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#weekly reminder that i am not dead!!
ejga-ostja · 1 year
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apparently I drew this
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emperorundying · 4 months
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TLT Dash Simulator Pt 2
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⚔️ cav4cav
Crazy take but people with natural thanergy can swing a sword too if they want to. It literally doesn't hurt you at all.
💜 necromxntic Follow
"people with natural thanergy" you mean necromancers. if you mean necromancers, say necromancers.
🦇 gaiuspilled-necrocel Follow
It could hurt me if they hit me with a sword :(
⚔️ cav4cav
I shouldn't have to say this but I guess I do!!! If you believe natural thanergy = inherent necro, STAY OFF OF MY BLOG!!
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#howww do these people even keep finding my blog #i am literally a thanergetic cavalier you do not believe i exist stay the fuck away
( 37 notes )
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🩸 bloodnblingee Follow
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Seventh gifset for anon!! I loveeee the seventh house aesthetic so much, sorry about the disease :( hope u like this!!
#seventh house #anon #request #gif edit #7th
( 413 notes )
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🎩 taintofpatience Follow
The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To (Alone With You)
Fandom: Religious RPF
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Emperor Undying (Necrolord Prime) / The Saint of Patience (Augustine The First)
Characters: Emperor Undying (Necrolord Prime), The Saint of Patience (Augustine The First), The Saint of Joy (Mercymorn The First)
Tags: Smut, Angst, Apostles to Lovers, Kissing, Friends With Benefits, Pining, Blasphemy, Religion Kink, PWP
Summary: Our Lord and Resurrector brings something else to life-- his first saint's libido. Beginning starts a little slow but after that it's mostly just Jaugustine fucking and sucking LOL
Keep reading
#rpf #religious fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #augustine the first #emperor undying #necrolord prime #jaugustine #emperor john gaius #nsft
( 3,004 notes )
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💀 drearybruh Follow
when yr a fucking meal but she only ever wanted a snack
💀 drearybruh Follow
it's fine. im fine. im doing great fuck you
💎 saintofawe ☑️ Follow
L + Ratio + Found your vent blog Gibbon (:
#and when our lord and emperor confronts me about cruelty towards his second-choice daughter figure I will remind him ever so gracefully that you do it to yourself #like the Radiohead song
( 1,384 notes )
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💉 se7en Follow
weekly poll!! <3
( 14,685 notes )
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🪩 3flesh5end Follow
THE TOWER PRINCES ARE 19 AND 23????
🪩 3flesh5end Follow
GET THEM OFF THE BATTLEFIELD THEY SHOULD BE AT THE CLUB!!!!
#not to defend a war criminal but kiriona is literally just a girl in the universe.... #let her dance! #come to the third girl i could treat you better
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☠️ is-the-emperor-undying-dead-yet Follow
nope.
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captainkirkk · 6 days
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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.
BNHA
something else to pretend by beeclaws
Bakugou apologies. Somehow, this makes things worse.
Retrograde by redrobin1989
Retrograde /ˈretrəˌɡrād/ adjective: directed or moving backwards noun: a degenerate person. verb: go back in position or time.
Seasoned pro heroes Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki are mentally transported back to their younger bodies due to a quirk. All they have to do is wait for the quirk to wear off for everything to return to normal. But sometimes the journey is worse than the destination.
DC
dick move by konan_konan
Part 1 of batfam twitter shenanigans
dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・52min guys what if dick grayson IS batman. that’s why he thought he was getting cancelled. it all makes sense. 784K Views | 142 Retweets | 52 Quote Tweets | 63.9K Likes
tason jodd ☑ @jsntdd・49min ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo asshole last week you said i was batman 461K Views | 88 Retweets | 16 Quote Tweets | 18.3K Likes
or: a civilian overhears a conversation between batman and nightwing. twitter does what it always does: makes things worse
the rules of playing make believe by hoebiwan
“We can’t squat in some dead guy’s mansion, Damian,” Tim says. Damian, in the midst of packing all their meager belongings into grocery sacks, ignores him.
“Why not?” Jason demands. “It’s not like he’s using it. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”
Or: Homeless!Reverse Robins squat in Wayne Manor.
Nine Worlds
with a winged heart by celebros
"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher." I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow – A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum.
Original Work
That Frightful Nest Inside the Throat by whereveryouroam
Part 1 of That Dreadful Clockwork Beats Below
Living horses were in vogue among the high and mighty of the great families, but Peter’s new owners had sent proud motorhorses, clicking over in a blur of cogs and wheels, to draw the carriage. It was a very nice carriage - plush and cushioned. He couldn’t help but think this was sinister. Masters didn’t transport slaves in finery. At least, not slaves like him.
Peter’s spent years under the cruelty of masters who want the Monster inside him to become their weapon. He is quite sure that Lord and Lady Arken will be no different.
Percy Jackson
Through rose-colored glasses (the past is perfect) by Mo13
Part 1 of Rose-colored glasses verse
Luke/Percy were in a non-consensual 'relationship' when Percy was twelve. Percy deals with the aftermath, while constantly convincing himself that his relationship with Luke was fine (IT WAS NOT). Mostly cooperates with canon up to the end of Heroes of Olympus.
The Goblin Emperor
A Complete Education by bomberqueen17
Preparing for the Emperor's wedding, everyone has some things they need to learn about.
Emperor's Best Friend by imaginary_golux
Ino and Mireän decide their cousin Maia needs a special present for his twentieth birthday.
a burning coal of kindness by egelantier for Morgan (duckwhatduck)
When Maia is kidnapped by a faction hoping to halt the construction of Wisdom Bridge, Beshelar, gravely injured, is by his side. It might just be their undoing.
The Stairs Beneath the Heart by hermitknut
Part 1 of Keystone
The reign of Varenechibal IV is over; the reign of Edrehasivar VII has begun. The transition, however, is anything but smooth, as the Alcethmeret household navigates grief and worry as well as adapting to the new emperor.
A series of missing scenes and unseen moments centering around the Alcethmeret household over the course of the first few months of Maia's reign.
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lu-vin-it · 3 months
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Luck | 2
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
Part 1
Summary: Life with Coryo in the districts is hard.
Pairings: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
Pronouns used: Gn! Use of “Mx.” and “Mxs.”
Word Count: 4,448
Warnings: Death, depression, use of morphling (but only as a pain medication.)
A/N: Okay so pt 2 is here! I am willing to do a part 3, but I wanted to leave that up to you guys cause if I do a part three then there will be a major falling out between Tigris and R, and if you’re anything like @lunatiqez and I, you are probably dreading it. Up to u guys!!
Also thank you to @/lunatiquez and @lemkay-luminary for proofreading! Ilysm!
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“Coryo?” You ask as line breaks up. 
“Hm, yes?” You let out a relieved sigh. You hate when you lose connection, because Coryo only gets one call a week, and once it ends, it ends.
“Sorry, you cut out, what were you saying?” 
“It’s fine, I said I miss home.” He pauses with a small sigh. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Coryo. It’s not the same without you.” 
“Sejanus says hello, by the way.” 
You roll your eyes. “Tell him I said hi.” 
Coryo’s laughter fills the line. “I’ll make sure to say it with more enthusiasm.” 
“I’m sorry! I just don’t care for him. Though, I imagine he’s better than the District 12 idiots you have to slum with.” 
“Exactly.” 
“Tigris says she misses you.”
“I miss her too.” 
You hum. “Tessa’s been learning how to play the violin. She’s finally given up on the guitar. Thank goodness for that, too. Ever since Lucy Gray’s interview she’s been non stop playing it, and it’s like nails on a chalkboard. The violin, on the other hand, is gorgeous.” 
“That reminds me, I’ve been going to this bar called The Hob with the other Peacekeepers, and as it turns out, Lucy Gray sings there.” You always knew it was a possibility he’d run into her again, but you hoped it wouldn’t be this soon. 
“Really?” 
“Mhm. She asked about you, and she seemed almost upset when I told her we were together.” 
You smile and bite your lip. “You told her we were together?”
“I tell everyone we’re together.” Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Wouldn’t want anyone coming for what’s yours, right?” 
You smile, though you have to swallow a lump that forms in your throat. “Yeah.”
You cherish every single phone call you have with Coryo. He’s been gone for a month and a half now, and you miss him dearly. The weekly calls you were able to secure were great, but it’s not the same as seeing him every day. 
You’ve found other ways to fill the void though. You still ate most meals with Tigris and The Grandma’am, but you also started to hang out with your sister more. You brought her shopping with you a few times, and she started playing songs for you as soon as she learned them. 
“Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.” 
You sit up straighter. “What is it?” 
“I think Sejanus is getting into some bad stuff..” You bite back the urge to say ‘Of course he is.’ “He’s been hanging around this guy named Billy Taupe. Whenever I ask about it he changes the subject.” 
“Well considering the arena...” You reply, coolly. 
“My thoughts exactly. What do you think I should do?” 
“Report him.” 
“I don’t have any proof, and I can’t go tell Commander Hoff, because he will tell Sejanus’s parents.”
You curse. “Yeah.. Yeah you’re right. I don’t imagine you have anything to record him with, do you?” 
“No, I don’t think so.” He sighs. “If he gets caught he’ll drag me down with him.” 
“Then make sure he doesn’t get caught.” You can hear a faint buzz from the other side of the line, and you frown knowing it means he has to go. 
“It’s time.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to you next week. Goodnight, Coryo. Miss you.”
“Goodnight, I miss you too, Y/N.” The line goes dead and you put the phone on the receiver. The minutes following your phone calls with Coryo are always the loneliest. You hunch over with your hands over your face and sigh. 
You thought everything was perfect when Lucy Gray won The Hunger Games. Now you weren’t sure if anything would go to plan. 
“Y/N?” You glance at your bedroom door to find Tigris looking at you confused. 
“Hey. I forgot you were coming, ‘m sorry.” You rub your face. 
“I always come over on Fridays.” 
“Yeah, I know. I’m really not sure how I forgot.” You're occupied, that’s how. Occupied with the reality that maybe your life isn’t so perfect. 
“Did you just get off of the phone with Coryo?” 
“How’d you guess?” You glance at Tigris, her features haven’t changed much since the dark days. Back then, you dreamed big. You dreamed of a future where you and Tigris had your own fashion line, that you ate however much you wanted, of whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted; and that you were married to Coryo. It was actually Tigris’ idea originally, because she wanted you to be her cousin too. It took about two years after she initially suggested it for it to grow on you, but once it did, you never changed the plan. 
She sits down beside you. “You have that look on your face.” 
“Remember when we used to talk about the future together? How we’d have our own fashion line? Or how I was going to marry Coryo so we could be cousins finally?” 
Tigris laughs. “Yeah, that was forever ago.” 
“Yeah. It was.” 
Your best friend places a hand on your back. “There’s still time.” 
“Twenty years.” You lean into her. “Things are so different.” 
A few days later, on Monday,  you sit in the same spot, with the same red phone in your hand, and dial the same number. 
“Hello?” 
Hearing his voice never fails to put a smile on your face. “Hey Coryo. How’s everything going?” 
“Good actually. I took the Officer’s test yesterday.” 
“Really? That’s amazing, Coryo!” You breathe a laugh. “What happens if you pass it?” 
“If I pass I can start climbing the ranks, if I ever become a commander we could see each other again. Commander Hoff goes to the Capitol for meetings all the time.” 
“Seriously? You might actually get to come here?” Your voice is shakey. 
He laughs a little. “A little less enthusiasm, please.” 
“I’m sorry! I just.. I was coming to terms with the fact that we won’t be able to see each other in twenty years—“ 
“Do you not want to see me?” He interupts.
“Of course I do! Coryo, I’m over the moon.” You laugh. “This is amazing.” 
“I know. Tell Tigris for me?”
“Of course. She’s going to be so happy!” 
He chuckles. “I know. Also.. I got a recording of Sejanus.” 
“How? On what?” 
“Jabber jay. A messed up mutant that Dr. Gaul made. We were caging them when he started telling me about his plans.. so I recorded him, and I sent the bird off with the rest of them.” 
“Where are they being sent?” 
“Back to their creator.” 
“To Dr. Gaul.” 
“Will you tell her to expect something from me?” 
You smile. He trusts you. “Yeah. When’s our next call? I’ll make sure to do it before.” 
“No, I need you to do it now. The Jabber jays will be there tomorrow.”
You widen your eyes. “Okay.. yeah, I can do that.” You glance at the clock on your bedside table, if you’re going across town to speak to Dr. Gaul, you have to do it now. “I have to go now if I’m going to make it.” 
“Oh of course, thank you, N/N.” 
“Always. Miss you.” 
“Miss you too.” You hang up your phone and rush out of your room. 
As you put on your shoes at the front door, Tessa calls out for you. She sits in front of the coffee table beside your Mother in the sitting room.
“Where are you going in such a rush?” 
“I have to speak with Dr. Gaul.” 
Your Mother furrows her brows. “It’s so late. Can’t this wait till the morning?”
You shake your head. “It’ll be too late, it’s about Coryo.” 
Your Mom sighs. She’s known for a long time not to get in between you and the Snow’s, it never ends well. You’re hit with the memory of being fifteen and told that you couldn’t sleep over at their penthouse because your Father was having coworkers over for a big dinner, and in retaliation, pouring out every spice in the kitchen so that all of the food tasted awful. “Okay. I love you.” 
You open the door. “Love you too.”
“Be safe.” You nod and walk out. 
Your driver is waiting for you with your car at the bottom of the stairs. You spend half a second wondering if he just waits there for you, but then shake the thought out of your head. Why should you care? He’s being paid. 
