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#“why did you block me?” bud....
syoddeye · 25 days
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bringing this back
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mischievousmoony · 1 month
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hi, ok i have another idea for a fic which again totally up to you to write!! but i had an idea with dad!james and r where their kid is like equally obsessed with their mum as james is with r and one day james decides to prank their kid by saying something bad about the r while their kid is present and the baby just goes off. i feel like you would do an amazing job with this! feel free to ignore too. have a perfectly splendid day!!
-🪷
"the baby just goes off" painted a hilarious picture of an infant yelling at his dad in my mind lmao. ty for the request this warmed my heart to write + special thanks to @moonpascal for chatting a little about kids, gave me the reassurance & inspiration i needed
𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜
⟢ dad!james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, dad/husband!james, mom/wife!reader, no use of y/n, no name for the son, idk how to write a child's dialogue tbh son's supposed to sound 4 years old
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James gladly goes out of his way to mention to anyone who will listen that his little one is unmistakably a Mummy's boy. From family to friends to the poor souls who bag his groceries, James will talk the ear off of anyone he can.
He finds it to be the most endearing thing in the world— the way that your son is as obsessed with you as James is. Always staying close and clinging to you, touching affection radiating from every hug and smile.
Today, as he watches his son run back and forth across the carpet, handing his mother block after block just to see her face light up after each gift, his awe and admiration are insurmountable.
Last night, James surprised you with a pair of earrings that you have been wishing for. When your face lit up upon receiving the little leatherette box, so did your son's. He didn't quite understand why you were so excited about some cube, but since then he's been trying to replicate your excitement with presents of his own.
"Oh my! Another one! Thank you, buddy," you beam, you're gratefulness and delight unwavering as he hands you the sixth block.
Your son giggles, bouncing in his spot as you inspect each side of the little wooden toy, telling him how much you adore the blue penguin painted on one of its faces.
That's another thing that touches James' heart: the tender nurture and care that you bestow upon your son with such unwavering devotion and warmth. It has James convinced that you must be the best mum in the entire world.
He might just melt at the sight of you now, kneeling happily in front of a growing pile of blocks as your son scurries back and forth, adding to your collection. James sits cross-legged to your right, resting his elbow on his knee and laying his head in his hand, watching the two he loves most in the world with hearts in his eyes.
You gasp, as if surprised when handed block number seven. "Oh, this is my favorite one yet. How did you know I love zebras?" you ask, your thumb tracing over the red acrylic paint on the side of the block.
By the time you have twelve, nearly half of his collection, you say, "I have a lot of blocks here, buddy, do you want to give some to Daddy?"
"No!" your son protests immediately, running off to his toy box for the thirteenth time.
You and James both chuckle, exchanging amused glances. Finding your son's reaction hilarious, James’s mischievous side has him dreaming up new ways to push his buttons. Your son thinks the world of you, and James is curious to see what the little guy will do if he claims otherwise.
"Well, what am I gonna do with all of this? Should I..."
You leave your son in suspense for a moment, and his hands hover over his toy box as looks at you, hanging onto your every word in anticipation.
"...build a castle!?"
“Yeah!” your son cheers, scooping three more blocks into his arms, thrilled to supply the bricks for your castle.
James nudges you, a sign of his upcoming playfulness. “You sure about that, bud? Mummy is absolutely rotten at building castles.”
Halfway across the carpet, your son stops in his tracks, glaring at his father as he tries to keep his blocks from falling out of his arms.
Stifling a laugh, you press your fingertips to your lips. By now, you’re used to James’ bursts of mischief, and you’re more than happy to sit back and let them play out. Unless you’re an active participant, of course.
You muster up a scandalized gasp as he reaches for your mountain of presents, claiming three blocks in one hand.
“No!” your little one complains, rushing to drop his three in your lap to replace the ones that James stole, “those are Mummy’s!”
“You sure Mummy deserves all these blocks?” James asks, starting to stack them into a tower, “You watch, I’ll build a castle that’ll make her’s look like rubbish.”
Your son hastily makes his way over to his dad, both arms extended as he collides with the tower and sends the blocks flying. "Stop it," he says as he scoops up the nearest block and runs it back over to you, shouting, "Mummy's castles are the best!"
He climbs into your lap, clutching onto the toy tightly as one of your arms wraps around him, and you feel your heart start to melt as you rub soothing circles into his back. You look over your son's head, your eyes sparkling with affection as you meet your husband's tender gaze.
Not having the heart to mess with him for very long, James concedes, "You're right, I'm not being very nice, am I?"
"Nuh-uh!" your son replies, shaking his head with exaggeratedly vigor, the curls he gets from his dad bouncing about.
"What can I do to make it up to her?" James asks, turning the ordeal into a subtle lesson as he dramatically feigns sorrow and despair over his actions.
"'Pologize," your son commands, his head swiveling to look at James expectantly over his shoulder.
James puts on his most sheepish, apologetic smile, looking from his son to you. "I'm very sorry. He's right, your castles are the best. Can you forgive me, love?"
"Aw, of course I forgive you," you say warmly, your amusement manifesting as a wide smile. You lean back so you can get a good view of your son's face when you tell him, "You know, I bet what Daddy really wants is to build a castle with us. I love your presents, bud, but we don't want to leave Daddy out do we?"
He looks down at the block in his little hand. "No," he replies shyly.
"So why don't you ask him to build a castle with us?" You give him a pat on the back before releasing him from your arms. "Go on," you coax.
He steps closer to James, holding the block close to his chest. "We can all build a castle," he offers.
"Yeah?" James' face lights up, and it's not for show. Genuine joy takes over his features as he ruffles your son's hair, responding, "I'd love nothing more, little man."
"But you have to be nice to Mummy!" he demands, his little voice firm and earnest as he looks up at James with wide, serious eyes.
"I promise, I will be on my best behavior," James assures him, his voice sincere as he gives a playful salute. That's enough for your son, because he finally awards James with his very first block, which he accepts with pride.
"Good!" your son cheers, already moving on to the pile of blocks to start stacking them as he proclaims, "Mummy is the best, and we have to show it!"
Your lips part as you suck in a breath, a quiet gasp. Receiving your son's affection never fails to make your heart swell.
You don't feel James' eyes on you, but he's watching— admiring, more like, as he takes in the way that you soften at your son's sweet words. A smitten smile plays at his lips as he agrees, "She is the best, isn't she?"
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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cowboydisaster · 1 year
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Just Like You
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pairing: SImon "Ghost" Riley x single mom reader word count: 1.6k summary: Ghost can't get used to the fact that he's your son's favorite person in the world, but damn- he's trying. ("You- You're me for Halloween??") a/n: this fic references the comics, so for those who didn't know: Joseph was Simon's nephew. Super angsty and fluffy. Simon bonding with your kid. beta read by @margowritesthings
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Leo loves Halloween. It’s your son’s favorite time of year. The five year old boy, with your help, worked incredibly hard on his costume, and he’s sure it's going to be the best costume on the block. You may be a little biased, but really, it’s very good. Leo has put extra effort into perfecting every detail of his costume, because this year is special.
It’s the first year that Simon will be accompanying Leo with trick or treat. Leo loves Simon to pieces– but Simon can’t figure out why. The soldier elicits fear from nearly everyone that he encounters, his mask makes children scream and run in the other direction. Hell, his mask makes adults piss themselves in the field. Many enemy soldiers have surrendered at the sight of Ghost running towards them. So Simon can’t wrap his head around the fact that his girlfriend’s little boy looks up at him like he’s the greatest person in the world. 
Simon is less than stellar with children. He tries, but he’s not entirely sure how to talk to them. He’s always a little awkward, generally avoiding children when he can, but this one seeks him out. Simon loves you more than anything, and he wants to form a relationship with Leo, he’s just not exactly sure how. He’s trying, for you and the boy. Leo’s biological dad is a piece of shit, which Simon has lived through, and he tries to shield the poor kid from that pain as much as possible. Maybe it’s because Leo reminds him so much of Tommy and Joseph, but your kid is special. 
“You ready, bud?” You ask, pulling a hoodie over your frame. It’s Simon’s and it’s oversized, stopping just above your knees. But it's comfortable, and late-October in Manchester is not. Immediately, you find yourself encompassed in its warmth and the smell of Simon’s cologne.
“Almost, mummy!” Leo yells from the bathroom. “Simon is gonna love this!”
You chuckle, “I know he will, baby.” You grab the fresh mug of tea from your nightstand and head down the carpeted stairs. Simon was to be here an hour before trick or treat. You check your watch. 18:00. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, sounding out loudly through your little home. Always punctual. Leo squeals out of excitement at the sound.
“Coming!” You holler, padding across the chilly living room towards the door. You jog lightly, causing a few drops of tea to spill over from the lip of your mug, dripping down to the floor and splashing against the hardwood floor. Ignoring the little mess, you pull the frosted glass door open. Simon is wearing his less civilian mask with the hard plastic skull face. You’d specifically requested that he wear it, though he wasn’t sure why.
“You can just come in, you know. You don’t have to ring the doorbell.” You chuckle, nodding for him to come in. He steps inside the door, hands softly gripping onto your waist as he kicks the door shut. 
“I told you to keep your door locked.” Simon raises an eyebrow, squeezing your waist. 
“Oh, right…” You hum, squinting your eyes as you recall that conversation, “I forgot.”
“Course you did, love.” Simon smirks, “Happy Halloween.” he says, and you chuckle, gripping his skull mask by the teeth and pushing it up over his face. His scarred lips are sporting a smile, and you kiss it away. It’s over all too quick as he pulls away, nodding towards the cup of tea in your hand. 
“The kettle’s still on, yeah?” He asks, pulling the mask back down over his face. 
“Yes, I’ll get you a cuppa.” You roll your eyes playfully. He’s cutting your kisses short for tea, something he’ll make up for later, you’re sure. Simon glances around the living room, noting the few abandoned truck toys that lie around the living room.
“Where’s Leo?” Simon asks, looking around the living room as you walk towards the kitchen. 
“He’s just finishing getting ready upstairs. Why don’t you go up? I'll bring your tea up.” You hum, grabbing a tea bag and Simon’s favorite mug. You hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs, and take that as his response. 
You shake your head, amused as you slowly pour the steaming water over the tea bag, watching it turn a rich brown. Once it’s properly mashed, you add his preferred amount of milk and sugar, and then carefully start up the stairs. Your footsteps are naturally much quieter than Simon’s, and with the added fact that you’re trying not to spill his tea, he doesn’t hear you coming up the steps. You reach the top, and stop dead in your tracks at the sight around the corner. Simon is walking towards Leo’s bedroom, but from the angle you’re at, you can see Leo hiding around the corner as if he's about to scare Simon. Leo is fully dressed in his Halloween costume, a little replica of the exact outfit Simon is currently wearing, skull mask and all.
“Boo!” Leo screams, rounding the corner that Simon was just about to go around.
Simon clutches his chest, jumping back a comical amount. Simon literally screams, attempting to sound terrified. Obviously Simon isn’t scared in the least, but Leo doesn’t know that. Simon lets the boy proudly think that his costume is scary enough to frighten the unshakeable. Leo’s smile is as bright as ever under his mask, and you grip the cup of tea a little tighter as a smile pulls at your own lips. Simon’s eyes are comically wide as he fakes terror for the young boy. Entirely satisfied with Simon’s reaction, Leo pulls his mask off, giggling madly. 
