#who is about 8 to 9 months old here
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jendoe · 2 years ago
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ockiss 23 💘 jen doe x frankie sterling (@phillipsgraves!)
wc: 524
Frankie was having a bad day.
Then again, when wasn't he? It seemed that every time Richard called him into the office, his day immediately went down the drain and right now, all he was looking forward to was climbing under the covers to hide. He loosened the suffocating tie his father preferred he wore for business meetings, allowing him to breathe better, as he climbed the steps to his and Jen's front door.
It opened before he could fish his keys out of his pocket. Jen had clearly been waiting for him to return, Kai resting on her hip, and she leaned up to meet him for a kiss. He smiled against her lips. Exactly what he needed after a long, hard day.
"Hi honey," he said with a soft, fond laugh, taking their son from her. He pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, delighting in the baby babble he gets in return. Just being with them, he already felt better. "You two miss me?"
"Always," Jen said, and she laughed, too. "He did good today, though. I'd say that's an improvement over the hours of screaming he did the last time you had to leave for something."
He held Kai up to look him in the eye. "That separation anxiety's a bitch, huh?"
"He takes after you," Jen said, gesturing for him to hand him back. She held him close to her chest once he was in her arms again. "Remember that first competition you had where I couldn't come with you? That phone bill was something else."
Frankie clicked his tongue. "Bully."
"Love you," was all she had to say in return, as she headed towards the kitchen. He followed after her, now noticing how good the house smelled, and she seemed to guess what he was thinking, as she continued. "I made your favorite dumplings. I figured you would need a pick me up."
"You know me too well," he said, peering into a pot on the stove while she busied herself with getting Kai settled in his high chair. She'd made his favorite soup, too, and briefly, he wondered what he did to deserve such an amazing person. "Hey, Jen?"
She glanced at him, brows raised. "Yeah, babe?"
"I love you so much."
That got a laugh out of her. "And here I thought I was just a bully."
He shook his head and moved away from the stove to pull her in by her waist. "No, you're the best wife I could ask for," he said, a little dramatically just to get his point across. He leaned in for another kiss, full of love and longing from being apart from her for so long. "Seriously."
"Hey, I already made you your favorite food." Her laugh made his chest ache, but in a good way, which was a welcome change from how he'd felt all day. "You don't need to butter me up."
"Ah, but maybe I do," Frankie said, and he kissed all over her face. "I love you. I love you. I love you."
Jen melted in his arms, still giggling softly. "I love you, too."
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yokelfelonking · 1 year ago
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Post 9/11 Trivia
Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:
There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)
On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.
People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.
As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.
Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"
People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.
"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)
People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.
On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.
Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)
EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.
Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)
And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"
Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"
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lylianrae · 5 months ago
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A list of all the things I have manifested ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪
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We manifest everything in our lives btw - the good and the bad which is why I will be including both to prove that the law does not discriminate. If you can successfully become poor, you can most definately become rich with the same ease because everything is just a state.
Long hair
AHH this is one of my favourite manifestations. Ever since I was young I had a weird bob with a fringe (often crooked) and I wanted long hair like all the other girls (lmaoo) but my mum was strict so she didn't let me grow it out. Although I didn't know about manifestation back then, every new year and birthday I would wish for long hair and I would pretend I was a princess with butt long hair. Guess what, somewhere along the line, my mum let me grow it out and now I have butt length hair (don't really know what to do with it tho </3).
As all kids do, I went through an emo phase where I chopped off like half of my hair like 4 years ago. I literally grew back 7-8" of hair within a month because my parents got too mad. I knew about manifestation here so I just assumed my hair always grows unaturally fast. Same with when I cut bangs, they grew past my chin within a couple of weeks.
Manifesting my way into a private school
Honestly this just shows that you dont need 2430430 hours of working on your self concept to manifest. Literally so many celebs, including Marylin Monroe (the queen), manifested their fame with awful self concept. Likewise, here I was possibly going through the worst time of my life back then. I would wake up at 8 am and start studying and end at 11 pm despite being only 10 at the time. I was so freaking stressed and envious of all the other children and went into a depressive spiral where my two options were pass or die. I didn't even have enough practice and I cried my self to sleep on most nights. Anyways, when i did the exam I was deathly calm and even after the exam I was apparently so chill so my parents thought I failed.
I literally left 9 questions on one paper but throughout the summer, everytime I found a dandelion I would make a wish and imagine digging a tunnel to the examiners room where I secretly change my answers into the right ones (lmfao my tiny 10 yr old brain - idek how it worked). Anyways my results were sent back to me a month later on a random October evening and I got a really high mark. Even after 7 years of going to this school I havn't met anyone who has gotten a mark higher than mine.
Curly hair / straight hair
Sigh. We always want things we don't have. When I was younger I had really straight hair like 1A asian hair but when I was like 10, I really wanted curly hair and I would try to curl it often. After a few months, I manifested a curling iron and my hair literally became naturally curly like right after a wash it would curly af when before it was dead straight. Naturally I grew bored of it and I wanted my straight hair back and for ages I began overcomplicating the law and struggled to manifest it. It was only recently when I actually let go of the 3D that I manifested the silky, shiny straight hair.
Social life?
This is also a funny one, just shows how easily you can manifest. So back in 2021 after lockdown I felt so lonely and felt so left out of my friendship group so after a few months I began stressing myself out and spiraling for like 30 minutes, sobbing to myself about how I was so lonely and how nobody loved me (💀). Anyways it became reality, I found myself uncomfortable in many social situations and found myself becoming forgotten far more easily. I don't really remember the details but it was so bad that I think I accidently manifested social anxiety (oh well we still up tho).
However I am a loa girly so I found myself listening to popularity subliminals and slowly (but surely) my mindset change from having no friends to being the most popular girl in the year. Like no joke I became friends with like 3 people from different social circles so at lunchtime we had to join up like 3 different tables so we can all sit together. Overall I got myself 20+ close friends and even my ex friends began to admire me although it had ended badly. Even now, when someone says something thats untrue - for example saying that they are dumb when they are not, they would be like "ahaha so its like when Rae (me) says she has no friends, the whole school knows who Rae is".
Clear skin
This was sort of in the beginning of my loa (law of attraction back then) journey, I just randomly found out what subliminals were and was still quite new to everything. Now I don't even understand how it happened but I had busted some capillaries under my skin and it looked like small red viens under my skin and bro I was freaking out at the time. One night I was like just, I had enough, I'm going to get myself better skin and so I listened to a sub once for 3-4 days and on like the 4th day, my cheeks began to heat up which was odd and the next day it was 90% gone. Just like magikkkk.
Desired university?
Guys. Feeling is the secret. Don't you ever forgot that - not feeling as in emotions but rather the feeling of knowing. I had 2 entrance exams to do to apply for my universities and it was a stressful time where I wasn't getting enough sleep and wasn't eating enough simply because I didn't have the time. Like I come home from school and would have 3-4 hours of homework, then I need to revise for tests and then the remaining time would be spent on the entrance exams. Each past paper took 2 hours and I have around 13s per questions and I was already struggling on time. Anyways, I began to hate them and I would often complain to my mum saying things like "My score got even lower!!" or "I hate it so much" or "My head hurts / eyes hurt".
Guess what? Not only did I see my score decrease over time but I also made such a silly mistake on the most important entrance exam which I needed for 4/5 of my universities. I left a question and completely forgot to mark on the answer so when I finished the section I realised I had one more space on the sheet with like 10s to spare. I didn't have enough time to go back and fix it and lemme say that I did so badly in the test. Even while waiting for results I was just like "ah it would be a miracle if I scored above this bla bla".
I got the score back and it was so freaking bad like I did not stand a chance at my university at all. However, I started to affirm for a place and to my utter shock and surprise my desired university reached out and offered me an interview. I knew people who had like scores which were 50% better than mine and they still got rejected pre-interview. Anyways I began stressing about the interview and the results of the whole thing and boom. I got rejected 3 days after my birthday lmaoo. But its okay because I'm reapplying and I learnt so much more. I'm redoing the entrance exam and my score is a loooot better than it ever was last year.
A key take away would be thoughts are the result of the state you are in. Your dwelling state manifests and I was focusing on the unrealness and the difficultly of getting into this uni and thats what manifested. At the time I was heartbroken and literally went through the 7 stages of grief and spent so many months trying to revise it only for me to focus on the 3D. Just know that everything is done in imagination and it appears in the 3D as a result.
Photographic memory
So this is also something I had manifested before I actually knew about loa but the takeaway here is that manifestation is always instant. I was around 11 reading a random book on my tiny kindle and the book was on how to develop a good memory and I was like ah that'll be useful. Anyways later in the car, I asked my dad about photographic memory and he sort of explained it to me. I just assumed that I have that and I told him I do. He just laughed at me and said thats something that you have to train for and I was not impressed lmao. Inside my tiny brain, I was just like nope, I already have photographic memory and I dropped that thought. Let me tell you, my memory is actually photographic and has helped me out on so many occasions like my brain just takes pictures of things.
Learning fast
This is also something I did before I knew loa, I was just always wondering why the other kids couldn't grasp concepts as easily as I did. Literally in every lesson I would be like ah I learn so fast and now I am actually blessed with the ability to grasp complex subjects so fast. A favourite example of mine would be when I was obsessed with music but to take it to a higher level you need to be able to play an instrument. I couldn't at the time and my teacher told me the requirements a week before the actual deadline. I have never actually played piano with both hands but one day I sat down and worked through the entire song (fur elise by Beethoven) which is a grade 5 (I think) and it normally takes people months / weeks to learn. I learnt the whole thing in 3 days and from then on, I could play piano like I had been doing for ages. Again the memory thing was so helpful because I never actually used any sheet music, I learnt it off a youtube video and I remembered every single note I needed to play.
Hourglass body + 22" waist
This was a couple of years ago when I actually didn't understand loa. Anyways long story short, I would do a 3 minute workout and then flex infront of the mirror all day (💀) and be like omg I have abs. Overtime, I actually got so skinny everyone around me kept pointing it out to me and my mum got so concerned that she took me to the doctor like 4 times. It was so funny, I would loose like 2-3kg overnight and my parents would have to buy better fitting uniform.
Bigger boobs
This was also back in the day (2021?) when I didn't understand how to manifest things easily af. I had an A cup but I wanted better boobies and I listened to like 2 subs for a week and I went to a B cup. But I just assumed I have a bigger cup size recently and I just skipped C and went to D+ (haven't measured in a long time).
I'm not done but I'm tired now bye bye
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5sospenguinqueen · 7 months ago
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Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader
Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.
Main Masterlist
next.