“Take me to the Games’ building. I need to speak with Dr. Gaul.” The driver nods, and you give him a curt smile before lifting the privacy screen. You look out your window, taking in the Capitol. Sure, it was beautiful all the time, but at night, it was something else. The golden lights illuminating the streets, the people dressed to the nines, the dark blue sky that was once filled with stars— though not in your lifetime— now just an empty void with the moon in the middle. You feel compelled to smile as you absorb everything. 
The car slows as it comes to the front of the Games’ building. Your driver rushes out to get your door for you. As you step out, you look at the front doors, where Dr. Gaul stood. 
“Well, if it isn’t Mxs. Coriolanus Snow.” She greets.
You walk up to her. “Dr. Gaul, I’m here to bring you a message.” 
“Oh? And what would that message be?” 
“Listen carefully to the Jabber Jays from 12.” 
She looks at you incredulously. “12? I expect this message is coming from Mr. Snow, then?” 
“It does, but it’d be in your best interest to keep that to yourself.” 
She raises her eyebrows. “Was that a threat, Mx. Rose?” 
“No, of course not. Just… a suggestion.” 
Dr. Gaul smirks, crossing her arms. “It’s not safe to be out alone around this time.” She looks around. “Are you alone?” 
“No, I was driven here.” 
“Well, be driven home. We’re done here, Mx. Rose.” The woman looks you over before walking towards the parking lot. You turn around and walk back to your car, where your driver still stood holding your door open.
The next morning, you get up early and head to the Snow residence. Thankfully, it was the apartment connected to your own, so you didn’t go far. You don’t stop to knock, either, just walking in and going straight to Tigris’s room. 
“T?” You call out as you enter her room. 
“In the bathroom!” You go to your best friend’s bathroom, where she is taking her hair out of rollers. 
“Hello! Don’t you look gorgeous this morning.”
The blonde smiles. “Stop it! I don’t even have all my rollers out yet.” 
You reach up and start pulling one out carefully. “Coryo called me yesterday, he took an officer’s test.” 
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Well since he graduated from The Academy, he can get a job as an officer, and maybe eventually even a commander.” You place the roller down on the counter. “And if he becomes a commander, he’ll be able to make trips here.” Tigris’s neck snaps towards you. “He could see us again, T.” 
“You’re lying.” She shakes her head. 
“I’m telling you the truth, he’ll be able to come back.” 
Tigris grins and wraps her arms around you, pulling you in for a big hug. “This is the best news! I’m so happy!” She squeals, causing you to laugh loudly. Not at her, but with her. You’re both over the moon. 
Later, you and Tigris walk through your favorite fabric shop, your driver trailing behind you with your full cart. You pick a few yards of fabric, and you are still browsing. Tigris also picks out a fabric she likes, so you pile in some of that. 
“Do you think we’ll ever actually start our own line?” 
Not a beat passes before Tigris nods. “I have no doubt that we will.” She gives you a smile. “And you will be married to Coryo, and I will be married to some rich man, and we will be next door neighbors just like we are now but in bigger houses—“
“Don’t you mean mansions? Isn’t that how we always said it?” You ask with a smile.
She rolls her eyes. “The point is, our dreams will come true. I mean, you’re already with Coryo, that dreams come true. Why shouldn’t all of our other ones?” 
You nod, not utterly convinced. “It’s just.. me and Coryo get together, and a day later he’s banished from our home for 20 years. That seems like a sign.. right?” You feel crazy admitting that out loud. You’ve never believed in “signs”, just unfortunate fate, but this one is too big to ignore.
“Maybe it’s a sign that you guys can get through anything. Don’t give up on him, N/N, my cousin is stupid, but he loves you, anyone with eyes can tell you that. He’s not going to let anything get in between you, you shouldn’t either.” You bite your lip and nod. “Plus, when he becomes commander he’ll visit us. You just have to hold on a bit longer.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I love him too— you know that— I guess I’ve just been overwhelmed.” 
Tigris places a hand on your arm. “You don’t have to act like that with me. You can talk to me, N/N, you always have.” Her face is full of concern. 
You smile. “I know. I’m fine, I promise.” 
She smiles and nudges you. “Good! Now,” Tigris hooks your arms together. “What colors should our shop be? I’m thinking orange and red, Tigris and Rose, you know?”
 You grin. “That sounds perfect. Our first line could be fire themed, too.” 
Your best friend gasps. “That’s perfect! I can see the silhouettes now.” 
You give her a knowing look and nod. “Once I get out of University, let’s swear to start.” You offer her your pinky, which she wraps with her own in a swift motion. 
“Deal.” 
You and Tigris went to your home after you were done shopping. You sew for a while, and then eat dinner next door with The Grandma’am. 
You wake up the next morning with a sick feeling. Your gut is yelling at you, and you have no clue why. You lay in bed for half an hour before you get up to find your Mother, thinking that maybe she could give you morphling for the pain, but the second you leave your room, you’re so anxious to get back you feel like you're on the verge of a panic attack. You continue anyway, counting each step to ground yourself. 
It takes you 56 to finally find your Mom. She’s sitting in the library with a book, a different one from last night.
“Y/N? Honey, are you alright? You’re trembling.” Her voice  fills with worry. She immediately comes to her feet and stalks over to you. 
“Yes— Maybe. I don’t know. I-I woke up really.. scared? I need.. something, I don’t know.” You’re not sure you’ve ever sounded so pathetic. You feel so vulnerable. 
“Of course, come, I’ll give you some morphling.” She grabs your hand, and for the first time in a while, you’re grateful she’s so affectionate. She wraps her other arm around your back, and slowly takes you over to the desk in the middle of the library. Your Mother helps you sit down and then starts rummaging through the messy drawers. “I keep some in here for my headaches.” 
You nod. “You read a lot.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself.
She laughs. “Yeah.. nearly one book a day.” She pulls out a small vial, definitely smaller than what Dean Casca Highbottom drank from. “Bottoms up. It’ll only take a second to kick in.” You take it and quickly swallow the dark liquid, grimacing at the taste. This makes your Mother laugh again. “Better yet?” She asks after a beat.
At first, you go to say no, but then a warm feeling swarms your body and you can no longer feel the terror or vulnerability. “Yes, actually.” You smile. “Thank you, Mother.” You lean down and kiss her cheek, something that leaves your Mom glowing. 
“You’re very welcome. If you ever need any more and you can’t find any, let me know, I have some vials in my room.” You nod and stand up. “I love you.” 
“I love you, too.” You give her another smile before walking back to your room. As soon as you walk in, your eyes snap to your phone. The bright red plastic phone that has become your favorite thing since Coryo left, yet as you look at it, your heart starts beating fast. You can’t figure out what’s making it beat so fast, probably due to the morphling. 
You shake your head and walk into your closet, everything is red, black, or white. Your shirts, your pants, your shoes. You run your hand over the hanging clothing. You stop on your favorite shirt, pulling it out, and then grabbing pants that look the best with the white top. After you change, you toss your pajamas into the hamper, and then grab a pair of shoes, before walking into your room. You set the shoes down beside your sewing desk which you sit in front of. You start going through your notebook to find a design to work on. 
Hours pass, and before you know it, it's dark out. You stop sewing when you hear your Dad come home, a clear sign it’s 7:15, since he never comes any earlier or later. You slip on your shoes and stand up to stretch. With a sigh, you gaze at the dress you’re working on. It’s going to be beautiful when it’s done. You plan to give it to Tessa, thinking that the purple on the trim would compliment her skin. You pull it over your mannequin and pin it in place. 
You’re admiring your work in full scale when your phone starts ringing and your stomach drops again. You can tell that this is it. This is the reason you’ve been so anxious. You walk over and pick up the phone. 
“Hello?” You can hear music in the background, and lots of voices. The call is obviously being made from a public place.
“Y/N?” It’s Coryo. 
You smile. “Hey! How’re you calling so early? I thought that you could only call onc—“
“Listen very carefully, okay? I don’t have much time, so I need you to listen. Okay?” His voice trembles. 
You furrow your brows. “Okay.” 
“The rebels Sejanus was helping bought guns with the money he gave them. Last night, I had to shoot two of them.” You gasp. “One of them was the mayor's daughter.” 
“Oh Coryo..”
“And this morning Sejanus was hung for treason.”  You widen your eyes. 
“What?”
“The other rebel hid the guns, but if they find them, I’m dead, Y/N.” Tears pool in your eyes. “So.. I have to go.” His voice breaks. “Lucy Gray and I are leaving at dawn.” 
Something inside of you breaks. Your stomach hurts, you feel nauseous, and tears are falling from your eyes faster than you can stop them. You sit down on your bed. “Coryo.. What do you mean?” He doesn’t answer. “What do you mean?” Nothing. “Coryo?” Your voice breaks. 
“I’m so sorry.” Pain laces his voice. “I want things to be different. I want to be there with you, but Sejanus messed everything up, N/N. I’m sorry.”
“Y-You can’t… What about Tigris? The Grandma’am?” Your lungs feel heavy. 
“You’ll take care of them, I know you will.” 
A sob racks your body. “I-I can’t.. Coryo, please.”
“I love you.” The line clicks and you fall forward onto the ground. Sobs rack your body, one after one, until you can’t take it anymore, and you just scream. He’s gone. Coriolanus Snow, the man you thought you would marry, the man you grew up with, the man you loved more than anything, is gone. 
You don’t know how long it is before your parents run into your room and fall to your sides. You can’t hear them over your heart pounding in your ears. You can’t catch a breath, either. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see a servant ushering Tessa away. For a moment, you feel bad she’s witnessed you like this, but then you remember why you’re like this in the first place, and it doesn’t seem so important. You hold onto the phone tighter as you curl into the fetal position. Your Mother lays her body over yours, and your Father runs off. 
You stay like that for a while, you think. Just curled up under your Mother, screaming and hyperventilating. Coryo is your everything, and with one phone call, your world is shattered.  
Your Mother moves and Tigris crouches beside you, helping you to sit. 
“Y/N? What’s wrong?” 
No. No. You shake your head. The realization that you have to tell everyone is deafening. You stare at Tigris through your tears, the memories of the three of you together crushing you. You clutch your chest with your free hand before bringing your knees up to it. “Coryo..” Is all you can mumble. 
Her face drops. “What about Coryo? Is he okay?”
You nod, not wanting her to worry while you gather the strength to say more. “He’s..” You swallow a lump down. “Leaving.” Suddenly, you can hear a pin drop in the room. Everyone stopped moving, stopped breathing. 
“What?” 
You hold up your phone. “He called.. said he had to go.” 
A tear falls down Tigris’ face. “Did he say why?”
“No.” Is your immediate answer. Maybe it's a little obvious you’re lying, given the speed, but no one presses further. 
“So what.. he’s just going to try his hand at surviving out there?” She brings a hand to her forehead. “He knows nothing about the woods.” 
“Lucy Gray is with him.” Normally you’d be mad she was able to be so close to him, but honestly, you were happy he at least has her, a shot at surviving out there. 
Tigris seems confused. “They’re running away together?” 
Hurt swells in your stomach again. Were they? Was everything Coryo said to you a lie? You break down crying again. You’re disappointed about it, you hate crying, but it was foolish to think you were done mourning the love of your life after one good cry. “It’s not like that.” You shakily explain to her. “He wouldn’t—“ You interrupt yourself with a sob. Tigris wraps her arms around you and pulls you into her. You both lean back against your bed, holding each other, and crying. 
Hours later, Tigris sleeps peacefully beside you, her arm draped across your stomach. You were turned on your side, facing her, and quietly crying. As you look at her, you note all the similarities between her and Coryo. You think about how you will never get to see him grow old, how he will never become the President of Panem, how you will never get married to him.
You fall asleep sometimes around midnight, you dream of a life with Coryo. 
The next day, you stay curled up in your bed as Tigris goes to work. You get out of bed a few times to use the bathroom, but you have all your meals brought to you. Though, you barely eat anything. A few bites but that was it. You went in and out of consciousness, crying for a moment every time you woke back up to reality. You aren’t sure how you can sleep as much as you are right now. It seems impossible. But you do.
You hear your Father come home, and deja vu hits you like a brick. You glance at the clock, 7:23. 8 minutes late. Weird. You close your eyes again, hoping for more sleep, for more dreams of Coryo. But moments after, your bedroom door is opened and shut without a knock. You glance at the door and the breath is knocked out of you. It’s Coryo. 
He rushes over to you and scoops you up in his arms. “I’m so sorry.” 
“I don’t.. Coryo?” You start crying again, thinking that he has to be a hallucination. A sick trick your own mind is playing on you. “You’re not here.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck. It smells sort of like him, though. This is a really, really good trick. 
“I am, I’m here. I’m not leaving you again.” He pulls away from the hug and holds your face in his hands, a gesture so normal it hurts. “I’m here, okay?” 
You surge forward and kiss him, you can’t make up what you feel when you’re kissing him, joy like that can’t be forced, so when you feel it, you know he’s there. You gape at him when you pull away. “But I thought you had to leave?” You ask, forming a small smile, though tears still fell down your cheeks.
“I found the guns and destroyed them. And I passed the officer’s test.” He hesitates. “Yesterday Commander Hoff offered me a spot in district 2, I went back and took it. They sent me here instead and Dr. Gaul met me at the train station. She’s going to tell everyone I was in 12 as part of my internship.”
“Internship?” 
He nods. “Dr. Gaul offered it to me. I start next week.”
Your smile widens. “That’s.. I don't even have words, Coryo.” 
