette says, squealing as she turns the t-shirt over in her hands. On its front is the visualiser art for Jagged Stones obscure first release, faded now by years of love and soap. Alya beams, leaning forward to see the gift through Marinette’s ecstatic eyes.
“It really wasn’t that big of a deal. You just happened to mention you’d discovered Crocodile Mania on the phone as I passed the second-hand store. It was fate really.” She shrugs but her pleasure in a successful gifting is betrayed by her smile.
Adrien can’t but feel slightly envious of her fortune. Marinette had loved the various gifts he’d given her (for example the blanket draped across her knees. While he couldn’t knit or sew, he knew that she was in dire need of something to keep her warm during the night because she kept shivering and denying it. He’d ironed on a few cat themed patches to the front and she’d glowed upon receiving it.) But nothing had quite elicited the same reaction (well, nothing material at least…)
Marinette puts the t-shirt to her face, giggling and falling back. As Nino hands his gift to Alya, she slips it on, cradling her arms around her chest. It fits perfectly.
“This is really nice Alya, I hope you didn’t spend too much. Memorabilia like this is usually-.”
Alya turns, her new set of earmuffs in her hands, and shakes her head. “It’s fine Marinette, it really wasn’t that much.”
“Alya,” she complains.
Adrien sighs internally. Always eager to give but chronically unable to receive, as Ladybug or as Marinette. At some point he’d figured out as Chat Noir that his roses weren’t rejected out of apathy or lack of feelings but by her inability to accept them. At first because she didn’t feel he was sincere, and then because she despised the money spent on it.
“It’s just too much,” she’d say. “Money better spent elsewhere.”
“It’s just too much,” she says to Alya now. “Money better spent elsewhere.”
“But for the look on your face? Priceless,” Alya assuages and partially convinces Marinette to relax her anxious frown. Adrien huffs, when he’d used that line last year she’d balked at him.
Money is it. The insecurity of it. The lack of it. Something he has in spades but his friends do not. That was the source.
The conversation moves on, the ‘friend exchange gifts in a circle with a STRICT spending limit’ over because none of them could agree what to call it. White elephant was too ostentatious according to Alya, sick of its results in her own family. She’d ended up with a bag of baby carrots, three golden Easter eggs the size of her head and a miniature chicken carved out of broccoli over the course of the years. Secret Santa deemed pointless by Nino because there were so little of them around they’d figure it out immediately. Finally Marinette vetoed grab bag for similar reasons to Nino. In the end, it mostly resembled regular gift giving.
“Speaking of Jagged Stone, did you see he’s performing in a few weeks. Tickets are crazy.” Nino lifts up his phone to show the dates and ticket price.
“That’s insane.”
“Who can afford that?”
“That’s not too bad-,” Adrien pauses, realising his response didn’t fit the other ones yelled out by the others. “That’s awful,” he corrects. Luckily, he only receives one odd glance from Marinette against his chest.
“Like maybe if it was later, but that’s so close. No one commissions me during January,” Marinette muses, playing with his arm as she speaks. Her hands make their way to his, intertwining and twisting until settling together. It’s quite distracting.
“Same here. Work doesn’t really pick back up until after they’ll be sold out. And then there’s definitely no getting them.” Alya groans and flops against the back of the couch. Balancing university and work had become the main struggle for many of them. To afford it they needed to work but to pass class they needed to study.
Notably not Adrien. The difference had become ever more starkly present since leaving collegé. While his friends took up odd jobs and dived for spare change, he continued modelling only because the evenings became incredibly boring with his friends often scattered across Paris, being more adult than him. He could quit, he should quit after everything, but then it was just be more obvious the free time his financial status afforded him. It wasn’t like he didn’t offer to help. But from there you ran into a different problem. Pride.
Case and point.
“I could get the tickets-,” he begins.
“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”
“Adrien no. Bad.”
“Don’t even suggest it.”
“And you can pay it back once things pick up again.” He finishes. Marinette relaxes her sudden iron grip on his hand.
“Oh.” The let out collectively.
From under his head Marinette hums. “That could work. I usually get work in February anyway.”
“Exactly,” he says. “It has no downsides.”
-
Wow. I can write again. Unfortunately it’s the present tense calling to me which isn’t my usual. Forgive, I’m stretching my bones.
Anyway this is sort of based off the discussions I’ve been seeing about Adrien and gift giving. Idk if it really hits it but I had fun and it was nice to play around in these characters heads again after so long.
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brokenpieces-72 · 12 hours
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I really love the stray series and this idea has been bugging me for a while. So what if they brought stray along to help investigate the facility but got ambushed and stray got injured saving them?
Yay first request, okay time to not screw it up! I hope I did this okay.
Stray Shot
Laswell’s intel was enough for a small mission to take place and investigate the facility. There was some discussion about whether they take you along or not. Gaz can give you basic commands but you’re no K9. After a couple of minor concerns were brought up they decided to bring you along. You knew the facility and your reactions could at least give them a gauge of what happened.
You were given a vest… but as the rest of the team was gearing up you kept wrestling with it, biting and nipping at it. You even managed to get your bottom jaw stuck in it. Soap was the first to finish getting ready and came out to see you stepping around with your mouth caught on the vest, seeing you fall over. Johnny shook his head but got you out of the vest. Price came out later and saw Johnny latching on your leash.
“The dog needs a vest sergeant.” Price commented.
“You’re welcome to try sir.” Johnny said offering the best to the captain, not much hope of success on his face.
John did try…you kept moving and when he tried holding you between his legs, you kept wriggling free, voice your disdain with small growls. Price gave up as well.
Nikolai was waiting with a vehicle. Flying wasn’t easily an option, seeing as there was nowhere they could easily land, and they couldn’t easily drop out with you not having any gear on. You ride being very well behaved in the back… okay yeah you definitely tried to get up front into shotgun but thankfully John and Nikolai were able to dissuade you so there wasn’t an accident.
When the task force arrived at the facility though, everything was quiet. Eerily quiet. No guards at the gate, no patrols, not even a vehicle in a parking lot. Guns were up though, the men knowing full well that quiet doesn’t mean absent. You were kept on leash, attached to Kyle’s belt. Your body language made it very clear you didn’t want to be here, ears down and flat, your tails between your legs and whimpering, trying to circle back to the safety of the vehicles. Kyle kept tugging your leash though, reminding you there was no retreat, but that you were not alone.
They entered through a side door, scoping around before entering. When Kyle tried to go in you kept pulling away. You didn’t want to go back in, you fled for a reason. There weren’t any other animals inside you could hear either. Kyle kept tugging, urging you to go in. Price held the door, keeping watch for any signs of movement with Ghost and Soap moving ahead slowly.
Kyle crouched down to your level, while you shifted and moved around whimpering, letting out small distressed barks.
“Hey hey, I know I know. It’s okay. We just need to go in for a bit, nothing in there is gonna hurt you.” Kyle said trying to calm you down, giving you scratches and neck rubs. He held your head to look directly at you.
“You’re Safe…we’re gonna make sure of it.” He said. You let out one last whimpering before moving in closer and licking his face. Kyle stood up and led you inside. There is a strong metallic smell along with weird smells you remembered but didn’t recognize as anything good. Every move the men made you froze and followed. Ghost checked around a corner, you looked from where you were. Johnny tensed, you tensed. The captain gave an order your ears perked. Kyle stopped you let out a small growl. This seemed to go on for a long time.
Soon they approached a door you had seen a few times but never entered. And never saw others leave. You started fighting against the leash again. The men think you’re scared, and you are. When Ghost opened the door though, it was more than that.
The door closed as soon as it opened after a shot rang out. There was shouting as Ghost open fired as soon as the door reopened. Another shot was fired but this one from above and behind into Gaz’s back. If it weren’t for the vest he may have been paralyzed. Thinking fast Gaz unhooked the leash from your collar and the men moved quickly taking cover. Ghost cleared out whatever men were in that room, making it the easiest spot to avoid the sniper. You wasted no time rushing in with the rest.
Inside they saw kennels and fenced cages, with chain leashes hanging from the wall. There was also blood. The place was a familiar scent to you, as you detected other animals you’d encountered. Any of them came in they were rarely let back out, and if they were they weren’t the same. You whimpered as you detected the scent of another dog you’d met. A husky, who didn’t give up on escape.
“Operating table, kennels, chains… this is animal testing at its ugliest.” Ghost commented as they kept moving. Ghost approached a corner, but you stepped in first smelling danger. Without warning Ghost turned to find another guard pointing a gun at him, only for you to go for the guard’s leg.
