#bring me coffee or bring me death
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago
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A hypercompetent realist who runs the neighboring coffee shop, meet Nina July 28th when Good Omens returns, only on Prime Video.
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shhh-secret-time · 8 months ago
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To be honest, stardew valley has me in such a chokehold. It always has, even before the 1.6.
In such a way that my brain wants to smash my hyperfixation into it. So late at night I'll be awake thinking of this stardew/south park mashup.
Call that bad boy Star Park AU.
But no brain! Bad! We already have too much going on! You have a Secret Soulmate AU. Fantasy AU, A Cowboy AU story staring Kenny that's still in the outline phase, and these one shots!
(Look at the tags to watch me descent into madness)
#like C'mon#it would be so cute and wholesome#ya know#everything south park isn't#its not my fault I think about me and my friends ocs starting a little farm together#i got one friend I rp with#we smash everything into our stardew rp#it ain't even really stardew besides like the layout of the town#I could write something like that up#like Stan and his family are already “farmers”#the heart event where he tells you he fucking hates it#but next heart event he confesses he's starting to associate farming with you#and now...maybe its not so bad?#COME ON#Kenny taking Karen to see your animals and falling in love with the way you're so gentle with her#Kyle finding you passed out in the mines and scolding you for being careless#but he's patching you up while he does it!!!?#Cartman demanding you bring him crops from your farm because#“everyone elses crops taste like dirt and ball sweat! at least I can stomach yours.”#(its the sweetest thing hes ever said tbh)#tweek having his little coffee shop set up there#he gets away from his parents and moves out to the valley because its quiet!#Craig moves out there to study the stars because they're so clear he can almost see all of them without a telescope#Clyde is JUST Alex and you cant change my mind#after the death of his mother he goes to live with his grandparents#Bebe is like a mix of Haley and Emily!#her events would be you helping her get her outfit designs off the ground and using her photography skills to have you model them#Wendy's whole thing would her being the mayors assistant but over heart events you make her believe in herself#and she becomes mayor; fuck you lewis you old fuck#shhh its a secret
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alekt · 2 years ago
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This Magnus with this Alec, unstoppable. they are literally THAT couple.
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demo-ness · 1 year ago
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I am in the weird situation where I do actually get somber and sad on 9/11, but it's because my dog of 15 years died 2 years ago today
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unboundprompts · 8 months ago
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Pirate Terms and Phrases
-> Pirate Lingo
-> A Pirate's Glossary
Batten Down The Hatches - tie everything down and put stuff away for a coming storm.
Brig - a prison on a ship.
Bring a Spring Upon 'er - turn the ship in a different direction
Broadside - the most vulnerable angle of a ship that runs the length of the boat.
Cutlass - a thick, heavy and rather short sword blade.
Dance with Jack Ketch - to hang; death at the hands of the law (Jack Ketch was a famed English executioner).
Davy Jones's Locker - a mythical place at the bottom of the ocean where drowned sailors are said to go.
Dead Men Tell No Tales - the reason given for leaving no survivors.
Flogging - severe beating of a person.
Gangplank - removable ramp between the pier and ship.
Give No Quarter - show no mercy.
Jack - flag flown at the front of the ship to show nationality.
Jolly Roger - black pirate flag with a white skull and crossbones.
Keelhaul - a punishment where someone is dragged under the ship. They are cut by the planks and barnacles on the bottom of the ship.
Landlubber - an inexperienced or clumsy person who doesn't have any sailing skills.
Letters of Marque - government-issued letters allowing privateers the right to piracy of another ship during wartime.
Man-O-War - a pirate ship that is decked out and prepared for battle.
Maroon - to leave someone stranded on a. deserted island with no supplies, typically a punishment for any crew members who disrespected the captain.
Mutiny - a situation in which the crew chooses a new captain, sometimes by forcibly removing the old one.
No Prey, No Pay - a common pirate law that meant crew members were not paid, but rather received a share of whatever loot was taken.
Old Salt - experienced pirate or sailor.
Pillage - to steal/rob a place using violence.
Powder Monkeys - men that performed the most dangerous work on the ship. They were treated harshly, rarely paid, and were expendable.
Privateer - government-appointed pirates.
Run A Shot Across the Bow - fire a warning shot at another boat's Captain.
Scurvy - a disease caused by Vitamin C Deficiency.
Sea Legs - when a sailor adjusts his balance from riding on a boat for a long time.
Strike Colors - lower a ship's flag to indicate surrender.
Weigh Anchor and Hoist the Mizzen - an order to the crew to pull up the anchor and get the ship sailing.
If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.
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churipu · 9 months ago
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YOU SLEEPING ON A COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader
note. i hv so many ideas right now apart from what i'm actually supposed to be focusing on, so...pls excuse me.
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GOJO SATORU. arguments with gojo are a pain in the ass, he's petty and everything will be a mess. he's so stubborn that it actually baffles you sometimes — and he calls you rock head?
being a sorcerer is never an easy job. gojo wakes up every day, not knowing whether he'd die in a mission or get to live another day. so when you brought up your concerns about it to him, the male didn't take it lightly. things have been tight for him, and you're walking on eggshells for the past few days.
the slightest thing angered him, like how his sleeve got stuck on the door handle, or the way he curses out loudly when he stubs his toe on the coffee table. it puts him in a shitty mood, so when that happens, and you try to talk to him about his job.
gojo gets very pissy about it.
frankly, you understood where his anger comes from. and it was part of your fault to bother him the moment he came back from work exhausted, it was bound to happen so you weren't really blaming him at all from the projecting of his anger to you the night before — he didn't say hurtful things, gojo knew better than that. all he did was tell you to leave him alone and get out of his sight for the night.
and you did. sleeping alone on the couch, all sprawled out, an arm dangling on the edge; while a string of drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.
you seemed to not mind having to sleep on the couch (under your own want). but your boyfriend did, the moment he knew your bed time strikes — he came out of the room and eyed your sleeping form. guilt washing over him when all you did was care about his being and how dangerous the jujutsu world is.
gojo approaches you and gently carried you in his arms, an arm right under your bottom and his other arm around your waist. hoisting you up like a baby as your cheek leaned onto his shoulder, letting the drool blotch his shirt. he doesn't care at all.
the male tucks you in the bed, pulling the covers over you before slipping next to you, chest pressed to your back and an arm resting on your hip. gojo will never let you sleep a whole night on the couch, he will bring you to sleep with him and apologize the very next day for being such an ass.
he also, tried to make it up to you by cooking a classic english breakfast. which ended up in chaos — and you both decided to order take out instead.