He smirks slightly. “Well, good thing we don’t need words.” He leans down and kisses you again. It's a long, sweet, kiss that you savor. When he pulls away, you’re left wanting more. “I meant what I said when I called you. I love you.” Butterflies erupt in your stomach, the ones only he can cause. 
You grin and wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you too.” You finally take him in, his  appearance has changed slightly. He’s wearing a white t-shirt with gray cargo pants, and his beautiful blonde curls have been buzzed. You bring a hand up to his scalp. “Your curls!” 
“I know, weird, right?” He smiles and brings a hand up to his head too. 
“A little bit, but you look so handsome anyways, I can hardly be sad.” You bring him in for another kiss, your favorite thing to do ever since the first one he gave you. 
For the first time in months, you don’t doubt that everything is okay. 
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
Taglist: @ems-alexandra , @becauseseaotters
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chiefdirector · 4 months
Text
Remembering | Tim Bradford | The Rookie
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten
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tw: some suicidal thoughts referenced (one sentence)
-----
“What do you know about your case worker, Kade Sullivan?” Grey said, still keeping his gaze on (Y/N) despite her looking away and back through the glass to watch Tim questioning Diaz. “We believe that he may have had some involvement into how Regina Diaz got to a position to leverage both you and the department.”
“Right. I never really saw Sullivan. He stayed away from me. I met him once, maybe twice. He likes to keep a professional distance.” She slowly answered. 
Grey lifted his coffee cup up and took a small sip. “You’re a good judge of character, (Y/N). Did anything seem off about him? I know it was a while back but anything helps.”
“He seemed a bit odd, nervous even. But I put it down to him being paranoid about the operation. I mean it can’t be easy for these caseworkers to not have consistent contact with their UC’s.”
“What do you mean? Did you not check in with him daily?”
“No.” (Y/N) said, looking down. Now that she said it out loud, it was strange that Kade never requested to check in with her and Williamson often. “He wanted weekly check-ups. He never said why though.”
“Is there anything else? At all because the more you can remember, the less leverage Regina will have to bargain with us.”
“I’m sorry, Wade. I really am. I can have a look through some of my journals from that time, I think Tim kept them.”
Grey nodded his head. “Please. I guess it’s now down to Tim.”
-----
“Hello Officer Bradford, I’m glad to see you back in here again after your break. You kept me waiting for longer than I had hoped.” Regina said, posed as a wall of confidence as she had done during every other talk with the detectives. “I found it rather rude.”
“Not my problem.” Tim retook his seat opposite her. He had stepped out when Regina had started to get irate with him, he needed her as calm and rational, well as rational as a drug queen-pin could be, before he could get anything viable from her. 
He remembered the day he had arrested her, how helpless and frightened she seemed. She was backed into a corner, but now she had a fighting chance and by God did she know it. “You wanted a deal. Let me say this one more time. Tell us about Kade Sullivan and I’m sure the District Attorney will be nicer to you.”
Regina smirked. “No. I have something you want. So I lay out the terms. You know what I want after our… exchange but I want something first. I think that is only fair, considering your situation.”
“My situation?”
“Oh you know. How (Y/N)‘s being back in LA will cause some problems for you and your colleagues.” Regina watched, laughing softly as Tim’s face twisted in confusion. “You really think that just because I’m sitting in handcuffs that I wouldn’t follow through on my threat.”
“Whatever it is, call it off. Now!”
“How about you do something for me first, Officer Bradford. Quid Pro Quo.”
“Fine. What do you want?”
“I want you to tell me how it felt two years ago when I forced (Y/N) to vanish. How it felt to lose your wife and not being good enough to find her.”
Of all the things he expected her to say, this was one of the last. He had thought that she would have asked to walk free, or a reduced sentence at the least, but she just wanted to relish in his pain. 
She wanted to know how numbing it felt for him to filter by day to day, his reason to carry on with each day painstakingly stolen from. She wanted to enjoy the powerlessness he had felt when each lead led to another heartbreaking dead end. She wanted him to be reminded of each day, and how they got more and more painful as time went past. Her demand was a reminder of the nights he would drink himself to sleep because that was the only way he could close his eyes and not see (Y/N) face in his mind.
It was a reminder of how he couldn’t look at daisies without crying, or enjoy music, or find a purpose. It was a reminder that he had become a hateful shell of who he used to be, and that even though she was back with him, he didn't know if he would ever get that piece of his former self back. It was a reminder of how he planned for an easy way out for himself if the grief got too bad.
Regina wanted to remind Tim that she had taken it all away before, and that she could take it all away again. And she wanted him to admit that.
“So, Officer Bradford. What will it be?”
Tim launched himself up so he could lean down on the table and over her, “You should know how I felt. It was probably the same way you did when your husband died when the LAPD raided one of his warehouses. I was there that day. I took him, so you took her. But I got my wife back, but your husband is still six feet under.”
“How dare you!” Regina screeched, as she rattled in the chains, trying to find her way out of the cuffs. For the first time since she had been arrested, she lost her well maintained composure.  
Tim took a step back from the table. “Thank you for cooperating. Prison transport will be here for you soon.”
“But what about our deal?! You won’t know what's coming without me.”
“I think we’ll be fine, Ms. Diaz,” Tim kept his back to her as he stopped at the door “because we now know that we were being hunted, so now we can prepare. So, thanks for the heads up. Enjoy prison.”
As soon as the door shut behind him, Tim leant against the door, trying to make sense of what had happened. Surely she was bluffing, they could monitor her calls and her visitation  to try to not allow her to give any command, but if she was as intelligent and conniving as she had presented herself to be, she would find a way around it. 
As he heard Grey and (Y/N) exit the observation room, he pushed himself off the door. Grey held himself strong, not showing any panic or concern at this stage, but his eyes darted in thought, clearly going over the possibilities of what could happen now. (Y/N) presented herself similarly, except her tell was the fiddling of her wedding band. She used to play with her engagement ring, but due to the dangers of the job and the possibility of it causing harm when in contact with a perp, she quickly replaced it with a plain wedding band, identical to Tim’s.
“So what now? You don’t really believe her, do you?”
(Y/N) moved to place her hand on Tim’s arm. “I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
“Then it’s settled,”  Grey said, “We hope for the best and plan for the worst.”
Part Ten | Part Twelve
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Tags: @xceafh  @kmc1989  @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e
Tags are open :)
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Text
03/18/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; Cast&Crew; Samba; Leslie Jones; Taika; Rachel House; Rhys; Kristian; New Weekly Event Calendar; YouWear50Well; Ranker; AdoptOurCrew Rhys Radness; Fan Spotlight; Fundraiser Status; Kudoboard; Watch Parties; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika
Hey friends! Thank you for the kind words about my head injury! So far so good, not dead yet-- although I am a bit out of it so I apologize if i'm not totally articulate! I appreciate you all reaching out and sending love <3 You are the best crew ever!
= Cast & Crew Sightings =
== Samba More BTS ==
Samba gave us a whole bunch more BTS today! This time regarding the Spanish Jackiez Set! (I ran out of room for images on this so please visit the stills links for the pile of pics Samba dropped.)
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Stills #1: Spanish Jackiez Stills
Stills #2: More Spanish Jackiez Stills
Video #1: Matthew confirming stuff
Video #2: "Hey Hey, Just mee and my big swords here" - Erroll
Video #3: "Are you a husband Kristian?"
Video #4: Flaming Bananas Practice
Video #5: Flaming Bananas Take
== Leslie Fucking Jones ==
Just, what can I say, this woman is on fire every time I see her. <3
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SRC: Leslie Jones IG
== Taika ==
Taika was all over the place today, which is AWESOME! It's so good to see him feeling more comfortable posting on SM again, he also apparently is in some sort of influencer era because he keeps posting product reviews, which is hilarious and awesome.
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=Rachel House =
Rachel House directed The Mountain, and Taika helped Produce it, she's out exhibiting the soundtrack that's available now!
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Are you currently in Aotearoa (New Zealand)? They've got some screenings of the Mountain and Q & A sessions with Rachel! Visit the @temauunga linktree for more information and availabilities!
= Rhys =
For those of you not already aware-- Rhys is having a cameo on Night Court! As the Duke of Greybog. Available on Peacock!
= Kristian Nairn =
Just Kristian being sweet and continuing to keep us updated
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= Gizmo = Poor Gizmo is missing Theo.
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== Mar 18 - 24 Event Calendar ==
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March 19th: London Billboard Round 2!
== YouWear50Well ==
Early reminder! The 21st is Rhys' Birthday! Since it'll be the 21st for some crew members earlier than others, @yronnia was kind enough to give us information early regarding the 50th birthday news! Please be sure to Post your birthday wishes to Rhys and show him your appreciation! Send your fanart and other creations using #YouWear50Well. Please Note: Please do not tag Rhys repeatedly! He's going to be getting a lot of notifications. Even just having notifications under #YouWear50Well will help keep everything visible :)
== Ranker ==
Wanna help boost Our Flag Means Death? There's another Ranker poll! Remember to rank OFMD up, and other shows down if you want to help keep OFMD up. Obviously vote how you like though :)
== Adopt Our Crew: Rhys Radness ==
So something I didn't cover yesterday was all the Rhys Radness going on over on Twitter! The first round of votes results were:
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There are 4 categories: Movies, Commercials, Short Poppies, and Television
Todays options were:
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Now one thing you'll notice, is the tv-show category between Stede Bonnet & Charles, and Steve and Murray got a bit out of hand. Most of the rest of the polls ranged in the 200-400 votes-- while those two ranged in the 7-9000K votes. Obviously somebody was having some bot fun. What's interesting is that during the day, once the bots started, they were heavily favoring Charles, and Murray, then the other half of they day they were heavily favoring Stede and Steve! We'll see who wins later tonight!
== Fan Spotlight! ==
Two more cast cards! This time Connor Barrett and Michael Crane! Our two captive Englishmen from Season 1! Thank you @melvisik for keeping these going :D
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= MaxFanFaves =
Our dear crewmate @iamadequate1 has been hosting their own #MaxFanFaves on Twitter-- and its down to the final 4!
Coyote Vs Acme / Harley Quinn, and Our Flag Means Death / Gentleman Jack!
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== Kudoboards closing soon =
Last chance! Thank you to @sharpenyersword on Twitter for setting up ALL THE KUDOBOARDS! Rhys' birthday kudoboard will close on the 20th, the rest will close on the 22nd.
Go send the cast and crew some love folks!
Rhys Darby's Birthday
David Jenkins
Nathan Foad
Con O'Neill
Ruibo Qian
Leslie F*cking Jones!
Matthew Maher
Vico Ortiz
Samson Kayo
Alex "Ass Tonight" Sherman!
David Fane
Kristian "Wee John Wednesdays" Nairn!
Samba "BTS and Baking King" Schutte!
Fellow OFMD Fan Crew!
== Taika Kudo Board ==
LAST DAY FOR TAIKA!
= Watch Parties =
== Wrecked ==
There are sources being passed around. If access is an issue, DM @iamadequate1 on Twitter or Tumblr
Season 3 watch from March 18th to March 22nd. 
Times will be 10pm GMT / 5pm EST / 4pm CST / 2pm PST. Watch two episodes per day. Episodes are 21-22 minutes each. Use the following Saturday for the tags/watch if interested but not able to make this time.
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Hashtags: 
#WreckedPirates
#SaveOFMD
#RhysDarbyFaction
New watch parties!
Movie: Boy Date: Sunday March 31st at Time: 10am EST / 2pm GMT. We're watching Boy (2010) Hosted By: @tillychmo & @regg_official Location / Hastags: TBA
== Fundraiser Statuses ==
eSIMS and Sanitary Products for Gaza
03/10/24 - $5689 / 191 Supporters / 71 %
03/11/24 - $5814 / 194 Supporters / 72%
03/18/24 - $6558 / 248 Supporters / 81%
Getting close all!
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= In Soup Now =
03/10/2024 - £925 / 39 supporters / 18%
03/11/2024 - £1183 / 47 supporters / 23%
03/18/24 - £1833 / 69 supporters (nice) / 36%!
Still going-- 12 days left!
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== Love Notes ==
Hey Lovelies. It's that time again. Time for me to gush over you for a bit.
Look at you! Go look at yourself in the mirror. Whether you see dark circles under your eyes, someone you can't recognize, or someone feeling put together --- You're gorgeous inside and out.
You are a tenacious, strong, amazing person, and whether you are where you want to be or not, you are making progress.
You're doing so well, even when it feels like you're not. Progress is so hard to gauge when you're living it-- but I know, because I talk to you all every damn day, that you are getting there. You bring out the best in every one around you, and you do so without even knowing it.
Even when things feel down, just know we can see you growing and you bring so much joy to our lives. I continue every day to be thankful for finding this little corner of the internet, for letting me meet each and every one of you.
Nothing can stop you lovelies-- nothing at all.
You're gonna get there, it just may take some time--
Remember to take breaks and get some rest if you can, it always makes things feel more manageable. But whatever you do, don't give up <3
We're here and we believe in you.
Love you crew, <3
== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==
Tonight's theme-- Driving! ... or parking, in Murray's case. And NO this does not indicate who I voted for. Putting Murray vs Steve was cruel to be honest, how am I supposed to choose between those two!? Darby Gif Courtesy of: @ofmooshd This terrible Taika gif is courtesy of me, cause I was gonna put it in his sighting section then realized I could just put it here.
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jahnavisurenda-21 · 2 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||Stress Relief
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Take a deep breath, before you yell at some poor face who just happens to have the misfortune to walking in to one of your days, where everything seems to be going south.