Ghost took advantage of your distraction knifing the bastard in the chest, and lowering him to the ground. You didn’t let up on your growls as you barked at the corpse. Ghost gave you a scratch between the ears, and you eased off rubbing against his leg.
“Good dog.” He said. Price and Johnny moved up ahead entering an operating room that still contained some syringes. Gaz found a computer and tried to break in to collect data. Ghost got you to wait at least outside the operating room.
You didn’t hear or really understand what they were discussing. You recognized a few of the words but not many.
“Animal testing… what were they testing?” Price muttered.
“A type of drug?” Soap suggested. “Sure as hell keepin it to themselves.”
“Captain.” Gaz called from the computer, having broken in. Price left the room to see what his sergeant found, instructing Ghost to get Nikolai to be ready with the vehicles. You followed Price, who didn’t slow to make sure you were caught up. They had to work fast, knowing a sniper was above them somewhere. They also needed a way out. Gaz had found more information and files concerning the testing, but you caught wind of something more pressing.
There was a sound the men knew well, but you didn’t. A grenade rolled towards them and while they took cover you picked it up and bolted towards where it came from, tossing it by whipping your head. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough, and was caught in some of the blast. Gaz moved quickly to pull you out while Johnny and Ghost went after the thrower, gunning him and few other’s down, the blast having incapacitated most of them. You whimpered as he got you to cover. Price continued pushing forward, seeing as it would get them out faster at this point. You do your best to stay focused, the pain still remains in your mouth. Your muzzle was dotted with grenade fragments and some burns. The pain made you whimper, but you held strong as the team kept going.
Price lead his team through. You bolted forward again though as he entered an open area, knocking him down just as a shot rang out. Your pained yelp had Price rolling you off of him assessing the damage. The exit was only a few feet away but another shot hit you. Ghost had a chance to take out the sniper before anymore could hit you. Johnny ran up ahead to open the door, and flag down Nikolai. Gaz got you over his shoulder, as Price got up and they made a break for it.
The rest is a blur for you. The bullets got you in the chest and your muzzle was still in a lot of pain. You were losing blood. Nikolai was there in time to collect the team. From there you blacked out. You remember hearing sounds of shouting, and smelling latex.
While you were undergoing surgery the team waited outside. They had been able to focus enough to get their gear and hand in what they found to Laswell, but they were more distracted by you and your condition. Laswell came to find them waiting to see if you would make it. Seeing the four men tense and quiet was something she’d seen more than once. This time there was something different. Affection.
Laswell leaned against the wall next to Price trying to offer some comfort. Even she had to admit you were a good dog. Then the doctor stepped out of the room. The men were all at attention.
“They’ll pull through…though I should mention something odd…” the doctor said a little unsure of himself.
“Go on.” Price urged.
“We didn’t really need to do any stitches just remove the pieces of grenade and bullets, and give them some more blood.” The doctor explained.
“…are you saying they healed on their own?” Ghost asked crossing his arms. The doctor knew how it sounded and their own expression showed no change.
“The dog is asleep, if you would like to check on them.” The doctor offered. Kyle was the first to go in with Johnny following behind. You laid on your side on the table, with some blood still being pumped into you. There were bandages on your wounds and your muzzle. No blood was seeping through. The doctor held up a scalpel.
“Let me show you what I mean.” The doctor said and made a small incision, drawing a little blood. Johnny smacked the doctor’s hand away.
“Leave em alone!” He shouted at the doctor. Ghost got hold of Johnny’s shoulder and got him calm before he could start throwing hands with the doctor. Kyle noticed what the doctor was talking about though. He saw the small cut mend itself quickly.
“Unbelievable.” He said.
You started opening your eyes and sat up a bit, seeing Laswell and Price standing off to the side. Your tail wagged, a little weak. The team couldn’t believe how quickly you recovered. It was insane. Laswell was intent on doing thorough examination and research on the information the 141 had found. This wasn’t normal at all. Price c came over to you and you welcomed him with licks to his hand, happy you didn’t disappear behind that door for good.
@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz
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withwritersblock · 1 day
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Say Love
~Say Love by James TW~
Author's Note: this is inspired by Chimney and Maddie from 9-1-1: such an amazing show. As always italics are flashbacks Summary: Kirby says I love you for the first time Warnings: mention of emotional abuse in relationships Word Count: 1,200 Kirby Dach x fm!reader
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There is something so pretty about the way he eyes her. She was brighter than the sky during a sunset. She was warm and the kindest person he’d ever met. He was in love. He has yet to tell her. He was afraid that she wouldn’t say it back. 
She has been waiting for Kirby to come back for three days. He had scored in a shootout against his former team in Chicago. He called her the second he got back to his hotel room and they talked the entire night. 
She stood against the kitchen counter as his door was pushed open. He smiled widely as he dragged his suitcase inside. “Hey baby,” he mumbled as he rested his suitcase against the wall and walked towards her. She jumped into his arms as she laughed.
“God, I’ve missed you,” she whispered into his ear as she rested her hand on the base of the neck. He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist as he spun her in a circle, “How are you feeling?” she asked as he delicately put her down. His hands were still holding her waist as she rested her hands on his cheek. He smiled.
“Amazing, so glad to be home,” he muttered as he leaned towards her, kissing her urgently. “So glad to see you,” he mumbled against her lips as he guided her backwards towards the couch. He kissed her again as he tightened his grip against her waist. 
“I wish I was there,” she mumbled as she slowly sat down on the couch, keeping his lips close to hers. 
“Me too baby,” he said as he pulled away from her. He looked deeply into her eyes as he lifted his hand and rested it onto her cheek. His thumb slowly ran across her warm cheek. 
The words were on his tongue for the first time in their relationship. He’s spent his entire roadtrip thinking about her and craving her touch. He missed the way she made him feel. He missed when his heart would race just by meeting her eye. 
It was still early, too early to say it but he thought it. He felt the words on his lips and wanted to say them the longer he searched her features. Instead his lips found hers again as he slowly pushed her on her back; climbing on top of her.
She was sitting on their balcony, drinking a cup of coffee as she watched the sunset over Montreal. A place she moved to a year ago because she wanted a new life. A new life that she wasn’t aware of was going to later include a gorgeous man. She had gotten out of a long term relationship that was incredibly toxic. Emotionally hard to be involved in. 
The last thing she ever wanted was to be in a relationship. Until she met a boy who lived in the same apartment building as she did. He was also new to town and also unwilling to be in a relationship. 
All Kirby wanted was a friend that didn’t play hockey. Kirby and Y/N first met while they were getting packages from their mailboxes. After that she invited Kirby up to her apartment. They played Mario Kart and talked about their new lives in Montreal. 
Any time they weren’t busy with other people they would hang out. And after four months, she kissed him and they started dating shortly after. 
She ran her hands over the sweater on her frame as Kirby raised his hand up and knocked it onto Nick’s door. The team was having a get together before the holiday break and Kirby was introducing Y/N for the first time. 
“Come in!” Nick shouted from inside. He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows. She nodded her head as she took a hold of his hand. Leaning towards her, he pressed his lips against her cheek before he pushed open the door. “Kirby man,” Nick shouted as he walked away from Cole.
Nick quickly wrapped his arms around Kirby, “How are you always the last one here?” Nick chuckled as he pulled away, glancing at Y/N.
“Nick, this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he mumbled as he pulled her closer to his side. Y/N smiled kindly towards him.
“Nice to meet you, welcome to the family,” Nick expressed excitedly as he smiled towards her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled as she leaned closer to Kirby. He ran his hand up and down her side.
“Come on, I wanna show you off,” he mumbled against her hair before he kissed the top of her head. She chuckled nervously as she remained attached at his hip.
She rested her head on his chest, as she felt his hands run slow circles across her skin. It was perfect. Just the two of them in bed together, watching the sun rise over the city of Montreal.
Except Kirby was keeping his eyes on Y/N, admiring the sleepiness in her features. The three words were on his tongue as he wanted nothing more than to say them.
“You’re so quiet,” she mumbled before she pressed her lips against his chest. He hummed as his hand started to slowly glide up her skin.
“Just thinking,” he mumbled as she lifted her head up to meet his gaze, his lips curled upward.
She hummed, “Yeah?” she asked as she pursed her lips forward. He hummed as he bit his bottom lip. She furrowed her eyebrows as she smirked softly. “So are you going to tell me?” she asked as she glided her hand up his chest. 