GETO SUGURU. geto is usually calm and collected; he doesn't really get angry at anything. even if he does, he mostly keeps it to himself unless it really bothers him. but since humans have certain capacities to their own emotion — geto is not spared from being angry, no matter how calm he is.
after the death of amanai, you could feel him change. your geto. it was traumatizing for him, and you understood. always being there for him, never leaving him alone. the dark circles under his eyes were apparent, and it looked like he hasn't had a good night sleep for what seemed like . . . weeks, or months, if that's even possible.
geto appreciated your company, really. but sometimes, he also wanted to be left alone to dwell on his feelings. he didn't want to end up saying hurtful things to you because he was so angry at himself. but he did, and god was it horrible.
he was already feeling like shit before the argument— which if you see, wasn't really an argument at all. it was one-sided, geto was telling you off and you didn't say anything back. because you knew he didn't mean it. he almost desperately begged for you to leave him alone because your presence was "annoying" him and he couldn't stand it.
although geto said it in a heap of moment. he didn't mean it, and before he could say anything else, you tell him that you were going to be sleeping on the couch, so if he needed anything he was free to come to you.
geto didn't stop you. he was busy hating on himself for telling you that — and believe me when i say that he, right there, almost cried out of frustration.
he tossed and turned on his bed. where you were usually on too, beside him, holding his hand whilst he sleep. your hushed voice lulling him into a peaceful slumber; but you weren't there today, all because he told you to leave him alone. geto sat up, his eyelids heavy, but no matter how long he shut is, they always open back up.
with slow and heavy steps, he approaches you on the couch. and geto had always knew that you were a light sleeper, so his footsteps awoken you. seeing your eyes flutter open, geto slid on the couch, laying himself on top of you — head on your chest, arms clutching onto your shirt like he's desperate for your presence, and his legs intertwining with yours.
getos' hushed apologies were heard as he leaned into your warmth, and you told him that you were never angry. brushing his hair, massaging his scalp using your fingertips before lulling him to sleep, and geto did. almost immediately. and so did you.
he could never sleep without you. whether it being on the bed, the couch, or anywhere else — as long has you were with him, he will find the ability to drift off.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. is an ass. let's face it — he wouldn't give a fuck if you decided to sleep on the couch after an argument, at least for the first couple of hours. toji is a blunt man, and he's a sole believer that nobody could bear sleeping on the couch when there's a bed in the house.
but you were there to prove him wrong.
after an argument going south, he finds you grabbing your pillow and then seeking shelter on the couch. and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, knowing you'd come crawling back on the mattress after a few hours — because who'd choose the couch over the bed?
you. apparently.
he slept without a single care, thinking of words to say when you finally decided to come back on the bed. but when he woke up at three am, his arm searching to find your body, but realizing all he was catching was air — he finally realized that you weren't coming back onto the bed.
and it annoyed him. he was angry that you weren't there. and at three am? he was already wide awake, walking out of the room angrily. but his gaze softened when he saw you asleep, the constant flashing light from the television panning on your body; toji walks over, snatches the remote and turns the device off.
letting out a soft sigh, toji squats down, flicking your forehead. and the action was enough to make you grimace lightly in your sleep — although not enough to wake you up completely. the male chuckled and prepped an arm under the hollow under your knees, and an arm across your shoulder.
with ease he brought you into your shared room and he laid you down on the bed, covering your body with the blanket before he slips into his own portion of the bed. scooting closer to you as you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, seeking for comfort.
toji wouldn't admit that he was the one who brought you into the bed and would end up saying how you came crawling back at three am. you always find out the truth though, and toji tells you to forget about whatever he did because he won't be doing it again (he will).
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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greenglowinspooks · 6 months ago
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Danny being absolutely horrified by this is basically the core of the story imo, and the other half is just Danny desperately trying to avoid everything related to rogues and heroes because he’s sick of that mess at this point
Like, he has to drop off the face of the planet every time the Joker escapes from Arkham (his teachers know why and are very accommodating and let him do online classes), so Obviously he must be involved in the Joker’s schemes somehow. Cue batstalking
Meanwhile Danny is losing his mind because No, he doesn’t have anything to do with the Joker and he doesn’t want to change that, he’s just trying to get a degree and move to a city that isn’t here (or Amity).
The first time he saw one of the Bats he was absolutely terrified, but now he responds to it with the energy of a minimum wage customer service worker. Absolute apathy and exhaustion. Just “can I help you. No? ok. now get out of my house.”
At least he doesn’t have any time to worry about secretly being evil because of his parents, that took up a significant amount of his time, especially after the Dan incident
consider: danny son of Joker
All Sharp Angles
Danny had always known that he was adopted; far before his parents had actually up and told him, anyways.
He’d just never looked like his family.
Where his parents were soft curves, he was all hard angles. He was lean and slender, almost willowy once he got his growth spurt, where his parents were broader and thicker-built.
Where his father’s hair was a warm, light black, like a cup of coffee, his was dark and cold like an oil spill.
Even his eyes were wrong; sure, his father’s eyes were blue too, but his were far darker. Danny’s were as light and frigid as arctic ice; even before he had died, they had never reflected enough light to seem alive.
So, when his parents finally told him the truth once he turned 15, it was honestly more of a relief than anything else. He wasn’t uniquely strange, he just didn’t look like his parents because he wasn’t related to them.
Still, he couldn’t help but be curious as to where he had come from. Sure, he liked his parents’ stories about the Fenton family and their rich (probably false) history, but he had roots branching elsewhere, too.
So, with money he had earned from washing cars and mowing lawns, he had bought a DNA test for 50 dollars, and sent a vial of blood in to whatever shady company he had bought it from.
The results…
He stared at the letter in shock.
He had already crumpled to the ground; luckily, he had been standing on the plush carpet of his room rather than the kitchen tile when he had opened it.
Father - Unknown
Mother - Dr. Harleen Quinzel
Fuck. Fuck.
That couldn’t be right, could it?
He checked the reviews of the company with manic speed; not a single other person had been named as being related to a rogue.
Could it be a prank?
Surely, the actual Harley Quinn never had time to have a child. Or, if she did, she would’ve been made to keep it by the Joker.
He began to google in a daze.
After a few minutes, he had his answer.
The longest time that the Joker had ever been in Arkham was for a year and a month.
He had gone in roughly 9 months before Danny was born, which technically gave Harley the time to have a child, put it up for adoption, and lose some of the baby fat before the Joker came back, all without him ever knowing.
Harley had also been mysteriously inactive for most of that time, too, which only gave more credibility to his theory.
What was he supposed to do with this, though?
It’s not like he could tell anyone. It’s not like it really changed anything in his day to day life, aside from his entire worldview.
Obviously he told Sam and Tucker, as well as Jazz after a few days.
Obviously he didn’t tell his parents.
In the end, not much came of it.
It was just another fact of life, another thing eating away at Danny’s mind. Another fear to internalize.
He had gotten so good at ignoring it, in fact, that he didn’t even remember where he came from when he was accepted to Gotham U, and drove a whole day to the only university willing to give him a scholarship.
…Well, as long as he keeps his nose out of trouble, it won’t matter much anyways. After all, what are the odds he actually meets anyone who might be able to figure it out?
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meiieiri · 8 months ago
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𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]
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synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.
pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer
warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.
word count. 3k~
“Why can’t you do anything right?”
Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.
He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.
Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.
“Water.”
Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.
Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.
His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”
“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”
You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.
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“It’ll be a painful decline.”
Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.
Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.
“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.
“A year, maybe even less.”
“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”
The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.
There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.
“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”
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“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”
By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.
Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.
You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.
“Are you alright?!”
Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.
Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“
“—Save it.”
What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.
At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.
Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.
“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”
“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”
You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.
“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”
Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.
“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”
Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.
“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.
Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.
“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.
Now, your giggles have gone silent.
Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.
More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.
Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.
He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.
Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.
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“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”
Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.
The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”
Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”
You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”
“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”
“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”
“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”
You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”
You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?
“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”
He loses it at that.
“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”
You are left speechless at that.
Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.
You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”
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“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”
You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.
“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.
“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”
You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.
Instantly, it dawns on you.
“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.
“She will,” he answers simply.
And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.
But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.
You were a devoted wife, through and through.
And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.
“Okay.”
Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.
“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.
“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.
“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.
When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”
“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”
You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”
He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”
Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”
Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.
“I will. I promise.”
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But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.
“Babe, can you say that again?”
Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.
“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”
“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“
Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”
You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”
“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.
You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“
“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”
You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.
And you weren’t scared.
Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”
He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.
“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”
“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.
Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.
“Toji.”
