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#this got REALLY out of hand as a post i am so sorry
Reminder; Don't Forget
(Scrap)
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❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader
➯a/n: i want park seonghwa to be mean to me while wearing a tank top, that is all ➯a/n: i'm going to start posting drafts that haven't been touched in over a month so they don't just collect dust, enjoy ya filthy animals
✃ "You need a reminder of who's good girl you are."
✫彡wordcount: 2.7k
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: YANDERE SMUT (hinted mafia/crime au)
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: THIS IS A DARK FICTION. EMPHASIS ON DARK FICTION. i do no condone pretty much anything seonghwa does in this fanfic. this is very dark, the darkest i've gone so if you are uncomfortable with that check out something else. we have here: dark/yandere/savior complex hwa, degrading, unsafe physical restraint, choking, destruction of personal property, shaming, dubcon, extremely possessive behavior, some ddlg themes, slapping, praise, yelling, captivity, crying, knifes thrown at reader as a punishment(none hit!!), threats of violence, manipulation, mind break, hair pulling, mention of edging, face humping, throat fucking, messy bj, not proof read
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
"Did you forget your place, hm? It certainly seems like it, acting like a slut when you're mine!" His grip on your neck tightens, a chuckle leaving his furled lips as you grab at his tank top desperately trying to force out apologies through the pressure he puts on your wind pipes. "What, you can't even say that you're sorry? Another's man's number in your phone and you can't tell me you're sorry?"
Oh he's evil, he loves to see you squirm. And squirm you do: pushing against his heavy weight on your hips and clawing at his arm as your lungs beg for air.
He lets go, arms crossing his chest as he leans back nonchalantly, every bit of his weight in your lap as you heave. "Hwa-seong...Hwa, I'm s-sorry! I thought, thought, it'd be okay hes just a f-friend-"
   "You thought," he laughs cruelly, "are you even capable of that? Dumb little girl," he slaps your jaw, lightly, but it still makes you face the wall with a look of defeat.
"I think for you, is that clear?" You nod, tear stained cheeks gleaming in the light.
"Hey, am I clear?" he shouts this time, making you jump.
    "Yes! Yes, Hwa, clear..."
   "There's my good girl—" He brushes back your hair, cooing as you lean away, "you're the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on, and you think men don't see that? You think they're blind? Or are you really just that naiive, pretty baby?" His cool finger tips trail down to the blooming bruise on your neck, pressing softly to make you whine. "Give me your phone."
   He's up and off your body in a second flat, letting you catch your breath as you slowly manage to pull yourself to your knees. He doesn't press you to hurry or yell, he doesn't do anything but sit back in the bean bag chair he gifted you for previously good behavior and watch you like a hawk. His legs spread and hands on his knees, resisting the urge to snatch you up. When you turn and see him on the other side of the room, you simply outstretch your arm with the old prepaid phone he provided you with a few weeks ago. "Bring it here," he commands lowly, eyes tracking your every move as you slowly move towards him on your knees- having no energy to stand.
He spreads his legs further, a silent instruction. You slot yourself between them and hold the phone to him tentative, shoulders relaxing as he takes it. "Thank you, beautiful. See, isn't it easy when you listen to me?" He unlocked the phone quickly, eyes flicking to you darkly when you go to take it back. "Got something to hide?" You shake your head, looking down as he takes your hands and places them on each of his thighs. "Don't move."
So you don't, simply breathing deeply to replenish your abused lungs while he combs through your phone with a fine toothed comb. You know you haven't done anything truly wrong, but it seems like he has different definitions to you.
"Good girl..." He whispers to himself as he sees the message of you shooting down the idea your friend tried to corrupt you with, to go out without him. "Stupid, but good..." He continues as he reads through every message with the phone number of the man. He monitors everything you do, it was only a matter of time before he got around to checking all of the numbers in your phone and their owners.
"Aw, you really are just naiive, huh? My poor little angel. Cant even tell when someone's trying to take you away from me-" He tuts his tongue, setting the phone down on the floor. When you go to pick it up, he kicks your hand away. "Sorry, Baby, you can't be trusted with big girl stuff yet. Gotta learn first." He smashes the device beneath his booted heel, a squeal passing through your lips at the loud metallic crunch.
"Hwa!" A pouty whine comes before you can stop it, tears welling up in your eyes all over again. When he cocks his eyebrow up, you cower between his legs, stuttering quietly. "Sorry, m'sorry..." He swipes the destroyed phone to the side with his boot before tapping your hip with it. You shuffle quickly, untying his shoes with a shaky breath.
"I know you get bored baby, but I can't have others corrupting your mind. I'll get you some new books, maybe even a TV for in here if you're extra good." You whisper a soft thank you, and a promise you will be as you set his shoes off to the side neatly.
"Look up at me, Doll. C'mon don't be angry," you look up at him as softly as you can, a groan of affection bubbling past his throat, "there's my pretty little thing." You rub your fingers on his jean-clad legs in an attempt to ground yourself as he looks down at you like a predator that's spotted it's next meal.
"Aren't you so happy you have me to take care of you? Who knows what others would do to that pretty face of yours— not to mention that pretty cunt."
A heat immediately finds it way to your face, and he laughs deeply. "Oh, please, don't be coy. You know as well as I do that if I didn't take you out of there that that little hole would be ruined in an hour. I saved you."
You hide your face in his lap, mind racing. It's true that he's more gently than other people you've had the dis-pleasure of encountering in his line of work. But that doesn't make him any less over bearing and obsessive. His possessiveness bordering on ownership. Sometimes you're truly thankful he scooped you up before anyone else could touch you- other times you curse him for it.
He rubs the back of your head gently, leaning up in the slouching chair, like he can sense your thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere, Baby. You're mine- until the day you die and even after that. Even God himself couldn't pry you away from me. You are mine. Do you understand that?" You nod into his lap, a quiet 'yes,hwa' muffled by his jeans. "Such a sweet thing," he whispers before gripping your hair and pulling you up, earning a gasp.
That glint in his eyes- "Hwa, wait, wait—" he did no such thing, standing up with his clothed crotch in your face, pulling your hands up to his belt.
"You need a reminder of who's good girl you are-"
"No-"
"No?!" He laughed in disbelief, nails digging into your scalp as he makes you look up at him, the stretch of your neck uncomfortable as he cranes it up. There's a sharp hunger in his eyes, "you're so cute -so, so, so, cute when you're defiant... but I'm not in the fucking mood. Get your ass up," he tugs you up by your hair, ignoring the sharp yelps that tremble past your lips.
     "Ple-ase don't take me downstairs! I'll be good, I'll be good!"
    "It's okay baby, we aren't going downstairs," he positions you back to the wall and backs up, pushing you back when you try to follow and apologize. "I'm too tired." The glimmer of hope is stomped out as he unlocked his side of the nightstand. "You can take your punishment here."
   "Hwa... I'm real sor-" A skinny throwing knife that thuds into the wall next to your head shuts you up quick, a squeal replacing your pleas.
   "Been looking after you so much, I'm rusty-" He throws another with a groan, hiding his smirk as you jump, "stay still baby, I'm out of practice." You can't help but duck as it thunks into the wall just above your head.
     "Stand up straight!" His booming voice shakes you to your core, and you stand as straight as you can manage with the knot forming in your gut. You grip the wall with your finger tips, looking down at your feet so you don't see the sharp objects coming. You've found that it's less fearful that way.
Knife after knife is thrown, each dull thump making you twitch as they're buried into the drywall in the outline of your body.
When they finally stall, his sock clad feet come into view, his curved knuckle lifting your chin. The flame in his eyes has faded to a simmer, an almost fond one. "Are you done being a brat? Or should I let my hand slip next time I need target practice?"
   "I'm done..." you speak with a gulp, body still frozen against the wall lest you move and graze against the blades.
He seems to sense your thoughts once again, cooing softly as he notices your tense shoulders. "C'mon, sweet girl," he carefully pulls you straight out from the wall and twirls you around.
He wraps his arms around under yours and grips your shoulders, holding you close to his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Your life in my hands... Such a delicate thing you are." You eyes trail over the outline of your body, traced with throwing daggers. "If you just behaved, I wouldn't have to scare you. It's the best way for you to learn, my love. That fear you feel when we go downstairs, when I have you pinned up- that's the fear you would feel every waking moment without me. Just be a good girl, and let me protect you..."
"...Okay, I'm sorry, Hwa... I don't know why I act out," You don't know if you're telling the truth anymore. It is even acting out? You sometimes think you have a right to.
Maybe— "Maybe you like it when I'm mean to you."
You don't know what you would have thought, but that wasn't it. You think he likes being mean to you. He always finds a reason to punish you: whether it be with bone chilling fear or being pushed to your sexual edge and then repeatedly denied.
    Some days, he's softer with the sexual aspect of his obsession with you.
He turns you back around and shoves you to his knees, right back into his clothed bulge where you started. "I want to claim you, I'm going to claim you. Every part. Take it off now before I decide to skull fuck you." Your breath hitches in your throat, lip trembling at his threat, knowing full well he will follow through.
Today is not one of those days, you realize.
You hands quickly find their way to his belt, unbuckling the golden buckle and letting it dangle, the button undone next and the zipper followed. He didn't bother to kick his jeans off, or even pull them down. Only his cock out, twitching to life infront of you inpatiently. "You belong to me, I'm gonna get that through your thick skull" -he flicks your head- "even if I have to use my cock."
He rubs against your cheek, sighing out in pleasure at the feeling of your hot embarrassed face. "Say my name," he whispers deeply, eyes swirling with an unreadable mix of emotions.
"Seonghwa," you pant out shyly, eyes closed as you feel him rutting against your face, his pre cum smearing on your cheek bone. His grip is continually becoming softer, loving as he lewdly humps your head. Your hands find purchase on his sock clad feet, helping you lift up your body into him. "Seonghwa," it comes out as a moan, and a thick groan comes from him in response.
