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rocksslide · 2 years ago
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Your honor, they own the world. o7
Here goes my gift to @moneyoniis for the @technoblade-gift-exchange. I hope you like it! Little fun facts about this in the tags.
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wosoamazing · 9 months ago
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Broken
Summary: You break your ankle and Alexia takes care of you.
Warnings: Broken ankle, hospital & surgery, vomit (once)
A/N: I hope you like this, I'm trying to get a heap of my WIPs done, while I still have time. Also to those anons with the new requests I've added them to the WIPs.
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It was the 25th minute when you found yourself tumbling to the ground from a badly timed tackle a Lyon defender played, you clutched at your ankle, trying to suppress your cries as you laid on the pitch.
“Y/N, are you okay? I’m really sorry,” a familiar voice said as they rubbed your back trying to reassure you, the ref hadn’t stopped play yet, but that didn’t stop her from checking on you. Eventually the ref blew the whistle.
“Number 12, I’d like to speak to you please,” you heard the ref say as the hand that rested on your back left, it was very quickly replaced by another though.
“Y/N, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Aitana asked you.
“Ankle, broken,” you managed to spit out, trying to hold back the tears that choked you.
The medics took one look at your ankle and decided it was most definitely broken, you refused the stretcher and so they helped you to the medical room, where an ambulance stretcher was awaiting you, you were helped up onto it and your ankle was placed in one of the weird orange puffy things to protect it, the paramedics spoke to your team’s physios filling out all the medical information and history forms.
“Bebita,” Alexia said as she flung open the door, her voice laced with concern, “are you okay,” you broke at her words, the flood gates came crashing down, tears streamed out of your eyes and all you could do was slightly shake your head in response to her question, she quickly moved to your side and held your head to her chest, as she rubbed your back, “I’m here for you Bebita okay, you can stay with me for international break and for as long as you want after, I don’t mind at all, I’ll take care of you, it will be okay, you will get through this.”
____
You wake up from surgery and can hear your sister’s voice, saying something about getting on a plane, the words I’ll just miss international break cause you to return to reality and speak up ever so quickly. 
“No Leah, you aren’t giving up international break. Go, I will not let you not go. I will call Sarina personally if I need to. Alexia said she would look after me and that I could stay with her for as long as I want, even once Lucy and Kiera come back, I will be fine.” Alexia smiled and took Leah off speaker but kept talking, you fell asleep again.
“I went to help Kiera and Lucy pack for you and got you some clothes to wear, they’re going to discharge you soon,” Alexia told you as she walked into the room, noticing you were awake again, you nod at her.
“Do you want help getting change?”
“Um, maybe” you said hesitantly. She just kindly smiled as she grabbed a pair of your shorts from the bag, carefully placing your casted leg in before you helped put your good leg in, she pulled them up to your knees and you did the rest.
“Put this on, I’ll turn around,” she said as she handed you a crop top, she was sifting for something in the bag while you put on the crop top.
She turned back around when you told her you were done, hiding whatever she was trying to find in the bag behind her back, before looking at you with a grin “I thought you might want this one today,” she said as she held up an arsenal hoodie for you to wear, it wasn’t just any arsenal hoodie though, it was your special number 6 hoodie that Leah had given you when you left, it was her favourite one too. You smiled gratefully at her, feeling very loved and taken care of in that moment. Mapi and Ingrid then walked in ready to take you home, Alexia sat in the back seat with you, she held your hand the whole ride.
Alexia’s house was large and quite fancy, Mapi and Ingrid led the way as Alexia stayed behind you making sure you didn’t fall behind, she helped you up the stairs and all three girls help get your situated in the spare room, placing anything you may want within reach, before they left, leaving you to sleep.
____
You woke up and needed to pee, you shuffled to the side of the bed, and carefully reached for your crutches, you brought them to your side, before going to take one in either hand to stand up. You didn’t have as stable a grip on them as you thought, and they went crashing to the ground, hitting your cast causing a wave of pain to flow through your ankle and a wave of tears to fall from your eyes. You then heard the sound of panicked rushed footsteps approaching before your door was flung open.
“Bebita, what happened?” Alexia said as she rushed to your side, bending down so she was level with you.
“I tried to get up and go to the toilet, but my crutch fell and hit my cast. I’m sorry”
“There is nothing to be sorry for Bebita, do you want me to help you to the bathroom,” you nod embarrassed. “Okay,” she said as she picked up the crutches and leant them against the wall, then placed her hands under your arms before she helped you stand up and handed you your crutches, she followed close behind you as you slowly made your way to the bathroom, and stood by the door encase you need her help. 
“Ale,” you shyly said. “Sí,” she replied cautiously. “Could you maybe please possibly help me stand while I wash my hands, and maybe also please flush.” 
“Of course, Bebita, do you want me to come in now?” 
“Yes please” you felt embarrassed needing help to do such simple tasks but Alexia was being super sweet, a side of her that you had always been met by, she was very kind to all your teammates and cared for them all, but there was something extra soft about how she acted towards you, always giving you that little bit extra. The team clearly could see that she held a soft spot in her heart for you. Some thought (cough cough Mapi) it might be because you remind her of her younger self and she was not welcomed with much kindness, love and understanding, meaning she would always push herself too far and she didn't want this for you, however others thought she just saw you as a little sister more so than a younger teammate, either way you didn't mind.
“Would you like to come downstairs and sit on the couch for a bit? I think Olga is making some food if you want. But only if you feel up to it and want to, of course.”
“Um, yes please” she nodded her head and walked with you to the top of the stairs, you looked down them, and they suddenly looked very daunting, and seemed like a mammoth task, maybe you just wanted to stay upstairs after all.
“Do you want me to carry you down?” it was as if she could read your mind, you nodded hesitantly before she picked you up and carried you downstairs, you leant against the wall as she quickly went up and got your crutches.
“Hauria de trobar que el nostre joc de crosses faria la vida més fàcil” (I should find our set of crutches, would make life easier) she mumbled to herself as she walked down the stairs.
“Yes, it would,” you said as you smirked at her. She was caught off guard, surprised at how quick you were able to interpret her Catalan, she had been teaching you for only a short while.
“Very good Bebita, go sit on the couch, I’ll just go get some things for you.”
You made your way into the living room, to find that the corner seat of the couch had been set up for you, there were many pillows, some blankets and even your plush ladybug, that the arsenal team got for you, you barely ever had it out and had only ever spoken to Alexia about it once, you felt warm inside knowing that alexia really truly did care about you. As you sat on the couch you noticed that on the coffee table there was a bottle of pain meds, a sick bowl, and a sheet with instructions on it, some parts were highlighted. You picked up the sheet and saw that the first highlighted section said that the pain meds may cause nausea and vomiting, which explained the sick bowl, there were also lots of other boring things you couldn’t be bothered to read.
Alexia came back with your apple ecosystem, placing it down on the coffee table, before she quickly rushed off to the kitchen with your water bottle. You heard her ask Olga if she needed help while she was in there who said no. She came back with your full water bottle. “Ale, can you sit with me please?” you asked her, as she looked like she was about to go away again, she smiled kindly and sat down next to you. You rested your head on her shoulder as you lent into her side, she placed one of her arms around you.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, she didn’t respond but placed a kiss on top of your head.
A few minutes later Olga brought you over a bowl of Paella, one of your new found favourite dishes. Alexia informed you that you needed to try and eat all of it so you could take your pain meds, that tasking wasn't going to be a difficult one. You were quite lively the first 15 minutes after dinner, however after 15 minutes you had quietened down, you lent into Alexia’s side, “Ale, I feel sick.”
“Do you feel like you’re going to be sick? Or do you just feel bad?”
“I don’t know,” you responded, sounding like you might cry, before you pushed your face into her side. Olga got up and placed the sick bowl and your water bottle next to Alexia on the couch, Alexia said a quiet thank you to her before she walked into the office. 
“That’s okay, do you want to lie down?” you shook your head, she felt the slight moment against her side, “just let me know if you want or need anything okay” you just hummed in response.
Another 15 minutes had passed, with every minute you felt increasing bad, to the point that you thought you might actually be sick, so you sat up, and Alexia saw your expression out the corner of her eye, quickly grabbed the sick bowl before saying “It’s okay Bebita, if you need to be sick, be sick, it’s okay” and after a minute of deep breaths your started to loose the contents of your stomach. Alexia rubbed your back the whole time.
“’m sorry” you said, as small tears slowly rolled down your cheeks.
“It’s okay Bebita, it's not your fault. Do you feel better now?” she said as she still rubbed your back, holding the sick bowl still encase you needed to be sick. “I guess,”
Olga had heard the commotion from the office and had walked in with two wash clothes, she handed one to you and handed one to Alexia whilst she took the sick bowl from her, you wiped your face with the cloth before Olga took it back, you drank some water before you decided to lie down, resting your head in Alexia’s lap. Alexia put the cool wet washcloth Olga had handed her on the back of your neck and you hummed, the coolness feeling nice.
You fell asleep pretty quickly, Alexia decided not to move you, as it would be difficult but also because the wood floors would be a lot easier to clean than the carpet if you happened to suddenly be sick again during the night. So she shifted her position to lay behind you on her side, she wrapped her arm around you and pulled you closer, keeping her arm there so you didn't roll off the couch during the night. It was quite a large couch though so the chances of that were low.
Olga walked into the living room to suggest it was bedtime, when she saw the both of you sleeping, Alexia hugging you and you hugging your lady bug. Olga quickly took a photo to send to Leah before she turned the lamp on and the main light off, and went upstairs to her bed to sleep.
____
It was the night before the girls would return from international break, you were very much enjoying living with Alexia and Olga, and the dynamic seemed more free flowing than at Lucy and Kiera’s so you decided to jump the gun and ask Alexia if you could move in.
“Ale, you know how you said I could stay as long as I wanted, and how when I first came you offered for me to live with you? Um, well, I was just wondering if that offer still stands.”
“You want to move in?” She asked, checking that she understood you right.
“Um, well yeah, I think, only if that is okay with you and Olga of course, and you can say no.”
“Of course you can Bebita, I would love that.” She said before she pulled you in for a big hug.
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tropes-and-tales-archives · 10 months ago
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Whistle Down the Wind, Chapter Ten
Word Count: 4503
TW:  Idiots in love, angst, smut (PiV, protected). 18+ only.
AN:  Part of a series.  The series masterlist here.
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You were late.  Again.
To be fair, though, it wasn’t your fault this time.  When your plane landed at LaGuardia, it ended up taxiing for forty minutes until it found an available gate, and then you had to sprint to baggage claim.  And then you had to find a taxi, and when you did, traffic was so bad that the driver shot into New Jersey and took I-95 to get to Staten Island.
It didn’t matter, as long as you got there eventually.  Sometimes you had to take the long way round.
********
It was a subdued Thanksgiving, which suited Sonny just fine.  Theresa’s daughters, since the divorce, had to split their holidays between their parents, so they were with their father.  Theresa herself had opted to stay in Connecticut and host her own wine-based, solo Thanksgiving for herself.  Gina and her latest boyfriend had stopped in for a quick dinner but had left to go to his family’s house on the other end of the island.  Bella and her baby – a little girl named Moira – were taking a nap upstairs in her childhood bedroom, exhausted by the baby’s awful sleep schedule.  That left Sonny parents and Tommy in the living room, watching the football game and dozing off from their respective turkey comas.
Sonny was so exhausted that he was having trouble sleeping.  It had been an awful year.  He had an undercover assignment with a men’s shelter that left him shaken to his core about the thin possibility of redemption for lost souls.
His sergeant had also been gunned down and killed.  They never replaced him, though, so SVU was running perpetually short-handed.  He rarely had time off, he never had time to recover from one case to the next, and his commanding officer seemed pretty cavalier about the mental wellness of her detectives.
If he ever needed his best friend, it was now, but he respected your choice to move to L.A.
He kept in touch with you, of course.  He called and texted, and the two of you had a few video chat sessions.  You showed him your cramped little apartment a few blocks from the ocean, and once you had a chat from London, where you were working on a limited episode run for a streaming service. 
He loved seeing you, but it left him heart-sore.  Seeing you on the screen of his laptop could not compare to the genuine article.
He held back a lot of his work struggles.  He didn’t tell you how lonely he was, how much he missed his friend.  He didn’t want to make you regret your choice.  All the same, you seemed to sense when he was at his lowest, because a new playlist always seemed to appear for him to bolster his flagging spirits.
The best playlists, though, were the ones he was able to buy after you started your stint on the west coast.  You got work – first with the limited run series, then with a bare-bones action film, then with a larger film.  You scored a documentary, and the haunting piano and string-based score was nominated at some film festivals.  Sonny bought every soundtrack and score that had your name on it. 
He set up a news alert for your name and got some traffic.  The best was a profile about new up-and-comers.  It was a group shot of everyone in the piece, but he was able to crop everyone else out on his computer.  You looked amazing in it:  hair down and styled, in a chic tuxedo tailored to your form, with a slight smile on your face.
Still, he missed you.  And on days like Thanksgiving, he felt your absence more keenly.
He sat with his parents and Tommy for a bit, half-heartedly watching the Lions play.  He wondered what you were doing.  Probably hanging out with your new friends, eating the authentic Mexican food you were always raving about.
He stood up abruptly and made his way down to the rec room in the basement.  Most holidays – and summers when you were in college – that’s where you and Sonny ended up.  It was your movie hub:  just the two of you curled up on the couch together, under his nonna’s scratchy acrylic crocheted blanket (because he cranked the air to an uncomfortable degree on purpose), watching a movie and ignoring the tension between the two of you.  Well, he knew it was tension now.  At the time, he had just thought it was him.
He sprawled out across the old couch and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until he found something.  “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.”  Sonny smiled.  It was one of your favorite movies, and he settled down and watched it.  If his mind wandered, it wandered back to your final week in the city.  Those few final days you had spent together, mostly in his bed (and in his shower and on his couch and once on his kitchen counter).  He replayed those moments over and over, but the details had grown hazy over time.  All he could vividly remember was the feeling of completion and contentment when you had fallen asleep beside him.
The movie was about halfway done when he heard people talking upstairs – laughter and little shrieks of joy.  He guessed that Moira was awake and his mother was cooing over her.  Or maybe Tommy and his dad were really getting into the Lions game.
He heard the basement door open and someone take a few tentative steps down the creaky stairs.  It must be time for dessert and coffee, but Sonny wasn’t hungry.
“I’ll be up in a bit, ma,” he called over the back of the couch, focused on the screen in front of him. 
“I’m not your ma, stretch,” a familiar voice replied in a teasing lilt, and he shot up into a sitting position just in time to see you descend the rest of the steps. ********
Your first thought was that you broke him.  He stared at you over the back of the couch so long without saying anything, you worried that he had died in place.
Your second thought, as you looked him over was, Christ, he looks exhausted.
Sonny was as handsome as ever.  His hair was a little greyer, but it made him hotter, in your opinion.  It was soft and tousled, unstyled – your favorite version of his hair.  His eyes were as blue as the ocean.