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“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”
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bunnys-kisses · 25 days ago
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sibling situation
simon 'ghost' riley
cw: smut & plot, mactavish!reader, size kink/difference, missionary sex, unprotected sex, marriage & babies (at the end), romance, simon's found family
this rabbit runs on reblogs & comments! feed the rabbit!
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simon knew that johnny had a sister. you had been brought up in conversation tons of times. after the death of your parents, you and johnny were really all each other had. but johnny left for the military right before turning eighteen and you struggled to put yourself through university. it wasn't the easiest life and simon could understand, he had his own scars of his childhood.
"so, why are you dragging me out here again, johnny?"
"get ya out of that shoe box flat. got a little more leg room where i am."
johnny had driven the car all the way to edinburgh with a promise that a little time away would do wonders for the other man. simon had his ear talked off about how london was just too big, and while edinburgh was a city. it would be a break from the intense metropolitan of london. if need be the two of them and you could go on a getaway to the countryside.
"this better be good, johnny."
"ah, don't worry! i promise, you'll have the time of your life!" johnny reached over and slapped his friend on the back, "plus, you have to meet my sister."
the flat that you shared with johnny was well kept. of course it was, your brother was out most of the year with an automatic deposit for rent and when he was home, it was so ingrained with the military that things were kept tidy. and you on the other hand enjoyed tidiness as well.
even if cleaning the place in his absence felt a bit much sometimes, you still at least picked up your socks off the floor, put the clean dishes in the cupboard and washed out the carafe of the coffee maker. but you had worked over time to make sure everything was perfect, not for your brother (he could clean himself), but rather the mysterious guest that he was bringing.
you didn't want his lieutenant to think you lived like animals!
when the knock on the front door came, you happily welcomed them. your gaze was captured away from your grinning brother and rather the larger man beside him. he wore a black medical face mark, but you could see the tiredness in his eyes. the mop of blond hair and a slight scar over his eyebrow.
"oh, kid, this simon. simon riley, my lt." johnny smiled, patting his fellow solider on the arm.
you shot him a glance, "i'm almost thirty, johnny. i'm far from a kid." you were a bite fiery, simon liked that.
johnny beamed back at you, "but you'll always be my little sister. gotten into trouble while i was gone?"
you let both men in and replied, "well except for yelling at those stupid kids from the secondary school about smoking in front of my window. nothing else really happened."
johnny dropped his bags on the hardwood floor and kicked off his boots. he put them correctly by the door before he stretched his arms over his head, "where's that guy you were seein'. teddy or somethin'?"
simon stood a little straighter. of course you had a boyfriend, look at you!
you waved your hand, "oh, he's long gone. i guess cousin nikki's words are true." you looked at your brother, "never date a man in finance. turns out he had more than one bonnie in his pocket."
johnny dropped his shoulders and remarked, "never liked the guy anyway. seemed a little uptight, would never survive a gathering of the mactavish's." he laughed.
simon felt odd in the space. seeing the siblings interacting. he thought of his own brother for a moment. instead he just followed suit and took off his heavy boots as well.
you looked at simon, "i hope it's okay that you take the couch. this place is only two bedrooms. the couch." you gestured to it, "does pull out so hopefully you'll have enough room. but, if you don't, tomorrow my lovely brother can give up his room."
"my room!" johnny replied loudly, "i've still got sand in my crack for the mission and you're givin' my room!"
you shot your brother a glance which johnny coward from. no words had to be said. johnny knew that it would be the right thing to do. after all, simon was his guest.
the afternoon went by slowly, and you and johnny moved through the small kitchen like a team. johnny was good at dicing and you were good at keeping an eye on the sauteeing vegetables.
"simon." you said which made simon look up from his spot at the small dining table. your eyes met and you pushed some hair out of your face, "two things. one, there should be a headband on the table it's soft and used for make-up. i need to get this hair out of my eyes. secondly, johnny never said that you had any dietary issues. is there anything i should avoid? i just sort of got our normal grocery order."
simon perked a little bit more, "oh i don't have any allergies or anything, ma'am." he gave a small nod, "i could eat anythin'."
you nodded, "okay, excellent!"
the blond found in endearing. it was almost hypnotic watching you put together the vegetables with the hearty pasta sauce. you worked a stove top like no other. the only problem was that your brother kept getting in the way of his sight of you.
been a while since a woman cooked him a meal.
simon got up quickly and gave you the headband. it was soft and pink colour with two sewn on cat ears made of the same material. you put it on and simon's heart skipped a beat. you were just so beautiful.
dinner of pasta, toasted buns and salad were served with a bottle of grocery store wine. the three of you drank, ate and chatted. you and johnny had most of the conversation while simon enjoyed listening.
he figured out that he could listen to you talk forever.
"well, i'm tired." johnny said as he rubbed his eyes. he finished the rest of his wine before he got up. he patted you on the top of the head, "i'll do the dishes in the mornin'. thanks for dinner, kid."
you rolled your eyes, pouring yourself another glass, "i'm not a kid."
johnny chuckled then looked to simon, "she'll get ya comfortable for the evenin'. i'll see ya tomorrow." before his tired steps headed towards the bedroom. soon the door closed and the sound of his body hitting the bed could be softly heard.
you leaned back in the kitchen chair, one leg draped over the other with your arms crossed. you admitted, "it must be hard to date. finding someone who understands your world."
simon stretched out a little more in his chair. he eyed the empty wine glass in front of him, "i try not to think about it so hard."
"i've heard stories about you. the terrifying ghost. there one moment, gone the next." you then reached across the table to drag a finger down the inside of simon's wrist, "i wonder if i had you in my bed tonight, if you'd be gone by morning."
your admission made simon's dark eyes grow a little wider. he said, "well, i have nowhere else to go."
you smiled a little, "must be lonely. i know it's lonely for me. to feel close to someone."
simon asked, "do you want to sleep with me miss mactavish?"
you chuckled lowly, as to not awake your brother in his room. you leaned back a little once more and gazed at him. you were definitely johnny's brother. the look in your eye said it all. you tilted your head a little to the side and asked, "is it that obvious, mister riley?"
the sound of wooden chairs against the floor as the two of you made your way to the bedroom. you took simon by his tattooed wrist and got him into your room. the door was shut a little louder than you hoped. you turned on the light and simon was already working the belt of his jeans.
you were quick to get your t-shirt off and you saw simon's hungry gaze on you as you became free of your clothes. his eyes raked the exposed skin and thought you looked like a dream.
"like what you see, simon?"
he nodded, "more beautiful than the photos, ma'am."
you covered your mouth while you giggled, "no need for the formalities. if my brother is underranked by you, then i'm sure as hell as a civilian."
simon got a hold of your waist, "you deserve a little more respect than your brother." then pulled you in for a soft kiss. even with his scars that you had seen over dinner. you thought he was beautiful.
it made you warm all over as you pulled the dark t-shirt on his shoulders. he helped you get out of it. and your hands pressed against his chest. you admired the scars, the tattoos, the overall beauty of him.
"i wish my brother had said his lt was hot prior. i would've tried to get with you sooner."
simon picked you up by the waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brought you to the bed and sat you down. he then started to work at the button of your jeans. once they were off, he cupped the bulge in his pants.
you slipped out of your simple purple panties and the white bra you wore. you then laid out on your bed with your hands behind your head and you giggled softly.
simon was absolutely smitten by you. he had come to the conclusion that when they were talking about the beauties in scotland. they meant you. and only you. once you were both naked, he got onto the bed.
the bed was a bit smaller than he had hoped, but you two could fit into it thankfully. he was worried that his large, bulkier frame would inch you off of the mattress. but it was a lot easier when he got between your legs. his achy erection, bright red at the tip, begged for attention.
you swallowed a little, "i wonder if it'll fit."