“It’s okay, Simon! It’s just me, don't be scared!” Leo giggles, jogging up towards Simon who is bent over at the waist, pretending to gasp for breath and holding his chest.
“Bloody hell, mate. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Simon chuckles, scooping Leo up into his arms. Once settled on Simon’s hip, Leo holds the plastic mask up to Simon’s face. It’s an exact replica of the mask he’s currently wearing, just much smaller. 
“Look! I'm just like you for Halloween!” Leo smiles, showing Simon all the little details that he’d put into perfecting his mask. 
“You–” Simon’s brow furrows, “You’re me for Halloween?” He asks, piecing it all together. Leo holds the mask out to Simon, who takes it and looks over the smaller version of Ghost’s infamous skull mask. 
“Yep! Do you like it…?” Leo asks, sounding a bit worried. His little eyebrows pull together, and Simon is quick to reassure him. 
“I love it, mate. It’s perfect, looks just like mine.” Simon whispers. There is emotion in his voice, unusual for him, you note. Tears prick your eyes as Leo puts the mask back on, looking up at Simon. 
“I wanna be like you when I grow up.” Leo says, wrapping his little arms around Simon’s neck. 
“You’re gonna be better than me, Leo. Much better, yeah?” Simon whispers, looking the boy in the eyes. Leo nods, curling up against Simon’s chest. He rubs his hand up and down Leo’s back, comforting him. 
“You know, Leo, you remind me of a boy I used to know.” Simon mumbles in a rare show of emotional vulnerability, his eyes glazed over as he pats the boy’s back. 
“Who?” Leo asks, propping his chin on Simon’s chest to look up at him better. 
“Uh–” Simon hesitates. “His name was Joseph… He was my nephew.” Simon whispers, and your heart wrenches in your chest. 
“Maybe I could meet him someday and we could play.” Leo whispers, hopefully looking up. 
“Yeah. Maybe someday.” Is all Simon says, nodding lightly as old, ugly memories pull at his brain, ones he’d shoved out and burned long ago. 
“I love you, Simon.” Leo whispers, hugging his little arms as tightly around the man as he can manage. He pulls Simon out of every dark thought he was having, those three little words pulling at his heart strings. Simon hesitates, voice stuttering for a moment. 
“Yeah– I love you too, little mate.” Simon whispers, voice heavy with emotion.
“This is gonna be so much fun– Mummy even helped me with my costume!” Leo adds, unintentionally changing the subject. He creates a perfect time for you to announce your presence. 
You hastily wipe your eyes and walk up the last step, rounding the corner you were just hiding behind. You catch Simon off guard, and he turns to you, slowly placing the young boy back on the ground.
“I didn’t hear you come up.” Simon whispers, taking the mug from your outstretched hands. He’s far away, lost in thought. Leo runs down the hall to grab his treat bag as Simon wraps his arm around your waist. 
“Didn’t want to spill your cuppa.” You explain, resting your head on his chest for a moment. Leo comes back around the corner with his bag, excitedly waiting for trick or treat to begin.
You smile up at Simon, noticing a few little tear tracks running down through his eye black.
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ghost taglist: @moths569
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minniesmutt · 4 months
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ur writing is amazing so i'm gonna send a request
straykids challenge y/n and seungmin to not come when they f4ck and whoever comes first has to buy the whole dorm a meal
☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: TEASING, HAND JOB, ORAL (M. REC + F. REC), 69, CLIT PLAY, SPIT, FACE SITTING, FACE RIDING, UNPROTECTED SEX, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CREAMPIE ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.3K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     “Do you know how many towels you two go through?” Minho asked the couple
     “You think I count?” Seungmin retorted
     “It’s too many.”
     “Do you guys not have a designated cum towel?” Hyunjin asked
     “I was under the impression there was,” Y/n said, glancing at her boyfriend
     “Why would I have just one towel for our cum?”
     “Because you guys fuck like rabbits and it’s showing on the water bill,” Minho answered
     “That’s Seungmin’s fault,”  Y/n defended
     “You are just as bad as me,” Seungmin said
     “We know, trust us,” Jeongin sighed
     “I’m glad I don’t live in this dorm,” Han sighed
     “You two need to either stop fucking so much or use one towel,” Minho said
     “Or both,”  Changbin said
     “Whichever one of you cums first next time you’re going at it has to buy the rest of us dinner,” Han said
     “Okay, let’s not place bets on their sex life,” Chan said
     “Deal,” Seungmin agreed
     “I did not agree to this,” Y/n said
     “It’s a chance of a free meal,” Hyunjin said
     Y/n shrugged and agreed. Much to  Chan’s dismay, the rest of the group knew they’d be getting a free meal out of it. 
     When everyone turned in for the night, the whole group knew what would happen. Seungmin was on her as soon as the door to his room closed. He was pulling her to him as he leaned against the door. 
     Seungmin smiled, pressing his lips to hers. Y/n returned the kiss and wrapped her arms around him as he leaned against the door. His hands rested on her ass as their lips tangled together. Gently walking her back to their bed. Y/n pulled her lips away from his and attached them to his neck. 
     “Careful, remember,” Seungmin reminded her
     “I know,” Y/n said and ran her hands up his shirt.
     Seungmin smiled pulled the fabric off and tossed it to the ground. Y/n smiled and slowly sank to her knees, kissing and sucking on her boyfriend's skin till she was kneeling in front of him. Pulling down his sweatpants and kissing his hard-on over his boxers. 
     Seungmin pulled her head back to look up at him. Y/n smiled as she pulled the fabric down, his hard-on popping out. “What are you doing pup?”
     “Taking care of you,” Y/n smiled as she wrapped her hand around him and slowly pumped him. 
     “What if I want to take care of you first?”
     “Same time?” Y/n suggested 
     Seungmin agreed before helping her up and stripping their clothes away. Seungmin lay down on the bed. Y/n smiled as she positioned herself over his face. She leaned down over his dick. Seungmin pulled her down on his face fully as she wrapped her hand around him again. 
     Seungmin licked up from her clit to her entrance as she wrapped her lips around his tip. Both moaning from the contact. Y/n took more of him into her mouth. Seungmin’s lips wrapped around her cot and lightly sucked on the bud. 
     A competitive back-and-forth started. Both kept the little challenge in their mind as they sucked each other. Determined to make the other cum first. 
     Y/n moaned around her boyfriend’s cock as his tongue rolled across her bud. Seungmin smiled at the reaction as he moved his tongue into her. Tongue thrusting into her as his hand moved, thumb rolling along her clit. The next moan she let out caused him to moan too. She popped off him for a moment and let a glob of her spit drip onto his shiny cock. Using her hand to spread it down his length. 
     Seungmin had to pause for a moment when she took him into her throat, her hand gently massaging his balls as he went back to eating her out. Y/n moaned around him as she bobbed her head up and down, tongue swirled around him as he fucked his tongue in and out of her. Fingers stimulating the little bud between them. Both of them bucking their hips toward the other. 
     “Fuck pup,” Seungmin groaned behind her.
     Y/n picked up her pace just a bit at the sound of his groans while he tongue fucked her. She clenched around his tongue ever so slightly as his dick twitched in her mouth. She used her hand to pump his base to get him there faster. It was working.
     She kept up as she felt him pull his tongue out and moan, cumming in her mouth moments later. Y/n smiled to herself as she milked him. Taking every last drop from him before pulling his dick out of her mouth and sat up a bit. Getting off his face and turning to him
     “Get back on my face,” Seungmin told her as he tried pulling her back
     Y/n smiled and let him pull her back on top of him. He let out a sigh before going back to eating her out. Y/n grabbed the headboard as his tongue slipped into her again. His nose pressed nicely against her clit. Y/n moaned as his hands moved up and groped her breasts. Y/n looked down at her boyfriend, eyes peering up at her as he toyed with her nipples. Y/n smiled at him as she rocked her hips against him. 
     “Good pup,” Seungmin groaned.
     “Want you in, Minnie please,” Y/n begged him. 
     The singer hummed and moved his hands to hold her down against his face so she couldn’t move except to grind on his face. Listening to her moan his name till she came on his tongue. Grabbing his wrists as he ate her out through her high. Letting her ride his face till she was almost spent. Seungmin gently helped her down from his face and laid her on her back as he got between her legs. 
     Seungmin pressed his lips to hers as he rubbed her hips. Y/n moaned and moved her lips with his. Moving her arms around his neck. “Okay to keep going?” he asked 
     “Yes,” Y/n answered
     Seungmin smiled and pulled her legs over his hips. Y/n locked her ankles together as he pushed the tip into her. Sinking into her and kissing her neck. “Always so fucking good for me.”
     “Move min,” Y/n moaned
     “And needy,” Seungmin teased as he thrusted into her. Enjoying every moan coming from her was music to his ears. He picked up his pace till he knew he was going at the right pace for her. Especially by the way she tugged on his hair and scratched his back. 
     Her sensitive walls pulsed around him with each thrust. Y/n could already feel her next orgasm approaching rapidly. Seungmin sat up and hovered over her. Grabbing her hands from his back and pinning them to the mattress. “Gonna cum for me again pup?” Seungmin groaned
     “Yes! So close Minnie!” Y/n moaned. 
     “Yeah. Gonna make a mess all over my cock?”
     “Yes!”
     Y/n tightened around him and gripped his hands tighter. Cursing and arching off the bed as her orgasm took over her body again. Seungmin fucked through her high, working towards his own, trying not to ruin hers until her body relaxed against the bed. The idol buried himself inside her as he came. His head falling as his cum painted her walls. Cursing as he rode it out, giving her a few more thrusts then pulling out once he was done
     “All good pup?” Y/n asked as he laid himself on her chest
     “Yeah just give me a second.”
     Y/n smiled and ran her fingers through his hair before he got up. He pulled his boxers up, put her in one of his sweaters, and brought her to the bathroom to clean up. 
     “One towel!” Lee Know yelled through the wall. Y/n laughed as her boyfriend turned on the shower for them and then went to grab them a change of clothes. 
     “How long till they bring up the bet?” Y/n asked when he came back.
     “Jeongin already texted the group chat saying I lost,” Seungmin told her
     “Teasing you too?” Y/n asked as they got  in the shower 
     “Yeah, but I get laid and they don’t so I don't care.”
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aealzx · 2 months
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_______________________
Prologue | AO3
Previous Next
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“You came all the way out here to ask me to identify a plant?” Pamela was understandably incredulous as she blocked Tim from entering her current residence.
“Weeelll,” Tim drawled, shrugging with one shoulder. “Spoiler and Orphan said you’d be the best to contact. We could go elsewhere, but then I’d have to find somewhere else for these bacon and egg sandwiches,” he explained, revealing the hand that was behind his back to be holding a paper bag for a local food joint. It was a bribe. Or payment for services rendered if one wanted to be posh about it. But he was fine calling it a bribe.
“Aw hell yeah!” Harleen’s voice came from further in the establishment, and Tim caught just the faintest hint of a smile twitching Pamela’s mouth. She tried to resist, but Tim held his ground with a decidedly innocent smile, the bag of egg sandwiches still held in offering.
Eventually Pamela sighed and held out her hand. “Fine. What identifiers do you have for it?” she relented, letting Tim set the bag of food on her palm.