But he looked pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes, and the lines around his eyes were deeper than the last time you saw him.  You knew that his job wasn’t easy, and you knew from Bella that it had been more difficult than usual.  You worried that you hadn’t made things easier on him either.
He continued to stare at you, and your eyes flicked to the TV.  It was one of your favorite holiday movies, and you made a little cry of delight.  You walked around to the couch and made to sit down to watch, but Sonny shot to his feet and pulled you into a fierce hug.  He wrapped his long arms around you and squeezed you so hard you thought your ribs would break again. 
“You’re really here,” he muttered into your hair.
“I am,” you replied.  Your face was pressed against his chest, and you breathed him in.  He wore a cologne that always made you think of growing things – a sort of fresh, green smell that combined with his soap and his own body chemistry.  “I would have been here sooner, but traffic was a nightmare.”
He squeezed you to him for another moment, then pushed you away, his hands firmly placed on your upper arms.  “No one told me,” he said, looking you over.  “You didn’t tell me.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”  You suddenly felt shy underneath the scrutiny of his gaze, and you ducked your head.
He moved both of his hands to either side of your face.  “It’s the best surprise ever,” he declared, and he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.  You sighed and kissed him back.  You had missed him so much.
He tilted your head, deepening the kiss.  You felt him part his lips and run the tip of his tongue along your lower lip, but before you could open your mouth to him, the basement door swung open again.  A voice – Bella’s – yelled down that coffee and dessert were being served.
“And stop making out, you perverts,” she added for good measure, and you ignored her cackling laughter with all the dignity you could muster. 
********
Sonny sat across from you at the dining room table as everyone gathered for pumpkin pie and coffee.  You immediately scooped baby Moira from Bella’s arms, claiming that you had to make up for lost time.  The baby grabbed at your hair and tried to shove her chubby fist in your mouth.  She was completely enamored with you.
Baby Moira wasn’t the only one.  Sonny felt like he would never be able to look at you enough.  Your hair was just a shade messy – he knew it was from your cross-country flight, but it looked exactly like your usual post-sex hair, and it made him feel more turned on than he would usually like while sitting with his family at the dining room table. 
You were in relaxed jeans and a button-down flannel shirt, partially unbuttoned and revealing a lace-trimmed camisole underneath.  You looked completely comfortable, and maybe for the first time since Sonny met you – completely comfortable with yourself.  You had a relaxed air about you.  Maybe it was all the sunshine.  More likely, it was all those tamales that you raved about.
Bella dished out pie while Dom Senior poured mugs of coffee and passed them around.  Sonny’s mother went to the kitchen and came back a few minutes later bearing a plate of reheated leftovers.  She placed it in front of you with a smile.
“I’m sorry I was late,” you said with a rueful shrug.  “Our plane didn’t have a gate and it took forever to get here.”
His mother waved off your apology.  “We’re just glad you’re here.”
You tucked into your leftovers one handed, your other arm cradling the baby as she dozed off against you.  It made Sonny smile to see it.  You were always such a natural with his nieces – even this one who had just met you.
“How long are you staying?” Dom Senior asked. 
You chewed a forkful of stuffing and swallowed before you answered.  “I fly back on Sunday morning.”  Sonny felt his stomach drop.  You were only here for a few days, and it already felt like time was slipping away too quickly.
You glanced over at him and caught his gaze before you continued.  “I have a few more months on my sublet here in New York, but after that, I’m going to move back.”  You gave him a smile.  “I’ve made great connections, and I’ll probably have to travel back to L.A. more than I’d like, but plenty of composers and musicians live elsewhere.”
Bella scoffed and gestured to the window where an icy rain was pattering against the glass.  “You’re trading in warm weather and sunshine for this?”
“Aren’t you the one who gave me a list of reasons why L.A. was worse than New York?” you teased back.
“I just liked living vicariously through you,” she shot back.  “How many friends run into one of the Marvel Chrises on the way to the bathroom?”
You nodded and took another bite of stuffing.  “True.  But I can’t keep up with the people out there.  Too many diets and workouts.  Everyone assumes I’m a wannabe actress and critiques me accordingly.”  You scowled at your plate.  “One producer told me that I was a ‘New York five but an L.A. two,’ and that was after he realized I was there to score his garbage movie.”
Sonny felt a flare of hot anger to hear that some guy made you feel bad about yourself.  “You’re a Staten Island eleven,” he blurted, making the table erupt in laughter.  He felt his face growing red, and his dad reached over and clapped him hard on the back.
“Smooth, son,” he chuckled, but Sonny’s mom reached over from the other side and smacked her husband. 
“Like you ever did any better,” she teased.  Dom Senior snatched her hand as she tried to draw it back and kissed the back of it.
“I did good enough to get you,” he said with a wide grin, making Bella groan in embarrassment.  Sonny, though, could only watch you across the table.
********
Sonny’s family was old-fashioned, despite having a grandchild out of wedlock and a daughter who had recently divorced.  As such, you and Sonny put up what you hoped was a convincing charade about how he was going to drive you to a friend’s place where you were crashing for the next few days. 
The reality, of course, was that within seconds of returning to his apartment, he had you pressed against his door, the two of you kissing fiercely and pawing at each other like you were each drowning.  There were too many sensations and emotions:  the feel of his warm hands as they untucked your shirt and camisole to touch your back.  His mouth on yours, his lips impossibly soft.  His thigh, as it pressed between your own legs and parted them.
You reached down and tugged at his grey Henley, breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over his head, ruffling his hair even more.  You tossed it aside and then his mouth was back on you, kissing the sensitive spot at the junction of your neck and shoulder, sending chills through you.
“I missed you so much, doll,” he whispered against your neck.  His breath was hot and sent another tremor through you.
You ran your fingers through his hair.  “I missed you more,” you breathed back.
Sonny fumbled at your shirts.  His fingers scrabbled at your button-up, and he mumbled curses when he couldn’t get it undone fast enough.  When he did get it unbuttoned, he tried to pull it off of you, but your sleeves got caught and he cursed again as he unbuttoned the cuffs. 
You pushed him off of you so that you could handle it, so he shifted his attention to his own clothes.  He tugged his undershirt over his head, but slowed and then stopped completely to watch you as you removed your camisole.
You bent over and pulled your boots off, then straightened up to unbutton your jeans.  You looked up at Sonny and laughed at him.  His chest was rising and falling with his shuddering breaths, and his mouth hung slightly agape.
He moved swiftly to you.  He pressed you back against the door, latching his mouth on the pulse point.  You laid your hands on his bare chest and tugged on his sparse smattering of blond hair there.
Sonny’s hands drifted down to your hips and finished unzipping your jeans.  He unlatched his mouth from your neck and worked his way down, pushing your pants down over your hips, down you thighs.  His ran his warm palms over your bare legs before he pulled your jeans over your feet and tossed them aside.
He knelt in front of you, and you laid your hands on the top of his head.  You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging it gently, trying to get him to stand back up.  He looked up at you, in just your underwear, while he was still half-clothed.
“You need to catch up, Dominick,” you said.  You loved the way his sunny blue eyes turned dark when you called him by his first name. 
Instead of responding to you, he slid an arm behind you, cupping your ass in his large hand and pulled your lower half towards him until his face was pressed into your lower belly.  You ran your nails over his scalp, drawing low groans from him that vibrated through you.  His hot breath made the throbbing between your legs increase almost painfully.  You felt dangerously close to losing your legs underneath you.
“S-Sonny,” you stuttered as he moved his mouth a fraction lower.  “I need you.”
“You have me,” he murmured against you.  He licked along the lace waistband of your panties, making your knees buckle just a bit. 
You tightened your grip on his hair, drawing another groan from him.  You felt almost dizzy with desire and had to press the back of your head against the door and take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.
“Sonny, we have plenty of time,” you told him in a strangled voice.  “But right now, I really need you.”
His other hand landed on your hip, tugging at the edge of your panties and pressing wet kisses on each new inch of exposed skin.  He didn’t reply, too focused on moving his mouth closer and closer to his target.
“Damnit, Dominick!” you yelled, and you pulled his hair hard enough to get his attention.  He looked up and shot you a wounded look, like a puppy that had been scolded, but whatever he saw on your face made him stand up and press the length of his body against yours.  You pulled his face to yours and kissed him breathlessly, without any art or ability.  Just his mouth with his soft lips against yours, tongues sliding against each other, breathing each other’s moans.
“I need you,” you repeated, panting against him.  He shifted his head back to the nook against your neck.  “Please.  I…I’ve waited for this for months.  I’ve missed you, Sonny.  So, so much.”  You wrapped your hand along the back of his neck, stroking between his hairline and the knobs of the top of his spine.  You felt rather than heard Sonny sniffling against you, and you felt the first tears when they hit your shoulder.
“I missed you too, doll,” he said.  “And it’s been a tough year.”  His voice was watery, and you tightened your grip around him, pulling him as tight as you could.  He took deep breaths against you as he tried to regain his composure, and once he was calmed, you took his face between both of your hands.  You forced him to face you, and you looked into his brilliant blue eyes, now rimmed and swollen from his tears.
“I love you, Dominick,” you said solemnly.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
He shook his head gently between your hands.  “I’m glad you went, doll.”  His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at you.  “I’d never want to hold you back.”
You couldn’t help but smile back at him – his namesake sunniness was contagious.  “I’m here now though.”
“You are.”  He reached down to grasp the back of your thighs, and you jumped up into his arms.  You bit back a moan at the sensation of him pressed against your core, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you into his bedroom and laid you down on the bed.
He stood at the foot of the bed and removed the rest of his clothes, and you wriggled out of your underwear so that when he crawled over you, you were both completely naked. 
You could feel the conflict in him – you knew that Sonny was gentle and probably wanted to take his time, but you also could feel how badly he missed you.  He settled on an uneven middle ground, pressing slow, wet kisses to you while his hands roved wildly over your form. 
His mouth drifted a lazy path from your mouth to your jaw and down your neck, across your collarbones and back to your mouth.  His hands wandered down your sides and up your front to cup first one breast and then the other.  He stroked your nipples until they were peaked and hard under his caresses. 
Spurred on by your moans and your squirming underneath him, his hand glided further down until it was pressed between your legs.  He slid a finger between your folds and groaned at how wet you were.  He pulled his head back to peer down at you, and your face felt red-hot.
“I told you I needed you,” you muttered at him, avoiding his gaze.
“I told you that you have me,” he replied thickly, and he pushed his finger into you slowly, making both of you moan.  Your face grew hotter, which didn’t seem humanly possible, as he stared down at you through half-lidded eyes.  He slid a second finger into you, then shifted his hand so that his thumb was circling your clit.
You huffed out a breath through your nose and tried to calm yourself, but you felt a liquid heat pooling deep in your belly, and you knew you weren’t going to last long. 
“Sonny, stop,” you whispered.  You felt him hesitate and pull his hand away from you.  You looked up and saw the question in his eyes.
“I want to…finish,” you stammered.  “With you, you know.  Inside me.”
He nodded and shifted his weight off of you to reach into his nightstand for a condom.  You used the moment to try and steady yourself again, squeezing your eyes shut as you heard him rip the wrapper.  Then you felt him stretch himself on top of you again, and you felt his hand cup your face, the thumb stroking your cheekbone.
“Hey, look at me,” he said softly.  You opened your eyes and looked up at him.  He gazed down at you as if you were the only other person in the world.
All the years of frustrated longing, all the other people you’d each been with, every conversation and glance laden with unrequited love – it all fell away when he looked at you like that.  You smiled at him and reached up to cup his own face in your palm, and he leaned into it, touch-starved.  After a moment, you simply nodded at him, and he reached down to line himself up with your entrance.
He pressed the tip of his erection into you with a groan, and you felt dangerously close to the edge.  He slid into you slowly – way too slowly.  His position on top of you made the angle shallow, and his length dragged along your sensitive clit as he pressed himself into your molten core. 
You wanted to make it last, but every single sensation was too much:  the friction on you bundle of nerves where the two of you were joined.  His hot breath, panting praise in your ear.  The scent of his cologne and your perfume mingling along with the headier scent of sex. 
He was only halfway inside you, but it was too late.  You gasped his name once, and then shuddered underneath him with a whimper, your legs wrapping around him to pull the rest of him into you in one thrust.  He started to reply to you, but he growled instead as your sheath gripped him, your orgasm ripping through you.  You shut your eyes as you came, moaning his name over and over.  You were distantly aware of him cursing above you, and he gave a single thrust until he came too.
He collapsed on top of you completely, and his weight pressed you into the mattress.  He groaned again, in frustration this time.  You stroked his hair at the back of his head until you both recovered.  He lifted his head to looked down at you.
“I’m sorry,” you each said at the same time, and you both laughed.  He leaned down and kissed you firmly before he shifted his weight and pulled out of you.  He left the room for a moment to dispose of the condom, then he came back into the bedroom.  He laid down beside you, and you each turned on your sides to face each other.
“I’m sorry I came too quickly,” you said with a rueful grin.  “I was too worked up, I guess.”
He pinched your chin lightly between his fingers and kissed you again.  “It’s all well and good for girls,” he grumbled good-naturedly.  “But I didn’t last at all.  Now all my street cred it gone.”  You laughed at this, and he pretended to look angry.
“It’s your fault,” he continued.  “You set me off.”
“Well, I owe you then,” you replied.  You tried to look contrite.  “Since your street cred is gone and all that.”  You snuggled up against him, enjoying the feeling of his skin pressed against yours.  He wrapped a lanky arm around you and pulled you tighter.
You felt comfortably drowsy, the net effect of your flight, Ma Carisi’s dinner, and being back in Sonny’s bed.  He hummed above you contently, and you started to doze off until your cell phone chimed from the other room.  You roused a bit but settled back against him.
Then it chimed again, and a third time.
“You need to get that?” Sonny asked.  His voice rumbled through his chest.  “Your west coast boyfriend, maybe?”  You knew he was joking, but there was still a jealous undercurrent to his tone.
“There was no west coast boyfriend,” you murmured against him.  “Unless you count my detachable shower head.”
He snorted at this but you could feel the relief in him as he relaxed against you. 
Then his phone chimed, one after another after another.
“Is that Nicole?” you asked, only half-meanly.  He snorted again before he untangled from you and grabbed at his pants at the foot of the bed. 
“Be careful,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his pants pocket.  “If you say her name three times, she’ll turn up and haunt your house.”  You laughed at this and sat up.  You wound his blanket around yourself.  Sonny unlocked his phone.
“Is it work?” you asked.  You felt your stomach dip.  You wanted to stay in this little bubble with Sonny for the entire weekend.  A little sex bubble, maybe with the occasional movie and homemade pasta break.
He just chuckled in reply.  “No, it’s Bella.”  He held up his phone so that you could read the screen.  “She tried to text you and you didn’t reply.  Now she’s of the impression that you’re here with me, corrupting her chaste, virginal brother with your wanton ways.”  He typed out a reply, then turned off his phone and tossed it on the nightstand before lying back down.  He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you down beside him.