"then you tell me if it does. got it? you mactavish's have a habit of not showing pain." simon gave you a pointed gaze.
you covered your face for a minute, "okay. talk about my brother ends here. i don't want to hear about him while you're balls deep inside of me."
simon chuckled lightly and leaned in for another kiss. he said softly, close to your lips, "if it's anything, love. you're much more a looker than he is."
you held onto his blond locks and pulled him in for a hot kiss. you made a small noise when he shifted your hips up against him. to get a better angle of his cock inside of you.
"simon."
he said softly, his voice still gravely, "beautiful, beautiful girl. i don't know what that last boyfriend of yours was thinkin'. why want another when he could have you. but, i guess that means more for me."
your cheeks grew hot and simon pressed his cock up against you wet slit. you felt your heartbeat race at the anticipation of what was to come. you tensed up at the feeling of his cock being pushed into it.
"i got ya, i got ya. you feel so good there, love."
you nodded, "it's been a while. sorry if i'm too.. tight."
simon loomed over you like a comforting shadow. he gazed down at you, but there was a softness to his tired eyes. you didn't realize how pretty his eyes were. a deep dark brown, that lured you in while in the soft lighting of your bedroom.
he started to move against you and you let out a small moan. the bed squeaked a little bit. thankfully the frame didn't hit the wall. you two had to be somewhat quiet. even if your brother could be heard snoring in the room next to yours.
the sex between you two was quick, but not rough. the idea of bruising such a beauty made simon feel disgusted. you were meant to be cherished. he wanted to know everything about you.
"you are quite handsome, simon."
"thank you, love." he said softly as he held onto your thighs and moved against you. even in missionary you looked beautiful. the slight bounce of your breasts in time with his movements. he wanted to kiss all your soft parts throughout his visit in your sweet home.
he could get used to a warm meal and a warm cunt to bury himself into every night. maybe johnny was right, staying with you was better than being in london.
maybe he could get used to scotland.
he knew he could fit easily into the chaos of the mactavish family. if he could handle johnny, then he could handle you. at least he could fuck one of you quiet.
you felt your heart hammering at the feeling of it all. your noises were so sweet that it made simon need to bury himself deeper inside of you. he needed to feel all you could offer.
call him a sick puppy, but his brain was now wired to need you. you were a hit of a feeling that simon was so painfully unfamiliar with that it almost scared him. but as he admired the sight of you under him.
those soft lips partially opened, your eyes closed. you looked like an angel, and he swore he found heaven.
"beautiful." he said softly, his rugged voice made you feel like honey. gooey and warm, filling.
you came with your hands in his shaggy blond hair. your back arched as you felt the heat through you. you moaned a little louder than you hoped for as he continued to thrust up into you.
panting breaths between heavy thrusts as you laid spread out on the bed, letting simon move quicken his pace to reach his climax. he could feel it on the tip of his tongue. and with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside of you. his cheeks flushed and his mouth hung open in a heavy pant.
"fuck, simon."
"beautiful." he said absently. not able to think of much else besides your beauty. you were the kind of woman that simon was into.
he pulled out of you and rested down beside you on bed. you chuckled softly, your head still a little full of post orgasmic bliss. you got the covers on top of you and cuddled him naked.
clothed would be a worry in the morning.
when morning came, simon tried to slink back to the couch before johnny woke up. but when he exited your room and entered the main living space. he found johnny sitting there at the kitchen table. he was leaned back into his seat. simon caught sight of the pistol on the worn wooden table.
"so, si." johnny said, looking away from his paper to look at his fellow solider, "what are yer intentions with my sister?"
it had been a very long time since simon felt the stone of dread in his stomach. he tried not to show it across his scarred face. simon could instantly recall every military statistic that johnny had. there could be a million and one ways that the scottish solider could kill simon. and it wasn't like simon could do anything, he couldn't kill your brother.
there was a brief moment of silence between the two of them. neither made a motion or noise. simon wondered what was to come next. no amount of training could've prepared him for this.
but johnny broke the silence with laughter, "i'm just messin' with ya! the gun's not even loaded. just wanted to scare ya." he leaned forward in his seat. he looked at simon, "i don't care how my sister sees, but i have to be a little bit intimidating, don't ya think so, si?"
simon chuckled nervously.
johnny's suddenly expression dropped and he put down his paper in favour of the unloaded pistol. he pointed the front of it to simon, one eye closed as if he was going to shoot the blond in front of him. he said, "but if you break her heart there, simon. i won't be so forgiving."
the doorway to your bedroom opened with a loud creak and your voice rang through the apartment the three of you were in, "I swear to god! john michael mactavish! you better not be intimidating him!"
-
"you're seriously crying?" you asked your brother as you watched him gently take a hold of your newborn. your brother was a military man for christ's sake. he was weeping like a baby.
simon loomed over his colleague, protective over his newborn. his stern brown gaze read simply, "don't fuck it up, soap." he was ready to jump in if johnny fucked it up.
you were resting back in the hospital room, you just had your child with simon. you two had been married for a little over three years. it became habit for simon to come with johnny post-missions. the drive up to the city and you waiting for them.
a hug for your brother, a kiss for your lover.
now you were watching your brother cry at the sight of his nephew. the chubby little boy bundled up in a blanket. unaware of his weepy uncle. you looked at him with a slightyl stunned expression.
you probably cried less when you finally pushed him out. you didn't want to tell him the news because you thought he was going to cry more. while your son's first name was oliver, his middle name was john. after the crying mactavish in the hospital room.
"he really takes after us." john remarked when his cries died down.
you chuckled, "he sure does, johnny. now hand him over before you drop him." <3
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago
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astonmartinii · 1 month ago
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knives out | lewis hamilton social media au
pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader
2016 saw the murder of brocedes right before our very eyes, but who got y/n in the will?
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
- part of the brother's best friend series -
yourusername
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liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 751,209 others
tagged: nicorosberg
yourusername: back in barcelona! nothing has ever happened here, right? RIGHT?
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user1: when i'm in a victim of brocedes contest and y/n rosberg turns up
user2: nico was like "oh, lewis has had a good qualifying... here comes the curse"
user3: he's the hater we should all aspire to be
nicorosberg: barcelona is a beautiful place but you should pick your company well!
yourusername: great advice nico, i should've left you at home
nicorosberg: snore! i'm great company you just can't keep up with my great personality and wit
yourusername: what ever you need to tell yourself old man
nicorosberg: i'm two years older than you?
yourusername: how was the industrial revolution?
user4: i hope they never grow up and always argue in public
user5: omg the argument on sky about lewis v seb in canada... and jenson just stood there with the biggest shit-eating grin ever
lewishamilton: my trauma is not your joke
yourusername: it was my trauma too i was the one who had to listen to him complain for the next TWO WEEKS
lewishamilton: trying to find where i care...
yourusername: you complained first ??
lewishamilton: rightly so!
