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simp4wom3n · 2 years ago

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Ask Percy

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x singer!Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request

Summary: After filming, Jenna and Percy had become close, too close. Jenna started ditching plans with Y/n for Percy, causing Y/n to finally breakdown before they left on a month long tour. ~ Word Count: 4.024k ~ Warnings: swearing and quite angstyyy

A/N: Hi!! I actually loved writing this sm idek why. It is a majority angst with a happy ending because I will always avoid completely breaking someones heart x. Either way I hope you enjoy it <3

It wasn't often you got jealous, but when you have practically been replaced and deprived of spending the time you so craved with your girlfriend, the feeling was inevitable.

You and Jenna's schedules often meant that you had to spend long times apart from one another, which whilst it did put a strain on your relationship, it meant you would always spend every ounce of your free time together.

That had apparently changed.

Like today.

You were due to leave on tour in a few days, and the only thing you wanted to do was spend time with your girlfriend before you left for over a month. Yet as you sat at home, alone, with nothing better to do than pack your bags, it was obvious her priorities weren't the same as yours. Where was she you may ask? ask Percy.

Percy Hynes White, her costar and new best friend apparently. Ever since the two of them had wrapped filming 'Wednesday', they were practically attached at the hip, as Jenna's free time, which used to almost entirely consist of you, now predominantly consisted of Percy.

You had nothing against the guy. You had met him a few times and you could see why Jenna liked him. He was funny, charismatic, and just an overall kind person at heart. All the attributes that make him equally as terrifying to you, because as you saw it, it gave him the ability to sweep your girlfriend from right under you feet.

A slew of self-deprecating thoughts had been racing through your mind all day, leaving your girlfriend as your last resort in order to avoid a full-fledged breakdown. You just wished you had told her how you were feeling sooner because it felt like shite. Every time she left you alone for him, every time she told you a story about the two of them, every time her eyes lit up at the mention of his name, it felt like someone was slowly hacking away at your heart, each crack and break as slow and painful as the last.

Assuming Jenna would be home for dinner, you decided to try to unwind by cooking for just the two of you. You had always adored cooking and it was something the two of you often did together. Hence, whilst you were skilfully moving around the kitchen listening to music, a small smile grew on you face at the thought of your shared activities.

After finishing plating all the food and cleaning the kitchen, you grab your phone and noticed a new message from Jenna, instinctively causing your eyes to widen in excitement. The slight smirk that had made its way onto your face was soon washed away as it felt as if you were hit with a tidal wave as you read the message.

"Staying over at Percy's. Don't bother waiting up for me."

The colour dropped from your face as you lowered your phone in disbelief. You slumped against the countertop as all the noise around you faded, becoming an insistent buzz. 'Are you fucking kidding me' you thought as your disbelief soon turned into anger - you had officially been replaced. Dropping you phone on the bench, your fingers curl up tightly as your fists clench, your knuckles turning ghastly white as you hunch forward. You grunt as you let your back hits the wall, sliding down your kitchen cupboards until you come to a stop when you meet the floor. Your tense body goes limp as you sit there, tears starting to stream down your face as sobs begin escaping your throat.

You couldn't believe it. You were leaving in a few days and would be gone for over a month, and she didn't even have the decency to spend the time with you that you had begged her for. You felt nothing but disbelief as you brought your knees to your chest, resting your head on them as your sobs ceased, no longer bothering to feel the pain.

For once you felt almost excited to leave.

With all of your excitement and hope drained from your now exhausted body, you slowly stood up from your slumped position and grabbed your phone with your eyes and cheeks painted red from your tears and made your way to your bedroom. With the meal you had prepared going cold on the dining table, you stripped and changed into some more comfortable clothes before turning off the lights and collapsing into your bed.

As you laid your head on the pillow, your senses were instantly filled with her scent, her absence deepening the cracks in your already wounded heart. With exhaustion hot on your tail, you plugged in and opened your phone, the message reappearing as you rub your eyes to try and contain your tears.

"Ok"

You didn't have the energy to argue, or to get mad. At this point you had accepted your fate. If she wanted to be with Percy and not you than that was her choice. You just had to deal with it.

As Jenna got home late the next morning, it was eerily quiet. The usual echo of positivity that followed you everywhere you went was missing; instead, the energy felt bitter, which immediately concerned her. As she put her stuff down and walked further into the apartment, her eyes scanned your usual spots until she caught a glimpse of you, curled up in a chair on your small balcony, a cup of coffee cradled in your hands.

You had been sat there all morning just attempting to take your mind off of Jenna - which proved to be impossibly hard. As you sat still and moped, you watched as people, and painfully couples, went about their business on the city's busy streets. The sound of the balcony door opening didn't even phase you as your attention remained anywhere but on the person you knew was looking at you with querying eyes.

"What's going on?" Jenna asked as she made her way into your line of sight, instantly causing your eyes to burn with tears. "Nothing" you responded coldly as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "Is something wrong" you didn't respond, instead avoiding her stare as you stood up and briskly made your way inside. "Y/n? Hello?". Still no response. "Why are you ignoring me". You scoff at her choice of wording. "Why am I ignoring you?" you ask incredulously as she looks at you confused. "I'm the one who has been sat here, patiently waiting for you to come home and finally acknowledge my existence"

You can see that Jenna is taken back by your sudden outburst as she takes a few seconds to come back with a response. "I... what do you mean? am I not allowed to spend time with my friends or something?" "Of course you are!" your voice breaks as you cry "I understand that and I have been so patient... I was happy to let you do your thing as long as you at least came home to me. You deprived me of the one thing I asked for and all for fucking Percy.". You can't help but feel bad for getting mad at her, but at this point your emotional pillage is coming pouring out whether you like it or not.

"I don't get why you are so mad! Just because your my girlfriend doesn't mean I have to spend every waking hour with you!" "Because I'm leaving for over a fucking month tomorrow and you don't even care!" At this point your tears are streaming down your cheeks as your chest aches. Running her hand through her hair, Jenna turns her back to you as she takes a deep breath. "Jesus fucking christ Y/n. Maybe I should date Percy." Your head snaps up as your eyes widen and brows furrow.

"What..." you brokenly whisper. "Maybe I should date fucking Percy Y/n... does that make you feel better?!?" turning around to meet your eyes, hers looking dead serious, terrifying you. "Your joking right?" you practically beg as your arms slowly wrap around your torso as you seek any kind of comfort. "Am I? Because after this fiasco I'd bet he'd be a better partner."

At that your heart shatters. Any last ounce of hope you had left was thrown out the window. "Right" you nod swiftly, biting you lip in an attempt to contain your sobs. "I guess I won't get in your way then". Walking towards your front door, you slip on some shoes and a coat open the door. With tears still running down your face, you look back at Jenna who remains frozen to her spot, one hand on her forehead and the other on her hip, before she turns and walks away from you.

You were secretly hoping she would stop you from leaving yet here you were, one foot already out the door. With a sigh you grab your keys before locking the door behind you. Your destination? you had no idea. All you knew was anywhere but here.

The sun had set hours ago and you were yet to come home. Jenna tried to act like she didn't care, seeing as she was the reason you left, but her attempts to distract herself were futile as you were at the forefront of her mind - admittedly for the first time in a while.

She jumped slightly as she heard the front door swing open, her eyes immediately darting in its direction. You entered silently with slumped shoulders, discarding your coat and keys as you slip off your shoes. You glance at Jenna with a neutral expression on your face before you walk towards your bedroom. "Where have you been?" despite feeling she had no right to ask, she still cared about you whether you believed it or not. "Why the fuck do you care" you reply coldly as you walk straight past her without uttering another word, Jenna sighing softly as the weight of what she said to you sinks in.

You were hurting and it was her fault.

She decides to give you a few minutes by yourself, also not particularly keen to face you after your earlier screaming match. She eventually follows you to the bedroom where she finds you curled up on your side of the bed, completely silent and still. "Y/n?" she gently whispers as she enters the room, receiving no response in return, leading her to presume you were asleep.

But how could you be? Since you left, you had spent the remainder of the day walking aimlessly, making a few pitstops at your favourite places to try and entertain yourself and help get your mind off of your (ex?) girlfriend. So sure, you were tired. Yet the moment you set foot back into your apartment, your mind transformed back into a racing track as all of your thoughts competed for your attention - and yet you didn't want to pay attention to any of them.

So here you lay in complete silence, your mind blank, attempting to ignore Jenna's warm presence besides you. You heard her whisper your name yet you had absolutely no desire to look at her, let alone speak to her. So, as you felt her get in bed beside you, an uncomfortable amount of space between your two typically entwined bodies, you stared at the wall in front of you until you were eventually overwhelmed with exhaustion.

As streaks of sunlight sneak through the small gaps between the dark curtains, Jenna stirs awake, exhaling as she rubs her eyes in an attempt to rid the evidence of her sleepless night. As she rolls onto her back she is suddenly aware of the lack of your presence, your side of the bed left empty and cold. As she warily pushes herself up, she notices a number of draws open, causing her brows to furrow in confusion as she pushes the bed covers off and swings her legs off the bed.

Gently standing up, her hands running through her hair in an attempt to tame it, she walks tentatively out the open bedroom door. As she makes her way through your apartment, her eyes widen as she notices a number of packed bags by the doorway. 'Is she leaving me' is the thought running through her head as she starts to search the apartment more desperately, eventually locating you on the balcony - apparently your new place of comfort.

"Your leaving?" are the first words that leave her mouth as she joins you on said balcony. Currently leaning on the railing peacefully admiring the cityscape, you scoff as you turn your head towards her, a look of disbelief and disappointment on your face. "Seriously?". You realise she clearly hadn't remembered causing you chuckle in disbelief as you turn around, resting your back on the railing. "My tour?" It dawns on her as the colour drains from her face, a look of embarrassment spreading quickly. "Yeah that little old thing. I don't even know why I'm surprised you forgot." Scoffing again you walk past her, gently bumping into her as you make your way to the front door.

"Y/n wait" Jenna calls out to you, hot on your tail as you choose to ignore her. As you reach your bags and start putting some on, she attempts to stop you as she grabs ahold of your arm and forces you to face her. Despite the past few days, her touch still sends shivers down your spine as you inhale sharply whilst you look at her blankly, her eyes pleading with you to stay. "There's a car waiting for me Jenna. I have to go." you speak softly as you gently pry her hand off of your arm, turning back around to open the door.