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This seemed to have taken one of the most bizarre turns you could have ever imagined, you had no idea why you had agreed to such a trivial, petty matter.
Oh! Now you remember it was Charlie, who had clasped your hand looked at you with the doe eyes which reminded you of some of the Korean shows you watched as a teen and young adult.
You would admire the eye makeup, the most because once your dad who had been a makeup artist had told his philosophy of makeup to look absolutely flawless, the eyes and lips should be standing out the most.
Totally irrelevant, you didn't understand the point of recalling this faint memory of your dad. You wished you could just go back to your suburban house, in the mountainside feel the spring flowers touch your skin again, you can't believe you once hated them.
Well, you always, miss what you once never cherished and lost.
"Coming this far, can't believe all the messed-up hotel mess is on Y/n." Angel dust once told Alastor, "The civil examinations study there and study even after your dead!"
"A what now?" Alastor questioned, "Oh! you didn't know? Not very bad now, are you?" Niffty asked, climbing on Alastor.
"What exams?" Alastor had asked once again, pushing Niffty from his shoulder,
"You always are the last person to know about anything are you? Don't you have like special powers or something which you can spy on anyone?"
Alastor looked at them like he was just about to lose his smiling grin, but of course smile is the best makeup.
"So, you know right Heaven is facing some economical crisis they spent so much time providing the 'perfect after life' guess the angels forgot money doesn't exactly grow on trees." Angel said sarcastically. But some hints of satisfaction could be made out.
"How exactly is this related to Y/n now?"
"You seriously don't know anything." Vaggie interjected, "When you had mysteriously run of in one of your 'expeditions' Adam the asshole came to the hotel, not for the execution apparently in the weekly magazine or something in heaven there was about a mysterious economist, or a business manager who was really good at managing expenses and could stabilize the afterlife."
"Well that turned out nicely did it not?"
"Ugh!" Vaggie hit her head, "No you egocentric, piece of shi--"
"Don't try that with me." Alastor warned,
"Yeah yeah she's really good." Angel finished, "It was tracked to Y/n, now heaven knows that Y/n is still choosing to be in hell, Now they want her there in heaven."
"To help them manage there life."
"Y/n has to write a civil exam the hardest one, or else they would attack the hotel."
"Well they don't know who they are messing with."
You sniffled, "Can't do this anymore." You murmured, "Want to die."
"Now my dear, is that a word you should use when you are literally saving the hotel?" Alastor appeared like the shadow, like always.
"Alastor?" You slowly poked your head from the blanket, "Why dear you're a mess!" Alastor said moving next to you on the bed,
"Can I put my head on your lap?" You asked, he nodded cheerfully.
"So why did you agree to this my dear?"
"I didn't want to fail everyone the extermination is already scheduled earlier than expected I didn't want to crush Charlie's dream."
"You're working really hard, without sleeping, isn't that concerning? It's concerning me."
"Thank god your here!" You said,
Alastor put a hand on your tear-stained cheeks.
"It's time for a little rest. Dear."
"I can't the exam is in three more days I think, I don't know how time works in hell."
"If That Adam guy keeps bothering you, I'll just remind him why I am here."
You laughed, "I'm sure you will."
You kissed his cheek, "Thank you."
"Never forget to smile my dear, and now take care."
He switched of the lights, and saw you instantly hold him close before cuddling up to him, he really knew how to make you loosen up a bit.
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daddysuga101 · 11 months
Text
You want what you can’t have: Part one
Suguru x reader x Satoru
Warnings: self pleasure, sexual conversations, predominantly Satoru and Suguru pov, this was way more than I meant to write hence the two-parter
Part 2 here: https://www.tumblr.com/daddysuga101/720344475594063872/we-want-what-we-cant-have-part-2
The light of the tv scrapes over Sugurus eye lids, it's loud.
So loud he can't ignore it once he hears it so he has no choice but to wake up.
He reluctantly stands to his feet, shutting off the tv his body heavy and tired. More than likely due to fact he feel asleep on the hard wood floor of your dorm, during you, Satoru and Sugurus weekly movie nights.
His eyes find your limp form on the couch, popcorn spilled on the floor by you. You look like you're sleeping better than he was, so he wasn't sure what to do.
Should he move you?
He was tempted to for the sake of bettering your sleep but was equally scared he'd end up waking you in the process.
A blanket should suffice.
He tugged the covers over your shoulders, smiling to himself at the drool dripping from your parted lips.
He laughed quietly, reminding himself to tease you about it later along with Satoru.
Speaking of Satoru..
"Adorble right?" The white haired man questioned from behind him. Suguru didn't know when he reentered the room but his sudden presence was surprising enough.
"Satoru, you'll give me a heart attack one day." Suguru dead panned. Satoru shrugged.
"You didn't answer my question. She's hot right?"
Suguru shrugs picking up the discarded dishes and trash the three of you haphazardly left everywhere.
"I don't know." He mutters heading to the small kitchen of your dorm to clean them.
"Why can't you just say yes or no?" Satoru asked following him into the dimly lite room. Suguru shrugged.
" I just don't think it matters either way, I mean we're all friends here aren't we? Weather I find her attractive or not doesn't make a difference."
Satoru smirks.
A knowing smirk, like he can somehow reach into the deepest parts of Sugurus mind and pull out the truth.
And what is the truth exactly? Not even Suguru is fully aware of that.
Yes he's your friend, and yes, you mean a lot to him. And yes, he'd be a liar if he said he didn't have a few dreams where he was doing filthy, nasty things to you.
But it wasn't even the sex dreams that scared him. It was dreams where you'd just kiss him. Where you'd just hugged him that scared him.
Because he could write off the sex dreams by saying he's just being a boy in his twenties desperate to fuck any and all pretty women.
But the sweet dreams?
Those created a ache in his chest he had been struggling to push down.
But he pushes it down anyways because god, he would hate to succumb to the age old stereotype of a boy secretly wanting to fuck his girl bestfriend.
He's better than that.
"You say that, but I think I know the truth." Satoru says as he slithers over closer to where Suguru is scrubbing dishes.
Suguru let's out a low chuckle.
"And what's that Satoru?"
"That you're in love with her." He says accusingly. Suguru almost drops the glass he was cleaning but he doesn't. Instead his body tenses and makes a slow turn towards Satoru.
As much as Suguru cared about his best friend, it didn't stop him from having moments like this.
Moments where he wanted to punch him in his perfect teeth.
"I am not in love with Y/n."
"And you're also not a good liar." Satoru pointed out, grabbing a green apple off the counter taking a large bite from it.
"No shame in it Suguru," He says in between bites. "I know you have this tortured, miss understood, bad boy thing going but, it's not a crime to want a girl." He pauses.
"Hell, I want her." He says his voice heavy with the same type longing that in Sugurus chest most days.
"But that's just it, I'm not in love with her." Suguru says. Satoru snorts out a laugh. "But Ill admit, I find her attractive and I do feel.. things..for her, less than friendly things." Suguru admits with a small shrug of his shoulders.
"So you just wanna fuck her?"
Something about the word 'fuck' in relation to you feels dirty. Like he's somehow disrespecting or defiling you with his thoughts, with his words.
You're a good person.
You're kind, caring.
You're not like the women he fucks or dates.
Because the women he messes with are more likely than not, cruel and selfish, because Suguru himself is cruel and selfish.
But not with you.
He could never be selfish with you.
"'Fucking' is a little crude no?" Suguru questioned setting the dish down and turning towards Satoru fully.
"What if I wanted to make love to her?" Suguru asked crossing his arms over his chest, almost laughing at his own question.
Satoru smirks placing a faux sympathetic hand on Sugurus shoulder.
"You and I both know you're incapable of making love," He pauses. " I don't think either of us are capable of that. That slow passionate shit."
Satoru pauses once more, but this time he looks to be pondering something, like he's playing around with some idea in his head.
"But maybe if it were her, I could..fuck her like I loved her. Because I do love her." Satoru says no hint of sarcasm or joking in his tone.
Suguru is surprised hearing him admit that.
The life they live is not one meant for those eager to find love. It's painful and hard. And often times lonely.
So if Satoru can find a pleasant emotion like love in you then that's great. Suguru is proud almost.
But despite what he said.
Despite what he wants Toru' to believe.
A part of Suguru still aches for you, and that same part of him resents Toru' for saying he loves you.
He’s not proud of that. He doesn't like feeling that way to towards his best friend, but he's a man at the end of the day.
And men are nothing if not territorial. So yes, he can be happy for Toru' while still wanting to cut his dick off for saying it.
"By the way." Satoru says pulling him from his thoughts.
"If you're not that into her that makes her free game right?" Satoru asks, his features honest. 
He's not being disingenuous or conniving, he genuinely wants to know if its okay.
And Suguru isn't sure it is.
Excluding his own feelings he's not sure if it's even a remotely good idea for either of them to get involved with you.
"No matter what we may or may not feel for her we both should agree that our lives are too hectic for someone like her." Suguru starts.
"Firstly, she's a first generation sorcerer in a line of people who have never even heard what jujutsu is and we're... us...We can't involve her in the bullshit that comes with our clans and our lives. Not on that level." Suguru says pointedly, honestly.
Satoru makes a face of sadness mixed with understanding.
In another world Suguru would have liked be normal, he thinks.
The saying 'knowledge is power' is true until knowledge becomes a burden. He wonders how much happier, how much less miserable,  he'd be if he were born in a different lifetime.
One in which he was born into a normal family, with a normal life and had normal problems and relationships.
He longs for that version of himself that only has to worry about getting a degree, not having to learn to live with the blood that soaks his hands.
He'd give anything for that kind of normalcy.
But the universe gave neither him nor Satoru normal and despite how unfair that is, it's reality.
Satoru nods seemingly understanding and little disappointed.
"Then we both have to swear. No making moves on her. For her sake and each other's. I don't want any awkwardness between us because of Y/n. Deal?" Satoru says holding his hand out, a little somberly.
Suguru can tell he doesn't wanna do this but knows it's for the best.
He gets it because if Satoru likes you half as much as he does, he understands the pain.
The ache.
"Deal." Suguru agrees completing the tight handshake.
"How hard could it be right? It's just one girl in a world of billions of them." Toru’ pointed out with a devil may care shrug.
"Yeah, it's just one girl." Suguru agrees.
"Guys?" A voice interrupts. Both boys look towards the origin of the sound and find you rubbing your eyes.
"What the hell are you two doing?" You asked sleepily, adorablely.
"We’re just straightening up." Satoru says to you before turning his head back towards Suguru.
Just a girl..    sure.
----------------------------------------------------------
9 months later.
People say empty sex is meant for equally empty people, because how can you fuck someone, touch someone like that, and feel nothing after?
But Suguru disagrees.
He thinks empty sex is where people with too many feelings put them.
It's therapeutic he thinks, at least it's the closest thing to therapy he can get because he's never been to therapy and never will go. So fucking his problems away is the next best thing.
He's good at it too.
He goes to a club or bar, finds a girl he's into, charms her with his dark, misunderstood, play boy persona and gets her to spread her legs for him.
It's so fun to do it.
It's so exciting to charm a girl then have her on her knees for you, worshiping your body like it's her god.
He's kinda picky with what girls he picks though.
He wasn't always like that. He used to fuck any pretty girl that came his way and steered clear of the 'good girl' types.
It used to be so fun fucking brats. But the mean girls just isn't what gets him going anymore.
Because now.
Now he likes the quiet types. The one in the friend group with their eyes down cast. The ones with their arms covering their exposed body, in an outfit their friends more likely than not, made them wear.
He likes taking shy girls back to his place, being slow and gentle at first before he starts corrupting them more as the night goes on.
He likes to change them.
Turn em' into sex hungry whores.
He likes it hard and fast.
He hates hand jobs.
He loves reverse cowgirl.
And despite it’s popularity, he hates 69ing. It’s more work than it's worth.
But more than anything he loves pushing a girls faces into the mattress while fucking them from behind like a dog.
He likes how dirty he is, he likes making good girls dirty. He loves fucking like there's no tomorrow, like there's no consequences.
It's fucking exhilarating.
Until it isn't.
Turns out months on months of empty sex isn't good for you. It's quite the opposite actually. It's gets repeaditve and old.
Meeting, talking, charming, kissing, fucking, cumming.
Talking, charming, kissing, fucking, cumming.
Charming, kissing, fucking, cumming.
Kissing, fucking, cumming.
Kissing, fucking, cumming.
Kissing fucking cumming.
Fucking
Cumming
Fucking
Cumming
Fucking
....
Not cumming.
"Shit! I'm gonna- oh fuck Geto yes!" Yuri moaned under him her head thrown back in pleasure she didn't know her body could experience. He felt it too. The moment she let go, he can feel the evidence of her orgasm pulsing around him.
And this would be great actually if it wasn't for the fact he wasn't nearly done.
Yuri was a girl that Suguru had been fucking for a while. She's good he can admit that.
But he'd be a liar if he said he didn't want her because she reminded him of something, of someone.
You.
Her chest heaved as she pulled Suguru down for a hot open mouth kiss.
"Did you cum?" She asked in a sultry tone.
"Y-yeah." He answered. He's lying.
Why the fuck is he lying?
Suguru doesn't care about feelings especially not hers, if he asked shed blow him or jerk him off but for some odd stupid fucking reason he doesn't want that.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
He doesn't let her know about the mental dilemma going on in his head, he just pulls out and turns his back to her, shucking his pants back on.