yourusername: do not tussle with me about this, by now i thought you'd know that us rosbergs don't play about complaining
lewishamilton: believe me my therapist knows that
user6: i know nico sat on his hands forcing himself not to comment back
user7: alternatively, celebrating that he still lives in lewis' head
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lewishamilton
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liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 2,305,899 others
tagged: yourusername
lewishamilton: @yourusername i may love you but if that man ever takes a picture of my car i'm putting a hit on his head
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user11: we got a relationship reveal and a death threat all in one post
user12: lewis saw yall ready to make a brocedes edit using this race and made sure you knew that he doesn't care about a his old haunts
user13: he was like yall shipping me with the wrong rosberg
yourusername: let's refrain from threats for now
lewishamilton: we're gonna have to get rid of that last name, no more curses
nicorosberg: RIGHT THAT IS IT IF YOU DARE GET MARRIED DOUBLE-BARRELLED OR ELSE, ROSBERGS ARE ELITE AND YOU WISH YOU HAD THIS NAME
yourusername: he does have a point
lewishamilton: i'm for real going to lose my mind that we haven't spoken in years and this is where he drew the line
nicorosberg: you told the world you're dating my sister at the same time as me
lewishamilton: stop cursing me then 🤨
nicorosberg: i don't curse you my devilish good looks just sent your engine into cardiac arrest
user14: i know toto wolff just fell to his knees in the mercedes garage seeing them bicker in instagram comments after making merc a literal warzone for years
user15: and yet this is the most brocedes way to go about it
georgerussell63: even if you're dating his sister, i'm still your favourite teammate right?
yourusername: valterri exists buddy soz
georgerussell63: *clutches my pearls*
lewishamilton: and that is exactly why valterri is my favourite teammate
georgerussell63: whatever 💁🏻‍♀️
charles_leclerc: not for long xx
yourusername: whoever can bring me the best coffee can get the crown?
lewishamilton: stop exploiting my teammate and future teammate
yourusername: that's what they're there for?
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yourusername
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tagged: lewishamilton
yourusername: anything happen this week?
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user19: y/n ruining her brother's week - anything happen this week?
user20: more like year
nicorosberg: more like life
yourusername: drama queen
nicorosberg: as i should be !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
yourusername: got enough exclamation marks in there buddy
nicorosberg: no open the door i need to scream directly in your ears
yourusername: if it's any consolation, the relationship started after 2016
nicorosberg: so he got me out of the way so he could go for my little sister 🤨
lewishamilton: yep!
nicorosberg: no i'm serious let me in i need to yell
nicorosberg: I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE I CAN HEAR ROSCOE
nicorosberg: fine i'll just abseil from my apartment give me a sec
user21: y/n please let him in he's so serious about that i can feel it
user22: anyone from monaco here and want to keep us updated?
danielricciardo: Y/N LET HIM IN HE NEARLY KICKED MY POTTED PLANT OFF THE BALCONY
yourusername: lol
danielricciardo: THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER PLEASE
lewishamilton: fine, you people are such bores
nicorosberg: i nearly lost a birkenstock
yourusername: and my inheritance nearly doubled
lewishamilton: *our
user23: i think lewis is having way too much fun with this
nicorosberg
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tagged: yourusername
nicorosberg: we're back at the track and i've got a sneaking feeling that the red bull might be fast around here
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user24: nico said babe won't catch me posting lewis on my instagram
maxverstappen1: sure thing buddy he's dating your sister, but there's NO NEED TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME
nicorosberg: i said you're going to win?
maxverstappen1: i DON'T NEED YOUR BAD JUJU GIVE IT TO LEWIS HE'S THE ONE YOU'RE ANGRY AT NOT ME
nicorosberg: i'm not angry at lewis
lewishamilton: really?
nicorosberg: OF COURSE NOT
yourusername: he'll get over it soon lewis don't worry
lewishamilton: really? he's still holding a grudge from 2016 - that was EIGHT YEARS AGO
yourusername: yeah sorry that's a rosberg trait ❤️
user25: not the grid becoming victims of the brocedes fall out eight years later
yourusername: you're so shady why did you crop lewis out?
nicorosberg: outfit wasn't on par with the rosbergs
yourusername: oh no
lewishamilton: HOW DARE YOU
yourusername: you queens can take this out on each other i'm not getting involved in this one
lewishamilton: i know this birkenstock wearing primadonna is not dissing my custom mcqueen
nicorosberg: it's custom because no one would want something so ugly 🫶🏻
user26: someone take nico off the parc ferme interviews lewis might just run him over
user27: he should just let roscoe at his ankles
nicorosberg: that vegan dog can't do shit to me
yourusername: leave the kids out of it nico
nicorosberg: you birthed that? my condolences to your reproductive system
lewishamilton: DO NOT FAT SHAME MY SON
roscoelovescoco: kill yourself @nicorosberg
user28: WTF IS GOING ON
lewishamilton
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tagged: yourusername
lewishamilton: he may have won the battle, but i won the war
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user29: bro you're going to be subjected to boho chic Christmases for the rest of your life
user30: guy is going to get poisoned via christmas nut roast by nico 😭
yourusername: this is corny but i love you
lewishamilton: i love you too i'm going to pretend you didn't just call my super thought out caption corny
yourusername: it was corny and that's what i love about you
nicorosberg: you need better standards
yourusername: for someone who had so much homoerotic tension with the man that you retired you're being very rude about the subject of such tension
nicorosberg: that's not how that went
yourusername: sure, jan
nicorosberg: stop trying to rewrite history
yourusername: i saw it with my own two eyes... are you jealous that i ended up with lewis instead of you?
nicorosberg: nO
user31: i feel like this is definitely not the argument i thought i would see on the internet today
user32: lewis hamilton got passed around the rosberg house ... this your goat?
user33: both rosbergs are hawt as hell so yes!
charles_leclerc: oh great, keep stoking the flames lewis! if you invoke his wrath upon ferrari next season i will personally sacrifice you to the gods
lewishamilton: excuse me?
charles_leclerc: i don't know if you know this but i kinda don't have a world championship yet ... I DO NOT WANT THE ROSBERG CURSE ATTACHED TO ME
lewishamilton: do not minimise my trauma charles
charles_leclerc: you haven't joined ferrari yet, you don't know trauma. be nice to him, i can't finish my career with max having more championships than me
maxverstappen1: skill issue
user34: do these people ever stop arguing?
yourusername: no! and i can assure you it's worse in person
user35: worst brocedes tussle since nico found out?
yourusername: i was making a list of people to invite to my birthday dinner and nico was angry that i wrote lewis' name before his
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tagged: lewishamilton, nicorosberg
yourusername: still a victim of the brocedes nuclear fallout all these years later
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user37: bro nearly lost her bf to her brother
user38: lewis couldn't have nico and went for his sister instead
user39: insert larry stylinson theory here that y/n is just the beard and toto wolff is simon cowell
yourusername: i'm blocking all of you
nicorosberg: still yapping about this ... and i'm the dramatic one
yourusername: babe we can all see all of your comments on previous posts where you're the literal definition of crashing out
nicorosberg: BARCELONA WAS LEWIS' FAULT WE ALL KNOW THIS
yourusername: when did i bring up barcelona... you just proved my point IDIOT
nicorosberg: make me sound insane all you want ... TOTO IS THE REAL VILLAIN HERE
yourusername: ???
nicorosberg: he notebooked us
yourusername: riiiiiiiiiiight
nicorosberg: i wrote lewis a letter when i retired and toto never gave it to him
yourusername: you're telling me i had to hide my relationship for so long because you trusted that austrian big foot fraud to be your messenger pigeon ?
user40: did we just get insane brocedes lore on a random tuesday?
user41: you're telling me it was toto's fault the whole time?
lewishamilton: well yes it would've been helpful to have gotten the letter, you have to admit the sneeking around was hot
yourusername: you're right 🤭🤭🤭
lewishamilton: hiding in your bathroom while nico came over to bitch about me was a personal highlight
nicorosberg: excuse me?
