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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 days ago

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Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.”

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.”

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice, he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments.

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else.

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve.

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him.

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?”

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using.

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Well obviously something’s wrong.”

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?”

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?”

“I’m not upset!”

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-”

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him.

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon.

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be.

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?”

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins.

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke.”

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time.

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you.

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-”

“I didn’t get in.”

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke.

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock.

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?”

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!”

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has.

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand.

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation.

You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say.

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?”

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds.

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?”

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.”

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive.

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest.

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to.

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear.

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you.

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you.

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed.

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?”

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving.

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.”

“Where?”

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace.

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.”

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for.

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified.

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.”

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home.

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers.

“You promise you’ll come home, right?”

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too.

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness.

“Anything.”

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you��re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.”

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did.

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.”

Frankie, Present

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point.

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings.

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you.

Well, he can’t think about you as much.

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him.

He let you take the first shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run.

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you.

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.”

“You barely run the mile in gym class.”

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.”

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you.

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to.

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans.

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day.

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement.

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.”

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings.

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.”

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.”

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.”

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).”

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past.

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible.

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him.

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer.

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school.

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too.

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school.

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble.

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed.

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to.

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him.

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage.

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment.

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him.

August 18th, 2006

Frankie,

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage.

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL.

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person!

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha).

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo.

From,

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line.

October 13th, 2009

Frankie,

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe.

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet.

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do.

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie.

Kenzie

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong.

February 4th, 2011

Hey,

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways.

I guess I’ll see you when I see you.

MacKenzie

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business.

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull.

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done?

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

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@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

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@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

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@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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pixeltwix · 19 hours ago

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👁‍🗨Ciphertology & The Dixons👁‍🗨

Sooooo…Emma May’s family was involved in a cult, right? Let me elaborate. As a fellow creative I have been known on many occasions to forget details big and small about my own world, but names? No, names are never something I tend to duplicate unless for a very specific thematic or world building reason. So color me stoked when I was curiously learning about Bill’s cult arc in the 1950’s and found one of his first followers was a young girl with the surname, you guessed it, Dixon!!

Considering Alex Hirsch is very purposeful with things and little hints, while also leaving the audience to figure things out for themselves while he sits back and laughs, I can’t help but feel the surname Dixon is a bit TOO coincidental in this instance. From what we see, Ciphertology and the followers were a mash of a bunch of real life cult references while doing the usual Hirsch thing of filtering Bill into a concept perfectly well.

All in all it’s a very interesting thing, but what I found more interesting were the people involved. Sure you have the puppet leader, Silas Birchtree and a bunch of other out there names, but amongst sits a simple ‘Madeline Dixon’….. Alex Hirsch I’m going to screAM :D

From what we learn, after the cult is forcibly disbanded by the US government and every trace of the town is wiped off of maps and history books, the people are spread throughout the country and given opportunities to start life over again. Not everyone followed that however and some continued to follow the Bill Cipher cult. And honestly I can’t help finding myself bouncing back to the very concept that is-

What if Emma May Dixon grew up in a recovering cult family? What if her family still believed in the cults teachings like some and practiced it in secret at home? And if that is true how am I meant to feel towards the idea that her future husband, Fiddleford McGucket, would become a cult leader himself all because of the very thing that was the foundation of her own cultish upbringing?

Honestly if that’s what Alex was shooting for, I’m calling him a genius cause that’s such a fascinating idea to work with. The concept that Bill has personally affected and rooted himself so deeply into the show and it’s characters that even those we don’t get to see still have dealt with him to some degree.

It just all feels too perfect too. The surname Dixon implies enough, thanks to Alex’s upfront and to the point naming, that Emma May too is a southerner like her husband. Or at the very least she’s in that farmy side of the country. And where did Ciphertology come from? Orchard Lake, Kansas. Madeline Dixon very well could be Emma May’s aunt or older sister considering the cult began in 1952. And assuming Em’s the same age as Fiddleford and the Stan twins then we can assume vaaaaageuly that she’d be born in 1955. Meaning she’d be either growing up in that recovering environment or indoctrinated into it.

We can assume well enough then that she didn’t follow the cults teachings considering she seems well adjusted with her family, living in Palo Alto, but it also kinda reaffirms why she’d be so quick to throw divorce on the table once she sees Fiddleford’s memory wiped condition. That on top of we can only assume his behavior was alarming and erratic and a far cry from the personality of her husband that she was used to (especially when you consider bRO made a homicidal pterodactyl robot because he was so distraught and upset towards the idea of being divorced..like yeah man..that might solidify her decision my guy..)

But if she ever saw the symbol of Bill’s eye or anything in relation to him anywhere in Gravity Falls?? Especially the Society of the Blind eye symbol spray painted all over? After either learning to fear Bill or worship him in her upbringing depending on what their family did after the cult was disbanded? I wouldn’t blame her for high tailing it out of there and worrying for her and her sons life- (Fiddleford..Emma May..I am your biggest fans, but y’all have me bonkers sometimes) But also consider how most ex cult members naturally want to give the very opposite traumatic life that they lived to their child? If Emma May were to see semblances of what she relates to Ciphertology in Gravity Falls, I don’t have a hard time believing she was getting tF out of there for the sake of Tate’s well being & future

In short- hi, I now believe Emma May’s family was in a cult and the very idea of that will ruminate with me for awhile :D But also double hi?? Madeline DIxon looks vaguely similar to how I envisioned and draw my Emma May design? Coincidence, I think nOT :P

#gravity falls #the book of bill #book of bill #gravity falls fandom #emma may dixon #fiddleford mcgucket #ford pines #standford pines #mystery trio #gravity falls theory #gravity falls thoughts #ciphertology #bill cipher

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usomads · 2 days ago

Text

Celoso // Damian Priest x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hellooo everyone, I had planned to put this out earlier in the day but something happened and it threw me pretty bad, but I still wanted to deliver. As always, happy readinggg!

Plot -> He doesn't want to see you with anyone else but him...

Pairings -> Damian Priest x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Friends to Lovers, Cursing, Jealous!Damian (Dom Mention lol), Choking, Spanking, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F! Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.0k

“Hey, Y/N, I gotta talk with production real quick… you alright to wait here for a second?” Damian had brought you backstage for an episode of Raw in Brooklyn, which mostly meant you were following him around all night, but it was so cool to be in his world for the night and see your childhood best friend live his dream, becoming one of the biggest stars on the brand in the process.

“Of course, Dames, I’ll be here!” He flashed you a smile and walked off with someone, leaving you to fend for yourself for the time being. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through socials, making sure to respond to some messages from family and friends. X always provided you with some entertainment, especially on the wrestling side of the app, so you scrolled through some of the Damian fan accounts, liking some tweets here and there.

“Y/N! Is that you?” You snap your head up to find Dominik Mysterio, who was making his way over to you. Now, you weren’t gonna lie, after you met him last year when Damian was still in The Judgement Day you had developed a little bit of a crush on him. He was for sure attractive, but he was so laid back as well and you loved that. You didn’t dare tell Damian though, he’s been weird with crushes you had since you were kids, and after all you just thought Dom was cute- it’s not like it’d ever go anywhere.

“Dom, hey! How have you been,” you extended your arms out and wrapped them around his waist for a hug, staying there for a few moments before backing away.

“I’m good, I’m good! I didn’t know you were in town tonight, it’s great to see you!”

“Dom… I live here, of course I’m in town,” you chuckled as he blushed, forgetting you were a Brooklyn native.

“Oh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “well hey! I’m staying here an extra day, I’ve got some press stuff to do but afterwards I was thinking we could go get some drinks? It’d be nice to spend some time with you, catch up for a bit…” he trailed off, giving you his trademark smirk letting you know he’s (most likely) up to no good. It was your turn to blush now, looking up at him as he scanned you from head to toe.

“Um… yeah, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just give you my number so you can text me when you’re done with your interviews and such. There’s this place I know near my apartment, they’ve got really good drinks and some decent food in case we get hungry. I’ll send it to you,” you smiled, taking his phone from his hand and inputting your number before handing it back to him, your hands brushing as you exchanged the phone. That simple touch sent a shock through your body as you looked up at him, sensing he felt the same thing.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he walked backwards, still looking at you and whispered, “te ves bien esta noche, ángel1.” You blushed again at his words while he winked at you and walked off. You leaned back against the wall, sighing contently at the exchange, and noticed Damian standing to the side looking… upset? Sensing his foul mood, you made your way over to him.

“Hey, there you are! Everything okay? Did the meeting go well?” He nodded, still staring off into the distance as you waved your hand in his face. “Earth to Damian, you sure you’re good?”

“Yeah. m’fine, What’d he want?” He signaled to Dom, who was walking down the hallway.

“Oh, nothing super important, he just asked if I was free tomorrow to get drinks so I gave him my number so we could meet up. Haven’t seen him in like a year, so it’ll be fun to catch up,” The smile on your face dwindled as you noticed Damian seemed to be getting more and more irritated the more you brought Dom up.

“Sucio…”

“Huh?” You thought you heard him mutter something under his breath.