He looked deeply into her eyes, “I love you,” he blurted out. His eyes widened as well as her own. Her lips parted as her heart started to race. “I’m sorry-”
“No, no, don't apologize,” she mumbled as she kissed him. She pulled away and stared into his eyes, “I just haven’t been able to hear those words without flinching in years,” she mumbled as she ran her thumb across his cheek, the beard scratching her skin. He ran his hand up and down her back soothingly. 
“I feel the same way,” she muttered, his smile faltering slightly. “I just don’t know if I can say those exact words,” he clenched his jaw as he furrowed his eyebrows, “I would use those words as a defense against my ex. I never really felt like they meant what they should’ve meant when I would say them. I don’t know if that makes any sense but Kirby, I truly believe you are my soulmate,” she mumbled.
His smile formed on his lips widely again as he scanned her features, “One day, I can say it back,” she muttered. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently. “Say it again,” she mumbled against his lips, meeting his gaze.
“I love you,” he let out, her heart fluttering, “I love you so much,” he expressed.
“I’m gonna need you to say it a lot,” she mumbled as she pecked her lips against his.
“Don’t worry, baby girl, I’ll say it enough for the both of us,” he said before he devoured her lips with his.
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mosneakers · 2 days
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Tycho would go on to break his promise to Coraleye, having told her he’d call her when he gets back to Strangerville. In fact, it's been barely three minutes into his drive, the memory of their last kiss and her soft lips still lingering in his mind like a film reel on loop, when Tycho's resolve crumbles and he reaches for his phone.
"Coraleye..." He swoons as she answers his call.
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Tycho can vividly picture Erwin's smug grin as he imagines him jokingly calling him a pathetic goon. But that doesn't matter to Tycho. Actually, looking back on tonight's events, he can't quite recall what possessed him to feel so jealous—likely just a stressful situation with emotions running high for everyone. Coraleye was right—Erwin is his best friend. And at the end of the day, Tycho gets Coraleye all to himself. He knows this from the way she lovingly promises it through whispers over the phone, stirring butterflies within him.
Tycho: I... I can multitask you know... I just miss you already. One little picture isn't gonna hurt...
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Coraleye: Huh-uh! Not while you're driving, Tycho. You know how I feel about risky stuff like that, safety first.
Tycho: [Frustrated, playful groan] You're killing me, Darling.
Coraleye: That's what I'm trying to avoid.
Tycho: Okay, how about this, I need to stop for gas anyway. Pretty sure the nearest gas station is less than 5—
Coraleye: I'll talk to you soon, Tyke. Love you. [Laughter] Tycho: I- I love you too. Is that a yes or—
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Tycho clumsily juggles his phone while pumping gas, his fingers fumbling with the touchscreen as he eagerly awaits Coraleye's message. Her name pops up on his screen, and it's like a gift from the heavens, his jaw drops when he opens it. Mesmerized by the photo, he struggles to formulate the perfect response. Suddenly, his phone chirps loudly indicating an incoming call, causing him to jump and spill a bit of gas as it overflows onto the pavement. Cursing softly, he quickly wipes his hands and tries to regain his composure before redirecting his attention back to his phone. "Coni," it reads. His stomach drops as he eagerly accepts, his heart racing as he puts the phone to his ear. Tycho: CONI???
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Coni: Hey. You alone right now? Tycho: Hey? Y-yes—Where have you been? Everyone's worried sick about you... Coni: Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Listen— Erwin almost got abducted tonight. Tycho: WHAT? Coni: It was a close call. Right next to his Curio-stand, as he was getting off work. They... they almost had him, but I pulled him in last minute. He didn't know it was me, I was in a different disguise. Tycho: D-did you—
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Coni: Erase his memory? No. I told him that they're going to eliminate him. I needed him to remember it. He went home right after. The news is all over it, Tycho. Vans surrounding the scene as we speak. I can't keep watching him, you'll need to step in. Tycho: I... I'm on the way. Coni... what happened? Between you and Sunglo? Things were going so well, I don't understand. Coni: [Brief pause] He knows. Tycho's head feels like it's spinning in circles. Tycho: [Voice quivering] He... he knows what exactly? [Voice quivering] Everything?
Coni: Not everything. He knows about me. I told him. I was tired, Tycho. Tycho can't argue or question her, he knows exactly how she feels.
Tycho: Does Coraleye know? Coni: [Long sigh] He promised not to tell anyone, but I'd be surprised if he didn't tell her. Tycho: Oh god, I... Tycho begins to hyperventilate, he can feel himself begin to unravel.
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Coni: Just relax. It's all gonna work out, I got it under control. I'm an icon, remember? For now, just focus on getting back to Strangerville and keeping Erwin safe, got it?
Tycho finds a slight reprieve in Coni's reassurance, and he lets himself breathe a little. Tycho: I'll get there as soon as I can. But first, Coni? Coni: Yeah? Tycho: Can you call her? Coraleye? Just so she and... everyone knows you're okay. Glo's worried too. Coni: [Sighs] Sure, Tycho. I'll call her.
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andreawritesit · 1 day
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The Red Storm
This is my first time writing anything related to One Piece and I'm extremely nervous. I haven't written anything in 2 years so please bear with my abysmal grammar.
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Fandom: One Piece
Pair: Shanks x Reader
- I wanted it to be a one shot but I'll have to write it in two parts (or more, who knows) -
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*CRASH!*
This was not how you wanted your morning to start; with a crash so loud, it must’ve been heard across all the seas. Must be those gremlins! you immediately think. Ever since you had agreed to look after those three, your life had become a whole mess. You take a deep breath and get out of bed to take a shower. You have only just put one foot down when you hear Dadan’s scream followed by loud laughter. Of course, they’re at it again. You sigh and hurry up to the bathroom before you are summoned on your devil babysitting duties. Taking your clothes off, you step under the shower, letting the warm water relieve you of your stress for a moment. However, the relief dies down almost immediately as you find your mind going back to the memories you so desperately try to suppress and yet they keep haunting you every day.
-2 years ago, Windmill Village –
“What do you mean you’re leaving without me? You promised me that I could come along the next time!” Your voice echoed in the empty bar. You didn’t care, you were livid. The man put his straw hat on the table and closed his eyes. 
“Look, I’m sorry. I know I promised but where we’re going is not safe at all. You are not ready to go to the Grand Line. It’s very dangerous and I do not want to risk your life-“ Before he could say anything else, you throw a glass at him which he dodges annoyingly easily. He looks at the shattered glass and then at you. “Calm down, please. Let me explain-“
“SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear any excuses! You promised me, Shanks! Leaving without me means this is over, right? You and me?” He looks at you solemnly and tugs you toward himself. You try to push away from him but as soon as you hit his chest, your arms automatically circle around his neck as you try to stop your tears from falling. He holds you close, without saying anything. Hearing his light breaths, you realize this might be the last time you ever see him. You hug him tighter which he reciprocates. 
“Shanks please don’t leave me…”
He doesn’t reply. Not a word. He just kisses the top of your head. After what feels like an eternity, he releases you and you gasp at the sight of his face. There stood Red-haired Shanks, tears coating his slightly flushed cheeks. You put your hand on his cheek and wipe his tears away, while your own tears release from their prison and onto your cheeks. 
“Please forgive me. The path I am going on is very dangerous. I could never drag you into this mess. Maybe you’ll never forgive me. Maybe you’ll never understand. But I’d rather have your hatred than bear your loss.”
You move your hand from his cheek to his hair and touch your forehead to his. You want to be mad at him. You want to hurt him as he was hurting you. But he was right. You had never left the village. You had no idea of the world outside, especially the Grand Line. Even if he does agree to take you along, you’d end up becoming a burden. 
You try to say you understand but your throat feels heavy so you simply nod. Fresh tears paint his face as he cries silently, already mourning the relationship you both had. Ever since he started frequenting the small village, you both stayed close to each other, the closeness only increasing with every meeting. You would wait for him at the docks with Luffy, looking forward to being in his arms again. And now he would never come running down the docks and pick you up into his arms, smothering you in kisses. 
“Hey,” he says softly, “I want you to do something for me.” You chuckle sadly. What could he possibly need from you now…
“I want you to look after Luffy. He’s going to be very sad after we leave. Knowing that you’ll stay with him will give me peace of mind. Please?” 
“Of course, I’ll take care of him.” 
Shanks nods and hugs you again, this time settling you down in his lap. This time he cries loudly and you don’t silence your sobs either. 
The next morning, you wake up to see flowers near your bed with a goodbye note. That was the last time the red-haired storm rustled your life.  
---- present time -----
You don’t realize how long it has been until you hear Dadan knocking at your bathroom door.