“What did you tell her?” you asked.
“The truth,” he said.  He kissed you chastely, then tilted his head to deepen the kiss.  He broke away to look down at you, and his blue eyes were glittering with unshed tears again.  “I told her that you’re home.”
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qnewsau · 13 days ago
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Did a Down Under queen drink the first beer on Drag Race?
New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/did-a-down-under-queen-drink-the-first-beer-on-drag-race/
Did a Down Under queen drink the first beer on Drag Race?
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Drag Race Down Under queen Lazy Susan has addressed an extremely Aussie detail people noticed during the season four premiere.
The Aussie/New Zealand spinoff returned with a new crop of queens for season four on Friday night.
The newly-retitled season is the first one without RuPaul. It’s the first to be hosted by Michelle Visage. And in episode one, not one but two winning queens – Isis Avis Loren and Sasha Colby – joined the judging panel in a first.
And people are theorising that the premiere episode had another first: the first time a Drag Race queen has gotten on the beers in Untucked.
As the queens returned to the werkroom, there was a single beer among the colourful cocktail glasses on the table. Melbourne performer Lazy Susan was later seen drinking it.
A few people couldn’t help but notice the very Aussie detail, including an X post that Lazy Susan responded to.
“They had this cranberry vodka drink,” the drag queen wrote.
“I asked if I could get a beer instead and they decanted a VB!! It was a highlight.”
The queen also declared it was Untucked’s first beer, and after doing absolutely no research from past seasons, we’re going to agree.
OMG! Yesss. They had this cranberry vodka drink and I asked if I could get a beer instead and they decanted a VB!! It was a highlight
— Lazy Susan (@MsLazySusan) November 1, 2024
Can confirm. https://t.co/uIJ5vprcIG
— Lazy Susan (@MsLazySusan) November 2, 2024
Get that up ya pic.twitter.com/9NVltnbyD4
— Kiki (@Kikiquoii) November 1, 2024
Meanwhile, Plane Jane also entered the chat to point out that Lazy Susan is the “second queen with that name to appear on a Drag Race franchise”.
And the second queen with that name to appear on a Drag Race franchise! https://t.co/ukiTBxxBk9
— Plane Jane (@the_planejane) November 2, 2024
Plane Jane almost KILLED RuPaul with the drag name “Lazy Susan” #DragRace pic.twitter.com/cJDikygW0N
— (@dragraceher) March 30, 2024
Spoiler alert!
In Drag Race Down Under‘s season four premiere, Lazy Susan won the double runway challenge in episode one and is already a clear standout.
Lazy Susan is up against her Aussie sisters Mandy Moobs, Freya Armani, Brenda Bressed, Karna Ford, Max Drag Queen, Nikita Iman, Vybe and New Zealand queens Lucina Innocence and Olivia Dreams.
Here’s hoping the rest of this new season is as good as that premiere.
RuPaul’s Drag Race Down Under is streaming in Australia on Stan.
Lots more on Drag Race Down Under:
Join Art Simone for Kick Ons after Drag Race Down Under
Brisbane drag mother Mandy Moobs is on Drag Race Down Under
Behind the scenes of Down Under with Freya Armani
Drag Race Down Under unveils guest judges for season 4
Isis Avis Loren’s simple message to Drag Race Down Under critics
For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.
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amandi-mga2024mi5019 · 3 months ago
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Final Concepts
I reworked my overarching concept to cover butterflies, moths, beetles, and dragonflies (basically flying insects).
Blue hat - Paper cutout Animation
Title sequence - colourful cutout animation with layers of circles on top of one another, creating a tunnel of sorts. each of the circles will be moving in alternative directions and feature imagery of the bugs I will be focusing on. I want the movement to create a zoetrope-like effect. The animation will start with a zoom in into the 'tunnel' and then in the center the title will appear.
title - "Flying Insects"(?)
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Red hat - 2D (Digital/Traditional)
The scene will start out as a wide angle shot of a human skull. The camera starts to pan in and cuts to the left eye of the skull. Out of the skull comes a Red Admiral butterfly (a species used in Dutch still life paintings to represent the human soul) that takes off and flies upwards. This scene serves to visually represent the cultural symbolism of butterflies as emblems of the soul in the afterlife, and the notion of death as a transformative process akin to metamorphosis. This imagery of the butterfly flying upwards conveys the concept of death as an ascent to a higher plane.
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White Hat - After Effects 2D animation
As the White Hat solely deals with facts, research, and data, I wanted to showcase the large number and diversity of flying insects. The animation was to start with a close-up of a single bug. Then it pans out to show several bugs all moving around. A panel appears showing ‘1 million’ - the number of different species of flying insects.
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Yellow hat - Stop Motion
Insects as decomposers
Features a large dung beetle god. He is seen taking a clump of clay and shaping it into our planet. This is meant to represent how beetles are primary decomposers of the ecosystem, and as a result, they are what keep the planet alive and running. They are invaluable in transferring energy and providing new life for the planet to continuously grow and regrow.
The planet could start turning to mush every time it stops shaping it, and as a result the beetle god must keep shaping and reshaping the world anew. This signifies how insects break down dead matter and repurposes it into something new or as nutrients for living creatures.
Insects bring meaning to death; repurposes it back to grow new life. Its a transfer of energy (quite literally). Nothing truly dies, but is instead made anew. As a result, I thought it fitting to liken the dung beetle to a god of sorts - its' constant work decomposing matter brings meaning to both one's life and death, the same way a creation myth would.
In addition, dung beetles have been used in Ancient Egypt as representative of the afterlife and an explanation for the way the natural world works, which I think makes the imagery of the beetle being a 'god' even more fitting.
Visually, the beetle would actually be based off of a mixture of dung beetles, goliath beetles, and Hercules beetles.
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Black hat - (?)
Butterflies as pests/invasive species and a threat to some native flora
Shows a caterpillar enclosed in a circle, maybe chewing on a leaf. Behind it, we see thriving crops that wither and die.
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Green Hat - Claymation
Biomimicry
After receiving feedback from my tutors, I decided to use this concept for the green hat, as it provides an example of how insects have been used to solve real world human problems and drive innovation. The animation will focus on how dragonflies have been the source of inspiration for biomimicry that helped develop the helicopter.
Spilt layered claymation featuring a dragonfly on a water reed. In the background we see the calm shallow stream where it lives. Its wings start spinning like helicopter propellers and it takes off.
I want to experiment with using smear frames in clay-mation to create the swift motion of the 'propellor wings.' The sound design will be that of a helicopter taking off to further reiterate the use of dragonflies as biomimicry for helicopters.
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litcityblues · 8 months ago
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Stargate SG-1 (Season 6 and What Came Before)
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Okay, so Stargate SG-1 has been one of those shows that has floated in and out of my streaming cue for years now. I’ve never been able to get all the way through it– because there are ten seasons of the show, but last year (or possibly two years ago, COVID has ruined my sense of time) I decided that I was going to make a push to get all the way through it and this time, amazingly enough, I have, so far, gotten all the way to the end of Season 6.
This year (possibly) might be the year I get it done.
I've been trying to think about it: has there ever been a television show that has seamlessly picked up from the events of the movie that spawned as Stargate SG-1? For real, the pilot episode, Children of the Gods is brilliant television. When the Stargate (shuttered after the events of the movie) comes back to life and soldiers are kidnapped, they reactivate the team-- including O'Neal (Richard Dean Anderson) and Major Samantha Carter (Amanda Tapping) to go to Abydos and track down Daniel Jackson (Michael Shanks) to find out what the heck is going on.
Turns out, there's more than one Stargate- there's a whole network of them. And Ra? He was but one of many bad guys known as the Gouald, who are a worm-like race that require hosts for the symbiotes. They soon figure out where the soldiers are, go and get them back and pick up another new friend- a renegade Jaffa, Tealc (Christopher Judge) along the way and then, just like that, SG-1 is off and running.
This is from an era of television that I don't think is ever coming back again, so you have 22 episodes a season. That means, the team goes to an awful lot of planets that bear a passing resemblance to the area in and around Vancouver, British Columbia and they are inevitably confronted with some problem/monster of the week that they then solve and move onto the next mission. But SG-1, once it gets rolling starts mixing things up a bit.
In Season 2, we meet the Tok'ra. I love the Tok'ra. I love the way they are introduced. I love the idea of a secret, legendary band of renegade Gouald who are opposed to the System Lords and rely on voluntary hosts to keep their numbers up. We also meet the Asgard (who resemble the traditional 'Greys' that pop culture loves so much.) We start to see forces that oppose the Stargate program on Earth crop up--- ranging from Senator Kinsey to the NID to the Russians (a very late 90s aspect of this show.)
As you go further into the show, you see Earth start to adopt the technology they find to build hyperspace capable ships and get out into the galaxy a bit more.
Before we get into Season 6 specifically though: there has been talk of rebooting Stargate. Call it a reboot, revival, whatever they do with it-- there is one place that Stargate has not gone and it's the only thing that I can think of that will open up myriad new story possibilities for the franchise: disclosure.
They've tip-toed around it now again-- Eli in Stargate: Universe solves a video game puzzle they embedded into a video game and gets beamed up to a space ship and agrees to join the program. (Though it doesn't exactly work out well for him in the end.) But disclosure is the way to go. Seeing how society reacts. Seeing how civilians react. It's hard to believe, given how big the program is getting, that someone hasn't noticed by now, but maybe it's an open secret that hasn't been revealed to the public at large yet-- I don't know. But I think everything should flow from that as a starting point if you're going to reboot the series. Bonus Points if you manage to pull another Children of the Gods out of your hat and make the transition from the old show to the new one as seamless as they did between the movie and television.
ALL OF THAT BEING SAID, let's jam about Season 6:
So, by the time Season 6 rolls around, Daniel is gone. He's ascended to the next plane of existence and newcomer Jonas (Corin Nemec) has taken his place. The threat of Anubis is still growing- but has yet to reach it's peak. Stargate Atlantis hasn't started yet- but there are hints that it's coming-- we go back to the Antarctic sight in 'Frozen' and Daniel finds direct references to the City of the Ancients in 'Full Circle' at the end of the season, so they're definitely laying the groundwork for it.
There are some hints that Daniel isn't all the way gone either- he appears to Jack in 'Abyss' and provides comfort, though he is forbidden from doing anything. Tealc also sees him in 'The Changeling' where he's skipping through various realities and Daniel shows up. 'Full Circle' seems to be the first indication that Daniel is coming back in some form-- as he cuts a deal to try and save Abydos, which is sort of successful in that the inhabitants-- including Skaraa (Alexis Cruz), all ascend, but other than that, everything is destroyed and the season ends with Anubis getting his hands on an extremely powerful weapon setting up a big Season 7. (At least that's what I'm guessing.)
In terms of Earthbound shenanigans, we see some classified information management when a report finds out about the Stargate Program in 'Prometheus', Senator Kinsey gets shot and it seems like O'Neill is responsible in 'Smoke & Mirrors' and the Americans and Russians have to brief the rest of the world (China, France, Britain, etc.) in 'Disclosure.'
I am excited to keep moving with this show and to maybe, just maybe, get all the way through it at least once. I was a bit curious as to why Michael Shanks left for a season and could only find this as explanation, but I'm glad he's back and I hope Jonas gets to bow out with some dignity, since they had me worried in 'Prophecy' that they were going to straight up kill him off.
My Grade: I'm going to call this one a solid *** out of ****. I'm ready for Season 7 and for a show that has a few seasons under it's belt, Stargate SG-1 is ticking all the boxes with this season. 6 official down, 4 more to go!
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its-grape-juice-i-swear · 2 years ago
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If we were talking about Argentum then yea. Argentum was an "everything is robots" world. Argentum was a plane of mathematical perfection, populated entirely by ancient golems, built by Karn in his solitude as he grappled with the reality of being a tool built by Urza. When he left the plane in Memnarch's care, the plane's mana core became unstable, dividing from perfect colorless mana into the requisite five colors.
In it's prime, Mirrodin was bursting with life. Five distinct human cultures, vedalken, goblins, leonin, to name a few. Even the constructs are more than just mindless robots. Did you know that the Myr have their own creation myth? That's dope as fuck!
More to the point, and this sounds obvious but bear with me, Mirrodin is a plane made entirely of metal. Entirely. The trees of the Tangle? Towering spires of oxidized copper. The grass in the Razorgrass Fields is made of steel so sharp it can cut you as you walk. There are no crops; a solid metal floor can't be tilled, to say nothing of the near complete absence of water on Mirrodin. The plane contains no rivers, streams, lakes, or ponds. It's one sea, the Quicksilver Sea, is liquid mercury.
What we have here is a battle between two deserts. One dry, dusty, and certainly interesting, but Mirrodin? Karn's perfect world of mathematical perfection twisted into a vibrant iron ecosystem of tooth and nail survivors fighting for a strangely beautiful world where they shouldn't be and that shouldn't exist, but they must because it's theirs and it's the only one they have. That's fucking sweet.
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This is round 1 of Battle of the Planes. Other round 1 polls are up as well!
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hongism · 3 years ago
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04 - s.mingi + degradation (18+)
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» s.mingi x gn!reader » 18+ dni if minor » language, explicit smut, cock caging, degradation, praise, ruined orgasms, overstimulation, manual stimulation, anal fingering, use of sex toys/dildos, use of a riding crop, oral sex: m receiving (but not really), some impact play/cock slapping, use of gendered slurs (directed at mingi), dacryphilia, subspace, dominant reader, submissive mingi » wc 2.7k » link to masterlist
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today you have mingi on his knees, skin pressing into the pale carpet in a way that looks more comfortable than it really is. it’s deceptively innocent, even without an ounce of clothing on his body and feet tucked under his ass like he’s trying to seem smaller than he actually is. it won’t work in his favor; such behavior never does when he’s already gone this far. 
instead, it earns him a light smack over the top of his thigh with the riding crop in your hand, and the impact draws a whimper from his full lips seconds later. a slight bit of saliva trickles out the corner of his mouth, enough to catch on his chin and stop there before falling further. the visual is intoxicating in a lot of ways, things you don’t like to admit outside the bedroom out of fear of ruining the pretty, picture-perfect innocence you seem to bear there. some part of your brain does wonder what those people would think seeing you dominate mingi in this way when they always assume him to hold that position in your relationship.
on his knees, drooling and whimpering with a solid metal cage around his big useless cock, and you over him with a smile on your lips.
it’s intoxicating.
“you enjoy this, don’t you?” you inquire. the edge to your tone feigns true curiosity but your gaze says otherwise, something borderline sadistic to the way you look down at the man on his knees. “must be so hard having such a nice big cock only to have it locked up right now.”
the riding crop pushes under his chin. you raise his head to look more clearly at his face slowly, admiring the glisten on his brow and in his eyes. something twists in your brain. 
you want to see him cry.