“Nothing, let’s get outta here. You ready?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you both out of the arena and to his car to head to your place, watching him closely as he drove. The arena wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you and Damian were able to get there and get settled in pretty quickly. The two of you were seated on your couch, beers in hand as you two talked about the night.

“Amor, don’t get me wrong, Dom’s my brother… but he’s a player. Seriously, that whole ‘Dirty Dom’ thing you see is real. I just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cuz then I’d have to kick his ass forreal.”

“Dames, c’mon, it’s not even like that. We’re just catching up, that’s it.”

“You sure about that? Y/N, please don’t be stupid, he was basically fucking you with his eyes…” you smacked his arm gently, cutting him off.

“Hey! Chill, he wasn't, he's just… friendlier than most, I guess. And besides, is it really a bad thing if it is a date?” Damian’s entire demeanor shifted. “I mean, I haven’t gone out with a guy in over a year… maybe it’s time to do something about that? I’ve been pretty lonely, Damian, I don’t exactly have you around all the time…”

“What, and you think Dom can help you with that?”

“Well, I-” he cuts you off, his deep voice getting more and more intense with every second.

“You think Dom can keep you company better than I could? Treat you better than I could? Love you better than I could?” You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he’s making this all such a big deal.

“Jesus, Dame, you act like you’d be losing me if I were with Dom. Newsflash, you wouldn’t, so why the fuck are you freaking out on me right now?” Damian sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Y/N, you just don’t get it…”

“Well then make me understand, Damian. You’re sitting here mad at me because Dom asked me to go get drinks and I just don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me, I’m finally putting myself out there again and as my best frie-”

“It’s just that, Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay? He estado enamorado de ti desde que éramos niños.2 All these years, I’ve waited and waited but I’m tired of waiting, Y/N, I want you. More than anything in this world,” he paused to watch your reaction, as you sat shocked. All this time, he’s been in love with me?

“The thought of you going out with Dom, being with him, letting him touch you? It makes me sick, mi amor, because it should be me. It should be me touching you…” he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, “loving you…” his fingers dance along your jaw and cup your cheek, “tell me you feel it too, please, I know you do.”

“D-Dames, I-,” you stutter out, still trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. Damian sighs, removing his hand from your face and distancing himself, placing his hands on his knees before standing himself up.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I understand…” he trailed off. “I think it might be best if I head home, give us both some time to think about things. I’ll see you later.” Damian heads towards the door, head down as he drags himself to leave. You realize you’re about to let the best thing to ever happen to you walk out, so you stand up and run over to him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to turn him around. Your hands grab his face and pull him down to meet your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. You pull away from him, hands still on his face and looking into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you did too.” You confessed, blushing as you did so, “but I promised Dom I’d go out for drinks with him. I can’t just cancel on him, we’re fr-”

“Still thinking about Dom��” Damian closes the distance between you too, bodies dangerously close, “Baby, you won’t be able to remember his name after I’m done with you… only name that’s gonna be coming from those pretty little lips of yours,” his lips hovered over your own as he growled, “is mine.” He crashes his lips into yours, snaking his hands up your torso and removing your shirt before removing his own. The kiss was intoxicating, your mind feeling fuzzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and walking the two of you backwards. Your back hits the wall with a soft thud, making you gasp which allows Damian’s tongue to slip inside and assert its power over you. His fingers trailed along your sides and wove themselves into the waistline of your pants, tugging on the clothing to undo the button. You reached your hands down between you, allowing him to step back as you removed your bottoms and tossed them to the side.

“Fuck, Y/N, tu cuerpo es una obra de arte. C’mere.” Damian pulls you to him and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom. You giggled, playfully kicking your feet and trying to ‘get away’ but Damian’s grip on you remained firm as he placed a smack to your ass making you bury your head in his shoulder as he rubbed the smooth skin and walked you to the foot of your bed. He laid you down before taking his jeans off and climbing on the bed with you, pulling you on top of him and pulling you back in for another kiss. You were straddling him, your hips grinding against him. He hissed against your lips, feeling your wet pussy soak through your panties and onto his growing bulge. The movement of your hips was driving him wild, but more wild were his imaginations of you sinking down on his cock and moving your hips like that while he was buried inside you. He would hold onto that thought, flipping you two over and targeting the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit and sucked the flesh hard, drawing bruises to the surface without a doubt. The intensity in which he worked on you had you spiraling- your mind was hazy and the soft moans being elicited from your mouth were beginning to grow louder. He continued his descent downwards, being sure to kiss, bruise, and nip at your breasts and sternum as he traveled downward. His face was finally level with where you craved him most, and luckily for you he was in no mood for games. He took the delicate material of your panties in his hands and ripped them, the cloth now coming off with ease as your pussy clenched at the sight. He chuckled, admiring your pussy and watching it pulse in ways he knew only he could make it do.

“Oh, baby, she’s so ready for me already,” he brings his right hand to your folds and collects your juices on his fingers, placing them in his mouth and moaning at your taste. “So fuckin’ sweet for me too. Pretty pussy knows who her Papi is, doesn’t she?” You moan at his words, whining as he teases you with his fingers. “Whose pussy is this, nena?”

“Y-yours, it’s yours…” you moaned but Damian, not satisfied, delivers a gentle smack to the front of your pussy, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, rubbing you to ease the sting from his hand. “You must’ve misunderstood.. I said… whose pussy is this, baby?” He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles, your back arching at his motions. “Mmm, fuck, it-it’s yours, Papi. All yours. Please…” you whimper. “So much better, baby,” he groans and lowers his head, allowing your thighs to wrap around it as his tongue and fingers conduct you to your orgasm like a symphony. The torturous pace of his tongue compared to the pace of his fingers was sending you completely over the edge, your body shaking as he coaxed you to cumming on his fingers. He cleaned you with his mouth, savoring your taste on his tongue as he brought himself back to your level. You kissed him passionately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning into his mouth. You flipped the two of you over to straddle him again as you kissed down his chest, desperately wanting to return the favor. You bring yourself level to the bulge aching in his boxers that desperately wants release and lace your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down. His cock springs free and rests against his lower stomach, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with. You gasp at the sight. “Y-you’re s-so big..” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his length. He chuckled, cupping your face and bringing you to look up at him.

“You like what you see? Hmm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and taking him in your hand. You pump him slowly, spitting on his dick and teasing the tip with light sucks. He grips your hair and pulls down while you look up at him, lifting your chin and letting your mouth fall open. “Papi don’t like you teasin’ me like this, pretty girl,” he groaned at the sight of you before him, so desperate for him. “M’gonna have to fuck that outta you, you understand?”

“Y-yes, Papi,” you whispered. He winks at you as he slides his cock into your open mouth, your lips tightening around him as he thrusts himself into your throat. He sits up, getting leverage before tightening the grip on your hair and fucking your throat with no mercy. He moans your name loudly, eyes glazed over watching as a trail of saliva dribbles down your chin as your eyes water from his work on your throat. He slows down, pulling out of your mouth as his hand grips his length.

“Mmm, come sit on this dick, princesa.” You crawl up to him and swing your leg over to straddle him, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing his tip along your entrance. Damian’s hands settle at your waist as you rub yourself on him, before sinking down on his cock. You both throw your heads back in pleasure and moan as he slowly bottoms out inside you. You grind your hips on him, your clit brushing on his pelvic bone, and you whimper his name. Your slow grinds pick up as you lose yourself in the feeling of Damian filling you that you grab hold of the headboard and fuck yourself on his dick. Sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs fill the room as you chase your orgasm, as Damian pulls you down to him and wraps his arms around you while thrusting into you from below you. Your moans turn to screams as you bite down on his shoulder, trying hard not to completely fall apart on him.

“F-fuckkk, Dames. M’so close.. I’m gonna-” Before you finish your thought he throws you off of him, pulling you to your hands and knees before roughly slamming into you from behind. He delivers harsh slaps to your ass as he fucks you mercilessly.

“You think Dom can make you feel this good?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as you moan for him, arching your back and allowing him to go deeper. “You think he can touch you like I can? Dime, cariño, could Dom fuck you this good?” He grabs you by the neck now, lightly squeezing as he pulls you flush against his chest and continues to pound into you from behind. “Answer Papi like a good girl,” he growled in your ear.

“Oh fuckkk, no no no. Only you, Papi. I’m all yours, Dames. Only you can make me- oh my god, I’m so close… please, Papi, please let me cum…” you begged for him, pleading for your release as Damian continued to drill into you.

“Shiiiiit, fuck Y/N- go ahead, baby. Cum all over Papi’s dick.” And with his words your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you shake in his arms as you release all over his cock, moaning Damian’s name over and over as you come down. Damian follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your pussy and moaning your name into your neck, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. He pulls out of you, collapsing next to you and opening his arms for you to rest your head on his chest.

Damian was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked his eyes open, seeing you were in a deep and peaceful sleep. You were not waking up. He realizes it’s your phone so he picks it up to turn it off, but sees the caller ID and stops. Dom.