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Feb
YourUserName just posted
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liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others
YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'
12,326 comments
User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album
User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely
User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it
→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real
→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it
francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?
→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired
User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt
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2 months before
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May
redbullracing just posted
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liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others
redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet
7,445 comments
User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill
User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull
User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career
User 10 that should’ve been Y/N
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June
YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others
YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'
10,102 comments
User 11 not max liking despite not even following
victoriaverstappen so talented
liked by maxverstappen1
→ YourUserName thank you, vic x
→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main
alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears
→ YourUserName doofus
→ lilymhe can confirm
User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad
kellypiquet just posted
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liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others
kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1
4,387 comments
User 13 so pretty
User 14 goals
User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials
→ User 16 delusional
→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him
→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...
→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post
→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium
YourUserName posted a new story
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Baby Fever Angst Series
Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)
@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery
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eternally-racing · 9 months ago
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baby steps | lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 
genre: fluff
warnings: none 
word count: 2.5k
summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?
note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !
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When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 
The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 
“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 
You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.
“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 
“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”
While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 
“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 
“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 
Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 
You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 
“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 
Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.
 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.
The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 
Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 
But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 
“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 
“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 
Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 
When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 
“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 
You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 
“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 
Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 
“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 
“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 
The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.
At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.
“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.
It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 
Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 
“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 
You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 
It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 
It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.
You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 
“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.
“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 
----
author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 9 days ago
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 16
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15
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Aside from bathroom breaks, Eddie doesn’t leave his room for two days. Friday bleeds into Saturday, bleeds into Sunday, and Eddie wallows in it. Wayne knows him well enough to not bother him, but Wayne also knows him well enough to barge into Eddie’s room Sunday morning without even knocking.
“Up, boy,” he says gruffly, turning Eddie’s overhead light on. “Your eggs are getting cold.”
Eddie groans, and tries to roll over to bury his face back into his pillow, but Wayne grabs him by the ankle and yanks until he goes tumbling out of the bed.
“Wayne!”
“I ain’t asking,” Wayne says, storming out of Eddie’s room without closing the door.
As is his right, Eddie whines and rolls around on his floor for a minute until he can finally find the will to get up. Clearly knowing that it would take Eddie a minute, Wayne’s just plating eggs and potatoes as Eddie walks into the kitchen, still clothed in only his boxers and the same shirt he’d been wearing when Carver’d kicked his ass on Thursday.
They settle across from each other at their dingy table, Wayne letting him get a few bites of breakfast in him before the interrogation he knows is coming begins.
“What happened?” Wayne asks, pushing his own plate away so he can focus on staring Eddie down.
Eddie swallows his bite of potatoes, throat suddenly dry. But, he wants to tell someone, he wants to tell Wayne, who, no matter how Eddie fucks up, is always in his corner.
“I’ve been getting these letters,” Eddie starts, using his fork to play with his food so he doesn’t have to meet his Uncle’s eyes as the whole sordid tale comes out.
He tells it like he experienced it: thinking it was a joke at first before getting wrapped up in the letters, finding out it was Chrissy, trying to connect the living, breathing girl to the words on the page.
And then, Harrington, strong and sure as he defended him from Carver, taking care of his wounds in the aftermath, lying to him for months until he couldn't get away with it anymore.
Wayne just listens without interruption while Eddie talks about Jeff’s betrayal, the fear in Chrissy’s eyes, the defeated slope of Harrington’s back as he’d walked out the door, going god knows where with his car still at the quarry where he’d left it.
When Eddie’s finally done, Wayne hums and pulls his now-cold food back in front of him, picks up his fork and starts to eat. Eddie watches him, gobsmacked.
“Wayne?” Eddie asks, moving his hand up and down in front of his Uncle’s eyes, checking to see if the old man can even still see him. “That’s all you’re going to say? Hmm, and then back to breakfast?”
Eddie scowls as he forks another potato into his mouth, chewing as he continues his tirade. “Where are your wise words, old man? Why the hell’d you even make me get up if this is all I was going to get?”
Wayne hums again, clearly just to piss Eddie off, then finally answers, “you needed to eat.”
Eddie stares at him, mouth hanging open half-masticated potatoes on full display for anyone to see. Not that anyone’s going to because Wayne’s gone back to polishing off his breakfast.
“That’s it?” Eddie demands, throwing his fork down in a huff.
Wayne sighs, like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here and finally puts his fork down to meet his nephew’s eyes.
“Finish your breakfast, and we can talk.”
Eddie whines, but dutifully scarfs down his plate, never breaking eye contact with his uncle, like they’re in a stand-off. And in a way, they are.
Once done, Eddie tosses his fork across the room into the sink just to prove a point, leans across the table and glares at Wayne. Because he’s an asshole, Wayne takes another sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact, before finally opening his mouth to speak.
“You like this boy?” Wayne asks.
Eddie sputters and stalls out. “You—I—what?” Eddie asks, fisting his hands into his greasy hair.
“It ain’t an unreasonable question,” he replies. “You’re talking about the kid like he’s a knight in one of those little games you like so much.”
“I—no I wasn’t!” Eddie cries, cheeks burning at the implication.
“Mmmhmm,” Wayne replies, eyebrow raised as he drinks more of his coffee like what he’s saying is of no importance at all.
“Wayne,” Eddie says, leaning over the table to clutch at his shoulders, ribs protesting at the pull. “I’m not gay.”
And that, out of everything, is what gets Wayne to put his mug back down and take Eddie seriously. “You ain’t?” Wayne asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide. “You sure? There’s an awful lot of men in leather on your walls.”
Eddie squawks, sinking painfully back into his seat. “That’s Metallica.”
Wayne squints at him. “Is that one of them code words y’all use to stay safe?”
Eddie stands up, chair screeching against the linoleum floor. “It’s a band, Wayne!” Eddie cries, at a loss for what the fuck is happening. “I’m not gay!”
Wayne looks up at him, both eyebrows raised enough to scrunch up his forehead, wrinkling his mostly-bald head. “Well, alright then.”
Eddie stares at him, brain buzzing with even more questions than he’d had before. How long had Wayne thought he was gay? Why? What did he do?
Was he really okay with it?
Eddie turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom without another word. He slams the door and collapses onto his bed, gut squirming with all the thoughts churning in his head.
*** 
Chrissy isn’t surprised when Eddie doesn’t come to school on Monday; she is surprised when Steve does. He’s got bags under his eyes and Robin Buckley super-glued to his side, but he’s still there.
She can’t help the way she runs into his arms, leaving Jeff behind without thought. Steve catches her—he always does, pushing his hands beneath his letterman jacket to grab at her waist and pull her in. They sway there in the middle of the hallway, all their classmates jeering around them.
Chrissy doesn’t care; she’s spent the entire weekend thinking about the crushed look in his eyes as he walked out of the Munson trailer without a backwards glance
“You’re okay?” she asks, face pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.
He runs his hand up and down her back as he responds, “I will be.”
She pulls back to smile up at him and reaches up to brush a floppier-than-usual lock of hair behind his ear. “Walk me to class?”
He links their elbows, and does just that, Jeff and Robin falling into line behind them, Robin prattling on about some movie marathon her and Steve had had at her house over the weekend. 
Chrissy’s just glad he wasn’t alone.
Steve sighs, shoulders slumping as he says, “I’m sorry, Chris,” he says, not looking her way. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”
She stops abruptly enough that Robin stumbles into them and bounces back, cutting off her stream of words mid-babble to squawk at them. Chrissy doesn’t acknowledge her, too busy standing on her tippy toes so she can grab Steve’s shoulders and yank him down to her level.
“You listen to me, Steve Harrington,” she demands, looking into his big, bewildered eyes. “Your mess is my mess, okay?”
He’s still just staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, so she digs her nails in hard and says, “forever,” with as much finality as she can muster.
He keeps staring at her, looking like he’s about ready to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Finally, he says, “come over tonight?” more a demand than a question.
She drops her grip on him and nods, content.
Chrissy doesn’t ask questions when Steve leads her over to Robin in the cafeteria. It’s easy to take that last, final step into social suicide with him at her side. 
They fall into their usual routine that night—they watch trashy TV neither would admit to liking to another living soul, and paint each other’s nails.
The lack of letter writing sits like a dead body between them.
“He won’t tell anyone,” Chrissy says, tightening her grip on his hand when he jerks. Chrissy keeps carefully painting his nails, her favorite pink, not looking up at his face. The color suits him—it’s not fair, but everything does. “He promised.”
Steve doesn’t ask for clarification, they both know who she’s talking about. “You believe him?”
She thinks about that torn, guilty look on Eddie’s face and replies, “I do.”
She finishes his pinkie and settles his hand down on her own knee to dry, knowing from previous experience that if she gives it back, he’ll ruin all her work running his hand through his hair.
“That’s good,” he mutters, looking down at his own hand, tilted so far forward that even when she looks up, his hair’s flopped too far into his face to see his eyes. “It still hurts.”
Chrissy sighs. She’d seen this coming all those months ago when she’d helped pen the first letter. Had seen the writing on the wall like it was she herself that was writing it. But, she’d helped him anyway, hoping to salvage his safety, if not his dignity.
She can only hope she has.
“I know,” she replies, biting her lip against apologies he won’t accept. “But, we’re in this together, okay?”
Steve’s fingers twitch on her leg, but he doesn’t pull away. “Even with you and Jeff?”
“You figured that out, huh?” she asks, and that’s what finally gets him to look up at her with a raised brow, making her laugh.
“I mean, you told me you were going to ask him out,” he starts, before leering over at her. “And you two aren’t exactly subtle.”
“Tell that to Eddie,” she replies, wanting to swallow the name back down once it comes out of her mouth, but it’s too late—it’s already been said.
Steve smiles wryly as he says, “well, he’s not exactly the most observant, is he?”
He has her there. Steve himself, no matter how hard he tried, wasn’t subtle with his affections: the compliments, the stuttering over his words, the blushing. But none of it had done more than make Eddie give Steve suspicious looks, like there was some sort of game he wasn’t in on.
There was, but even without knowing he was playing, he’d still beaten Steve.
“No, he’s really not.”
Steve hums, picking up his hand to check if it’s dry before moving onto painting her nails. He picks his favorite yellow for her, even though he knows it washes her out. She holds out her hand and doesn’t complain.
“I really like him,” Steve says, quietly enough that it’s barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from the TV.
“I know,” she whispers, watching the flickering sadness on his face by the illumination of the Harrington’s big television screen. “I love you. You know that, right?”
He pauses in painting her nails to meet her eyes, smiling for real now. “I know,” he says, stroking the skin on her wrist with the free fingers not holding the nail polish applicator. “And you know what? This was all worth it if I got you out of it.”