She is frozen to the spot, unable to speak as her eyes begin to brim with tears. She wraps herself in a hug as she watches you collect your bags, her right hand coming up to cover her mouth in an attempt to keep her sobs at bay. As you take a step out the door, you look over your shoulder with solemn eyes as you reach for the handle. "Goodbye Jenna." you whisper, a slight break in your voice which you attempt to conceal. You give her one last soft smirk as you close the door.

Goodbye... you said goodbye. Not see you later, but goodbye. 'Fuck' Jenna mutters as the door locks, attempting to blink away her tears as she turns away in shock. Her breathing is uneven as she soaks in everything that has happened over the past 24 hours. Her seemingly perfect world had erupted into pure chaos. Whilst there was still a part of her that was denying it, she knew it was her fault.

You were her girlfriend, the love of her life, and she blew you off as if you were completely unimportant and irrelevant. Her emotions were drowning her as she collapsed on the couch, her head resting on her hands as her tears continued to stream from her eyes. Her own words echoed in her head as her life continued to come crashing down on her. She had fucked up. Badly.

She had to make it up to you. She had to see you.

The barren and monotonous landscape that surrounded the highway sped past you as you stared out the window of your tour bus. Your thoughts matching the whirring of the outside world as you attempt to drain them out with your music blasting in your noise-cancelling headphones.

Jenna. She was all you could think about. No matter what you saw, whether it be a sign to a place you had visited or an advertisement for one of her many projects, and no matter what song you listened to, whether it was one that reminded you of her or that you often listened to together, it was all about her.

Ever since you met Jenna, you knew she was the one. You had no other way of describing it, you just knew. Everything about her was perfect. The two of you complimented each other perfectly and she had instantly become your best friend before you grew the guts to ask her out - easily the best decision you had ever made.

Yet as you thought back on all of this, you couldn't help the tears that fell. You truly had believed that she was the one. Not only was she the best girlfriend you could ever have asked for, but she was also your best friend. And yet, it would appear you have been replaced in both categories.

So, as you sat alone in a bus full of your bandmates, the landscape flashing past reflecting how your relationship similarly flew by, you hastily wiped the tears that had fallen upon your cheeks as you leant back in your chair accepting what you had believed to be true.

You had lost your everything.

The cheers of the crowd is echoing in your ears as you aimlessly pace around backstage. The first concert of a tour was always the most daunting, yet this one was easily the most terrifying as you brain continued to run a million miles a minute. With your music beginning to play and getting the signal to walk on, you suck in one last breath before you stride out on to the stage, a large smile plastered on your face - fake or real? you had no idea

As you sung your usual setlist, it proved to thankfully be a great distraction from the thoughts and emotions that awaited you off the stage.

The audience erupted in loud cheers as the beginning of one of your hit songs, 'Romantic Homicide', started to play. You'd written it years before meeting Jenna, shortly after being cheated on by your previous partner. When you produced it, you were in a very dark place, one that Jenna had helped you get out of. However, as you stood on stage, bright lights shining in your eyes and cheers echoing in your ears, your heart couldn't help but ache as you realised the song was beginning to reflect your relationship with Jenna.

I'm scared

It feels like you don't care

As you started to sing the lyrics, the waves of emotion washing over you, you look out into the crowd as you pour your heart and soul into the song. As you scan the crowd, your eyes catch a familiar face within the mosh, and as you take a double take, your heart simultaneously soars and drops.

Enlighten me, my dear

Why am I still here?

Jenna was in the crowd and looking directly at you. As your eyes met hers, she gave you a small sad smile as she slowly swayed to the music. What you couldn't tell however was that she was thinking the same as you. As your lyrics echo in her ears, her heart skips a beat as she too realises that the lyrics suddenly seem all to familiar.

I don't mean to be complacent with the decisions you made

But why?

She watches as you rip your eyes off of her, instead deciding to look out to the general crowd, and as you do so, a tear slips down her cheek. She remembers vividly the state you were in when she met you

Rock bottom.

When she had first heard the song she was in disbelief as to how someone could have made you feel this way. When she had helped you heal, she had sworn to never let you reach that state again.

Yet here she was.

In the back of my mind

You died

And I didn't even cry

No, not a single tear

And I'm sick of waiting patiently for someone that won't even arrive

After spotting Jenna amongst the crowd, your emotions were almost impossible to contain, yet as you continued to sing, you channelled all of your frustration and sadness into the lyrics. Watching the crowd be simultaneously overcome with emotion, you risked a glance in Jenna's direction. As the stage lights gently reflected on her face, you could see the tears that ran down her cheeks. Whilst you felt some gratification in seeing her emotional, your heart also clenched at the sight.

In the back of my mind

I killed you

And I didn't even even regret it

I can't believe I said it

But it's true

I hate you

Walking off the stage and into your changing room, the cheering slowly fading in the background, you take a deep breath as you try to compose yourself, your heart racing and head spinning as you clock that Jenna was actually here. Why was she here?

Just as that question came to mind, you heard a soft knock at your door. Your heart dropped at the thought of who it could be. Unsure as to whether you wanted it to be her or not, you opened the door slowly, revealing your girlfriend. Your breath instantly hitched in your throat as you took in her figure.

Dressed in a pair of loose suit pants and a casual blazer on top of a white tee, she nervously stood in front of you as she fidgeted with her hands. "Can I come in?" she asked meekly. "Yeah" you sighed as you stood to the side and gestured her in. She hesitantly walks in, her eyes taking in the decor of the room as she makes her way towards your small couch. She timidly takes a seat as her eyes continue to seemingly avoid you.

"What are you doing here?" leaning against your vanity, you break the tense silence as she finally looks at you, tears evident in her eyes. "I came here for you" she speaks tentatively after a moment. "That's a first" you faintly scoff as you rub a hand across your face. You hear her take a laboured breath at your response before she stands up and hesitantly walks towards you, attempting to find your eyes with hers.

"Y/n...I came here for you, and that's the truth." she whispers as she stops just in front of you, her hands twitching in temptation to touch you. You suck in a sharp breath as you lift your head up, tears slowly falling as you finally let them slip. She hesitantly reaches a hand up to your cheek, very gently wiping away your tears, when, to her surprise, you lean into her touch.

"I fucked up... I hurt you... and I made you feel as though you didn't matter to me." her cries starting to obstruct her apology. "But you do. You mean so fucking much to me and I... I don't know what I would do without you a-and I don't want to even think about what I would do.". At this point she is sobbing as you reach your hand to grasp her spare one, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I shouldn't have ignored you like that I... I should never have made that comment about dating Percy I would never do that. I don't see him like that I promise... I would never do that to you Y/n I swear." Your heart clenched at her words. She knew she fucked up and that was enough for you - after all you were equally to blame. Having enough of her desperate yet oddly adorable rambling, you wrap her in a crushing embrace to which she instantly melts into. She hides herself in the crook of your neck as she continues to sob, whispering "I'm sorry"s into you as you cradled her head.

With her arms wrapped tightly around your waist, you bury your head into her shoulder as you bathe in the comfort that her presence brings. "It's ok" is all you say as her sobs cease into sniffles, your shirt wet with her tears. "I love you, it's ok" "Thank y-you. I love you so m-much" you squeeze her tighter at her words, not willing to let go anytime soon.

Tag-list: @nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega request #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega fluff #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday imagine #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams x reader #percy hynes white #jenna ortega jealousy #romantic homicide #wednesday addams request #simp4wom3n

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 2 months ago

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Leo Valdez x Reader Headcanons

A/N: This has been in my drafts now for MONTHS... I gotta start posting these more often and stop constantly posting Saw XDDD

Pronouns for reader: They/Them (gender-neutral)

Relationship type: Platonic

General Idea: I never see any HCs where the reader and Leo are just bros. So I'm gonna do the world a favor.

Content Warnings: Just two goofy goobers being goofy goobers together :)

Leo and (Y/N) met through the Wilderness School.

Neither of them really remember what sparked a conversation between the two of them, but soon they became attatched at the hip.

Even when Coach Hedge or another instructor split them apart, they'd instantly go back to each other. Kinda like they were magnets. So instructors gave up trying to separate them.

(Y/N) also completely indorses Leo's joking habits and even partakes in some of the pranks and tomfoolery.

They also both went to Camp Half-Blood together.

(Y/N) wasn't one of the seven, but they did help Leo build the Argo II (and by helping, I mean occasionally handing Leo tools he needed... but mostly just keeping the boy company).

Leo, during this time, also opened up about his mom and what happened with her, the foster system, and all the underlying worries he had.

(Y/N), being Leo's closest friend, comforted him through the whole thing. Listening to every word.

In return, Leo also listened to whatever issues (Y/N) had in their past. [If you don't have any past issues/trauma, then just imagine current issues]

After the whole Prophacy of Seven was over and (Y/N) got the news that Leo wasn't coming back. They became angry at Leo for dying, but never replaced him in their heart. In their mind, Leo was their best friend. You couldn't just... REPLACE Leo.

When Leo got back? When I tell you that (Y/N) chewed out Leo so hard that it made Ares seem like a big softy? I truly mean it.

The whole scolding lasted over 4 hours. It made Annabeth seem like the most lenient camper of all time.

Afterwords, however. It was back to the usual duo's shenanigans.

Once again, they were attatched at the hip.

Movie nights galore! So many! I'm 100% convinced that Leo would've been a FNAF kid if his timeline would've allowed it. So y'all would definitely watch the FNAF movie, Breakfast Club, Nacho Libre, so many epic movies.

Y'all would also quote them, too. All. The. Time. Sometimes, you two would just bounce movie quotes off of each other for a solid 15 minutes (fun fact: this is called echolalia, it's a form of stimming that some ADHD people can expirence)

I feel like the two of them would try to take a few random classes that Camp had to offer, just to try something new... but ditch it a few days later.

If Leo tries something... (Y/N) also does to. Every job is a two person job with those two. Even if it's something as simple as lunch. If they can do it together, they 100% will.

They'd definitely have a little book with all the stupid shit they'd say. Like their own little quote book.