He slides his thumb across to answer the call. “Hey, Y/N! I wanted to let you know I’m done wi-”

“Oye, Y/N’s not going out tonight, está ocupada conmigo… oh, and Dom,” he paused, glancing over at you and watching you sleep soundly beside him, “borra su número antes de que tengamos un problema.” Damian hangs up before Dom can speak, setting your phone to the side and cuddling into you once more before falling back asleep himself.

#damian priest #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #damian priest x reader #smut #damian priest smut

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littlelamy · 5 hours ago

Note

Request hehe: Maybe Reader has some trust issues due to past cheating etc. So she is constantly doubting If Rafe is doing something behind her back and it’s damaging their relationship/Rafe is feeling very offended that she could ever think that and leaves very upset. So some self-sabotage on her part.

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! 💗 pngs from @saizun

the tension in the room was as palpable as the crisp autumn air seeping through the edges of rafe's window. you stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed, while rafe paced near the door, his brows furrowed and lips drawn tight. it wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself in this situation—accusations hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“i just don’t get why you think i’m lying to you,” rafe finally said, running a hand through his messy blond hair. his voice was raw, teetering between frustration and sadness. “what did i do this time?”

the pang of guilt that shot through you was immediate, but it was quickly overshadowed by the relentless doubt that had been gnawing at you for weeks.

“i don’t know, rafe,” you muttered, staring down at your hands. “you’re just… too good to be true sometimes. i mean, look at you.” you gestured vaguely at his tall, athletic frame, the way he looked even in a simple t-shirt and jeans. “how do i know you’re not out there talking to someone else? everyone likes you.”

he stopped pacing, standing still for a moment as your words sank in.

“you think just because people like me, i’d cheat on you?” his voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made you wince.

“it’s not like that—”

“then what is it like, y/n?” he interrupted, his tone sharp now. he stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “because this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. you keep accusing me of something i’m not doing, and it’s…” he exhaled shakily, taking a step back. “it’s killing me, honestly.”

the tears you’d been holding back began to sting your eyes. you hated how this always ended—with you feeling like the villain and rafe looking at you like you’d just run over his dog.

“it’s not about you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “it’s about me. i’ve been through this before, rafe. i’ve trusted someone before, and they… they betrayed me.”

“and i’m paying for what someone else did?” his voice cracked, and he shook his head in disbelief. “do you even hear yourself?”

you stayed silent, your chest tightening with every second that passed.

rafe let out a bitter laugh, running his hands over his face. “do you really think i’m that kind of person? that after everything we’ve been through, i’d just—what? throw it all away for someone else?”

“i don’t know!” you blurted out, tears finally spilling over. “i don’t know what to believe anymore. i want to trust you, rafe, but it’s so hard. every time you’re late, every time you get a text and don’t tell me who it’s from, my mind goes to the worst place.”

“that’s not fair,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “you don’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. you don’t even try to trust me.”

you wiped at your tears angrily, hating how vulnerable you felt. “maybe i don’t know how,” you admitted, your voice breaking.

rafe stared at you for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he fought to keep his composure.

“i can’t do this,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

your heart sank. “what do you mean?”

“i can’t keep proving myself to you when i’ve done nothing wrong,” he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it hurts, but this?” he gestured between the two of you. “this is tearing me apart.”

you took a step toward him, panic rising in your chest. “rafe, please. i’m sorry. i’ll work on it, i promise. just don’t… don’t leave.”

but he shook his head, his expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. “i need some time to think,” he said, his voice trembling. “i can’t keep feeling like i’m not enough for you when i’ve given you everything i have.”

he turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house, and you collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into your hands.

you had pushed him away. the one person who had always been there for you, who had loved you despite your flaws, was gone—and it was your fault.

the days that followed were a blur. you went through the motions of life, but everything felt hollow without rafe. he didn’t call, didn’t text, and the silence was deafening. you wanted to reach out, to beg for his forgiveness, but every time you picked up your phone, the shame stopped you.

instead, you spent your time reflecting on the mess you’d made. you thought about the way you’d let your past dictate your present, how you’d let your insecurities poison something good.

you thought about rafe’s face the last time you saw him—the hurt in his eyes, the way his voice broke when he said he loved you.

you loved him too. you always had. but you’d let your fear overshadow that love, and now you were paying the price.

a week later, you found yourself standing outside rafe’s house, your heart pounding in your chest. you’d rehearsed what you wanted to say a million times, but now that you were here, your mind was blank.

taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

it opened a moment later, and there he was—rafe, looking as handsome as ever despite the tiredness in his eyes.

“y/n,” he said, his voice soft but guarded.

“hi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “can i come in?”

he hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let you in. you walked into the living room, the familiar space feeling foreign without the warmth you were used to.

“i’m sorry for just showing up,” you said, turning to face him. “i just… i needed to see you.”

he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “what do you want, y/n?”

“i want to fix this,” you said, your voice trembling. “i want to fix us.”

rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “you can’t just say that and expect everything to go back to normal.”

“i know,” you said quickly. “i know i’ve hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i’ve spent the last week thinking about everything, and i realized… i’ve been so unfair to you, rafe. i let my past ruin what we had, and i’m so sorry.”

he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “do you even trust me?”

“yes,” you said without hesitation. “or… i want to. i know i’ve given you every reason to think i don’t, but i do, rafe. i trust you more than anyone. i’m just scared. scared of losing you, scared of getting hurt again.”

“you’re not the only one who’s scared,” he said, his voice softening. “do you know how it feels to love someone who’s always waiting for you to screw up? to feel like no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough?”

tears welled up in your eyes, and you stepped closer to him. “i’m so sorry, rafe,” you whispered. “i never meant to make you feel that way. you are enough—more than enough. and i don’t want to lose you because i couldn’t get out of my own head.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know, y/n. i don’t know if i can keep doing this.”

“please,” you said, your voice breaking. “i’ll do better. i’ll prove to you that i can be better, that i can trust you the way you deserve to be trusted.”

he studied your face, his blue eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

“i love you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “but this has to change. i can’t keep living like this.”

“it will,” you promised, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “i’ll change. i’ll prove to you that i can be better.”

he sighed but didn’t pull away from you. “this is your last chance, y/n,” he said quietly. “i mean it.”

“i won’t waste it,” you promised, looking up at him.

for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you, the tension thick and heavy. then, slowly, rafe’s hands moved to cup your face.

“don’t make me regret this,” he murmured, his voice soft and raw.

“i won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned down.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, a silent promise of forgiveness and hope. you clung to him, pouring every ounce of your love and regret into the kiss, vowing to yourself that this time, you would get it right.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed.

“i love you, baby,” he said again, his voice steady this time.

“i love you too,” you whispered, your heart swelling with both relief and determination.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

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shorthaltsjester · 24 hours ago

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re: many thoughts i’ve seen regarding the way the cast are playing m9 feeling ooc that have ranged anywhere from being just commentary to very strange critiques about like. homophobia and. emphatically just. idk man . get a grip or smth. vox machina is pretty much just as ‘caricature’-y as the nein are (a phrase which here simply refers to. we are getting snapshots of these characters provided by a cast keenly aware of the limited timeline they’re on), the only difference being we saw vox machina with down time and we didn’t see the same with mighty nein (on their own) all of the mighty nein’s one-on-one moments were mediated by the cast also having to go ‘would my other character — who is in the main party for this campaign — have something to say in this moment of the story that takes precedent over whatever conversation this character would have’. and further, whimsy and verging on over-confidence have Always been the nein’s approach. but like, especially re: yasha and fjord (and beau a bit) who i’ve seen get the most reaction it’s like. literally rewatch the campaign and detach yourself from the fanon-rotted version of the characters that has been left to evolve in your brain.

like. sorry beau Did dislike yasha at the start — she thought she was hot, but she was also deeply walled off and unwilling to fully take yasha as a genuine person for a while. beauyasha has always been horny. like we’re talking the ceiling mirror fucking, fish market, hot tub stare off couple right? that’s who we’re upset about being too sexual? where am i (and if it’s because ashley and marisha forgot whether their characters were married, all the best to you, your thoughts are simply irrelevant). and fjord is the exact same as always — which is a combination of confidence and awkward at all times, especially when it comes to romance. which has in the past consistently led to jester and him having quieter conversations where he gets to be more vulnerable, including one we had the last time we saw mn in ep 111 where jester point blank brought up that he seemed like maybe he regretted proposing and he shed the bravado demeanour (as he always has) and explained that he doesn’t regret anything.

like. i’m not saying it’s wrong to take issue with the characters choices or perspectives, go for it, but realize that it is the characters and the choices they’re making and not just the cast Forgetting who their characters are. also i am truly sorry for those of you who can’t tell the difference between an out of character but still in character voice joke and an in character delivery . i imagine that makes it very hard to track character development but unfortunately that does not mean the cast have forgotten the hearts of their characters it just means you probably shouldn’t be (and thankfully you are not) the chief determination of whether they have or not.