And then he just goes back to painting her nails like that wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever said. Eddie Munson can fuck himself; Chrissy’s going to be buried in Steve’s letterman jacket and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
*** 
Eddie doesn’t go to school on Monday. He’s too busy rereading the secret admirer notes—the notes Steve Harrington left him—like if he reads them in the right order, it’ll all snap together in his brain in a way that makes fucking sense.
And it does, sort of. It’s like sorting out a bunch of puzzle pieces after finally knowing what the shape of the puzzle even is. Some parts of the letters just jump out of the page, the longer he looks. In the end, he processes this the way he processes everything: he makes a list.
   Proof that Steve Harrington is my Secret Admirer:
   1. I’m not trying to bully you.
   2. I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you.
   3. I know you don’t like them, but I like sports.
   4. My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors.
   5. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours.
   6. I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty.
   7. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?
   8.   You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’.
A jock afraid of Eddie labeling them as a bully? Check. Favorite color, the same one Steve Harrington had painted his nails all those weeks ago? Check. Rich enough to have a piano that’s just not played? Check. But the most damning part of all: Chrissy was never in Mr. Danver’s class with him last year, but Harrington was. And Chrissy? Her eyes are bright, translucent blue.
The longer he looks at those two incriminating bits of evidence, the stupider he feels. It was never her, and from the looks of it, they hadn’t put much effort into pretending it was. It was always Harrington from that first, forever-lost letter that they’d stuffed in his locker.
And the longer he pours over the letters, the less he can picture Chrissy sprawled on her bed, writing each letter with a shy flourish before spraying it with a puff of her favored scent. No. It’s Harrington, frowning down at the page because words have never come easy to him; it’s Harrington sleeping with Eddie’s letter placed gently beneath his pillow; it’s Harrington who’d made Eddie smile like a schoolgirl with her first crush.
And now that he thinks about it, wasn’t it Harrington whose eye he kept catching from across the cafeteria? Harrington who’d stutter over his words around Eddie, but still told him he was a good storyteller?
Harrington who wanted to go to his show. Chrissy hadn’t even remembered Corroded Coffin’s name. 
Harrington had–of course he had. 
And he can picture that, too now. Harrington in the crowd in his stupid polo with his bright yellow nail polish, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gruff crowd at the Hideout, beautiful brown eyes trained solely on Eddie.
He can still feel the way his pulse had ratcheted up when they were in the bathroom, Harrington between his spread thighs, palms warm against his tender ribs, sucking all the oxygen out of Eddie’s lungs with how close he was.
It’s too much.
“Hello?” Jeff’s mom sounds curt over the phone, already fed up with Eddie calling before he’s even said anything. Eddie doesn’t care; he can’t when he needs Jeff this badly.
“Can I talk to Jeff?” he cries out, hand shaking around the receiver as he listens to her grumble, but she still shouts for her son to come pick up the goddamn phone. 
“Hello?”
Eddie should wait until he’s sure Jeff’s mom is no longer in hearing vicinity, but he can’t, too wound up tight to keep from blurting out, “am I gay?”
There’s a moment of silence that Eddie can barely breathe through before Jeff says, “uhh, Eddie?” in such a bewildered voice that Eddie sort of wants to punch him.
“Yes, yes, it’s me,” he says, words spilling out over each other. “And I’m sorry about what I said, and you’re sorry that you kept secrets from me—we can do that later, Jeff!”
“Uh, oka—”
“Now, am I gay?” he’s panting by the time he’s done, not having taken a single breath during his tirade. He’s waiting for Jeff’s confirmation or denial, but all that comes down the line is his quiet breathing. “Jeff?”
“Uh, shit, we’re doing this? Okay.” Eddie can almost picture the fed-up palm Jeff’s rubbing against his face, as if it’s somehow Eddie’s fault that Jeff is taking so long explaining the squirmy nebulous feeling in Eddie’s gut. “I don’t know man, why do you think you’re gay?”
Then, Eddie does what he should have done all along, and spills everything to Jeff, from the first letter all the way up to Steve Harrington’s bitchy little speech in the quarry as he put himself bodily between Eddie and Jason Carver.
“—and then he kneeled between my knees like that’s a normal, straight guy thing to do and just like, put his hands in my shirt!” Eddie whines, long since having settled onto the cold linoleum of his kitchen floor. “I mean, what the hell?”
“I think you’re forgetting one important fact, dude: Steve’s not straight.”
“Which brings me back to my question!” Eddie replies, trying for breezy and landing on whiny. “Am I gay?”
Jeff hums down the line like he’s really thinking about it this time. “Well, when he was touching you,” he starts, like that already doesn’t have Eddie’s face flaming, “what did you feel?”
Eddie puts himself back into that moment, thighs splayed pressed open by the heavy weight of Harrington’s body, Harrington’s big, warm hands running over his skin, his worried golden brown eyes roving over Eddie’s face.
“I felt like I was on fire,” Eddie whispers, feeling that same heat now pooling lower in his gut.
“…in a good way?” Jeff asks.
Eddie’s brain goes static, full of too much to differentiate good from bad, if that’s a distinction that ever existed at all. Eddie makes a questioning noise in his throat, knees twitching restlessly where they’re crossed in front of him.
“Okay, okay, uhh—hmm,” Jeff hums across the line. “Did you want to move closer or away?”
Eddie closes his eyes and thinks, imagining that trapped, warm, overwhelming feeling of being caged in by Harrington’s body. “Both?”
Jeff hmms again, clearly trying to think it through. Eddie can’t blame him—this is the most confused he’s been in his entire life, and Jeff doesn’t even have an all-access pass to his brain to try to pick answers out of–not that it’s currently doing Eddie much good.
“Do you want to try kissing a guy?” Jeff asks. “I’d do it, if it was for you, dude.”
Eddie’s nose wrinkles, lips puckering in disgust, “ew, you’re like my brother.”
Jeff laughs at him and replies, “so you don’t want to, not because I’m a guy, but because we’re like brothers? Sounds pretty gay, dude.”
“Oh.”
Jeff doesn’t say anything; he’s always been good at sensing when Eddie just needs a minute to think. But this time, he doesn’t think a minute will cut it, so he continues with a, “hey Jeff?”
“Hmm?”
“I really did mean it, you know.” He squeezes the phone tighter against the side of his face, like that will help his sincerity ring down the line. “I am sorry, and we should talk about it, but I can’t yet.”
Jeff still doesn’t reply, but his breathing is steady and sure down the line, settling Eddie’s anxious heart down to a little flutter.
“Is that okay?” Eddie asks.
“Yeah, dude,” Jeff replies gruffly. “So, you’ll still call me?”
Eddie smiles. He’s missed Jeff, is the thing. They’ve been so distant lately, and no matter how well Eddie and Gareth get along, he’s no Jeff. “Or accost you at school, whichever comes first.”
That makes Jeff laugh; Eddie lets the sound warm him. “Okay, but I’m serious about the kissing thing!” Jeff replies, “Come over and I can plant one right on y—”
Eddie hangs up on his friend, feeling more himself than he has in days. No matter what happens, he has Jeff.
PART 17
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sahisan · 4 months ago
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✧ i am, we are
scaramouche x female reader | social media au.
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✦ synopsis: you are a solo artist, who first appeared a few years ago with your debut song “it's snowing like it's the end of the world.” which you wrote and composed while dealing with mental health problems, trying to convert them into your passion – music. in the end, the song became very popular, resulting in you swiftly gaining audience. yet, unbeknownst for your growing and waiting followers, you hadn't released any more music in the following weeks, months or years. you simply disappeared from every social platform. that was, until, finally, you showed signs of life on twitter, years later.
✦ started on/ended on: 19.07.24/23.10.24.
✦ status: finished.
✦ genre/tags: female reader. (mini) social media au. music artist au. not an idol au. this smau is japan based. fluff. scara is in a band and reader is a solo artist. reader had (has?) mental health issues. bullying mentioned. swearing. ooc ofc. protective/caring scara (he cares just so much (not overprotective tho)).
✦ notices: this smau doesn't have any set timeline for the events taking place in it, thus, it would be better for me to say that it's a collection of events, or a mini smau.
✦ author note: hi. i lied. the rainy tapestry smau wasn't in fact my last smau ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ. so... i just thought that why would i have a smau rotting away in my gallery since august 2023 and i couldn't help myself, so here it is. it's very very very small, much smaller than you would expect lol. the timeline is awful, and the timestamps mostly don't matter, but if there's a timestamp then i was too lazy to edit it out. also, the name of the debut song (chap 1) is taken from a real song "it's snowing like it's the end of the world" by krobak, as well as the name of the smau is taken from a song "i am, we are" by guiano, and a lot of songs from the smau will be taken from real songs so yeah. im a music maniac pls don't ask.
✦ chapters.
1. comeback.
2. obviousness.
3. they're real?
4. couple goals.
5. sleep? no, music.
6. featuring... who?
7. love summarisation!
8. vacation.
9. "gave in to dreams." part 1.
9.5 "gave in to dreams." part 2.
10. inexperienced.
11. surprise.
12. stuck.
13. "interconnected".
14. 1%?
15. together.
16. aftermath.
17. again and longer.
18. live².
19. yummy.
20. "nightlife" or about old times.
21. winter, hokkaido and concepts.
22. will you?
✦ bonuses !
0.1. "gave in to dreams." tracklist + playlist.
0.2. "interconnected" tracklist + playlist.
0.3. "meltdown" ("interconnected" tour live album) + playlist.
0.4. "nigtlife" ep.
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✦ taglist: closed.
— @alatusorrow @scarasbaby @raineyun @1nakitofan @ichcocat @heusalettle @animeobsessed56 @samyayaya @state-of-grac3 @lily-lmao @ciellez @moonjellyfishie @scaraenthusiast1 @aruatsu @slu7 @sweatydazeshark-blog @shotovhs @kosumos @keiiqq @xionri @trulyylee @lalalaloveallmydays @nomnom21 @strangeauthorrascalfreak @starringyau @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @piercingheart @ririkamomobamiswife @anqelkoz @lxkeeeee @minhosprettywife @tikitsune @shutingstar @livelaughlovekuni @tired-jaz @naosh1 @usagiarchive @diemdurantia @v3ntis-lyr3 @rifran
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nymphea0 · 4 months ago
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Until Death My Love
Part 4 (END).
Yandere husband x Wife Reader
Warning : mention of fire, chase scenes, and some mature content, mention of sleeping drug.