“If you don’t come out in a minute, I will break this door apart!” Dadan’s angry voice drags you back to reality and you quickly dry yourself and put some clothes on. As you emerge from the bathroom, Dadan is onto you, grabbing the collar of your new shirt. “Those three gremlins are getting on my nerves! I’ve been calling them for an hour now but they aren’t listening! Gather them or I’ll throw all four of you out of here!”
You sigh and pry your shirt out of her grasp. She takes a step back and raises an eyebrow. “Well?”
“Well, what?” your voice comes out more rude than you wanted it to be. “I mean, where did they go?” you add on quickly.
“The forest, where else! Hurry up and bring their asses back!”
You nod and head out to the forest. You had promised Shanks to look after Luffy but you had no idea what awaited you. After Garp decided to send Luffy to the mountain bandits, you requested to tag along, which he agreed to. You knew it would be dangerous but what you didn’t know was that you were getting a package deal. At first, it seemed that you would go mad over Luffy and Ace but then another one popped up randomly. Now the three of them had become friends and made it their mission to make Dadan’s life a living hell. You were caught in the crossfire. The boys were very fond of you so they often got behind you to escape Dadan’s wrath and Dadan held you responsible for every slight inconvenience caused by them. It was too much sometimes but it was a reprieve. You couldn’t imagine how you would’ve dealt with Shanks’ departure without the three devils. Speaking of whom, you spot them sitting in their tree house. You smile involuntarily and call them out.
“Luffy! Ace! Sabo! Come down. Time to go home or else Dadan won’t give you any food!”
Luffy is the first to come down, of course, he is. He is followed by Sabo and then finally Ace, who is staring daggers at Luffy. You glance at them, feeling the tension rising with every passing second. Luffy, oblivious to his impending ass-whooping, chuckles loudly and tugs at your shirt.
“Let’s go home quickly! Or else I’ll have to sleep hungry!”
You pat his head softly and he gives you the warmest grin in return. Suddenly you’re reminded of Shanks who used to give you the same warm smile whenever you greeted him at the bar. Stupid Shanks! 
Ace lets out a fake cough and suddenly pulls Luffy’s right ear which stretches unnaturally. Luffy screeches like a crow and sends Sabo into a frenzy of laughter. “Ouch!! Ace, what is this for?”
“What is this for? Really? You idiot! When I said don’t go down, why did you jump?”
“Because she said Dadan won’t give us food!”
“Shut up! You broke the brother code! I’m the oldest, you both listen to me!”
Sabo’s face scrunches up at that. “You know, I still think I’m older than you…”
Ace sends the blonde boy a death glare which shuts him up.
Their innocent altercation fills your heart with warmth. You walk up to them and put your hand on Ace’s shoulder. He looks up at you and his cheeks instantly turn pink. The two boys giggle at that and his scowl returns immediately. 
“Ace, come on now. Be easy on your little brother. All he did was obey me.” you say in hopes of pacifying the angry little boy. He sighs and nods. “Well, I’ll let it go because if we don’t return soon, Dadan will be angry at you. But if they do this again, I’ll kick their asses.” You laugh softly and nod in agreement. “Let’s go then.” 
You start walking back to the house with the three gremlins following you, unaware of the red-haired storm that is making its way back into your life. 
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lulublack90 · 18 hours
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Prompt 28 - Skinny Dip
@jegulus-microfic March 28 Word count 1058
Previous part First part
Regulus woke with his legs tangled with James’s. He’d left a note for his parents telling them they’d had a lead in the assignment Voldemort had given them. In fact, he was certain that Remus was extremely close to their quarry. 
James stirred. He pulled Regulus closer to his body and buried his face in his chest. 
“Mmmmm, I could get used to this.” He peppered kisses all over Regulus’s chest. Regulus didn’t put up any fight, enjoying the moment far too much. 
“Come on. We’d better get up. We have a lot to do today.” He pulled away from James and stretched his whole body, which just brought James right back to him. “James, get off. We have to go.” He giggled as James snuffled into his hair. 
“No, don’t want to. I’m just gonna keep you here in this bed with me.” 
A loud banging at the door soon stopped them.
“Come on, love birds. We’ve got priceless heirlooms to destroy.” Evan called as he banged on Sirius and Remus’s door and his sisters. 
It took a while for all of the Thestrals to gather that morning. But eventually, they were apparating into the caves outside of Hogsmeade. 
They followed the Gryffindors into the forest as they knew where they were going. It had made more sense to go together this way than to walk up to Hagrid’s cabin, seeing as how they’d all ended up at Evan’s last night. 
Regulus held the small chest tightly in his arms. He wasn’t about to lose them now, not after everything they’d been through to get them.
It took less than an hour to get to the part of the forest the Marauders wanted to use. They stopped in an almost perfectly round clearing. You could feel the magic thrumming through the area. It was ancient and swirled around them. Regulus placed the chest in the centre of the grassy circle and unlocked it. The ancient magic reacted to the dark magic within. It became hostile. The forest around them darkened, blocking out what little light there was.
Remus stepped forward, pressing his hands against one of the trees that lined the clearing. Regulus stared in awe as the magic slowly backed off and formed a protective barrier between them and the rest of the forest. 
Remus smiled as he took his hands away from the tree. 
“Thank you.” He whispered. 
“What was that?” Lily asked the question the others must have been thinking. Well, Regulus, Barty and Evan. Everyone else didn’t seem so shocked. 
“Werewolf,” Remus shrugged. “I’m more in tune with the natural magics than most. The forest knows what we have, and it isn’t happy. I told it we have come to destroy them, so the forest is going to keep us contained in here until the Horcruxes are all gone. So please don’t try and pass the border, or you’ll be sorry.” He looked pointedly at Barty when he said the last part. 
Regulus tuned out whatever Barty had replied. He took the Gaunt ring out of the box and laid it on the grass. 
“Are you ready then?” He asked. They immediately formed a circle around him and watched as Regulus poured Basilisk venom from one of the vials onto it. 
A thick black liquid oozed out of it, and a blood-curdling scream. They all ducked for cover, pressing their hands to their ears. But nothing happened. When they looked back, all that was left of the ring was a twisted mass of blackened metal and the stone. Regulus cast a few spells over it. 
“The Horcrux is gone, but I don’t understand why the venom didn’t destroy the stone.” He handed it to James to take care of while he set up the next Horcrux. They could deal with that later. 
Next up was the diary. It reacted much the same as the ring had. There was, however, a lot more of the inky liquid seeping out, as though the notebook had been filled with writing that they just hadn’t been able to see. 
Regulus was glad they’d managed to gather as much Basilisk venom as they had, as it looked like they’d be using most, if not all, of it. 
Hufflepuffs cup twisted and melted into an unrecognisable blob, the fragment of soul shattering and dissolving into nothing. 
He held the diadem in his hands. It was truly beautiful he didn’t want to destroy it. But for the sake of the wizarding world, he had to. 
More Basilisk venom dropped onto the delicate tiara, and it spilt and cracked into three pieces before it melted as the wailing scream pierced their ears again.
Regulus reached into the chest and took out the last Horcrux. The Locket. He placed it on the ground and looked at his friends, who stood around him in a loose circle, pointing their wands at the Horcrux. 
“Last one. Are we ready?” They nodded, and he raised the final vial of venom. But before he could let a single drop fall, the locket opened, and his mother appeared before him. He stumbled backwards, somehow managing not to spill the venom. 
Walburga sneered at him. Her mouth opened, and Regulus knew whatever she was about to say would devastate him. 
Sirius blocked his view, grabbing the vial and pouring the entire thing into the open locket.
“Piss off you evil bitch!” He snarled. Walburga screamed in a vortex of black smoke before vanishing into nothing. The locket was gone. Obliterated by the amount of venom poured on it. 
They’d done it. All the Horcruxes were gone. Shakily, he got to his feet and was barrelled over by his friends as they all whooped and cheered in triumph. 
The forest’s magic let them pass, now happier. It pressed close, almost like a hug, before releasing them. 
They came upon a stream that fed a large pool of water as they walked back to the edge of the forest.
“Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m going to skinny dip in that pool!” Barty cried as he vanished his clothes and dove into the clear water. “Come on, it’s refreshing, especially after that madness.” He jabbed his thumb back towards the clearing. The others looked at each other and, after a collective shrug, joined Barty in the pool.   
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ataraxiaspainting · 12 hours
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Fly Me to the Moon.
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Yan Jingliu x F Reader.
Synopsis: “You looked at me like I was made of stardust, and told me that even the moon above us could not compare to the brightness in my eyes.”
Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, and unhealthy relationships.