"When will I see you again?" She asks wrapping her body over his, her perky breasts pressing into his hard back.
"Soon." He answers, she whispered an 'okay' into the skin of his shoulder before kissing his neck before running to the bathroom to shower or pee. Or both.
Suguru however, puts the rest of his clothes on and makes his way home the same way he always does after a one night stand or a 'sneaky link', as Satoru so eleganly puts it.
He doesn't stick around to cuddle or to bask in that orgasmic after glow. Instead he simply heads home feeling light and released after cumming.
But he didn't cum, not this time anyway.
And not for the last 3 hook ups he's had. It's not the women, their beautiful, amazing in bed and all around any guys fuck fantasy but he can't do it.
He can't get there with them, nowadays he can only cum by his own touch...by his own thoughts..
He pulls up to the school well past curfew, locking his car door and heading up the stairs of the jujutsu tec dorms whistling to himself as he does.
His hair is a mess from Yuri tugging on it like she did.
And despite how much he loved his hair he hated when it was in his face.
He grumbled to himself redoing his bun making his way to his dorm, his cock still aching for release,
he'll deal with it once he's at his room.
He's not sure what's keeping him from a normal sex life recently, it can't be a hormone issue cause he can cum just fine on his own.
Maybe he's just a narcissist that can only cum by jacking himself off.
If that were the answer it'd honestly be a little funny and maybe a little sad but he knew that wasn't the case.
It was feelings.
It was longing.
It was you.
His cock gave an excited throb at the thought of you. That'll do it.
He absentmindedly palmed his erection as he entered his dorm.
He's not wasting any time, he haphazardly throws his phone somewhere before climbing into bed.
He feels childish when he beats off like this. Horny like a thirteen year old boy, and guilty like a catholic priest.
The guilt doesn't stop him though, it just feels like a loser because the only woman he wants to cum for, he can't have.
"Fuck," He muttered his fist tight and hard around his shaft as he jerked it fast and rough. His teeth catch his lip as he fucks himself. And his mind flashes with images of you.
Your face, your ass, your tits, that smile fuck, that smile. There's nothing he desired more than to see you happy.
You were so kind, your big doe eyes carrying so much innocence in them.
One of his less than tasteful thoughts he's had about you is cumming on your face. It's hotter than the thought of cumming down your throat he thinks. Because it's like he's painting himself over you.
Claiming you.
"Fuck." He whined to himself his hips stuttering, shooting pent up cum on his chest and bed. His chest is heavy and tired once he's done.
It feels so good.
"Phew." He breaths soaking in that after orgasm glow.
It feels so good to cum thinking about what you really want.
So good.
That is until the high ends and you realize you just jizzed on yourself thinking about a girl who you aren't allowed to have.
He cleans the evidence of his sin off his chest, lying down on his bed and letting the tiredness of the day finally catch up to him.
He's grateful to be sleepy because the sleepiness numbs the ache in his chest. It's the same ache he feels every time he cums thinking of you.
And it hurts like hell.
----------------------------------------------------------
October, 7th- 6 hours until inauguration
Todays the day.
Curses are attracted to those most vulnerable.
You learned that lesson pretty early on.
You were six when you saw a curse for the first time. It resembled a glob of jello mixed with what you'd imagine a devil looked like.
It put a fear in you, you still remember to this day. And you remember running to your mother, screaming to her about the evil monster in your room.
And when she checked. There was obviously nothing there, to her anyways.
But it was there to you.
You spent a lot of your teen years in and out of psych wards, on and off medication all to suppress or stop whatever was wrong with you.
You thought for a lot of your life that this ability you had was a curse that followed you.
A cosmic punishment of some sort that ruined any sense of normalcy you could have. That was until you met Yaga. And he showed you that these abilities you had weren't psychosis or a some hex put on your family 100 years ago. But something that made you special.
And if nurtured the right way, something that made you strong too.
That's why this day is so important, so necessary.
It's the day you swear your allegiance as a sorcerer for the good of man kind for the rest of your life. Everyone else did it.
Satoru, Shoko, Suguru.
They all at some point swore themselves to the cause and now it was your turn.
"Okay, okay. I got this." You whisper to yourself.
"Jesus, you look so nervous you're making me nervous." Satoru said lounging irritatingly comfortably on your couch . You sighed deeply turning towards the white haired boy.
"How do I look?" You question.
"Perfect, but you wear the same uniform everyday so..." He says with a chuckle. You sigh exasperatedly.
"But today is not just any day. Everybody that's anybody in the jujustu world is going to be here tonight. All the most import clans too. I need to be prepared." You say. He nods sitting up from the couch.
"I am the one and only member of the Gojo clan and you're not worried around me." He points out.
"Yeah but that's cause you're.. you." You say, he groans dramatically, holding his chest in pretend pain.
"Am I..am I not cool to you anymore?" He asks planting a faux hurt expression on his face.
"That would stand to reason she ever thought you were cool." Shoko said joining the two of you in your dorm. Satoru let's out a childish groan.
"Bitch." He mutters.
"I heard that! Also let's go, if Y/n's late that won't look good." Shoko says,
"Right." You  grab your bag from the floor. "Let's go." You say following behind Shoko.
"Oi." Toru' called after you, tugging you towards him by your pinky.
"Toru', I have to go." You almost whine like a child.
"I know, I know, but from where I'm standing you look damn near ready to shit yourself." He points out.
You chuckle because he's so fucking right.
"Don't be nervous because of all those jujustu fat cats out there. Be calm, be cool, you'll be fine." He says.
"Plus nobody can give you trouble because you're friends with me. And I'm Satoru fucking Gojo. So don't be scared." He says searching your eyes, hoping you believe him and you do.
You nod.
Satoru isn't good with his words. He sometimes says the wrong thing, at the wrong time and ends up upsetting the person he's trying to comfort.
But when he's right, he's right you'll give him that.
"Thank you Satoru." You say, he smiles all big and adjusts your necklace. And when he's done, he looks down in your eyes.
Even though his are covered by dark shades, you can feel them on yours.
His eyebrows furrow a little grazing your cheek with his index finger.
"Today's a big day, and no matter what happens. Winning, losing, I'm proud of you. Do you understand?" He asks honestly.
"I understand." You say. He nods licking his dry lips.
He looks as if there's something heavy on his chest. Something he's almost dying to say that he can't for whatever reason.
You can see when he puts that wall back up between the two of you. Shoving down whatever thought was building up in his mind.
"Alrighty then, lets go!" He says excitedly, practically pushing you out of the dorm as if whatever just happened between the two of you didn't.
You shake it off though.
It's only in your head.
"There you two are." Suguru said as you and Satoru head to the field where everyone else was gathered. "I was scared you'd be late."
"You think so low of us Suguru." Toru' said.
"If the shoe fits." He says back, you smiled shaking your head at their banter turning your attention to Yaga who was entering the stage.
Said stage was lined with a few of, but not all of the jujutsu elites that would be attending tonights inauguration.
No pressure.
"Good afternoon. Theres a lot up and coming that we need to go over so ill make it quick." Yaga starts.
"Our trip to Toyko is still on and everyone needs to be prepared to leave the 28th of July as we are all aware." Yaga said.
Satoru released an obnoxiously loud yawn Yaga chose to ignore.
"We already know all this why the play by play?" Satoru questioned quietly . Shoko laughed.
"Maybe it's so idiots like you don't forget." She teases earning a tongue stuck out at her.
You chuckle.
"And in more recent news, Y/n's ceremony as an up and coming jujustu sorcerer is tonight, and as tradition she will do the maids honor ceremony." Yaga says.
Your eyebrows furrow.
"Maids honor ceremony?" You questioned to Shoko.
"It's the ceremony where one man of an extremely important clan, like the Zenins for example, present you to the rest of the clans to 'honor' you."  She explains with air quotes on the word honor.
"Did Guru' and Satoru do their ceremony like this?" You questioned in a hushed tone. She shook her head.
"Nope." She says bitterly, with a loud popping of the 'p' sound.
"They only did it with me. Wanna guess why?" Shoko said giving a glare towards Yaga.
It was no secret the world of jujutsu was misogynistic and filled to the brim with entitled men with god complexes, but you never assumed Yaga of all people would make you do something like this.
You weren't fully aware you even raised your hand up high until Yaga stopped mid sentence, turning his attention to you along with the other elders.
What were you doing?
Oh god this is a bad idea.
"Uh, yes Y/n?"
"Why is it I have to do this exactly? Satoru and Suguru didn't." You pointed out.
Yaga sighed.
"It's tradition."
"It's a shit tradition." Satoru says with a shrug.
"It's true though. We didn't have to do it with a female escort so why is it Y/n or other women need a male one?" Suguru questioned.
"I mean what century is this?" Satoru question with a humorousless chuckle.
"Guys I got this." You say to them turning your attention back towards Yaga.
"All do respect sir, I understand the importance of tradition but..this feels wrong. I'm more than capable of presenting myself to the clans on my own." You say confidently.
"I wouldn't push this." Yaga says.
"Well maybe this needs to be pushed. I mean Shoko had to do this too. Shouldn't we be independent in this? I mean if we let this happen what does that say about us as women and as sorcerers?" You question stubbornly.
"Maybe women of today could stand to return back to their roots of respectably and femininety a little." Yoshinobu says.
"And what the hell does that mean?"
"It means you women of today open your mouths too much, always expressing radical opinions when you should just stay quiet and allow things to be as they are." He says. "Why don't you consider that miss L/n?"
You didn't have anger issues.
You swear you didn't, but sometimes, sometimes people just brought it out of you.
You laugh dryly.
"And why don't you worry about planning your upcoming funeral you old fu-" You say starting to move towards him, only to have Suguru wrap a strong arm across your waist stopping you.
"Easy girl." He says in your ear. You let out a shuddered breath.
"Don't let them see you all uptight. Seem unbothered. Not caring gets them heated." Satoru whispers in your other ear. You release another strained breath.
Their right and you know it. Letting your anger take control will do you no favors. It'll just screw you over more.
"Is there an issue?" Yoshinobu asks. You give him a tightsmile.
"No sir." You say. He smiles in triumph.
You wanna gag.
"Alright then, you have until tonight to find a partner you will allow to present you for the inauguration. This meeting is ajurned." Yaga says.
You sigh loudly.
"Fucking hell.."
—————————————————————————
3 hours until inauguration
You were still pouting about it hours later. Lying on your bed like a limp corpse, as if it were the end of the world.
Suguru was trying to lift your spirits in any way he knew how, but couldn't seem to make you feel any better about the situation.
You hate to feel so defeated but it's hard not to when you know you're right and they're wrong.
But to win the game you have to play it, no matter how fucked up the rules are.
Doesn't make it suck any less though. And it really sucks....
"Great newssss!” Toru' says entering your dorm with a clasp of his hands. You all but spring to your feet in excitement.
"They changed their mind?? They'll let me do it on my own?!" You asked hopefully.
Toru' hated to be the one that snatched the hope from you but he had to be honest.
"Well, no..."
You visibly deflate. "But," he continued. "I found what type of incantation you're reciting, that should help you prepare a little." He says, you smile a little.
"You didn't bribe or threaten anyone did you?" Suguru questioned.
"No, I just asked like the gentlemen I am." He said,
"Okay what is it?" You question.
"A dance spell." He answers. You deflate once more.
"I'm sorry?" You ask.
"Also I feel like I should mention that the person who 'presents' you will also be your dance partner so..." He says hoping you don't take the news the way he knows you will.
You look at Suguru as if he can somehow save you from your impending embarrassment. But he just shrugs and you almost start whining like a child.
"Great so not only do I have to be 'presented' to the clan leaders like a show dog, I also have to dance? This is ridiculous." You groan.
"If it makes you feel better all sorcerers with your type of curse energy do the same thing at their inauguration." Suguru tries to soothe.
"Doesn't make it any less embarrassing." You pout. Suguru sits next to you on the bed.
"Think of it as an incantation more than it is a dance. It's a complicated spell despite it being for something as mundane as dancing. But the purpose of it is to see how you quickly you can grasp a complicated spell for something no matter the gravity of the situation."  Suguru explains.
A small part of you feels at ease. You're happy that at least this isn't a gender thing. It's just a cursed speaker thing.
"Okay, how much time do I have to learn it?"
"For sorcerers like yourself they'll give you the incantation at the ceromoney." Toru' says.
"At the ceromoney?" You question, Satoru nods. "But what if I don't know how to pronounce the words? How many chances do I get in case I don't get it on the first try?"
"Y/n, this only works if you trust yourself. You're ready, you need to believe you're ready." Suguru says.
You nod somberly.
"Why are you pouting still?" Satoru asked kneeling down in front of you. You shrug.
You feel like a child in this moment. An absolute cry baby child but you have to be honest with them.
"If I'm being honest, doing this whole thing with a guy I might not know isn't an exciting feeling. It feels almost wrong to do this with just anyone." You explain.
You don't notice Suguru and Satoru eye each other.
There's a mutual understanding between them that in this moment that you need them. Maybe not both of them but know what they have to do.
They both silently agree with their eyes, to a brief pause on their, 'Don't involve her in our bs rule'
One of them needs to step up.
Satoru's mouth opens but Suguru beats him too it.
"I can do it." Suguru speaks up. You miss how Satorus face falls when Suguru offers.
"You don't have to." You say with a shake of your head.
"No I want to, I know how you are with strangers. I won't let you do this with some old weirdo. I'm also quite the dancer." He said with a chuckle. "Unless you don't want me to of course." He says honestly.