“i asked you a question, baby boy.” 
mingi’s thighs twitch at that nickname, a blatant cue to how much he enjoys it, and his watery gaze flits up to look you in the eye.
“there’s my pretty baby, looking all good and needy for me,” you coo. there’s a faux innocence in your words, lacing some easy praise in to heighten the blow you’re about to deliver. “what a pathetic slut.”
if he could crumple to the floor, you don’t doubt that he would do so now, but he has enough sense to stay put despite how the words send a shudder through his spine. he tucks his hands further under his legs, pressing between where his calves and thighs squeeze together and make his skin splay like the perfect canvas for you to paint on. the red streaks across his pale skin, the sheen of sweat over them, and the way his muscles tremble from the effort of keeping still — he’s a masterpiece, one of your own creation, and you don’t plan on letting anyone else see him.
for now, though, you wish for those crystalline tears to fall, you want to see spit smeared over his neck and chest, and you want to hear him gag prettily for you. 
“what do you want, baby?” you take a moment to squat down to his height, head tilting to the side as you look him in the eye. “want me to touch you?”
mingi offers his first weak nod of the night as his cheeks flush a pretty red and he ducks his chin to the side. 
“good boy.” perhaps it’s a bit too cruel, the way you lower the riding crop further and slip the tip between the small gap in his cock cage. the leather digs into his dick, teasing his slit enough to make mingi writhe under your touch. he’s still good though — still stays put and doesn’t try bringing his hands out from where they’re losing feeling between his legs. it’s going to result in his first ruined orgasm, and you count the seconds in your head before he cries out and a weak trail of cum spills through the slit of metal encasing. “must be hard having to cum like that, baby. can’t even put your big dick to good use, huh?”
“n-no,” mingi whimpers as you pull the riding crop back and hold it to his face.
“clean it for me.”
his tongue slips out like he’s putting it on display. you give him a sweet smile that’s deceptively innocent again. the first slap of the leather on his tongue is a shock to him. it’s almost enough for him to lose his position and grab for his crotch, and you’re nearly tempted to take the cage off for him so he can cum properly. he has to earn that right though. you only give him two more sharp hits to the tongue before turning away and stepping over to the edge of the bed. mingi pants behind you, almost dog-like in how hard he’s breathing.
“need a break, princess? what’s your color?”
“green…. ‘m okay, ‘m okay, p-promise,” mingi huffs out in response, lifting his gaze to you as you look back at him over your shoulder. 
“my pretty baby, you’re so good for me,” you singsong back through a tight-lipped grin. “made to be my perfect little toy… made for me, yeah?”
“y-yes.” 
you exhale a breathy laugh despite his affirmation not being funny in the slightest.
“you aren’t being so chatty tonight, love, are you sure you want me that badly?”
“i do!” mingi almost stumbles over his words in the rush he makes to affirm them, and another laugh slips free, one that comes from your chest with more force. “i do, please, i want you.”
“please?” you echo, arching a brow at the collection of toys before you. you settle on one in particular and pick it up with delicate fingers and a smirk. 
“please, please, i’ll beg, i’ve been good. i’m still in position! i’m being so good for you, y/n, i really am, right?”
“you are…” you turn back towards mingi, letting a genuine smile of adoration come over your lips. “you’re being my perfect little princess, baby. the perfect toy for me. you’re always so good, aren’t you?”
mingi nods like a man possessed, motions erratic in his rush to affirm your words. you press the head of the dildo in your hand further into your palm. 
“do you wish this were you?” the stroke you give to the shaft is long and obnoxious, emphasizing the twist of your wrist and how you squeeze the base lightly. mingi goes dumb for a moment; his gaze flits over the silicone then up to your face then back down to your hand that repeats the rhythmic motions. “can’t even use your stupid cock to please me right now, but that’s okay, right? you can get off if i fuck myself with this in front of you, no?”
the whimper that leaves mingi is borderline pathetic.
“don’t worry, my love. i won’t do that to you. you’ve been so good for me tonight… there’s no need for punishment, okay?”
“promise?” he asks, lashes growing wetter by the second. your gut twists and turns, the desire to see those tears fall over the balls of his cheeks rising up only for you to squash it a second later.
“promise, baby boy.” you step closer to him again, and rather than kneeling down to his height, you merely stop before him and lower the flesh-toned dildo to his lips. “won’t you be a good cockslut and suck for me?”
it’s a lewd mimicry of an actual blowjob — the visual of him taking the dildo that’s settled in your palm right beside your hip almost makes it look real. his lips stretch around the girth, the size of it almost akin to how his own erection would look if not for the metal keeping him locked up right now. there’s a certain haziness to the way mingi blinks up at you, the motions slower than normal like he’s thinking too hard about it or approaching a different mindset that will leave him needy and clingy for hours to come. not that you mind — taking care of him afterward is almost as good as taking care of him during, and you’d rather die than be a bad dom for him. 
you push the dildo to the back of his mouth, hitting his throat in one easy thrust, and the tears overflow. they stream over his skin with ease, and you see his shoulders begin to cave in a bit with each passing second. his hips jut in little staggered motions that betray his intentions, but you simply let him strive for a friction that will never really come. not the way he wants at least. 
he’s drooling around the cock between his lips and wetting it more and more with each thrust. you can't resist the urge to take your free hand to his chin, catching a dribble of saliva and smearing down towards his chest. you cross the planes of his flat chest with a wet path in your wake before reaching one of his budded nipples. just brushing over it with the slightest amount of pressure has him groaning out a low moan. like music to your ears, he repeats the sound when you tweak his nipple a little harder. 
“you can cum, baby boy. think your pathetic cock can squirt for me?” you pull the dildo from his mouth to let him speak, obviously waiting for an answer with the way you dangle the fake cock just out of his reach. his voice comes out gravelly and low when he manages to squeak out a response. 
“good whores can.”
“is that what you are, my love?”
“please,” he whispers, an edge of desperation to his tone, and you can’t deny him what he wants.
“yes, my baby, you’re a good whore for me. all mine.” you nudge the dildo back to his waiting mouth, putting more pressure into your push this time around. mingi takes it almost greedily like it can’t get in his throat fast enough, and he all but leans into it seconds later. you squat down to his level, at last, keeping one arm up to thrust the silicone between his plump lips that have long since swollen up from the overuse. you don’t have your key on hand — it’s over on the bed along with your other supplies — but you won’t be needing it quite yet, reaching down to grip the little bit of his shaft that isn’t trapped within the metal cage. 
mingi gags around the dildo once more, but this time you aren’t nearly as deep in his throat, so you withdraw the toy to let him choke out a few words. 
“c-can you finger me? please?” 
your mind goes blank for half a second, hand reaching up to sweep away some of the leftover tears on his cheeks before you recover and remember your place in the scene. 
“mm, keep sucking.” you push the dildo down to the floor then go to pull mingi’s hands out from under his thighs. the freedom has him flexing his probably numb fingers as best he can, but he doesn’t waste any time in sitting up on his knees and bending in half to reach the fake cock once more. you get to your feet, eyes taking in the pretty expanse of his back and ass, the red marks on his hamstrings that indicate how much pressure he was putting on his hands. even as you retrieve the lube from the bed, mingi doesn’t budge and continues to follow your gentle orders without complaint.
you announce your arrival behind him with a sharp backhand slap to one side of his ass, delighting in the way he jolts and clenches around nothing. his noises are muffled by the dildo, but still music to your ears as always. his cock dangles uselessly between his legs, and the metal encasing jingles with his sporadic movements. 
your first finger is cold when it slips into the heat of mingi’s ass, no effort put into trying to warm up the lube when you know how much mingi enjoys that first chill a little more every time. your fingers aren’t nearly as long as mingi’s so the effort that goes into searching for his sweet spot is far greater than it would be the other way around. he seems to content to wait, dick still dribbling strings of translucent cum like he never stopped cumming in the first place. you know by now he’s surely bordering the brink of overstimulation, the limit where it starts to become too much, but he keeps whining each time you threaten to pull your fingers out of him.
“one more, baby boy, then we’ll be done for the night and get you cleaned up,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him at this point because of how far gone he is. it’s endearing in a way, at least in your eyes it is, and it turns intoxicating once more with the first brush of your fingers over his prostate. 
“hngh, o-oh… y/n, ah, i’ll cum early!” his mouth pops off the dildo to spew the words, and spit pools on the wood floor with his motions. 
“the sooner you finish, the sooner we can get you in the bath, love.” you dig your fingers as deep as they can go, crooking them midway to repeat the same brush over his sweet spot. it garners you the reaction you were after — mingi cries out louder than he has so far in this session, legs going weak as he threatens to topple over. you grab for his hip with your free hand and try your best to steady his big body before he fully falls. all his cock can do at this point is give a few more weak spurts of the same translucent cum that pools on the floor between his legs. “good job, baby, look at you. you did so well for me.”
“y/n, i-i, fuck, i—”
“shh, baby, you’re okay, i’ve got you, okay?” you turn him to the side as gently as you can, trying to avoid any of the bodily fluids that are now spread over the wood, and help him lay flat against the floor on his back. you won’t make him stay there long, only enough for him to catch his breath and get some feeling back in his legs. you’ll get the key to his cage later too; you can’t risk leaving him right as he’s coming down from an orgasm even if it’s just a few feet away. so you drag yourself up his lanky body and settle over his waist with hands planted on his shoulders and a smile on your lips. “you with me still?”
“y-yeah,” he pants, eyes squeezed shut so tightly that there are wrinkles around his temples. you shift your hands up to brush over those spots, and the man under you relaxes into the touch. 
it’s a slow process, bringing him down from the intensity of the orgasm and overstimulation, but it’s comfortable as well if you ignore the sweat sticking to your bodies. 
“mm, okay, ‘m back, i’m back. fuckin’ drowsy as hell,” he murmurs some time later. the way his words slur is indication enough of his exhaustion, but you aren’t about to let him pass out on the floor like this.
“okay, big boy, up we go then. let’s take a bath and let me get everything cleaned up then you can pass out.” you move to climb off mingi and get to work, but he catches hold of your waist and tugs you back down to his face momentarily.
“love you, baby.”
you smile into his lips, pressing a chaste kiss there.
“i love you too.”
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racinggirl · 3 years ago
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The Kiss - LN4
(requested by anonymous)
Here’s why you don’t let two guys take care of your laundry, especially two very messy guys. ‘’Are you serious?’’ You rose your right eyebrow, holding your shirt in front of you, it clearly having turned into a cropped top by now. You were standing in front of the mirror and let out a deep sigh, deciding to confront the two guys for ruining your favourite shirt.
You knew the two guys were about to end their stream, so you decided to sit down on the couch in the living room, your shirt in front of you on the table. After watching their stream on Twitch, you saw them saying bye to chat and you prepared yourself to give the guys a speech.
You were visiting your friends, since you were in England for a few days, Max and Lando offering you to stay over at their place so you wouldn’t have to book a hotel. You gladly accepted, not turning the offer down. However, the moment you walked out of the plane, someone had bumped into you, spilling their drink on your shirt so the boys told you to throw it in the washing machine at their place since they still had to do some laundry as well. A big mistake…
‘’Do either of you read the labels of clothing you usually never wash?’’ You held your shirt up, standing up from the couch as well, watching as Max and Lando looked at each other before meeting your gaze again. ‘’Max did the laundry this time!’’ Lando defended himself as he looked at your shirt, his hands up in the air as if he was surrendering.
Your gaze went to Max, rolling your eyes as he was holding back his laughter, hitting Lando’s shoulder as a sign to help him out. ‘’I’m sure you’d look great in a cropped top as well.’’ You couldn’t help but have mixed feelings when Lando made that comment, feeling bad because your favourite shirt had just been ruined, but also feeling flattered by the comment he just made.
It was probably not the best scenario, but the moment you joined Max’ friend group you met Lando, and he turned your thoughts around. You were never a believer of love at first sight until you met him. You knew who he was, occasionally watching Formula One with Max as he was one of your childhood friends. However, you never thought you’d actually develop feelings for the McLaren driver.
Your friendship grew over time, a few holidays, parties and occasionally a race weekend with Max included Lando being there as well, but you didn’t mind. You had feelings for him after knowing him for over 2 years now, but never had the guts to actually tell him about them.
He would often drop comments like he did earlier, saying you looked good, complimenting your appearance or even your actions. Calling you sweet, caring, strong, and you appreciated it every time.
‘’Very funny Norris, but it was my favourite shirt.’’ You pouted, pushing your bottom lip outwards as you rose your eyebrows, looking directly into his eyes. ‘’I’ll get you a new one, I promise.’’ Max walked over towards you, taking your shirt in his hands. ‘’But Lando’s right, you would look good in it.’’
-
A few weeks later you found yourself sitting in Monaco, Lando invited you over to hang out with him and your friends, including Max. Just some streaming, golfing, chilling as well, just like you used to do when you were England. You were the first one to arrive, having an early flight since all the others were either way too overpriced, or extremely late in the evening.
‘’Hey, you came.’’ You smiled at the Brit, who just opened his apartment door for you to step inside. ‘’Of course, wouldn’t want to miss it.’’ You hugged him, a smile on your lips as you felt his strong arms wrapping around your body. You wanted to stay in this position longer, but you didn’t want to make it awkward so after a while you decided to pull away from the hug.
‘’Thanks, where’s everybody else?’’ You took the drink from Lando’s hand, taking a sip before putting it down on the table. ‘’They are arriving tomorrow, Max missed his flight.’’ You couldn’t help but laugh, not even being surprised by the fact Max had missed it. ‘’I’m not surprised.’’ You laughed, watching as Lando sat down on the couch next to you.
You talked for a while, bringing up memories, talking about your studies as well as his upcoming season. You kept getting distracted, never really having the opportunity to be with Lando for an entire day. Sure, you and him talked before, spending some time alone, but not an entire day, having both lunch and dinner with the two of you.
You were thinking for a while now, contemplating whether or not this would be the perfect timing to tell him about your feelings, since you were alone anyways. ‘’Y/N, you alright?’’ Lando’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, making you look up from your lap to meet his gaze.
‘’Yeah, yeah I’m alright.’’ You shot him a smile as your bottom lip got caught in between your teeth, your gaze lowering to your lap once again. So many thoughts were running through your mind, unsure of which one would be helping you, and which one would mess everything up.
‘’Are you sure? You look like you’re overthinking, a lot.’’ The calmness in his voice, the soft smile on his lips yet the worried look on his face made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, some of them exploding as you were met by his eyes, who were looking at you, and nobody else.
You took a deep breath, your hands traveling to your legs to wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your jeans, a sigh escaping your lips. ‘’Y/N?’’ Lando got up, moving over to the couch you were sitting on as he placed his drink on the table, a hand resting on your shoulder which made the situation even worse.
You couldn’t look at him, because you knew that if you did, you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself, you would kiss him, even though it would probably be the worst thing to do. But the moment he called your name again, his hand slowly reaching for yours, was the moment you looked up, your faces inches apart. Everything felt like a slow motion movie, your tongue licking your lips as you looked down at his soft, pink, lips, he doing the same thing. The next thing you knew, your lips were glued to his, enjoying the touch of those perfect lips.