Word Count: 1k.
i’m so sorry if i’m wrong about xianzhou landscapes lol…
*~*~*~*
The Xianzhou Luofu’s eclipses are as rare as someone who can walk on water.
Moons come and go across the Flagships’ skies as they make their way throughout the galaxy, and so do the suns. They all change from pink to red to gray, and none of them stay for long. Unlike what the Abundance teaches its creations, life has its way of teaching that nothing lasts forever. Permanence is but a fantasy and only those who are blind fools seek out such a blasphemous dream.
But if it is a blind fool you must be to see her whole for the first time, you will gladly be one.
You met just a fragment of her oh so long ago, under the very covered sun that was oh so rare. You dared not to look away from her as she moved towards you like clockwork, her sword dragging across flowered ground. The moon was white, and so were the blossoms. So was her hair, which looked like a bundle of shooting stars. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown either. An expression as neutral as water.
She had a black blindfold over her eyes that had the sign of a crescent moon.
To you, she was brighter than the eclipse above.
You two moved together in a circle, a cautious waltz, but also an enticed one. Curiosity.
“You are a Cloud Knight, aren’t you?” She asked. The grip on her blade’s handle loosened just slightly. “I can tell by the spear you hold.”
You nodded, and a chuckle quieter than the gentlest wind escaped her lips.
You took a step backward as she took one forward. It was not out of fear but at the very least well-meant care—a dance crafted from years of training under daylight and starlight.
Now, hundreds of moons later, you take a step backward as she now takes three forward. Fear controls you like a puppet as you point your spear, which has by this point been remodeled and repaired from many battles with the Abominations of the Abundance. Daylight and starlight become one with the same snow-white eclipse in the sky.
She is smiling. Her sword no longer glides along sprouted soil, but a stone path painted with the blood of your fellow soldiers. Her blindfold is off, her eyes the very image of a hollow, depraved husk. Mara.
She does not chuckle when your hands shake, but rather she loudly laughs.
It is the farthest thing from gentle.
Jingliu has many presences, but none of them last for very long. Some stay for a week at most without issue, but those are rare and so far distanced from one another. She lets you leave, most days, to go buy tea from the market or to go sit down and feed the birds or to let you practice aiming your weapon at the training dummy she placed outside your living quarters. 
When she first brought you here, she told you that you are free to duel her whenever you wish. Win, she said, and you can leave whenever you wish too.
The only thing is you can never manage to even touch her.
The uncharted areas around the cottage she acquired for both of you are dark, and the only places where there is light are the ones that have straight and narrow paths, paths to the few places Jingliu allows you to go unsupervised. Or is the definition of unsupervised in Jingliu’s world is to have you watched from a few kilometers back?
You cannot tell. Nor do you want to know the answer, because you know the truth will stomp on your hope like it was a lowly insect.
You also don’t walk alone at night for reasons like those. You cannot see anything, only hear and think.
You cannot see Jingliu if she is watching you from behind.
Even though she swears on her honor that she does not follow you closely.
You can hear Jingliu’s breathing though, how desperate she can sound, or how calm she can sound. It all depends on what moon shines through the brightest.
Meals with Jingliu are always the same.
No matter what her mood is at that particular moment, she always stares at you from across the table.
Sometimes her hair is well-kept, on days when she is happier and more active in her self-care. Sometimes she bats her eyes at you. Sometimes she seems to stare past you, to the unlit fireplace or the vase of flowers near the entrance door. Her stares can turn into glares in an instant, or her glares can turn into loving gazes. You wish most days that she wouldn’t be so distant, but you don’t want her to be suffocating with her affection either.
You just want the best of both worlds. An eclipse.
“How is it?”
Your attention is abruptly captured. Her gaze appears slightly less serene yet intensifies, while yours remains filled with doubt. Your hand ceases the motion of guiding the fork towards your mouth, descending listlessly onto the table.
“Is something the matter, [First]?” Genuine confusion on both of your parts.
“...N-No.” As you lower your gaze and gently shut your eyelids, your whole body quivers uncontrollably, leaving you powerless over its movements. “It’s good.”
“Are you sure?” Your gaze evades her as if being controlled by a small prey animal’s instinct. Your heart races, as if on the verge of a sudden collapse. “You can tell me if something is wrong with the food.”
Your fingers interlock with such force that you fear they might leave imprints on your skin.
“No, no… it’s good, really.”
She tilts her head. “You aren’t eating, though.” You hear the sound of a chair being dragged, a sure sign that she is standing up. “You can be truthful with me, dearest. I won’t be upset.”
Gazing out the window, you offer no response. The sound of her sigh reaches your ears, yet your focus lies elsewhere. A single leaf gracefully twirls upon the surface of the nearby pond, without a care in the world. You hope it will not drown.
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henrysglock · 20 hours
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[Kazoo Kid voice] Wait A Minute...Who Are You?
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ANOTHER installment of the Cracks and Mirrors series...this time tied (haha) to Brenner's ties. Yeah. Ties. Plural. This is going to be a long one. Where to begin.
#1: The Ties
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If you can make sense of that, more power to you. Here's what you really need to know:
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Meaning these 5 guys are different from each other:
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Wonderful! I hate it here.
Interestingly enough, this guy is the only guy we see the doors to El's stairwell with:
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Now, it finally makes sense why none of these blood patterns match:
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BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT THE SAME GUY/SCENARIO.
All of this, of course, ties back to what I said in September about Ten's changing test room regarding shot choices, prop movements, and color grading fuckery: It's not the same room continuously.
These two, however, seem to be set in variations on the same universe:
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And they both end in an infuriating camera cut to (in Brenner's case) a completely different guy. (smash cut to my post about how if El's experience is lifted from Brenner's memories, then Brenner should have seen One killing Two, like El did)
Anyway, what we can glean from this is that Running Brenner's universe is one of the top row, but not any of the bottom row:
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(i.e. It's at least a variation on a) the taped version of El's first NINA experience and b) Henry's electrocution. It is not, however, any of the other versions of El's NINA entrance, as far as we've been shown...which is consistent with the multiple versions of NINA we seem to be seeing overall.)
Okay. Good? Good. Moving on.
#2: Tying the Ties (to the Rainbow Room)
As I just mentioned, the Brenner in the hallway isn't the Brenner who runs into the Rainbow Room. And as far as I can tell, Rainbow Room Brenner doesn't appear in the hallway shots:
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Rainbow Room Brenner, as far as I can tell, seems to be this Brenner:
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And so, of course, the part you all knew was coming...
#3: Tying the Ties (to the Cracks)
Yeah. We're fucked. We got a bunch of different guys.
If you're just tuning in, I suggest you take a peek at the original Cracks and Mirrors post (the other installments of which can be found in my pinned post)...but for time being I've lifted the most relevant portion:
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Now. These cracks have associated Brenners:
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No Gate and Gate, respectively.
Not only are these two Brenners not the same guy, they're also not any of the guys we saw running around or the guy who burst into the Rainbow Room:
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Adding lines would make this more confusing, so just go ahead and squint at them all. You'll see what I'm on about pretty quickly, since I've circled the important bits.
But...Surprise! We now have seven Brenners! (My apologies for the fucking crunchy as hell "looks like the visual representation of an earrape video" cracks Brenners, it's just that the lighting is shit and I can see fuck all if I leave them as-is)
So. A Tale Of Seven Brenners...or so you THOUGHT. (Because fuck me, that's why.)
#4: More Fucking Ties!!
Of course, none of these Brenners are this weird fucker with blood all over his face:
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Many such cases, because none of them account for this Brenner from earlier in 4.01 who's shown with a) an incorrect tie and b) incorrect hair (shown here with "correct" Brenner) either:
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...Which I talked about here.
YUP. WE HAVE AT LEAST NINE BRENNERS.
Now...I still have questions about this last Brenner ^ being shown as a reflection in his mirror at home, as opposed to Brenner in the massacre who does not reflect in the Rainbow Room mirror (both in 4.01 AND 4.08, respectively):
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But for now...that's beside the point.
Closing Tangential Note:
Isn't it funny how everything electronic is going super haywire...except the camera and the card reader...and the lights in the hallway that doesn't exist on any of the HNL specs we have..........funny how that works:
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You could argue that the camera and card reader are on a generator/backup circuit...I just didn't think powers-usage picked and chose which circuits it affected like that.
And before anyone goes "Oh but James, there is a light flickering in the hallw—" YEAH. THE ONE SINGULAR LIGHT HENRY JUST SMASHED WITH THE BODY OF A GROWN MAN. LOOK BEHIND EL WHEN THE DOUBLE DOORS OPEN. FLASHING LIGHTS? I DON'T THINK SO.