He steps back just an inch, looking down at your tear stained face, his fresh pre-cum glimmering on the side of your face.
His full lips curve into a smile, his previously angry facade fading as quick as it came when he busted in the door earlier, while he lifts you to the bed and lets your head hang.
He's even beautiful when viewed upside down-
    "You make it hard to ever leave your side, pretty girl. I could spend the rest of my life buried in any of your gorgeous holes, I love you so much."
"I love you, Hwa. I-" Your breath catches in your throat as the words tear through your throat. "I do want you to claim me, I want to know I'm yours." One of your hands seems to sprout a mind of its own, wrapping around the base of his thick and smooth girth. "Let me take care of you, and you take care of me."
A groan dies on his lips, shuddering as you slowly stroke him, the words you speak shooting through his heart and down to his balls. "Let me be your good girl. Please, I know I can!"
The fear he instilled in you just moments ago festered into a need to please, to solidify your place by his side so he would never leave. He never would dream of it- leaving you. You are his heart and soul personified. You hold his entire being in your hands, and you have no idea.
"Yeah? Gonna be my good girl again? Make it up to me?" His heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth opening wide for him and tongue lolling out."Fuck, that's a good girl," he spreads his legs around your dangling head, slim fingers gathering yours to your chest and holding them ever so softly as he slips right down your throat.
The hot, velvety skin encasing him makes him moan loudly, squeezing your hands to ground himself and keep himself from fucking your skull like his life depends on it. But, oh, how he wants to—
"Good fucking girl, that's it, just like I taught you," you gulp around his overwhelming length, eyes closing as you focus on breathing through your nose, the smell of his body wash somehow soothing to your fried nervous system.
   He holds himself back as long as he can, thrusting in your throat slowly and basking in the warmth of it. But as your saliva builds, nowhere to go, and the wet and lewd squelch of your throat grows louder, he can no longer do that. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lets you squeeze tightly, a soft growl letting you know his arousal is at a peak before he loses all control-
   His hips draw back and slam into you, the head of his cock poking at the very depth of your throat and making you gag, and the noise just stirs him on, going again and again and again to hear that sweet sound of you choking around him. Sticky saliva tainted with the white of his pre-cum drips from the corners of your stretched mouth, dripping up your face. It seems like the onslaught will never end, but he has bigger plans for his building release.
     The moment your throat is free of his cock, you draw in a large gasp, all of the wetness in your mouth dripping like a waterfall, letting you heave as he watches with dark eyes. Not that you can see the lust driven look on his face, if you were to open your eyes you'd be blinded by spit and cum.
  He discards his pants and top as he lets you catch your breath, cooing all the while about how good you just did for him. He uses the softness of his tank top to wipe away most of the filth on your face, and you finally peek your eyes open as you feel him lift you.
   You swear there's hearts swirling in the darkness of his eyes as he scans your messy face, a permanent smirk plastered on his features. "Pretty girl, you're such a mess for me," you can only pant in response, leaning into the palm he places on your cheek as he lays you down right-side-up, letting your head collide with the soft pillows.
The moment he put a pillow under your back, you knew you were in for a long ride.
And by the end of it, you wouldn't forget who you belong to.
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mydearestdaryl · 1 day
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𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐚 (18+) ‧₊˚ ✧
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Summary: Daryl needed some love and you gladly gave it to him. Warnings: TWD violence, gore, blood, character deaths, explicit language, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v, simple aftercare). Not proofread. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! reader smut + fluff. Setting: Quarry. A/N: I read a post some time ago that said that Daryl in season 1 just needed some kisses to calm down and I couldn't agree more so I wrote this. It's also my first time trying to write smut, so I am so sorry if this sucks, and I was so hesitant to post it so please be nice lol. 😞
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“Ha-ha, funny girl,” T-Dog deadpanned, rolling his eyes and suppressing a genuine laugh. It was the third bad joke you told in a row, and he was starting to find them funny.
“I really am,” you replied breathlessly, finally able to catch your breath after cackling at your joke.
“Okay, Eddie Murphy,” T-Dog, added jokingly, making you giggle as he placed a bunch of firewood you'd been helping him split for the past 40 minutes. “Let's head back.”
“I just thought of another one!” You exclaimed as you walked next to him. His groan of annoyance made you laugh before you even told the joke. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”
“I. Don't. Know.”
“A fsh,” you replied after a dramatic pause, hardly able to contain your laugh as he gave you a side-eye, pressing his lips together to hold a smile back. “Please, I-” you started, but interrupted yourself as a commotion reached your ears from the camp. You recognized Daryl's voice.
Sharing a confused look with T, you both picked up the pace, coming into view with what seemed like a heated discussion between Daryl, Shane, and Rick, the man who joined the camp yesterday. You felt a little annoyed that they ignored T-Dog's request to let him tell Daryl, but oh well.
“Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself to Daryl.
“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked him, “y' got somethin' you wanna tell me?”
“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal,” Rick stated, apparently with confidence. “He's still there.”
You stayed in place, watching as T-Dog slowly took a few steps closer to the scene.
Daryl hummed as he turned around, pacing shortly before he spoke, “Le' me process this,” said he while turning to face Rick again, clearly growing irritated. “Ya' sayin' you handcuffed ma brother to a roof, and you left 'im there!” His veins popped as his voice got raspier as he yelled at the other man.
Rick gulped before admitting. “Yeah.”
Suddenly, Daryl tossed the squirrels he was carrying toward Rick, the latter swiftly dodging them before Shane jumped into action, tackling Daryl to the ground. Next, he pulled a knife from its holster, swinging it at the former cops, but being stopped in a matter of seconds.
In the blink of an eye, Shane put Daryl in a chokehold, while Rick snatched the weapon out of his hand. “Ya best let me go!” warned Daryl, struggling in Shane's grip as the cop brought him to the ground. You walked closer toward Carol as your eyes remained on the scene, but decided to walk to the other side as you noticed Ed was next to her.
“I think it's better if we don't,” Shane replied, almost mockingly.
“Chockehold's illegal,” Daryl added, face red from the struggle.
“'Kay, file a complaint,” If this situation was not so tense, you would've laughed. You did a little on the inside. Rick kneeled in front of the restrained man as Shane spoke again. “C'mon, man, can keep this up all day.”
“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. You think we can manage that?” Rick spoke, trying to find Daryl's eyes. “You think we can manage that?” the cop repeated when no answer was obtained.
Panting and growling, Daryl grunted in agreement, finally getting Shane to release him; more aggressively than he should, if they asked you. Sitting up quickly, Daryl pointed at Shane warningly. Rick continued: “What I did was not on a whim,” he explained. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”
“It's not Rick's fault,” T-Dog spoke up, his leg bouncing anxiously as he confessed. “I had the key. I dropped it.”
“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl retorted. His voice was calmer, but you recognized in his stormy eyes a hint of grief. Nobody else cared about his brother when his brother was everything he had. You couldn't imagine how terrible this situation was for him.
“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”
Dropping his head, Daryl slowly got up, gathering his composure again. Anger returned to his expression as he walked past T-dog, “'f it's s'posed ta make me feel better, it don't,” glaring daggers at the 'culprit.'
“Maybe this will,” T went on to say, “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him... with the padlock”
“It's gotta count for something,” Rick piped in.
Drying a tear as soon as it came, Daryl took a deep breath. “Hell with all y'all!” he screamed. “Jus' tell me where he is, so's I can go get 'im.”
“He'll show you,” Lori stated, staring into her husband's eyes. “Ain't that right?” Rick's eyes left his wife's after a few seconds, finding T-Dog's shortly before nodding.
“I'm going back,” he declared, almost solemnly, hands on his hips as his eyes met Daryl's again. The younger Dixon clenched his jaw before walking past everyone to get his crossbow and stomping to his tent.
You didn't notice you went behind him until Dale stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing, honey?” the older man questioned. He'd always been kind and sweet to you, so you gently released yourself from his grip.
“He's upset,” you explained, and he seemed to understand as he nodded reluctantly, but understandingly. On your way, you grabbed your half-full water bottle, and slowly approached the edge of the camp, where the tent of the Dixon's was.
You found Daryl sitting on the chair outside his tent, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched with anger as if grasping the last shreds of control. His head bowed low and his eyes were shut tight. You caught the way his body shook softly with quiet sobs. You stilled, not daring to interrupt this stolen vulnerable moment.
After another minute, he abruptly stood up, drying his tears before cursing loudly while kicking the chair he was sitting in. You were suddenly hesitant to approach him and decided to turn around and leave, but before you took one step, his voice reached your ears.
“Whaddaya doin' here?”
You took a deep breath before turning back around and walking up to him, your water bottle hanging from your hand. “I- uhm, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Merle, and-”
“Ya don' even like 'im,” he snapped defensively.
“No, I don't,” you confirmed, “but I like you, and he's your brother. Even if my brother would annoy the shit out of me before, I loved him, and... I'm sorry you're going through this, Daryl,” you took a few steps closer, eyes on the ground as you spoke before meeting his.
His gaze remained on yours, before studying your face, finding nothing but the truth.
He frowned deeper, angrily huffing out a breath before turning away from you to rant. “He's jus' so fuckin' stupid. Nobody can fuckin' stand him an' he can't keep 'is fuckin' mouth shut!” he yelled, pacing from left to right, hands dancing through the air practically independently, punctuating his words.
“Why he gotta be such a fuckin' pain in the ass? Not even when we gotta surv-” mid-sentence, your hands found his cheeks, and with utter sweetness your lips impulsively found his, silencing his words.
He stilled, hands slowly dropping to his sides, body completely tense.
You quickly pulled away, opening your eyes to find his eyes slightly wide and totally confused. Your hands left his face and you took a step back. Your eyes awkwardly looking anywhere but at him. “Fuck, Daryl, I'm so sorry,” you started, a knot of anxiety growing in your chest. “I don't know why I did that... well, I know why, 'cause I like you, but I shouldn't have, I'm- I'm so sorry, really.”