lewishamilton: i know we're trying to be better, so here's a compliment: you're very creative when being mean about me
nicorosberg: why thank you 😝
yourusername: nuh uh we ain't doing this shit
lewishamilton: don't worry y/n you'll always be my favourite
nicorosberg: but you'll never have our trip to greece :P
yourusername: i will strangle you britney
user42: y/n got brocedes to talk again, but at what cost?
lewishamilton
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liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc and 4,677,309 others
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lewishamilton: got y/n's hand in marriage in the will (after i murdered her brother's career)
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user43: y/n can't escape brocedes even on her engagement post
user44: she (and them) will never get rid of it
yourusername: i love you baby, here's to the rest of our life (even if that includes you arguing with my brother for the rest of time)
lewishamilton: i love you even more, i'd go through all of that psychological warfare again and again if it means i still end up with you
yourusername: we've always had an invisible string
lewishamilton: and there's no one else i'd want to be cosmically tied to <3
user45: i might cry they're so cute
user46: that comment thread called me single in about 100 different languages
charles_leclerc: congratulations you two! also congratulations to me - no more rosberg curse!
yourusername: really? on this POST?
charles_leclerc: hold on girlypop, it was mr hamilton-rosberg that brought up your brother first not me
lewishamilton: you better get all this attitude out now charles
charles_leclerc: what? you gonna marry my brother?
yourusername: lol i'm not threatened by them
arthurleclerc: why am i being shaded?
user47: 2025 HURRY THE FUCK UP
nicorosberg: i guess you're finally getting the rosberg name you've always wanted ...
lewishamilton: yes... i have always had a crush on your sister
nicorosberg: GASP! PERVERT 🫵🏻 i have known you since we were 12 you GROSS MAN
lewishamilton: WELL YES I WAS ALSO 12 I'VE NOT ALWAYS BEEN 36 MORON
yourusername: well doesn't this just get me excited for christmas
user48: i know a monopoly board hate to see these three coming
yourusername: @nicorosberg can i have an actual congratulations???
nicorosberg: i'm happy for you, i'm glad you're happy (also he's loaded so slay)
yourusername: i'll take it!
lewishamilton: sure whatever thanks nico !
fin.
note: lol finally finished this one! i have been very in and out on here, i have a lot going on x
2K notes · View notes
hazelfoureyes · 9 months ago
Text
A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)
saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)
Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127
Minors DNI
When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.
The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.
So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.
Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.
But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.
When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.
Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.
You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.
The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.
Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”
He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”
“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.
“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.
Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.
“And?”
“What are you doing?”
“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”
You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.
“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.
“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.
You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.
“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.
“Huh? Do what?”
“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”
“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”
"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."
You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."
A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."
Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.
"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.
"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.
"Sir." He chided.
"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."
"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.
A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.
You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.
“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.
He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.
“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.
You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.
As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.
When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.
“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.
“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.
“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.
“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”
“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”
“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”
His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.
“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.
You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.
When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.
“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.
His tongue slowed.
“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.
Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.
So close.
“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.
You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.
Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.
Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.
With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.
You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.
“Yes, sir.”
*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out
༻Masterlist༺
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cheekypriest · 4 months ago
Text
"Suppose it goes both ways... when something wonderful happens, people are quick to put it down to some sort of miracle. Just as when someone does something particularly heinous, it's easier on the mind to believe it was the Devil himself that made them do it rather than accept that humanity can represent both the best and worst our kind has to offer." That, James could certainly concede without hesitation. He had no qualms about the fact that his fellow humans could commit unspeakable acts, just as they could also do amazing things as well. He'd seen it enough times for himself, being sent on a wild goose chase to investigate suspicious activity that had reached the Vatican, only to discover there was no demonic presence involved but simply the twisted cruelty that humankind was also capable of.
At times, it was a sobering thought, to see the comparisons draw ever closer to one another, some actions so atrocious that he too might wish there was something more to it, something of the supernatural to really explain it. But that wasn't always the case and he had to keep going with that burning knowledge in the back of his mind that some people truly were comparable to genuine and pure evil.
The thought itself was enough to weigh down on his chest, those little snippets of pain that bore from his soul, screaming at the top of his lungs that he'd seen too much in his life and wouldn't wish any of it upon anyone else, not even an enemy.
"Stubborn, gorgeous and smart..." The Brit began as one of his sly smiles returned, washing over a moment of pained reflection. "Really is a dangerous mix, that." He mused with a growing curve, still somewhat amused by the whole thing and wishing that when the two parted, that Connor would forget about all of it and never look back, just walk away and laugh over the strange and mouthy priest he'd met over a perplexing and forever unsolved case. But he could see more than that, that same stubbornness and intelligence wouldn't let the man simply forget it, he'd dig deeper, poke his nose into aspects of the world that he didn't know, that he didn't need to know and that was perilous in itself. Stubborn, determined and resilient or not, James wasn't about to let him wander down that path without him by his side -- - if he'd let him, of course. It wasn't as though he had any real authority over the guy at that moment, he didn't have some sort of Vatican identity card that he could flash like he was police or the FBI. No, it was far more discreet than that yet no less important, no less treacherous.
"Oh, I don't know... most people take one look at the collar and decide I'm either a religious zealot or a grifter. Suppose I'm a bit of both, in a way." Another joke, evidently, though perhaps now wasn't the best time for it seeing as some would genuinely label him as 'crazy' for truly believing there were demons literally riding people's bodies and souls into eternal damnation. When he put it like that in his own head even he could see how ridiculous it all sounded on the face of it. But that was the problem, wasn't it? He'd thought the same a long time ago, looking at his own father, a priest and exorcist, though the latter the boy hadn't known, he'd just known his father was never home, believing he was on some endless religious crusade while everyone else looked to him as though he were a saint. James hadn't felt the same way, as a child, a teen, all he'd seen was a man who was never there for his family, never there to see his son grow up, wasn't there when he learned how to ride his first bike, wasn't there to help him pull out his first baby tooth, wasn't there to kick a football back and forth with. Everything had been left up to his mother, leaving the boy to wonder why his father was never home, why he barely held any tangible position in his own family. It wasn't until James had been faced with the true horror of it all that he'd finally understood and by then? It was too late.
That was why he was so determined, so adamant that the detective shouldn't have to go to such lengths purely to truly understand.
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"Looks like you're placing me in the former category... although, I'm sure I can work with that." If it was even possible, his smile seemed to shift into something even more cheeky, a mischievous grin claiming his face as a light bout of laughter finally took him. "Distinguished gentleman? Now I know you're after something." He couldn't quite stop himself from teasing the man, it had been a few minutes too long for the priest's liking, he had to throw something in for good measure, didn't he? "Depending on what it is... you just might get it." Another wink was thrown at the man as he notably looked rather pleased with himself, a quiet chuckle leaving him as he sat back in his chair, stretching his neck to look back at the cup of coffee that he'd long since abandoned for something stronger. By now, of course, it was probably room temperature and likely had enough dust particles to coat his insides. That was one thing about the newer building he hated, it seemed possible to keep clean, dirt and dust just seemed to accumulate from nothing. Though he had his suspicions that most of it came from the donated furniture that, by the looks of the couch and armchairs, might be older than Connor himself.
Yet as he eyed the forgotten mug, it was a question that caught his attention again, snapping back to look at the man with a thoroughly pleased look on his face. "You noticed that then?" He mused with a small nod to himself, sinking back further into the chair as his arms crossed over his chest. It wasn't deliberate to come across as if shutting the American out, but more of a self-soothing gesture, one he wasn't even aware of. "If I tell you that, detective, I'm afraid I'd have to kill you." Barely a moment passed before he was unable to hold himself together, letting out a hearty round of laughter as he suddenly sat himself up again, a grin taking up his entire face. "Sorry, mate, couldn't resist." It probably wasn't a huge surprise for Connor by now, he was rather quick-witted himself, picked things up with ease, so the priest's rather unorthodox manner could well be expected by now. Much to James' old mentors' annoyance, the Brit could imagine.