You don't say anything, you just wrap your arms around his neck the best you can with his height. He meets you half way wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Thank you." You say.
"Of course." He whispers into your ear.
—————————————————————————
2 hours until inauguration.
Satoru Gojo has anger issues.
He's been told that before....
When he was a child he used to break things around him when he was frustrated. When he was in his early teens he used to yell and curse like a mad man at whatever or whoever got him mad enough.
But he's older now, and he's gotten control of that anger that boils under his skin at every waking moment.
The anger that follows him like a lion that stalks a antelope. Waiting for just the right moment to consume him.
Waiting to turn him into something he can't recognize anymore.
He's gotten better though. A lot better.
He's not perfect. He still doesn't know how to deal with feelings. Not like normal people anyway. But he was never normal.
Overtime he realized that his explosive tendencies were nothing if not hindrances on his relationships, and on his overall well-being.
So like many excessively angry teens do, he found a way to cope. 
He learned a while back that when his feelings become too much for him to handle he can simply suppress them.
It's what he did for you.
He first realized he was in love with you the night he had a break down.
He didn't remember what it was about. He doesn't remember what was said or much of what was done. It felt like a hazy dream just slightly more vivid.
He remembers  you though.
He remembers how he felt.
He remembers feeling worthless and unloveable. Like a black hole that destroyed any chance of love or happiness in his life.
He cried a lot that night. His tears splashing against his hands as they lied in his lap.
He remembers you wrapping your arms around him telling him it would be okay. Your touch was like a silk blanket being draped over his tired shoulders. A touch that said more than words ever could.
A touch that told him 'you don't have to be anything other than just you.'
You were always like that. You never expected anything from him.
You knew he was rich, attractive and powerful but that never seemed to faze you.
Most people in his life would want nothing to do with him if that all went away. Not you though.
If tomorrow he lost everything that ever made him appealing to the general public, he'd be okay because you'd still love him.
Maybe not the way he wanted you to.
Ached for you to. ..
But it was love from you.
And that was enough for him.
However two things can exist at once. He can be satisfied by your relationship dynamic. He can be okay with not getting anything further from you.
But God.
Him having to watch as Suguru dances with you in front of the whole school well.. it sucks.
He's been doing better with his anger. He's been getting better.
But this would tick any man off.
That's how he ended up here. Less than two hours until the inauguration, he thought it was only smart if he blew off some steam before your big night.
He couldn't, no, he wouldn't ruin your night with a sour attitude. So this old punching bag in the jujutsu tec training room was going to have to deal with these emotions.
Hard punch after hard punch.
It felt so good.
"You punch that bag any harder you might break it." Suguru said joining Satoru in the training room.
"It's fine." Satoru insists punching the bag once again extra hard. The chain does in fact break and it falls to his feet making a loud almost startling thumping sound when it hits impact.
"Told you so." Suguru teased but Satoru didn't respond in kind. Hell he didn't even give him a pity chuckle.
"What's with you?" Suguru questioned.
"Nothings with me."
"Bullshit." Suguru says. "Is this about Y/n? About the dance?" Suguru asked,
"No."
"Liar." Suguru accused. "What are you jealous?" Suguru joked with a small laugh, Satorus silence spoke louder than anything he could have said.
Sugurus eyebrows furrowed.
"Are you?" He asks seriously this time.
"Who cares if I am? You'll get to dance with her in front of the whole fucking clan anyway. Just be grateful and move on." Satoru said no playfulness in his tone.
"Youre acting like I'm gonna take her on the floor in front of everyone or some shit."
"Oh I bet you wish you could." Satoru said with a small strained chuckle as he rips his boxing gloves off.
Satoru wasn't being fair. He was being childish because obviously Suguru wouldn't do that. He's not some sadistic asshole that would purposefully hurt his best friend.
He's sacrificed a lot in the name of keeping that stupid deal they made all those months ago. And it's been affecting him so much he can't even fuck anyone anymore. So no, he's not a bad person for being a little selfish this once.
He deserves this at least.
"Whatever." Suguru said dropping his arms to his sides and heading to the door. "I don't need this shit."
"Does she know?" Satoru called out.
"Know what?"
"How you feel?" He asks.
"She doesn't. And I'd like to keep it that way."
"You know what's fucked? You don't even give a damn about her like I do. You just want her to spread her legs for you so you can fuck her like she's one of your whores. She's not a fucking booty call." Satoru said back.
"Since when are you the moral dictator between us? You have more casual sex than me. Also. Don't forget I was the one that said we should leave her out of our mess." Suguru reminded him.
"That's true. But did you do that for her or for you?" Satoru questions walking right up to Suguru getting in his face.
"Or did you do it because you can't say you love her but you also can't let someone else have her? Because you can't let me have her?" He asked.
Suguru said nothing he just watched Satoru as his head tilted to the side waiting for an answer Suguru doesn't have.
So he doesn't speak.
"I know it's just a dance." Satoru starts.
"And I know it's stupid but, forgive me if I'm little bothered about the fact that my best friend is going to get to show off the girl I love. I'm not mad, and I don't hate you. I know it's petty, just let me be petty Suguru." He says poking a firm finger into his chest. Suguru nods.
He gets it.
Satoru doesn't know how he feels about you. How you flood his mind like the rain floods rivers and lakes. He wants you so bad.
But so does Satoru.
"That's fair." Suguru says finally. Satoru nods and wordlessly leaves the gym.
He'd get over this little disagreement soon enough.
But Suguru couldn't think about that right now. Right now he needed to focus on you and only y-.
His phone dings before he can even finish the thought. When he pulls it out. He sees it's a text from Yuri.
Y- We need to talk. Meet me outside of your school.
Sugurus eyebrows furrowed.
S- I'm in the middle of something, is it an emergency?
Y- Yes. Hurry please.
It was 7:20 pm, your inauguration was at 9:00. He could handle this emergency then come straight back.
Yeah it's fine, he has time. He pulled his phone out once more typing a simple phrase.
On my way.
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frownyalfred · 2 months
Note
If this too much or too personal please ignore!
But I was just wondering if you had any advice for grieving? (I lost a close family member very recently)
I'm so sorry for your loss, anon. I don't know your exact situation, but I hope your loved one's memory is a blessing to you and your family. I'll leave my thoughts below the break, since I'll discuss death and dying a little.
I am, as many people on here likely know, still grieving the loss of my father. It was sudden and unexpected. It was bloody and somewhat traumatic for our family. Thinking about it still leaves me dazed and unfocused.
Grieving is such a strange process. I've been talking about it with my therapist weekly, and her main takeaway has been that there is no right way to do it -- and that it is far from linear. There are positive moments and regressions. There are funny memories and difficult truths to grapple with. There is anger, confusion, sadness. Despair. So many unanswered questions and moments that hover on the edge of veneration simply because they are the only ones you have left.
How did I grieve? I cried a lot, at first. I took off work and sat shiva with my family. I answered a thousand well-meaning messages and played one singular song on repeat on my phone. I barely slept. I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed. I woke up crying without remembering exactly what I had been dreaming about.
Then, as if in reprieve, my brain let up. I slept somewhat normally again. My body was no longer on the edge of tears at any given moment, nor was I entirely numb. Slowly, I began to think of normal things again; new television shows, updating a chapter, irritation at the banal things like traffic and work.
And anon, I thought to myself, this must be it. I'm no longer "grieving," or at least not in the traditional sense of the word. I was eating, sleeping, going to the gym and work, updating my works and hitting the club again on the weekends.
But I wasn't done. And I'm not sure I ever will be. I wanted to be done, in so many ways. I was mad at my father for dying, for making me grieve, for keeping me in this state where I couldn't be confident in anything I was feeling, any progress I was making. Where I could remain silent and resolute at his burial, but sob like a baby in my apartment when the concert t-shirt he gave me was stained by some soup.
But that's a lot to put on the dead. And sometimes I have to keep reminding myself that -- that he is dead, that there is a gap in my life I keep trying to skip over, like avoiding tonguing at the aching tooth in the back of my mouth. And when I forget, the world is more than glad to remind me, whether through well-meaning neighbors, colleagues, etc etc.
I suppose that's a long way of saying, I think I'm still grieving anon. I'm not sure I'm doing the best at it, active or involuntary as this process seems to be. I have an amazing support network, but so much of this work seems to be solitary, even when someone is sitting right next to you, crying with you.
The Jewish saying "May their memory be a blessing" has been a good focal point for me, I think. It dovetails nicely with the Mandalorian saying "Not gone, merely marching far away." I've thought about both a lot in the last few months, because I'm a huge nerd and also because I don't think the cultures are too dissimilar.
Let your loved one's memory be a blessing in your life, anon. Remember the happy moments, and speak them out loud if you're able. Don't let their name remain sacred. Don't sanctify them, for we are all humans and humans are complicated, but don't leave their life behind you.
Those memories of them, those funny moments and sad days, fun trips and strange conflicts, those are all yours now. No one else has them. And when you and your family are gone, those memories are gone too.
Other small things that have made this whole process easier: Starbucks and DoorDash giftcards (seriously, some days are too hard), letting myself take time off hobbies (gym/writing) without penalizing myself, naming my grief and allowing myself to sit in it (I'm sad today about x, and I want to lie down for a few hours. I'm lying down because I'm feeling sad about x, and I'm allowed to feel that way). Going to the gym and running until the natural endorphins help. Talking with my families about good and complicated moments with my dad. Writing, when I'm able. Reminding myself it's okay to not be very functional, that it's okay to not be perfect and you would never expect someone who is grieving to be so. Talking to a therapist and getting treatment for what I experienced. Accepting the kind words of others, even if they hurt or are unintentionally difficult.
I'm sorry you're going through this anon. I know how you feel, or at least some of what you feel. I hope you have support and loved ones around you who can help shoulder some of this process.
<3 Jay
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taytjiefourie · 1 year
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Dialogue prompt: Sadness.
Hey there! It's time for our weekly dialogue prompt list, and I'm excited to share it with you after our last post on 'Show Don't Tell: Sadness'.
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"I lost everything in the war. My family, my home, my hope. What could you ever offer to make it right?"
"Our kingdom is in ruins, our people starve to death daily and there is nothing we can do to help them."
"I always hear the cries of the innocent. It keeps my heart broken."
"You left me."
"She ran me through with a blade and a smile. I used to think she loved me."
"I saw too much. Too much death, too much destruction... too much wrong."
"They took the only meaning of my life and killed him before my very eyes."
"I only see the never-ending darkness in this world. There is no light."
"I cry rarely, but when I do, I feel like I drown in my own tears."
"I long for a home that was turned to ashes."
"She betrayed me. How am I meant to trust her with this?"
"I failed."
"The fault clearly lies with me."
"I'm sorry."
"The world's beauty fades with each passing day."
"I took you for granted. That was my mistake."
"I do not deserve your kindness."
"I buried him with my family. We may not have shared blood, but he was still my brother."
"I promised that I would. How could you stop me?"
"I burnt down their kingdom. They have a right to want me dead."
"The world I used to know is gone, replaced by a barren wasteland."
"The government stripped us of our freedom and our humanity."
"Every day feels like a fight for survival in a world that lost all hope."
"I can't bear the weight of this shattered reality we created for ourselves."
"The loss of my loved ones is a pain that never fades."
"The constant fear of being discovered and punished for our beliefs is suffocating."
"I miss the simple things, like fresh air and the warm sun on my skin."
"The scarcity of resources turned us against each other. It tore apart any sense of community and trust."
"The memories of the past are being replaced by a bleak and desolate present."
"The surveillance and lack of privacy is a reminder of the dystopian nightmare we found ourselves in."
"The thought of a better life feels like a dream."
"The destruction of our natural world is a reminder of the price we pay for our greed and selfishness."
"They took our history, our culture, our identity."
"The constant struggle to survive has left us with no time for anything else, including hope."
"The realization that we created this world ourselves is a heavy burden to carry."
"The thought of what could have been, what should have been, is a bitter pill to swallow."
"We may never know true freedom. We know this."
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maya-tl · 1 month
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Gentle Surgery got me on a chokehold ngl. Maybe Spy goes to check on Medic after he's been staying in his lab and it's past 3 am and he hasn't been seen all day.
Anyway love your works and I hope you have a good day~
The first thing Spy noticed upon walking into the dining room for breakfast—fashionably late, of course—was that Medic’s spot at the table was empty.
Scout was already trying to fight over the sausages with Soldier and possibly Sniper as well, who appeared to realise how completely outmatched he was but was still trying his hardest not to get stabbed by a stray fork. Engineer was too busy stuffing eggs into his mouth to chastise them for their table manners and everyone else was either half-asleep or actively snoring into their cereal bowls.
Spy wrinkled his nose in distaste and thumped Demoman on the back as he passed by, who spluttered and immediately started coughing up the milk he’d inhaled. Spy poured himself a steaming mug of coffee and took his seat next to Heavy, who was staring murderously at his burnt toast.
“Unpleasant morning?” Spy asked without looking, and Heavy grunted.
“Soldier patrolled last night,” he said by way of explanation, “Was loud. Did not sleep well.”
Spy hummed as he buttered his own untoasted bread and decided against making a snarky remark on how he wouldn’t have known that, since his own room was soundproof. At least it explained why everyone looked dead on their feet, and quite possibly Medic’s absence, though Spy couldn’t know for sure until he asked; Medic was usually quite punctual, in spite of the fact that he liked to spend his nights working away on his experiments and got little to no sleep.