Your rambling was interrupted by his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to connect his lips with yours. This time he was more relaxed, and the kiss was slower. His hands slid down to gently grab your hips, pressing his body to yours.
Your arms snaked around his neck, dropping your water bottle, and allowing your lips to part when his tongue requested entrance. Exploring the taste of each other, time stilled for a moment, but you loved it. The kiss grew almost desperate and the grip on your hips got stronger.
Unhappy to pull away, but needing to do so to breathe, you found yourself gasping as his lips left yours. You smiled brightly, cheeks rosy, and he smirked while dipping his head. “Also, I brought you water,” you added, grabbing the bottle from the ground, and dusting off the little dirt that stuck to its side before handing it to him.
“Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from your hands before opening it, downing the liquid, and emptying the bottle.
“You're gonna find him,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled and nodded once again, muttering a thank you. You sounded pretty confident as if you knew, which gave him the confidence when he left on the search for his brother later that day.
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Everybody screamed as they tried to avoid or fight the walkers emerging from the thick forest. The evening that started so peacefully suddenly turned into the perfect scene of a terrifying horror movie.
Things moved fast and slow at the same time. It was a blur. Tunnel vision, solely focused on surviving and protecting your group, moving on automatic pilot as you dug your machete countless times into the head of those flesh-hungry monsters.
You didn't even notice when it ended, barely feeling a pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders. His voice sounded distant asking if you were okay over and over. But you couldn't answer, you weren't sure if you were okay, the adrenaline didn't let you feel your body.
His loud voice calling your name finally snapped you out of your trance. “What?” You asked, brows knitting in confusion.
“Were ya bitten? Are ya alright?” Daryl questioned, nealy manhandling you as he searched and scanned for bites or scratches on your neck, lifting the sleeves of your flannel to make sure the skin of your arms was intanct.
“I didn't get bit or anything,” you shook your head, still a bit gone.
Cupping your face to study your eyes, he quickly pulled you into his arms, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt finally safe now. You wrapped your arms around his torso, closing your eyes and hiding your face in his neck.
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After everyone agreed to get some rest and leave the cleaning for the morning, Daryl offered to stay in your tent with you that night.
He helped you into your pajamas, and you cuddled for a bit as he told you what happened in Atlanta. Then you simply lay in silence. You played with his fingers and he watched you adoringly, rubbing soothing circles on your back with his free hand.
You looked up to find his eyes on yours. Gently he cupped your chin, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hand went up to cup half of his face, returning the kiss with equal passion. It was almost needy but slow. It was like he needed the confirmation that you were both here and okay.
Tongues met in a slow dance, and his hands reached down to cup your ass, easily moving you to lay on top of him. You couldn't help but moan as your body completely pressed against his, but it also made you want to feel more.
His hands slid under your shirt, and you broke the kiss in need of oxygen, immediately latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and kissing. He hummed in satisfaction, which was all the confirmation you needed to keep going, but he stopped after a few moments, pulling his hands out of your shirt, and cupping your face again for you to look at him.
“You sure 'bout this?” he asked, his face stern as he waited for your answer.
You nodded hastily, licking your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”
“'M sure,” he said without hesitation, pulling you onto his lap so you could straddle him. “Need ta feel ya,” he whispered in a husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
His hands caressed the dip of your waist up and down under your shirt as you made out. You buckled your hips up unintentionally but did it again on purpose when you heard him moan into your mouth.
You were straight-up grinding into his hips before he pulled away from your mouth, “not yet, doll,” he whispered as he took your shirt off. His hands went to your breasts like magnets, kneading and massaging the curves shamelessly as he peppered your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to pop a tit inside his mouth.
Your clothed cunt clenched on air, as you closed your eyes and moaned, enjoying the attention, and you could feel his excitement tenting in his pants as well.
He slowly shifted the position, you back now on the mattress. After he decided both tits had been given enough attention, albeit still reluctant, his mouth trailed lower and lower, hands smoothly pulling your shorts and panties at the same time as his tongue and mouth kissed and licked the skin of your stomach.
His eyes met yours as he kissed your thighs, silently asking for permission to go further. “Please,” you whispered, surprising yourself by how needy you sounded, but then again, you did feel like you needed him right now.
He wasted no time, and in less than a second his mouth was latched to your clit. Tongue swirling on it and sucking, making you gasp. He used his whole face, pushing himself deeper and moving side to side as his tongue flicked over your sensitive pearl quickly. Hungrily. You arched your back involuntarily, fingers finding his hair to pull while simultaneously pulling him closer.
With a hand on your hip, he sucked a few more times before he licked a strip down to your entrance where his tongue began to fuck you. His thumb replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing at the same speed as his tongue went in and out of you. You moaned and whimpered and cursed, trying to keep quiet, being apparently unsuccessful.
“Quiet, sunshine,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to make you suck on two fingers to silence you, and you happily obliged. Your legs wrapped around his head as he continued his ministrations, the familiar knot forming in your stomach.
“Fuck, Daryl, I- wait,” your back arched further, legs pulling him closer, contradicting your plead as he moved faster and faster, changing again to suck on your clit and fuck you with his fingers. He hummed and the vibrations brought you closer. “So close.”
Your pitch was higher and higher, the knot tighter and tighter. All it took was a final, flick and suck of his tongue, feeling him moan against your cunt before pushing you over the edge into a shattering climax. The free hand covered your mouth as the other slowed down, prolonging your pleasure until your body relaxed and you came down from your high.
“Fuck,” you looked at him with hazy eyes.
“Fuck,” he said as a confirmation, looking down to see a damp spot on his sweatpants.
“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. He gladly kissed you back as you slid your hands under his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.
“I-” he started, looking away from your eyes and knawing on his bottom lip. “I have- I....”
“You don't have to take it off, it's okay.”
“No, I wan' ta, jus'” he sighed, slowly taking the shirt off. He was thankful his back was away from you. At least you wouldn't have to see those yet. “My dad... was a drunk,” he reached to touch, kind of trying to hide, one of the scars on his shoulders, but you gently pushed his hand away, tracing the scar with your fingertips before looking up at him. You smiled and kissed him shortly, before kissing the scars on his shoulders.
“You're so strong,” you whispered.
His heart was beating fast but in a good way. His lips found yours again as he settled himself between your legs. Your now-familiar mouths found a rhythm as he started to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.
His erection hit your thighs making you pull away. You bit your bottom lip at the sight; he was thick, and the size was a bit on the bigger side. “All for you, baby,” he whispered, as he pumped himself a couple of times.
He rubbed the tip on your clit and entrance, spreading your and his juices all over your cunt again. “Ya ready?” he asked, slapping your cunt with his dick gently. You nodded. “Nah, need ya to speak up.”
“Please, Dar, I'm ready. I need you.”
He hummed in satisfaction, leaning to prop himself up with his forearms around your head, kissing your cheek, before slowly pushing into you. You moaned and he groaned. You were wet and ready enough, so the stretch felt like pure bliss for both of you.
He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, starting to move when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Feel so good, doll.”
He started slow, savoring the moment but also nervous to hurt you. But soon, he picked up a rhythm and started moving faster. Your boobs bounced beneath him as he kissed and worshipped your neck and breasts. You felt so deliciously full as he thrust up into your tight, dripping heat, moaning and whimpering underneath him.
He was in heaven, eyes inevitably closed as he made love to you, but he wanted to keep them open to look at you. To him, you looked like a work of art just like that.
“Harder,” you breathed, and he obliged. Your skin met over and over and the sounds filled your tent. He grunted, reaching down to rub on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. “Oh, right there,” your voice was getting higher, letting him know you were close. “Don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.”
“I won', baby. I gotcha,” he moaned. His thrusts became more and more urgent, each one hitting that sweet spot that made your body arch and your toes curl. If your hands weren't inside his gasp you'd be grasping the sheet beneath you. With one last flick of your clit, you shattered.
His mouth claimed yours to silence your cries of pleasure. Pure ecstasy filled your body, and prolonging your high, Daryl continued moving inside you, until he, too, reached his peak, quickly pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.
Spent and breathless, he collapsed next to you, who was in the same state as him. Your body tingled with the remnants of your passion, and you couldn't help the smile on your face as he kissed your face lazily.
Your eyelids were too heavy to notice when he pulled a little rag from somewhere and cleaned you up, then you felt him put your clothes on again, and his too. All too relaxed, you nestled into his embrace as he pulled you into his arms, both falling asleep in a matter of seconds.
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astars-things · 3 days
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Protective Lando
Y/n Hughes x Lando Norris AU
My head feels like it's about to split open, and my limbs ache as if I've been put through a meat grinder. But deadlines don't wait for sickness, so here I am, propped up in bed with my laptop, trying to muster the energy to craft a captivating post.
Just as I'm about to hit send, my phone buzzes with an incoming Facetime call. It's my older brother, Quinn, I can't help but smile weakly as his face fills the screen.
"Hey, sis," he greets me, concern evident in his eyes even through the pixelated video feed.
"Hey, Quinn," I croak, my voice betraying how terrible I feel. "Sorry, I look like death warmed over."
He chuckles softly. "You don't look half as bad as you sound. What's going on? You're usually not this out of it."
I sigh, leaning back against the pillows. "I think I caught some bug or something. Been feeling awful all day."
Quinn's expression softens further. "You should be in bed, resting. You're no good to anyone if you're sick."
"I know, I know," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "But there's so much to do, and I can't afford to slack off, especially not now with the big race coming up."
Before Quinn can respond, the door to my bedroom bursts open, and in strides my boyfriend, Lando Norris, his baby-faced features twisted into a frown of worry.
"What are you doing, Y/N?" he demands, crossing the room in quick strides. "You should be resting, not working yourself to the bone."
I shoot him an exasperated look. "I'm fine, Lando, really. Just a little under the weather, that's all."