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Please read the warning before you start to reading this story, might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. I think to make a special chapter what do you think? Should i make it?. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋
Word Count Around : 1679 Word
Story Part 1 : Until Death My Love
Story Part 2 : Until Death My Love
Story Part 3 : Until Death My Love
.
.
.
'Brooklyn, New York.'
It's been a month since you ran away from your house and your husband.
You admit that you are very scared, you believe all of Roana's words that said that Alex, your husband, would kill you because you were caught entering his secret room.
You always knew that Alex loved you very much, but you didn't know that he had even noticed you during school, somehow you felt like he was stalking you behind his friendly smile.
Picture of yourself that were taken secretly, the body of someone who was quite familiar with you. You can't believe that Alex did that, your husband who you always thought was a normal man who was successful working as a coal company CEO turned out to be just a disguise as a mafia associate, you feel like he has deceived you.
.
.
This morning you will start your work as a library cleaning staff in the corner of Brooklyn, New York.
The city is quite crowded, the population is quite dense, and it is very easy to find work here. While cleaning the library bookshelves, sometimes you think about going back to Alex, your husband, maybe if you didn't follow Roana's words, you might be relaxing at home right now.
But you are not ready for the risk of what Alex will do if he finds out that you know his little secret.
But the rice has become porridge, you can't turn back what has happened.
The Graze Library, or more like an old bookstore, is deserted and the salary you get is not that big, but at least it is enough to support yourself.
.
It's been 1 month and 3 weeks that you have been in Brooklyn, you always come home late, because your working hours start from morning to noon, then continue with the evening until 9 pm.
Through the wet asphalt cobblestone roads due to the rain, you don't know .... since when you feel like someone is watching you.
Only the sound of rats and your footsteps can be heard on the quiet streets towards your shabby and cheap apartment.
'Tap'
'Tap'
'Tap'
Trying to avoid puddles of water that could make your shoes wet.
Just as you arrive in front of the door of your apartment building, you hear the sound of a trash can falling.
Either because you are paranoid or you are too shocked, you immediately look back only to see there is only a rat and a trash can that has fallen.
'Cit'
'cit'
'cit'
Sighing in relief that it was just a sewer rat busy looking for food.
Opening the door of the apartment building and entering the building. Walking slowly while greeting the male receptionist who is busy playing with his cellphone with a friendly smile.
Entering the elevator slowly, and pressing the button for the 6th floor.
'Ting'
The elevator door opens, you walk slowly in the dim hallway of this cheap apartment building. Even though this building has 8 floors, you can't help but feel afraid to live in this building.
This building rents out apartments at a cheap price, because this building has entered the criteria for an unsuitable building. But what can you do if you only have a little money, no one will rent an apartment building for 45$ for a whole year.
Stopping in front of a wooden door with peeling paint, unlocking the door and entering your small apartment.
'Krieet'
Even the sound from the door was more terrifying than your financial condition.
After making sure the door was locked, you walked tiredly to the leather sofa that was even torn to shreds. That night you slept so soundly that you didn't even notice the bouquet of flowers in your bedroom.
.
.
That morning ... you couldn't help but worry about what you saw, a bouquet of primroses, fresh flowers tied with a white ribbon.
Looking around the apartment you couldn't help but worry who would even dare to enter someone else's house without the owner's permission?
Primrose or people call it primula flower, a flower with various colors.... has a fairly romantic philosophy, namely passion, love and loyalty.
Who in this world even dares to give it in someone's bedroom? Does the person who gave this intend to seduce you?.
You really want to throw away the flower, but your heart says otherwise, the flower is too beautiful to be thrown in the trash.
.
That afternoon you worked as usual, you rested and ate a chocolate bar as a filler for your stomach that was screaming for food.
Sitting relaxing under a willow tree, the graze library is on the corner of our Brooklyn, close to the forests. Looking at the river rippling slowly following the flow of the ships that passed by.
After resting, you continued working, tonight you came home above 9 o'clock! . You didn't know that the person who was supposed to be on the night shift today was playing truant and you had no choice but to replace him at work.
It was past 12 midnight, midnight .... a pretty good night for people who want to commit crimes.
That night, Aunt Irene, the old woman who slept in the library said to spend the night in the library, it's not good for a young woman like you to go out in the middle of the day.
But you are stubborn, you want to sleep soundly in your dusty room.
.
With strong determination you walk faster than usual, passing the willow trees, only accompanied by the sound of mice and also dim street lights.
You feel very watched, you feel like someone is watching you.
Then at the end of the road, you see so many people gathered in front of your apartment building, there you see a beam of fire that shoots wildly in your apartment building.
With quick steps you head towards the crowd. Ask one of the random people there
"Excuse me, sorry to bother you, why is this building on fire?"
"Miss, are you a resident of this building? If so, it's too bad, a few hours ago there were some people in black suits who forcibly bombed this building, who knows what their motives were, but the police and security forces are still investigating it"
You could only be pensive hearing that, walking unsteadily to the people who were evacuating, you looked around your apartment building which was crowded with people, many firefighters were busy putting out the fire.
You looked sadly at your shabby apartment building that had been completely devoured by fire.
Where will you sleep tonight. Planning to go back to the library only to stop frozen.
There you saw Alex, standing not far from you, looking at you with longing eyes.
You panicked with 1001 ways to avoid danger, you ran away from Alex, who of course he chased you.
.
.
Running as hard as you could down the muddy cobblestone streets of Brooklyn was not an easy thing.
You could hear Alex calling your name. You just keep running and running, you can hear clearly, Alex is chasing you with his men.
Are you going to die? Does Alex want to kill you because you know his little secret.
Your breath is very heavy, you can feel that your heart is beating as fast as you are pumping adrenaline to get away from Alex, only to feel your hand being pulled so hard by Alex, your husband!.
"Caught you, my love"
Alex wraps one arm around your waist, the other holds your chin.
"Are you satisfied hmm? Is my love satisfied playing running around?"
You don't know what to do, you can only be silent and frozen.
"Why my dear? Why did you leave me? Did I do something wrong?"
"Answer me love?!".
Alex with his hands that are holding your chin tighter, stares into your eyes sharply.
With a very deep longing and passion, Alex kissed your lips very aggressively, the kiss was full of longing, and thirsty for touch. His lips claimed your lips.
His tongue played with yours, releasing your wild kisses, Alex looked at you who was in his arms.
His leather-gloved hand touched your lips which were swollen from Alex's kiss.
You don't know why but slowly but surely you feel your body limp in Alex's arms.
Damn, you realized too late that Alex slipped sleeping pills into your previous kiss.
Your vision blurred, you could only see Alex smirking at you, and finally you fell unconscious in Alex's arms.
.
.
Alex, your husband, he has been watching you his little wife for 1 month, letting you live in this shabby apartment, he really wants to pick you up by force and shower you with luxury and not poverty, how can his love live in poverty, he is not willing.
Following his father's advice, Alex let you enjoy your simple life.
In a shabby and old apartment, working in a library that was even deserted, always eating instant food.
His heart ached so much, seeing his wife live so miserably, but he had to restrain himself, just think of this as a lesson for yourself that you can't live without him, his wife who is so weak and needs protection so much, his stray cat who really likes to find trouble.
His heart ached even more when you smiled kindly at the male receptionist whose face wasn't even that big, how dare you, his little wife, make him jealous, so he would burn down that shabby apartment, he had enough of restraining himself, he had enough of seeing you live in poverty.
Alex looked at you who was currently sleeping soundly in Alex's mansion in New York City.
You were sleeping very peacefully, wearing only his shirt, one of your hands was tied by gold-colored handcuffs combined with a small chain wrapped around the handcuffs.
Walking slowly but surely, Alex sat beside you who was sleeping, brushing your hair that covered your face from his view.
Gently stroking your face, kissing your forehead lovingly, then your cheek, then your nape, until biting your neck affectionately which currently left a love bite mark.
That night your eyes opened, Alex claimed you as his, claiming his very naughty wife, that night, only witnessed by the moonlight shining through the window, illuminating 2 people who were busy wrestling in bed in the pleasures of the world.
.
.
How many hours is it? You don't know what time it is, Alex your husband, busy making love to you, busy moaning erotically in your ear.
Busy making sure you are pregnant with his child. Alex, a man who always holds back, he doesn't hold back tonight.
With his possessions united with you, and you who can no longer think rationally, can only follow the rhythm of your husband's game.
That night Alex made love to you like an animal in mating season, very brutal and did not give you a break to breathe.
"Haah .... must make you pregnant yeah ?? My darling must be pregnant ... nghh that way .... you will not run away from me anymore"
Alex held your body that was already limp under his body, kissing your lips passionately Alex said.
"Rest my love, very naughty, my very naughty wife ahh you make me crazy about you my darling, don't expect you can get away from me"
"Even until death ...you are mine..love"
.
.
.
*Source image: pinterest
©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story . Project Dark Romance Story 1.
Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.
@snowflakes666 @athena-roy @ayoulookingfine @sirenetheblogger @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr
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a-shade-of-blue · 3 months ago
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Hi everyone! I want to spotlight here a few palestinian gofundme campaigns with low funds. I've messaged and been in regular contact with all of them, and I appreciate any support you can give them.
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Mohammed & his 5 siblings (@ahmed0khalil)
Mohammed is only 19 years old, but the fate of his family's survival now rests on his shoulders as he fundraise to evacuate his family of 8 to safety. He has 5 siblings: Fathi (23), Aya (21), Anas (15), Abdullah (11) and Ahmed (6). Fathi is blind and suffering from coronary artery disease; eleven-year-old Abdullah is autistic and does not understand what is happening; and Ahmed is only 6 years old, a small child who had barely started kindergarten when this current genocide happened. Now, instead of asking questions about how the world works, Ahmed is asking his brother if they will survive, or if they will just become "a number that appears on the TV screen in the evening."
These children have witnessed no fewer than 6 massacres, they have seen people being blown to pieces, they have lost friends to the bombings, they have seen people bleeding to death around them while they couldn't even call the ambulance because there was no connection. Mohammed was once so seriously injured in a bombing that he couldn't walk, but had to lie bleeding on the ground for 2 hours before help came.
These are children who just want to survive. What little food there is in Gaza is very expensive, the water is polluted, and there are all kinds of infectious diseases, and that is on top of all the bombings they have to face. They are just children, please help them out.
This campaign has been shared by 90-ghost.
Only €2,057 raised of €50,000 target! (4.1% of target)
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Mahmoud's 17 family members (@mahmoufamilia)
Mahmoud has 17 family members trapped in Gaza right now, including no fewer than 5 children. The house his family was staying at was bombed while they were sleeping inside it, and Mahmoud almost lost his entire family that night. Several relatives were killed in that bombing, including a baby who were not even one month old yet. His other family members sustained serious injury from the bombing, and the family exhausted every means to get Mahmoud's sister Tasnim and her 6-month-old baby out of Gaza as they had the most severe injuries.