Spy had casually questioned him about his sleeping schedule once and Medic had simply shrugged and said that there were things to be done and breakthroughs to be had, which were statistically more likely to happen during the night. When Spy had raised an eyebrow and asked him to elaborate on his sources, Medic had laughed in his face.
So Spy left Heavy to glower in peace and assumed the good doctor would show up for lunch. He ate his bread with butter and jam, added a pinch of sugar in his coffee and treated himself to a vanilla brioche from his secret stash. He made a mental reminder to bring his sapper to Engineer’s workshop later as he washed his plate and nodded to his teammates on his way out, ignoring Scout struggling to get out of the headlock Soldier had him in.
Since there were no battles scheduled that day, everyone went about relaxing in their own way, which for Spy included barricading himself in his smoking room with a good book and a fine wine. The hours passed swiftly, and Spy eventually opened the windows to air out the room and made his way to lunch.
It was Pyro’s turn on the stove, who could surprisingly cook up a storm when they weren’t messing with the settings in order to see how high the fire could burn. Spy didn’t recognise whatever they’d put on the table, but it did look appetising enough and ended up tasting delicious, if a bit too spicy for his taste.
He did notice halfway through the meal that Medic still hadn’t shown up and stated as much to Heavy, who frowned at the empty chair. He speculated that Medic might be working on something and reluctantly agreed to bring a tray of leftovers to the infirmary afterwards—Medic didn’t tolerate interruptions very well, even if they were well-intentioned.
Spy had pushed aside his concerns and decided to trust that Heavy wouldn’t let Medic starve. Everyone knew how well they got along and how much Heavy fretted over his teammates’ wellbeing—a leftover habit from looking after his sisters all his life, Spy knew.
So he ate his lunch and then went into town to help Engineer shop for weekly supplies. He himself had been planning on getting a new shoe polish and perhaps a new set of wine glasses. His old ones had dwindled in number over the last months due to his unfortunate decision to lend them to Demoman for game night, which had resulted in their being used to create what Scout had dubbed ‘the world’s shittiest champagne tower’ and ultimately shattering on impact when Soldier had drunkenly dived into them to take a ‘champagne bath’.
They hadn’t even used a decent brand of champagne for it. Needless to say Spy wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
By the time they returned and busied themselves with unloading the van, Spy had nearly forgotten about Medic’s suspicious absence. Heavy was nowhere to be seen, so Spy assumed that he’d gotten Medic to eat and decided to camp out in the infirmary for some peace and quiet, since someone was blasting the radio at full volume from somewhere inside the base. He’d picked up his sapper, thanked Engineer for his service, and returned to his smoking room to finish the book he’d started.
And then dinner came and Medic was still nowhere to be found.
“Door to infirmary was open,” Heavy said in-between bites of steak when Spy questioned him on whether he’d seen the doctor at all, “But door to lab was closed. Assumed doctor was busy, left tray with food on the table.”
Heavy had turned away to compliment Pyro on the mashed potatoes, and then Sniper had joined the conversation, and of course Scout had been chattering away the entire time, so the topic of Medic was soon dropped. Spy ate in silence, brow furrowed, and didn’t even react when the others had to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on Soldier because he choked on a bone.
He offered to wash the dishes simply to take his mind off things, even if Engineer did stare at him like he’d grown a second head and asked him to repeat himself, and ignored the background noise of the team making up some new card game to play before bed. The rushing water brought him little comfort and the sharp scent of the dish soap stuck to his suit, which only further soured his mood. When he was done he tossed away the gloves and marched back to his room without so much as waving goodnight to everyone still hanging around in the living room.
Instead of going to sleep he adjusted his tie, strapped on his cloaking watch and slipped into Medic’s room.
The curtains were drawn, casting the room in partial shade, but the lamp on the far desk was on, shining dimly. The floor was clean and the bed was made, though the closet had been left half-open and the air was stale, indicating that no one had opened any windows in quite some time. Spy knew Medic tidied up regularly, but this went beyond that—the room looked almost unlived in, and when Spy touched the lamp on the desk he found it burning to the touch.
Spy tapped his fingers on the desk, weighing his options, and eventually reached over and turned it off. The only possible explanation for the lamp being on was that Medic had gone back to his lab in the middle of the night and hadn’t returned yet, and he’d forgotten to turn off the light in the middle of the rush. The thought made Spy tap his fingers harder the longer he waited.
Heavy wasn’t a very skilled liar and knew better than to lie to him of all people besides, so Spy had to assume that he’d indeed taken food to the infirmary and left it there when Medic hadn’t come out to greet him. But had he gone to check if the food had been touched afterwards? Had he knocked on the doors to the lab or listened for any noise that might indicate Medic was inside? Had he even thought to check for Medic in his room? On the balcony? In the gun range?
Spy came back to himself only to realise the room had gone pitch black. He checked his watch.
It was fifteen minutes past 3 am.
He didn’t even stop to close the door on his way out. The halls were silent, meaning everyone else was either asleep of holed up in their rooms, with the notable exception of Engineer whom Spy could hear welding something together as he passed his workshop. The doves startled awake when Spy barged into the infirmary and started crooning at him in displeasure, and he had no choice but to pause for a few minutes to calm them down—he hadn’t spent months earning their trust only to give them something to hold a grudge against now.
That and Medic wouldn’t approve of him upsetting his darling birds just because he was in a hurry.
The tray of food was still on the desk and completely untouched, as Spy had predicted, and the doors to the lab were not only closed, but locked from the inside. Good thing Spy was, among many other things, an expert at picking locks.
He had to shield his eyes from the fluorescent lights inside, but once his eyes got used to them he noticed that the room was more of a mess than usual. There were tools and papers scattered everywhere, drawers and cabinets left open, muddled jars of questionable contents and airtight containers that were usually carefully arranged on the shelves now in disarray. Spy stepped over a blueprint that had definitely been borrowed from Engineer and nearly slipped on a page that had likely been ripped from an old medical journal.
There was a flutter of wings next to his ear and a small weight landed on his shoulder. Spy huffed a private little laugh.
“Hello, Archimedes,” he said, reaching up to pet him before Archimedes could peck at his mask like he always did when Spy didn’t greet him right away. Archimedes crooned softly and leaned into his touch, then casually started grooming himself after Spy lowered his hand.
“Ah,” Spy said quietly as he rounded the operating table, “There he is.”
Medic was sitting next to one of the counters, gloves and coat tossed haphazardly at his feet, a stack of books by his left and a microscope to his right. His cheek was pressed against an open notebook, his glasses crooked, and he was snoring softly, fast asleep.
Spy came up to him and snapped his fingers next to his ear. When that garnered no reaction he grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him gently, then more forcefully, until Medic finally stirred. Spy watched him unstick his face from the paper and sluggishly push himself off the counter, then groan at the bright lights, pinching the bridge of his nose and further dislodging his glasses.
Spy, who had been quite prepared to deliver a scathing lecture, suddenly couldn’t muster up the vitriol.
“Busy night, doctor?” he said anyway, just to see how Medic would react.
Medic startled and squinted his way. Blinked a few times. Seemed to finally recognise that it was Spy standing in front of him, and also seemed baffled to see Archimedes staring back at him from his shoulder.
“Mhuh?” he said, eloquently.
Spy snorted, unable to stop himself. He reached out and rubbed his thumb over Medic’s cheekbone, trying very hard to ignore the way his heart fluttered when Medic, still drowsy, instinctively leaned into his touch.
“You have ink stains on your face,” Spy said.
“Mhm,” Medic replied, and instead of reaching up to wipe off said ink stains simply wrapped his hand around Spy’s wrist and leaned even further into his touch.
Spy sighed, but didn’t pull away. His questions could wait until the morning. “Come now, let’s get you to bed,” he said softly, “There will be time for your experiments another day.”
Medic grumbled something under his breath, already half-asleep again, but went willingly, letting Spy guide him around the clutter and leaning on him as they navigated the halls together. They left Archimedes with the other doves and made it to Medic’s room without incident, safe for them bumping into Engineer as he was leaving his workshop.
Engineer had nodded at Spy and Spy had nodded back, and that had been that, a silent agreement that this encounter had never happened.
Spy wiped the ink off Medic’s face with a wet handkerchief and carefully tucked him in, making sure to place his glasses safely on the nightstand. As he made to go something pulled him back down, and he saw Medic watching him through half-lidded eyes, his hand fisted into Spy’s suit jacket. Spy sighed, too tired to argue, shed his jacket and his shoes and his mask and elbowed Medic out of the way as he wiggled under the covers.
Medic pulled him in by the waist and murmured something into his hair, and Spy smiled against his skin when he made out the words.
“Danke, mein schatz.”
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stevetonyweekly · 5 months
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SteveTony Weekly - December 2nd
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Hey, y’all! Here’s what I read over the past two weeks. Enjoy and be sure to give your author a comment & kudos! 
~
immutable as gravity by Areiton 
There’s something about flying that he can’t explain.
There’s a freedom to it that he’s never felt, anywhere else, doing anything else.
It’s like inventing and the best first kiss of his life, like anything is possible, as he hovers between earth and space, and only the strength of his bird around him.
There’s other things in his life that have been better--but he can count them on one hand and still have fingers leftover.
it might just have been you by Areiton 
"You have the whole world in front of you, Tony," Steve says, slowly. "When you get off this boat, there's nothing to stop you from living the life you want. If that's as a mechanic with a nice Alpha--you can have that. Just because what you grew up with is trash, doesn't mean that all alphas are. You can still have exactly what you want."
Tony laughs, and it feels brittle, sharp, cutting at his throat as it spills between them. "There aren't nice Alphas, Captain. No one is nice enough to walk away from a billion dollar fortune for someone like me."
"I would," Steve says, and it feels like a confession, like something he doesn't mean to share, and all the more precious for it. 
It Takes a Village (or a team of superheroes) by aven_garde
Three months after the Chitauri attack, Tony received a phone call that changed his life. (Or, the one in which a group of remarkable people come together and balance battling villains and raising a child).
Harrowed Beginnings to a Familial Pack by Arminius461
Steve is the sweetest, gentlest alpha in existence, completely in control of his instincts. After a mission goes south, he's suddenly affected by an unknown substance, making his instincts rage. He needs to be with his omega and pup. The only problem is that Tony is out at Peter’s science fair, and Steve and Tony don’t have a pup of their own…
Baby, Just Say Yes by betheflame
In a world where Tony's life looks a lot like Taylor Swift's, Steve realizes there always more to omegas than meets the eye.
a fool for you by earliebirb 
“I keep telling you, you should tell him how you feel.”
“Stop talking nonsense. It’s against protocol,” Steve says, eyes once again staring longingly at Stark, who is listening attentively to whatever Potts is saying.
Bucky rolls his eyes. “As if Stark ever cared about that.”
Just when Bucky thinks that the conversation is dead, just like the million other times Steve has shut Bucky down whenever he attempts to talk some sense into his best friend, Steve says in a quiet voice:
“Besides… they’re engaged.”
rearrange my heart (to fit your smile) by starklystar
"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"
"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."
Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.
Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"
Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.
Humbugs and Heart by MountainRose 
Tony's hurt, and there's only one place Jarvis knows he'll be safe. At least they have met the man, or this would be exceedingly awkward.
(It's not awkward, Steve would never make this awkward.)
For AngeNoir as part of the 2015 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange. I hope you like it, ;)
There's A History Between Us (and people think it's mine) by IamShadow21
A moment is all it takes to open up the box and confirm his suspicion.
“I think you're right, Cap,” Tony says. “This isn't my area.”
don't dream it's over by robertdowneyjjr
Steve thought they were happy. That their relationship was going strong, and they had forever ahead of them.
But apparently Tony thought otherwise.
There he was, like double cherry pie by Wolfsheart
Five times Tony comes into the bakery to flirt with Steve, and the one time Steve goes to the garage to flirt with Tony.
love can do some damage by parkrstark
Steve knew he was different since he was a little boy growing up with Bucky, and girls didn't make him feel the same way they made Bucky feel. There were only two people who ever knew: Bucky and his ma. And he planned to keep it that way. "They'll throw us in jail. If we're lucky." 
Steve had heard horror stories of castration, life in jail, and even death. 
"They won't throw me in jail for murdering thousands, but they'll throw us in jail for kissing? Seems kinda backwards." Tony leaned in for another kiss, and God did Steve want it. "'Sides. I know the Sheriff. He wouldn't throw us in jail."
Last Stop Before Malibu by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday) 
Steve stands under the hot sun, hoping that the next trucker to roll in will bring him enough money to eat tonight, enough to save a little, to get out of this place and go somewhere new.
What he doesn't expect, is to meet a man who changes everything.
When Tony leaves, Steve follows and finds a place in his home, his bed, and maybe, his heart.
Nobody Panic, Everything's Fine by itsallAvengers
Steve doesn't get jealous. He doesn't. Honestly.
It's just...well- Tony's been spending an awful lot of time with a new employee. Who's smarter than him. And funnier. And more interesting and generally a better match for Tony than he ever would be.
But he's not jealous. Honestly.
Drawn to You by jellybeanforest
In a world where what one writes on one’s own skin appears on their soulmate’s body in exactly the same place until it’s washed off or fades, no one has ever responded to Steve’s questions written in pen.
Who are you?
Where are you?
And once, out of sheer desperation: Wer bist du?
He has tried writing up and down both arms then across his stomach in pictograms when he reckons that perhaps his soulmate is a double amputee and illiterate, but nothing. No response. He is uncertain why he is so surprised. Everything else about Steve is broken, so why not his soul?