His gaze softens as he reaches out to brush a lock of hair away from my forehead. "You're burning up," he murmurs, concern evident in his voice.
I swat his hand away weakly. "I'm fine," I repeat stubbornly, ignoring the way the room spins around me.
Quinn watches our exchange with amusement, his lips quirking into a knowing smile. "Looks like you've got your hands full, mate," he teases Lando.
Lando shoots him a grateful look before turning back to me, his expression serious. "Please, Y/N, for me. Just lie down and rest. I'll take care of everything, I promise."
I open my mouth to protest, but the fatigue crashes over me like a tidal wave, leaving me feeling drained and bone-weary. With a defeated sigh, I nod, allowing Lando to coax me back into bed, where he tucks the blankets around me with gentle hands.
"Thank you," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "I'll take care of everything, I promise."
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doomsday-dj · 2 days
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Yo. Bestie. Do you have any Rizzles author recommendations for me??
You have cruelly seduced me into this teeny-tiny-weeny fandom and now I have galloped my way through (almost) all of your brilliant body of work I am cast adrift and quickly finding out that "sort by kudos" simply does not bring up the goods here...
Help a gay out?
Oh fuck yeah, bestie. Yes. Do I ever!! I am about to WEAR OUT the link function. But before the recommendations: aw shucks and thank you and all that. Your comments this week have been a highlight. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this but hopefully this post makes up for it! I've been dabbling in some other fandoms lately, ones with a LOT of fics, and there's a lot of great writers out there, but I have to say that especially relative to how many fics there are, there's an outrageous amount of good writers who have written Rizzles.
Okay! So disclaimer that I’ve had a really ungodly amount of coffee today so if this is a little on the “un” side of hinged then I apologize. I am definitely gonna be REAL effusive. I was silly and shy about leaving comments and kudos when I first got on AO3 and now I make up for those crimes by being unabashedly keen.
I have gone and sorted by kudos (and, sidenote, discovered that I'm in the top 30????) and before I get to the under-appreciated bangers, I will say that plenty of my faves feature in the first two pages of sort by kudos (though their most kudosed work is almost never my fave one). Here I’m thinking of coolbyrne, @julieverne, DanteBeatrice77. All of these authors are awesome.
Also, amongst the highly kudosed works, Attachment by @performativezippers is a classic for in the fandom for good reason (and their Bachelor AU is a romp) and law of the lever by sharkfights is one of my favourites all time.
As for the other stuff, what do you WANT out of your fic, bestie?
You want the feelings? You want the beautifully written feelings? @ladyriot has got feelings FOR DAYS. If you want some one shots that will take you apart and put you back together, you’ve come to the right place. Good feelings, angsty feelings, all the feelings you need. My favourite is Let Our Hands Tell the Story but I recommend all of them. Mostly it's one shots but the one complete multi-chapter fic, Transference, is CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. Less than 200 kudos?! Fuck all the way off. I don’t know if it’s because it’s an AU or if it’s because of the doctor/patient element but unless that’s a trigger, I promise you it it’s handled very artfully and also it’s fucking fiction and no patient’s rights were violated in the making of this fic. Oh and put your ink on my skin 'til it comes off on me is both devastating and stupid hot.
Haven’t had enough feelings?? Take your insufficiently battered heart over to @sideadde’s work. I especially like Who Needs Two Kidneys When Another Heart Can Be Had? and Immersion Therapy.
You want a big meaty casefic you can sink your teeth into?? Domini_porter’s CMYK is so goddamn good. The smutty chapters in this one are just...chef's kiss. Among my favourites all time. I am also entirely obsessed with their Victorian AU, which deserves more attention. Also if you want some crack-your-chest-open-and-pull-out-your-guts angst go alllll the way back to their first fics on AO3.
OH. @kurtsvonneslut too. I think and you cooled my mind that burned with longing is probably my favourite post-finale type fic, bit of an AU with some major canon changes. They also have an excellent picking-up-from-the-Jane-and-Maura-season-2/3-break-up casefic, A Crime of Passion, and they wrote a devastating exploration of PTSD that just...oooof.
God, I could really just keep going and going. And this is just on AO3!!! I feel like I could do a whole part two of this that's just flagging all the best stuff that's back on ff.net. I might have to because this is already really long. But I'm stopping for now. Thanks for the BEST ASK.
*dramatic stage whisper* psssst do you want smut? I feel like I could also do a whole post on smut alone. Maybe later.
Note: I’ve tagged authors if their tumblr name is the same as their ao3 name, because I assume they’re okay with being found. If any of you would like to be untagged from the post just DM me and I’ll do that lickety split.
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These Strings That Bind Us
first chapter; previous chapter
So this is the first chapter of this fic that I’ve posted since a few of my irl friends have started following me and now they get to see the crazed fanfiction maniac I am and I don’t know if they’re ready.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
chapter 3:
Nico scanned the room he was left in. He knew logically that he was safe. That he was allowed to be… gay. And that the people that just overheard his conversation with Percy likely didn’t hate him for it.
They probably do hate you though. Even you can’t like yourself.
He just… didn’t like that knowledge to be floating around. 
It was then, after observing all the sleeping and uninterested patients that he saw the face of a particular blonde peering through a corner. 
“Hey. Sunshine. I see you.” Nico said trying to mask his worry. 
How long had he been there?
Will exhaled a laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… stalk…? I was going to check up on you but you were talking with Percy and I did to want to interrupt.”
“How much did you overhear?” Nico asked, deciding to cut to the point. 
Will turned pinker. “Nothing! I swear I wasn’t trying to listen into your conversation. I was just watching,” he said getting redder. “I mean-! I wasn’t like ‘watching’ watching. But I was also not listening. I was just waiting for an opening is all. So I could check up on you. Because that’s what I’m here to do right now. Check up on you that is.”
Will snapped his mouth shut, trying to stop the word-vomit from getting worse. He had a flight-or-flight look in his eyes, as if how Nico responded would be the deciding factor in how this interaction went. He wished Will hadn’t stopped. He couldn’t pin down the exact reason why he liked hearing that incoherent mess of speech, but he did. It took a bit longer for him to realize that while he was brain was occupied by the rambling of the boy across from him, it was too full to waste energy on worrying. 
Nico tried -really tried- to think of something comforting or cringe-reducing to say but he could help it when a laugh slipped out. 
And another. And one more. And five seconds later he was miserably failing to stifle his giggles with his left hand. 
“Wha-“ Will started. “What is it? Are you ok?Did one of my siblings but you on laughing gas or something? It was Kayla wasn’t it?!”
This made Nico laugh even harder. “Oh gods no. You’re just really weird. In a good way. You kept on saying more and it made it get worse and worse.” He laughed again. “Thank you for that. Holy hades I needed a good laugh.”
Will didn’t even flinch when Nico described his little speech as pathetic. If anything, it seemed to make him more confident. Composed. “Well I’m glad you feel joy at my expense,” he said rolling his eyes. “And you have a pretty laugh too. I like hearing it.” He smiled at Nico, his gaze moving to the glow between them. 
Oh right. 
Stop getting comfortable. Especially with him. 
Nico shifted in his seat, moving so his arms are crossed with his left ring-finger covered by his arm. He failed to avert his gaze from Will’s disappointed eyes. 
See? Even if it weren’t wrong, you could never be with him. You fail everybody, and Will is no different. 
A few beats of silence. 
“So uh… checkup?” Nico suggested. 
“Yes! Right. Let me just…” he trailed off. Something about clipboards and procedures that Nico did not have to energy nor interest to pay attention to. 
Will got the information he needed. Apparently a lot of Nico’s story was already in the documents.
“Like I said: I know your history,” Will stated with faux-intimidation. Nico rolled his eyes. 
When they got to the physical checkup Nico started getting jittery. He felt awkward saying something to Will about it, but he really didn’t like being touched so much. Especially because Will’s hands were so… methodical. It was bringing him back. 
To the times of your torment? Good. Revel in it. In the feeling of pain. Relive it all. Maybe if you look tortured enough somebody will even pity you. Why do you think you want that so badly? You know how hard it is to be yourself. Trying to share that burden with somebody else is plain selfish. 
Will noticed. Probably. He didn’t point it out, but he tried to lighten the mood, albeit with terrible references to things Nico did not have the current cultural knowledge to understand. 
Something about Nico being “Mr. Perfectly Fine” when asked about he was feeling. Or responding to Nico’s remarks about his werewolf scratches with saying, “oh! ‘Tis but a flesh wound I see!” (He seemed really proud of himself with that one). And he kept calling Nico a “padawan”?  What even was that?
Yet, despite the utter confusion that had overtaken Nico, it was a good distraction. Will had or hadn’t brought a laugh out of him a couple of times. Nico was or was not starting to feel a lot more comfortable, especially with Will around. 
And the string they shared absolutely was not glowing more warmly with each passing moment they spent together.  Of course not. Never. 
~~~
After that checkup, Nico offered to help around the infirmary. He did this, of course, hoping that his complete lack of any medical knowledge and “aura of death” would be enough for Will to refuse the offer.
He did not. 
Figures. 
What Will did do however, was introduce anyone and everyone imaginable to Nico. Whether that be random patients, his siblings, his Roman siblings that he (being the social-magnet-golden-retriever that he was) had gotten close with after the war, or some poor soul that happened to be within the vicinity of the two of them. It was weird. Nico didn’t know how to feel. Nobody had treated him like a person they could show others to. He was usually hidden away. Chose to keep himself hidden away. 
Nico was starting to like being seen though. It helped that Will was there too. Unlocking the prison of isolation Nico had made for himself and dragging him into interactions when they were in the middle of filing paperwork. When he introduced Nico to a new person, he almost sounded proud. Like knowing Nico was something they could envy about Will. 