Leo is definelty a LEGO guy, and the two of them would definitely have LEGO nights. Like the LEGO death star? They built it in 5 hours. They will sometimes get so focused on their project that they'll look out the window and the sun is already out... they started at 8pm...

Y/N would definitely try to teach Leo some activities surrounding their godly parent. And Leo would do likewise. Of course, the two of you both suck at the other's activities. But it's fun so who cares?

I feel like they call eachother the most stupid crap sometimes, each more ridiculous than the next. JUST to confuse people.

Like: "Hello damp kitchen towel!" "Oh hey dehydrated eggplant, what's up?"

Definitely shares music with each other. Half of the music he listens to now? That's (Y/N)'s doing. And likewise for them.

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x reader headcannons #headcannons #platonic relationships #fanfics #fanfiction #trials of apollo #rick riordan #camp half blood

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fruitysimsy · 4 months ago

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Love on the Ranch entry

Here's my sim for #loveontheranch by @snderist

Eloise Coleman grew up traveling with her parents because of her dad's job as a food blogger. Her senior year of high school her father passed, and her mother moved them to Brindleton Bay. In her free time she enjoys photography, reading, and caring for the stray animals in her neighborhood. She shows her love for her friends and family through food, and her best friend would describe her as a golden retriever. Girly isn't afraid to get dirty and will try everything once. Her ideal date would be an outdoor activity like ice skating (or horseback riding) and then going back home for a meal she made just for them. Eloise is excited about the prospect of finding her forever person in Asher! (custom content used and gallery ID under the cut)

Custom content all outfits: skin tone skin detail (+ MsBlue skinset) eyebrows (thin) rings (couldn't find the link to the ones in the photos, replaced with these) eyes lip preset nose preset butt slider hip shape slider (I didn't even use the sliders, added them just in case though) teeth override (BGvampiresmore) tattoo everyday: eyeshadow (outfit 1) eyeshadow (outfit 2) lashes (NO1 glasses conflict) hair blush earrings necklace outfit 2 shoes 1 (same as formal) shoes 2 (daisy flower flat sandals) formal: eyeshadow lashes eyeliner blush hair (V3) earrings shoes (couldn't find the original ones, switched to the same as everyday 1) dress

Gallery ID: fruitysimsy

#loveontheranch #sonderist #bachelor's competition #sims 4 competition #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 challenges #fruitysimsy #love on the ranch #love on the ranch entry

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pepsiiwho · 5 months ago

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That a very vivid dream of nothing so have rock Lee fic ideas, might make this a one shot

Originally I was gonna do sm dealing with the prompt “Lee is tasked with locating Naruto (and sasuke, as they are attached at the hip) and “neutralizing” him— preferably in the field and without significant retaliation” because I find the concept of Lee being taken seriously as a ninja and possible machine of incredible, pointed violence, or an expendable tool of the machine that can easily be replaced, either works— to be very very compelling. In this story it would be Lee and probably shikamaru because I think it’s funny to put the apathetic one with the hair’s trigger for a reflex.

But digressing, it would explore Lee’s relationship with being a ninja, an object of violence and warfare. He’s never been anything else and everyone he knows is one as well, but the violence has only been funneled outward to the ‘enemy’ not towards someone from his own home base. Would that stir something in him? (Yes). Would he struggle with the moral guilt? (Yes). Would he complete his mission? (Yes, to the detriment of his psyche).

I want to watch him squirm. Worse, I want to watch him have to go through his ex-gaara to get to Naruto. More feelings come from that.

This version of Lee is stuck to his duty, to his fighting and the personality that is so deeply tied to fighting. He’s formed himself around this identity, this need to prove himself and ‘better’ himself through strength and there’s no natural way to do that without moral discomfort when you’re being used to worsen lives. In this bad end Gai probably died in the war, or whatever (hand waves) and he’s reeling writhing that constant there. He’s obviously aged out the system and works as a remarkable ninja and has money and a support system, or enough of one, but that doesn’t replace gai or fill the hole. Shrugs. I so love my doomed guys

But I’m thinking instead of something so deeply canon divergent I think a small character study on Lee and possible resentments he’d have to his peers and friends and how they interact with him. Making all my favs resentful is like a reward idk. They deserve to feel bitter, even if only fleetingly. Maybe this can come at the hands of Gaara asking something something to the effect of “how are you not mad at me?” And Lee responding “… I think I’m just mad at everyone” and it branching off from there.

(Projection and AU levels of extrapolation incoming) He isn’t allowed the agency to be too mad usually, not even just bc of his own self restraint, he’s an orphaned child with little to himself— he has to keep himself in line and do his best lest he lose his father figure or his teammates or his work or whatever, so on so forth. It’s as much an active thing as it is a trauma response and way for him to preserver. Sigh

My fucking thingie….

#rock lee #gaalee #naruto #the funnies

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sloanesallow · 8 months ago

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Charmed

This is a re-work of some old fanfic, written for the "Lucky Charm" event on the HL Discord server. Just some Ominis banter, Quidditch playing Sebastian and an MC who won't admit her feelings. SFW | 2k words [Read on Wattpad] - [Masterlist]

On the afternoon of tryouts, Sloane sits in the high-rise stands, using an old pair of binoculars to view the players as they gather on the field below. Ominis is at her side, darkened glasses perched on his nose to protect his eyes from the sun. If he had it his way, he wouldn’t be there at all–but both made a promise to their friend to attend for “moral support”.

When the school year started, it was Headmaster Black’s full intention to continue the ban on Quidditch, for reasons unspecified. After a month of pestering from Madam Kogawa and the prospective players, he finally relented and begrudgingly allowed the sport to resume. Sloane pays the notices no mind, still too afraid of flying to have a desire to play. It was surprising when Sebastian announced his intent to join, looking for a healthy distraction. It would be, in his words, a positive change from last year’s extracurricular activities.

And so, instead of spending the morning studying for the upcoming Charms exam, she is observing, trying and failing to make sense of how exactly Quidditch is played. It doesn’t take very long before she finds herself focusing on one person in particular. Sebastian is on the field, waiting for his turn on Imelda’s test circuit. Sloane isn’t brave enough to tell him in person, but he looks rather dashing in the uniform, standing confidently amongst the nervous hopefuls.

The outfit makes her realize just how much he’s grown over the summer, broad shoulders filling out his clothes, lanky limbs replaced with toned muscle. Every day he seems that much taller than her, grinning when he has to tilt his head down to meet her eyes. There is still a hint of boyish charm in his face, but nearly all the cute baby-fat has disappeared from his cheeks, leaving a handsome man instead.

Sloane ponders the changes to her own body and how awkward the process is. She knows her hair has started to grow out, the ash-blonde waves reaching past her shoulders, long enough now for a small braid. While she hasn’t gotten any taller, she’s had to replace most of her wardrobe when her bust seemed to slightly increase in size overnight, the new curve to her hips harder to hide beneath her skirts. Puberty is mentally exhausting, too, with how unexpectedly wild her emotions become. One thing she did not expect is how hopelessly boycrazy she feels, and how it sends her usual anxiety soaring.

What little knowledge she has about romance has been gleaned from novels, Jane Austen and Emily Bronte filling her childhood bookshelf. They make it seem so easy and effortless, when in reality, falling in love is terrifying, embarrassing, and potentially maddening. But it could also be exciting and delightful, the swirling of butterflies in her stomach making it feel as if she is in a perpetual state of floating.

Though, she isn’t in love yet, is she?

Ominis hums, sounding amused. “Surely there must be something more interesting than Sebastian to focus your attention on.”

How does he do that? Sloane lowers the binoculars to peer at him. “Are you teasing me?”

A small smirk breaks through his usual stoic expression. “Now why would I do that?”

Sloane softly chuckles, enjoying this cheeky side to Ominis, more frequent now that the chaos of fifth year is (mostly) behind them. In building a new foundation for their friendship, he’s become more relaxed around her, allowing her to see the personality that made him Sebastian’s best mate and closest confidant. Ominis has also changed since they first met, sharpened features hinting at the man he’ll soon be. He’s sprouted up too, and to Sebastian’s dismay, will likely be the tallest of their group by the end of the school year. Conventionally speaking, he is very handsome–pretty even, and Sloane wonders if Ominis knows it. Where Sebastian is indifferent about his appearance, Ominis is pristine in presentation, not a single hair out of place. She wonders if there are any potential suitors he’s been keeping secret.

“I want to ask you something, but I don’t want it to come off as intrusive, or rude,” Sloane starts. Ominis nods, silently urging her to continue. “How do you know if you are attracted to someone?”

His eyebrows lift in curiosity. “Romantically? Are you asking me specifically, or generally?”

“Perhaps a little of both,” she answers. “I know that physical attraction isn’t the most important thing when choosing a partner, but–”

“How could I possibly tell the difference between a great beauty and a dud?”

Sloane rolls her eyes, “you don’t have to put it that way.”

“Honestly, with no frame of reference, I find whatever preferences I may have are tied more closely to someone’s aura, their personality,” he explains with a sigh, tilting his head to the side in thought. “I was still a young boy when I taught myself how to read speech patterns. You can learn a lot about someone’s character by the way they speak.”

“I suppose it’s a cliche to assume you’d want to touch someone’s face to learn their features, correct?”

“That’s…far too intimate,” Ominis shakes his head. “I may not be able to tell you what color your eyes are, or if you have dimples, but over the years and with the help of my wand…if I focus well enough, I can envision what someone’s expression is during conversation. Though, I don’t need it now to know you are smiling.”

Sloane feels a tad bit shy. “That’s…remarkable, Ominis.”

“I try,” he chuckles. “Sebastian says you have a very pretty smile. I’m inclined to believe him.”

“Flatterer,” she murmurs, blushing as she flicks her gaze back over the railing to try and spot their friend. “Sebastian really said that?”

“He says a lot about you,” Ominis doesn’t elaborate, his expression untelling.

Sloane playfully swats his arm, prompting him to laugh. Curiosity be damned, she wants to know more. “You’re friends with Sebastian—”

“Regrettably,” he interjects, humorously. “You are, too.”

“Yes, but you’ve known him longer,” she drags her teeth across her bottom lip. “What can you tell me about his past…liaisons?”

“Pardon?”

Oh, this is a mistake. Sloane feels the embarrassment spread–this isn’t the same as giggling gossip sessions in the Hufflepuff common room, where the other girls excitedly share stories of stolen kisses and raunchy letters. Not that she ever actively participates–the only kisses she experiences are the ones in her dreams.