However, the rest of Mahmoud's 17 family members are still trapped in Gaza right now, including Tasnim's 2-year-old daughter, who suffered from first degree burns from the bombing. They have narrowly escaped death no fewer than 5 times now, and have woken up to dead bodies next to them when the IOF dropped bombs on the tent next to where they were staying.
Mahmoud’s campaign is vetted by association. Mahmoud is @hazempalestine's friend, see post here for proof. @hazempalestine is vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and is listed as #281 on the verified fundraiser list by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi.
Only $426 CAD raised of $80,000 target! (0.5% of target)
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Ahmed's 12 Family Members (@ahmedpalestine)
Ahmed is from Gaza but he is in Belgium right now. He has 12 family members (including 6 children!) trapped in Gaza and he is trying to evacuate them. His family was in Al-Mawasi when Israel dropped the 2000 pound bombs on tents housing displaced families, causing 20 tents to disintegrate, killing at least 40 people and injuring more than 60, and leaving craters at least 9-meters deep.
Ahmed could not contact with his family when he woke up to the news of the bombing, and I can't imagine how scared and worried he must have been, not knowing if his family had survived or not. He told me that he managed to get in touch with his family eventually, and that they are alive, they are alive. They originally moved to Al-Mawasi because Israel designated it as a 'safe zone', yet Israel still bombed the displaced families staying there. Where are they supposed to go now? There is no safe place in Gaza, and they have 6 children with them...
Ahmed's campaign has been promoted by Bilal-Salah0. Bilal's campaign is listed as #132 on the verified fundraiser spreadsheet vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi. Also vetted by association. Ahmed is a friend of @/hazempalestine (#281 on the verified fundraiser list by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi.). See post here.
Only €3,144 raised of €55,000 target! (5.7% of target)
I have been messaging with all of them and they are really lovely people. Please share/reblog and donate if you are able to! You don't have to donate a lot if you can't, every bit helps!!
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rageserenity · 9 months ago
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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heaartzzforcupidzz · 8 months ago
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Hi, this is my first time requesting, and I had an idea. Could you do a reader x dogday x catnap where the reader used to live with catnap and dogday when they were human, but when they mysteriously disappeared, they escaped from play co but came back years later to find out what happened to them. Please and thank you also sorry if this is a lot.
I hope this satisfies you, love.
“You’re back..?”
Relationship(s): catnap x player!reader x Dogday 🔞
Warning(s): angst, fluff, smut (in that order.)
your fingers grazed the cement, it had dried blood stains on it , here and there. you see the toys took in consideration how you taught them how to clean up thoroughly. all the blood from “The Hour Of Joy” was almost all cleaned up. it was a miracle you decided to escape before that day but you doubt that Catnap and Dogday would have let you die.
you finally came to the playcare, where you had been assigned to work your first day. you smiled softly, remembering the events of that day. you had been assigned to be either catnaps helper or Dogdays. but you being you, you asked for them both and the higher ups didn’t see why not? You’d help them with the kids, you’d help them with cooking, you’d help bathe them, and anything else they wanted you to do. Dogday warmed up to you from the moment you arrived. it took catnap atleast 9 months to get used to you and even begin to talk to you. when he’d be taped by the higher ups, you usually had to be in the room for him to even say anything else besides about “his savior, the prototype.” experiment 1006, you believe.
you had made it to this jail like place. it looked disgusting. the jail cells bars were rusty and had dried blood. Some cell doors on the ground. you came across one cell and your heart stopped. Dogday. Dogday was.. alive? and where was his legs? your body reacted before you could think and you unlocked him from his shackles. you hurriedly carried him away while the critters were just now noticing he was gone when one came for a quick “snack”. you made your way through the tunnels and made your way to the old operation room. Dogday had been out cold as you laid him down on the desk and began to work.
Dogday opened his eyes, finding his spare legs attached to his body. he looked around, his head still abit woozy. he sat up and sighed, happily. his eyes locked on you, taking off your bloodied gloves. if he wasn’t so damn happy right now, he’d cry. he got up and hugged you, wrapping his hands around your waist, his tail wagging. “Angel!”
Dogday had slowly but surely cried into your chest as you gently pet him. he hadn’t seen you since a couple days before “The Hour Of Joy.” He thought you had.. no he wouldn’t think it again. he looked up at you with tears and his nose running. he sniffed and sat up “you’re back?.. this isn’t a bad dream, is it?” You shook your head as Dogday smiled at you. he kissed you sweetly before pulling you into a monster sized hug. “I missed you, Angel.”
you two had begun to walk around the complex. you had a moment of weakness and whispered to Dogday, “where’s catnap? is he safe?” Dogday only looked at you before he took a hardened breath. “that.. thing is not catnap.” You didn’t quite understand but you figured it was a hard subject and didn’t ask anymore. you wish you did though, when you saw him.
“D—Dogday, who is that?” you asked as you had begun to back away. Dogday reacted before he said anything and he grabbed you, running as fast as he could with his new found legs. He had you over his shoulder as you watched catnap chase after you two. he looked sick, evil, and .. shocked? you guys had ended up in a dead end and he had you both cornered.
Catnap had circled around you both for about 8 minutes, you’d say before he came closer to you. Dogday had protectively pulled you behind him. Catnap looks at him and with one quick swipe , he threw Dogday into the wall. leaving you open prey. you waited for impact, only to find the cat staring at you. you could swear his eyes started to soften and his eyes began to drip tears. you knew he missed you , you left and escapes without the two knowing and then “The Hour Of Joy” happened. you came closer, cautiously. you put your hands on his face and gently rubbed back and forth (he was leaning down). he let out soft purrs, seemingly relaxing for the first time since that day.
Catnap had gone back to his “bigger body” form much like Dogday. He had apologized to Dogday as you had forced him to. Dogday said it would take time but they would get there, eventually. you all sat and conversated, mainly you telling about your life. before long, you were against the wall. Catnap kissing your lips, his tongue slimy and down your throat as Dogday finger fucked you open. he knew they were both too big for you, but you wanted to try so.. no harm there, right?
Dogday held your legs open as catnap thrusted into your tight heat brutally. feeling how your hot velvety walls clinged at his lengthy cock when he tried to pull out. “good fuckin’ girl.. so wet f’me.” Catnaps words slurred as he pushed abit more inside. he looked down at you, seeing your face contorted in both pleasure and some pain. he waited for a moment more before he picked up his brutal assault on your pretty pussy. Dogday whispered sweet words to you as he brushed the tears off your face. soon enough, catnap came inside you, thrusting one more time to push his cum deeper. you let out a pleasured whimper as your head fell back. Dogday smiles as he kisses your lips, waiting for catnap to pull out completely.
Dogday kissed the inner parts of your thighs. he then reached your heat and took in the sight. your clit swollen, pussy convulsing around nothing, and the pink look it had. Dogday chuckled as he placed butterfly kisses to your clit. catnap held you down as Dogday teased you. he eventually wrapped his own hands around your thighs. his tongue came out hot, heavy, and moist. you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your throat. he fucked his tongue into you, ruthlessly. he ate you liked he’d been starved for years and he couldn’t live without the taste. he was humping his cock against the dead plush pathetically, as you could see the pre-cum gushing out his discolored tip. catnap watched the scene unfold, stroking his own cock as he watched.
soon enough, Dogday was fucking into you like a mad dog. his balls heavy with unshed cum that he just wanted to dump into you. make sure you have his pups, not any kittens. Dogday growled as he bit the side of your neck, not enough to hurt, but to leave a mark as he thrusted a few more times pumping his love into you. catnap had been stroking himself to the pace Dogday had set and he had came on your face and hair as soon as Dogday did. you? well, you had came a total of 4 times and this was just their seconds. you sighed as you watched them switch positions again, catnap opening your leg to show your pretty glistening hole.
A/N: hi! Sorry this took so long. I hope this was good! if you wanna be tagged when I post, just let me know! also for the others that requested, I promise I’m working on it.
TAGS: @2faced-fairy
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songbirdseung · 9 months ago
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you again? / park jongseong
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synopsis: fate loves bringing you and jay together, specifically in an airport with same flights and destinations.
pairing: idol!jay x non-idol!yn
first encounter / 8 years old
"honey, help your dad with the bags." it was that time again, your biannual family trip. Summer was here and it was time to unwind and relax.
you hopped out of the car holding your little black cat plushie and ran to the carts near the airport entrance then brought it back to your father. "thank you sweetie" he pats your head and starts unloading the trunk.
as you went through the airport check in, security, and duty free you greeted everyone with a wave and hello, your mom holding your free hand with a smile on her face as she looked at you. "you little sunshine, you really like making friends?" she asked as you reached your gate; you nod enthusiastically.
your eyes still scan the airport with the same glimmer of curiosity and excitement, even if you've been to that airport more than your little fingers could count. you take in the summer decorations and in the midst of that, your eyes land on a boy who you think is the same age as you. taking in his features and glance down at your cat plushie, picking it up so it could be at the same level as the boy's face. you smile and see a resemblance. "mommy, look that boy looks like my kitty cat." she agrees and teases you about your little crush. "i didn't say that" you whine and pout. "oh yeah, if you don't have a crush on him, go talk to him" she chuckles and nudges her husband as they both watch you walk over to the boy.
"hi, im yn. what's your name?" you say as you sit next to him. he pays you no attention as he continues to play with his nintendo ds. his dad notices your presence and gives you a warm smile, he then removes the gadget out of his son's hands. before he could say anything, his dad points in your direction. finally, his eyes meet yours. "she asked you for your name, son" poor boy is so confused and wonders how long you have been sitting next to him. "im..jay"
second encounter / 9 years old
here you were again, at the airport getting ready to go. you were sitting at the airport's many food courts with your parents when you saw him again. even your own parents were shocked when they realized you still remember the boy you met last year, a boy you only talked to for 25 minutes. placing your hot chocolate which would now be forgotten as you ran 4 tables down to where he was.
"jay? my black cat jay? that's you right?" you were met with another warm smile from his parents and a confused stare from jay. "i met you last year and you probably don't remember me but that doesn't matter, it's nice to see you again. you ramble and tug at his long sleeve in excitement. his dad offers you a chair and helps you get up. "i'm sorry about her" your mom says from behind you. only to be reassured that it was fine and they love the interactions.
after jay's parents offered your parents to sit with them and let the two children have fun. (more like you bothering jay for the time being). there was a good 30 minutes that went by when the airport was announcing your flight was boarding. you all bid your goodbyes and as you were leaving, you noticed a plushie next to jay, it was your black cat plush you gave him last year.
third encounter / 9 years old
it wasn't a long wait to see him again, because in a few months. you met him again. this time, he wasn't so reluctant to see or talk to you. this time, he was actually having a great time playing games with you. so much fun that his parents were filming the two of you so later on the plane his parents would tease him and say he has a crush on you. oh, and your parents would do the same.