‘’I like you, and I know it’s wrong because you’re my friend, but I have liked you for quite a while and I just didn’t want to, I mean, I just thought it would be, ehm, like, ehm.’’ You weren’t sure of what to say once you had broken the kiss, so you just rambled, hoping he’d break the awkward silence that appeared once you stopped talking. But he didn’t, he stayed silent, probably not sure of what to say either because lets be honest, you probably overwhelmed him, seeing as you yourself were overwhelmed as well.
-
Weeks had passed, and Lando and you weren’t like you used to be anymore. You had blamed yourself multiple times, but never told anyone about it. You didn’t want people to know he rejected you, as well as trying to deal with the fact he basically pretended like that kiss never happened, the words that came out of your mouth that evening almost disappearing in thin air for him.
You were avoiding him, whenever Max asked you to hang out with the group, you made up excuses, saying you had to study, work, hang out with other friends, but in reality you were just sitting in your hotel room, going over that scenario in Monaco multiple times in your head.
You shouldn’t have kissed him, if you wouldn’t have done that, things would be alright, there wouldn’t be this distance between the two of you and you could have just moved on with your life. But no, you thought kissing him would create this magical moment you see in movies, both admitting your feelings for each other, having a happy ending. But not all stories have a happy ending.
‘’Come on Y/N, you never hang out with us anymore, it will be fun!’’ Max was standing in your hotel room, ready to drag you to the club your group of friends would go to. ‘’No, Max, really, I’m not in the mood, I’m tired.’’ The look on his face was breaking your heart. You have been cancelling your plans with your friends almost every week, just to avoid Lando, and you knew Max didn’t deserve it, but it was part of your cooping mechanism now. You didn’t want to see Lando, especially not after not seeing him for weeks.
‘’Y/N…’’ Max was looking at you with puppy eyes, a sad look on his face. ‘’You’ve denied my offer to stay at Lando’s place for the weeks you’re here, please accept my offer to come party with us.’’
‘’Okay, fine…’’
So you went, putting on your tight black jeans, pairing it with your white and orange sneakers, a bright orange cropped top and your favourite jewellery. Max’ smile couldn’t have been wider when he saw you in your outfit, wearing the necklace he gave you a few months ago for your birthday. ‘’Let’s go pretty.’’
-
You knew it was a bad decision to go, not feeling confident about actually seeing Lando again, and your mood got even worse the moment you saw him, dancing with girls, having the time of his life as he finally was able to enjoy some alcoholic beverages due to his winter break.
You decided to ignore him, focussing on other guys, everyone but him. ‘’Y/N, here, have a drink.’’ Max was at your side almost the entire evening, cheering you up, dragging you to the dancefloor and making sure you were having a great time.
And you did, you noticed Lando talking to some girls, but instead of getting jealous or upset, you walked away looking for other people you were having fun with. After a while, you decided to head home, seeing as you didn’t want to be hungover tomorrow, or sleep till 2 pm, wanting to still be somewhat productive on your day off.
‘’Let me take you back to the hotel, Y/N, what if something happens to you?’’ You couldn’t help but smile at how adorable Max was being, a true friend. ‘’I’ll be fine, Max, I am still sober, plus it’s just a 10 minute walk to my hotel. I think that muppet over there needs your help getting home.’’ You smiled, pointing over towards Lando who was sitting on the couch, checking his phone as multiple girls were trying to get his attention.
You bit your lip, the sight of him, basically rejecting those girls just like he did with you made you feel better about yourself, even though it might sound cruel, you were glad no other girls would get his attention.
-
Once you were back at your hotel, you took off your jewellery, placing it on the table next to your bed. Your feet freed themselves from your shoes as you replaced your outfit for your sleeping shirt. In the bathroom, you wiped the make up off your face, throwing the cotton pads in the bin as your phone started to ring.
‘’Max? Everything good?’’ ‘’No, I mean, yes but, I can’t find Lando.’’ You furrowed your eyebrows, your heart beating quicker the moment you noticed the panic in his voice. ‘’Calm down Max, he wasn’t that drunk, was he?’’ You heard silence on the other side of the phone, followed by some voices, as well as Max back on the phone. ‘’No, he wasn’t. Oh, I’ve found Tom, hold up!’’
It was silent for almost an entire minute before you heard some fumbling around. ‘’He’s on his way home. Tom said he was tired, anyways, are you home? You are, right? Or at least, not home, but at your hotel, right?’’ You let out a laugh, shaking your head when you listened to your friend. ‘’Yeah Max, I’m safe in the hotel. Get home safe, okay?’’ You heard a distant ‘Will do muppet!’ before the connection broke. You just laughed at Max’ drunk state, the concern, yet the apathy, the chaos, but also his ability to call you, making sure you were home safe.
You were about to turn off the lights when you heard a knock on your hotel room door, your head snapping towards the door, checking the time on your phone before making your way towards the door. Instead of opening it straight away, you looked through the hole, which you could look through, thanking the hotel for not making the holes all the way up to the ceiling.
‘’Lando?’’ You furrowed your eyebrows as you took a step aside, letting the curly haired boy walk into your room without you even allowing him or giving him the permission to do so. ‘’Ehm, excuse me?’’ You closed the door behind you, eyeing the McLaren driver up and down.
‘’I’m sorry.’’ Were the first words that left his mouth, his eyes never leaving your face as you stood there, stunned by what just happened. You just rose your eyebrow, inviting him to continue speaking since you had a feeling of the direction of this conversation.
‘’I’m sorry I ignored you after what happened in Monaco.’’
‘’Lando…’’ You didn’t want to bring this up, you got over it, accepted the fact he wasn’t into you.
‘’No, Y/N, I’ve been a bad friend, a horrible friend, I kissed you back when you kissed me but I just pretended it didn’t happen.’’ He ran a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips as he looked into your eyes.
‘’I don’t want to talk about it Lando, it has happened, you made it clear that you aren’t interested in me.’’
‘’We must talk about it Y/N, you need to let me explain myse-‘’ You cut him off.
‘’Explain yourself? Lando, you had two whole months to explain yourself. I got over it, I moved on, finally accepting the fact you weren’t into me and now you want to explain yourself?’’ You crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at him with disbelief.
‘’You don’t understand, it’s a lot more complicated than what it seems.’’ ‘’No, it isn’t. You hurt my feelings. I understand the fact you aren’t into me, things like that happen, but we’re still friends. You could have at least said something about it to me.’’
‘’I am doing now, aren’t I?’’ You groaned at his comment, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. ‘’Yeah, Lando, after two fucking months. Could have done that sooner, don’t you think?’’
‘’No! I couldn’t have, and if you’d let me finish you’d know why!’’ ‘’Well, it better be a hell of a good reason then.’’ You sighed, watching as Lando stepped closer to you, the distance between the two of you being brought back down to a few inches.
‘’Tell me Norris, what has been so important or complicated you couldn’t talk to me about that kiss?’’ You almost whispered, feeling your heartbeat rise as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
‘’Because I actually do like you, Y/N.’’ He started, his eyes following the movements of his hand as it was going down to take a hold of yours. ‘’Wha-‘’ ‘’But so does Max.’’ You furrowed your eyebrows, a deep frown on your face as you felt Lando’s breath on your face since he let out a deep sigh.
Thing is, Max likes you, he has been for quite a while now, and the only person that knew was Lando, since he is his best friend. You never noticed, and looking back at it now, it made sense. The necklace he gave you, it was a small gold necklace with a star hanger, the cute nicknames, the fact he always called to make sure you were home safe, taking care of you whenever you weren’t feeling too great.
‘’The moment you kissed me I started to think, and I quickly realized I liked you, a lot. That’s why I kissed back, I never, ever regret kissing you back Y/N.’’ You connected the dots, realizing the only reason Lando never spoke to you about it was because of Max. ‘’And you didn’t want to hurt your best friend.’’ You whispered, making Lando nod in response.
‘’Then, why are you here now?’’ You carefully asked the question you needed to know the answer to. Why was he here, what made him change his mind. Did he talk to Max? What was the reason for his sudden confession.
‘’Because seeing you there, tonight, having fun, but ignoring or avoiding me, was killing me.’’ He moved his hand up, his thumb moving over your bottom lip which was caught in between your teeth. ‘’Don’t do that.’’ He whispered, resting his index finger under your chin to make you look at him.
‘’I want to kiss you…’’ ‘’But we can’t hurt Max.’’ You saw how he nodded, yet his eyes never left your lips. ‘’Lando…’’ Now he was the one biting his lip, trying to restrain himself, holding himself back from smashing his lips onto yours.
‘’We’ll talk to him, tomorrow.’’ And with those words he smashed his lips against yours, closing every single inch of space between the two of you. The rest of the evening was magical, Lando making you forget about the pesky conversation with Max you should have the next day.
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teddybasmanov · 2 years ago
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Only As Good As My God
Pairing: Regulus/Charge.
TW: mentions of human sacrifice, mild hurt/comfort, mild yandere behaviour from Regulus (but the listener is consenting).
Notes: fully stolen from based on @cottagecorexboy idea - this post in particular.
Word count: about 1100.
Regulus hadn’t been called upon for a very long time. And he was more than okay with it. Humans have forgotten about him and he left them, idly observing nature and arts, not paying much attention to the people around it. He hadn’t been called upon for a very long time until now. A voice is calling out to him. A voice so melodic, so musical, so sweet and enthralling, so angelic. So perfect.
The angelic voice is swearing like a sailor. For a bit Regulus is so surprised that he just listens, after a while through the stream of obscenities he starts distinguishing, that the owner of the canorous voice is very displeased with their current position and the situation they find themselves in and are wishing everyone who have put them it to commit unnatural acts with themselves and their relatives. Regulus doesn’t understand who and why would make the owner of the songful voice and such broad vocabulary so unhappy, so he decides to descend and see for himself. And just in time it seems.
He appears in one of his old temples – just a big natural cave, really - to see a group of people circle around the carved altar, low chanting a hymn he has long forgotten, while another man, standing right beside the stone lump is upraising a knife above his head about to plunge it into… Them. A human, who is tied to the altar, going beyond Regulus’ imagination – he never though the mortal plane can produce something that beautiful, that gorgeous, that alluring, that delightful, that magnificent. That perfect. With a wave of his hand, he makes all the humans aside from them freeze as they stay. Regulus sits on the edge of the stone lowering himself to the human, who hasn’t yet understood what happened, and gently cups their cheek. Their thoughts – that’s what he was hearing all that time – immediately stop. Their tensed facial expression smooths out as their eyes run around the room, trying to see what’s touching them.
“Shh, you’re alright, you’re okay, I’m not here to hurt you,” he can’t talk to them directly or show himself, but he can talk in their mind and with a single thought he can snap the ropes holding them in place.
“I know you! I saw… felt you in my dreams! And by the river!” they lift themselves on their elbows but don’t make any attempt to move away. He likes it. And now thinking about it – they’re right, he had felt them too, but under the veil of dreaming he never thought they were real. Never thought they could be real and yet they are right in front of him now. Without much thought he puts his other hand to their waist and, not feeling any resistance on their side, he moves them both to his favourite spot in the forest.
The human takes a shaky breath, looking around a small secluded clearing, and to Regulus’ pleasant surprise relaxes more.
“Who are you, exactly?” they ask much calmer in their mind.
“Your Regulus.”
“So, I guess that means you've claimed your sacrifice.”
Sacrifice? In hindsight that made sense… “But I never asked for sacrifices! The altar can be painted with any liquid and the person at it is the messenger, not there for the immolation. Humans are so cruel and uncaring; their first impulse is always to hurt!” he gets close to their face, gently enveloping their neck with his palms, “I’ll never let them hurt you! I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”
They stare into space, where he is, and don’t move, their thoughts become jumbled and run too fast, but he can understand that they are surprised and happy and in disbelief.
“They were desperate,” the human finally explains, “The crops are sick, hunger is coming, they are willing to try anything. Please don’t hurt them,” they must have heard the anger in his voice.
“So kind, even to those who don’t deserve it,” he moves his hand to stroke their hair, “I won’t, I wouldn’t want to upset you”.
“Maybe you can actually help them?” he hears such hope in their inner voice.
“I will. Eventually. I want to help you first,” one more gentle stroke and their hair and body are clean from the dust and grease. He takes another look at them and realises he doesn’t really know much about human clothing anymore, so he just turns their ragged sackcloth tunic into the same one, but intact, soft and silky, “There, there, you need rest,” he can feel nervous exhaustion starting to caught up to them, “It’s okay, you can sleep, nobody can hurt you here, I’ll be with you, I won’t take a single step away,” he lets them lie down in the grass, simultaneously making it soft and warm, gathering the fir branches above them to form a roof and not let any wind bother them. Their head rests on his lap and even without seeing him they trustfully nuzzle into Regulus' hip. He keeps stroking their hair, until he’s sure they’re soundly asleep. Their thoughts become disconnected and scattered, but he’s glad to find them remaining generally peaceful. He would like to keep it that way.
Now he needs to remember what humans need to live. A house. A bed inside of it. Food, clothing, bath. While his thoughts run, he gets to work, without moving a muscle, so that when the human wakes up they have somewhere to live. As he promised he’s not letting them go now. Ever.
The legend told that a witch lived in the forest. Or a spirit. Or a deity. Or a combination of. Anyway, what was sure is that a big part of the forest was enchanted – no humans could enter it, but someone clearly lived there. Some said that they saw a person with an otherworldly expression, snow white clothing and shining golden jewellery on the edges of the magical barrier sometimes. Others whispered that this person can talk to animals – deer walk beside them with no fear, birds and squirrels fawn upon their shoulders. Some swore that water, wind and trees listen to them as well – moving to their silent wishes, letting them pass, covering them and even entertaining them. A few even said that they heard the rustle of wind in the leaves sing them serenades and whisper them endearments, but that must be a complete fairytale.
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magalidragon · 3 years ago
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paris is always a good idea | a Jonerys Drabble
Thank you @youwerenevermine​ for my wonderful birthday gift, I love it so much and I love Paris so much and Jonerys and you for making this for me so I felt inspired and wrote a quick little drabble thing, lol. It’s only the fourth time I’ve written Jonerys in a modern, non-Westeros world, but it was fun!  And I wanna’ go back so much!  Paris, je t’aime!
They met while in university, oddly enough, as fate would have it, on her birthday.
She had been there to study art, for a year abroad, savoring every last second wandering the wide, arched hallways of the Louvre, staring at grand masters for hours on end, burning the vibrant colors and mesmerizing brushstrokes into her memory, wishing she could be as good as them one day.  One day, someone would have her art in their house, and proudly boast they'd gotten it back when she was but a nobody, painting on the streets or in the grassy parks.  
Since it was her birthday, she decided to treat herself, and instead of heading straight to the university to get some time in the studio, she decided to get an ice cream at Berthillon, heading to the Ile-St-Louis instead of to the metro, taking her time to admire, as she often did, the glory of Notre Dame, it’s gargoyles and buttresses.