“Not much honestly. The locals call it a blood blossom, but I doubt it’s a haemanthus coccineus. We don’t have a picture, but we’re told it looks like a red rose bud with black leaves,” Tim answered. He’d done his own research already while waiting for the food to be made, and that was part of the reason he didn’t feel bad for following through with the others’ idea to ask Pamela. He had a few guesses already, but it would be nice to get a second opinion.
“A rose with black leaves?” Pamela repeated, her disappointed expression becoming thoughtful. “That’s it? Nothing else?” she asked soon after, frowning deeper if possible.
“Nothing else,” Tim confirmed, both disappointed and pleased that Pamela also didn’t seem able to come up with an answer.
“Sounds made up,” Pamela answered bluntly, shifting to move back into the building. “There aren’t any roses with black leaves unless they’re mutilated. The closest you’ll get is a begonia switzerland if you’re just going by appearance.”
“Oh…. that’s what I thought too,” Tim hummed, raising a curled finger to his chin.
Pamela’s eye twitched. “Then why did you-.... Goodbye,” she stammered, then figured it wasn’t worth her time to deal with Tim further, and closed the door on him.
Tim could only snort in amusement, raising his voice for just a moment. “Thanks for the info! Enjoy the food!” he called, grinning as he turned to grapple himself back to the rooftops.
So the blood blossoms were either an extremely obscure name for some other plant, or they didn’t actually exist. And if they didn’t exist, then what had poisoned Danny? At least Dick and Damian were heading straight to the manor to follow up with Alfred about meals, and bring the tissue sample with the plant based poison to where Bruce could use their tech to better analyze it. And Barbara had already mentioned she’d meet them there, so while they might not have a good start on two of the three questions they should at least be able to figure out who these kids were exactly.
—----------
“They don’t exist,” Barbara’s conclusion about the five Phantom kids they had custody of was short, but did little to answer any questions the others had. After spending a few hours gathering her data she had decided to join the others at the manor, the three who had returned from the rescue mission, Bruce, and her now gathered in the Bat Cave by the computer. Admittedly that hadn’t been something they fully expected to hear, so there were sagging shoulders from both Dick and Tim at the announcement.
“You ran the search in all of the databases, yeah?” Tim asked, immediately trying to figure out what they had missed. Barbara was usually extremely thorough. It was hard to believe she came up with nothing on a group of five people. Especially when two of them had superhuman abilities.
“Yes, Tim,” Barbara responded quickly. “If you’ll let me continue before you try to solve the problem yourself I’ll save you some steps,” she added, getting a mildly teasing smile. When Tim relented with a mild shrug Barbara turned her chair back to the computer, pulling her reports up on the huge monitor.
“The DNA samples came up with no results. Amity Park doesn’t exist on any map. There’s no social media posts about any combination of their names. And the photo Jason sent of Jazz’s ID also has no results. It doesn’t even resemble the official driver’s license format of Illinois or any of the other states, so it’s not hard to see why the bank teller would call it a fake,” she listed, bringing up the reports from her data scouring as she mentioned them. “The only activity I can track from them is here in Gotham, starting 72 days ago. I believe that’s when they first arrived here.”
The date caused Bruce to shift, breaking out of his silence once it seemed Barbara had finished summarizing her findings and drawing a connection to a separate report he’d gotten more than a month ago. “72 days ago is when the Justice League got readings of an anomaly on the outskirts of Gotham. Investigations revealed some remains of unknown technology, but no one was there with it.”
“...What kind of anomaly?” Dick asked, tensing slightly at a thought that crossed his mind. Unknown DNA, unusable bank and ID cards, two of them claiming to be beings that were never heard of before now.
“Please don’t say multiverse breach,” Tim whined, revealing that he’d had the same thoughts as Dick.
Instead of answering them Bruce just opened a different report, having been locating it as his sons had been speaking. When the data appeared on screen both Dick and Tim let out extended groans, their forms sagging even more as Barbara chuckled softly.
“It had to be dimension garbage,” Tim whined more, squinting at the report confirming suspected multiverse breach residue in the affected area.
“That explains all the missing data,” Barbara commented, just glad to have an explanation for why all her research was coming up blank prior to the anomaly. It was because they literally had nothing on this earth before then, and not because they were some sort of geniuses that could manage such an extensive data wipe to make even her systems come up with blanks.
“That also explains why Dr. Isley was unfamiliar with the blood blossoms,” Damian added, seeming unfazed by the revelation.
“And literally everything else that was weird about them,” Tim encompassed, frustration bleeding into his tone. What kind of puzzle didn’t even have answers in this world? He felt like that was cheating.
“Do they seem aware that they are no longer in their dimension? We’re sure this wasn’t a deliberate transport?” Bruce asked, masking his growing concern for the dislocated children by suggesting they might still be hiding something.
“Please, these kids can’t hide anything that well,” Tim huffed, giving a wry smile. “The only reason they’re able to hide anything is because they’re also oblivious. Otherwise it’s way too easy to tell they’re keeping something a secret.”
Bruce only frowned more at the response, and Barbara couldn’t help add her own support of the idea that the Phantoms had no idea they weren’t even close to home. “They seemed to have had enough to deal with, I don’t think they had time to consider it. Almost 80% of their activity ties back to them looking for ectoplasm. The other 20% is just general medical care and necessities of living.”
“Ectoplasm is the stuff they said Danny needed,” Dick added unnecessarily.
“I remember,” Bruce responded, though he could also understand why the kids had such a hard time tracking down a source. Most of Gotham didn’t even believe in ghosts, and the only people he or his family knew that matched the category were Boston and Greta. “Their search led them to a Lazarus water exchange.”
“Yeah. But apparently even though it’s similar enough, the Lazarus water is ‘freaky’ and they don’t want to use it according to Danielle,” Dick confirmed, using air quotes for what the small girl had said.
“All five of them have traces of another substance I’ve never seen before that seems similar to residue from Lazarus water as well,” Barbara spoke up to add, reaching over to the computer once more as she once again had their attention. The DNA analysis reports were enlarged, and she used a screen sketch app to mark the unusual traces. “It’s most prominent in Danielle and Danny, though Danny’s levels read a lot lower. But the other three have small traces as well.”
“The one called Danielle made mention of Danny having expended a significant amount of energy, to the point his accelerated healing ability has been hindered. And that there was a lack of locations with an abundance of said energy for them to absorb,” Damian recalled, ignoring the face Tim pulled as he slowly turned to look at him.
“You made that sound way more complicated than she did,” Tim grimaced.
“Silence Drake,” Damian retorted simply.
Dick could only snicker while keeping his gaze on the reports like Bruce was doing. “This will make it easier to track some of the substance down. I’ll see if I can create a collection device to make it easier for us to get larger amounts, and work on a way to neutralize the residual plant material,” Bruce commented, already making plans for the next course of action.
“After dinner,” Dick enforced, resting his hands on the back of Bruce’s chair.
Bruce seemed to consider it, falling silent and keeping his gaze on the monitor, giving no answer other than a short grunt after a long stretch of quiet.
Dick only leaned on the chair more, pulling it back slightly. “Aaaaafter dinner, Bruce. Thirty minutes isn’t going to be that big of a loss,” he prodded.
“...Alfred put you up to this, didn’t he,” Bruce pointed out instead of responding to the request.
“He did,” Dick confirmed, admitting to being requested to make sure Bruce got at least one hearty meal before getting lost in his work once again.
Bruce considered it longer, and by then the rest of his children were already on their way back upstairs. Did he really want Alfred hassling him again? “... Very well. After dinner,” he relented, getting to his feet with a slight sigh and locking the computer screen.
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Dimension hopping confirmed~ And I just realized I now have 2 fanfics that involve dimension hopping X'D that was unintentional.
Questions for the people following/interested: because I'm not familiar with most of DC or really DP's canon and fanon content and there's so freaking much of it out there, which characters would you like to see involved? No guarantees that they'll be in if I can't figure out how to get them to fit, but I need somewhere to start researching stuff X'DD. Also there's essentially 2 goals, wake Danny up, and get Team Phantom back home. How difficult should these tasks be, and which one would people rather have more focus on?
This fic originated from a prompt I found, so I think it might be fun to kind of keep that going? A different kind of writing exercise than what I'm used to. So that's why the questions instead of me just going heheh have a cliffhanger.
Though I will say I'm still of the opinion of no romance, so please don't suggest pairings |D
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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, @fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics, @honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl
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teojira · 3 months
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I love the format!! the monster who swallowed a star!! can you write a platonic drabble with reader and Godzilla, in which fem! human reader is like a Godzilla’s version of Jia, and reader comes to check on him after a territorial fight with Goji and another titan? Thank you!
[Godzilla's companion] [platonic Godzilla and fem!reader drabble]
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Summary: Goji comes to you after a battle, he's tired, let him rest.
Word count: 500ish words
A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK AGES FOR ME TO WRITE SHAWTY, I hope this is good!! I didn't want to make it too long but definitely I'd love to elaborate more on these two's relationship in the future!
@kultofkorii I also hope it's okay I merged your rq with this one! They were pretty similar <3. Thank you for your request!
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Godzilla himself has been used to taking care of himself after battles, licking at his own wounds, waiting for the salty sea to hasten the healing process, he's been on his own for majority of his life.
Frankly, he thinks it'd be better if humans left him be. Half of the things he's gone through in the last decade have been their fault after all. He doesn't want them near. He just wants to rest, to have a break from the non-stop breaking of the balance. He's tired.
You don't care though, which is why you're making your way to him now, ignoring how there's multiple Monarch planes surrounding you both in the air, trained to 'protect' you, should Godzilla attack.
He won't. He remembers you. The little human that is intertwined with him.
Many humans have tried to make peace with the titan, the man who saved him in Atlantis, being one of them mainly. He's always gotten the hint that there's something more to you, something that makes him feel more at ease in your presence.
It isn't the first time he's come to you after a battle. He isn't sure if he seeks comfort or help, but it leads him to your home.
Mothra and Kong may tease him for his apparent soft spot for you, but he doesn't care, growling under his breath every time he so much as hears the beginning of the teasing.
You're running out now, your feet sinking ever so slightly into the sand, flicking it up behind you.
"Big Guy!" And there you are, in front of his snout as he blinks slowly at you, eyes half lidded.
"Bud, what the fuck did you get yourself into this time?" You wince, tenderly placing a hand on his scaly snout, biting you lip as you look him over.
He lets a bellow out, trying to express that he's fine. He's fought worse.
"Do you need to rest?" You hum, moving to sit down against him, taking in his warmth and smell, letting it envelop you.
It's a rare treat when he allows you close with so many others around, so you make the most of it. Curling your body towards him and making yourself comfortable as his tail moves to block the sun, so you don't get burnt.
Nap time.
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Monarch finally fills you in on why Godzilla attacked so randomly, it turned out that there was another titan getting too close to you, Goji handled it the best way he knew how, by fighting it and putting it down so it could never come near you again.
"Lady, you have a guard dog." A security officer shakes his head, making a face at just how brutal the footage is.