"Why? Can't believe someone would hoof it all the way from Rome to move into this cosey little neighbourhood? Maybe I spent the last few months waiting with bated breath just hoping the previous bloke would be taking retirement soon so I could step in?" That was probably one of the most obvious lies of the day, not that he was short of time to throw a few more in before the sun went down. "Long story short? You're right. A few tall tales reach the Vatican and Bob's-your-uncle, here I am to scope out the place. Make sure our rambunctious cousins across the pond are spared from damnation." It was definitely the abridged and playful version, but he saw no reason to hide it completely since the guy had already figured it out for himself. Lying to him now wouldn't do either of them any good or any favours. "Honestly? The whole congregation and confessionals part of it all were never really my thing. Don't mind stepping in for any number of reasons but, you know... I just do as I'm told at the end of the day, like a good little priest." A sentence that was a jumbled and complicated mix of a lie and truth, made all the more evident by the same devilish look that had settled into the man's features. "Besides, if I told you the ins and outs of it all, you wouldn't believe me anyway. None of it's real, after all, right?" He teased the detective again, well aware that he was likely pushing his luck. "So, nothing to worry your pretty head about. You just leave the underhanded chicanery to the real experts."
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It wasn't unexpected that a man of god, especially one as particularly outspoken as the priest in his company, might offer a difference of opinion in regards to this peculiar subject which had been brought into the light. A slow progression, as James had taken care to cast any talks of the demonic into the shadows until he felt it absolutely necessary. Even then, he was tactful. Probing that clever mind of Connor's was like a game of chess, both deliberate & precise with every well planned move. Yet neither felt at odds, merely two of differing beliefs & parallel ambitions. It was clear that the longer the older man spoke that he was well & truly convinced that there was demonic influence involved in this case, as well as the aforementioned account. As much as Connor tried to make the connection, he couldn't, as he was as intrinsically tied to the tangible & the scientific.
He didn't see this death as anything more than a strange happening that might eventually be explained with something worldly. But he wasn't going to denounce the priest as delusional, certainly not mad. He was perhaps a passionate being of faith, one who used his wisdom & a hopeful outlook to aid the needy. There were those who needed spiritual guidance, the very kind men like James might provide. The detective imagined that a passionate person like the priest might do a lot of good for others, for his flock.
Maybe he was looking at this through rose tinted glasses. Yes, the Father was a handsome & well spoken man, clearly highly educated in both his field & whatever else he might fancy. He also appeared to hold a firm belief in the infernal, & in demonic possession. Connor didn't want to let himself drift down that slippery slope towards the fine grain of suspicion he felt. Past cases of religious zealots which had been confronted with situations in which they felt their loved one was possessed, of corrupt people of the church whom had taken matters into their own hands to cleanse the perceived evil from the afflicted victim.
The detective recalled one such instance from years ago, long before he was on the force or even considering it a professional option. Something that had bothered him enough to stick in his mind, found during a search of the archives in service to a cold case he'd taken an interest in. But that lone file had found him first, & the horrors inside had left him baffled. A young woman kept in captivity against her will by the family she had trusted, subjected to a grotesque theater of exorcism by a self-proclaimed exorcist. By the time police were involved, the girl was dead. Starved & stricken by infections from her many wounds that had finally taken her life as sepsis ravaged her weakened body. More than one of the ligatures had cut deep into the skin, & without medical intervention, she had been doomed to withering away.
The so-called exorcist had been sentenced for intentional negligent homicide, the family members who participated put away for life for murder in the first degree. It still unsettled Connor to think about it years later, but the mention of the demonic in correlation with the mysterious death of Alan Moore brought the case to mind. Silently, the detective was going over the details of Moore's autopsy in his head, scrutinizing every minor notation. As far as he could tell, no such situation occurred as that which had befallen that girl. No bindings, evidence of any kind that another individual had been in his home nor made contact with him recently. The detective decided that he wanted to revisit the scene again. Later, when he'd cleared his head.
He looked at James in a somewhat critical light for a brief but uncomfortable instance. Did he think this man was at all capable of committing such a crime? The answer was decidedly no . The priest might have been an upstart, just a little pretentious & devilishly witty, but he was no murderer. Connor doubted that the man wouldn't flinch at the sight of blood, let alone another in any kind of real pain, physically or emotional. A good, decent soul.
Connor's expression softened as he spoke. “The mind is a very powerful thing. I've seen the aftermath of incredible things that could all be contributed to the power of suggestion.” Which wasn't at all a flippant proclamation; humans were capable of incredible things, even supernatural things once the barriers of the body were momentarily lifted by the mind. People performing incredible feats of strength when faced with imminent danger of themselves or loved ones, those who had survived the impossible. While the priest might envision these instances as miracles, or the account of a woman who had levitated & attacked her husband in an afflicted state as possessed, Connor saw a woman who, in during a psychotic episode, exerted enough control of her body that she seemingly defied the laws of physics.
Nevertheless, he refused to express his musings upon their conflicting points of view. Though they disagreed, the detective was remarkably respectful. One might have anticipated that a man of his age would call the priest neurotic, a lunatic, or push his own science-based narrative upon him. Connor did none of those things. He listened. He was patient, understanding. He granted the same courtesy to James as he would to anyone else who was genuine with him. The detective may have admitted that his own psychology dulled his capacity for empathetic connection, but he showed it in spades with the priest.
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“You keep attributing your views to insanity, as though you believe that I'll agree with that observation.” Once again, he chose to lighten the mood with a little teasing, his words tinted with the gentlest hints of laughter. Just a touch of amusement to quell the unease. He could tell that this kind of discussion around the unholy rattled the older man. He wanted to help keep him focused, not just for his investigation… but for his own interests as well. Selfish little devil that he was. He leaned in just that little bit closer. He realized his coffee had long since been forgotten, though neither seemed to give it a second thought. “I don't think you're crazy. & yes, I do know what to look for.” He should have, as Connor had delved so deeply into the psychological aspects of himself & others just to figure out exactly what he was. Unmask himself by turning that powerful perception inwards. He had profiled much more difficult individuals, & the priest was no exception.
“As I said, I detect no deception in your statements. I may not share your beliefs, but I know that you sincerely believe these things exist.” He left it there, giving the older man an out should he desire it. “Besides that, I wouldn't regret participating in mutual flirtations with such a distinguished gentleman.” A shy smile tugged at his lips, working its way over his pretty features. He would have been happy to continue to flirt, having rather enjoyed their earlier banter. But something had been bothering him as their conversation continued, prodding at the edges of his subconscious. If James believed that Moore was possessed, then there had to be some bigger picture he was missing. “You're from the Vatican, aren't you?” A bold assumption, but it made sense. After all, from what Connor had stumbled across in his vague meanderings into the subject of religion, he knew the Vatican held certain authorities over declarations of such substantial claims, & how to combat the alleged threat. From there, he composed his conjecture. “May I ask why you’re here, James? Detroit isn’t exactly a common destination for a pilgrimage.”
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murphyslawyer · 1 year ago
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Sometimes I wish I could read minds not because I want to know about people’s most intimate thoughts but because I legit don’t know how to act around them.