#cr fandom #cr spoilers #critical role #i’m literally vibing having a great time #and then i’m forced to see people claim lesbophobia or fjord wanting out of his relationship #and i’m reminded why i did not engage with the cr fandom while mn ran #cr3

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otaku0411 · 1 day ago

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A Future Rewritten

Summary: After years of dreaming of parenthood, Y/n and Nanami face the devastating loss of their first pregnancy. The grief threatens to consume their relationship as Y/n struggles with feelings of guilt and inadequacy while Nanami fights to hold their bond together.

TW: Miscarriages, infertility, mention of alcoholism, and depression episodes

A/n: This is my first angst-like fanfic so please don’t be too harsh and my first JJk fanfic🥲

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Both of y’all went to the doctor to see if there wer anything wrong that could affect yall fertility. The results came out great for Nanami. However for you, it said that you might be struggling with fertility issues. Doctor explained that it’s not impossible, but it will take a while longer for you to conceive. Feeling upset at the news, you try different herbs and positions that could increase your chance but nothing seems to work.

It became more difficult when friends and family would have get together and their children would be around playing in blissful innocence that they still have. There was one time where Gojo brought his son, and for some odd reason he was following Nanami around all day and your husband eventually gave in a play with him and even carried him on his back. That moment has you feeling so much pride but sadness because you couldn’t give him a baby. (It’s all your fault)

One morning, you woke up and immediately went to the bathroom and puke your gut out. This was abnormal, especially since you didn’t eat much of anything for dinner. Nanami knock on the door.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” He asked with concern in voice.

You flush the toilet and wash your hand and brush your teeth. “Everything good! Just needed to go to bathroom.” You chuckles, trying to play it off.

He doesn’t buy it one bit, he knows when you’re lying. He sighed” Okay but if you’re not feeling well, please tell me.”

“I will!” Nanami back up from the door and walked away.

You hate lying to him but you don’t want him to worry right now. You soon get ready for work and leave the house. Throughout the day, all you could think about is the vomit, but then you get a notification on your phone that says your cycles is 5 days late. Okay this is a sign!

After work, you when to the drugstore and went home. Luckily Nanami was still at work so you took the opportunity to take three pregnancy tests. You waited for 5 minutes. Those five minutes were the longest time you felt. Anticipated and nervous for the results. The timer went off and you decided to look.

Nanami comes home with takeout from your favorite restaurant. He shouted out your name to announce he’s home. You slowly come out of the hallway with both of your hands behind your back.

“Hey love I brought yo-…….what’s behind your back?”He quickly noticed how you were standing. He look around you to see if he get a peep but you dogged his attempts.

You had a big grin on your face as you were too excited. You show him the pregnancy test with two big bold lines. Nanami looks and his eyes begin to widen as the realization hits him.

“You’re…..pregnant?” A smile and excitement creep on his face.

You eagerly nodded your head and before you could say anything, Nanami pick you up and hug you tightly.

“We’re gonna be parents!!!!” He chanted loudly. You laugh at his excitement. This was the best news he could get all year! He slowly put you down to look at you.

“I’m so happy to be a father and to have you as the mother of my children.” He caressed you gently and put his hand on your stomach.

“I can’t wait to meet you little guy.”

The next few months was full of restfulness and excitement for the arrival of the baby. Nanami has ordered many pregnancy books and preparation for the baby as you’ve been dealing with the occasional nausea and fatigue and sickness that comes with the first trimester of pregnancy. You two were at every appointment making sure that the pregnancy was going well and that the baby was progressing successfully.

On the 12th week, Yall had went to the appointment for an ultrasound to see the baby. Y’all were very excited to see the little one and to see how they were growing in your belly and any updates that you two need to know. The nurse happily lead you guys to the room, place you down on the bed by the ultrasound screen and put the cold gel on your stomach as she put the wand onto the stomach and begin moving around to see the baby. You and your husband hold each other hand excited to see the baby not knowing what was to come. The nurse who once looked at the screen once with a smiley, happy face turn into a very neutral expression on expression.

The nurse looked at you two and told you “I’ll be right back.” She left and you two were wondering what was going on y’all waited a few minutes and then the doctor came in and told you the heartbreaking news.

“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami but it appears that we could not have found a heartbeat we checked again and there are no sign of life.”

You two look at each other in shock at the new, not wanting to believe what the doctor is saying.

“What are you trying to say?” You didn’t comprehend what she’s saying, or rather what you don’t want to comprehend.

The doctor sighed as she basically realized she has to say the difficult part, “I’m saying you have miscarriage at 12 weeks.”

Hearing those words come out the doctor’s mouth of the room to be muffled and silence as the two you just looked at each other, not knowing how to express or what to say. The doctor explained that it was nothing that you have done and miscarriages commonly happen in the first trimester. All you could think inside your head was ‘what did I do? What’s wrong with me? How could I let this happen? Could I prevented this?!’ You asking these questions over and over again in your mind.

Nanami see that you space out and called you, “Honey? You okay?”

You snapped out and continue listening to the doctor.

The doctor continues explaining that it is possible to try again later down the line.

Y’all came to the hospital with a baby and now leaving without it. They induced your labor to get the baby and the placenta out. It was painful and caused discomfort for you and Nanami.

After the surgery, you was prescribed with medication to make sure everything clears out of your uterus and to make sure there are no complications after the miscarriage. you inform your job about a medical emergency and you need to have a week off from work.

Nanami drove you both home, the car drive was filled with silent. You put your purse on the table and just sat down on the couch looking down at the floor. You try to hold your stomach with a small bump that was once forming is no longer there. Nanami sat right beside you holding your hand, trying to come for you the best way he can. He’s processing the pain too but knows that it’s harder for you since you were carrying the baby.

“Do you wanna talk about this?” He ask you, he cares about you. He wants the best for you to make sure that everything is okay, but instead of just talking about it and spread your feelings, you shut down how can you be a wife? You can’t even give your partner a child

“What do you want to dinner?” You blurred out , not wanting to talk about the event that just happened back at the hospital no, we look so confused. Why are you not talking to him? You literally just had a miscarriage?! Nanami can see the way the pain as you look at the ground and knew that you didn’t wanna talk about it right then and there, so he just went along with it to make peace at the moment.

“I’ll take care of dinner. You don’t have to worry about cooking dinner.” He answer you with his soft tone, you nodded your head. “Okay, I’ll be in the bathroom.” You get up the couch and wash and left and went to the bathroom.

Once you close the door, all the tears that accumulated all day when the moment you got the news just start pouring out. You just sobbing as tears cover your face and cheeks. You’re a mess. You don’t know how to process this. When you thought you finally got a break and finally gonna be a mother. It was taken away from me just like that.

What was wrong with me? What? Why can’t I carry a baby in my stomach??

The week that you was off from work, you just laid in bed in silence. You did not eat sleep or eat or drink anything. The only time you got up really was to use the restroom. Sure you wash your face from time to time but other than that you did not do nothing, you barely even shower. The only reason you somehow survived is what because your husband cooked dinner and semi forced you to come down to eat dinner with him.

he tried to talk to you about the miscarriage, he wanted you to talk about it. He did not blame you for what happened. he blaming you for losing the baby. He mad at you cannot how can you be a good wife if you cannot give him a child what’s wrong with you?

Why it is so hard for me, but not for other women that’s all you could think about in your mind. Every second will consume of the miscarriage in the could’ve been and would’ve been and everything around it. You hated yourself for it, you failed as a woman, partner, and mother.

One night in bed , you were up looking at the ceiling just thinking about everything that happened. Kento saw that you wasn’t sleeping ”are you OK? You can’t sleep?” You look over to your right at him. “No, I’m not really tired right now.” He sighed, he knew why you’re up. He knows that you are too hard on yourself right now. “You know I’m not mad at you right?” You look away from him. You want to believe him you really do but all you can think of your mind is the opposite.

he’s gonna leave you for someone who can give him a child.

That’s all you can think about all that you worry about you turned your back at him “I’m going to Sleep. You have a good night.”

Nanami was shocked by your behavior. you never turn your back on him. But he wasn’t gonna give up on you. He pulled you close, with your back towards his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He whispered in your ear “I love you.” before he try to go to asleep.

The week you return from work, you put a mask on for your coworkers and carry on with your work and project that you had missed out like nothing happened. despite the effort, you were still thinking about the pregnancy at home, but at work all you can think about what project deadline, reports, and meetings.

You bury yourself in work, helping every project in the company and contribute to many groups around the department that you were in. Your supervisor ask if you want to stay a little later to finish the report and you happily answered yes. anything to not be at home and think about the miscarriage anything to not go home and be a disappointment to your husband at least at work you are something here. A somebody with purpose. Somebody who accomplish a lot of things here.

The next few weeks, all you did was work and overtime, work and overtime, work and overtime.

You’d come home exhausted from work and became close friends with your wine cellar. Indulging on a few glasses of wines and cocktails every other day after working overtime. That feeling of intoxication and praise at work helped block out the depress thoughts, even if it was for a couple hours.

After finishing a huge project at work, your team decided to go out and celebrating with drinks. At the bar, you were laughing and talking with the few coworkers you enjoyed spending time with. Y’all were having a good time and even offer Sasha, one of your colleagues and good friends, a drink. Normally she’d accept it but she shook her head.