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jjunberry · 6 months
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can i be your boyfriend?
pairing! seo changbin x fem! reader
genre! angst with fluffy ending
synopsis! when changbin keeps his feelings for his bestfriend a secret until his friends tease a confession out of him
wc! 940
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changbin’s eyes followed your figure. you were dancing around the kitchen with felix making brownies. he loved how well you got a long with his friends. “you make it so obvious dude it’s kind of sad.” jisung spoke. changbin glared at the boy. “make what obvious?” he asked. “that you like her.” chan budded in. jisung laughed at changbin’s shocked face. “i-i do not.” he tried to defend himself he did. however he couldn’t deny the flutter of his heart and the butterflies in his stomach.
“why don’t you just tell her?” chan asked. changbin was quiet. “i can’t.” jisung rolled his eyes at the boy. “and why not?” changbin shrugged his shoulders. “because it’s not true.” he yelled gaining the attention of the rest of the household. “what’s not true?” felix asked curious. “apparently changbin hyung’s feelings for our y/nie.” jeongin answered from having been eavesdropping on the conversation.
your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. changbin caught your eyes before you quickly turned your attention back to the brownie batter. “don’t mind them y/n they’re being stupid.” changbin tried. you let out a small laugh. “yeah of course silly boys.” you dumped the batter into the baking dish. changbin caught onto your off putting attitude. you were quiet and moved away from his tries for cuddles during the movie.
changbin felt like an asshole.
since that night you haven’t answered his phonecalls. ignored his text messages. didn’t respond to his dms. changbin was pretty sure you blocked his phone number. it was quite the opposite though. you listened to every voice mail, read every text, and dm. you still had his number favorited your phone. it hurt to hear him apologizing for something and he didn’t even know what he did wrong.
you had enough of his constant phone calls and your voicemail was full. you gripped your phone and hit the green answer button. “what?” you snapped. “y/n? what has gotten into you? you ignore me for weeks then get nasty when you finally do answer. what’s going on?” he sounded tired. you sighed. “i don’t really want to talk about it.” the temptation to hang up was eating at you, but your heart wanted to hear him out.
“well i want to. i think i deserve to know why my best friend is ignoring me.” changbin sighed deeply and you heard rustling as he moved positions in what you could only assume was his bed. “please.” he pleaded. it was your turn to sigh. “changbin do you have any idea why?” you couldn’t bring yourself to just openly say ‘hey i like you and it hurt my feelings when you said you’d never see me that way.’
“no, i just know i hurt you and i’d like to know what i can do to make it better, to make us better.”
you couldn’t help the scoff that left you. “you don’t even know what you did. changbin i like you but you’d never see me that way.” you seethed. unable to hide the heartbreak any further. “w-what?” he was speechless. his heart was beating out of his chest. you liked him back? before he had the chance to plead his case the call ended.
you took his silence as confirmation of your feelings being unrequited.
it took changbin all of ten minutes to get from the dorm to your apartment. your sobs covered the door bell so he used his key to get in, the key he promised to only use in emergencies. to changbin you crying was always an emergency. a major one since the tears were over him.
he quickly made his way to your room, were you were in a ball under the blankets. he seen your figure shaking and the sound of your sobs shattered the last few pieces of his heart. “y/n.” he spoke softly. you jumped and pulled the blanket off your head. even with your hair sticking up in different directions and your eyes swollen and puffy, you were still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
“changbin w-what are you doing here?” your voice was shaky. changbin took a few steps before sitting next to you on the bed. “y/n you never even let me reply.” he started but you cut him off. “sorry i didn’t want to hear you reject me.” you seethed flopping down and pulling the blanket over yourself once again.
“will you let me finish please?” he sighed. you shrugged under the covers. changbin placed his hand on your hip and rubbed your leg comfortingly. “before you hung up on me, i was going to tell you that i like you too, not even i love you.” you peeked out from the blanket and looked at changbin who already had his eyes on you.
“you do?” you asked. “yeah i do.” he replied. you sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. changbin gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap. his hands slipped under your shirt and he caressed your skin. you locked your hands around his neck. your forehead rested against his. “y/n i love you so much.” he whispered. his lips brushing against yours. “i love you too.” you finally connected your lips to his.
changbin’s grip on your hips tightened and he pulled you closer to him. “y/n?” he asked as you pulled apart. “yeah.” you mumbled chasing his lips after the kiss. “can i be your boyfriend?” you giggled smacking his chest before capturing his lips against yours again. “yes.”
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requested! by @dinossaurz
tag list! @304files @jjunieworld
author’s note! ahh my first (official) skz fic i’m so happy to be writing for them tysm for requesting
masterlist
love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪
© jjunberry
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deniedmysign · 8 months
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People will really go out of their way to find ways to complain about how people ship. "oh but there's canon this (which is what I want to ship)" great, bud. Ship away. There's a tag for you! "I don't like this ship, why can't they just ship (this ship I like)?" Because shippers gonna ship, there's still a tag just for your preferred ship!
Trust me, I feel it. One of my faves has a super popular ship I don't vibe with. Know what I did? blocked that tag and let them ship without bothering me about it. We can leave character tags neutral and ship in ship tags. It's a good setup here. Enjoy your ships.
You can even block headcanons you don't like! It's why we love tags here so much (and get a little pissy when people abuse them - use tags appropriately, this isn't insta or tiktok, you're not influencing the algorithm here.) It helps keep things organized when you use tags to tag just what you want (and whatever algorithm there is here learns only what you want).
Surround yourself with what you want to see in your tumblr experience and you'll be a lot happier that way, trust.
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ficsonpost-its · 18 hours
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reuniting with pitfighter!vi headcanons
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cw: alcohol abuse, blood, general angst
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‣ From the perspective of someone who knew Vi before The Incident, the stark change you see in her is downright shocking in a heart-breaking, tragic way. But at the same time, oddly predictable.
‣ This strong willed girl who loved so, so fiercely, who taught other downtrodden kids how to stand up for themselves, who would sooner punch first and ask questions later, was now reduced to a shell of her former self.
‣ You had heard news of a hot-and-ready new combatant in the underground pits deep in the heart of Zaun and something compelled you to check it out. Somehow, could it be her? After all this time?
‣ When you managed to find your way into one of these underground fighting rings (not a small feat at all) it took you a long time to actually recognise her, but when you did, your heart dropped.
‣ Had she dyed her hair? She blended in with the rest of the riff-raff with the dark hair, almost black, with barely a streak of her signature pink to be seen.
‣ There was an energy to her that you couldn't quite place, but it was nothing like the Vi you used to know as round-cheeked kids.
‣ Finding her after she won the fight was difficult, but you managed. Not recognising each other upon first glance was mutual at first, and then she heard your voice
‣ The way she stared at you was almost haunting. Really - she looked like she was seeing a ghost. She was in an awful state now that you were up close and taking in her features after so long.
‣ Her nose was crooked from being broken you dreaded to think how many times, and cuts and bruises were dotted about her face - obviously she still hadn't learned how to block properly, you allowed yourself the one humorous thought.
‣ Her lips were cracked, and a bloodied scab adorned the plump curve of the middle of her bottom lip, near to the now faint scar. Sure you had seen her lips chapped, had felt them at some point when there was a budding development between you both. Before life was upturned and you were ripped apart.
‣ You wondered why she had colored her hair the way she did. How hurt was she inside that she had to resort to a life like this? What had happened too her? You felt a pull, you wanted to make things right for her.
‣ There was something you could smell. A faint whiff. It was faint enough it could somewhat blend into your surroundings, but as you stepped hesitantly closer to your childhood squeeze, you could pinpoint the tell-tale smell of alcohol. How often was she drinking? Those that drank don't just dull pain, they dull and dumb down joy, self control and whatever personality they had too - they live in the cage of the primitive brain. Imagining Vi like that, imagining what drove her to this path in the first place, was almost too much to comprehend.
‣ There was a pause before she said your name, More like breathed it. Just like you she was in disbelief that you were here, in front of her, and very much real. It took you a few moments to respond.
‣ "It's me, Vi. I'm here."
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sorry these are short!
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lukola4evs · 2 months
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So here’s my theory (subject to change)
Mom and Dad always had a soft spot for each other or “kind eyes” but could never act on it since 2019
L always referring Ross and Rachel etc.
They’ve always been friends, he ask N for advice on J etc. and even in season 1 or 2 promo (zooms she did) she was tearing up seeing her friend asks her questions.
Season 3 they dive in and get super emotionally connected.
Season 3 they fall in love as polin but also fall in love to the point where the blurred lines definitely have J/L break up.
Timeline during filming
Block 3 filming, episode 5/6 emotional mess so to speak if you catch my drift. J/L breakup nov/dec
Block 4 filming episode 7/8, flirty on set but no definite name to it.
Episode 8 riding scene (all lukola) and production could tell so that’s why we get montage cut.
But they are so bf/gf coded here
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Liz (ic) gives them steps to walk away and make sure it’s real and they are distant but they do check in and they’re still in lurve with Photo Booth pic.
So N makes decision for them to walk away because Liz but also since she’s a jaded guarded Capricorn she needs to make sure it’s real for her and not just feelings from pen since it’s “such a profound experience”
L does hbs and parties his feelings away,
N and L post thirst traps for each other on ig last year. I’ll post pics later but she did one from New York and he did shirtless pics from R ig. (You don’t have to follow publicly to keep tabs)
They come back for reshoots dec ‘23 and they back at it like they meant to be but N still doesn’t let anything happen because polin 🙄
On March 2nd, 2024 N likes that zendaya posts saying about being an actor and falling in love with your costar.
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Then press tour heats up. Back and forth messages hidden in promo (Ive rewatched 50 videos and the things you catch 2nd time around is crazy)
Now press tour - it was fun until Brazil and L only told N it was completely casual with A and not to worry about it.
They allowed themselves to fully soak up in each others energy because they are doing press as them. Not the characters. So they now know it’s not just an on set thing. Fucking Finally.
N ditched her side piece expecting L to do the same and he tells her he will, they love up some way or talk about feelings all Brazil, Toronto, Ireland, and part of london.
L is nervous af knowing a’s going to London premier and didn’t tell N outright. So in all london interviews he’s reaching out constantly to n (not only because he wants to now but because he’s worried whatever he and a have planned with his team is gonna be like a 💣 to N)
N ever the skeptic can since his bs (or maybe his lack of vulnerability when they were with her family) and eases back emotionally when she remembers too
London promo always throws me off part of the way. (Deliberately calling him bud - downplay what they have if he’s not gonna be serious or talking about showers to incite jealousy?)
But she can’t help when we see the 😍 either.
Pap pics drop she’s pissed next day. Post satc tt to be a bit vindictive
Lets it stay up for 24 hours.
L or someone reaches out and she makes the lukey newts fan club pr post.
Then for the first 6-7 days after it’s like they have coordinated posting. Always liking in 15 minutes or whatever.
Then in addition to this she lets the Polaroid be seen at ts to let us know it’s all good between them to the ga and shippers.
Fast forward to Wimbledon we see enough of the Polaroid to let us all on x know it’s a different one. And if we know it’s different from computer screens then so does L. Remember by now we know his notifs are on.
He’s got adhd and best believe when his love of his life is icing him out he’s gonna hyper fixate on everything he knows. Including a phone case he’s stared at for ages and constantly liking her stuff first thing when he wakes up.
Now n is icing him out, giving herself some time to do her and work.
Didn’t @ him on latest amazing thank you all posts which is usually her m.o. she tagged the pic but not in the captions is what I mean.