But when he points the Valkyrie downwards to crash into the deep, knowing he is about to die, he spares a few precious seconds to scribble one last message to his possibly-nonexistent, potentially-blind soulmate.
Twenty-five years later, Tony Stark is born with a single phrase on his left forearm written in messy old-fashioned script. And as he grows up, the words never change:
“I love you”
It is both a blessing and a curse.
Remix of “the words written on our skin” by Cathalinaheart. For the 2020 Cap-IronMan Remix Madness.
Operation Spank Bank by fohatic
Tony really shouldn't be hacking into classified SHIELD files behind Steve's back. Steve is a SHIELD agent, now—as well as Tony's captain—and this sort of thing reflects badly on him. So why is there a locked file titled "Operation Spank Bank" on Tony's private OS? And why hasn't Steve been briefed about any such operation?
The file is password protected, but Steve has an eidetic memory and has seen Tony enter it, before -- it would serve Tony right if Steve were to 'hack the hacker' and learn for himself what "Operation Spank Bank" is all about...
There's an App for That by Annie D (scaramouche) 
Thanks to the modern gig economy, Steve is the successful owner of a break-up service, i.e. people pay him to break up with their partners for them. One day, he gets the first break-up request for Tony Stark.
(what is hate) but jilted love by LemonGrenade
After a messy mission, Tony winds up injured and unfit for duty. To keep the press and anyone else overly interested in the current post-Accords Avengers unaware, Tony elects to hide from the public eye at his cabin in the Canadian wilderness. His plan is simple: lay low and work on his projects until he's recovered enough to make it back.
And then Steve shows up.
with a decent happiness by torigates
Tony Stark is Iron Man. Steve Rogers isn't, and never was Captain America.
Or, the one where everything is the same except Steve is a kindergarten teacher.
Star-joined Lovers by Ellster
Decades apart two boys are born with identical stars on their chests. As they find each other, their marks come into color.
In Our Arms by tinystark616
Having a threesome with Mark 42 was Tony's idea. Of course, he enjoys watching Steve with the suit more than he thought he would.
your heart breaks in my chest by deathsweetqueen
Steve Rogers was never more happy the day that his soulmark came in, but it led to nothing but disappointment and shame when his soulmate ignored everything he scribbled across his arm; as the years went by, the reason became unmistakable: why would his soulmate want a weak, wretched little thing like him?
Tony Stark was born bitter cold, like he was made of hailstone, and when his soulmark carved itself across his pulse point, he realised why; so, what is his life worth, what could it ever be worth, when his soulmate is dead and he would never have been worthy of him had he been alive anyway?
Patriarch by spqr 
Steve ducks into the hall and comes back with a warm, freshly-laundered towel, which feels so good when he wraps it around Tony’s shoulders that he almost lets out a moan. “There we go,” Steve says. “Don’t want you to catch cold.”
“Thanks, daddy,” Tony quips, because he’s an idiot.
Except Steve’s close enough, his hands wrapped around Tony’s biceps through the towel, that Tony can feel his full-body shudder.
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thethirdromana · 11 months
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Wasn't Arthur originally a Viscount? With his father dead he'd now be an Earl/Count.
Anon you have caught me at either the best or the worst possible time, I am tipsier than normal for 6pm on a Wednesday (drinks after work event) (only needed to cycle home) (director paying) (mojito stronger than I expected) and so I am consulting fucking DEBRETT'S. For you.
They want me to sign up to their weekly newsletter. Debrett's, I thank you, but no.
The senior most rank of the British nobility is Duke. For example, the Duke of Denver, the older brother of Lord Peter Wimsey. Lord Henry could be the younger son of a duke but there are other options too.
Next up we have marquesses. Not many of those in British fiction for some reason, outside of Downton Abbey. Lord Henry could also be the younger son of a marquess ("lord" is a really vague title, it turns out).
Then earls. Fun fact, I vaguely knew a guy at university who was referred to as "the earl of [place]". I thought it was a joke because he was quite posh. I learned, sometime after graduation, that he literally was an earl. Which took me by surprise perhaps more than it should have done.
Earls are also addressed as "Lord [Whatever]" but you address letters to them as "the Earl of [Whatever]". The younger sons of earls are also called Lord [First Name], which is ridiculous but then so is this whole system. They also get the courtesy title of "The Honourable". That's only for younger sons though and there's some twaddle about secondary titles but life is too short.
Viscounts! As far as I can tell, this is probably what Arthur is - all sons and daughters of viscounts get "The Honourable" as a title and then the viscount is address as "Lord [Whatever]". I think this means that if Lord Henry is the younger son of a duke then he outranks Arthur full stop, and if he is the younger son of a marquess or an earl then he outranks Arthur until Arthur's dad dies.
And finally there are barons. Forms of address seem to be the same for viscounts and barons so I guess Arthur could be either, but Bram Stoker's notes have him as a viscount. Augustus Champnell could also be either, for the Beetleites among us.
I feel like I've written some of this before but couldn't find an earlier post. Anyway, please know that every time I have to remind myself of details of how this all works, I become slightly more radicalised. Did you know there are spaces in the British legislature right now, in 2023, that are reserved only for hereditary peers? Now you do.
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captainkirkk · 2 months
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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.
Miraculous Ladybug
Open My Eyes by buggachat
Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was.
(Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.)
(But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.)
“And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?”
(Adrien has some things to find out.)
DC
the good, the bad, and the power hungry by konan_konan
dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・8hr if one more person tweets about #superlex unironically im gonna end it all 391K Views | 200 Retweets | 13 Quote Tweets | 22.1K Likes
j-son of a bitch ☑ @jsntdd・8hr ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo hurr durr these are the consequences of ur actions bitch 201K Views | 109 Retweets | 4 Quote Tweets | 18.4K Likes
or: lex luthor makes bad choices. and then, so does everyone else.
call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu
Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.
This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.
Just a bank account, even.
how big, how blue, how beautiful by merils
Kon-El is not good with medical settings. One could even say he's quite bad with them. How bad, exactly?
Well, let's put it this way: Very few things in the world can make him scream for Superman to save him.
(Superman will save him. That's what family's for, right?)
Clone Wars
The Kenobi Chronicles by WobblyCat
General Kenobi isn't actually dead. Someone should really tell that to his troopers, though.
Or: The clones under General Kenobi's command have a groupchat dedicated to him. Cody wishes his subordinates weren't so fucking stupid.
SVSSS
Shen Yuan's Forced Shen Qingqiu Redemption Arc by SpicyReyes
The System's OOC function won't unlock all at once - instead, character traits have to be added individually, through quests. This leads to Shen Qingqiu having to jump through endless hoops just to complete enough side quests to unlock the ability to be a decent person - all while avoiding the effects it has on those around him. If only the cheapskate System wouldn't keep changing the cost of point values - he needs to know what the hell Yue Qingyuan told the others about him that makes them all look so sad when he does manage to be nice! He's breaking his back here, can't we just appreciate his work?!
second-hand alibis by nex_et_nox
"All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information.  "Who am I supposed to be?" Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders. Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh. [Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.]
or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?
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daphnedauphinoise · 1 year
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Daphne,
Please would you mind sharing your foot care routine, my winter feet are in a dire state
Xx
No problem :) I actually need to get back into this old routine. Here is the routine from my drafts:
1. Cutting your nails
I won't say I am a woman who get embarassed or can be embarrased but I don't think I can ever live down the humiliation of when I turned up to my podiatry appointment and my podratist took one look at my nails and say 'I think I will cut them for you'. She did explain to me that though I had cut them, I still left them too long and long toe nails is a bad foot practice but oh my god, never again! I know it sound wierd but there is a correct way to cut your toe-nails and it is straight across. Any fancy shapes might lead to ingrown nails and they are painful.
I find toenails to grow quite slowly so I cut my every two weeks but I tend to fully clean my toenails at least weekly. You should not be letting those black fuzz under your toenails grow. Letting your shower water run inbetwee you toes is not enough and you should be using soap and a nail brush whenever you shower to clean your feet.
2.Foot Soaks
Epsom salt
Vinegar
I try and do these foot soaks weekly as they are actually really good at relaxing you. I just get a bucket and put the same about of salt ratio as I do in pasta water and let my feet rest. You don't really need anything fancy as epsom salt works just fine, but it does have to be epsom salt. This is because epsom salt is a mixture of magneusim and sulfate so it will actually do something for you (relax your muscles and cramps etc). I also like to add one cup vinegar as well to my foot bath. Vinegar has anti-bacterial properties so adding this makes it hard for bacteria to grow on your feet.
3. Foot Exfoilation
Cheap face scrub
Pumic stone
Exfoilating foot mask
This is where we will get rid of the dead skin cells. There are two ways you can go around doing this: physical and chemical exfoliation.
I don't think you need to buy any designated foot srub because they all tend to work the same. Personally, I just buy the £2 St Ives face scrub but use it on my foot. After I have soaked my feet, I dry them just so they are damp and I scrub the hell out of my feet.
For chemical peels you can either use some sort of peeling acid or a exfoilaiting sheet mask. The common peeling acid that people use is the Ordinary acid one and I find to be good for the skin around your toenails.
I like using an exfoliating foot sheet mask as well but this is probably every 6 months at the earliest. A lot of these sheet masks get marked up and some sites and brands sell these for £20 and again, there is no need to pay this much. Your local saver beauty store or poundland/dollar tree should have them for around £1-£2 and that is the only amount anyone should be spending on these. Reminder, you really do not want to over-exfoliate your feet. Your feet is meant to have hard skin because it serves a purpose for your body and health.
4. Moisturising
I think you get the point by now but, you don't need anything fancy. I think of my massive tub of Vaseline as an equivalent to the Holy Trinity and I use that. At night, just before I am about to sleep I mix vaseline and a thicker moisturizer (body butter works amazing too) and I massage my feet with the mixture. Foot massages are actually very important for your overall health. Then, I pop on some fuzzy socks and I sleep.
5. Beautifying your feet
After you do all this your feet should look nice and pretty but if you want to take it a step further you can make sure your toe nails are nice too. I like taking off the hardened skined around my toe nails which one of the tools I mentioned in my nail routine post.
I would never suggest or encourage anyone to go get a pedicure so I myself, just do everything at home. For sanitaion reasons, I don't like using the same nail polish that I use on my hand nails on my toe nails and nail salons are just so so unhygenic.
I heard a feet pic seller once say (from an old magazine) that what earns her the most money is either a french manicure or soft pink nails. So that is what I do :)
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I am really going to emphasize this here, you don't need anything buy anything. Literally, everything you need to make your own foot routine, you can find in your home already. Should you want to buy anything, there is no need to spend anything more than £5 per product ( though you still wouldn't see me do this) and buy something you can use for many other things eg. vaseline.
If you have any concerns regarding your feet, do go to a podraitist as they can help. Make sure you are always wearing comfortable shoes and that you are walking properly.
Anyway love,
Daphne xoxo
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landwriter · 1 year
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✨️🌹 or x20 ✨️ your pick
Love your writing! And I hope you are doing okay!
Hob loves the way language changes.
He loves how words are picked up and passed along from one group to another, like a lump of unbaked clay taking on a different shape from each set of warm hands that hold it. He only wishes, sometimes, that he could hold onto it for a little longer.
It’s a foolish wish, because if it was granted, he knows he would find himself wishing again to hold it for a bit longer still. Granting it even once would only make him want more, and more, want to clutch a word for as long as his hungry heart beats on from one century into the next.
It would be impossible regardless - he can no sooner speak all his language at once than he can live all his lives at once. It is a gift enough to keep living, he reminds himself, and a gift enough to be able to watch the language changing around him.
Still - he can’t help himself. He misses odd little things. Words and euphemisms and endearments spread out over six centuries and a small slice of the continent, heaped onto his plate next to all the language of the United Kingdom too, clear back to when it was just Engelonde.
Most of them are attached to people he once knew, friends and associates and lovers, which must surely be part of pang of it: the bright wonder of hearing a turn of phrase from someone dear for the first time, whether it was popular or their very own invention; the warm familiarity of associating it with them if he ever heard it elsewhere, after leaving them, as he always did, ever dying off to keep on living somewhere else and someone else; and, inevitably, ending up the last man standing with their words, clinging onto the memory of them by stubbornly using it still, clutching fading ember of it in his bare palms until it's finally too queer and cold and dead within the living blood of language to keep on using.
Sometimes he gets a few decades out of it. Sometimes more, sometimes less.
He’ll share them, of course, if he finds it in a primary source somewhere, but by the time language makes it to print, it’s not on Hob’s shoulders alone to remember it anymore. The dearest ones have no documentation he can dredge up. He’s looked. But he chips in anyways, because it’s the closest thing. He presents them as a little gem of trivia in one of his introductory courses, a weekly Saying Of Yore at the start of his slides, and has the kids guess what it might mean first, to warm them up a bit into participating more, offering their ideas, which are so often refreshing and wildly bizarre that Hob remembers why he puts up with the rest of academia. From a pedagogical perspective it’s all very justifiable. From a personal perspective, he just hopes they’ll catch anew again, that someone will steal it, and breathe it to life again when they tell a friend.
The rest, he stores away. The rest, he slowly forgets. The rest, he translates.
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i mean u know my pick, u all know my pick lmao. here's the opening (currently) of the death of translation. y'all are draining me of my unpublished words like thirsty little vampires and i am INTO IT!! although the only thing i really have left is yet more of this fic which i should ideally just finish writing and post hahaha. thank you so much, also, the ghost of richard ii, for your kind words!! i am sore today but my heart is full, winter is beautiful, and i am happily taking a day or two of breather before embarking on a car hunt.
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