“Not tonight. I’m not allowed to drink for the next few months.” She explained as her hands is placed on her belly. The whole team look at Sasha surprised but soon follow up with excitement. Many congrats her and ask about the baby. As those conversations were happening, you couldn’t help but think about your own pregnancy and how far along the baby would’ve been by now. You’d been 7-8 months along.

You congrat Sasha, paid for your tabs and quickly called it a night. But that didn’t stop the drinking. You went to the liquor store and got some Taylor Port and Patron. You made it home around 9:35 pm and immediately pour yourself a glass and chugged it. You pour yourself another glass when a voice behind you spoke.

“You’re drinking again?” He look you at very distressed. He seen the way you been acting the last few months and it’s getting worse.

“Yeah so what?” You replied as your mouth touch the glass with the alcohol entering your throat.

Nanami was tired. You come home late, smelling like liquor and being borderline drunk every other day was getting old and fast. He walked up to you and grabbed your glass.

“What the fuck?! Give it back!”

“No, I’m tired of seeing you like this (Y/n). Coming home late and drinking is not healthy and it’s not you!”

“So what?! It’s not like I’m hurting anyone.” You protest.

“You’re hurting me! And more importantly you’re hurting yourself! You can’t continue on like this. This is not the woman I married.”

Taking his word the wrong way you blurred out “Well go find another bitch who’d give you everything you want!”

Nanami look at you stunned by your words. Before he could say anything, you continued with slurring your words.

“Maybe you should end things with me, find another woman who will give you ALL the kids and babies you want instead of being with one who couldn’t even carry one in their first trimester.” As you yelled out, tears begin to form in your (e/c) eyes. You already imagine in your mind that he’d leave you, find someone else, marry her and have a family. A family with beautiful children. A family that doesn’t include you.

Silent was the only thing that was heard in the kitchen. Nanami spoke out softly, “Sweetheart…….,” as he walked closer towards you.

You just lost it. All the months of holding it in secret and emotional turmoil just came out as tears fall against your face. Nanami quickly held you tightly as you begin to cry out in his arms.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!”

“Hey hey, it’s okay-“

You abruptly cut him off “No it’s not! For two fucking years we’ve been trying to get pregnant. Over and over again all because I have a hard time getting pregnant! And I one time I did I fucked up and lost our baby!”

He stood there holding you as you vented out everything you’ve been feeling. This was a long time coming.

“I’m sorry I failed you…..” Your voice cracked as you spoke. Nanami look at you disappointed. Not at you, but at himself and how he wishes he tried harder to get you to open up sooner.

“Y/n, you can’t blame yourself for this. I hate seeing you blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault whatsoever.” You continue to sob as Nanami gently grab your chin to make you look at him.

“Look at me, you are strong, intelligent, and beautiful person inside and out. Our next pregnancy will be stronger and better. And you’ll be one hell of a mother.”

“But…..what if I never get pregnant again Kento. It took me years for just one. I know how much you desire to be a father……and I’m scared that we’ll separate because of—“

“Don’t.” He paused you. You look up at him confused and still upset.

“I don’t care if it takes two years, twenty years, or even if it never happens, Y/n. You are who I envision as the mother of my children, but more than that—you are my everything. If we can’t have children, I’ll still feel complete, because I have you. I see you in every vision of my future, holding my hand, laughing with me, growing old with me. Children or no children, you are my home and my forever. I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. Not now, not ever.”

You soon get overwhelmed with emotions from his speech. Sure he has said many heartfelt words before but this one is definitely up there. You buried yourself into his chest as you continue to cried out in sob with a soft “Kento….”

Y’all stay in position for a while, embracing each other after a long time since the miscarriage. Tonight has helped you two beginning to understand the importance of being vulnerable again. You two don’t know what to expect in the future ,but you guys know that regardless of it y’all have each other and that will be enough.

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #nanami x fem!reader #nanami angst

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strnilolover · 2 days ago

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NNN - matt sturniolo - family issues

!Warming! : this writing may contain sensitive topics for some people, including family fighting and burn out. please read with caution if family arguments or arguments in general easily trigger you.

You had slammed the cabinet door shut harder than you expected to. Your mothers words cutting your skin like a knife, your patience snapping like a taut rubber band that had been stretched too far. “I can’t believe you just said that.” you gritted, turning to her.

Your mom stood across the kitchen, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed in irritation. “I said what I said. You’re always lounging around, doing nothing, while I’m the one keeping this house together.” she spat out.

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice rose as you turned to face her, incredulous. “I vacuumed the whole house this morning, cleaned the bathroom, and scrubbed the kitchen. I’ve been running around all day trying to keep this place livable while you’ve been sitting on the couch!” your voice raised more — you were irritated and upset.

why can’t she just see how hard you work?

“And yet, the laundry is still sitting in the basket, isn’t it?” she shot back, her tone sharp and cutting. “You can’t even finish one thing properly!” her own hands slammed against the counter as her words left her lips.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, shaking. “I can’t do everything! I’m one person! You don’t even notice the things I do unless there’s something left undone.” you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes — but you couldn’t let her see she was affecting you, you had to be strong.

“Oh, poor you,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Life is so hard for you, isn’t it? You act like you’re doing me some huge favor by cleaning, but you live here too. It’s your responsibility.”

You stared at her, your chest heaving. “Do you even hear yourself? I am doing my part, and then some! You’re the one who doesn’t lift a finger but still complains that nothing’s good enough.” you choked out.

Her face twisted in anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You have no idea what I deal with every day, keeping this house running and keeping you in it!” she screamed, coming around the counter and getting closer to you,

“Keeping me in it? Are you serious right now?” you echoed, your voice trembling more with disbelief and hurt. “You act like I’m some freeloader who doesn’t contribute. I’m breaking my back trying to help you, and all you do is tear me down!” Your said. “And on top of everything, I worked a full shift this morning. What more do you want from me?”

you were trying, you really were. Did she not see that?

Her scoff was sharp, cutting through the room. “Oh, sure. You do barely the minimum and expect a medal. Maybe if you spent less time pretending to help and more time actually contributing, I wouldn’t have to ask you for money all the time!” she was almost in your face now, you could feel her breath fanning you.

You stared at her, your hands trembling with frustration as you leaned back a little. “Are you seriously throwing that in my face? Every time you ask me for money, I give it to you. Every single time. Do you even know how hard it is to keep my job and still manage everything at home?”

She shook her head. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint,” she snapped. “You live here. It’s your responsibility to pitch in. Or do you think you’re entitled to a free ride?”

“I do pitch in! I’m doing everything! I pay bills when you’re short, I clean up after everyone, and I still go to work to make sure I can cover my own expenses. What do you even do besides sit there and criticize me?” you snapped back, leaning forward from your leaned back position — though that might not have been the best idea.

Her nostrils flared as her eyes turned dark, and she jabbed a finger at your chest — the force digging into your skin making you wince slightly. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me. I’ve sacrificed everything for this family, and all I ask is for you to pull your weight.”

“Pull my weight?” you repeated, your body beginning to tremble more from your overwhelmed emotions. “I’ve been carrying this house on my back, and you know it! But sure, let’s pretend I’m the problem. It’s easier for you, isn’t it?” you sniffled slightly, the words barely making it past your lips and you tried to keep it together.

“You know what?” she snapped, throwing her hands up. “If you hate it here so much, then maybe you shouldn’t come back. Go find somewhere else to stay if you think you’ve got it so bad.”

Her words stung, piercing deeper than you expected. “Fine,” you said, your voice cold and steady despite the tears beginning to spill over your waterline. “I will.”

Grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes, you muttered under your breath, “Maybe you’ll finally notice how much I actually do when I’m not here to do it anymore.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you realize how easy you have it,” she called out as you slammed the door behind you.

The cold night air hit your face, mingling with the tears that spilled over as you made your way to your car. Your hands were shaking so badly that it took three tries to get the keys into the ignition.

You barely registered the drive to Matt’s house, your mind replaying the fight over and over like a broken record. By the time you reached his front door, your tears were coming harder, the lump in your throat so heavy it hurt to swallow.

You hadn’t even raised your hand to knock when the door opened. Matt stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tousled like he’d been lying down, but his entire demeanor shifted the moment he saw you. His brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scanned your tear-streaked face.

“Baby,” he said softly, stepping aside to let you in. “What’s wrong?”

As soon as his arms opened, you crumbled into him. The second you felt his warmth and smelled the familiar scent of his cologne — something woodsy and comforting — you broke down completely. Your hands clutched at his hoodie as your sobs wracked your body.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it out.”

He gently guided you into the living room, keeping you close as he sat down on the couch and pulled you into his lap. His large hands rubbed soothing circles on your back while his other hand cradled the back of your head.

“I-I can’t do it anymore, Matt,” you finally managed to choke out between sobs. “She doesn’t see anything I do. She doesn’t care. She just — she just keeps tearing me down.”

“Who?” he asked softly, leaning back just enough to look at you. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Who’s tearing you down?”

“My mom,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “She said I don’t do anything, but I do everything. I worked this morning, cleaned the whole house, and then she asked me for money again — like she always does — and still told me I don’t pull my weight. It’s like… no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough for her.”