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AS OPPOSED TO WHEN POWERS ARE BEING USED NEARBY, WHEREIN ALL THE LIGHTS FLASH:
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OKAY. OKAY. SO IT'S WEIRD THAT THE LIGHTS IN THE HALL BEHIND THE DOOR WOULDN'T BE FLASHING. THEY SHOULD BE FLASHING. BUT THEY'RE NOT.
It's almost like, by passing through those doors, El has entered the "plot", so to speak. Like when you hit a save checkpoint, or leave a "safe" space in a video game (staring at you, Resident Evil: Biohazard). She wanders through the safe but horrific "context" sequence, then she enters the unskippable "villain lore drop" cutscene, and then she's in the Boss Fight sequence. Babygirl, you are just a cog in the machine!!
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deunmiu-dessie · 2 days
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ⅳ▬ ⁽ 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑒 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎: ₂˖₁ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎: unedited----- attempted murder, fluff(??), angst. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ꒰shade ₊⊹ gn!reader꒱
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thinking of a shade, just a little more powerful and smarter than the rest, becoming your protector. little ol' you who's had severe insomnia since you were a child. ♡
shade who didnt want to at first, since it usually didn't meddle in human affairs; besides you were nothing special. ♡
shade who ignores you for the first couple of days before begrudgingly shooing away the pesky, lower demons who crawl over your body. ♡
shade who lays next to you and wraps you within its arms ˙◠˙
shade who finds immense satisfaction in watching you sleep for the first time in a long time. ♡
shade who watches as the demons instead prey on your family. ♡
shade who is too enamored with you to even care. ♡
shade who watches your family fall apart. ♡
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𝒴 our lashes flutter open in the inky black room, eyes reflecting a glossy sheen from the remnants of sleep, all while the sound of your sniveling fills the darkness that surrounds you. Against your pale complexion, the deep, dark circles under your eyes become prominent, now moistened by the tears streaming down your cheeks in small rivers. You struggle to recall the last time you experienced a full night's sleep, the memory fading away as you reach the tender age of seven.
     Despite the numerous prescriptions, medical professionals, therapists, and even herbal teas you have tried, none have succeeded in lulling you to sleep. You remain confined to your bed, yearning for the day when your eyes will finally close and you’lll find respite in sleep, yet that day never arrives. Occasionally, you manage to drift off into a state of unconsciousness, albeit for a mere five or ten minutes, but it never feels like true sleep. Every now and then your plagued by nightmares—disturbing and horrifying dreams that startle you awake, leaving you gasping for breath.
Ever since you were a small child, you had been wanting, no craving to have a good night's rest– though your weren't so sure anymore. Not if the black abyss that threatens to swallow you whole almost every night is the thing greeting you happily when you finally succumb to the person that is sleep. 
    Nevertheless, you refuses to let it impact you social life. Each morning, as the sun warmly embraces you with a melancholic smile, you rise from your bed and diligently apply layers of concealer and foundation to mask the exhaustion evident in your eyes.  Peering into the mirror, you practice a smile, willing your eyes to sparkle, and whisper softly to yourself, "I'm okay."
  You're not okay, you swerve gently in and out of traffic, eyelids heavy as you force yourself to work. All you want is to sleep, to feel normal again. Deep down, you knows that what you yearn for is something you can never truly have, but yiu can always ‘dream’.
     As the day finally draws to a close, you retreat to your bed – the same bed that bears the imprint of your body from countless nights, the same pillow that holds your thoughts and tears captive, and the same dusty dream catcher that fails to capture any dreams. You're anxious for what your mind might conjure up tonight, but you embrace it with ease – slipping beneath your cozy comforter and switching off the lamp.
     A cool warmth envelops your body, your tense muscles finally finding release, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. You nestle yourself into that snug cocoon – savoring the way it makes your eyes grow heavy with the blissful weight of sleep. It's not the kind of sleep that startles you awake in a panic every night, but rather one that feels natural and inviting.
  You're too comfortable to notice the faint outline of a body beside you, mind too far gone to notice the emaciated arms that tighten themselves around your body, pressing your form into the depths of its torso. Even if you were of sound mind, you would simply attribute any strange sensations to your lack of sleep. 
   That night you sleep for the first time in twelve years, without any nightmares to ruin the unusual but sweet moment. You, this time, don't greet the sun as it rises in the sky, no, you don't wake up until late evening, waving goodbye to the sun as it drifts away from your sight.
    Suddenly, your alarm blares from your nightstand, reminding you of your impending night shift. Dread fills you as you recall the eerie occurrences that often plague you during these dark hours– shadows come to life, items are in places you didn’t put them and customers come in faceless. 
  You feel fine today, energized even. You don't want to push your luck though; and so when you leave for work, passing your mother and older sister- who seem to be completely out of it, you grab an energy drink and wave them goodbye. 
    You worked diligently and quickly that night, your manager thoroughly surprised that your movements aren’t sluggish anymore and so he praises you enthusiastically– you can only smile in thanks as you rings up another customer. 
      The night goes on smoothly, and as the sun begins to rise and wave its warmth at you, you realize that the energy drink is still next to you, untouched. You're tired from working the night though and you clock out as soon as the time strikes 6AM. 
  Cool brisk air greets you as you exit the gas station, wisps of cold brushing  your cheeks while you walk to your car. Excitement fills you as you look forward to finally getting some rest after a long day. However, a lingering sense of caution remains, reminding you that what occurred earlier might have been a mere coincidence; and so the car ride home is made up of your thumb tapping against the steering wheel and the sound of your heart pumping quickly. Silently, you ease open the door to the house, moving with delicate steps as you enter. You gently places your keys into a bowl, its transparent purple hue catching the light. You hang up your thin jacket and slide out of your shoes, placing them in front of the shoe closet haphazardly. As you ascend the staircase, your movements are hushed, making sure to avoid any creaks on the staircase. You reach your room door, a contented sigh escaping your lips.   You plop down on your bed without a second thought, still clad in your work attire. With the room pitch black, You sleep easily. Cocooned in warmth once more, your body relaxes itself. Despite feeling a slight pressure on your body, you pay it no mind.
    Sleep comes quick for you, but not your family. The moment your head touches the pillow, their nightmares start to rear their ugly heads, their once peaceful sleep is no more. 
   The dark figure that graces you with sweet dreams, relishes in the way your skin gains color, the way your dark circles lighten and your forehead creases smoothe out. You weren't special in any way, many humans out there had the exact same condition that you did- maybe even a bit worse off than you.
 The entity couldn't resist being irresistibly drawn to you, despite its own reservations. Seeing a human with so much potential- wasted, was excruciating. So, it clings onto you tightly, using its presence as a protective barrier against the demons that are inexplicably lured by your human essence and dormant state.     However, the shade finds itself far from bored. It observes as your chest rises and falls with each breath, watches as your lips curve sporadically with sleeping ticks; and the serene expression that graces your face. It can even discern the muffled whimpers and groans emanating from the rest of your family in the adjacent hallway, as the demons voraciously feed on their fear and anguish, draining their life force. The shade doesn’t care if your family suffers for a bit longer though, now they can fill your shoes. It was only fair.   Your lashes flutter and then open at 8:19 PM, you can hear the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen just down the stairs and the soft jazz music that only plays when your mom is cooking. You slide out of bed and pad softly out of the room, stretching your body as you walk down the stairs.
"Good morning," you playfully mumble to your older sister, who is seated at the kitchen island.  Your eyebrows knit together in confusion when your sister doesn't reply. Curiosity piqued, you took a few steps closer, gasp of surprise quickly stifled. Jo-Lene’s face is pale, her lips are chapped and her cheeks a bit sunken in. Around her eyes are dark circles that the girl has never gotten before. You cups your sister's face in your hands, titling it back and forth. “ Have you stayed up late working on your book?” Jo shakes her head, softly removing your hands from her cheeks. The older of the two of you shrugs her shoulders and covers a yawn with her hand.  "I haven't been getting much sleep lately."
   Slowly, she trails off and shakes her head, taking a moment to savor the dark coffee in her cup. "You know, besides the fact that I can't sleep, I also have the most terrible nightmares," she admits. You nod in understanding, settling down beside her and grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. "You're starting to sound just like me," You tease, playfully rubbing her shoulder to offer comfort.
   With a slow fade in her voice, she trails off and shakes her head, taking a deliberate sip of her dark coffee. "You know, it's not just me. Mom and Dad struggle with sleep too," she reveals. You glance at your mother, eyes widening in disbelief. "You're not kidding," You bite into your banana before pushing it against the side of your cheek to speak. “Weirdly? I’ve been able to sleep for the past 2 days. No nightmares; and for hours at a time.” 