“Oh hey [person] have you met my friend Nico?” Will would say. “Yeah he’s the coolest kid in camp! Go on Nico say hi,” pride radiating from his voice. “We met a few days ago when he almost stabbed me haha. He really saved my skin out there. Even if he was seconds away from passing out while doing it.”
Nico would never admit it, but he kind of liked the attention Will was giving him. It was as if Will’s words of affirmation were able to fight off the self-doubt demons would otherwise occupy much of Nico’s thoughts. 
Not only that, but he also liked meeting people. 
Yes. Him. Nico di Angelo. The son of Hades. Well known social recluse. Enjoying the communion of others. 
Was that new? He thought he was an introvert to the core. The idea of people was supposed to make him want to hide under a rock a perish. Was it just that he was so much of a social outcast that he fooled himself into thinking that?
Dear gods, he was not going to spend the time going down that rabbit hole any further. 
Nico felt a tug on his string finger. Will had started doing that in order to touch Nico without touching him. Nico hadn’t decided yet how he felt about it. Well, his heart obviously had, but he’s choosing to ignore that stubborn organ in all matters pertaining to Will. He looked up, slowly bringing himself back to reality. 
Back to the storage/office room they were (as Will had put it) “chillin’” in. Back to the smell of antiseptic spray and old files. Back to the blonde idiot staring into his soul, seemingly trying to solve a puzzle. 
“…what?” Nico broke the silence. 
Will stared for a beat longer. “You were staring off into space for a while. Are you ok?”
He thought for a moment too long. 
“Yes,” was the response Nico decided on. 
Will stared even deeper with a curious look. “…ok… sure. What were you thinking about then?”
Nico was just about to bark out a basic response of “oh nothing”, or something like that, but he stopped himself. He didn’t need to hold himself back. Not when Will was looking at him in that eager and open way that he does. 
“I was thinking about how much in my life has changed,” since you entered into it, “in the past few days.”
Maybe he didn’t say the whole truth, but Will was enough to make him no outright lie. 
“Really?” Will backed off some, face turning from questioning frown to genuine smile. “How so?”
Oh. So this was gonna be some cheesy heart-to-heart, was it? Nico was not opposed to that idea. He looked back up at Will’s bright expectant eyes. 
He actually rather liked the idea.
He talked to Will. He was trying to keep it short (Will was always busy) but the more he talked, the more they kept talking. And talking. And talking. Somehow they moved from life the last few days to life in the past few years. Family, in all possible definitions of the word. Friends, in all their shades, hues, and complexities. Enemies, in all their surprising humanity. 
Will’s voice changed depending on what he was saying. He slurred together his words when they were talking about old interests. He would pause or stutter when they transitioned to deep topics, and slowed down when they got comfortable there. His voice got all jittery and slightly more high pitched when he was excited about something. 
And the way he listened… the way it felt like he hung onto every word Nico said like it was written in scripture…
Nico kept wondering when Will would leave. He would find some excuse about having to check up on a patient, or outright say he didn’t want to stay there. 
Wouldn’t want to stay with you. Why would anyone want to spend time with you. You’re boring him and he will leave you—
But Will hasn’t left. How long has they been there? They sat down on a nearby desk a while ago. Will was still with him. 
Will, talking about his mom and how much he misses her. Will, listening to Nico’s stories of his childhood in Italy. Will, leaning into the beats of silence that would occasionally fall between them with a rare comfort. Will, inching closer to Nico with each passing second. Will, making their string glow impossibly brighter with the effect he had on Nico. Will, coiling the string around his fingers until there was no space between his and Nico’s hands. Will, cutting himself off mid-sentence just to graze Nico’s hand. 
Will. Will. Will. 
How long had it been? It was dark outside. Not that Nico cared. In the moment all that Nico cared about was right by his side, chatting animatedly, listening with care, leaning against Nico as he got more tired. Nico couldn’t imagine falling asleep now. His heart was beating so fast one would think he was about to be killed by some monster. 
For some reason this moment felt more important than any of those past life-or-death experiences. He was safe. Nobody was in danger. But all those times he was fighting to live. Now he’s living to be alive. 
With Will. 
He looked over at the boy now resting on his shoulder and smiles. His mouth slightly open and he’s just barely snoring. It’s adorable. Nico’s heart warms with affection. 
Affection. He liked using that word in this moment. He smiled. 
He liked using that word for Will. 
~~~
The Apollo Cabin did not cut him any slack when he brought a sleeping Will back in a bridal carry late into the night.
~~~
“Hey! It’s Mr. Perfectly Fine!” Will exclaimed to his siblings when Nico had entered the infirmary office. 
Nico had caught a glimpse of Will hunched over his desk, with an exhausted expression written on his face just as Nico had walked in. It seemed like he was talking to his siblings, Kayla and Austin, about how he can “totally handle all this work” and that he’s “not burnt out”. They however, were willing to drop that conversation to snicker at Nico regarding whatever it was Will had just said. 
“Seriously? You have no other jokes,” Nico retorted. “What is that referencing? I’m convinced you’re making it up at this point.”
“Oh please, at this point it’s your fault for not being a part of the Taylor Nation,” Kayla chimed in. 
“I’ve been here for two days!”
Kayla crossed her arms. “That’s two whole days of Taylor Swift that you could have been listening to.”
Nico rolled his eyes and looked to Austin, the one person left who hadn’t taken a side against him.
“What?” He responded. “They’re right. All the effort you’ve made to avoid Taylor Swift is really some Kanye behavior.”
Nico hated his past self. Why did he decide to start hanging out with the Apollo Cabin? They were one mess of snarky comebacks joined together by their obsession over various musicians. 
“I’ve been helping out! Would you really rather have me be wasting oxygen while listening to Swift?” Nico asked the cohesive mass. 
“Yes!” They all shouted in (a partially harmonized) unison. 
Nico groaned and sat on the chair he had placed next to Will’s desk the last time he was in this office. He’s only been here for three days and yet he has a spot for him. Next to Will. 
The siblings talked about some infirmary stuff. Work schedules, post-war stuff, some new Roman ailments they learned about. Nico tuned it out, picking at his hangnails. 
Some time later, the door Nico had just come through slammed open with an uninterested Drew Tanaka on the other end. 
“Hey shitheads! I need drugs!” She said. 
Nico raised an eyebrow at her and turned to look at Will, hoping he would translate. 
Without looking up from his desk, Will rolled his eyes and said, “Sweet baby Zeus, can’t you just say ibuprofen like a normal person?”
He pushed back on his chair to get up, but Kayla pushed him right back. 
“Nuh-uh. I’ve got this. You stay here and take a break with your,” she looked at Nico, “dude-best-friend.” She winked at him.  
She headed out the door, with Drew on her heels. 
The three left in the room looked at each other. A silent conversation played out between Will and Austin that lasted for much longer than a silent conversation has any right to last. Nico was glad to not be involved in it, whatever it was. 
Austin sighed. “I guess I’ll go with them to make sure they don’t blow anything up.” 
“Again,” Will added. 
With a quick finger-gun-snap to his brother, Austin left. 
The door creaked it as it closed. 
“Wait,” Nico put his elbows on the desk. “How many explosions have they caused?” He thought for a second. “How do they even cause explosions to happen?”
He waits for a second more. Will is writing something down. Nico probably shouldn’t have interrupted by talking. He needed to be more conscious about his actions. Especially now that he is friends with Will. What was it Kayla said? “Dude-best-friend”? Yeah. He needed to be a better dude-best-friend. Not that they were “best friends”. It was probably just some slang or something. If they were even considered to be best-
Thunk. 
Will face-planted onto his desk. 
“Shit.” How long had he been working? “Are you ok?” 
Will held up a hand to give a thumbs-up before dropping it back down to his desk. Will started snoring. 
Nico knew there was a right way to react to this. Will probably had the answer for him. But Nico couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but stare. Stare and think. Like he was moving in slow motion but the rest of the world wasn’t kind enough to take note.
Was this normal for Will? Did he just collapse at his desk from time to time? No. He was always preaching his gospel of “taking care of yourself” and whatnot. This had to be a one-off thing. 
He’s probably fine, right? Sure, he’s probably a little bit burnt out, but it’s not life and death or anything. 
Yeah good idea. Bury your problems. Maybe one day you’ll share a grave with them.
How could he even think like that? “Not life and death,” so many things are not life and death but they are still worth worrying about. 
Nico is a terrible friend. He needs to be worrying more about Will. Will needs help. 
And how the hell do you expect to help him? Name one time you weren’t a burden to somebody. Every time you try to do something it fails. Just stop. 
Gods. He was pathetic. His friend was passed out in front of him, and he was standing there, frozen. He should do something. He needed to do something. He just. He- he had to-
You always let people down. You’re too pitiful to help anyone. 
No! He could help! 
Will laid there fully unaware of the warfare happening in Nico’s mind. Someone looking in would likely find his state of rest to look peaceful. He was just a tired kid doctor in a tiny room filled with papers and files. 
Outside that room was a couple of teenagers bickering about ibuprofen and explosives. It was a conversation severely lacking in context for the onlookers not in said conversation. 
Even further beyond there were children doing dangerous and mundane activities. Somewhere a kid first encountered a monster. A man proposed to his girlfriend to the joy of an entire restaurant. A man proposed to his boyfriend to the shock, disgust, and joy of a small park. A child wrote a letter that never got read to her father fighting in a war. A species that was never discovered went extinct. A group of teenagers got high on the roof of a parking lot. A tired mother decided to quit smoking for the third time that year. A grandparent met their first grandson. 
And back in that small room with too much paper and a sleeping boy, a damaged kid sees nothing but the worst of it. 
Nico’s mind is a tunnel with no light at the end; flashing horrors crowding it out and letting no logic or hope in. 
This was life-or-death. If Nico didn’t do something, he would be responsible for whatever happened to Will. 
Will would know what to do. If Nico just knew Will better. If he just payed a bit more attention while Will worked. He must have been a terrible friend, having not cared enough to know how to handle this. 
Finally, something you’re right about. 