“Oh. I understand,” Ominis says, cutting through her thoughts. “It’s quite comical, actually, how Sebastian’s reputation has been blown out of proportion when it comes to liaisons,” he mimics her, but waves his hand in dismissal. “He is no Lothario. As long as I’ve known Sallow, he has never shown any interest in courting anyone, preferring to break curfew in the library than out sneaking around with a giddy skirt. Especially after Anne got sick, the last thing on his mind was romance”

“The gossip-grapevine is not true, Siobhan. Whatever you may have heard,” Ominis assures. “Trust me, Sebastian would’ve jumped at the first opportunity to tell me if he was experienced, regardless of my objections.”

Sloane can feel the heat radiating off her face. Does that mean Sebastian is still uninterested? Has she been misinterpreting their closeness for something entirely platonic? She almost regrets bringing it up in the first place. “I…don’t know what to say.”

“If it makes you feel better, his laissez faire attitude has gradually disappeared over the last year,” he offers. “Just about when you arrived.”

“Me?”

Ominis half-shrugs as if to say obviously. At least that’s what Sloane wants to believe. Is he insinuating that Sebastian likes her? Does Sebastian want something beyond innocent friendship? She doubts Ominis would imply such a thing unless there is some truth to the matter. But his lack of clarity makes her wonder if she should not press the issue, and just let nature take its course, so to speak. It is a lot to process, considering she is still trying to figure out if her feelings are more than just a school-girl crush.

The tone shifts and Ominis turns his head towards her–it’s the most he can do without being able to make direct eye contact. “He is like my brother. He is my chosen family, for better or worse. I have no love lost for my Gaunt relatives, and if I’ve learned anything in the last year, it is that I will always be loyal to Sebastian.”

It takes a moment for Sloane to respond, softly smiling. “Are you…telling me not to hurt him?”

“Not exactly. My hope is that Sebastian doesn’t completely fumble the situation that is slowly presenting itself. Not again,” Ominis states, mirroring her expression. “I’m rather fond of you, Siobhan. It will be good for Sebastian to have some…good in his life.”

Oh. Sloane perks up, realizing what he means. Her mind races, imagining a hundred different scenarios, wondering what exactly Sebastian has been revealing to his friend, intentionally or not. What else does Ominis know? Before she can ask, a flash of green whizzes by, circling around their heads and the perimeter before hovering just out of reach near the railing.

Sebastian flashes a wide mouthed grin, laughing as he removes his padded helmet and shakes out his hair. Sweat curls the ends even more than usual, chocolate-brown strands sticking to his forehead. His freckles are more prominent in the sunlight and Sloane wonders how long it would take to trace each one with her fingertip. She shakes the thought from her mind, forcing her own bashful smile. She prays her cheeks aren’t as red as she imagines.

“Enjoying yourself?” she asks, standing up and carefully leaning against the railing to be closer.

“I forgot how thrilling it is to fly,” Sebastian answers, breathless and excited. “Are you sure I can’t take you for a ride?”

Sloane bites the tip of her tongue as Ominis stifles a snicker, both catching the unintended innuendo. At least she hopes it is unintended–she’d feel scandalized otherwise. “I–I’m sure.”

“Rain check, then…” Sebastian’s smirk is frustratingly handsome. He glances down at the field below. “We’re about to run the course one last time, then Imelda will post her decisions in a few hours. Given how much she already dislikes me, I was wondering if either of you had a good luck charm handy.”

“Yes, because I regularly keep such trinkets on my person,” Ominis sarcastically replies.

“Just make one!” Sebastian argues.

“That defeats the purpose!”

“Not if you charm it correctly!”

“Correctly? What do you take me for, an incompetent first-year?”

Sloane sighs at their bickering and searches her belongings for something that can be easily charmed and worn. With a quick tug she removes the short, silk tie from her shirt collar and readies her wand. The two look on with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, understandable given her magic’s recent instability. But a good luck charm is simple enough, right?

The first flick of her wand produces nothing. She anxiously laughs and reins in her focus, whispering under her breath. If you don’t work and provide the good luck Sebastian needs, I’ll break you in half and take you back to Olivander—

Another swish and a shimmer coats the fabric, disappearing with a blink. Sloane silently thanks whatever forces came through for her. “Ta-da!”

Sebastian maneuvers his broom closer to the stands, extending his arm to her. She nervously pushes up his sleeve just enough to wrap the golden fabric around his wrist, tying it off with a small knot. His gloved fingers trail against her forearm and she wonders if he can feel the rapid pattern of her pulse. It isn’t until he flexes his hand and looks down at the makeshift charm that she is reminded of the fairy tales she read growing up, in which gallant knights asked beautiful princesses for favours before battle.

There is a different kind of shine to his eyes as he gazes at her, lips slowly curling into a smile. “Thank you.”

As she watches Sebastian fly away, she notices Ominis regarding her with an all-knowing expression. “You’re never getting that back.”

“I know.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x f!mc #fanfic

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imgonzoingrightnow · 8 months ago

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BEETLEJUICE GRAVEYARD REVUE AU!!!!! (With art)

Im not very active on here anymore but to those that follow me on Twitter uh you know im #normal about the beetlejuice graveyard revue and I’ve been working on an au for this niche universal show for the past month.

@nothisisntmyname @sadslasher13

Before we start idk if you all know what this show is so in simplest terms the Beetlejuice Graveyard Revue is a theme park show that ran in the Universal parks from 1991-2016 (in the US). In the show, Beetlejuice puts on a rock and roll show featuring the Universal Monsters HOWEVER, given that they are monsters and not hip cool rock and rollers, BJ transfunkafies the monsters into rockstars for the show (with the audiences help)

The monsters included in the show originally are:

• Dracula

• Frankenstein’s monster

• The Bride of Frankenstein

• The Wolfman

• The Phantom of the Opera

Further down the line Erik was removed and replaced with Hip and Hop, and later, Cleopatra and Phantasia. However, in this AU it’s just gonna be this set of monsters (with some appearances by Hip and Hop)

below are some links with videos about it teehee:

youtube

ANYWAY. THE AU. what if beetlejuice turns the universal monsters into rockstars, as per usual, but he can’t turn them back to normal afterwards. So BJ being BJ is like KACHING so he becomes their manager/ring leader and they become like an official touring band.

All the monsters retain their memories and characteristics in this change, but they get new skills and slight changes in personality in order to fit this star power vibe. They’re like chemically engineered rockstars.

Drac is like the gay emo cousin and that’s the best way I can describe it he’s always hungry always trying to bite someone you tell him to stop and he’s like “oooHHHH MY gOoOOdAAH”. Hip and Hop are like their groupies!

One time they forgot Dracula at like a pitstop and he did hard drugs, got 7 tattoos he couldn’t pay for, killed 4 people and injured 12, he also fucked some bitches and sucked a ton of blood. they picked him up later that day

Frankie is very nice and not very bright and Drac and BJ especially like messing with him. The bride is the defacto leader if Beetlejuice isn’t there. Bride is the most levelheaded one that’s why she’s the leader and they all listen to her cause a. She’s hot b. Yeah she seems to know what she’s talking about c. Feminism!

Bride and Frank are both not very bright but Bride is really confident and logical so she can figure things out quicker but she and Frankie still do little homeschool lessons sometimes. I think it’d be lessons from BJ but they’re all horribly distorted so Erik has to come and be like no no stop omfg. BEETLEJUICE. YOURE GONNA GIVE THEM STDS… LOWER YOUR HAND FRANKIE. They’re also few and far between cahse BJ doesn’t care and forgets also. If they’re bickering (Phantom and BJ) Bride and Frankie read up on their own (if they care) and help each other.

Wolfie is not allowed alone because if you leave him alone for too long he will destroy the furniture. He’s usually with Beetlejuice, if not he’s with the #gang if not he’s with hip and hop but he’s not allowed alone

Beetlejuice and the phantom are basically the ones in control most of the time (they are married) (they aren’t) (they might as well be) this is where the feminism comes in although phantom would be second in command if beetlejuice wasn’t there. hes a sort of a cryptic fellow (he’s also very dramatic) anyway he’ll just do his own thing UNLESS someone touches him the wrong way then he’s like the dramatic ass we know and love and he’ll be just immature as the rest of them. My boys also been trying to not be as much of a dick to women and he also likes bride cause who doesn’t. so he likes that she’s the one taking the lead if not him.

Also on phantom being the only one with a license it’s really funny cause his song has that car thing going on. frank shouldn’t be anywhere near a wheel, bride does not know or care to drive she’s literally one week old, drac would purposely throw them off a cliff, Wolfie would drive like he’s playing gta and BJ is a lazy fuck. At one point Erik quits and begins working at Kmart and then right after Kmart goes bankrupt.

THAT CONCLUDES THE AU PORTION here are some incorrect quotes for your consideration:

#choonanigans #universal studios #universal theme parks #beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice 2 #the universal monsters #frankensteins monster #the bride of frankenstein #the wolfman #dracula #universal monsters #dark universe #the phantom of the opera #Theme park history #Beetlejuice graveyard revue #Beetlejuices Graveyard Revue

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aashiqeddiediaz · 2 years ago

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lose me (in the sight of you)

for @andavs for letting me write a fic of their gorgeous art, which you can see here! (please leave them a like and a reblog!)

[AO3 Link]

Word Count: 2710 words

Buck would like to say that it’s the scent of coffee that rouses him awake.

In reality, though, it’s the chill settling through his bones that jerks him out of slumber — even through a thick hoodie, socks, two blankets, and a duvet.

It’s the type of chill that comes from absence, and as Buck buries his face further into the pillow that smells all wrong, absently reaching out to the space next to him, he realizes exactly why.

The sheets are cold, rumpled from Eddie tossing and turning, creased where Buck thinks he might’ve gripped the top sheet too hard last night. He runs his fingers across where the sheet has folded itself up, somehow exactly in the shape of Buck’s hand despite Eddie laying on top of it for the last however many hours.

The chill of the space seeps through the fingers peeking out from under his hoodie’s oversized sleeve, and grumpily, Buck peeks an eye open to confirm his suspicions.

Eddie’s not here.