Your mother stops chopping up vegetables, mouth slightly ajar and eyebrows raised. “Oh! Honey, that's amazing, I’m so happy for you. How did you do it?” You can't recall doing anything out of the ordinary, except praying to sleep well.   You shrug your shoulders and chew the banana some more before swallowing. “I didn’t do anything, it just happened.” Jo nudges you with a smile. “Maybe you’re cured.” You give her a sarcastic smile, grabbing her coffee and taking a sip. "I highly doubt it, probably just a one-time thing."
   “Also, this could be temporary for you guys as well. I’m sure it’ll pass soon.” 
  Little did they know, this temporary situation was about to become a never-ending nightmare. Days turned into weeks, and your restful slumber continued while the rest of the family suffered from sleepless nights. As sleep deprivation took its toll, the atmosphere in the house became increasingly tense. Your fathers short fuse ignited violent outbursts, leaving you helpless as you watch your family crumbled before your eyes. Initially, you played the role of peacemaker, but as time went on, resentment grew.
   As the weeks pass, younotices a shift in the house. Your family seems to be keeping their distance, observing your peaceful sleep and well-rested demeanor with suspicion. Slowly, they begin to direct their frustrations and animosity towards you.
  You learn to sleep with your door locked, especially after a harrowing night where you wake up to an alarming pressure against your neck, feeling your father's chubby, thick hands squeezing your throat. Determined to protect yourself, you start sleeping with your door locked and even go as far as barricading it, when your mother begins sleeping beside you, clutching a knife tightly between the two of you.   Your once close-knit family becomes a source of fear and suspicion, leading you to distance yourself and cut off communication. Preferring solitude, you opt to order food instead of joining them for dinner and secretly slip out of your window to go to work. You’re consumed by terror when it comes to your family, but you refuse to surrender to the sleepless nights you endured in the past.
 Even if it kills you, you think your family can suffer for a little longer. You’ve dealt with severe Insomnia since you were little, and you were still sane. As a sharp knock resonates through the door, your body tenses. You hear your sister's gentle, drowsy voice calling out, "Are you awake?" Though cautious, you respond with a soft hum, ensuring Jo-Lene can hear you. “I want to apologize. Mom and Dad have gone a bit crazy.” You cut Jo off with a scoff. “A bit? Dad tried to strangle me and Mom isn’t any better.”  Jo is silent for a moment before sniffling. “You're right, which is why I think you need to leave.” You blinked owlishly at the door, eyebrows furrowing. “What? What do you mean?” 
   “Mom and Dad have set up an account to transfer money to you.” A small envelope is slid underneath your door. “Find a motel to stay at until you think you’re ready for an apartment.” You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating your decision.  "Ok, then what.” Jo shrugs despite you not being able to see her. “We’ll see each other on Holidays?” She jokes softly but you don't laugh. 
   “For how long?” 
   “Until we can figure out this whole situation.” 
   You hum before getting out of bed and grabbing the envelope that has the credit card in it. “Okay. I’ll leave.” 
   You leave in the morning, without saying goodbye to your family and without looking back. You smile softly at the faint, dark outline of the entity next to you and sit on a bench in front of a bus stop. 
  “ Thank you.”
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taka-chan · 3 days
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when I was making that edit, the part about self love
"To love one's self is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. We are all limited by something. We are all guilty of something."
hits just as hard as it did the first time, but when I first heard/read Vessel's message, it had irreplaceable effect on my perspective (he is so honest in this message, good lord).
Either way, for me back then, he changed the usual narrative about selflove that you see a lot—to just love yourself and how to do it—which often requires you to ignore the negative feelings (don't do that, kids). For me, selflove was always something that I picked up and put effort into and then it always failed anyway. Because it was hard.
It had a deep impact on my understanding of it, to hear Vessel acknowledge that it's difficult to love and care for someone that you are angry at, for someone you blame, someone that you find responsible for the bad turn of events. We are all limited by something. And yes some guilt can be cured by "if you wouldn't blame others for the same thing, be fair and don't blame yourself either" but sometimes we did terrible things we would blame others for, and would find hard to forgive.
For him to say that openly, we are all guilty of something, was a turning point for me, back then in august of last year. Mind that I was already in therapy for months at this time, but because I wasn't exactly open (just ask my friends how it takes 3-4 years for me to open up and there is still no one who knows everything about me), most effort just bounced off me.
The music first started it all, because it is so hard not to dive into your feelings, and I was facing a lot of surpressed emotions. But then his message opened a closed little door where I was hiding that I don't love myself because I am guilty of things that are very difficult to forgive.
Since then, in autumn of last year especially, I sure did go through the hurricane of "it has to get worse before it gets better" phase because facing everything as it truly happened was damn hard and sometimes I cried for days and didn't sleep for multiple nights. But now I did come out on the other side, much lighter (this bough has broken through, I must be someone knew hehe), and with a lot of work ahead but now I do know that my worst versions deserve respect and dignity and I will grant them forgiveness one day.
So no, Vessel didn't save me, or anyone, but he was the catalyst in my healing, the one who changed my direction from running in circles for years, to a very painful path that led me where I am now, which is not a good place but a better one.
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miilkyymoon · 3 days
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⟢ ﹒ Overstimulating Him (Ft. Sub BF)
Summary: Your BF (insert character name) woke up in the morning at a regular time as usual but there was a problem. He woke up from an erotic/intimate dream that was about you, but what made it worse was he kept thinking about it whenever he tried to clear his mind, but anyways more-so to solve his problem he shyly asks you to help him!
— NSFW, MDNI 18+
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Well it wasn’t exactly a regular day for you guys when ya’ll first woke up. Thank god, there was no noisy alarm clock.
His head was too heavy to get out of bed, and his limbs were so heavy they almost seemed numb. He lay there in silence for several minutes, staring blankly at the ceiling. A few minutes passed where, he decided to turn over to face you.
Your face was still buried in your pillow, but even though it was only an inch or two away from him, he couldn’t really see it. Just darkness. Your hair fanned across your pillow, your chest moving up and down with each slow breath. It made him feel warm inside. You were so… cute.
He sighed and turned to face you again, trying not to move around too much as he did.
“Babe…?” His voice came out a little hoarse.
You didn’t reply, just hummed in response.
“Babe wake up…” Nothing. He gently shook you by the shoulders, trying to wake you up a bit more.
Finally, a small groan came from the back of your throat. You blinked sleepily at him, before rubbing your eyes and slowly sitting up straight.
“I…need your help..” He whispered hoarsely. You looked at him with confusion and concern on your face.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong babe?” You said softly. He leaned down towards you to kiss your forehead, before pulling you into a tight hug, burying his face against your shoulder.
He felt so embarrassed he might cry.
“It’s embarrassing, I know. But I can’t stop thinking about…you know…” You nodded in understanding.
“I had this dream where we’re in some sorta. . .intimate ...moment and then we’re like...together naked and it was amazing and all, I mean it was great. And... now I’m in a bit of a predicament… And I have no idea how to help myself with all these stupid thoughts that keep popping up when I try to concentrate or think about something else.” He quickly grabbed the shark plush displayed on the bed beside him and hid his face into it, muffling the whimpers that wanted to escape through his lips.
His girlfriend rubbed soothing circles on his back and ran her fingers through his hair, hoping to calm him down. She smiled fondly, thinking to herself that this is probably the best thing that could happen right now.
“Shh honey… I understand… I can try to make you feel better like always , if that’s what you want me to do. Just let me know. I love hearing you talk, you know. Even if you’re a little crazy when you go off about your hyperfixations. I can listen to you all day.” Her words calmed the panic that threatened to take over.
He peeked from behind the plush toy, looking at her with his one eye. Her expression told him she meant every word. His mouth curled up into a soft smile, and a chuckle escaped from his lips.
He kissed her cheek sweetly, before turning over onto his back once more, still holding the plushie tightly. She smiled brightly, loving the feeling of him hugging her close.
“Could you help me then? Please.” The last part was muffled into the plushie, but it was clear he needed comfort in another way,
She held back a giggle and laid down on top of him. She pulled him tightly against her body, allowing his face and arms to be hidden against her shirt.
He squeezed her tighter, burying his face in her collarbone.
“I’m here Honey, don’t worry…” She whispered.
“If it makes you feel any better, I love listening to you talk. When you’re passionate, I feel like there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hear you talk. That’s what makes you unique and wonderful. So don’t ever forget that okay?”
He nodded against her.