When they reunite after he deals with a he’s gonna have to make amends because Istg I know they are end game but I feel like he told her it was gonna be one way when it went sideways on her outta nowhere (she left after party super early even for having work next day)
Like he’s such a ppl pleaser the minute he got back with his friends he or someone decided that life isn’t his regular life and went back to friend group ways.
Posting more tomorrow. Didn’t realize this was so long.
LOVE x
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oldguardleatherdog · 18 days
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The Night Before the Tribute In Light September 10, 2003
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I.
One month ago today, this long-forgotten photo suddenly popped up in the photo app on my laptop. I took this photo with my Sanyo clamshell phone on September 10, 2003, 21 years ago tonight, from Hudson River Park in Manhattan.
Don't ask me how it survived all these years or where it's been stored all this time or how in the world it could have found its way to me from the long-dead storage servers of a long-defunct cell phone carrier. We're in the penumbra of The Anniversary, and time is out of joint.
I had been back in New York for about a month (after getting violently run out of the place I was staying by a fellow who is now one of my closest friends), homeless and living in that roach-infested HIV crack-house shelter at 96th and Broadway that I describe in "The One Decent Thing I Ever Did" (it’s archived on this blog), and you can imagine my state of head and spirit at this moment, the night before the 2nd anniversary of the terror attacks on the World Trade Center that drove me from my home in Lower Manhattan, four blocks east of the site.
I was sitting on a bench in Hudson River Park on the West Side of Manhattan, somewhere near Houston Street, maybe ten or fifteen blocks north of World Trade. I hadn't noticed these beams of light as I walked, and I think they might have just been activated while I was sitting there. As I recall, it was a full moon in Virgo, and I was positioned just right to snap this shot. I had *no* idea what this was all about, as I recall, but I thought the image was so striking and affecting that I wanted to capture it.
As it turns out, this was the tech run-through for the first September 11th installation of the “Tribute In Light”. Here’s Google’s AI summary of this remarkable memorial:
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So there I was, just two years after the blast, stunned by this sudden, mysterious apparition rising from just south of what was still a giant, messy hole in the ground. I was still not fully myself at that time and would not regain my full memory or sense of who I was until the following January (therein lies a tale!), and as I recall I was just numbly stunned, not knowing what to make of it.
As I write, I’m getting the physical sense memory of that moment: the dog in me (my medulla oblongata speaking) feels his hackles rise, it’s not what I expect to see filling the hole in the sky, is it another attack? Do I bark at it, sound an alarm, run towards it, away from it, why is there light there, is this some unholy ruse, another trick being played on me from that big smoky hole where nothing but poison has spilled out for the longest time?
My phone rang. It was a fellow that I had met and hung out with in San Francisco while I was stranded there, and I was stunned to hear from him, especially at that moment. “Hi Dave… well, right now I’m on the riverfront looking at the damnedest thing… [I just wanted to make sure you were ok] hey, thanks for checking in… yeah, take care bud.” I closed the phone and started walking south along the riverfront, toward the light beams.
When I got there, I saw the massive banks of klieg lights assembled in their arrays, a strange and unfamiliar (unwelcome) echo of the shapes and the placement and the footprints of the place I loved so well.
The faces of the artists who surrounded the lights were intense, focused, sober. I still didn’t quite know what was going on, but there was profound reverence in the air, on those faces, at that place, as the beams of pure white light soared upwards, past the point of naked-eye discernment, unending, likely petering out tens of thousands of feet off that spoiled piece of ground, perhaps piercing the ionosphere, did they get clearance from the Federal Aviation Administration for this? Are pilots being disoriented by these columns at 45,000 feet? Do they touch the feet of God?
II.
And I kept walking south, my back to the light,
Down to the oldest part of the civilized island,
Past the Battery, the bronze bull, the buttonwood tree,
The Port of New York dead ahead,
The Staten Island Ferry terminal, ramshackle, ancient,
Entry restricted by terror tape and armed sentinels
No two uniforms alike, a panoply of enforcement,
Heavy weapons at the ready, so jarring in my neighborhood,
And the working dogs with the keen snouts, the trained muzzles,
Jumping up to paw at the brown bag in the soldier’s hand
Is that peanut butter? Apple? Hunk of cheese?
Let’s play! You’ve been so serious, so worried,
You smell sad and scared, are you lost? Let’s play!
Even Cerberus needs break time, belly rubs, treats!
For the first time in weeks, I smile to myself
As I round past the ferry, those strange lights at my back.
Hope I can sneak past the turnstile downstairs,
I won’t have to hike back up three hundred blocks
To that awful low place. Did you know roaches bite?
They shit on you too. Try to sleep, fully dressed,
Watch cap pulled low on my head, long sleeved shirt
Buttoned up to the collar, heavy pants tucked in boots,
Gloves on my hands, one more night without food
Half-bag of speed takes my mind off the pain
Sleep comes in fits if at all. – On the train
Dreading the stop: ninety-sixth street and Broadway.
Tomorrow, this city will jack itself off
In performative weeping and gnashing and cursing
Oh, how we loved them! I snort in derision,
You didn’t lose nothin', you pieces of shit!
Let the dead bury the dead. Beams of light
Don’t feed this refugee reeking of ashes -
What, do I smell bad? So sorry to stink up
The place where you’ve laid out the feast for your friends
Who still have their jobs, their high homes in the towers
Behind the glass doors where your larders are stocked
With the food that you bought with your government money
That flooded your midtown Manhattan apartment
With all the new clothes, electronics, the sausages
Fresh from Enrico’s, Zabar’s, D’agostino’s,
Bought with the Victim’s Fund money you stole
When you filed your claim. “OMG, it was awful!
“I couldn’t get up to the fifty-fourth floor,
“I had to find shelter on Upper Park Avenue.
“Power was out. I was homeless that night!
“So glad that my friend who was shopping in Gramercy
“Gave me the number to call for my claim
“September 11th was horrid! I told them
“I couldn’t go home for two nights! Oh, thank God
“The claim got approved with a wink and a nod
“And no one’s the wiser – I’ve never been south
“Of the Plaza Hotel! That all happened on Wall Street,
“Who goes down there? Jesus Christ, are you kidding?
“That’s four miles away! Christopher, are you coming
“Or what? Reservations at Nobu won’t wait
“For you or for me, so quit primping!”
The pain
In my stomach, relentless. My gorge won’t stop heaving.
Am I gonna make it? Damn, *ouch!* What the fuck…
The tooth that I hoped would hold out just gave way,
Fuck me. Another huge hole in my grille.
When I made six figures and lived in a high-rise,
Fuck buddies laughing on Saturday night,
Nobody told me that one hundred minutes
And two hijacked jet planes would make such a difference.
No one will laugh with me now – my best friends
Are yelling and angry, how dare I show up
Sweaty and toothless, a walking reminder
Of September tenth. No, I’m not gonna feed you.
III.
Now, twenty years later, they’ve retooled their memory:
“Animal! Damn, dog! We’ve missed you, you know,
“Wow, you’re alive! You look fabulous! Listen,
“I never gave up on you. Give a call
“When you come to the City. I want you to meet
“My beautiful husband – he remembers you too!”
IV.
Twin beams of light where the Towers were anchored,
Okay, not exactly precisely those spots,
But who’s gonna criticize? Look and recall
How majestic they were. Yeah, the new One World Trade
Is cool, I suppose – no one mentions the absence
Of Two World Trade Center. Insurance, you know.
Not enough money or civic ambition,
And Bloomberg discouraged it. Why add a target?
“Don’t you think sixty or seventy stories
“Are more than enough? Hell, let’s just get it done.
“The sooner we finish construction, the better.”
V.
*There will never be lumens of adequate volume
Sufficient to seal that hole in the sky,
But the hole in my heart I will finish, I tell you.
Walk with me as I go forward. Tomorrow
I’m back in the studio. Tonight, we can play!
You smell like apples and – damn, is that chocolate?
(our light beams shine upward forever)
"Good boy!"
Animal J. Smith San Francisco, California September 10, 2024
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dalliesque · 7 months
Text
'All My Youth 가득 차 너의 온기'
Blue Spring — Tomorrow By Togheter
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꒰𝗧 𝗕𝗬 𝗧꒱ .ᐟ 1
✴ sypnosis "all my youth is filled with your warmth"
꒰ png ' leehan × fem!reader, smau, fluff fluff and silly. cw ' punching, alcohol wipes, iodine, bandages, mentions of dhar mann lol and curse words. contents : 8 attachments. wc 100++ words, not proofread! ꒱
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you let out an exasperated sigh, dragging your feet along the bustling hallway as you make your way towards the infirmary.
"leehan, leehan" his name silently escapes out of your lips blocking the constant whispers of students around.
a thud rings in your ears, you closing the door of the infirmary. your eyes meet with his, locking in a gaze.
a smug look plasters on his face as he spoke. "so you see—"
"wipe that shit of your face dhar mann" you interrupt, searching for an ointment to clean his wounds.
"hey! i do not take insult as a payment, dhar mann is my best bud" leehan snicker as he patiently wait for you to prepare the necessities to clean his wounds.
you roll your eyes, approaching him with all the ointments in hand. alcohol wipes, bandages and iodine. "how many times did i told you not to punch some random people?"
you gaze at him as you take a seat beside him on the clinic bed.
"is this going to hurt" he points at the alcohol wipes.
"leehan."
"he's no stranger, he's your hater! thank goodness you weren't there when he said his stupid words. im sorry for punching him, but he hated on my love and it hurts me too." leehan pouts his lips, continously ranting about the said man.
you peck his pouting lips, turning it into a sheepish smile "fine, i forgive you. only cause i love you and you're too precious for this world."
"but you do have to pay the price and endure these stinging ointments."
"that's why you ignored my question earlier— oW! babe!"
you brush the alcohol wipes over his wound to clean it, applying iodine not short after "crybaby"
"it hurts" his plump lips formed a cute pout.
"hurts me more when i found out you punching someone the third time. lucky the school didn't kick you out." you jokingly slap his lips, making his lips curl even more
"i thought you already forgive me?"
"you thought"
"babe~"
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bonus .ᐟ
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꒰ 𝗧 𝗕𝗬 𝗧 ꒱ .ᐟ m.list ⋅ ⋅ next
join the gang here ⋅ ⋅ networks @k-labels
⌗ tags @lilacgyuvin
⌗ yuxi babbles𓂃 suppose to be a comfort au but i ran out of time 🥹💔 super duper short to start this series but trust me it gets progressively longer each time (rip to me and my sleep schedule). please support this series! it's mentally draining lol.
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legend-the-dumb-jock · 9 months
Note
Hello Sir. Can you help me, make my wish came true. I want became big hairy muscle bear. I can will pay any price for that.