There’s no hope of him falling asleep again, not without his own personal space heater, so Buck urges himself out of bed, eyes narrowing at the blinking number on the alarm clock.

7:30 am

It should be illegal to be up this early on a Saturday, and as he stares at the hated numerals blinking like they’re taunting him, he’s already plotting ways he can draw Eddie back in bed for a couple more hours of sleep. Now that Chris is too cool for everything, well into his prepubescent era, even he hardly gets up before ten in the morning.

Personally, Buck thinks that same logic should apply to them, too, but it’s clear that Eddie has other plans.

It’s been a journey, learning the morning routine not as Eddie’s best friend, but as his boyfriend. Before, he would’ve had no idea that even on days off, Eddie woke up early enough to greet the roosters, or that the bed would feel so cold when he left it or that even four thick layers wouldn’t be able to replace his heat. Before, he would’ve had no idea that their bedroom would seem dimmer without Eddie to light it up, as if the sun is waiting to follow him wherever he goes.

Buck had only known pieces of these things, through secondhand accounts or by observation at the station. Now, he feels integrated into the morning routine, but every day still brings a new piece of information for him to guard with his life, a new piece to squirrel away in his arsenal of all things Diaz.

Buck pads quietly out of their bedroom after a cursory brush, listening for any other signs of activity through the house. If he listens close enough, he can hear Christopher snoring the same way Eddie does, and the image makes him laugh to himself.

He walks through the house, down to where the rays of sunshine and the scent of coffee lead, to find the man of his desires.

The early morning light filters through the varying hues in Eddie’s dark hair, sweeping its fingers through the thick strands to reveal reds and browns and burnished coppers before coasting down to dust something golden over his skin.

Like this, framed against the window through Buck’s half-awake, blurry vision, Eddie looks like some sort of angel even as he curses very un-angel-like at the coffee maker, the light presenting him forth as some sort of mirage.

Two months ago, Buck would’ve thought that this was still a dream.

Now, he knows that this is his reality, and it’s more beautiful than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

Eddie is decidedly not a morning person, but years of waking up early have made it impossible for him to stay in bed late, even if it’s just to cuddle. He gets restless and cranky without at least one cup of coffee, and Buck leans against the fridge as he watches Eddie try to get his fix.

Dark gray sweatpants hang low on his hips and a black pajama shirt stretches across his shoulders, falling loosely to his waist. The sleeves have been tugged up haphazardly, and Buck smiles as the mental image of Eddie’s frustration plays at the forefront of his mind, impatiently tugging at his sleeves as if they’re the reason he’s in this predicament.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Buck doesn’t realize how long he’s been standing here, staring at his boyfriend, but he startles at those words, recovering just enough to scoff good-naturedly at him as Eddie turns to face him.

His smile is quiet, private, something that belongs to Buck alone, and Buck melts like butter on a hot pan for it.

Another thing Buck wouldn’t have known how to recognize before they got together.

Eddie has always smiled at him like that, but Buck had been illiterate in the language of his love, partially because no one has ever treated Buck like something precious the way Eddie does, and partially because it had been too wishful to hope that Eddie thought him to be different from the rest of their friends.

He hadn’t known how to read his fondness as anything beyond friendship until one night, Eddie’s lips were on his, urging, pleading him to read.

Buck walks over to Eddie, touching his fingertips to the outer edge of that smile before leaning forward to taste it. Eddie tastes like mint and coffee and Buck’s and home, and Buck smiles into the kiss just before he snags his boyfriend’s coffee mug out of his hands.

Eddie rolls his eyes but lets him take it anyway, knowing that Buck will wince as soon as he tastes the sugarless, creamless concoction that Eddie drinks.

A new tradition, but also somehow not new at all — Buck has always stolen Eddie’s coffee out from under him, has always cringed at the strong, bitter taste of it, and Eddie has always rolled his eyes at Buck just before giving him his own cup, doctored just the way he likes it.

He doesn’t stop drinking it, even if it leaves a gross taste in his mouth. The only difference is now, Buck can chase the bitterness away with the sweetness of Eddie’s tongue, and he does exactly that, giving his boyfriend another deep, indulgent kiss as he passes the too-dark coffee back to him.

The faux-exasperation laced with Eddie’s brand of fondness doesn’t hurt, either.

“If you’d left my old coffee maker alone, you’d get your own mug faster,” Eddie says, his voice rough and low from sleep. His drawl is always a little deeper in the mornings, like his voice has forgotten that they’re not in Texas anymore. It scrapes deliciously over Buck’s skin, and Buck hums non-committedly in response, too focused on the intimate quality of his voice to reply.

Eddie had refused to touch the smart coffee maker until Buck disabled all Hildy settings, but even without artificial intelligence, the new machine still makes a better cup of coffee. Eddie’s old one used to give off this weird burnt-tasting taste and smell, and one morning, Buck had gotten sick of it and thrown it out without telling him.

They’d compromised, of course.

Somehow, Eddie can’t figure out how to make enough coffee for both of them in the morning, and even though Buck knows exactly how to fix that, he refuses just because he likes these few extra minutes he gets with him — he likes that these mundane tasks are part of their daily routine, likes that Eddie’s grumbling is always counteracted by the bliss on his face as he drinks his coffee, or the quiet joy on his face when Buck drinks a mug he made.

He likes that Eddie, despite pretending to hate the coffee maker, still insists on being the one to make Buck’s coffee in the morning. Even on the days Buck gets up first — which are admittedly rare — Eddie bodily moves him out of the way to make his cup.

True to it, Eddie fiddles with the coffee machine one more time before he finally gets it to work again, a triumphant sound of victory leaving him as a new batch of coffee drips into the pot.

Buck watches him do all of this as he slides over to the counter, hoisting himself onto the edge between a bottle of olive oil and the cookie jar. There’s not much room for him to scoot back, but he makes it work, keeping Eddie in his sights as he leans back against the cabinets.

There’s a new sort of intimacy of knowing that he can sit here and watch Eddie make his coffee, even if he’s done it nearly a thousand times before the idea of getting together was even on the table.

Before, Buck had to look away from him, lest his expression give away the name printed all over his heart and soul. Now, he can just watch without that fear, can indulge himself in his man making him a cup of coffee, just so they can start the day off with something good.

Buck watches as Eddie carefully takes the pot off the warming plate, reaching for a mug matching his own. He watches as Eddie spoons in exactly one teaspoon of sugar, and pulls the creamer that only Buck uses from the fridge to pour a healthy amount into the mug. He watches as the muscles in his forearms flex with all the effort required to make Buck’s cup, watches as he counts the seconds before tilting the creamer up and away.

He watches as Eddie lifts his head and smiles that smile again before coming towards him.

“Here,” he says as he presses the mug into Buck’s hands.

Even the years where Eddie’s cooking was more of a hazard than a help, his coffee game had been on point. Two weeks after he’d started making Buck’s cup in the mornings at the station, Buck had known that he’d never be able to go back again.

Buck shifts to widen the space between his legs as he takes a sip — perfect, as always. Eddie grins as Buck hums happily, and Buck’s leg shoots out to stop him from walking away. “Where are you going?”

“To get my own coffee,” Eddie says dryly, reaching over for that matching mug and coming back to stand between Buck’s legs. “I was always coming back here.”

Buck softens at the words, keeping his knees on either side of Eddie’s hips as they share the quiet morning together.

Their relationship feels a little like that — like they were always going to end up here. Every single date Buck went on, pathetically trying to move on, all flopped due to an impossible standard unknowingly set by one Eddie Diaz. After the fifth failed date, Buck had simply resigned himself to an existence of being hopelessly in love with his best friend.

Three weeks after that, Eddie had kissed him, saying that he couldn’t keep watching Buck go on dates like it wasn’t tearing him apart, and there had been so much fear for the confession in his eyes that Buck had teared up in turn.

He’d only barely gotten out that he was going on those dates to try and forget Eddie before they were kissing, every last missing piece of Buck snapping right into place with one press of Eddie’s mouth against his own.

Two months later, here they are, drinking coffee out of their matching mugs — they were part of a decorative set that Pepa had bought Eddie a few Christmases ago, each of them made of white ceramic with the bottom inch of glazed in a beautiful tan color. Eddie had found them a couple weeks ago, and washed them to use instead of leaving the set to collect dust.

Buck looks down at where his legs, clad in checkered pajama pants, wrap around Eddie’s solid thighs, holding him closer and closer. Somehow, the countertop’s white tiles contrast perfectly with his dark pajama pants, crisscrossed with white lines that split the fabric’s print into squares that match the color of Eddie’s sweatpants. His gaze bounces quietly between their matching mugs, part of a set, and their mismatched pajamas, fitting together like a puzzle, and smiles.

There’s a thought there, something that escapes him in his drowsy state, but as Buck presses his mouth to Eddie’s shoulder and inhales his scent, he thinks it doesn’t really matter. Not when he gets to share the heart of a home with the love of his life, with their son sleeping soundly a few paces away.

This is everything he’s ever wanted, everything he didn’t think he’d ever have.

Eddie pulls Buck closer with a low hum, his arms snaking around Buck’s waist to span his back. Even through his hoodie, Buck can feel the heat radiating off the palm that was just holding the coffee mug, only a little less than the heat emitting from his chest.

He carefully moves his own steaming mug around Eddie’s body, moving closer until they’re plastered together as close as physically possible. Eddie’s scruffy cheek scratches against Buck’s, warm and so damn close, and the clean scent of him burrows into Buck’s lungs.

Buck thinks he could crawl under Eddie’s skin and still not be close enough, but this is a nice compromise.

Eddie’s hand trails patterns up and down his spine as they drink their coffee just like this, over each other’s shoulders. Buck tries a few times, but having to pull away from Eddie isn’t worth the caffeine, so he sets the half-drunk mug on the counter, far enough that it won’t spill, and wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders instead. His ankles link tighter around Eddie’s thighs, ensuring he won’t slip away.

Little by little, the frost in Buck’s bones melts from Eddie’s proximity.

“Think I can make you come back to bed?” he whispers into the crook of Eddie’s chest and shoulder. It’s where his scar is, tucked beneath his shirt, and Buck absently presses a kiss to it over the fabric as he holds Eddie tighter to him.

The low chuckle his boyfriend lets out rumbles in Buck’s chest. “You could probably make me do anything. Even put up with that stupid smart coffee maker.”