Matt’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with anger. “That’s not fair. You work so hard, and she has no right to treat you like that. I’ve seen how much you do, how much you give. You’re amazing, and if she can’t see that, then that’s on her — not you.” he said, holding you tighter to him.

You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks. “It just hurts, you know? I’ve been trying so hard to keep everything together, and she acts like I’m nothing but a burden.”

“You are not a burden,” he said firmly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Do you hear me? You are not a burden. You’re one of the strongest, most selfless people I know. She doesn’t deserve you.” he stated, making sure you knew his words were true.

“But she’s my mom,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I want to make her proud. I want her to see that I’m trying.” Matt’s expression softened, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. “I know you do. But you don’t have to destroy yourself to earn someone else’s approval, especially hers. You’re enough just as you are, okay? You’re more than enough.”

You let out a shaky breath, fresh tears spilling over, but this time they weren’t just from sadness. There was something in his words, in the way he held you, that eased the tightness in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He shook his head, “You don’t have to thank me,” he said gently. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He adjusted you in his lap, tucking the blanket tighter around your shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Listen, you’re staying here tonight. No arguments. I’m not letting you go back there like this.” he muttered against your temple.

“I don’t want to go back,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then you won’t,” he said firmly. “This is your home tonight, and for as long as you need it to be.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back, and his voice was soft when he spoke again.

“You know you’re not alone, right? You’ve got me. Always.”

You sniffled once more. “I know,” you whispered. “I just… I feel so unappreciated sometimes. Like nothing I do matters.” you could feel the self doubt settling into you now — from your mothers words earlier. Were you really not doing a good enough job?

“It matters to me,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “Everything you do matters to me. I see you, and I’m so proud of you. You’re doing more than anyone should ever have to, and you’re doing it so well.”

You looked up at him, your heart clenching at the sincerity in his eyes. “You really mean that?”

He hummed, “Of course I do,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it until you believe me. You’re incredible, and anyone who can’t see that is blind.” And a soft laugh escaped you, he grinned, his thumb brushing your cheek. “There she is. There’s my girl.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the nickname, and for the first time all day, the tightness in your chest began to ease. “Do you want to talk more about it, or do you just want to relax?” he asked gently. “Relax,” you said after a moment. “I’m too tired to think anymore.”

“Good call,” he said with a smile, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “How about something stupidly funny? Or do you want me to cook something for you first? I can make you those pancakes you like.” You shook your head, leaning into him. “Just stay with me.”

“Always,” he murmured, pulling you closer.

He put on some random comedy show, and you both sat in comfortable silence for a while. His hand never stopped tracing lazy patterns on your back, and every now and then, he’d drop a kiss to the top of your head. By the time you started to drift off, your body nestled against his, you felt a little lighter than you had in days.

a/n : am i self projecting? maybe. but i’m not in that situation anymore and haven’t been for over a year. but please, if any of you are in this kind of situation, know that there is always a way out. don’t be afraid to ask for help. (i also wrote this on the bus without my glasses so i’m so sorry if some parts may not make sense)

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tobythewise · 2 days ago

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My not-so-secret favorite ship is Dorian x Anders and I adore hurt/comfort (Anders is just so good for it)! So, with that in mind, I’ll suggest “It would have been a lot easier to treat if you’d mentioned it sooner.” For Dorian x Anders, if you’re up for it!

Thank you so much for this prompt!! Dorian/Anders is ALSO one of my secret favorite ships (although tbh I just love anyone with Anders don't at me... LOL)

Written for @dadrunkwriting featuring Inquisitor Anders, hurt/comfort, getting together

“Gods damn it, Dorian,” Anders grits through clenched teeth. He winces as Dorian slides out of his pants fully. Normally, the sight of an attractive man getting naked would bring Anders to his knees.

Dorian makes a broken noise, sitting down on the bench, carefully pulling the front of his shirt down to cover his dick while giving Anders the full view of his upper thigh. They’d just gotten back from that cursed swampy marsh. He’s not sure his boots will ever be dry again.

Apparently, Dorian took a knife to the upper thigh and instead of telling Anders about it straight away, the handsome mage decided it was fine and would heal on it’s own. What’s the point of being the Inquisitor if the people who follow you won’t use your spirit healing for their benefit?

Anders sighs, poking and prodding at the wound. It’s clearly infected. Probably a mix of undead grossness, swampy muck, and sweat being pressed into the wound inside Dorian’s tight pants. He’s not sure he can use his magic to pull the infection out. He’ll need to use herbs and once the infection is gone, he’ll be able to close it up with his magic.

“See,” Dorian says, his voice clearly strained as he puts on an easy smile. “It doesn’t look all that bad.”

“Not that bad? Are you trying to convince yourself?”

Dorian lets out an awkward chuckle. What is it with Anders falling for men who can’t seem to take care of themselves? Something like this could be deadly if they’re not careful. Blood poisoning is no laughing matter.

“This would have been a lot easier to treat if you’d mentioned it sooner.”

Dorian’s eyes dart away. “I didn’t want to be a bother, darling. You were so busy with,” Dorian flicks his wrist in a circle, gesturing around them. “You’re saving the world. Every day you’re on a new mission, saving lives, healing every soldier you can get your hands on. You deplete your mana until you’re glowing with Justice’s juices. I didn’t want to add anything more to your plate.”

Oh.

Anders’ heart skips a beat at the idea of Dorian caring for him. He wanted to protect Anders, even if the idea of hiding an injury is stupid in Anders’ book. It’s the thought that counts.

Anders hums softly, reaching into his bag and bringing out a jar of poultice. “This is going to hurt,” he says softly before putting a large amount directly into the wound. Dorian whimpers but Anders is careful and uses a tiny bit of magic to soothe the inflammation. Then he wraps up the wound with clean bandages.

Sweat drips down the side of Dorian’s brow, his eyes glued to Anders’ face.

“I’ll need to change these every morning and as soon as the infection has run its course, I’ll be able to properly seal and heal.”

Dorian’s hand touches Anders’ wrist, stopping him from pulling away. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want to be just another burden.”

“Dorian,” Anders breathes out. He’s still on his knees, between Dorian’s legs. They’re so close, achingly close, yet at the same time Anders wishes they were closer. “I’m not upset. I was worried. If anything happened to you--” Anders has lost too many people that he loves. He doesn’t think he’ll survive going through that yet again.

It would be better to put distance between them. He can’t get hurt if he doesn’t love again.

Unfortunately, it’s too late for that.

“Nothing is going to happen to me. Do you really think a little flesh wound could stop the evil magister from Tevinter who surely does blood magic while he’s reading those evil books all night?”

Anders’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, unable to stop the surprised chuckle that leaves him. “Is that the current rumor?”

“Yes,” Dorian says, raising his nose in the air. “There’s also a rumor about how I’m corrupting the Inquisitor.”

“Really? If anything, the abomination is corrupting the mages.”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen my fair share of abominations and none of them hold a candle to you. A handsome renegade if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Don’t let Varric hear you say that,” Anders says with a smile.

The hand on his wrist moves up to his face, gently cupping his face. “You have everything on your shoulders, Anders. You do so much for everyone. Who takes care of you?” Anders can’t meet Dorian’s eyes. “Ah, as I suspected.”

Dorian cups his chin, forcing him to raise his face. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that agreeable?”

“Is that? By the Maker, Dorian. Yes.”

They lean into each other, their lips meeting. Anders doesn’t remember the last time he did something just for him, but this kiss? This is just for him. The world fades away. There’s no anchor running up his arm, there’s no Corypheus, there’s no demon army. There’s just Dorian and Anders.

“Every time I love, it ends in disaster,” Anders whispers against Dorian’s lips. Despite how perfect this moment is, he feels like he has to warn Dorian.

Dorian huffs against his lips. “We’ve only just started and you’re already planning on it ending?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s okay if you do. You’re the best healer I know. Let yourself have this. Let me have this. You’re not the only one who hasn’t let himself imagine love.”

Anders wants to fight against this but he can’t. Dorian is right. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow, so why not embrace the here and now. This might not last but that’s no reason to cut it off before it even has time to bloom.

Instead of fighting, Anders embraces these feelings welling up inside his chest. He grabs the back of Dorian’s neck and kisses him again.

#tobywrites #dorian/anders #anders/dorian #fanfic #da drunk writing circle #dragon age #inquisitor anders #hurt/comfort

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edgichel · 18 hours ago

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Don’t get me wrong I love this show with all my heart and I’m happy that my lesbians get their ending but I feel like you can feel when a director stepped in to cut really important parts of the show. The show is still a 10/10 to me despite all of these complaints.

- I love Mel and Ekko (just needed to get that out)

- I love CaitVi with my soul, plus Cait and Vi as their own respective characters but I feel like Vi forgave her gf wayyy too quickly. Like I’m a Caitlyn defender/ lover since I played league but I feel like we brushed over a lot of her crimes ??

- like I’m happy we got a sex scene but like at the cost of Vi’s character tbh. Like what do you mean “I’ll always be the dirt under your nails” ?? Like idk I feel like there’s better ways to word “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried” instead of DIRT. Like why is JayVik’s (no hate I love the lab partners) entire thing more like.. thought out (?) YKWIM ??