Gods! How could he even be drowning in this self pity now? Will needed help. He needed… caffeine? An intervention? He needed something and Nico needed to help. He could help. He needed to help. He needed-
His hand met a warmth. He looked down to see his and Will’s hands touching. Nico didn’t know when he started reaching for his hand. He let it sit there for a few beats of tense, heavy, warm silence. 
His fingers moved without his consent to gently coil their string. 
People say that, for soulmates, strings are able to pass emotions. The way one touches their string and the feeling they have while holding it are felt by the person on the other side. 
Nico could… send some comfort? The thoughts would have made him laugh in any other circumstance. Him. Being the bringer of comfort. But in this instance, he could. There wasn’t anything else he coulddo. 
No you cannot. You will lead yourself to heartbreak. 
Will groaned. Nico flinched. 
His hand twitched to reach out. To let Will know that “I’m here”. That “you can talk to me”. 
You can’t do that. 
He couldn’t do that though. 
You don’t know how to comfort people. 
He didn’t even know how to comfort people. 
Just look in front of you, you let this happen under your watch. 
He’d let this happen. 
And here you are thinking to yourself instead of doing anything. 
Gods! He just needed to focus. Think of some solution.
Just think! Just think! Just think! Just-
A door opened and Nico’s throat dropped, feeling like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. Which was stupid. He knew that. 
He uselessly held his hands up and backed up, turning to the door. His body was frozen as thoughts of the thousands of ways the next few seconds could go all competed for his attention. He was a deer in the headlights, weakly looking past the person who was on the other end of the door. They looked at the scene in the room and raised an eyebrow.
“Nico? What happened?” Austin asked. 
Austin! Thank the gods! He can-
“Help.” Nico creaked. “I don’t know what happened. Will, he…” Nico cut himself off. His throat was so choked up it was barely letting him say anything. It hurt. He didn’t realize he was this close to tears. 
Fucking baby. 
Austin rushed to his brother’s side and after a few moments sighed a breath of relief. “He’s fine. Just exhausted.” He took a few moments to give Nico a worried look. “Are you fine?”
Nico couldn’t respond. His body was still in fight-or-flight mode. He could only hear the pounding of his heartbeat, so strong it was like it was coming directly from his ears. There was to much happening. He just needed to calm down. He also had to respond. He had to look normal. He had to help with- 
“Everything is fine.” The mantra he repeated in his mind. “He’s just exhausted. He’s ok. I’m ok.” 
No you’re not. No he’s not. 
Austin just confirmed that there was nothing to worry about.
You just don’t care enough about Will to keep worrying for him. 
“I’m ok,” he finally responded, voice even more shaky. 
Austin made a doubtful look and walked over to a shelf, pulling out some ball. He handed it to Nico, placing it in a hand he had not realized was shaking until then. He squeezed it and it was cushiony, but firm. 
“Breathe with me,” Austin said simply. 
And they breathed together. Slowly in.  Holding it. Slowly out. Holding it. 
After a minute or so he asked “would you mind if I brought Kayla here too?”
Shrugging, Nico lied. “I don’t mind. I’m fine really.” Although he didn’t know why he was still trying. 
“No, you’re not.”
Austin steps out of the room and sticks his head out the door, peering down the corridor. “Kayla!”
Nico heard a muffled, “What?! I’m busy!”
Again shouting back, “Just come over here please!”
Some shuffling. Some footsteps. “What’s up?”
Austin stepped aside and let her view the scene. Her eyes softened and she walked over towards where Nico stayed standing. 
“Oh Gods Nico, what’s wrong?” She asked him. 
He tried for a dry laugh. “Nononono I’m fine. I was just a little-“ he choked. He hopelessly tried to steady his voice. “Just a little worried for Will is all.”
Kayla’s eyes immediately went wide with panic at the mention of his brother’s name. “What happened? Is he ok?” She looked over to his desk. 
Austin stepped up to his sister, putting a hand on her arm. “He’s alright Kay. Just a little exhausted,” he said. They looked like they were having a silent conversation for a moment after that ended when they both looked back at Nico. 
“Do you want to sit and talk for a bit?” Austin eventually asked. 
“It doesn’t have to be about anything important,” Kayla added. “Or anything at all. Like, if you need silence with company we got you. Or silence without company. Or company without silence. Or any other combination. Or some other secret option. Or-“
“Company without silence is just the first choice you said,” Austin interrupted
Kayla thought for a second. “It is, isn’t it? It feels like there should be more combinations of those words though.”
“No company with no silence.”
“Ok but does that actually make any sense? Unless you talk to yourself professionally you wouldn’t be alone and without silence.”
“I would say that I can be alone without silence. I’m an interesting guy, I have fun talking to myself.”
“Yeah well, you’re just lonely so-“
A laugh escaped from Nico. They both looked at him. 
“Sorry,” he said, for once with a steady voice. “The way you guys talk to each other is really funny to watch.” It reminded him of how he was with Bianca when they were younger. They used to argue all the time, sometimes escalating into screaming matches. Their mother would always step in and say something wise and meaningful that completely went over Nico and his sister’s heads. If Bianca were both alive now, would it be like this? Would their arguments not be out of malice but sibling love? What would that have looked like with them?
Kayla rested an arm on her brother’s shoulder as he looked at her with fake disgust. “We are, aren’t we?” She asked him. 
“I really don’t think you’re ‘funny’. If anything funny looking.”
Kayla walked over to a circular table and sat down. “Oh please. I’m the hottest sibling. No contest.”
Austin followed her, taking a seat for himself. “If that’s what you want to believe, I will let you continue living with that lie.”
Kayla scoffed and looked back at Nico. “Wanna join the order of the round table?”
Yes. 
“I uh… Are you sure it won’t get in the way of,” he waved his hand around at the general vicinity, “infirmary duties?”
“Not really,” Austin answers. “We did rounds this morning and everybody just needs more time to heal with the meds and magic,” which he embellished with spirit fingers, “and we already gave them their afternoon doses. Unless there’s some random emergency-“
“Or Drew comes back demanding drugs again,” Kayla added. 
“Or that, then we’re just chilling.”
Nico wanted to say yes.
Don’t fool yourself kid. They don’t want you there. You’re just being a burden. They seem to be having a great time without-
Nico squeezed the ball. He moved to the table. He smiled and they smiled back. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Author’s Note:
thank you so much for reading!! To that one person who commented on my last fic saying they needed more: thank you specificially. And I’m sorry specifically for you because the wait for the next one is going to be worse than a cartoon hiatus. Tho I’m actually going to be spending that time writing instead of feeling guilty for not writing to that’s a win. also I have an Ao3 now so that’s cool
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morphogenetic · 1 month
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Mediaposting 2024, #5: Dai Gyakuten Saiban 1/The Great Ace Attorney Adventures
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Completed: March 26th (main game) / March 27th (escapades/the bonus video content)
Time spent: 37 hours (main game) / 39 hours (including bonus content stuff)
Rating: 8/10 (but with caveats because of it being the first of a duology) thoughts under the cut because there are many and a lot of them are spoilery. but the tl;dr is that they were clearly still kind of finding their footing with this game but The Game Is Good. and the reasons i'm giving it an 8/10 are mostly because i need to see how dgs2 deals with some of the loose ends before i go higher
first, the positives (and I suppose the neutrals):
first of all, on the game design side of things, the music slaps. as usual for an AA game honestly but there does not seem to be a single miss in this soundtrack which is rare. can't wait to hear the inevitable remixes and reframing of themes in dgs2.
it took me way longer than i expected to warm up to the main cast, but once I really got into the meat of the game, i found that I do really like all of them (and I mean ALL of them, including the more minor characters. except mcgilded but fuck mcgilded). this kind of suprised me because I don't think i've come close to that in any AA game except maybe the first one and t&t. also maybe aai2 but that's pushing it. like this game reminded me why I like AA at all after the absolute slogs of 5 and 6. (and the absolute 'i remember fucking none of this' of apollo justice)
the character design of this game as a whole is INCREDIBLE. there is not a single character design that I don't like in some way. from the really good student uniform designs, to susato's kimono, to iris and sherlock's outfits.....and those are just the main ones. a lot of the witnesses and even some of the jury members are memorable just on character design alone. even the designs i think are kind of ugly (coughs. mcgilded) are clearly ugly by design and not by accident. it's a feat. hope that dgs2 keeps up the good work but based on the one (very big....oops) spoiler that i know, i'd be surprised if it didn't.
the parallel between ashley graydon and gina as kids raised in poverty in the last case. mwah. magnificent. chef's kiss. 10/10 no notes
dgs sherlock is such a good interpretation of the Man The Myth and the Legend
also i really adore ryuu as a protagonist. i can't quite put my finger on why, it might honestly just be because of how fucking distressed he is all the time LOL, but i like him in a way that feels a bit deeper to me than the way in which i like phoenix. he's clearly making the best of a bizarre situation and his Law Skills are more of a matter of natural talent rather than training
the ending is. man. it's good and a very good sequel hook but can you fucking IMAGINE if they had never gotten the money to make a sequel to this game. what a hell world that would be. imagine just dropping a major hint that three characters you already know of are involved in a huge fucking conspiracy and then never getting to explain why. vlr/ztd interface level catastrophe.
and then the few negatives i have which unfortunately drag this down a little bit for me, enough to the 8/10 level...primarily the first one:
this game has WHACK pacing. having essentially 3 separate tutorials is a wild game design choice to make. the pacing felt off to me to the extent that the end of case 4 felt like it was the middle of the game, and case 5 was almost half of my playtime at 16 hours out of 37 so i think it was close to LITERALLY being halfway through. i don't have a good idea on how to fix it, given that this game has to introduce both the new dance of deduction mechanic AND the weird jury summation examination mechanic, but....there should have been something. it really made it difficult for me to fully Care about the characters until i was into case 5. and I'm glad that case 5 was ultimately good enough to make me care about everyone (e.g. i didn't really care about gina in case 3 at all), but it's pretty rough. i genuinely don't know HOW you fix the pacing issue while also keeping the overall plot outline the same, though, especially because cases 2 and 3 are so crucial. the only thing i can really think of is introducing some of the background london information in case 4 instead of 5, but.......still. or making case 4 happen more than a single goddamn day after case 3. just something to make the pace not feel nearly as weird. sighs. idk. it needed substantial tweaking but I don't have a good idea on what tweaks needed to be made. i've heard dgs2 has much better pacing from someone whose opinions i trust on that kind of thing, so i really hope it pulls through there.