Hey bud 😈 You get home from the gym and are annoyed. You have been working out for so long and you can’t seem to pack on the muscle you want. Until now. Walking through your apartment you can’t understand why it’s so hot. You’re burning up and can feel the sweat dripping down your body as if you’re still in the gym working out. The first sensation you feel is a tingle in your groin and when you look down it’s as if the thing is moving on its own. Pulsating. Thinking. Bulging. Soon your underwear begins to pinch you and you wince in pain as you quick take off your shoes, shorts, and underwear to try and relieve the uncomfortable sensation. As soon as you pull your underwear down your member plops out heavy and soft. You gasp as it’s got to be at least double the size in all manners that it used to be. It’s physically stuck out from your body now while resting on some huge pendulous orbs that made it stick out even more. The next thing you feel is your toes beginning to punch up on the floor stretching yours toes you look down and see that your feet are growing noticeably bigger and your legs are catching up while the muscle begins to grow in thick and coated in a hairier skin. The process accelerates and notes to your stomach where cobble stone abs appear and your pecs jut out from your body like two cinder blocks stuck to your chest. Your stems ballon with muscle and soon everything begins to get coated in the same hair as everything else. Soon your shirt rips from the expanding mass underneath while your shoulder and neck begin to explode with muscle. Your chin pulls out slowing with your brow bone as your ears poke out slightly. You begins to get a menacing look about as a thick beard grows in and your hairline recedes. Tattoos begin to grow in your body on your arms and the last thing that you can physically feel happening is the pain in your feet as your toes mange’s to destroy the socks that were holding your feet hostage. Growing an additional 4 inches right front of you. You’re breathing heavy and sweating even more. The smell of sweat and bo all mixed together quickly makes your apartment smell like a gym locker room. But it’s all your smell. A smell that won’t be going away. Then as if on command you become hard as a hard and pre bugging to dribble. You can’t help but moan in ecstasy as what feels like an imaginary force begging to work your massive length. You hear a voice coming from within your head telling you to desert your old life and take this one. All you have to do is release. And on that word you exploded your old life out of your member. Sealing your fate in this large muscular hairy man you have become by some unnatural force. You slump down on the floor. Breathing heavy. The. Your body begins to move on its own as the unnatural force that did this to seems to have taken over. Leaving you stuck in the passenger seat of your own body.
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sevenop · 2 months
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Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: The Countess's carriage
A/n: You get your driver's license, and Billie just likes to mess around sometimes.
Billie's point of view. Small references to "Oxytocin".
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"Okay guys, we're done, you're packing up the equipment! You all did a great job!" - The photographer gives the command and his booming voice shaking the bright studio like a fairy-tale giant easily lifting a log cabin into the air, and for a second it seems that even the huge vertical plane of the cyclorama behind me is swaying, absorbing his powerful, bassy voice. Something reminiscent of huge stage speakers, quite amusing. - "Thank you more for such a pleasant cooperation, Ms. O'Connell."
The stocky man smiles as kindly as if he were a boy of five, making his truly French mustache bounce upward in curls. And he himself is a living embodiment of Parisian chic, making an impression of some incompatible between windiness and seriousness. Chinos pants in gray plaid, expensive white shirt that is deliberately not buttoned up on the first button, black classic Vans slip-ons, brown jacket, and his majesty - yellow scarf. It's like I never left Paris, a really wonderful photographer.
"Just Billie," - I sank blissfully into the blue pouffe with my foot on the leg, - "and thank you, it's mutual."
The good-natured uncle walks away, looking at the camera screen with incredible satisfaction as he walks (perhaps even calculating the profits from the magazine covers, as evidenced by his dreamy feline smile), and I can finally exhale, relaxed. When I lean my head back and close my eyes for a few seconds, the studio around me is as noisy as a forest: someone removes the nozzle from the softboxes with a characteristic rustle like the sound of leaves, or heared alternating clicks that make the studio lights go out, reminiscent of a woodpecker's knocking on wood. And it's all mixed in with the rushing of people stomping around, muffled speech that I'm not really trying to make out. With an exhalation I open my eyes leisurely, and while long-legged tripods and reflectors, so similar to buds opened under the sun, are "flying by", I fumble for my phone in the pocket of baggy jeans. Even in this consonance of work noise, I hear most sensitively the sound of the notification from you. Or maybe I don't hear it, but already feel it in my heart, who knows? A light swipe up and our chat window obediently pops up. Emoji of a burning heart in place of name and your photo in the profile circle, where you deliberately playfully shine your sharpened bare collarbones, which for me is the most delicious cherry that I want to savor on my tongue.
"Hey, guess who can surpass you on the road now? 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜"
A warm smile spreads on my lips: your efforts have really paid off despite the itchy worries in your soul. So proud of you, though I can't help but tease jokingly - the newfound opportunity is too sweet, since you and I can have such an unconditionally good time.
"Debatable about surpassing me, my girl..." - And immediately followed by a new blue cloud of a message that slipped right out from under my fingers. - "But I'm eternally proud of you, you're incredible."
"Then why does it look like you want to take me on as a bet, Eilish?"
Bingo. As soon as I slyly cast my rod, you immediately swallow the bait, even knowing full well what's involved. Your deliberate submissiveness is so enticing, it makes me bite my lower lip, automatically stoking the hungry flames of my obscene thoughts. The false fang scratches my lip from the excessive pressure. Shit... Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a tall, thin shadow looming over me, causing me to raise my head, reflexively blocking my screen.
"Billie, ready to go yet?" - Laura smiles, holding the thick day planner in one hand and holding it out to me with the other like a caring fairy godmother. I nod and immediately brag to get up from the blue ottoman in one motion. - "You look a little tired, dear, but luckily that was the last activity for today."
"And this is coming from a person who should be on a well-deserved vacation twice already, but has been putting it off for about six months now," - I chuckle, and Laura playfully folds her fingers pistol-wise, tucking her "sacred" texts under her armpit. A few impromptu shots, and I play along like an unlikely Hollywood movie actor, grabbing dramatically at the heart. - "Okey, my lip zipped."
"That's right!" - Ramsey, with a cheeky grin, alternately blows imaginary smoke off her fatal "weapon" before she get back in the same mood. - "Should I call a driver to give you a ride home?"
"No, that's okay,"- I sluggishly wave her off as the two of us weave our way toward the exit of the room, keeping our course toward the intricate weave of several dark corridors and dressing rooms. - "Better tell me, can I keep those awesome fangs?".
"I think, for a small fee, it's quite possible."
"Great!" - I dip my hand into my pocket again, unintentionally blinding myself with the display in the unfamiliar darkness at first. My fingers immediately touch the necessary letters, as if in a sharp and passionate tango. - "Simply marvelous."
One can now tread on this fragile ice far more confidently than before.
"It is, I want." - The blue cloudlet goes to you, losing the final "you" along the way, which I did, after all, erase as soon as I typed it. Not because it's not true, but because it's too boring and stupid to open all the cards at once. - "Will you pick me up?"
Two thin, white checkmarks appear almost immediately in the corner, notifying me that it's been read. The three dots at the top of the screen bounce meditatively as I say goodbye to Laura, who's walking further down the maze of narrow corridors, and I'm touch the handle of the dressing room with the palm of my hand as I make mine way inside.
"Yeah, only if you're want ride on a bicycle." - The words skillfully build into your traditional irony, and I can hold back a burst of laughter. - "I don't have a car yet, and I don't think you're so dreamy about having all of LA running after us when they recognize you."
"Take my Dragon, and show me what you can do. I'll be waiting."
I write the address and set the phone back down on the table contentedly, settling into the high chair in front of the mirror: I smile languidly, and a pair of snow-white fangs and silver grillz catch the glow of light from the warm backlighting running along the mirror frame. The silver star shining especially brightly. I notice the playful blue sparks in my gaze that flicker with the stirring dirty thoughts already running rampant in my head. Well, this is going to be fun!
×××
As soon as I leave the building through the back door, under the usual escort of two trustworthy guards and the responsible Laura, I hear the familiar, soft rumble of the engine and my favorite rustle of wheels in the deep dark blue twilight: you pull into the parking lot like a careful panther, so as not to attract unnecessary attention. Although I know how much you want to make noise for the whole block and press the gas pedal to the floor. I like to do that. And I think I like to see you driving my car, which I'm just now finding out.
"You're too sexy against the obsidian black metallic, you know that?" - I dive into the passenger seat, which feels a little unfamiliar, and you almost drop your jaw to the floor of the cabin in surprise when I look at you defiantly from under my dark glasses and smile. I bite my lip deliberately, setting the stage. - "You like it?"
"Insanely." - You look adoringly into my blue waters, so beloved of you, and I can't hold back a slight blush, immediately covering myself with a smirk. - "You seem to have surpassed even Carmilla herself, Countess."
"I hope the first vampire in the history of literature doesn't take too much offense at me." - I grab to my seatbelt, letting a chuckle pass through my lips.
"She will. It's impossible to be offended by you."
As we pull out of the parking lot, the right to stare elegantly becomes my authority, which you've unknowingly handed over to me, as if you've performed a gothic sacrament in the semi-darkness of the cabin by your mere appearance and demeanor. The massive gold chain that weighs so seductively on your neat neck is worth it. And the long coffee-colored jacket that accentuates your sculpted shoulders? My gaze falls on the thin strap threaded into the laces of your casual pants - the belt plaque is gold-plated, too. You lower your right hand, gently touching the gearshift knob, and I stare so dumbly, hungrily outlining each phalanx and the line of rings playing on your beautiful fingers. Oh my God... You're doing absolutely nothing obscene, and I'm practically dying already.
"Is everything okay?" - you ask, not taking your eyes off the road. Your face is so unaccustomedly focused, though I catch some concern in your gaze.
"Just admiring you," - I take off my sunglasses, clinging them with one earpiece on the collar of my T-shirt. - "And... I wanted to offer you something."
"Listening attentively, my Countess." - You look at me expectantly, just as we slow down at the stoplight waiting for the signal, a purring chuckle on your lips. - "Anything for your gothic majesty, the finest carriage at your service."
"Is it really the best? It's not like I'm driving right now." - A smirk shoots up on its own, causing you to do nothing but tsk tsk and roll your eyes theatrically. You're my flawless opera.
"Stop taunting and tormenting me and tell me what you're up to, slick."
The air sticks in my throat barely in time to form meaningful words, or at least syllables: a red Audi comes nose to nose, honking softly. My hands reach for mine glasses, clawing them back onto my face as a kind of reflex. And you're instantly taut, like a string twisted in the right direction by a peg on top of the fingerboard. Hands on the handlebars in perfect position, for all the flashy high marks. Again another slight honk of a car suddenly appearing nearby breaks the silence of the night.
"Did I do something wrong?" - You ask perplexedly, arching your eyebrows slightly in a frown and turning your head toward the window, just in time for the expensive source of the rich scarlet-colored sound. The Audi immediately winks playfully at you a couple times with its high beam lights, making you squint more and more with the question hovering right above your head.
"No, relax." - I run my hand down your thigh, which immediately tenses under my palm. You turn your gaze back to me, still as questioning, but you spread your leg closer to me without further ado. You're so obedient, it's a miracle. - "It's just that you're being called to a stoplight race."
"Uh, just like in the movies?"
"Uh-huh." - I slide my hand thigh , down to your knee to come back up and rest on the border of my inner thigh. The look is attentive, eye to eye, you're not even looking down yet. - "When two or more drivers in expensive cars meet randomly on the road and try to prove who is 'cooler' by overtaking each other, flashing high beams, playing 'checkers' usually with significant speeding."
"And... How do I win?" - My palm dives down, and you start breathing a little confused, which someone else wouldn't even notice unless you knew you properly. But I do know, and that brings a satisfied smile as if on cue. - "Eilish..."