As long as she was with him, he could face anything. She smiled and planted small kisses on his forehead.
After a minute, she sat up and placed a finger on the side of his neck. He looked up at her questioningly, and she grinned and began tracing tiny circles on his skin.
The gesture helped calm down his racing pulse and anxiety slightly. He had a tint of pink across his face as he pointed to his pants and mumbled under his breath.
“Help me with them please…”
She chuckled.
She untied his pants easily, sliding down them until they pooled around his feet. He tried not to look at her as she reached for the hem of his boxers, and lifted the waistband. His breathing picked up speed. She smirked teasingly.
“Is this okay?” Before answering, he simply nodded.
She pushed his boxers down enough to reveal a large erection, which she gently traced with her hands and kissed. He gasped and pressed himself closer to her, feeling her tongue slide across his sensitive tip.
As she stroked him lightly, it sent chills down his spine. “I’ve heard men get so excited just from being touched.” She teased.
Her hand moved from his cock to stroke his balls, causing him to whimper quietly.
He gripped her hair, tugging lightly on a strand. “That feels good doesn’t it?”
‘Damn right it does’ was the unsaid thought.
Her nails raked down the length of his cock, causing him to squirm and moan quietly.
“Good boy.” She praised, before continuing to tease him further.
He let out a deep sigh, trying to control his breathing, while her tongue began to swirl around his cock, teasing his slit, and sucking him roughly like he was the last source on the earth. She sucked a particularly hard peak, causing him to shudder.
The sound he made was primal, yet erotic.
“You like that?” She asked huskily in his ear, causing his head to jerk forward.
“Mm hmm, just like that…” The words slipped past his lips without thinking about it, before his breathing returned to normal.
If she tried to come up and tried to tease him he would instinctively push her head back down onto his dick. She understood why he was so tense, but the sight of him panting and flushed was definitely worth it.
“Mmh-…Fuck~” Was all he could manage to say in between panting breaths. She kept going down on him almost to the point where she is practically gagging on his cock, causing him to thrust up against her mouth. His legs trembled as he bucked his hips frantically in response to her efforts. His heart pounded in his chest and the scent of sweat mixed with arousal filled the air.
It was almost nauseating to breathe. Almost.
He could handle anything short of that.
He bit down on his lip harshly as his mind was consumed with images of you and her fucking him senseless as well.
Not only was he acting pathetic, he couldn’t deny how good he felt, but he was becoming too overstimulated to the point where he was afraid he was gonna cum soon.
A few moments later, he released an audible groan, and the tension left his muscles as he felt his entire body relax, sinking down onto the mattress as his orgasm faded. He let out a whine and buried his face in the plushie once more, completely ignoring everything else around him except you.
“...I’m sorry I feel like such an asshole for pushing your head down onto my dick like that…” He muttered softly, voice full of guilt. She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.
“Oh c’mon baby, it’s fine… you know I don’t mind it at all…” She cooed softly in response.
His blush deepened even more and he buried his face in the pillow. He knew she was teasing him again, but she also understood that he was extremely embarrassed. She shifted herself up on her knees above him and pecked his cheek.
He finally turned his head to meet her gaze, and she cupped his jaw and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Just so you know, I would do absolutely anything for you…” She whispered in his ear. His eyes widened, a small smile playing upon his lips. He loved hearing those words from you.
It made him feel so special to someone other than his father who had never been truly interested or interested in him.
She leaned down to place her lips directly next to his ear. “I love your voice…” He said softly.
“Your voice is like music to my ears…” She continued, her own cheeks flushing a light pink.
They both blushed like teenagers and shyly glanced away. She brushed her hair out of her face and smiled warmly at him. He returned the smile and kissed her passionately, pulling her flush against his chest.
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‧₊˚✩ - Freminet, Ga-Ming, Itadori Yuji, Megumi Fushiguro, Scar, Kiryu Twins, Boothill, Sampo Koski, Nuevillette, Wriothesely, and Many More. . .
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A/N: This is kind of like a bit self-indulgent because this is based off a fun time with my boyfriend, although yes yes I already know to get the other requests done !!
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mvffy0 · 2 days
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“No Words Necessary”
Jabashiri Nagare x Gn!Reader
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idc how shit this is if i didnt write for jabshiri i would’ve exploded
I didnt read over this ignore grammar mistakes ‼️
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All afternoon, you could not shake the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. You impatiently tapped your foot behind the register counter, watching the seconds tick by and praying for your shift to end. The evening air was heavy and thick with unrelenting dread. The air in the cornerstore was stuffy, and the way the sunset cast an irate red glow through the glass windows and into the shop did nothing to appease the queasiness in your stomach. This feeling persisted until Marito and Outa, two close friends of your boyfriend, suddenly appeared at the little corner shop you were employed at, solemn and hurt looks chiseled in their features. 
You went to Jabashiri’s side as soon as you could. Your mind was running in circles, and your heart was in a loop of clenching painfully and then beating at abnormal speeds over and over again. Nagare, your Nagare, had just lost to Matakara, the same guy he’s had a rivalry with ever since you could remember. Marito didn't give you all the details, just that he’d gotten the shit beat out of him, and it was by no means a fair fight. The siguma leader looked almost as pained as you did, and as you pulled up to the Nagara residence, you dashed to reunite with the aggrieved boy. 
A pink tuft of hair, sticking out from all ends and sporting countless amounts of rubble and stone, exited Jabashiri’s room. The owner’s face was downcast and littered with bruises. You recognized it as Hagure and sped over, questioning his health. He assured you that he was fine; however, Ryu seemed to be doing worse than he was.
“It wasn’t…” His face morphed into one of shame as he clenched his fists. He thought that claiming it wasn't a fair fight would make him look weak in your eyes. 
“Matakara isn’t like this. He’d never hit a man who’s down, let alone one who's being protected by someone else.” 
He excused himself and quickly left.
You immediately understood and could only solemnly gaze at Jabashiri’s shut door. You could not even begin to imagine the shame he must be feeling right now. This life of fighting, his rivalry, his entire gang—you knew these were endlessly important to him, which is why you did your best to support him in any way you could. Cleaning his cuts, cheering him on, sneaking him snacks from your store—heck,the first time you met him was in that same store, when he was fighting off some drunkard who was harassing you! You were fully aware Jabashiri could hold his own in a scuffle, even an unfair one, which is why it pained you so much to see him lose so drastically. You knew he would be incredibly sensitive and very likely too ashamed to face you, whom he knows thinks as highly of him as he does you.
Knocking softly on the sliding door, you announced your presence. “…Go away,” a gruff voice hesitantly ordered. You were right when you said he could face you. Too bad you weren’t one for taking orders. “Ryu, I'm coming in,” you stated, sliding the door open with little force. You were met with his muscly back, clad in nothing but a tanktop facing you, and for a moment you contemplated scolding him for trying to turn you away but decided against it. The last thing he needed right now was nagging, especially after such a devastating loss. 
Shutting the door behind you, you crossed the small threshold of his room and lowered yourself to sit directly behind him. You placed a hand on his back, rubbing it in gentle circles. “Look at me, Ryu.”
You received nothing but silence.It truly pained you to see your boyfriend like this. You decided what he needed wasn't food or motivation, but comfort. He was in an undeniably vulnerable position right now, and he was no doubt feeling insecure about his strength. Jabashiri never failed to cheer you up when you were feeling the way he is right now, and he has proved countless times that he would go to the ends of the earth for your happiness if he could. It was time to do the same for him.
It was evident that words were futile, and since actions are decibels louder, you opted for that. You whispered in his ear to scooch over, and he quietly obliged. Sliding under the covers, you wrapped your arms around his large frame and placed a tender peck of reassurance on his exposed shoulder. This was enough to coax him out of his stupor, as he turned around and swiftly buried his face into the crook of your neck, bawling with the force of an angry river. No words were exchanged that night, and you let him sob to his heart's content, both your legs entangled under the plush covers.
Jabashiri would never admit it, but he cried that night, and he cried hard. Frankly, it made him feel like a child, yet he was infinitely grateful he had you, who didn't judge him in the slightest. He genuinely wondered what he did to deserve such a lovely partner. He lifted his head from your soft embrace and placed a loving kiss on your forehead, hoping it was enough to convey his endless gratitude. It was, and you allowed him to pull you into a tight embrace. No words were exchanged, because no words were necessary, and you both drifted soundly asleep under the plush covers, holding each other forevermore. 
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Guys Jabashiri has my whole heart and this fandom has no fics so i have to take it into my own hands 😕
plsplspls request bucchigiri 😞🙏
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