At the glacier she took her time selecting a flavor, did not even mind paying the exorbitant price and shouldered through tourists taking refuge from a cold rain that had begun to fall. She savored it, the clean water bouncing off her peat coat and the beanie she’d tugged over her silver hair.
She was about to set off, to eat her ice cream and wander into the Marais, perhaps drop down into the Latin Quarter— maybe take a trip to Chanel or Dior or Celine to admire the creations she couldn’t afford— when her ice cream went flying, straight onto the wet sidewalk. Where a mass of pidgins attacked it with gusto.
“Merde! Faites attention!” she shouted, stomping her Doc Marten on the ground in petulant annoyance.
The man who had bumped her because he’d been roughhousing with another friend had been apologetic.  He bought her another and said his name was Robb Stark. He was from Scotland, was on spring break with his buddies, which she didn’t care about. To apologize he invited her for a drink, especially when the worker who she’d told it was her birthday had commented on it again when she got another ice cream.
She figured why not?  He was attractive, sorry, and nice enough so she agreed, although she had commented his French was terrible best to speak English. “You’re English?” he had teased.
“Half and half,” she answered. English father, French mother.
At the comptoir where she suggested they meet, in Montmartre, she brought her roommate Missandei and Missandei’s boyfriend Grey. It was just a drink and they’d leave and go to the dinner Missandei planned to take her to anyway.
Except that’s where she met him.
The dark, brooding figure at the tiny table in the corner, ignoring Robb and Robb’s friend Theon, and a couple others, favoring silence and his drink. He was in all black, barely acknowledging her and slipped out for a smoke when Robb began to shamelessly flirt. She didn’t care about Robb, she cared about him.
Jon.
She exited, saw him lighting a cigarette against a lap post. She flicked her coat collar up and sidled towards him. “Puis-j’en avoir un?”
“Sorry I don’t speak,” he began, and his eyes— black in the orange lamplight glow— flicking to her. He smiled gently “French.”
She smiled and repeated her question in English.  “Can I have one?  A smoke  that is?”
He stuck the cigarette between his pouty, sinful lips, framed with a cropped dark beard, and reached into his coat pocket, removing a pack. She took one delicately and he lit it, cupping his hands around the tip so the wind didn’t blow it out.
A stream of smoke escaped her nostrils when she puffed and she smiled up at him, hoping he got the hint. “Do you like Paris?”
“Not especially.”
“Aw come on,” she teased. She hummed, closing her eyes and taking in the cold night. The electric buzz is people on the street and at the cafes and bars around them. “Paris is always a good idea.”
“Someone famous said that.”
“Audrey Hepburn.”
He sucked on the cigarette and smiled, a tiny one, the curve of his lip sly rather than shy.  “You aren’t in there with the rest of them.”
“Because it’s my birthday and I want to do what I want to do.”  She stubbed the cigarette out on the post and turned, disposing it in the bin by the door.  A quick text to Missandei: I’m going to skip dinner, I think I have a date, she turned and studied him.  “I’m…”
“Dany,” he said. He shrugged, finishing his smoke. “I remember.”  
Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you were listening when Robb introduced me.”
���I was.”  He pulled the tartan scarf around his neck tighter.  He glanced towards Sacré-Cœur, illuminated white in the lights around its base. He smirked at her.  “You going back in?”
She shook her head. “No,” she drawled. She followed his gaze to Sacré-Cœur. “Have you been up there?”
“No.”
“You should. Some of the best views of Paris.”
He chuckled, voice tight. “You should invite Robb.”
“I think he might be a third wheel.”
It took him a second, the gears in his mind turning, understanding what she was saying. He cocked his head. His black curls were in a mess around his face. A few scattered rain drops landed on them, and he shook it free like a dog. Or a wolf, she thought, noting the animal embroidered on the edge of his scarf.
He narrowed his eyes again. “I told you I don’t really like Paris.”
“Why?”
“It’s loud. Busy. Dirty.”
She laughed. “Every city is like that but in Paris it’s different.”
“Why?”
Her bravado got the better of her and she stepped towards him, linking her arm through his. If he didn’t get it now, he was a stupid fool who deserved it when she kicked him into the gutter. “Because,” she murmured, rising to her toes, trying to gaze as directly as she could into his eyes, which she now saw were actually gray. His breathing quickened. “You’re with me.”
The wolf got the point with that comment. He allowed her to keep her arm around his and lead him towards the cathedral.  They spoke of nothing and anything on the long walk through Montmartre to the highest point in the city.  
He was in Paris for a research trip.  He was studying medieval weapons and was going out to Bayeux to study some relics. His cousin Robb and friends came along for the free trip.  They spoke about being starving artists in their field-- her literally an artist as it were.  They talked about Paris-- how much he disliked it, how much she adored it.  The top of Sacre-Coeur might have changed his mind, but he pretended he still didn’t get the appeal, so she dragged him back down to the streets, to her favorite all-night boulangerie, into the metro and across town to the Eiffel Tower, spinning in circles on the Champs du Mars.  They ran across the Pont-de-la-Concorde and across the Tullieries.  They wandered down the Seine, smoked cigarettes in the doorsteps of old buildings in the Latin Quarter, and drank cheap wine in one of the tourist-cafes near the Jardin du Luxembourg.  
They meandered back through the streets, the city oddly quiet, the rain stopping, and she brought him to her garret studio in the Bastille, up the six flights of stairs to the top of the building, where she shed her coat and boots adn scratched her fat cat Drogon’s ears, leading him to the wrought-iron bars in one of the four windows she had, pushing the window open and crawling out, up onto the roof where she wanted to show him something.  
“Look,” she directed, when he climbed up next to her-- less gracefully-- pointing to the lit-up Eiffel Tower.  
He cursed under his breath.  “It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s my favorite place in Paris.  The rent is steep, but it’s worth it for this.”  She chuckled.  “And it has the best view.”
He whispered.  “Yes, it does.”  
And to her surprise, since she didn’t realize the time, the tower began to twinkle, the 20,000 lights across its metal beams flickering and she glanced sideways; he wasn’t watching the tower, but her face.  She arched her brows.  “You know, the lights twinkle for five minutes every hour, on the hour.”  She smiled and shrugged, whispering.  “It’s a sign that you’re supposed to return to Paris.”
Instead of saying anything, like how silly that was, he leaned in and cupped her face in his wide palm, callused and warm, bringing her face to meet his, kissing gently, in the twinkly glow of the lights.  He pulled back a moment later, breathing, “I think I like Paris.  And you’er right...this place has the best view.”  His eyes were wide on hers, focused.  She chuckled, nodding in agreement, and pulled him back to her for another kiss.
That night she savored every moment with him, as they pulled each other’s clothes off slowly, kissing and touching, every smooth curve and muscle of each other, each hard ridge and plane of his strong, muscular body or her soft, lean one.  He touched her and kissed her and stroked her in ways she’d never experienced, bringing her to heights she’d only dreamed about.  It was intense, the lights behind her closed eyelids when she came, over and over, gripping his shoulders, hair, the bedframe behind her.  He rose up and over her, in and out, their bodies moving as one, thrusting and arching.  
She didn’t know if she’d see him again; if this was a one-time, romantic Parisian adventure, but in the morning when she woke, she found him coming back inside from getting pastries and coffees, the faintest scent of cigarettes and her toothpaste on his lips when he kissed her good morning.  
They exchanged their information, vowing to speak daily, and he would see her when he got back from Bayeux.  She couldn’t believe when he did call and he kept his word.  “When you lie, words lose their meaning,” he’d explained, obviously reading her surprise.  
And when her year ended in Paris, she found herself in London, back at university, dreaming of their magical time there, even when they made time for each other, going back and forth from London to Edinburgh; and he from Edinburgh to Paris during the last couple of months of her year there.  
They made it a priority; every single year they spent time in Paris, like they were students again, on that magical night.  
They grew older, no longer needing to find the cheapest drinks and cigarettes, or staying in studio garrets, eventually able to experience some of the best hotels and restaurants the city had to offer, as he sold books and became a well-known author and professor, and her dream of becoming a famous artist came true, when sure enough, someone bought one of her paintings on the side of the Seine, someone who happened to be an art dealer in New York.  
It was their city, where they met, and where they could remember.  
After they married, about fifteen years after that fateful birthday, they visited again, and spun together on the Pont-Neuf, kissing and murmuring how they loved each other and always would, and he took her back to the tiny studio garret, which was now theirs, and sat on the rooftop and watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle.  
“Paris is always a good idea,” she murmured, head in the crook of his neck, her back to his front, wrapped in a warm blanket, and his arms tight around her middle.  She tilted her face up to his, sated, and still hopelessly in love with him.  “Take me to Paris, Jon.”
He nuzzled his nose into her cheek, whispering.  “You are Paris, Dany.”
As it was the city where they’d met, fallen in love, and found true happiness, she grinned, because that was his way of saying how much he loved her.  She brushed her lips over his, sighing, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”  
And they kissed, as the Eiffel Tower lit up, and she curled up into him, falling asleep in the city of love and lights.
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wizkiddx · 4 years ago
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ruining the plan isn't always so bad
you can tell whenever I have really important things to be doing in my life - bcos instead I will spend hours writing for no apparent reason ah kmn ;///
tomhollandxreader - pure fluffffff
Summary: tried to base off when Dom and Sam surprised Tom shooting a couple of years back- but this time they got Y/n with them too
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(I don't own the pic nor claim to ...idk how to do this crediting bit sorry :/)
The plan was in place. Tom was really struggling with homesickness on set of his newest film. No real reason why; just long hours, living out of a hotel room, half the world away from ‘home’. Harry was always flying out to join Tom as his ‘assistant’ however after a pretty heart-wrenching phone call Tom had made to Y/n, while she was hanging around with Haz and Harry at the Holland’s house... the plans had changed somewhat. He just seemed so distant and run down, when Nikki got her turn on the  phone she instantly knew that they had to do something. Naturally then, putting her superior organising skills to good use she arranged for Dom, Sam and Y/n to accompany Harry to Atlanta; and surprise Tom there. 
The way the last minute booking happened meant that Harry, Sam and Dom were all flying out on the same flight (though Harry was in first class, while the surprise guests were in economy). Y/n, because of her university timetable, couldn’t leave till a bit later, so was on a plane 2 hours after the Hollands - it wouldn’t make that much difference and if anything would prolong the joy of the excitement for Tom. They, meaning Harry who was oddly invested in the intracacies and details, had been brainstorming different ways to do the reveal- not sure whether to just do it in the hotel when Harry would be meeting Tom anyway, or waiting and surprising him when they were out for dinner or in a bar. Eventually they’d decided it would just be easier to have Harry, Dom and Sam just meet him at the hotel- then take him out to dinner, allowing time for Y/n’s later expected time of arrival, where she would then appear at the restaurant. 
Ever since Harry had let Tom know that he’d landed (if half an hour late), Tom had been excitedly texting him back constantly. The pair had agreed that Tom would simply meet him in Harrys hotel room when he got back from set. Yet when the time came, Sam and Dom were hiding just further down the corridor- waiting in the corridor. From their hideaway a couple of metres down the way from Tom and Harry, the obvious exctiement they could hear when Tom arrived and the two reunited warmed Dom’s heart. He just loved his sons all being so close- it was perhaps what  he was most proud of as a parent. Especially after witnessing both Harrison and Y/n loose a parent, he knew if god forbid anything happened to him and Nikki - they had each others backs completely. Sam was excitedly shifting from foot to foot hearing his brothers - Dom just subtly shook his head at the endearing nervous energy, clearly Sam was impatient for his turn. The idea was Sam would knock first then Dom, so after allowing a short time of just Tom and Harry reuniting, Sam pranced down the hallway and knocked. Yet it wasn’t Tom who flung the door open to Sam as per the scheme, instead his fuzzy haired twin.
“Harry what the fuck” Sam mouthed, daring to glance over his shoulder to attempt to spot Tom - annoyed at his brother for getting in the way.
“He’s on the shitter, change of plan bring Dad in.” Harry whisper-explained, making Sam roll his eyes at Tom unintentionally ruining his own surprise, before retreating to the hallway and beckoning his dad in. Dom pulled an equally bemused face until Harry filled him and he chuckled - earning him a harsh shush from both boys as they sat on the bed, facing the toilet door.
“So why did it take you so long to get here?” Tom asked through the thin loo wall, while Harry pushed his dad to sit further over on the bed.
“Oh ermm….they had some mix up with the luggage so we” Immediately getting slapped on the leg by his twin with a piercing glare,  Harry corrected himself “I mean -I had to wait for like an hour and a half to get my suitcase. Then I think I had the worst taxi driver in the world like down country roads and all.”
“Yeh like that drive should take like 40 minutes I thought? But when you texted me saying just left” He paused as the sound of the toilet flushing and the sink turning on flooded through the room ”that must’ve been at least an hour ago”
“I guess” Harry replied, hearing the tap turn off while Sam ran his fingers through his hair yet again - an excited or nervous tick.
“So how is everyone? I tried to call Dad and Y/n today but-“ The door opened, the stream of light flooding into the main room. Tom stopped dead in his tracks, voice cutting off but mouth hanging agape, still clutching onto the doorhandle. 
“Hello son” 
Dom spoke softly as he stood up from his choreographed position on the bed. Only at his words did Tom believe this was actually reality and literally sunk to his knees at the boundary between the ensuite and bedroom. He was awash with pure emotion, mainly relief - this was the exact thing he really needed right now. His dad soon pulled him up and hugged him, Sam following close behind. Tom’s reaction was priceless, the few tears being more than enough of a tell to his family how much he had needed this. 
It was an emotional reunion, there was a hell of a lot of hugs and suddenly the 14 hour journey was so worth it to Dom and Sam. Afterwards, they just all sat together on the bed and caught up on each others lives, Tom not really wanting to speak about himself - much preferring to hear all their stories from home about his mum and grandparents and the family that live down the road. He loved the normalcy of it. 
That was until a voice grabbed the attention of the whole room and Harry inwardly and silently cursed himself - in all the excitement he’d left his phone on silent in his jacket pocket, which was hanging on the coat rack so he hadn’t even heard it vibrate.
“Harry pick up your phone!” An exasperated voice exclaiming from the hallway half caught the Hollands’ attention, their heads all spinning in unison to the wooden hotel room door. It started to jerk open as Y/n wrestled with her suitcase ”You’ve left your hotel room open you div.Anyway I’m just dropping my case in your room so please text me where to go because - ugh- because right now you could all be anywhere in Atlanta and I-” 
The conversation within the room had died- all of them watching the petite brunette fight her way past the door with a silver suitcase that seemed ridiculously large and heavy for a weeks holiday. She had pressed her phone to her ear using her right shoulder and was wearing beige tracksuits a white crop top and a black leather jacket - as she grunted in frustration at the case, yanking it unceremoniously over the threshold. Subtly, Sam looked up at Tom, seeing his brothers eyes widen in shock, whole body turned completely rigid and Sam had to smile smugly - it was actually quite cute, even if he would never admit it to their faces. Y/n only stopped speaking into the receiver when her eyes finally darted into the room - noticing she had an audience. 