- like we got one scene of vi screaming when jinx “died” and that’s kinda it. Like girl you just watched your sister “die” and your dad explode hello ?

- why is Sevika in the council. ACTUALLY what happened the whole plot of Zaun vs Piltover because no way everyone was chill with working with the force that oppressed them ??

- Louis (?) is that his name (?) could’ve/should’ve been developed more. Like his death was shocking sure but also sort of plugged in ?

- idk I feel like we missed the main plot of Zaun vs Piltover and while I’m not super upset about the whole arcane/magic stuff (the scene was gorgeous, go god viktor go)

TLDR I feel like things were clearly rushed, still a really solid show. tbh, I feel like S1 was better just pacing wise. Either way, I’m sure AO3 writers are gonna cook so !

Caitlyn is so hot with the eyepatch tho omg

#yan rambles #vi arcane #arcane season 2 #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi x caitlyn #arcane #league of legends

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sonicexelle-junkary · 17 hours ago

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I gotta ask as I’ve just recently read some of HungryHero and I gotta say the writing is fantastic. As a writer myself I want to ask what gave you the idea to write the story to begin with? If someone hasn’t asked already of course

I’m glad you enjoyed it! I really do enjoy writing for that au (as difficult as it might me).

The main thing for HH— and any au I have— is derived from personal trauma or stressful parts in my life, along with just general curiosity or interest. I use my stories more as a form of a coping mechanism. Also, I just use it to have fun with any idea that comes across my head.

The idea for HungryHero initially came after an extreme change in my life, which made me very upset and angry and I needed an outlet. This was at the time where Sonic.exe became popular again, so I also wanted to make a fairly edgy AU (inadvertently originally making him an exe).

The idea that initially kickstarted the whole “cannibalistic Sonic” idea came from a small web comic We Need to Talk About Tails. Eventually morphing into the original version of HungryHero.

After the first act was completed, I took a small break, eventually coming back to it and realizing exactly how dark, edgy, and out of character it was, so I completely rewrote it to be more in line with how the characters would act in each situation. While my AU’s are often mostly not cannon, I still like to keep them at least somewhat consistent to their cannon counterparts, it makes things a lot more interesting.

Sonic does still get mischaracterized in HungryHero as some crazy murder cannibal (fair, he was like that for a while). But more recently he’s been written with the thought “what would happen if Sonic began craving flesh?” Knowing how Sonic usually acts, and adding a little bit more emotion in order to sympathize with him better

I still get shit on for HH because it’s my most popular AU. A lot of people don’t understand that it’s not SUPPOSED to be cannon, so they shit on certain plot points and facts (that are often outdated). If they just hate him because I made him trans. As if that’s even the main focus of the damn story.

Even with the struggles, I still love this AU to death, and I hope I can continue it for everyone who’s been waiting.

#inbox #ask #HUNGRYHERO au

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omilkandhoneyteao · 22 hours ago

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I need to add on to the Viktor thing cause that’s literally my man and the direction they went with him is something I can’t grasp

ARCANE SEASON 2 SPOILERS

I’m sorry but the machine herald wasn’t even machine, it was magic!!! He’s not the Magic Herald, he’s the machine herald and yet they didn’t include any of that??

Correct me if I’m wrong because I don’t play League but isn’t the Machine Herald’s whole thing still being a man but wanting to IMPROVE humanity by taking away their weaker parts by exchanging them for machinery? And yet, in arcane, he doesn’t give a fuck and is just turning in to the people he “helped” in to mindless husks? Also when he got blown to bits by Jayce, I really thought he was gonna replace himself with mechanical parts but NO THEY JUST MADE HIM EVEN MORE MAGIC???

Like it’s so weird that they also kinda tried to make it seem like it was Viktor’s fault for becoming what he became when like

That man just wanted to get better??? Like the scenes with Jayce were sweet but the whole “you were trying to perfect yourself” NO SIR HE WANTED TO STOP AN ILLNESS THAT WAS CAUSING A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH??? Like idk if people realize this but Viktor was GRIEVING like he found out he was dying which is a gigantic pill to swallow and clearly he wasn’t in his right state of mine and then when he finally accepted his fate, his already short life span was cut SHORTER by the explosion and even then, I feel like it was the scene with the hexcore that took away HIS choice of 1) wanting to just die and 2) destroying the hexcore!

I also fully believe that while Viktor was doing bad things, I think the Arcane was a corrupt form of magic (we’ve seen that there IS good magic like Mel’s) and it was corrupting Viktor in a way that made him think what he was doing was the ONLY way and that he HAD to do because again, he wasn’t in a clear state of mind so I fully believe that he was aware of what he was doing but he truly believed this was the ONLY way (like I’ve mentioned earlier it’s so similar to Wanda with the Darkhold and how it was corrupting her when she was at her most vulnerable by showing her what she wanted and that by doing all those bad things, it’s the only way she could get her wish)

Another thing I hated was them revealing that the Mage wasn’t Ryze (IT SHOULD’VE BEEN HE WOULD’VE MESHED SO WELL WITH THE STORY) but Viktor and that he just kept going back in time so Jayce could stop him which is so ???

Like I’m sorry but that’s literally so dumb because it just makes the world of Arcane seem even smaller! Like the way season 2 has been trying to make connections that didn’t need to be there makes it seem like Piltover and Zaun as a whole have a population of 30!

Like it would’ve been so much sweeter (lowkey power of friendship type ship but I’ll leave it at that) if Jayce and Viktor CHOSE to be partners and brothers and friends and whatever it is you see them as and that it wasn’t forced because of “fate” but because of THEIR choice! Like it lowkey just takes away the characters autonomy cause it’s like “well yeah you actually didn’t pick this person it was predestined!!!”

It’s just so disheartening because Viktor is such a good character and to just take away all the good things they could’ve done with him is just upsetting.

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misspelledwordswizard · 2 days ago

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Chapter 21 - I have never cried so much in my two lives as I do today

Previous chapter / Next chapter

I wiped the tears that rolled down my cheeks, trying incessantly to calm myself, taking several deep breaths so I could speak. I want so much to be able to tell him everything, to all of them. I want to get rid of this weight, but I don’t have the courage to do so, but I know I can’t keep everything to myself.

— I... I’ve been having nightmares. – That was the way I decided to start, at least I should tell that part, after all, it involved them directly. – with the shadow. It started the night I first saw him, and I have reason to believe he’s behind it.

As I spoke, Time remained quiet, understanding, letting me talk at my own pace while rubbing circles on my back in na attempt to calm me down further. My voice was weak and tearful, shameful, I must sound pathetic right now.

— He doesn’t exactly appear in the dream, but it’s always something dark. The second time it happened was when I passed out, but it didn’t seem like a nightmare, until tonight, when I discovered that it was all created by that thing. – I continued, considering how much I could tell him. – He made me dream about my family, to the point of making me think that meeting you had been nothing more than a dream. I think he wanted to trap me in that.

My voice weakened at the thought of it, thinking that that thing used people I love for such a vile reason filled me with anguish. I need to be more honest with him.

— So, that night I had another nightmare. He talked to me, he kept talking about how I shouldn’t be with you guys and... – I took a deep breath – that you would leave me, hate me when you found out the truth.

— The truth about what? – Time asked, his tone seemed intimidating when I knew that the answer to this question could upset him, anger him or even hurt him.

— He threatened to tell my secret, a secret that if you guys found out you would hate me. I’m so sorry, Time, I’m so sorry! I never wanted to keep any secret, I never imagined something like this could happen. – My crying intensified, and I struggled to control the sobs that were hampering my speech. – At first I didn’t know who you guys were, I didn’t trust you completely, I was just a stranger and you would think I was crazy if I said that kind of thing! And as time went by it became even more difficult.

— Calm down, it’s okay. Whatever it is, I will understand, you don’t need to be afraid, we won’t leave you. In these last few days, you’ve managed to become more than just someone we need to protect, my dear. You’ve become part of this group, and we won’t leave you no matter what happens. Whatever it is, we’ll help you get through it.

The Old Man’s words were comforting, even though I still had my doubts about how far he would go to keep this. I don’t know if I’m ready, but I know they need to know, if I keep this to myself any longer, even when Time was so supportive, it would be a reason for them to not trust me, one more reason for them to hate me in the end.

— I want to tell you. I really want to, I need to too, if I find out through the shadows it could be much worse. I don’t know if I can, or you won’t believe me, or you’ll hate me, and both options are bad. – I tried to prepare him before everything, maybe if he knew how bad what I was going to say would be the impact would be better. – But first, there’s a problem. I don’t think I’m in my right mind, I can’t sleep.

— Well, I could tell that, why? Was it because of the threats?

— Yes, but it’s worse. There are not only empty threats in the dreams that await me, if I sleep and he makes me have nightmares again, I might never wake up. Last night, he did something with the dream that made me hurt my ribs... – I said, then I moved to lift my tunic until the purple on my skin was visible. – And today I came across this, in the same place, and there’s no way I could have done it outside of this nightmare.