"isn't it funny how we only see each other at the airport and never anywhere else?"
"yeah, but we meet every year, so i'm not worried to not see you and having fun"
you two innocent souls did not know what would be happening next.
fourth encounter / 18 years old
you sighed for the nth time because you were sitting in the same uncomfortable airport benches. your friend decided it was better to arrive at the airport 4 hours earlier than boarding time. your apartment in seoul was only 20 minutes away from the airport, but for some reason you were here at the airport earlier than you wanted.
to kill time, you were walking around the airport's duty free. distracting yourself from the excruciating time wait. while you were doing so, you noticed a bunch of cameras when you reached back to your gate. you said whatever and walked past to explore the airport you have already been in.
"why can't we go back to our gate, we are definitely not going to have any seats left" your best friend whined as she tried to drag you back to the gate. "who else is going to arrive when our flight is in 3 hours?"
after a few minutes of bickering, you decided to sit down and give your legs and feet a break from all that walking. going back to the gate, you scanned the camera crew and what they were filming, you took notice of seven good looking guys, assuming they were actors or singers. you shrugged and minded your own business and sat back in the seat you and your best friend sat earlier.
putting your headphones on and opening your laptop to watch a movie to kill time. what you failed to notice was one of those seven boys looking at you. jay, noticed you ever since you walked past them the first time. in his eyes and mind, you looked very familiar, despite not seeing each other in 9 years, he remembered you.
debating whether or not to approach you or not, was it okay? did you even remember him. it has been 9 years and you both grown up so much. shortly after, you sensed a person sitting next to you. typically, your younger self would have greeted them but now that you were a young adult, you realized and found out that not all people are nice. so, you sat there in silence, still scrolling on your phone with your headphones in. only for that peace and serenity to be taken away from you when the person next to you took one of your headphones off. "you're not even going to say hi?" it was jay, your black cat.
fifth encounter / 20 years old
today was a little weird. you always found it easy to get through the airport with no problems. but today, you had time to find parking, to get through a crowd that usually was never there. upon reaching the entrance, you noticed so many girls holding up their phones and waiting on someone. you shrug your shoulders, thinking it's just another celebrity going overseas for a work schedule.
either way, you got to your gate and sat at the waiting area near your gate. sipping on your coffee as you replied back to the "safe travels" text you got from your family and friends. as you were watching tiktoks, you stumbled upon a video of jay and his group. it's been two years since the last time you saw him and both of you didn't even think of getting each other's numbers or social medias. but then again you did not want to distract him or get him in trouble if ever.
for some reason, you kind of wished that fate would bring you together again, since it loves to only let you meet him in the airport. so, you were looking out for him.
right on cue, he walks through the airport with his crew. then something hits you, what if you see him and he sees you then he doesn't remember you because he does meet to many people a day and what if you wave at him and thinks you're a fan? so many what if fill you mind that when he finally sees you, you're not looking.
but luckily, you again, have the same flight to germany. he splits from the group and decides to sit next to you despite the manager calling out to him. "you look like you're deep in thought yn" you whip your head, and he chuckles at your shocked expression. "oh, c'mon we always meet at the airport, why you still shocked i'm here?" you nudge him in the shoulder and explain your side.
it felt nice talking to jay, even though you two were both yappers, your dynamic somehow fit together like pieces of a puzzle. "do you still have that cat i gave you when we were 8?"
"you shouldn't be worried of me not remembering you, because that plushie sleeps next to me on my bed."
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imsobadatnicknames2 · 3 months ago
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Been working on this for a bit: Ensam Själ. It's a set of tools and procedures for Mörk Själ, my soulslike hack of Mörk Borg.
In it you will find a 2d10-based Yes/No oracle with a chance for random events, a variety of dark fantasy-themed spark tables, and a set of specific procedures for exploration using these tools.
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It takes inspiration from a lot of different solo and GM-less rules, such as Mythic GM Emulator, Conjectural Roleplaying GM Emulator, Game Master’s Apprentice, Solitary Defilement, FORGE, and my very own Pocket Delver (If you've played Pocket Delver, the last set of random tables should look pretty familiar)
As always, licensed CC-BY-SA 4.0, so feel free to poach and steal any bits and pieces you like from it.
It costs $5 USD, but there are 10 community copies available, and I will be adding a new community copy for each sale made. Also, for the next two months it will be available at a discounted price for everyone who already owns the full version of Mörk Själ.
Plus. If community copies run out and you still want a free copy because you can't or just don't feel like paying for it... you can just message me about it, and I'll be more than happy to give you a download code.
Anyway hope y'all enjoy it :)
As a little demonstration of how it works, I will copy the full example of play I included at the end of the document under the cut.
Example of Play
Here is a demonstration of solo play applying the procedures contained in this document.
After randomizing character creation, our chosen undead is Abigeal of Kingfisher Thicket, a Battlemage with a missing foot and vague memories of being betrayed by an old ally.
Abilities: Strength +2, Agility 0, Toughness -1, Presence +2
HP: 5
Inventory: Shortsword, Fur Armor, Lantern, 3 Flasks of oil.
Inventory slots: 4/13
Stamina: 9
Spells: The Fortress, Merciful Sunlight
Her main goal is to track down and punish the old ally who betrayed her, who is...
Roll on NPC spark table: 64 – Arrogant, 16 – Thief
... an arrogant thief by the name of Ciannán the Grinning.
Rolling on the Area spark table (22, 26) we find out that she begins her quest in a flooded prison. I’ve decided that the enemies for this area are: Nuisance: Sewer Rat – Normal: Ghost – Tough: Wraith – Miniboss: Amphibian Shaman – Boss: Giant Sewer Rat.
Let’s generate a room:
Roll for number of exits: 6 - three exits. Roll for cardinal directions: 2 – NE, 4 – SE, 8 – NW. I chose not to roll for exit type for the time being and assume the three of them are horizontal
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Roll on room content tables: Encounter: 11 – Nothing. Loot: 8 – Weapon (Roll on weapons table to determine weapon: Femur) . Room feature: 9 – Nothing.
Standing on top of a small ledge, Abigeal looks upon the rest of the flooded room, an abandoned guard post in an ancient, now flooded prison.
Is there a light source in the room? (2d6 on Soul Oracle: 6 – Yes) Luckily, the light that filters from the cracks on the ceiling above is enough to see clearly.
Is the water shallow enough to walk across it? (2d10 on Soul Oracle: 4 – “Yes, and...”) The water is shallow enough to reach all of the doors walking, and barely deep enough to get your feet wet. Due to the Yes, and Response, Doom is increased by 1.
Abigeal ignores the femur floating in the water, instead going to check the coffer beside the old guard table.
Is there anything of value in the coffer? (2d10+1 on Soul Oracle: 12 – No, but...)
There is nothing in the coffer, but when she crouched down to check it she managed to spot something in the water under the table.
Is it a key? (2d10+1 on Soul Oracle: 8 - Yes)
Abigeal grabs the key she spotted under the table, and then finally decides to check the door to the Northeast.
Room generation:
Roll for number of exits: 2 – None, the room has no doors other than the one she came in through.
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Roll on room content tables:
Encounter: 16 – 1d3 tough enemies. Loot: 11 – Nothing. Room feature: 12 – Nothing.
Upon entering the flooded guard barracks, Abigeal suddenly finds herself facing a Wraith. As she wasn’t making any particular effort to conceal herself, she’s spotted almost immediately.
Roll for Wraith HP (4d8): 21
Initiative: Test Agility DR12. 19 - Success, Abigeal acts first.
Knowing she can’t defeat the Wraith head-on, Abigeal tries to use her Merciful Sunlight spell to blind it.
Spellcasting: Test Presence DR12. 18 – Success.
Casting Merciful Sunlight and aiming the bright light directly at the wraith’s eyes, Abigeal manages to blind it for 8 combat rounds (There is no set effect for blinding, but I’ve decided the DR to avoid the wraith’s attacks has been reduced to 6)
The wraith tries to hit Abigeal, but she easily avoids its touch and counterattacks with her shortsword, just barely managing to hit its almost incorporeal form. She decides to spend one Stamina to add one damage die to her attack, hitting with 2d4 for 7 damage.
I will omit the full play-by-play narration of the encounter, but Abigeal manages to defeat the wraith after seven rounds of combat, with her HP reduced to 4 and her Stamina Reduced to 3, and earns 250 souls. She rolls her weapon’s Usage Die, but luckily it comes up 3, so her weapon isn’t damaged. However, when rolling her armor’s UD it comes up 1, so her armor receives one level of wear and its UD is reduced from d8 to d6.
After stopping to catch her breath, she recovers 2 Stamina, and decides to examine the room.
Is there any container for guards’ belongings still intact?
(2d10+1 on Soul Oracle: 3 – Yes, And...)
There is not only one, but several barrels and coffers containing the former guards’ belongings. Among them, she finds 2 bombs, a net, 20 ft of rope, and a spear. Due to the Yes, and Response, Doom is increased by 1.
Abigeal takes the spear and the two bombs and adds them to her inventory.
She then heads back to the guard post, now taking the door to the southeast.
Roll for number of exits: 3 – One exit. Roll for cardinal directions: 3 – East. Roll for exit type: 3 – Horizontal.
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Roll on room content tables:
Encounter: 11 – Nothing. Loot: 16 – Random scroll. Room feature: 14 – Major obstacle.
Rolling on a spark table to determine what the obstacle is, I decided to roll Verb + Subject
31 – Increase. 16 - Adversity
Towards the center of this room, the water level is much higher respective to the floor, making it impossible to traverse to the other side walking.
Is the scroll on the side of the room Abigeal can reach on foot? (2d10+2 on Soul Oracle: 11 – Random Event)
A random event occurs. Before determining what it is, I resolve the yes/no question by looking at the result of the higher of the two dice. As it’s an even number (8), the answer is yes, the scroll is floating on the side of the room Abigeal can reach on foot.
Roll for event type: 12 – Reveal
Something is revealed to not be what it initially seemed. I decided to roll Adjective + Subject and...
21 – Ancient. 12 – Ally.
Rather serendipitous.
I decided to interpret this as... she suddenly remembers this was an important place for her and Ciannán, back in the old times before the undead curse.