more minor critique: a lot of the cases, barring 5, are weirdly easy with very rare (and also weird) spotty difficulty spikes. of course it's always hard to strike the balance in an AA game, and i wasn't expecting the tutorial to be hard, but...case 4 just kind of dragged for me because of how long the trial goes on. 5 actually did have tricky moments for me thanks to eggman graydon wanting to hide the truth and the sheer amount of evidence, but yeah. still far more challenging than the dr games just giving you all of the facts at the very beginning of the trial, though...at least shu takumi knows how to write a mystery LMAO
asougi really needed a little more lead time before getting killed off, because i like him but, without the escapades, it's probably not as much as I think the game wants me to like him, and ryuu being his best friend is not super convincing to me even though he shows that a lot more in later cases. i'm not tooootally sure how i would have fixed that, maybe keeping him alive a bit in the first half of the 2nd case? doing some more slice of life stuff with him and ryuu? or making ryuu's reaction to his death a little bit more shocked? idk. i'm REALLY glad the escapades exist because they help a lot in fleshing him out, but i really think parts of them should have been in the game proper =========== all that said. if a game gets me to write this many fucking words about it..which took me a goddamn HOUR to write jesus christ i just checked my computer clock.... it's clearly doing SOMETHING right. honestly, if the pacing wasn't so bizarre, i'd probably bump it up a full point. i am absolutely playing the second game but im already worried its gonna hit full on zero escape and raging loop level catastrophe fixation (positive) once im done so…i'm honestly putting off starting dgs2 a little bit because i'm worried that it's gonna distract me to the point of my grades/job suffering a little LOL. i haven't had that happen in a while so, at least in that way....congrats dgs you won me over. i will never stop calling you dgs because thats how i was introduced to you 7 years ago as my best friend's first new-fixation when i first became friends with her. sorry it took so long for me to get around to you.
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arsenicflame · 7 months
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ran out of time to finish my full feelings write up before s2 but i wanted to put something out there before we start getting content so this might be a bit incomplete
ive been thinking about what i really want to see in s2, and in general im happy to trust the crew with whatever they do but there is one thing id like to see
id like to see izzy not forgive ed
ive already talked about how serious i find the act of severing his toe & surrounding details in general and i think, given we KNOW its going to get worse (at some point izzy loses his leg, so) i dont think the amputation can be brushed off as just a pinky.
what i want to see is their relationship worsen and worsen and get to a breaking point and just. when everything starts to goes back to how it was before, ed tries to treat izzy like he used to (not during the kraken era, but before that, before the revenge, back when they knew each other, when they were friends) and izzy doesn't take it. he flinches, or walks away, or does anything to brush ed off. ed hasn't apologised yet, of course, its izzy, its his izzy, they understand each other! or he thought they did but now hes realising that mayyyyybe he should give him a proper apology.
so he does. and:
"i dont forgive you"
and if course. ed doesn't know what to do with this izzy always forgives him, has since they were kids! why not now?
from izzys perspective, he simply cant take it any more. he will take the consequences of his actions, but he cant lie anymore and pretend he wasn't destroyed by what ed did. and maybe hes learning its not just ed and izzy against the world anymore. there are people who will stand beside him- they might not always like him, he might spit and hiss at calling them his friends, but he knows, deep down, he is not alone anymore. and that its time to take a stand. to put himself first for once.
he cant forgive him, not for this
its at this point ed realises that he might have fucked up. really fucked up. its not that he doesn't care about how the crew feels, hadnt already realised what he had done but. again, its izzy. there was a time he thought there was nothing he could do that izzy wouldn't forgive.
the way i see it this is the point that ed starts to properly rebuild. oh he thought he was doing it before but it was more masks and layers, but now he has to truly confront his actions and the consequences they have on his relationships and that maybe. he is like his dad. but at the same time, he has the space to learn that even if he is, thats not all he can be. he can be better, choose to do better, and it's hard and doesn't always work but he has to try, has to keep trying because if he fails? he has no one to fall back on any more
so izzy doesn't forgive ed.
and ed learns to forgive himself, in time. and maybe he will apologise again, and izzy still doesn't forgive him. and maybe ed learns to be ok with that. and maybe in the wreckage of decades of blackbeard and first mate hands, they can build something new. it won't be the same, and maybe there will always be a distance between them, but in time, with work, they can be friends again.
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kiyterra · 2 years
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Okay bestie gonna ask this here cause i don't wanna flood your dash with my dc shenanigans but - in my humble opinion robert pattinson served twunk, what are the opinions on smol/short bruce and tall ass children????
(Also this is just a curiosity of mine and so sorry if it sounds pressuring but what post did you think to make art for??)
ok SO-
first off youre so right battinson is 100% twunk its literally right there in his entire build and batsuit design (which i ADORE SM) down to the high collar and armored six pack but also the littol ears and thigh holsters dksjahk
my default bruce is like a mix of comics and wfa version of him cause i do very much adore soft tired dad family man bruce but also i love to see him go absolutely insane batman-ing and be the one to say "excuse me, he asked for no pickles" (but like so politely, cause you know that comic where a garbage man asks him "you say thank you to your garbage guy?" and bruce goes "if i see him" and then my heart explodes? anyway-) for clark when they go out to eat-
so i believe that in comparison to like. the general populace he is above average height, like 6' at least. he is a tall man and he bumps his head in the supermarket aisles. BUT i also ABSOLUTELY STAN short king bruce relative to his family and friends- like. he already has to deal with diana and clark having a few inches on him (they WILL float just to annoy him, i know they would-) but then one day he goes home and passes by dick in the hallway and notices that his baby is only maybe an inch or less shorter and he's like. "oh god" but then on patrol he notices he has to look up to see the top of red hood's helmet and he's like. "OH GOD" and i am also a big fucking believer in damian growing to become taller than bruce- baby maybe up to bruce's chin goes to college and when he comes back bruce is eye level w his son's nose and he's just going "N O"
his chief thought is "i cant keep them safe in my cape anymore, i won't be able to hide them from the cameras anymore, if i stand in front of a bullet for them there's a chance it'll get past me oh god" and when he like. mentions this everyone just wants to strangle him cause 'THATS NOT THE POINT"
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chelseasasimmer · 2 years
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List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore ✨💕💗
Ok, first of all, this has been sitting in my inbox since the 29th of April and for that I sincerely apologise.
Second, I’m gonna take this opportunity to talk about one of my townies-turned-ocs (also the main character of the unnamed story that as of yet exists solely within my own head)…
🖤 Orange Bailey-Moon 🖤
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Orange was born and raised in Del Sol Valley, but has recently moved out to San Myshuno*
He's much closer to his mum (Octavia) than he is to his dad (Thorne). This is largely because Octavia got pretty much full custody of Orange when she and Thorne divorced. (Which is in turn largely because Thorne didn't really want custody of Orange because he's kind of a deadbeat dad tbh)
He's Tall™ (190 cm/6'3")
Orange has been musically-inclined since he was a child, and hopes to build a career as a singer-songwriter
His in-game traits are vegetarian, outgoing and jealous
*I'm kinda going off this fan-made map as a guide for where all the Sims 4 worlds are in relation to one another. And, in this map, San Myshuno and Del Sol Valley are connected to one another, which I actually think makes a lot of sense. Although, this story I have brewing takes place in the US, essentially, so I'm also just kinda going off the vibe that the majority of the worlds are actually all just in the US. Although, given how americentric the Sims is, that probably isn't even that much of a stretch tbh.
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summerfrwrks · 1 year
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me, unaware what 'related works' meant: oh neat, i wonder what that's about :3
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clicks on it, eyes zoom in with the word 'inspired' : i-
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me, 3 days later, still not over it: omg omg omg omg omg omg-
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i am currently in hell week(s) this sem in uni but!! hello @r-a-b-talks i want you to know that this is literally one of the greatest highlights of my fanfic writing career i will remember you forever-
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toffins · 2 years
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its her. a snarky smug bisexual...
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girlscience · 2 years
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i like to say that i am over everything i was taught as a child and other times i realize i have been having periodic breakdowns about sexual dimorphism since i was 10 and whatever caused that is very much still alive and well in the recesses of my mind
#(sorry for coming back just to dump this depressing ass post but i am not having a good time)#i know there are people outside and between the categories of strictly male/female in regards to like hormones and phenotype and such#however i am very much not. i fall very obviously directly into stereotypical average female#and sometimes it makes me want to kill people and myself#before i could get angry and yell at god for this but i don't believe in god so now it just turns into directionless hatred and anger and r#*rage#i know. I KNOW. physical strength is not the only thing that matters in a person! I KNOW THAT#ON THE OTHER HAND#the fact no matter what i do there will always be a man stronger than me makes me want to commit horrifically violent acts#and like. men that don't even have to try hard. not just that somewhere out there there is a Extreme bodybuilder who is stronger than me#no it's like. i will always work with men stronger than me. there will always be men stronger than me in my family#just regular average dudes who have denser bones and longer arms and better muscles#just because they got male fucking puberty#and it makes me unimaginably angry#and has since i was a very small child#and it's not like anger at not being the strongest person in the world or that generally there are people out there stronger than me#its specifically that male bodies got something i wanted so so desperately and i can't ever have it#and then on top of that my brain assigns a higher value to that thing i can't have#so because i don't have it i am automatically lesser for something i have absolutely zero control of#and it's not even something that really affects my life???? like i'm not competitive i'm not in sports#it's extremely unlikely i will ever be in a fist fight with a man#it's not like i can't do all the things like build a cabin and learn to wield swords or climb trees or run a farm#but some stupid fucking piece of my brain just does not give a single shit about any of that and i hate it and it makes me hate myself#and then i get angry because ive never actually studied this so maybe im wrong and i just drank the fundie christianity/terf koolaid#and im have just been ripping myself to shreds over fucking nothing for over a decade#but i dont KNOW and im too scared to look into it because what if they are right? what then? what do i do about that?#like i dont want to off myself and just leave a note that's like 'sorry my bones werent dense enough so i had to die. love yall'#like fuck that#but i don't know how to GET OVER THIS and it is awful
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iknityounot · 5 months
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(Long post, sorry y'all)
A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.