Buck slides his own hands down Eddie’s back, tucking his cold fingers into the back pockets of Eddie’s sweatpants, right over the curve of his ass. Eddie’s laughter vibrates through Buck, making him smile.

“You have an unhealthy fixation with my ass,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to Buck’s head. The hollow sound of an empty mug rings out just before Eddie’s grip tightens around him, his cheek pressing further into Buck’s.

“Mhm,” Buck nods against his shoulder, already drifting off despite the caffeine running through his veins. He’s comfortable tucked into his boyfriend’s warmth, content to stay here for the rest of his life if he could. “It’s a nice ass. Twelve out of ten.”

That only makes Eddie laugh more. He shifts his grip so he can press a long kiss to Buck’s forehead, then a softer one to the birthmark dotting his eye. Buck’s heart squeezes at the tender affection, and he tilts further into Eddie’s neck like young sunflowers seeking the sun.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asks

Eddie hums, low in his throat just as he coasts another kiss along Buck’s hairline. “Let’s stay here for a minute. Just…let me hold you like this for a little bit more. Is that okay?”

Buck nods in response, snuggling further into him until he’s practically bent forward, supported only by Eddie from falling flat on his face.

There’s a metaphor there, too, one that Buck knows intrinsically to be like all those times Eddie’s saved him from landing smack dab on his face — whether it’s because he couldn’t get his legs under him, or because he was jumping both feet first.

The thought makes his heart swell ten sizes in his chest, until Buck thinks he’s choking on it.

“I love you,” Buck whispers.

He hears Eddie’s smile in his voice, and feels his affection all around him. “I love you, too.”

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windyengel · 7 months ago

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Dande-lion

Whenever someone arrives at Mondstad they are always told three mayor truths:

First and foremost, Mondstad welcomes everyone and all of those who come to visit or stay undefinitely. Monds loves travelers because travelers always bring forth new stories, and new stories means Bards will be able to make new songs out of those stories.

Second and almost as important as the first point, Monds is the city of wine. And if you ever want to have the best wine in the city you HAVE to visit Angel Share and ask for their dandelion wine. Followed second for a "surprised special" from the Cat's Tail.

And third, despite Mondstad being a free city, that doesn't mean you can commit any crime or you will face the Ordo Knights, but most specially, the Dandelion Knight and her lioness.

It's a spectacular sight, to see the Acting Grandmaster leaving the knights building with the enormous feline at her side. The lioness almost reaches the hip of the knight, giving her an intimidating look. Whenever the Dandelion knight is out of her office, Mondstand is quietly watching.

Not only that, but Jean is known to be a person who can hide her emotions rather well, not for nothing she was asked to be the temporary replacement of Varka. Yet, to the amusement of one Cavalry Captain, even if she is very much composed, her lioness is not. Kaeya had to actively cover his snickering when the Acting Grandmaster was talking with some Fatui diplomats, trying to keep a level of diplomacy, while her lioness was behind her growling menacingly to the foregneirs.

The lioness is not only an imposing figure, but an asset in battle. Differently to Kaeya peacock, whose looks make it impossible to take to battle, or Amber hare, whose status as prey makes her very delicate, Jean lioness is a force to be reckon with.

Back in the time where Diluc was Cavalry Captain, his owl was the eyes in the sky, and Jeans lion was the attack force. Both spiritual animals were ruthless when tering appart Hlicurls, Treasue hunters and normal criminals. Those two spiritual creatures alone could reduce an abyse mage to shreds even before the knights arrived.

Nowadays, the lioness doesnt see much fighting. The Active Grandmaster has a more office work than a field one, so her lioness has also paid the price. Whenever you enter Jean office you can see the animal napping at her feet, or playing around with the soul of Lisa. In certain occasions you can see her carying Klee by her scruff or sitting in front of Kaeya office so he cant enter to do more work. Sometimes she is even sitting next to the Deaconess and gowling to those fans that try to overstep their welcome to the church.

The lion has left the ruthless battle against the enemies of Mondstand and started a new war. One where she has to defend the people she deems like her family against the evil forces of overworking.

Back to the index

#genshin impact #genshin spirit animals #writing exercise #jean gunnhildr #jean genshin impact #jean genshin

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drramakantkumar · 1 year ago

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issuu

#Best Hip Replacement doctor in Patna #Best Hip Replacement surgeon in patna #Hip replacement surgery in patna #Best Orthopaedic doctor in patna #reasons not to have hip replacement #which method of hip replacement is the best #best hip replacement for younger patients #best hip replacement for the active person #how painful is a hip replacement #average age for hip replacement #anterior hip replacement surgery

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charlesandmartine · 2 months ago

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Thursday 17th October 2024

The moment you push the button to confirm the purchase of a flight departing 08.25 somehow you find yourself thinking oh that's a sensible time to fly. So it was, but then a couple of days ago we found ourselves thinking well if we fly 08.25 domestic, we would need to be at the airport by, say, 07.00. Oh, that means we need to be in the city by 06.30. Oh, no buses that early, it'll have to be the ferry. Hmm, best ferry will have to be 06.00, the first one of the day. 50 minute trundle down to the wharf with suitcases. No-way! Call for Uber. Paul, our driver turned up at 05.10! So much for a 'late' flight! From the empty wharf T2, we watched it gradually getting light; rowing teams already out in their skiffs training before work maybe. Soon other bleary eyed fellow travellers scuffed up to the barrier, some used to such early starts and others with suitcases, couples not communicating. Glorious sight of the sun peeping past the sails of the Opera House as we thumped into Circular Quay 3. Well it all went like Swiss clockwork, without the cuckoo that is. The attendant free check-in and baggage drop meant there was no grumpy Qantas person to deal with this grumpy person, so now all going like a Singer sewing machine. Approaching the security scanner the lady asks in a big loud Aussie twang, any hip replacements? She knows her market quite clearly. Queensland and Northern Territories Arial Services is what it stands for and it appeared like Qantas was the only airline that flies from Terminal 3. A flat white and we were almost human. As we waited at the gate there was a final call for the flight to Wagga Wagga! (So good they named it twice) I can imagine what Wagga Wagga might be like, but we were heading to Darwin. When Burke and Wills set off on their expedition from Melbourne across the interior in 1860, they could never have believed it would be possible to travel the breadth of Australia, safely or otherwise in 4 hours! On the other hand, I find it incredible that you can fly for over 4 hours and still be in the same country/ continent; that's the equivalent of flying London to Cyprus! Australia is huge place as we flew mile after mile over the red earth.

The work experience schoolboy plonked the Boeing 737-800 down on an unsuspecting runway and brought it to its stand. I say work experience, that's what it felt like. We were invited to exit via the backdoor and the moment our faces touched the sun's rays, we immediately felt like we'd walked into an open oven. We boarded the plane in Springtime Sydney and re-emerged to 34 degrees, late morning in the tropics rising to 36 late afternoon. Wow what a contrast! Uber ordered and back into cold air-conditioning.

We are staying in an apartment hotel with full cooking facilities on the Esplanade overlooking the Timor Sea. It is fabulous. A short walk around the block and we were at Coles buying a rubbery chicken, sweetcorn and SB. Perfect.

It was still sweltering at 18.00 but sitting on our balcony listening to a multitude of birds heralding the sunset, as the sun gradually disappears into the shimmering sea; what can be better than that! Clearly with temperatures as they are here, we are going to have to manage our activities carefully.

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years ago

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Diamonds and Ice

AN: This is my entry for The Slumber Party’s week one Writer activity ‘I Spy’. I chose to use ‘Diamond Necklace’. I even managed a drabble!

Beta's by @lunarbuck Dividers by @firefly-graphicsgraphics and moodboard/banners by me.

Summary: You consider the meaning of the gift you’ve just received.

Relationship: Dark Mob Loki x Reader

WC: Under 500

CW: Angst, Non-con, manipulation.

What is a diamond necklace?

A symbol of eternal and endless love? A way of announcing to the world that ‘I love you above all others’. Tangible proof that you are priceless?

Or are there other meanings? A replacement for a collar and chain? Telling others they can look, but not touch, for this person is my possession? A reminder that you can never escape?

Really it all comes down to the person giving it to you, and what your relationship is like.

It may be that, in the beginning, such a gift would have meant all those initial things, back when love was new and you saw the world and your lover, through rose-tinted spectacles.

“You are the most precious thing in the world to me, dove. I wake up every day in awe of the fact that you could love someone like me.”

You wound your arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips, enjoying the feel of his hands on your hips.

“You’re so silly, Loki. Of course you are deserving of love.”

But then the tint starts to wear off.

“Where were you, Loki? I was waiting for you.”

He glanced up at you, cleaning his hands with a rag. You tried not to look so hard at what he was cleaning off. Rust red.

“You know I had business, darling. I can’t always be here with you.”

Before disappearing altogether.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His words come out as a snarl and his long fingers, fingers that used to take you to the heights of pleasure, were wrapped around your wrist in a punishing grip.

“Anywhere away from you. You’re never here anymore, stand me up more often than not. You’re angry all the time. I’m sorry, Loki. You’re not the man I fell in love with anymore.”

But what if your lover tries to apply a new tint?

His grip was tight on your jaw, but the discomfort from that was nothing compared to the pain in your shoulders and wrists, where your arms were bound above you to the headboard.

“You. Will. Love. Me.” Each word was punctuated with a harsh, punishing thrust. “You are mine, dove. And I keep what is mine.”

A tear rolled down your face.

Well, again, that depends on whether you accept the new tint and behave as though outwardly it’s the same as the original.

Your jaw ached, but this time from smiling. You rested your head on Loki’s shoulder, a picture of a woman smitten with her man.

“Isn’t he just the best? I can’t believe he bought this for me.” You almost believe yourself.

Your fingers trailed over the gems adorning your throat, almost as heavy and suffocating as your husband’s fingers.

“Well, you know how much you mean to me, darling.”

His fingers tighten on your waist.

What is a diamond necklace?

Cold.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @flordeamatista @goldylions @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @doasyoudesireandlive @wheezy-stucky @luxeavenger @peaches1958 @mrsmischief209 @animnerd @strangeprincex

#navy and roo's sleepover #the slumber party massacre #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #dark loki #mafia!loki #mob loki

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stardustbarbarians · 2 years ago

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Too Pretty For War

Chapter 7 (ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 8| ch. 9)

Summary: The only way for Prince Sam to end a war is by marrying the enemy.