Is this where he betrayed her? (2d10+2 on Soul Oracle: 21 – No, and...)
This doesn’t seem to be the case, quite the opposite, in fact. Due to the No, and Response, Doom is reduced by 1.
Is this where they met? (2d10+1 on Soul Oracle: 10 – Yes, but...)
She recognizes this as the place they met, but she can barely remember anything from that encounter other than the place itself.
I’m going to stop playing here for the time being, closing this example of play on what I think is the most interesting note so far.
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prxnce · 7 months ago
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The Love Letter Save V.2 from: Prxnce
finally... its been just over a year since v.1 and just about 2 years since i started crafting this what is the love letter save? the love letter save is... a love letter to my childhood which mainly revolved around the sims *shocker* and various shows/movies etc. this save file embraces the idea that the sims 4 takes place on an alternate timeline... combining and altering the storylines from previous sims installments. i brought a TON of families from all previous sims games with some of their original lore and some twists of my own.
in the save bella goth is still missing... or she was... the beakers have a test subject, except it's claire ursine's love child with jared frio in this timeline. the caliente sisters are still up to no good! and the monty's still hate the capp family! and sooooo much more... i want to give a special thanks to LifeSimmer, who permitted me to use the Fenderson family in this save. i have been playing the sims since i was 9 years old and all these years later that family is just as special to my inner sims child as the goth family.
i made separate posts for pictures of the towns which you can find HERE same for the townies through the series of ten posts pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5| pt.6 | pt.7| pt.8| pt.9| pt.10
before you download!!!
i highly recommend going into your MCCC settings and TURNING OFF sim culling. what this will do is prevent the game from deleting unplayed sims as you play. which i didn't until after v.1 and was confused why i had to start from scratch around 9 months ago.
what packs are required?
all of them! (sorry)
no cc!
when you load in!!!
all households will be marked as played... simply because i wasn't taking my chances with sim culling
autonomy and aging are off, it is up to you if you would like to turn this back on
finally i am sure that i missed some things or relationships or maybe even forgot a mailbox somewhere... that is bound to happen with every save file. let me know if you would like i plan on only adding as the sims 4 goes on and would to get to near perfection
and with that that... i am sending all love... please enjoy V.2
DOWNLOAD
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starry-bi-sky · 11 months ago
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Snippets for my Clone^2 Au that I thought was funny...
in incorrect quotes style format (Clone^2 = Both my Clone Damian Au and Clone Bruce Danny aus combined)
Snippet 1: Danny and Damian meeting for the first time
Danny, avoiding Damian's katana: I don't wanna know who made you I don't wanna know who made you I don't wanna know who made you Danny: pleASE STOP TRYING TO STAB ME
------- Snippet 2: Danny and Damian meeting (Alternative)
Bby Damian: gets dropped off in the ONE city where his dad's clone is Danny, internally: damn I don't wanna know who made you
Danny: alright little buddy, lets -- *blocks Damian's sword* please don't stab me -- let's get you something to -- *blocks Damian's sword* please don't stab me -- something to EAT
------------- Snippet 3: Danny checking out books in the library Librarian: oh, are you trying to learn arabic, Mister Fenton?
Danny: oh- uh, yeah :) my parents recently,,, took in a foster kid from overseas,,,, but we found out he doesn't know english and he's having a hard time adjusting Danny, lying (only partially) through his teeth: so I,,, thought,,, maybe it would help him acclimate to his new environment if I learned some arabic :) Librarian: oh how sweet! let me know if you need any help, i can find you more books Danny: thank you
----------
Snippet 4: Damian wants to patrol Damian: let me come with you on patrol Danny, 16 year old idiot who fights without powers: uh. no. you are Itty Bitty Child Damian: comes with anyways
----------- Snippet 5: Damian, trying to fight a ghost without a ghost-proof sword: Danny, catching him and holding him against his chest: *radiating exhaustion* no,,,, no,,,,, not yet,,,,
-------- Snippet 6: danny has an epiphany Danny, realizing that he needs to set an example now that Damian is coming with him on patrol: fUCK Danny: I NEED AN ACTUAL SUIT ---------- Snippet 7; dynamic duo Danny: what is it with you and batman and robin???? Damian, silently sweating: ,,,,,,,because they are exemplary partners and i would like to think that us two are the same Danny, doesnt know identities: ...aww??? thats kinda sweet??? okay :)
---------- Snippet 8: hypocrite Damian: dijaal (affectionate) Danny, on day ?? of solving a cold case after a ghost asked him to: hrbhk - Damian, what are you doing up? it's late, you have school in the morning Damian, staring at him deadpan: you have school too. you should go to bed Danny: five min..utes buddy. then i'll go to bed Damian, grabbing the back of his rolling chair and pushing him to bed: no. now. danny, with eyebags the size of the marianna trench: ...fine. now.
--------- Snippet 9: ...the line Danny, doing homework with Sam and Tucker: Danny: *has an epiphany* wait. shit Tucker and Sam: ...? Danny, his head in his hands: am I Damian's dad or his brother?? Danny: wh- what do we define this??? Tucker: ... you're brothers until its funny? and then you're his dad?
----------- Snippet 10: learning Danny: reading a book about learning arabic Damian, slamming his hand down on the book to get his attention: dijaal, *points to book* kitab Danny, frowning: what? Damian, tapping book: kitab Danny: ..ki..kitab? Kitab? Book? Damian: Boog...book. *points to table* tawila --------- Snippet 11: clone reveal Damian, later after he knows enough english and months of chilling out: i am a clone.... meant to kill my original Danny, internally: wow you don't say? Danny, out loud:..huh. okay. thanks for telling me, uh, same here. except that last part
---
Dijaal = imposter Damian is affectionately calling Danny an imposter because danny is a clone of bruce :)
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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 3 months ago
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Dark - Y.JH
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🌲Who: Gender-neutral reader x Jeonghan 🌲What: Horror. Human reader. Monster Jeonghan. 🌲Wordcount: 3.2k 🌲Warnings: Mental manipulation/control. Some blood and injury. Gradual loss of humanity. Biting. I truly do not know how to tag/warn this but basically, Jeonghan is some kind of eldritch horror who wants reader and morals do not exist for him 
Summary: There’s something watching you. It feels old, feels evil, feels dark. You can feel its eyes on you when you pass the woods to get home.  It feels hungry.
-2024 Masterlist-
AN- @ourdawnishotterthanourday , thank you for reading through this for me, little one 💗
Edit 8/9/24; bonus artwork by the lovely @monamipencil ! thank you so much for making this, sweetheart, it was such a lovely surprise! 🥺
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It’s dark. The kind of dark that isn’t just seen but felt. The kind of dark that seeps into your skin, wraps its cold fingers around your veins and travels through your veins. The kind of dark that makes a home of the deepest corners within you and steals the warmth from your soul. The kind of dark that hardens your heart and refuses to let go.
It’s dark and you don’t know if you can find the light again.
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You’re the last to leave. Again. It doesn’t surprise anyone anymore. You’ve been leaving later and later with every passing week.
The sun had set long ago by the time you leave work and start the walk home. 
A walk that you shouldn’t really take. The way is dimly lit, the neighbourhood too old for modern security cameras to be commonplace.
It’s dark and not safe. You know this. You had been scared about this when you moved here all those months back. Back when you used to get lifts home from colleagues who worried for your safety too. Back before you lied about being okay to walk home alone.
Something changed. You don’t know what it is, but something in you isn’t the same as it was then. You don’t know if you miss it. 
It’s dark and you’re walking home the same route you take every night after work. Far too late into the night. 
A cool breeze flutters your hair, presses against your back urging you onwards. Closer to home. Closer to the darkness waiting for you. 
An empty house, no one to come home to. No one to wait up and scold you for being so late and reckless, yet relieved to see you home safe. No life within the walls until you return. No one. Just the dark.
It’s a calm night. Like the world has decided to take a break and let the nightcrawlers go about their business with nothing to disturb them. It’s nice. Soothing almost.
You take a deep breath, let the night air chill your lungs, send prickles over the back of your neck. 
You almost pause as you realise the shiver running its fingers up your spine isn’t from the lungful of cool air. But you don’t dare.
You know something is watching you. Something is always watching you as you pass the opening to the deep old woods near your home. The only companion you know on these nights. 
It used to scare you; cause your heart to race and your lungs to shudder in your chest, expand and deflate erratically and leave no room for anything else. But now. Now there’s something else in your chest, spreading and winding around every inch of you, filling all the gaps and limiting how your lungs expand, forcing them to behave. 
It used to scare you; it doesn’t any more.
Still, you don’t dare slow, you don’t dare look because you know with everything in you, you know that the moment you show weakness, show interest, whatever is lurking in the dark will be upon you and you will be helpless to stop it.
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It’s dark and cold and…soft. The world is cold around you, burrowing under your skin and spilling ice into your heart, but there is softness underfoot. It’s a little damp and something small tickles over your bare skin, but it’s soft underfoot. 
It’s soft and it’s not as bad as you thought it would be.
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When you open your eyes on a new day, the curtains are pulled open allowing the morning sun to stream into your bedroom. You remember closing them last night before climbing into bed. You remember locking the window securely. 
There’s a gentle breeze against your face, birdsong reaching your ears. 
You’re not surprised to find the window open when you look over.
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“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” One of your co-workers, a friendly young man who seems to light up any room he enters checks, even as others call for him to hurry. 
“I’m sure, I’m not much of a drinker,” you assure, smiling at him in a way that you hope is assuring. Really, you just want him to leave. You used to like him, when you first met you thought he was the kind of man you would love to have by your side in any capacity, but especially as a romantic partner. But now. Now his sunshine hurts your eyes and makes the fire burn cold at the back of your neck.
“Okay,” he agrees, though he looks disappointed and very bad at hiding it. You pretend not to notice and turn your focus back to your work, tilting your head down in a clear sign of dismissal. 
“Come on, Seokmin!” One of your colleagues yells.
“Alright!” He calls back yet hovers a moment longer before abruptly grabbing a pen from the pot and leaning over to take your left hand and scrawl numbers down on your skin. “If you change your mind, here’s my number, I’ll keep my phone on loud. Or if you want someone to walk you home, I’m happy to! It scares me thinking about you walking-” 
“There are post-it notes right there,” you comment, looking between his phone number written hastily against your skin and the little stack of bright yellow squares of paper. They’re impossible to miss. 
“Oh, right, sorry.” He quickly puts the pen down and backs up with an embarrassed, apologetic smile when you raise your eyes to look at him. “I just-” 
“Seokmin!” The loudest of the group almost screeches impatiently, making Seokmin jolt and look at them. “Flirt on company time, not mine!” 