In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.
She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.
Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.
After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:
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DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.
Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!
So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.
Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.
At the end of August, the blanket was done!
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I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)
She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 
She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.
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And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.
Five stars, absolutely worth it!
(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)
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zhongrin · 4 months
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festered wounds
— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.
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© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’
✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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“i’m sorry.”
zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.
“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.
“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”
“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”
zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.
belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.
zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.
“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”
“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”
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“a-are you sure you want me?”
out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.
“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”
“oh….”
“….”
“….”
you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.
“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”
you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.
and it angered him.
but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.
funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.
“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”
“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”
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“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”
wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—
he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.
“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”
he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…
“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”
“then is your own head telling you that?”
“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.
he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.
he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.
“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”
the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.
he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.
“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”
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ghostedcas · 7 months
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
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arminsumi · 7 months
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I COULD DO THIS FOR HOURS
G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader
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🔞 mdni / mdnr / smut / n.sfw / 18+ content
NOTE: i took a 3 am thirst draft and made it a fucking fic wtf 🥴 i'm so dizzy over this one idk why i usually don't drool for my own smut but god damn this one is special to me. ik i post a lot about gojo atm and it's because i love him no apologies 👍
SUMMARY — making a cheeky comment leads to a long, steamy session in the bedroom with your husband, who's got a point to prove.
WARNINGS — nasty smut 🤤, rough sex, namecalling/nicknames (b*tch, good girl, baby, dirty girl, sweetheart), he's kinda mean, hubby gojo, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, messy/sweaty sex, daddy kink, p*ssy kiss (1), long session (3h), overstim, dirty talk (teasing, sweet, mean), incl. aftercare, lmk if i have missed smth thank u
WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k
PLAYME — daddy
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
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Your husband didn’t like that cheeky comment you made about his stamina and how fast he cums. He thought you were being pretty hypocritical, considering the fact that you cum sometimes solely because of lazy clit thumbing and shallow strokes.
“ Baby, careful what you say to me. “ he smiled at you in the kitchen, serenely washing the dishes after dinner. “ You know damn well that I could go for hours straight with no breaks. The only reason I don’t do that is because you’re too weak to handle it. ” he boasted confidently.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. That scepticism pissed him off so much that he stopped cleaning the dishes and violently threw the towel down. Your giggles rung sweetly in his ear while he scooped you off your feet and tossed you over his broad shoulder, strong build carrying you to the bedroom like he was on a mission.
He threw you down on the bed with the same force that he threw the towel down with, his hands quickly finding his phone and setting a stopwatch.
You were already giggling apologies, but he wasn’t listening. He tossed his phone onto the bed and dented the mattress with his weight as he climbed on top of you, feverish kisses nearly knocking the wind out of you.
“ I’m sorryh – mmf – ‘toruh – didn’t meanh ih – I’m sorryyy. ”
“ Save your sorries and spread your legs. Gonna have to be a little rough with you, angel. But you like that, huh ? Yeah ? Like it when daddy’s rough ? Mhm, I know. Probably like it when I’m pissed off like this, too.
You smiled. “ Yeahhh, I love it. ”
He smirked. “ Dirty girl. ”
Folding you in half and sinking his cock inside you, it felt like he was your enemy for a second with how he beat up your gummy walls with his mean cock; you were giggling and squirming about his playful roughness in the beginning, but now? You’re screaming, going dumb and limp. It makes him chuckle.
“ Fuck, baby, just look at you. ” he cooed, “ . . . just cumming over and over on this dick like a dumb bitch. I told you that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, didn’t I ? Uh-huh. I fucking told you so. Keep it together, it’s only been twenty minutes. Haha . . . and you were the one talking shit about my stamina ? Come on, apologize to me. Good girl. Tell daddy how sorry you are – haha, you cummin’? Yeah, ‘can feel your pussy fuckin’ pulsing ‘round me – fuck that’s good. You like it when I’m mean, don’t you ? ”
“ Y-yesss ! Love it love it s'much Sa—to—ruuuh ! ” you panted frantically, body jiggling like jelly with each harsh thrust.
“ So cute and dumb. ” he cooed tenderly, as if he wasn’t rearranging your guts and breaking the bed.
“ Feel that, sweetheart ? Feel me sweating ? I know you like it when I’m this close, ‘like it when you can feel the sweat drip off my abs ‘n rub against your tummy ? Yeah, I know. Damn dirty bitch. Nah-uh, eyes on me. ‘S only been an hour don’t zone out on me. ”
Really, the concept of time flew out of your head when you were laying there taking him.
You’re shaking, gummy walls and sweet spots being beat up by your husband’s mean, yummy cock. The pressure inside you builds and builds until it snaps, and you scream his name in such a high pitch that it almost makes his ears ring. He laughs a little, watching as you writhe, trapped under his beefy body. He relishes in the feeling of your pussy pulsing as you cum, it brings him close, too. Before you know it, he’s pumping his cream deep inside, pounding into you like he’s trying to ruin your pussy and reshape it to fit only his cock.
“ Fuckin’ takin’ it so well, angel. Now ‘gimme another round. Get on your tummy – there we go, aw your legs are numb ? I don’t care. It’s only been an hour. You can hold on longer than that, can’t you ? ”
From the back, he fucks you so sensually and deeply that the two of you sweat sweat sweat it up. He insistently bundles up with you under the covers to make it extra toasty. The smell of sex is hot and pungent in your lungs, and inhaling yours and his arousal and scent of cum drives him crazy. Bodies wet and slippery, he’s made a sloppy mess of you before but not quite like this; his cheeks dampen, his hair sticks to his forehead; there’s little rivulets of sweat running down the center line of his abs, following along his v-line. There’s an ache in your thighs, you’re getting overstimulated but it’s so good. And listening to his ragged, heavy breathing behind you just brings on another orgasm.
“ Fuck, baby, ‘wish you could see yourself from this angle. ” he groans erotically, brows finally knitting together tightly as he loses composure and succumbs to his own sensitivity. “ Oh, angel, just cum. Don’t hold it in – cum cum cum yeahhh there we go – that’s my fucking girl. Cumming so pretty on this dick. You’re so fucking beautiful, ‘m gonna cum too. Sh-shit look at all that frothing up, feel that ? ‘so gooey and nasty. Hahhh-ahah I’m cumin’ – cumminggg ~ ”
You can practically hear the hearts in his voice when he cums, vocals straining and rasping against the nape of your neck. He lets out this one last primal sound before pumping you full of another load of thick creamy cum. You can feel him pulsing and twitching. He presses his weight onto your back a little too much, you can feel the tones of his sweaty torso and how wet and hot his body is.
“ Haha . . . fuck . . . ” he runs a hand through his hair, smiling down at the pretty mess on his dick. “ Baby, you did so good for me. You okay ? Did I go too hard ? ” he asks tenderly, nuzzling the back of your neck, just listening to your shaky breaths as you come down from your high.
“ I can’t feel my legs. ” you swallow, dazed smile on your face. “ So good . . . ”
“ Aw, sorry, angel. I’ve got you, come here. Ooh – where’s my – phone – let’s see how long you endured me for. ”
“ Felt like . . . forever . . . ”
He chuckled under his breath at that and leaned off the bed, reaching for his phone that had fallen right off the edge when he was making the bed violently shake earlier.
“ Ooh ! Baby, we’ve got a new record. Three hours. ”
“ Oh my god, no wonder I can barely fucking move . . . you’re a menace. ”
He smiles cheekily, “ Wanna make it four ? ”
“ Are you crazy ?! ”
“ Yes, of course. Don’t you love me for it ? ” he coos in a sultry voice, coming to press a loving kiss to your damp cheek.
You feel his weight lift off the bed, you tiredly peek at where he’s going and – of course, like the sweet husband he is, he’s getting you a towel. You can hear his exhausted huffs of breath. There’s cream running down your slit, some smeared across your pussy and frothed up.
He comes back into the room, smiling admiringly at your sleepy body. You’re sinking into the pillows, too tired to think.
“ ‘toru . . . ”
“ Angel ? ” he hums in response, slowly starting to clean you up from the thighs up. You feel his big hands massaging the numbness out of your legs.
“ I love you. ”
He smirks and presses a kiss to your pussy from the back, making you giggle. “ Love you too, my girl. No one makes me feel better than you do. Come here. Haha, are your legs still numb ? Should I massage them more ? M'kay, sweet girl. ”
The silence is sweet and long. He's massaging your body, feeling over you like you're his little masterpiece, his little angel.
Then he breaks the silence.
“ Told you so. ” he smiles victoriously.
You groan. “ Shut up. I was just teasing when I said you had shit stamina ! ”
“ I know, but I still hated that you said it and felt the need to prove a point. ”
You snuggle into his chest, making his heart flutter like he's a boy with a crush again.
“ Yeah yeah, point proven. ”
“ Aaand what's the point ? Tell me, I wanna hear it. ” he teases.
“ You can go on for hours. ”
He smiles to himself. “ Damn right I can. Glad my good girl learned her lesson. ”
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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