"I'll tell you if you promise to grant my wish," I return back, squeezing your thigh through the fabric of your pants. - "Whatever it is."
"I promise." - You nod confidently, even without any pause. A small spark of excitement shines in the depths of your pupils. Wonderful.
"Usually this sort of thing ends with one heavily outmaneuvering the 'opponent', like while he's stopped at a stoplight, bumping into slow traffic, and stuff like that." - I lower my glasses a little, peeking over the edge of the frame. Your gaze drifts momentarily to the rich blue of my lashes, and then you're back at the mercy of my calculating eyes. - "Racing from stoplight to stoplight, usually starting on green, then rapid acceleration, 'checkers' and braking before the next stoplight.
"Well, there's no other cars here now, obviously."
"In our case, all we have to do is run a green light to get our opponent 'stuck' into a red light." - feeling the coolness of the gearbox knob with the palm of my hand is nice, even sitting in the passenger seat, even if it feels completely different. - "Roar if you want to compete."
You pause for a second, arching your back into the seat, staring appraisingly at the distant traffic light in front of you, and then place your hands on the steering wheel. Seeing the blue ribbons of your veins on your tense wrists is pure sex. You squeeze the gas pedal, shaking the silence of the intersection with a powerful roar - and that's sex multiplied by x-two. You really know how to make the Dragon sound. And I know how to make you sound. The scarlet Audi responds immediately, making noise and "shooting" the engine in a cocky, open and brazen challenge.
"I dibs pay on the fines, Eilish." - you exhale tensely with a chuckle, staring at the red light as if someone's life depends on it. Oh, you're nervous as if you're on your deathbed, waiting with your hand clasped on the handle.
"The Countess is betting all her treasure on you, my coachman." - I lean back in my chair with too much wimpy pathos on my tongue, and as I smile my teeth catch the glow of the streetlights again, which is especially visible in the side mirror. Red changes to yellow, to which the Audi growls again, and you don't make a single extra move, just wait. - "Prove it to me what you better."
Five seconds of silence - the yellow cycles to green. And you sharply push the knob on the box forward in a split second, at the same time pressing the pedal to the floor. The wheels grind to a devilish speed, and I'm immediately sealed into the seat. It's pure madness, but I like it. The Audi pathetically "shooting" the exhaust pipe, being bumper to bumper with you again. At the last decisive meters, when the green circle blinks, as if saying goodbye for a while, and the "Dragon" on half a bumper rushes forward, you confidently pull the handle a little on itself, including the second gear, then - clutch, smooth wheel spin, gas. With a whistle of tires, you fly sideways behind the traffic light hanging from above, immediately leveling off to the proper lane and driving away, kicking up dust. The red Audi stays behind the red light, a little further away.
With the realization of the outcome, we yell something unintelligible to each other, me nearly bouncing out of my seat even though I'm buckled in, you, a five-finger running through your hair disbelievingly while the road is still empty.
"Wow, I definitely have one of the best carriages of all," I whisper half hoarsely, feeling the tight ligaments in my throat peppering.
"And yet not the best?" - you pout playfully, biting down on the bottom one so your smile doesn't give you away. Still too flighty and excited from the dose of adrenaline shooting through your bloodstream. - "I won, hey!"
"You won, but you didn't win against me," - I show you my tongue, sticking it exactly in the gap between my fangs, and you laugh childishly. There's no hint of resentment or anything like that on your face.
"So be it, Eilish." - You look distractedly at the rearview mirror, as if convincing yourself that this isn't all a figment of your imagination. - "So what about your wish?"
And here comes the prize for audience sympathy! Personal and unique, so long awaited.
"Remember my apartment in the apartments near the center?" - I place my hand back on your thigh, stroking extremely close, making you almost hiss, "Head over there, right into the underground parking lot."
×××
Passing the security checkpoint without the slightest problem, and pulling into the parking lot just out of camera range - good idea, great even. Unbuckling the seatbelts on both of us and getting my lips on yours before your mechanism hit the car wall with its metal detail was great. Ordering you, so panting and disheveled from my hands and lips, to move into the back seats right out of the front seats, following me is stunning in its uniqueness. You are sprinted by me to the back seat without any mercy or excuse, with your lips slightly swollen and reddened from biting. And I deeply don't care that we're somewhat cramped right now, perhaps that only plays to our advantage. I don't care because it's my wish, and you promised to fulfill it.
"You're crazy, you know that?" - Your gaze is so serious - pure surgical steel, but you're breathing intermittently and without noticing it you're fawning your body only closer to me, your legs in expensive pants spread wider, giving more space. - "Why don't you back off and pick something safer?"
Sitting on you in the small interior of Dodge: pure insanity. Hovering over you again and tongue leaving a lust-hot stroke on your neck, pulling back the collar of your thin white turtleneck: a complete breakdown of brakes and decency. But can't I be bad sometimes? Oh, yes, I can! Especially when there's a hot girl like you in my car.
"Can't take it back once it's been set in motion," - I clutch that most fucking licentious gold and massive chain in my fist, pulling you closer by it so you're sure to hear every word crystal clear in my whisper. - "Cause I like to do things God doesn't approve of if she saw us."
"Eilish, fuck...," - I rest my knee so shamelessly between your thighs, deliberately creating friction, and you melting, letting go of any moral guardrails, your face hidden behind your Artemis palm: fingers so thin and chiseled and beautiful, like you're a perfect portrait descended from the paintings of antiquity. Mine. So excited and almost swaggering.
"Girl, I'm going to drive you crazy," - I run the very tip of a fang along the curl of your ear, and you pant in heat, swallowing your own moan so obediently that my own thighs shake from the tension. Gently I wrap my fingers around your hand, moving my hand away from your face. - "Wanna see what you can take, take you right in the my car, such a deadly hot girl. Will you be obedient for me?"
"Yes," - you wheeze, clinging to my lips, and I allow it, only biting lightly. It seems like you're about to have bloody scratchy cracks on your lips as it is, my weakness. I leave a few hickeys on your neck, and I almost laugh as you purr a muffled moan: I think I'm getting too into the vampire role, don't you think?
I touch you just everywhere, every precious cell of your body, and you still don't beg: you endure and only occasionally look away from me, wishing you could find some respite to save your soul in this four-wheeled Purgatory that is more sinful than hell itself.
"You couldn't look away, look away, look away..." - I hum mockingly right in your face, grabbing your chin, but you only roll your eyes with the new thrust of my knee. You're so interesting to 'break', my dear, so unadulterated and interesting to me.
"She'd wanna get involved, involved, involved..." - you deftly parry my own sentence. A slight smirk flashes across your lips, and then I'm nearly folded in half when you thoughtfully shut my mouth with your hand and wedge your knee into the very point of infernal heat in my body. There, between my thighs.
"Slut..." - I feel the sweat begin to trickle down my forehead, and a bitchy smile spreads across my lips. You don't look away, staring straight into my irises, wanting to swim in those seas, to stay there forever. But I won't let you - I just can't do it without you. Your parched lips fold silently into "yours," and so hard tightens the knot of heat in my lower abdomen as if all five letters were belladonna petals.
Deftly I unbuckle your belt, pull the zipper tongue down and you instantly break down, no longer having any strength to continue this teenage game we're playing.
"I'm begging, Billie, please..."
Click! And you broke, just seconds before I would have lost all patience myself, pounding into you with fingers so frantic and selfless that you never dreamed. Good girl. And good girls should be encouraged, shouldn't they?
Already half-naked, you crawl back to the narrow window with your back to the max distance, and I slide down the seat to the opposite side with my feet on the floor. I run my hands over your absolutely uncovered thighs, touching them smoothly with my lips as if they were expensive velvet. You want to grab my hair with your hands, speeding up the process, but you stopped yourself so obediently that I personally place your hand on the back of my head-you deserve it.
I run my tongue between the hot petals, and you nearly bang your head on the roof, wanting to arch your body in a beautiful arc of pleasure. Your hands are tangled in my dark hair, and I'm just trying not to scratch you with my two snow-white "gothic blade", stolen from the photo shoot so successfully. The star-shaped grillz are so contrastly, it's so cold on your aroused clit at first, isn't it?
You cum even without fingers, too taken to extremes in foreplay. All I do is suck in the pot of your clit with my lips, and you do fly into the low ceiling of the car with your forehead, jerking from your orgasm too sharply. You squeeze your eyes shut in pain, barely able to recover again from the new wave of small shudders.
"Hey, hey, hey," - I'm settling in just as you do, pulling you closer to me, resting your head on my chest. Your feet dangle to the floor, but you don't seem to care. You only squint, trying to calm the mottled galaxy before your eyes, and poke your lips against my neck. - "Gently, be accurate, my girl."
You open your eyes, and you look at me so wildly, the word Fallen Angel on Alexander Cabanel's canvas. Madly, with burning eyes, with unknown power. You don't say a word only kiss endlessly, and with one hand you manage the thin Gucci belt and the zipper on my jeans. You enter with two fingers so unexpectedly and precisely that I would have left a hole in the roof with my head if you hadn't put your hand there in time.
"The Grammy Academy still needs some talented twists, careful," - you chuckle, but I'm just feverishly thrusting against your tense fingers, eager for release. I bite my lip until it's bloody, and the star-shaped grillz blinks silver. - "Nah, that won't do..."
You pull your fingers out, and I feel like crying or biting "vampire-style."
You slide down between my thighs, throwing my legs over your back as best you can by virtue of the space, and then you say, looking into my eyes with Edenic pleasure like you've tasted forbidden fruit:
"Beg me, Billie Eilish."
Click! And I break under you in my own car, burning with excitement.
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strwbnnie · 1 year
Text
chileee what is up with me & angst 😭 I was able to salvage this from my notes so I thought why not post it lol probably my first and last aot piece cause idk how to write them fr 😭 & sorry to the Reiner loves cause I wrote him so mean 😭
cw: fat shaming, fat phobia, best friend Eren, ex-boyfriend Reiner, mention of cheating, verbal abuse, mention of k!lling, friends to lovers, one sided pining, sorry if I missed anything!
Word count is undetermined but it’s not that long.
Eren hasn’t said a word to you since you arrived at his apartment, puffy eyed and soaking wet from the rain, just stepped out of the way and allowed you to walk in. 
You didn’t blame him, it’d been quite a while since the two of you had last spoken. Two or three weeks maybe, you couldn’t remember. It was difficult keeping track of time when your mind was slowly but surely shutting down. Either way it made you feel like shit. 
You wanted to to sit and talk to him but your first priority was getting out of those wet clothes. You went straight to his bedroom, closing yourself in the en-suite.
You let the shower run for a little bit, fogging up the room and hopefully drowning out your sorrow as you sit on the covered toilet, aimlessly scrolling. You checked the notifications on your phone, tapping around until you heard your ex-boyfriend’s voice projecting from the speakers. 
“Baby, just come back home. Please, let’s just talk about it.” “Hear me out, Y/N. I’m sorry okay, just come back.”
The way he was pleading you’d think he actually gave a damn about you.
“Come on Y/N,” There’s a short pause and a deep sigh. You know it’s coming. You hear the change in his tone, that false compassion and empathy has withered away. “Let’s face it, Y/N. Nobody’s gonna want you but me. Nobody’s into fat bitches. You’re lucky your face is cute. Nothing but a pretty face and a hole to fuck. Or should I say holes? I’m sure a slut like you takes it up the ass too-.”