“I’m not flirting!” Seokmin shrieks, whirling around to look at you with wide eyes of alarm. “I-I’m not flirting!” 
“You should go because they drag you,” you suggest, raising an amused eyebrow. 
Seokmin opens his mouth to respond yet just closes it again and nods rapidly before turning and rushing off, zipping his coat as he goes. 
You hear him whispering madly, sternly to his friends when he reaches them but you don’t care to discern the words. You’re already looking at the numbers on your hand and wondering if he purposely picked the permanent marker to stain your skin with.
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It’s dark, and cold, and soft, and you’re not alone. The ground is still damp and soft under your bare feet, the gentle breeze cool against your skin and you can’t see. But there’s something against your left hand that feels almost tender. 
A touch. An icy finger tracing over your skin. Admiring.
Until it’s not. 
The gentle touch turns sharp, a piercing burn in a purposeful line across your skin. Warmth spills out, trickling over your skin, dripping off your fingers to the soft ground you stand on. 
Your breath catches as your lips press together firmly. You want to cry out, but there is something telling you not to open your mouth. You can’t let the dark spill onto your tongue and slip down your throat. 
There’s a sound, something you don’t understand. Something that rattles the very core of you, something indescribable even if you were to try. But it feels old, it feels powerful. And it’s talking to you.
You don’t know what it’s saying but it’s talking to you, voice vibrating in your bones for only a few seconds yet it feels like those few seconds have changed you irreversibly. 
Something wet touches your hand. The icy touch of slender fingers hold your palm, leading it closer to the soft wetness. It’s almost warm, but not quite. 
The cool wet traces over the warm trails that spilled your hand. 
A tongue. Whatever is with you is tracing its tongue over the trail of your spilled blood. 
There’s a sound, it sounds pleased. 
The tongue passes over the back of your hand. It burns.
You want to cry out.
You keep your mouth shut.
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“What happened?” One of your colleagues asks, eyeing the bandage wrapped around your left hand as you take your mug from the coffee machine. 
“Just wasn’t paying attention,” you reply with a lighthearted little laugh and shrug. She accepts your words just like that and starts to prattle on about something as she puts her mug where yours was moments before and places a fresh pod into the machine. 
Your gaze slides to the white gauze hiding the raised line of a fresh wound on your hand, cutting straight through the stained ink you couldn’t scrub off before bed.
“Did you hear?” Another colleague walks in, his hands holding his oversized empty mug ready to refill, and his eyes are wide.
“Be more specific, Seungkwan, you catch so much gossip it’s impossible to know what you’re talking about at any given time,” the woman on your right scoffs, rolling her eyes but her lips are turned up a little in amusement. 
You glance at her and suddenly wonder why you don’t know her name. Have you ever known it? Surely. You must’ve. But you can’t for the life of you remember what it is. 
You look at Seungkwan as he moves closer and you realise that you had forgotten his name until the woman spoke it. You wonder what else you’ve forgotten lately; you get the feeling it’s a lot. Yet you find that you don’t care, not really. It’s all meaningless.
“You know how Seokmin didn’t turn up today, right?” Seungkwan whispers as he leans closer to yourself and the nameless woman. 
You didn’t ask to be included in this and you almost walk away, but he’s half blocking you in and you don’t really want to go back to your desk and stare at a screen that hurts your eyes even with the brightness turned down. So you remain and just watch the conversation happen as you sip your drink.
“Hungover, he went out with Mingyu and Soonyoung last night and you know how those three get,” the woman muses, plucking her mug from the machine and turning to lean back against the counter and leave space for Seungkwan to access the machine if he wants to. But he doesn’t and continues to clutch his empty mug with wide eyes.
“We all thought that too but he didn’t answer anyone’s texts or calls and you know he’s too nice to do that.” The woman hums in agreement. You don’t have any input yourself but nod a little when Seungkwan looks at you. 
It seems right for Seokmin’s character at least, to never intentionally avoid others like that. He always seems too…warm. 
Your nose turns up a little at the thought of that warmth. You used to like it. But now. Now even the thought feels suffocating.
“Exactly,” Seungkwan continues, entirely missing your unimpressed turn of expression. “So Mingyu went around there on lunch break to check on him and he’s not there.” 
“What?” 
“Seokmin isn’t there.” 
“Then where is he?” 
“Nobody knows. They’re trying to find out. It’s not like Seokmin to do this. They’re worried something happened to him.” 
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It’s dark, and cold, and soft underfoot and you’re not alone. It’s dark and there’s a cold trail of a gentle touch over your cheek. 
There’s that sound, that noise you know means that whatever is with you is talking to you. You don’t understand, but you think you’re starting to.
It’s dark and you’re not alone anymore. You’re not sure you ever were. 
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There’s a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, a hamper of unwashed clothes in the bathroom. None of it matters. It’s all meaningless.
You’re waiting. Though you’re not sure what for. 
But you think you’re starting to understand. Every morning you wake with a breeze on your skin and you think you understand more. 
You feel it in you. 
Whatever it is, it’s almost ready.
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A gasp of your name makes you look up from the display of apples before you. You know the approaching man, he’s familiar. You work with him.
He gets closer, plastic disposable coffee cup in hand and he’s already talking away, gossiping. You lift your eyes from his cup and to his face. He always has a cup. You know that. But you don’t know his name. It doesn’t matter. 
“It’s so sad, isn’t it?” The man finishes, frowning at you as if he truly is upset by whatever he had just said to you. You blink at him, not sure what was said but willing to agree to be left in peace already. “About Seokmin?” 
You don’t know who Seokmin is. You think you should know, but you don’t. You don’t care either. 
“Were you listening?” He frowns further and reaches out towards you. You take a step back out of his reach before his palm can touch your forehead. “Are you okay? You look pale, you feel cold.” 
“I’m fine,” you assure. It’s the truth. You are fine. He’s the one emanating a disturbing amount of warmth. 
“You’ve been strange lately. Not yourself.” 
“I’m fine.” 
“Right.” Genuine concern twists his mouth as he curls his hand back around his cup. “You should text Seokmin, let him know that you’re thinking about him, it’ll cheer him up.” 
“I have groceries to buy,” you point out. He opens his mouth to say something but you’re already turning and walking away with your basket in hand. 
Those apples didn’t seem fresh enough to you anyway.
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There’s a man standing on the path as you walk home, a grocery bag swinging from your hand and guided by the gentle moonlight. He’s not moving, just standing, staring into the dark of the woods transfixed. 
You know better than that. 
As you near the man-shaped obstacle in the path you make an attempt to give him a wide berth but suddenly he turns to face you with wide eyes void of any light. You recognise him, even without his normal warmth. 
“Come for a walk with me,” he speaks to you in a voice layered with sounds you can’t describe. Though there is his natural voice and another one there, one you don’t know by ear but you know it. Whatever is in your chest knows it. 
You almost falter in your steps but remain steady. You ignore him and walk around his form to continue on your walk.
“You can’t avoid it forever. He’s waiting for you,” he calls after you.
“Go home, Seokmin!” you reply yet don’t look back. 
You don’t see him take a step off of the path. You don’t see him slink off into the woods, drawn by something that has its cold fingers too deep in his chest for him to ever be free of again.
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It’s dark, until it isn’t. No light comes yet shapes start to form in front of your eyes. Pale thin fingers reaching for you, tipped with short pointed nails. The sharpness of which you have proof of under the bandage on your hand.
A gentle caress on your cheek.
A blink of your eyes and a face appears. Or perhaps it was always there. You just didn’t see it before. 
It looks human, yet doesn’t. Too beautiful, too ghastly. A contradiction you are unable to remove your gaze from. You don’t want to remove your gaze from.
Dark wisps of hair fall over an even darker eye as its head tilts a little. To the left then to the right. 
Pretty lips stained red stretch wide, too wide. Sharp teeth put on display. Too many teeth. But so pretty. Dangerous. And beautiful. 
It’s smiling, eyes swirling with twisted pleasure as it stares at you, a cold, gentle thumb rubbing a tender pattern against your cheek. The smile grows as you tilt ever so slightly into the touch.
Teeth rescind before your eyes. They remain sharp yet fewer appear and are smaller than before. Leaving space for sounds to slip through. You catch sight of a pale tongue moving within its mouth as it forms sounds. Words. 
But you don’t understand. You don’t know the ancient language it speaks. 
Yet.
A soft touch to your bottom lip and your mouth falls open at the request of this horrifyingly beautiful creature before you. 
It smiles widely, pleased by your willing obedience as darkness spills onto your tongue and slips down your throat.
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It’s dark when you open your eyes, no light streaming in from your window. The breeze is still on your face where you lay. 
It’s soft under your back, soft and cold and damp. 
“Welcome to your new life, little one.” You’ve never heard the voice before, not on its own, only blended with the man on the path. It’s velvet smooth yet crackles at the edge with a cold fire. Comfort and danger in one. You know the owner even without looking over. 
Still, you look.
Beauty and horror rolled into one haunting creature resembling a human male, yet far from it. 
He’s sitting on the damp forest ground a little to your right, smiling at you with those sharp teeth on show, his dark, dangerous eyes which hold no light or warmth locked on you. And yet you feel…adored. 
“What’s your name?” You ask, voice soft and calm, at peace here laid on the bed of moss beside the being that could tear you apart and swallow you whole if he so desired. You think he once wanted to. But now. Now you think he still might. But only to carry you with him always. 
You think you would let him, if he asked. 
“My name?” He repeats, leaning forward. You nod and then suddenly he’s slinking over the ground, crawling in a manner that should not be possible, his bones should not move in such a way if he were human. 
But he’s not. 
“Names hold power here, little one, do you think I would give a mere human power over me?” He taunts, placing each of his bony hands either side of your head as he leans over you, head tilting too far to the right for a human neck. 
“I don’t feel human anymore.” You reply and lift your hand to feather your fingers over his cheek. Perfectly smooth and cold, yet still soft. 
“I suppose you are not.” He chuckles and dips down to brush the tip of his nose over your neck, to breathe the scent of you in.
“What am I now?” 
“Mine.” Sharp teeth pierce your delicate skin, not deeply, just enough to draw blood that a cold, wet tongue laps up greedily. 
“Then tell me your name. If I’m yours, I will never want to do you harm.” 
He leans up. Peers at you as he licks blood stained teeth and swallows every drop. 
“You are mine.” He repeats.
“I am yours.”
“Prove it, let me have you.” 
“I am yours.” You repeat firmly, tugging him down to taste your blood on his tongue.
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It’s dark, and cold, and soft under your bare back, and you are not alone. 
“My name is Jeonghan.” 
It’s dark and you don’t want to find the light again.
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