Tags: Prince!Sam, war, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slight angst

Trigger Warnings: blood, death, nightmares, grief

A/N: PLEASE DON'T LET THE WARNINGS SCARE YOU they're just briefly mentioned in this chapter. I hope y'all enjoy this one I had fun with it. As always, this series is dedicated to @safety-sam (happy birthday, my love <3).

Words: 2.8 k

+++

After the fifth night of isolation with his new bride, Samuel was free to leave to his own chambers. It could not have come any sooner. Ever since their… mishap… on the third night, the air between them had grown stale. While there was less of a chance that one of them would end up in a pool of their own blood at the hand of the other, it was very clear that they were actively avoiding one another out of embarrassment more than anything else.

Before, Sam had attempted to avoid his wife’s eye simply out of fear that he would fall into an inescapable rage. Now he dodged it out of the deep guilt he experienced each time he glanced her way; seeing her looming above him as he used her for nothing more than his own amusement at seeing her come apart at the seams by his tongue. Each time she would draw breath it reminded him of the small noises she made while astride his hips. It made his face burn, shame and disgrace thrumming thickly through his veins at the memories.

She also hardly looked his way. Samuel took solace in the fact that they were both embarrassed by that… whatever one would call it.

As soon as dawn broke over the ocean and shed its weak beams of sun into the temporary chambers Sam had been housed in, the prince was alert and attempting to dress himself. Deciding that being haphazardly dressed was favorable over having to experience that awkward air for another moment, Samuel burst out of the doors. He already had his destination in mind, his feet carrying him swiftly down the sleepy corridors of his marble palace. He passed statues in the likeness of the gods, open archways that led into atriums and gardens until he reached his destination.

Knowing that he should have knocked, Samuel barged through the doors of Daniel’s chambers anyway. It was dim, that weak sunlight trying its best to light the large room of the advisor. At the sound of someone entering, the figure laying in the bed at the far wall began stirring. A stab of guilt lanced through Samuel’s heart as he came to the realization that he had awoken his best friend. However, it was quickly replaced by joy at the sound of hearing his voice for the first time in days. He had not even spoken a word, rather groaned in confusion, but that mattered not to the prince.

Sam bounded over to the scholar’s bedside, wrapping his arms around the form of his best friend tightly. There was so much that he had felt as he embraced Daniel, guilt being at the forefront. However, he chose at that moment not to allow himself to think. He would just experience each second as it passed.

Confused and still had a mind muddled with sleep, Daniel reluctantly reciprocated the embrace. His brow was knit as his mind attempted to piece together what was transpiring.

“Sammy?” the scholar finally asked, his voice rough from sleep.

The prince simply nodded, not wanting to disrupt the calm of the moment with his anxious voice. He felt Daniel’s arms tighten around him as he recognized the person embracing him. They stayed in that position until the room was fully filled with sunlight, Samuel finding much needed comfort in the arms of his closest relation.

Sam was the first to pull away, knowing full well that Daniel would allow him to stay like that for however long he needed him to. However, he did not remove himself from his seat on the bed.

“Your honeymoon has ended, I see,” the advisor pointed out, shifting himself so that he was able to sit upright against the headboard.

“Please, refrain from calling it as such,” Sam lamented, flinching at the thought of such a thing. It was far from sweet, his forced time with his wife.

“It did not go well, I take it.” Daniel’s voice was still gravelly from sleep, clearing his throat to attempt to rid it of that quality.

The prince scoffed, shaking his head minisculely. “It is a wonder that we both still draw breath.”

There was a moment where it seemed that Daniel was deciding what his next words would be. Sam knew that meant he was about to say something he knew the prince would not enjoy.

“Why do you hate her so? I have never seen you this prone to malice towards anyone in all the years that I have known you; not even your father,” he questioned, laying his hand gently atop Samuel’s that was resting on his bedding.

“She has taken so much from me, Daniel. She ripped away both of my brothers from me, from my poor mother! She took away the life I was meant to live! She removed my right to be with whom I choose rather than forced to live my life at the side of one I can hardly stand to look at! That is why I despise her!”

He had not meant to get that angry. His own yell bounced off the walls of Daniel’s chambers and back towards him, making the royal wince at his own tone. There was no mistaking the rage in his words, however Samuel hardly recognized his own voice. If he had not known that he had spoken those words, he could have easily mistaken them as those of his father.

“Was it she who took all of that from you? Or are you simply placing all the blame on a single face to make it easier for yourself?”

Samuel froze at the words of his best friend. He suddenly felt as if Daniel had peered right into his soul.

“Something else disturbs you,” the advisor pointed out, his eyes taking in the haunted look in his best friend’s eyes. He recognized that look as the one Sam harbored after experiencing a nightmare.

Heaving a bone-deep sigh, Samuel closed his eyes and hung his head. Truly, there was nothing that got past his best friend. Glancing back up into Daniel’s compassionate face, the prince began to wonder how he had never seen it before.

“It was her. She managed to sack the castle and stage a rebellion. The twins both died in front of me, Veronica was beheaded, mother and father were burned at the stake, and-” Samuel’s voice failed him, the hyper-realistic visions of all his loved ones dying horrific deaths making his chest ache, “And you bled out in my arms after she slit your throat before my very eyes.”

Daniel was silent as Sam attempted to futilely prevent himself from crumbling. It truly was a fruitless venture, the warmth of their blood on his skin resurfacing along with all the visuals from his night terror.

“What if it is an omen? What if Apollo grants me the gift of prophecy through my dreams?” Samuel finally asked, breaking the silence of the moment. It had been a question he’d pondered for many years.

“Sam-”

“This is not the first time I have seen one die in my dreams only for them to perish within days of my vision, Daniel. You know this to be true,” the prince argued, his tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

The scholar seemed at a loss for words, his brow knit together in deep concern for his best friend. He pulled Samuel in for another embrace, laying his head atop his chest.

“Perhaps Apollo has favor towards you, I will not deny that possibility. However, I cannot allow you to torture yourself with this burden. This nightmare of yours is most likely a manifestation of your fear of failure,” Daniel reasoned, his voice humming in his chest against Sam’s skin. The scholar’s hand gently smoothed Samuel’s hair, both sensations providing immense comfort to him.

The prince allowed himself to adjust his way of thinking to accommodate Daniel’s reasoning. It made sense to Sam that the fear he experienced in his waking moments would also extend into his unconscious mind.

There was something else that Samuel wanted to share with his best friend, but he found himself unable to conjure the words while in his presence. It seemed wrong to discuss what he and Princess Y/N had done on that night, afraid of breaking Daniel’s heart further. It was truly selfish of Sam; Daniel had the right to know. But when he gazed into those hazel brown eyes, Samuel found himself unable to witness them with sorrow caused by his hand. It was unlikely that he would find out what happened, anyway.

+++

After a while, Daniel had eventually shooed the prince out of his quarters, citing that Sam had princely duties he had to attend to. Knowing the advisor was right, as usual, Samuel left his best friend in order to be properly dressed by Pythius. Instead of his silken Chitons, the manservant suited Sam in his armor. It had been a great deal of time since Samuel was weighed down by his bronze armor, but it was not an unwelcome feeling. It was a familiar one and the gods above knew he had so few of those recently.

Once he was clad in his battle gear, the prince made for the field behind the palace specifically cultivated for training. He heard the sound of swords clashing into one another before he saw his soldiers sparring, their armor glinting in the sunlight.

“The prince has returned!” one of them called, the rest of the warriors turning their helmet-clad heads in his direction. Upon spotting the royal, they all ceased their fighting in order to greet him.

He was soon surrounded, familiar faces smiling up at him. Sam was glad to know that they had missed his presence in his near week absence.

“Welcome back, your majesty. How was your vacation?” one of them, Alerio, jokingly asked. Every one of them knew that it was far from a peaceful break for the prince.

The group of soldiers broke out into a fit of chortles, laughing good-naturedly at Samuel’s expense. He was sure the face he made added to the hilarity.

“Yes, jest all you like. I had much time to ponder our training technique and how to up its difficulty while I was away,” Sam taunted, hearing them all collectively groan at the suggestion. Their training was rigorous as it was, considering they were the prince’s chosen warriors.

“Was that what you thought about in between bedding the princess?” another one of his warriors called, Sam unable to catch who it was. The prince glared in the general direction of the voice, the group breaking out into immature calls and whoops that often went hand in hand with the topic of intercourse.

The prince was sure his face was bright red at the implication, embarrassment flooding his veins. “Silence! I wish not to discuss what transpired while I was away! Now, you can either put all thoughts of it from your mind or I will make you run the length of the shoreline-”

Samuel stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes befalling a figure as he scanned his warriors he was far from expecting to see. But he knew that face anywhere, the difference in armor standing out like a lighting strike in the dark.

“What are you doing here?” the prince hissed, his teeth clenched together in reaction to the sudden and intense feeling of spite flooding his veins.

Moving as one, all of the warriors turned their attention towards whatever made their leader so furious in a manner the likes of which they had never seen before. They all came face to face with none other than Samuel’s new bride, varying degrees of shock on their faces.

“I have come to train with you, your majesty,” Princess Y/N replied, her helmet resting beneath her arm as she stood at her full height.

“You have, have you?” Sam began trekking towards her, the warriors parting for him to make a clear path to his betrothed.

“Yes. I wanted to see just how superior Spartan training is to that of the Athenians.” There was no mistaking the challenge in her tone. She was aware that the comment would get under her husband’s skin; she was correct.

“You are more than welcome to join, Princess,” Sam was unable to quell his dark satisfaction at her surprise, “however, you must first prove yourself.”

“And what might that entail?” They were sizing one another up, a near perfect parallel to that of the third night. However, Sam would not allow himself to be weak this time.

A cruel smile slithered itself across the prince’s lips. He had hoped she would ask.

“You must best me in battle.”

The crowd of soldiers broke out into a clamor of shock, Sam catching snippets of men debating over who would win. Excitement grew amongst the soldiers as the silence between the newlyweds carried on, both maintaining tense eye contact.