“Oh.” 
She stopped herself, pressing the end call button and pocketing her phone, whilst moving into the centre of  the room. She shot an apologetic smile to Harry, knowing she’d technically ‘ruined’ his plan - though to be fair it wasn’t her fault he didn’t answer the phone; or that his flight had been delayed meaning he didn’t get Tom to the resturaunt at the agreed time. Actually she could blame it all on Harry. He just rolled his eyes back at her whilst she looked past him and onto the shellshocked face of her boyfriend. 
Not being able to hide her grin, she halted at the foot of the bed, meanwhile Tom leant forward from the headboard - his eyes not leaving her. “You gonna say hi or am I just gonna stand here?” Y/n smirked, Tom still not moving from his shellshocked stance. Slowly her smirk morphed to a concerned look, eyebrows drawn inwards, as her look darted between Dom and Tom. 
“Tom are you okay?” she tried speaking gently, but before she could push anymore he launched himself off the sofa and into her arms, Y/n barely staying upright. Then Tom started spinning her round and round all the while squeezing her as tightly as possible. Y/n squealed an ‘I love you’  into his ear , already knowing Tom wasn’t ready to talk yet- instead just pressing his face closer into her neck. After a short while Tom lowered her to the ground and pulled away enough for Y/n to see the smudged tears around his eyes. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and looked deep into his mahogany brown eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“I am now” he nodded jerkily, all the while inching his lips closer to hers. Both consciously aware of half the Hollands just viewing them, their kiss was fleeting and light - but made Tom’s heart want to burst. 
“God I’ve missed your stupid face” She laughed, now her eyes filled with tears too. He let out a breathy chuckle in reply and used his thumb to wipe away a single droplet that escaped her eye.
“Missed yours more” her smile lit up the entirety of her face, such a natural glow across her face Tom shook his head slightly marvelling at her. 
“Ohhkkkayyy well I don’t really want to witness the making of nieces and nephews”
“Harry” Dom warned in a disapproving tone, even if he did have to fight back the laughter. To be quite honest he’d really enjoyed seeing his son and almost adopted daughter reunite. Both him and Nikki absolutely loved their relationship, they just went together oh so well, whilst slightly reminding them both of their younger carefree days. Harry rolled his eyes at his dad before continuing. 
“But shall we get dinner and then you can be alone all night” His eyebrows wiggled in such a manner Y/n swore she felt a little nauseous witnessing it. 
“Harry stop!” Sam interjected, elbowing Harry harshly in the side, earning him a  playful slap in return.
“Someone remind me why I’m paying the wrong twin to be my assistant?” Tom still hadn’t looked away from Y/n as he quipped a response at Harry, while Y/n was gently stroking up and down his cheeks with such a soft look in her eyes. 
“Because I rejected it” Sam smirked, making Harry yell out in anguish-
“I was second choice?!?!”
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
“Honestly just go play golf with your them! I have to do uni work anyway and-“
“But I don’t want to leave you! You’ve flown here too and I missed you.” Tom moaned, pressing a kiss into her hair from her position lying on his shoulder. Having slept uninterrupted for the first time in ages, Tom wasn’t even sure he wanted to venture away from Y/n and the bed at any point that day- even if it was for golf. 
“Your dad and Sam are only staying for the weekend so make the most of it! Me and my uni work are happy here-“ Tom’s eyes once again bugged out his face, as he caught on to her slip up.
“How long are you staying?” Shit. That was another thing she’d spoiled - getting a reputation to be as bad as Tom. Harry was for sure going to kill her.
“Oh fuck sake… that was my second surprise ruined… I’ve booked a week and a half off from uni so I can look after my little baby boy”
“Y/n don’t joke with me please.” Tom sat up, forcing Y/n to too which she huffed a little at, disrupting her comfort. It had her sitting up straight so she could look him in the eye and resting her hand on his exposed abdomen, asserting her authority on him. 
“I promise! My flights home next tuesday, but I’m missing uni so I have to be boring and keep up so it’s not a real holiday but-“ 
“I love you” 
Tom smiled for Y/n could never not surprise him. University was so important to her - she was really dedicating her life to it, especially financially. So her managing to put it on hold to look after him in a time of need was testament to just how kind and caring she truly was. 
“But you need to promise to look after yourself Tom. I haven’t seen bags under your eyes quite as impressive as this before. Think of your poor make up artists!” And she was back to being her usual sarky self. 
“I feel like I should be offended?”
“Or you can learn. Now go get showered before they leave without you.” Finally ralling off his side, then pushing him forcefully so he half rolled off the side of the bed. 
“Only if you shower with me.” The biggest smirk on his face, eyes wide and gleaming with mischief - which Y/n wanted to punch off so badly. On the other hand though, his idea didn’t sound half bad- letting him drag her up too. 
5 or so hours later, Y/n had written her assignment due in for next week and had submitted it online- making her feel pretty darn put together. She knew the boys had got back from the golf, and from the WhatsApp group Tom wasn’t very happy about his performance, so he was going to be moody. After closing her laptop triumphantly she chucked it in her bag and grabbed the spare key card and roamed the corridors of the hotel to find Sam and Dom’s room - where they all where. Tom had messaged her to let her know they were filming Dom’s podcast, so she had to be stealthy in her entrance - since to the public they were still just good friends. The secret still wasn’t ‘out’ so to speak. 
They’d left the door on the latch, allowing Y/n carefully pushing it open without making any noise. Immediately the golf-related bickering met her ears, while she peeked her head round the corner of the door. The four had set up armchairs by the window, with the camera balanced on top of a table and a stack of suitcases - in order for Harry to get the ‘perfect’ shot. Silently chuckling at the precarious arrangement, Y/n slid in through the door, turning round to gently close it shut again without noise. 
As soon as Tom had seen the door opening he had jumped out of his chair, walking up to Y/n and wrapping his arms round her- pulling her back into his chest off camera. Whispering a silently ‘I love you’ he grinned at the girl who was now arching to look into his eyes. She mirrored his sentiments, placing a bottle of water in his hand while pushing him back into frame. 
In reality, the whole of this podcast Tom had been attempting to summon energy in his body that was just not present. Don’t be mistaken, he had thoroughly enjoyed the time with his dad and brothers- but simply he only had today and tomorrow off filming for another 2 weeks, and the plan had been to stay as close to his bed as possible before the surprise happened. In all honestly, he caught his eyes drooping numerous times while they were filming the podcast- feeling safe in the surrounding of his family, the exhaustion was finally catching up to him. 
Y/n spent the rest of their podcast hidden behind the camera, doing some extra research on Sam’s double bed - yet sometimes having to stifle a chuckle at the boys filming. It was perhaps another 25/ 30 minutes before they finished, during which there was a hell of a lot of spoilers that they only realised too late could not be included. She really really did try to focus on her work, yet instead she found her eyes being drawn to her boyfriend. He still looked shattered. All she really wanted to do was wrap him in a thick duvet and cuddle into his side. She even promised herself to only find his occasional snores endearing tonight, which was something she often struggled with normally.
So when the camera was clicked off, Y/n spent a short amount of time chatting with all the Hollands, before suggesting they went to their own respective rooms before dinner. Unconsciously, when Y/n had suggested it, out of pure relief, Tom leaned almost all his weight against her side - anchored by the strong clasp on her hand. Of course, Y/n noticed and practically pulled Tom down the hallway without saying a word. Only when she let go of the door of their room, allowing it to close with a small slam, did she speak her mind.
“You shower, I’m getting room service then movies in bed… no arguments Holland.” He stared at her ,mouth agape, a little taken aback by her assertiveness, typically the opposite of Y/n. 
“I feel like you’ve just been inside all day, let me-“
“Nope. Nope. My holiday this is what I want… now shoo” She smirked, pushing him toward the ensuite door. Tom knew he did not have a choice in the matter, and even if he could possibly have some sort of influence- he was way too tired to argue.
Barely 15 minutes later, the two were wrapped cosily in the crisp white bedsheets, Tom with a small glass of a negroni cocktail and Y/n with her lime soda. Both were semi-reclined in a mound of pillows, yet Tom felt the need to also lean on her chest slightly. The familiarity of Y/n’s favourite movie ‘sunshine on leith’ playing on the screen, meant that within the first 10 minutes Tom was no longer alert. The smell of her perfume and the warmth of the duvet lulled him into a much needed slumber, making Y/n have to save the half-drunk negroni from spilling across the bedsheets as his grip relaxed. She just nestled in to the pillows further, a satisfied small grin dancing on her lips as she looked ahead at the TV, reducing the volume a little.
“Tom?…..Y/n?… Is anyone home?” A familiar voice sucked Y/n out from the next film ‘the greatest showman’, making her jump a little. Recognising it to be Dom instantly, Y/n had a mini argument in her head - whether to risk disturbing Tom by wriggling out from under him; or to call out instead, granting Dom independent entrance to the hotel room. It was possibly a bit of a weird position for her unofficial father-in-law to see his son and his girlfriend in, but she cared more right now about Tom resting than Dom’s opinions. 
“Dom…. come in… it’s open I think.” Desperately trying to get the volume right - enough so Dom could hear, but not so much as to wake Tom she called out, craning her neck toward the door. Luckily almost immediately Dom let himself in, and quizzically walked in seeing Y/n in bed.
“Sorry… it’s just I didn’t want to disturb him” Nodding in understanding, Dom inspected the state of his grown up, yet childlike son, asleep on her shoulder. 
“No no… he needs it. He always works himself raw for jobs but this…”
“It’s impressive even for him.” Y/n agreed, Dom noticing her unconscious stroking of his sons arm, soothing Tom as he slept. 
“Well me and the boys were trying to phone you both because we are going for dinner-“
“Ah sorry my phones in my bag”
“No no it’s fine… just it looks like Tom could do with an extra hour or so.” Dom motioned again to the slumbering figure with his trademark small grin, finding the whole situation entirely heartwarming.
“I was planning on waking him up so we could all go to the pub this evening… but yeh skipping the dinner might be a plan. I know it’s your last night and all but-“
“-Don’t apologise Y/n. I’m glad you’re looking after the kid.”  Y/n just smiled slightly, a small blush glowing from her cheeks. “I’ll um….leave you in peace… so maybe 9 o’clock? That gives you both 3 and a bit hours.”
“Sounds good!”Still speaking softly, Y/n freed one of her hands from the duvet and gave Dom a little wave as he exited the room giving a nod to her as the door closed. 
It was a sign of the times. Dom used to be Tom’s go to whenever he was tires, frazzled or fed up. But now he had been superseded by a far superior option. A kind, beautiful, intellectual choice - that Dom would graciously accept defeat to. 
He was awfully glad Tom had Y/n in his corner. And he was awfully glad he had found a surrogate  daughter in Y/n too. 
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aforestlife · 3 years ago
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Which AC version is your fave and why? 💐🌼🌻🌷🍀🌲🌱
My favorite is New Horizons. 🌄 I'm not sure if that's a popular answer or not. But the creative heights you can reach with it blow me away, both what I've been able to do with my favorite builds, and what I see from others on places like tumblr/IG/twitter every week! The endless possibilities are like endless content and potential for gameplay, it can be so calming & enjoyable to just fiddle with areas and work on your island for hours while unwinding to music, or a show, podcast, or stream. I know AC is more than juat the designing but it's what I focus on most, and I think there's plenty to enjoy in New Horizons when it comes to the villagers (the outfit giving, their activities, even the dialog is good imo when you get past the short initial greetings). There's a whole side designing game now just a plane ride away, cooking and crops and all the new features added in 2.0. I also loove the convenience features. I have a lot of history with New Leaf and Wild World, but Wild World can be so painful with the flower watering, and New Leaf can be painful with plot resetting, rocks, lack of transparency in patterns, etc. New Horizons is just beautiful, creative, convenient and breezy with its QoL (although it needs more lol, I have suggestions there), so it's overall my fav. It's even such that I have trouble going back to older games now, even though I played NL and WW for so long. I'm going to try to get back into my WW Lets Play now thay the snow has melted though : ')
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j10kkuno · 4 years ago
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Amigops!!!! Amigops in the Rooster's Rest!!!!! I couldn't get the best screenshot of all four but we all know what Yuno looks like.
Corpse ended up playing Crops Gus, Amon's brother. They come from North Carolina and Crops still has an accent. According to Crops, memory problems run in the family but Amon has it worse. Amon lost his eye due to an incident with their cat, Bin(Bin Gus, Bingus). It sounds like them being the long lost cousins of the twins was just a Twitter joke, which I kinda prefer but might still be fun. I was actually thinking about swapping them to be Ray's cousins and childhood friends vs Yuno's in my headcanon since Yuno had Euno on his side of the family tree so yeah.
But no, so far it's fun! Corpse ran into Sykkuno and Toast by chance and was like "Holy shit, Amon?" And Sykkuno grinned. He is so happy to have Corpse on the server. There's a very instinctual level of trust between Yuno and Crops and I love it. He showed the brothers how to rob a house and then they met up with Rae at the Rooster's Rest so he could pawn them off on her so he could do a bank with Lang and Ray C while she continued to show them the ropes.
She is very stressed because she doesn't know what she's doing and she had two newbies looking to her but it's fun. My headphones died so I have to stop the VOD but I want to watch them getting into stuff. I guess she phoned in Autumn to help her which is going to be fun. Stuff to look forward too.
(I did see the banks after work! They went great! Good cops on duty-main two were Garry and Reducer who are both nicer cops lowkey because they main crims so they know both sides, same with AJ and Conan. During the first one, Ray disconnected from the server and lost the keys to his backup car and they paused the chase to let him lockpick it midchase because they knew it was a server issue. Chang Gang did the vault, no bloodshed, shockingly. Ramee was so bloodthirsty at the start of his stream due to rule changes. No bikes, no swapping cars, no planes for getaways, it's crazy.)
I cannot wait to see more Amigops on GTA. Rae's playing everyday at 5, Sykkuno is on almost daily these days, and hopefully the other two are having fun!
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mmvalentine · 4 years ago
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Lockdown Lovers, pt 2 | Feysand
Modern pandemic AU. Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
Feyre's smile dropped as soon as the bathroom door banged closed. She cursed herself mentally. Her crush on her best friend's cousin was getting wildly out of hand, she was pretty sure Rhys knew it.
Octopuses are so weird?! That was how she was trying to get him to spend time with her? Feyre slumped back in the couch, her legs sliding out in front of her. Octopuses? Octopi? Octopodes? She didn't know, but she was fairly certain it wasn't her grammatical clumsiness that made Rhys bolt for the bathroom and away from her. The poor thing had been stuck in an apartment with her for a month now, and clearly did not reciprocate her feelings. As the weeks went by, he had been avoiding her more and more. Feyre tried to stay out of his way, but in a tiny apartment where you weren't supposed to leave the house, it was very difficult.