Globs of hot tears ran down your face, budding at your chin and pooling on the screen of your phone. You deleted the nasty voice message Reiner left, only thirteen seconds into the minute and twelve second voice message, his harsh words breaking your heart all over again. 
The wound was still fresh and he did nothing but cut you deeper. Why was he like that???
Blocking his number so you wouldn’t receive anymore, you were ready to be done with this shit. Ready to heal from Reiner and all the bullshit he‘s put you through.
After your eyes are cried out and your skin is parched from the piping hot water, you finally exit. 
You didn’t leave with anything except your purse, phone and the clothes on your back, so you’re more than grateful to see a white tshirt and a towel on Eren’s bed waiting for you. The shirt was a little tight on your arms and the hem ended right at the cusp of your butt but it was better than nothing. 
The California King in his bedroom looked freshly made, plush and inviting, but you’d spent far too many nights alone in an empty bed while your so-called partner occupied another. You should’ve known that’s how it’d be when you decided to get yourself into a domesticated situationship with a narcissistic cheater.
You opted for the couch, where Eren was also sitting. He’s munching on a bowl of cereal watching some crime documentary. The atmosphere is dull, but it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be.
“Hey!”
He didn’t bother feigning the same excitement, sending nothing but a head nod you’re way but you’re still grateful to get something out of him.
Maybe he was annoyed, which he had every right to be. It was late as hell, around three in the morning, and you honestly felt a little bad. Showing up out of the blue and forcing him to share his space. 
“I really appreciate you letting me stay here, there were no rooms available anywhere.”
He ignored you, you figured he would. He hasn’t said much since you’ve been there. He’s treating you as if you’re a stranger, almost.
Unfortunately the documentary has lost all of his interest, he figured out the wife was the killer all along and there’s no reason to keep watching. 
Now he’s stretching out, manspreading if you will, with his legs cocked open. He’s sporting that same bored look, except now he’s on his phone watching TikTok’s with his volume obnoxiously loud.
Honestly, he didn’t even touch this app unless he was watching the shit ton of videos you sent him at some manic hour of the night. But right now he needed something to distract him. To distract him from everything only you made him feel.
“I get paid Friday, I can send you something once it’s deposited, my money lookin kinda funny right now so...” 
You’d spent close to your last getting an Uber to Eren’s. You weren’t sure why you even decided to come to Eren’s. Your parents lived in the same city and they probably would’ve been more welcoming than he was being right about now. 
“When have I ever asked you to pay me back for anything y/n?” 
His tone isn’t cold or mean, but indifferent. Like he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t. 
The tension is almost tangible, thick and suffocating.
“I know, but-“ You cut yourself off, stumbling over your words. Your throat is scratchy and your mouth dry. You didn’t know exactly what to say to mend things between you and your bestfriend. 
You hoped to pick up the pieces. Pickup where you left off like the two of y’all always did. But this here just showed how dumb and deluded you really were.
“I’m sorry…you were right.” You feel ashamed. Embarrassed even.
You can feel him staring at you, so you keep your eyes glued to your hands in your lap, twirling your thumbs in hopes to make amends. 
“What are you talking about, y/n?” You can feel his gaze boring into you.
“About Reiner…and every-everything else really. We not getting back together, forreal this time, I can’t.”
He was right about everything. Reiner was an immature asshole. You trusted his smooth talking, pretty smile and it backfired horrendously. 
Reiner was verbally abusive, insecure and mean, and he projected it without a care. Tore you down every chance he got, belittling you until you were almost an empty shell of your former self. 
On top of that, he was insensitive as hell, bullied you worse than any of those middle and high school nobodies you no longer remembered.
He’d probably use his last breath to lie, just because. If you were blind he’d tell you the sun was blue and the sky was yellow, for no reason whatsoever other than to be a dick. 
All of this Eren warned you about, but you just had to go and see for yourself. You fell for the first boy to show interest in you. The first to give you attention and affection. The first one who wasn’t looking to ‘try it out’ with a fat girl or looked at you like some pity case. 
So you thought. 
“You’ve said that before.”
“I know! But I mean it this time, and I’m so sorry for ghosting you and lying a-and putting him first before our friendship cause..I know you wouldn’t do that to me and I’m such an awful person-.”
Your sniffles turned into sobs, deep sobs that shook your entire body against his when he finally went against his stubborn ways and pulled you into a hug. 
You sound sincere, but Eren doesn’t know if he believes you. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time you lied to him about getting back with Reiner.
He wanted to tell you off. Scold you and yell at you for abandoning him. For giving him your ass to kiss cus you thought you were in love, only to come crawling back asking him to pick up the fucking pieces, again.
“I should’ve listened to you.”
Words muffled into his chest but he heard you. 
“You should’ve.” He doesn’t mean to sound condescending but it’s true. “I don’t like seeing you cry.” 
His voice startled you a little bit, velvety and deep, chest rumbling as he still had you pressed up against his frame. The aloof facade cracking with each sob. 
“I’ll handle it.”
He’d handle it. Handle him. 
His arms embraced you tighter. One holding you against him while the other ran down your back, over your thigh then back up again as he allowed you to bawl your eyes out.
“I hate when you talk like that Ren,” You leaned back to look at him. “You know I don’t like unnecessary viole-.” 
He grabs your face mid sentence, squishing your cheeks together, your lips round and pouty as you stared back at him. 
“How’s it unnecessary when my princess is sitting here with tears running down her pretty ass face?”
It slipped but he made no attempt to correct it.
His princess. He’d always called you a princess, especially when y’all were younger. He found it very intriguing how spoiled you were, especially by the men in your life. Dad, uncles, even Eren himself. 
He remembers saving up his little paychecks from working part time to spoil you as well, buying you little trinkets and gifts you probably didn’t even have anymore. 
Nothing was unnecessary when it came to his princess. He’d die for you. Kill for you, even. You were the light of his dim life. Why wouldn’t you just realize it?
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betweenlands · 11 months
Text
It takes exactly two seconds between Impulse looking up at the top of the Secret Keeper and him realizing what he's actually seeing up there to decide he is officially sick and tired of seeing ghosts.
There are seven entire ghosts around the thing today -- a couple appear to be tinkering with the secret delivery mechanisms. Impulse squints at them.
"What are you doing?" he says.
"Trying to figure out how to load more tasks into this thing," one of them replies, kicking one of the blocks with buttons on them. He's got a full beard and some weird green glowing mushrooms poking out of cracks in his face. It's definitely... a look, Impulse will give him that. Very Mycelium Resistance. "But whoever designed it used freakin' command blocks, and you can't even see the randomizer run."
"How many times did your randomizer break again?" one of the other ghosts calls from up on top of the Secret Keeper.
"Never!" the mushroom ghost protests, causing at least two other ghosts to crack up laughing. "It worked completely flawlessly except for user error."
One of the ghosts, someone who appears to have a floating cactus block for a head, snorts. "And programmer error."
"You shut it," the mushroom ghost responds.
"He's not wrong," the more normal-looking brown-haired ghost over by the command blocks says absently, purple eyes clearly focused on trying to trace the wiring back to the actual command blocks.
Impulse just stands there, bewildered -- both because the ghosts are actually talking to him, and also because these are extremely weird ghosts to be talking to who look nothing like anyone he's even vaguely heard of.
"Fine," he says, "you know what, I'll bite. Why are you guys here?"
"Checking in," a ghost sitting on one of the lower rocks says. He's wearing blue and yellow, looks to be a little more transparent than the others. "Y'know, new season and all that?"
Impulse squints at him. "No, I meant, why are you following me?"
"Ohhhh!" The ghost laughs. "Hadn't looked into what you were doing yet, and these guys wanted to see if they could get some of their tasks into the machine, so I just brought everyone along."
"That's not really a good answer," a ghost leaning inside the alcove under the Secret Keeper says. He's got a mask pulled up over his face, though his voice doesn't really sound muffled at all.
"What," the blue and yellow ghost says, "am I supposed to say something like it's because you're one of the people with no hard-and-fast thematic associations to stick to and therefore easier to facilitate a meeting with and freak him out more?"
Impulse squints harder. "Are you guys Watchers?"
The blue-and-yellow ghost snorts. "Hah! That's Martyn's lore, bud, not yours. Nope, nothing to do with the Watchers."
"Aren't you technically--" the ghost in the alcove starts.
"Tsssssshhhhhh," the other ghost replies by way of shushing him aggressively, "spoilers!"
"Alright," the alcove ghost says, spreading his hands in mock defeat, "fine, have it your way. He's right though. Not Watchers."
"Lowercase-w maybe," the brown-haired ghost still inspecting the redstone with the mushroom ghost says, "but otherwise, no."
Impulse is starting to feel like he's wandered into something way above his pay grade.
The alcove ghost snaps his fingers. Impulse notes somewhat absent-mindedly that he has, like, a lot of piercings on one ear. "Hey," he says, "come to think of it, we might be able to help you out with some stuff."
"I swear to God," another ghost says from on top of the Secret Keeper, "if you try to sell another person on your weird coffee god thing again-"
"I wasn't going to!" he responds. "Honest! I was just gonna say, it looks like there's a plains biome here, that means oxeye daisies, that means suspicious stew with regen if you can get a good source of mushrooms."
"Unfortunately," the mushroom ghost says, looking up from where he and the other ghost appear to now be trying to cram books into the ground, "the space for the hearts seems like it just kinda vanishes when people get hit. At least, if I'm not misunderstanding the programming."
"If you're misunderstanding the programming then we're both reading this code wrong," the brown-haired ghost says. "And I'm pretty sure I used something similar here for Dark Path stuff, so probably not?"
"Dang," the alcove ghost says, then tilts his head back towards Impulse. "Maybe make splash poison potions, then? That'll take out a good chunk of someone's health if they can't regen."
"He is green," the cactus-headed ghost says. "Why's he gotta make poison potions right now?"
A shrug in response. "Never hurts to prep early."
The blue-and-yellow ghost leans forward, squinting at him. "Alright," he says, "one of my wisps give you that idea or what?"
Another shrug. "I mean, what if they did?"
"Last time you started listening to his wisps," the brown-haired ghost says, "they told you to try and kill everyone just because I beefed it before the dragon fight."
"It would've worked if you hadn't warned them," the ghost in the alcove replies. "I can't believe you tried to sabotage my attempt at avenging you."
"I can't believe you listened to them in the first place," the blue-and-yellow ghost says. "They're bloodthirsty, they don't really give good advice."
"And I," Impulse says, having inched his way over towards the new task button, "am going to take my task and leave, because you guys are weird."
He hits the button and flips through the taskbook.
"End every sentence said to another player in a question?" he says, squinting down at it.
"You're already doing better than some of us were!" one of the ghosts on top of the Secret Keeper yells down.
"Oh my god, shut up!" the mushroom ghost yells back, and then turns to Impulse. "Hey, by the way, have you considered getting a pet parrot?"
"That's still a bad loophole and you know it," the blue-and-yellow ghost cuts in.
"I heard him just fine," the brown-haired ghost says. "Hey, hang on -- that's one of ours! It worked!"
Impulse decides he's not even going to bother trying to be polite about leaving. He has had entirely enough of these ghosts in particular.
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