Finally, the princess nodded. She accepted the challenge. “Be sure that advisor of yours is available, your highness. You shall need someone to lament to after I have bested you.”

The amount of fury the prince experienced in that moment was not helped in the slightest by his warriors’ reactions to the taunt, all of them “ooh”-ing in clear support of her comment. He would not allow his anger to show, however. He knew it would only grant her satisfaction. Instead he held out his hand to signal to one of the servants to place his sword into his hand. A moment later, he felt the weapon pressed into his palm. His helmet was passed to him as well, the prince never taking his eyes off his opponent as he slid the metal over his head.

The warriors moved out of the way of the arena, standing off the sides of the line dug into the dirt. Once both were ready for battle, they approached one another, their gazes locked as they sized up the other. The two of them crossed blades, the sound of metal on metal a familiar one to both.

“The rules are simple. Forcing one out of the battle area or successfully disarming your opponent counts as an instant win. For either side.”

The princess scoffed in arrogance. “Hardly a challenge.”

“BY YOUR COUNT!!” Samuel shouted to Pythius.

With his heartbeat in his ears, the prince hardly heard his servant speak. However, once the word “one” entered his ears, Samuel attacked. He swung his sword right for her chest, the princess parrying his blow with her own sword. It soon became a dance of skill, both parties having years of experience pertaining to swordplay. Each attack by the other was met by a defensive measure, following it up with an attack of their own. Neither was equipped with a shield, only having their weapons to defend with.

Sweat was soon accumulating on Samuel’s skin, the sun heating up his armor along with the physical exertion. She was a worthy opponent, Sam was willing to admit. Her foot work was excellent, never allowing him to trip her up with his movement. Where took a more defensive approach, Princess Y/N favored the offensive. That was how Sam would beat her: allow her to tire and then best her.

There was a moment where she managed to catch the prince’s arm with her blade, the sharpened metal drawing blood. However, Sam hardly flinched and continued to battle her. They were both becoming winded, the fight lasting much longer than the other had anticipated. However, pride would allow neither to surrender. Pride be damned, it seemed, as the princess was able to grab the prince by his ankle and cause him to fall onto his back. Wasting no time, she quickly pinned him down by straddling him and pressing her sword into his throat.

“Do you surrender?” She was panting, the fight a strenuous one. Sweat was also forming on her skin, the moisture catching in the light.

Sam would not have the chance to answer.

“Prince Samuel!” Someone called, catching the attention of every person in the immediate area.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Sam threw his head into the ground beneath him in a fit of annoyance. Taking the opportunity, Sam was able to change positions with the princess by pinning her to the ground. She growled in frustration at being bested in that instance, the prince throwing her a wink before getting to his feet. He would have offered his hand to assist his wife as well, but he knew she would refuse it.

“State your business,” the royal commanded, still breathing heavily. He had removed his helmet by then, shaking his hair out.

“Prince Samuel, please, make haste,” the servant girl urged, a look of extreme distress in her eyes.

“What does this concern?” He would be lying if he stated that her distress was not a cause for worry for him.

The serving girl glanced around nervously, swallowing anxiously before speaking. Her hands were trembling, her face drained of all its color. “It is your father-”

“-he is gravely injured.”

+++

Taglist:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @kdarling1 @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @mintysammykiszka @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensgatedaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama

Taglist Form

#greta van fleet #too pretty for war #greta van fic #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka #samuel francis kiszka #sammy gvf #danny wagner #daniel robert wagner #danny gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf

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drsanjaygupta-1 · 4 months ago

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Best Orthopaedic Doctor Vaishali Ghaziabad

Discover Top-Notch Orthopedic Care with Dr. Sanjay Gupta in Vaishali, Ghaziabad

If you’re searching for exceptional orthopedic care in Vaishali, Ghaziabad, look no further than Dr. Sanjay Gupta. Renowned for his expertise and compassionate approach, Dr. Gupta stands out as one of the leading orthopedic specialists in the region. In this blog, we’ll explore what makes Dr. Gupta the best choice for your orthopedic needs and why you should consider visiting him for your hip, knee, and joint concerns.

Why Dr. Sanjay Gupta is the Best Orthopedic Doctor in Vaishali

Extensive Experience and Expertise

Dr. Sanjay Gupta brings years of experience and specialized training in orthopedics, focusing on the diagnosis and treatment of hip and knee conditions. His extensive background includes advanced training and certifications, ensuring that he provides the highest level of care. Whether you’re dealing with a sports injury, arthritis, or need joint replacement surgery, Dr. Gupta’s expertise will guide you through the best treatment options available.

Patient-Centered Care

At the heart of Dr. Gupta’s practice is a commitment to personalized, patient-centered care. He understands that every patient is unique, and he takes the time to listen to your concerns, evaluate your condition comprehensively, and develop a tailored treatment plan. His approach ensures that you receive not only effective treatment but also compassionate support throughout your recovery journey.

State-of-the-Art Facilities

Dr. Gupta’s clinic in Vaishali is equipped with the latest technology and medical advancements in orthopedic care. From diagnostic imaging to surgical procedures, the clinic’s state-of-the-art facilities ensure that you receive the most accurate diagnosis and effective treatment. The use of cutting-edge technology aids in minimally invasive procedures, reducing recovery time and enhancing overall outcomes.

Comprehensive Range of Services

Whether you’re seeking treatment for chronic pain, recovering from an injury, or considering joint replacement surgery, Dr. Gupta offers a comprehensive range of orthopedic services. His expertise spans:

Hip and Knee Replacement Surgery

Sports Medicine and Injury Management

Arthritis Treatment

Fracture Care and Rehabilitation

Minimally Invasive Surgical Techniques

Positive Patient Outcomes

Dr. Gupta’s dedication to achieving positive patient outcomes is reflected in the countless success stories of his patients. Many have praised his skillful surgical techniques, effective pain management, and the improvement in their quality-of-life post-treatment. His patients often commend his ability to restore function and mobility, allowing them to return to their daily activities with renewed vigor.

Accessible and Convenient Location

Located in the heart of Vaishali, Dr. Gupta’s clinic is easily accessible for residents of Ghaziabad and surrounding areas. The convenient location ensures you can receive top-tier orthopedic care without needing to travel far. The clinic’s friendly staff is also available to assist with appointment scheduling, insurance queries, and any other needs you may have.

What to Expect During Your Visit

When you visit Dr. Sanjay Gupta, you can expect a thorough evaluation of your condition. Your initial consultation will involve a detailed discussion about your symptoms, medical history, and lifestyle. Dr. Gupta may recommend diagnostic tests to understand your condition better. Based on the findings, he will discuss the most appropriate treatment options, whether they involve conservative management, physical therapy, or surgical intervention.

For more: - https://drsanjaygupta.info/best-orthopaedic-doctor-vaishali-ghaziabad/

#dr sanjay gupta

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escapismkidnappedme · 4 months ago

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When I was 12, I got my period. It scared me. I thought I was dying.

Naturally, I told my mother. If I was dying, I was going to spend every last breath designing my funeral to be the best funeral a twelve-year-old could have.

She simply replied "You're a woman, now." as I was given a box of pads and the discussion of what to do began. It was simple, unceremonious, and any questions I had were answered in the best way a parent raised in shame could speak to their child who simply did not understand why it was shameful, could. I only knew not to bother my dad about it because he wouldn't know where to begin on the subject.

The only question that couldn't be answered satisfactorily was 'Why am I a woman?' I was told the biological reasonings, the theological explanation, an explanation of my past of wearing dresses and having a predisposition for liking the color pink- despite my favorite color being blue since my birth, and the explanation of how my body would change next.

My hips would grow in, my chest would no longer be flat, I would have to start shaving my legs and armpits, I would soon be policed on every way my body presented. Short of illness, I could no longer talk to my mother about my body.

Eating no longer became an act of indulgence but rather an activity to be avoided at all costs. My father would laugh at how little my mother ate, not knowing what was drilled into her as a teenager. I sat across the table and decided that I would eat to enjoy food, unknowingly treating mealtimes as a replacement for the comfort I once felt in my family.

Bulimia came as I felt like it was my way of fighting back. I could eat whatever I wanted as long as I threw up more than I put in. I gained weight anyways. I became fearful of carbs, terrified of sugar, and reliant on coffee to keep myself thin. Vegetables were fine, but only if others heard my stomach growl to the point that it was making them uncomfortable.

My body was no longer my own. It had simply been loaned to me in my childhood until I was old enough to pay for it in my teenage years. I could have it back when I was an adult and proved I wanted it enough.

In high school, I hoped the reasons I felt so disconnected from my body was because I was transgender. The hatred of my own breasts had to be from dysphoria. I never wanted them. I never felt an internal urge to 'be' a woman, despite my biological leanings, so it must be that I was a man.

In college, I changed my name. I began to go by masculine pronouns. I became policed as a man rather than as a woman, and still I was treated like an idiot blonde. My hair was criticized for being too long, then for being too short. I was policed for not having enough body hair, but hated how prickly my legs felt whenever I skipped shaving.

I entered my first long-term relationship where I was policed for not being masculine enough. I was constantly told that when I got on testosterone, I would finally have a libido. I was treated as a 'work in progress' that would be loved as soon as I was done working on myself, rather than for the person I was.

I was treated as eye candy while I replaced the comfort one should feel in a relationship with food. Carbs became my respite. I gained weight. In two years, I gained eighty pounds.

When I finally stopped having sex out of coercion, I was cheated on. Once I found out, I broke it off and moved out a little under a month later. I went back to college, broke down and shaved my legs, and finally let my hair grow out. For some odd reason, my breakdown manifested in the foods I ate. I could only have a specific salad I make from the dining hall's salad bar because it meant I was in control of the portion.

I lost the first ten pounds that month, earning myself the allegation that I was on diabetes medication, and when the next ten came off, I earned the allegation that I did cocaine.

I'm still repairing my relationship with food, and still trying to find my perfect label that encapsulates how I want to present myself to the world, but all I've learned is that I have no interest in following strict social codes to identify as any particular gender correctly. Simply put, I am myself. However I choose to present is how I think my clothes would look best. If it means looking like what people perceive as a man, or if it looks like what people perceive as a woman, then it is their job to decide. As for my body, I view it the same way I view a car. I'm in it, I can adorn it, but as long as everything is working properly, I don't really care for comments about it.

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