Lost in the cringe, Feyre hadn't noticed the shower shut off, or the bathroom door open. She did, however, feel the kick against her ankle and the surprised yelp that came from Rhys as he tripped over her outstretched legs. Her eyes flew open.
"Rhys! I'm so sorry!" She scrabbled to pull her legs back and reached out to help him up. It was then she noticed he was naked in a towel, hair still wet, and she was touching his bare shoulder. His skin was soft and hot from the shower. She swallowed.
"Sorry," she mumbled again. Rhys just smirked. "Well, that's certainly one way to get me awake in the morning," he said. He ran a hand through his damp hair, and his bicep flexed with the movement. Feyre's eyes were dragged to the planes of his chest, and the harsh black lines of his tattoos.
"To be fair, I suppose this is my fault for having such a tiny apartment." "Yes, I mean no," Feyre replied quickly. "You know how grateful I am for you letting me stay. As soon as the lockdown lifts I'll be out of your hair."
Hair. His dark, thick crop looked so good slicked back like this. Feyre pushed her fingers though it in her mind, and had to will her focus back to the present. A funny look had come over Rhys' face, and she blushed, wondering if he had caught her fantasising.
"You can stay as long as you like," Rhys said. "Mor always says I get sullen when I spend too long away from other humans. Whatever that means."
Feyre smiled her thanks, and Rhys padded back to his bedroom.
For the rest of the day, Feyre bummed around the house. She watched netflix, and baked cookies, and cleaned the kitchen within an inch of its life. Like every other fucking day for the past month. Unlike Rhys, she was struggling to keep up motivation to work. Being cooped up like this made her feel both restless and sluggish at the same time. She did spend some time each day at her laptop, doing uni classes online, but it was difficult to get inspired to write when the environment was the same every damn day. She tried not to bother Rhys too much- as an extrovert, Feyre seemed to be struggling more with the lockdown than he did. By the time the sun was setting, she broke.
Outside Rhys' bedroom door, Feyre raised a hand to knock, then let it fall, then raised it again. Three times. After a month of living at close quarters, she wasn't sure why this was still so hard for her. Finally, she forced her knuckles to the wood, then waited. There was just the muffled music for a moment, then Rhys appeared.
"What's up?" he asked. His room smelled like him, and she got the sudden urge to go inside and curl up in his sheets.
"I, ah, was wondering if you'd like to come watch a movie with me. I ordered pizza." Rhys quirked an eyebrow. "Don't we have like a whole leftover lasagne that you made?" "Well, yes, but I felt like pizza." Rhys rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Sure. I'm just finishing up but give me a yell when the pizza gets here." Feyre nodded and headed back to the lounge. "And no more of those serial-killer docos we've been watching!" Rhys called after her.
Twenty minutes later, Feyre shut the front door and called out to her housemate. "Rhys, pizza's here," she hollered. She headed back to the lounge, flicking the lights off on her way through, and sat with her legs crossed under her. She balanced the flat boxes on one knee and pulled her laptop toward her on the other. A minute later, Rhys appeared next to her and sat down heavily on the couch. He pulled the pizzas from her, and opened the top box.
"Hey, you remembered my order," he said. Feyre snorted. "We live together, Rhys, I think I can remember one pizza order."
He picked up a slice and bit off half of it in one mouthful, then slung an arm round the back of the couch behind her while he chewed.
"So what are we watching?" he asked. "Not serial killers, right?" Feyre said. "Right," Rhys confirmed. She hit the link to stream to the TV, and Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge! came up on the screen. She expected Rhys to complain, but his eyes lit up and he leaned forward.
"Oh this is a great movie," he said. "Yeah?" "It's a classic, great choice."
Feyre smiled, surprised, and set the laptop to the side. She settled back against the couch and started on her own pizza. Rhys' arm went back behind her, and where his wrist hung off the couch, his fingers grazed her arm.
Feyre's skin warmed at even this slightest touch. It had been weeks since she'd had any real physical contact with anyone, and she sorely missed it. Mor was always so physically affectionate, she would kill for one of her signature hugs right now.
But alas, this was all she had. Feyre pushed the longing down deep and tried to concentrate on the movie.
Then, Rhys' arm moved from the couch, to actually resting across her shoulders. Feyre leaned back into him automatically, then tensed up as she realised what she had done. Before she could feel embarrassed, Rhys gave her arm a squeeze, and she relaxed into him. The warmth coming from under his soft hoodie felt amazing, and she almost groaned in relief.
Feyre stared ahead at the TV for a minute, the peeked up at Rhys. To her surprise, he was looking down at her, light from the screen flickering off his violet eyes. A slight grin tugged at his lips.
"Comfy?" he said. "Mmhmm," she murmured. He was so close she could have reached out and touched his lips.
Rhys turned his eyes back to the movie, and Feyre followed suit.
A few minutes later, he turned his body and lay back into the couch, pulling Feyre with him so she was between his legs with her head on his shoulder. She thrilled at the thought of being horizontal with him.
"Is this okay?" Rhys asked, just above her ear. "Yeah," Feyre replied, aiming for nonchalance. He chuckled beneath her, and she wasn't sure she achieved it. She felt the rumble through his chest, and loved it.
The movie played on, but Feyre lost track of it. She was busy secretly exploring this comfortable position with Rhys- the way his hoodie smelled like him, the solidity of his body beneath her, and the enthralling amount of contact their bodies now had. Sure, Rhys flirted, but she knew he wasn't genuinely into her. Still, she couldn't help moving her hand slowly across his chest, flexing as she felt the planes of his muscles even through the thick fabric. She breathed him in, and her head was dizzy with the scent.
Suddenly, Feyre went still, realising what she was doing. Her face burned in the dark room, and she hoped he was distracted enough by the movie that he hadn't noticed her smelling him. Feyre shifted her weight around, trying to find a position that felt less like she had pathetically draped herself all over him.
And then she felt something hard poking into her lower back, and stopped moving.
****
Keep it cute or go full smutty? These are the questions I have for you.
Also tags seem to not be working heaps well, so I don't know if pt 1 is more visible or if people just like it better. Any advice?
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backtothestart02 · 3 years ago
Text
The Football Star and the New Girl - 1/? | westallen fanfiction
A/N: I suck at titles lately...oh well. Enjoy this first chap! The story itself is based loosely on a dream I had. :)
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Synopsis:  HS!AU - They were like ships passing in the night. Would they ever meet on the same page?
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Chapter 1 -
Francine West walked down the hall and peeked into the open doorway of her daughter’s bedroom. She found her sitting on her bed, her things packed in multiple suitcases at her feet, but she herself – Iris West, 14 ¾ years old – did not look very excited to be leaving her home without her family. She was looking at a photo album. Tears were staining her cheeks.
Francine rested her head against the door frame as she watched her, her heart aching to heal the wounds she knew would only grow more with time.
“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.”
Iris’ head whipped toward the sound, and she hastily shut the photo album and tossed it onto her bed, wiping her cheeks quickly after.
“Mom!”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t interrupting, was I?”
She walked into the room, and Iris scooted over a little so she could sit next to her on the bed.
“No, not at all. I’m glad you’re here.”
They shared a sweet look, then Iris leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. Francine held out her hand, and Iris intertwined her fingers in her mother’s grip.
“I still want to go,” she assured her.
“Yeah?”
She nodded against her shoulder.
“I need stability, mom. I can’t be moving around going from school to school every six months. I’m proud of dad, of course, and I love being with you all. I’ll miss you a lot, but…I want friends and the same school and a life.”
“A boyfriend?” Francine nudged her gently.
Iris rolled her eyes and smiled.
“Maybe…eventually. I’m only 14, Mom.”
Francine nudged her again.
“14 ¾.”
Iris laughed.
“Yeah, yeah, okay. A boyfriend would be nice, once I get to know the guy for more than a couple months. But first, friends.”
“Friends are important too.”
Iris nestled into her mother’s embrace and sat in silence for a while.
“What about Wally? Is he going to be going to new schools every-”
“I’ve decided to attempt homeschooling.”
Iris lifted her head.
“You have?”
She nodded.
“He’s only 10, so the curriculum is simpler, and he’s pretty introverted, even around us, so Ruffly can suffice for his friend. At least for now.”
Francine pursed her lips. She did want real, live human friends for her son, as well as for her daughter. But for now their golden retriever seemed to be what got the most laughs out of young Wally West. She would hope that lasted at least through another school year.
“I’d take him with me if I could,” Iris said.
“You’d take both my children from me?” Francine asked, only half joking. “What am I supposed to do all day long without your brother to drive me crazy?”
Iris looked into her mother’s eyes and saw that they were watering.
“Oh, Mom, I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay, honey.”
She sighed and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s temple.
“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, losing your friends so often because we have to move. It’s the life of a military family, I’m afraid. I signed up for it when I agreed to marry the man, but you, my baby, were just born into it.”
She pulled back to look into her eyes.
“I want you to know though that if at any time the school isn’t working out for you, we’ll come get you in a heartbeat.”
Iris winced. She knew it wasn’t that simple. They were moving overseas to a new post. Iris would be staying here in the U.S. Even if the school was a bit of a move for her too. It wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to.
Still, she obliged her.
“Yeah, okay, mom.”
She smiled, but Francine knew better.
Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and interrupting their little moment came Joe West with little Wally West on his back. Joe was dressed in all camouflage wear, and Wally was giggling from bouncing up and down on his “horsie”. Ruffly was close at Joe’s heels.
“What is this here?” Joe asked, witnessing the tear streaks on his two ladies’ faces.
“Dad!” Iris sprung up.
She ran to him, and he slowly released Wally off his back, who promptly complained when his shoeless feet hit the floor.
Joe hugged his daughter tight, lifting her off her feet briefly and kissing the side of her face.
“Oh, baby girl, are you sure you want to go?”
Iris laughed when she was back on her feet again. She wiped away fresh tears.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m just gonna miss you guys, but I need this. For me. Okay?”
He sighed and nodded, then looked across the room at his wife.
“She’s so grown-up.”
“I know.” Francine sniffled.
“Why is everyone crying in here?” Wally asked. “Aren’t we gonna see her for Christmas?”
Everyone laughed.
“Aren’t you gonna miss me at all, you little punk?” Iris asked, ruffling his curly hair.
“Eh, maybe a little.” He shrugged, uncaringly.
Iris rolled her eyes.
“Well, it’s time to get going then, yeah?” She looked at her parents who nodded.
“Yeah,” Joe said. “That seven-hour drive is no joke.”
“Seven hours! That’s a lifetime!” Wally whined.
Ruffly barked.
“Just wait till your plane ride,” Iris egged him on. “That might be even longer.”
Wally groaned. “I hate traveling!”
“Better make sure you have something to keep you occupied with then, Walls,” Joe said, and with that Wally zipped out of Iris’ room to make sure his many bags included plenty of toys to play with on his very long journey.
“I’ll go help him,” Francine said. “We’ll meet you at the door with his things.”
“Sounds good.”
Joe smiled, but it was pained. Once Francine had left, all the toughness had melted away again, as it often did with his baby girl.
“Boy, am I gonna miss you,” he said.
“I’m gonna miss you too, Dad.” Another tear streamed down her cheek, and he was quick to wipe it away. “You look so handsome in your uniform, Dad.”
He chuckled.
“Alright, enough sadness for now. We can do this again in seven hours.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
“You wanna help me get all a million and one suitcases out to the car?”
She took a step back and looked around her room.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“You can apologize by helping me.”
“Deal.”
She smiled, and slowly they made their way to the front door and then the driveway with all seven of her suitcases. It took a few trips, but then she knew she would need every bit of her belongings for the long school years that lay ahead.
Her family would visit as often as they could, of course, but it would be difficult with them living overseas. She probably wouldn’t see them again until her dad was forced to move again like they were doing now.
But she’d thought long and hard   this. She longed for friendships that lasted, for a life beyond what was available to a military family. She needed to connect and to be free for a while, even at the sacrifice of not seeing her family every day, especially her mom and baby brother. This new school – Huntington Farm and Boarding School – would be just the ticket.
Out in the middle of nowhere somewhere down south, the school was on a huge stretch of lush land that also served as a farm – no animals, just crops, which was a shame, Iris thought. She’d miss having even just her dog around too.
But the place was renowned for its academics and social scene there in the middle of the wilderness. A boarding school for those who needed it, traveling families mostly; and if the colorful flyer they’d sent in the mail was any indication, Iris would absolutely love it.
“Everybody ready?” Joe asked, when everyone had piled into the car sometime later.
“Ready!” the family cheered.
Joe chuckled and started the car.
“Huntington Farm and Boarding School, here we come. Watch out for your most dazzling student yet.”
He met Iris’ eyes in the rearview mirror, and they sparkled.
“You know it!” Iris said.
Joe grinned and backed out of the driveway.
They were all on their way to bigger adventures now.
One year later…
Iris sat on top of the fence on the edge of the football field, waiting for who she hoped she hadn’t misinterpreted wrong. After nearly a year of first claiming he didn’t like her and then months of mixed signals, Iris was convinced he actually did like her, as much as she liked him.
Sitting on the fence post waiting for the guy to come kiss her seemed like an odd tradition, but it was built into the social aspect of the school, and she figured it was the only guaranteed way she’d know if he was really crushing or not.
She’d dressed as cute as she could for a game, and soon she’d know if it would pay off or not.
Biting her bottom lip, she gasped quietly when she saw him coming around the corner heading right towards where she had herself perched.
Barry Allen was the star football player – star of every sport he could get himself into really – and they’d been making genuine eyes at each other for weeks. Now, as he approached her, it felt as if their whole future was hanging in the balance.
He stopped about 20 feet away. Bracing himself maybe for the decision he’d have to make? Presumably have gained the courage, he continued his walk, headed straight for her and stopped directly in front of her.
Iris waited, her heart hammering a mile a minute in her chest. He was tall enough to reach her – so tall, but she bent her head anyway, and sure enough their lips met in a soft, tender kiss.
She opened her eyes as he took a step back, but the smile on his face was undeniable. So was hers.
Just as he was about to say something truly romantic – she’d decided – one of his teammates burst behind them.
“Did you just kiss Iris West?”
Barry spun around, panic on his features.
“I-”
Another teammate appeared.
“Wait, what?”
“Barry just kissed Iris!”
“But I thought he hated her. He swore he did.”
Iris tensed on the top of the fence, waiting for Barry to smooth the whole thing over. It couldn’t be that big of a deal that he’d pretended to hate her all while flirting with her on the downlow for nearly a year…could it? It was annoying to her for sure, but his teammates couldn’t be that annoyed, could they?
Barry never smoothed it over.
His teammates left, looking disgusted, and Barry looked back at Iris for one more moment, not knowing what to do. Then he left, calling after them.
“Wait, guys, it’s not what it looks like!”
And Iris sat alone on top of the fence, the magical memory of her first kiss completely shattered.
How would they come back from this?
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