Like. How many opportunities have I lost because I can’t read social cues? 💀
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deathbyday · 17 days ago
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𖥔not so gen. mouthwashing relations headcanons.𖥔˚
Written By: DeathByDay
TW - death, SA.
Includes: Captain Curly, Daisuke, and Anya
__________
Captain Curly
• This man is 100% a sucker for romance
• I’ve seen some people say that they think that he’s one to be into PDA, but honestly I just don’t see it
• Maybe a few pecks on the cheek or light hand holding, but nothing more
• He just doesn’t seem that type of guy to me
• But in private? That’s a whole different story
• He’s all on you whenever you want him to be or not, especially in the mornings
• I feel like he’d love to hug you from behind while you sleep, his nose pressed against the back of your neck while his arms are wrapped around right underneath your chest
• Would 100% wake up first like c’mon he’s literally a captain, he needs to (much to your dismay)
• But while you’re still asleep he’d plant small kisses on the back of your neck to try to wake you
• If that doesn’t work, then he’d leave the room before coming back soon enough with a cup of your favorite morning drink. Coffee, tea, milk, water, you name it
• If you came to him during a bad day, rest assured he’s gonna take care of you
• He’s running a bath with the exact temperature you wanted, laying out pajamas for you, along with towels. Probably would put bath salt in there too (if you aren’t allergic and like the feeling of it)
• Acts of service and words of affirmation are his love languages, prove me wrong. YOU CANT
• You don’t understand how bad he would feel after the crash
• Like he can’t be there for you and you need to be the one taking care of him. He just feels pathetic
• You sometimes make Jimmy let you give him the painkillers. You wouldn’t be as harsh as him, of course. Just gently slide it on his tongue and help him swallow, not shoving or pushing it down
• Anyways back to pre-crash Curly
• I think he would adore it if you ever planted kisses on his cheek, neck, or forehead (or honestly anywhere else)
• If you’re shorter than him, you’d have to grab his jawline and bring him down to your level to properly kiss. Trust me when I say he would never recover from it
• Loves kissing your neck, especially before you two begin the day together
NSFW
• Y’all cannot tell me this guy isn’t the most gentlest man in bed
• Always asking if you’re comfortable, moving at a reasonable pace until you’re ready, praising you for taking him so well, etc
• He 100% presses down on your stomach to feel how deep he is inside of you
• Gives you neck kisses while he praises you
• #need that
• I think he’d end up being more serious than silly
• Although he would occasionally chuckle at your whimpers and moans, I don’t feel like he’d actually crack a few jokes
Daisuke
• Ten thousand percent blushes at the slightest contact. Even from your hand accidentally rubbing against his he becomes a flustered mess
• Adores PDA, he doesn’t care
• But of course if you don’t, that’s fine
• Just hold his pinky finger and give him a kiss on the cheek from time to time and he’s good to go
• 100% does puppy eyes whenever he wants a kiss
• You guys could just be laying on the lounge area’s couch and he would give you those eyes. Obviously you gave him what he wanted because who wouldn’t
• When you cuddle, I don’t really see him having a favorite position. He could be the big spoon or the little spoon, he’s happy with both
• When he’s the little spoon, he’d have his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His head would be smushed into your chest, snuggling close
• When he’s the big spoon, he’d almost always have an arm wrapped around your shoulders while being in a starfish position
• Not to mention the snoring. He snores so loud you can’t prove me otherwise. He would sleep with his mouth open, which makes it even worse
• At first, it was tricky getting used to his snoring. But after a month or two of sleeping together, you couldn’t sleep without it
• Definitely not the one to wake up first. Most of the time, you have to drag him out of the bed to get him up and get ready for the day, leading to him whining and groaning
• Physical touch has this man in a chokehold
• Whenever the two of you actually have to work, he’d be so sad to leave you alone
• But after you two finally met up after, he would blabber about what he did, who he talked to, etc. and you would listen to every detail
• 100% the one to say “gyatt” whenever you pass by him. Even if you have a flat ass he still says it
• If you ended up dying before him, this guy would actually become depressed
• We all know he started getting drunk due to the mouthwash, but that is nowhere near how much he drank when you passed away
• If he ended up dying before you, he would promise you a thousand times while he’s bleeding out that he’d wait for you
• But back to fluff
• Whenever you have a bad day, this guy is definitely not leaving you alone
• He’d cuddle you until you literally explode
• If you were to ever kiss him anywhere on his face, he’d be a blushing mess no matter how light it is
• He genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing and just wings it with you, knowing you’d love him no matter what
NSFW
• He’s definitely a whiner
• You’d have to shut him up by either making out or keeping a hand on his mouth to muffle him
• Soft sex soft sex soft sex
• There’s no way he can take it seriously when you two are in bed. Of course he would try if you were into that, but he’d end up giggling at the end of each sentence
• 100% has a praise kink
• Please tell this man how good he’s doing at keeping you satisfied. He’d be way too embarrassed to do anything more with you if you don’t
Anya
• My poor baby
• She isn’t the best at expressing her love for you, but it’s obvious she loves you so much
• Not very big on PDA, but you do sometimes get a hug or a light peck on the cheek whenever you walk into a room she’s already in
• Will rant to you about how dumb it is that Daisuke won the game in Sorry!. She could honestly go on for hours on end
• You have to calm her down and tell her that it’ll be okay. Never tell her “it’s just a game” because then she’ll get even more upset
• When she found out she was pregnant, she felt terrible. Not just for herself but for you
• What would you think? Assume she’s cheating on you with her assaulter?
• You two were in bed when she finally broke the news to you about Jimmy and the baby. And oh my god you actually almost fought that man
• She had to hold you back from getting up from your spot. After that night, you shot daggers at that man every time you passed him. You didn’t speak to him once, no matter the situation
• You held her in your arms that night, whispering praises into her ear before she finally fell asleep
• Speaking of sleep, she adores being the little spoon while cuddling with you
• Her face smushed into your chest? Your arms wrapped around her, fingers twisting around her hair? It sounded like heaven
• I feel like Anya would be the one to wake up first
• She won’t leave you alone until you did, so it doesn’t take long for you both to be up and ready
• She would mutter petnames against your neck, pleading with you to wake up from your slumber
• 100% makes your favorite drink in the morning and makes it perfect every. single. time
• If you can’t cook, she’ll teach you
• She’s a wonderful teacher and chef. She explains everything to you correctly and soon you actually catch on
• You bake cookies by yourself (under her supervision) and if you burn them, she still praises you like you did everything right
• Whenever you get hurt, even if it’s just a scratch that’s barely bleeding, she cares for you as if you’ve broken a bone
• Both of you are each other’s protectors. She watches out for you, and you watch out for her
NSFW
• She wouldn’t be very talkative, but she would occasionally speak if you ever asked
• Ex: “Use your words, baby.” “Y/N-.. Please..”
• I feel like she’d shed a few tears whenever she becomes overstimulated, or if it’s your first time together
• Let her go as slow as she wants. She’ll eventually become comfortable enough with you, but it’ll take a few attempts
• I’m literally begging you, don’t slam your fingers, dildo/strap, or dick into her. She won’t talk to you for ages
• Don’t do anything harsh while having intercourse. I feel like she’d rather you be soft with her
• She’d be a mix of silly and serious. Drop a few occasional jokes to get her to laugh. But only do that when you two are actually moving at a good pace
• At first, I think she would be serious. If not nervous. But when you guys are finally adjusting to each other, it’s always nice to see her giggle
__________
authors note
I sincerely apologize if anyone was hoping for swansea.. I just couldn’t think of anything for him. Still wanna kiss that grumpy old man though!!
but nonetheless, I hope you all liked this<3
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