I tried to read the hero’s expression as I made my point, I couldn’t tell if he believed it or not. But I wouldn’t judge him if he didn’t believe it, it was hard for me to do so. I definitely didn’t expect Time’s normally serious gaze to turn into a melancholic look full of regret, seeing it in his eyes made my heart clench, I felt guilty.

— I’m sorry. – He said, his voice low and weak, and that was definitely not what I expected to hear. Before I could question, the large man beside me pulled me into a warm hug on his lap, squeezing me firmly, but gently so as not to hurt me. – It’s my fault, I should have paid more attention. Your safety is my responsibility, and I relaxed when I thought I would be safe around here. I should have considered all the possibilities, I should have been more cautious, I should have noticed the signs to prevent things from getting that far.

His hug was warm, his warm body against mine was comforting, I had to hold back the emotional tears that filled my eyes. Time was without his armor, which was good, because I don’t think hugging him with that serious thing is that comfortable. I don’t know what made him think he was somehow to blame for all this, but it wasn’t true.

— Please don’t blame yourself. I’m the only one to blame for having kept all this from you for so long. Link, I want to tell you the truth, all of it, and I ask that you please listen to everything before you jump to conclusions. And also, I don’t know if I can do the same for others, but I’ll understand if you think I should, because it’s true. – He shook his head, trying to contradict my pessimistic assumptions, but I just wanted to get this weight off my shoulders. – I had a life before this.

If he found that last sentence strange, he didn’t show it, but he was definitely contemplative. Of course, that alone wouldn’t be enough for him to jump to his own conclusions, but it might be enough for him to think I’m delusional.

— I mean, literally, a past life that I remember clearly. I died and was reincarnated here, in this life, with all the memories, even those of my last moments. That in itself seems crazy, or not so much if you stop to think that you have also been reincarnated, even if you don’t have the memories, you can literally know your past life, I mean. – I interrupted myself, seeing that I was getting away from the focus. – The problem is that in my past life I was from another world. Or rather, another reality, probably. A very different one from here, different countries, kingdoms, culture, technology, races. A place where there is no magic or monsters, where the only rational race is the human being. With round ears, different from the Hylians. Oh, and the goddess Hylia herself or any other deity from here doesn’t exist there either.

I observed his expressions, waiting for any sign that would make me give up. But there was nothing, he seemed to be accepting all of this well, he just waited for me to continue until I got to the point of it all, the secret that I was so afraid to reveal. When he realized that I wasn’t continuing, he decided to say something to calm me down.

— I don’t think that’s crazy, if you want to know. For someone who has traveled through time several times, divided the timeline into three, is the reincarnation of a hero’s spirit and fought the demon king himself, a different reality isn’t that absurd. – He said, trying to comfort me and making me laugh softly in a tearful voice.

— That’s not the big problem, yet. – I sighed, mentally preparing myself for this, and continued. – In my old life, the world was full of technology, after all, we didn’t have any magic to help us. Among these technologies, there was something called video games, games, made to entertain people, telling stories, giving challenges, it was a type of thing that we saw on a screen like the one on the Sheikah slate in Wild and controlled characters with controllers, for fun. And for everyone that’s what it was, games, just that, just stories invented to entertain us.

It was clear he didn’t understand the point of it all, but he remained silent as I continued to explain, trying as best I could to make it all make some sense to him.

— I played several of these games, I loved them, but my favorites were a series of games with a particular story, one that seemed to be complete among them, even though it was possible to play them separately. These games told your story, Link. Yours and the others. Each of you had at least one game of your own, which I played and got to know all of your heroic adventures, from your point of view, I learned things, secrets, that you never told anyone. Not just me, but thousands of other people too. – I stopped, feeling my breathing become nervously uneven. I sighed and continued, not daring to look him in the eyes. – I didn’t know, I had no idea that it was all real. That was so common to me, so everyday, as common as reading a book around here. I didn’t know that everything was real, I didn’t know that you existed, I had no idea who was invading your space, and I definitely didn’t imagine that one day I would meet you! Me- I’m sorry, I acted like they were strangers to me when I knew so many things I shouldn’t have. I acted like I didn’t understand what was happening when I experienced everything from the comfort of my home. It took me a few years to understand everything and come to terms with it when I reincarnated, that everything I played was a fact, and when I did I felt bad about it, but I didn’t think it would go any further. I never thought I would meet them, much less that they would end up becoming such important people to me, to whom I would end up lying like a traitor!

I was already in a state of aesthetic crying again, the hero’s grip tightened around me, bringing me even closer to his body, letting me cry into his chest while rubbing my back in comfort. Even after that, even after I told him all these things, he was still worried about me, about how I was feeling. He should be furious, for being seen as just a story, for being a game, for not telling him. But no, he didn’t show any of that, at least not now.

— Hey, look at me. – His voice was soft as he gently held my chin and lifted it so I could look him in the eyes, but I looked away, unable to bear the weight of the guilt. He just wiped away the tears that were running down his face. – It’s okay, I believe you. I really do. And I’m not mad.

— You’re not? – I couldn’t be more perplexed.

— Of course not, dear. You’re not to blame for anything in this story. It would be the same as blaming someone for reading a book, wouldn’t it? To you, we were just characters like so many others, just like the ones in books I’ve read, and who’s to say they’re not real too? Maybe they’re in another reality, if this happened to you it can happen to anyone, and that doesn’t make you a bad person. – His words hit me like a wave of relief and doubt at the same time, making me cry horribly more, but this time, my crying was much more associated with how relieved I was by this reaction coming from him.

— But I kept this secret, shouldn’t you be mad at me for it? – Of course I didn’t want him to be, but I had to be sure.

— No, I understand you, in your situation I might never tell anyone. You were brave and selfless, you had your home destroyed, you were forced to join us, knowing full well what our enemy is capable of. You didn’t use any of your knowledge against us and you were always empathetic. That in itself shows what a good person you are. – Even with those words that warmed my heart, I still felt guilty. – You made the best choice, I don’t think it would have been wise to tell you this when we first met, and it’s totally fair that you were afraid. Please, don’t blame yourself.

— Link, I’m so sorry... – His look was enough to make me stop with that sentence, I was blaming myself again. – But I want you to know that you are all very special to me, and that was the reason I avoided telling you the truth so much. I don’t know what I would do if they hated me, but I couldn’t blame them. But I don’t know if I’m ready to tell others either.

— I understand, you don’t have to, not now. I also think it’s better to wait, we have other things to deal with now. I don’t think they’ll react badly, but it’s a lot to process, and right now I’d prefer for them to focus on the mission. – He ran his hand through my hair as he spoke, trying to calm the rest of the crying that was still left. – Don’t worry about them getting upset about keeping this to yourself either, I’ll tell them it was my idea.

That was good enough for me, I was able to calm down and think better about it all. In the end, I think I should thank that shadow for something, if it weren’t for his threat maybe I would have taken much longer to reveal this and things could have been much worse. I’m grateful to have Time’s support now, a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I wouldn’t be able to show him my gratitude with words, but maybe with actions it will become easier. I grabbed the big man in a tight hug. It was a little difficult, he was quite big to hug, but man, what a good hug. He wrapped his arms around my back, returning the hug warmly.

— Thank you, really. I don’t know what I would do without you. – My voice was muffled because my face was against his body.

— It’s okay, honey, I’m here, and I’ll make sure that shadow doesn’t hurt you, ever again. – I felt his grip tighten, protectively. – So, you’re technically older mentally than physically, right?

— Hm? Oh, well, yes, I must be twice as old mentally. Why?

— Nothing, I was just curious, but that kind of makes sense. – He said, laughing softly. – Now, you should sleep.

— Oh, I’m exhausted. I don’t know how I’m saying it yet. But I can’t...

— Yes, you can, don’t worry about it, I’ll stay here with you, I won’t let anything happen, and I’ll wake you up if you have another nightmare. – He said, pushing me away so he could look me in the eyes.

— What? But then you won’t get any rest! – I complained, I’m not willing to rest at the expense of others.

— It’s okay, seriously. I’m used to it, and I can sleep in the morning, it’s good to enjoy it while we’re still in Skyloft.

I sighed, too tired to argue with this. The empathetic part of my brain said it wasn’t right, but everything else was begging for a long nap. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all, at least I was willing to give it a try. Before I could agree, Time picked me up with impressive ease and stood up, able to put me down on the bed properly for the night.

— Hey, what’s up? It wasn’t necessary.

— Yeah, it wasn’t necessary, but I wanted to.

Sometimes this grown man could be very childish when he wanted to be. I like that. He laid me down on the bed and covered me with the blanket, pulling the armchair in the room closer so he could stay there during the night. He kept only a flickering light from the lamp on, so he could continue reading a book and avoid accidentally falling asleep. Then he finally approached me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

— Good night, my dear, have sweet dreams and rest. I’m here for you.

With that, it didn’t take long for me to lose consciousness and fall into the dream world I had been waiting for, dreaming, for some reason, of muscular blonds who carry me in their arms wherever I want to go.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #lu x reader #tloz #legend of zelda #linked universe fanfic #x reader #lu chain

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