#I'm about to be another year older and I just wish I could forget my age entirely. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itonashi · 1 year

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YOU are YOU

SUMMARY : Known around the world — a genius scientist named [Name][Last Name]. Everyone sought to be her as she was deemed perfect. A young prodigy that managed to climb up the ranks alongside her friends. She met her demise at the age of 35. It shook the world. Tears fall because of her. Will there be another her?

PAIRING : aquamarine hoshino x fem!reader

WARNINGS : implied deaths, stalking, drugs, slow burn romance, more will be added.

A/N : finished chp 1! even though i was in misery because of hsr. it's okay hehe. haha. i want gepard so bad. chp 1 is kind short even though it's like 1.4k words lol. i hope you love it my staggie ! (my followers name is staggie)

"Goro, don't you miss me?"

"Why should I?" Goro glance at you with eyes that could be interpret as 'in love'. Despite his replies to you, he knew that he misses you deeply. You changed him. Your existence gave hope to him.

Before knowing the world of idols and drowning himself in work as a doctor, you were the reason he kept on living. It was like a miracle. Meeting you on his last year of middle school, someone that's 2 years older than him. He never thought he was the guy to like older women.

Your hair that flow along the wind breeze of the countryside fresh air. The usual spot of your meeting place, the hospital rooftop. "Look at you being snarky..." You make a shock face. "Don't you have work to do?" He questioned the free time you have been having these days. You have too much free time for a genius scientist that's known around the world. A prominent figure in the science world that will go through history.

One of the people who had change the world through technology. Despite being a figure in the science world, you too have made it in the entertainment industry. Just what were you doing? Trying to live nine lives? You had appear in model shoot, even become a brand's ambassador. "You really are carefree.." He added with a slight chuckle and fix his glasses. You tilt your head "Well... I'm still young after all! A young woman have to make the best of her life." You gave an eyes closed smile.

He crosses his arms together and sigh "Whatever makes you happy [Nickname]." You lightly laugh and look towards the night sky. He stare at your figure. Even when you're only standing, he could feel the aura you let out. The strong aura that just screams 'Hey! I'm an important person in this industry.' He could never compare to you.

You went close to the railing and face him — leaning onto the railing. "Gorou, do I shine like a star right now?" He widen his eyes at the sudden change of atmosphere. The words didn't come out of his mouth, instead he probably look like a gapping fish. How could he forget how your eyes look like?

It was your eyes that made him attracted to you. It shine like the stars. Your eyes twinkle and had actual stars in it. Everyone agreed that the unique things about you is your eyes. They said that your eyes were like the stars dancing around the ocean waves.

"You do shine. You shine more than other people." He responded to your question with a smile. He wish that this moment last forever but the world isn't fair.

If only he could go back to this moment and make you stay this time. Would you and him become a family? Would the smile you always hold be in his mind forever? Can he still see your smile even after death?

Even after two years of your passing, he still hasn't move on from you. Your smile was engraved in his mind. The lovely smile you had. It will always be in his heart — like you always said to him "Well, I have always been in your heart." With the little laugh you did. Your soothing voice will always be his favorite.

They will never be another you because YOU are YOU. The world will always remember you. His genius scientist.

It breaks his heart how you have mentioned about a teen girl named AI Hoshino. The girl he would help to deliver her babies. He never thought he would ever met his patient's favorite idol. He never thought he would ever met the random teen girl he has heard about from you.

Oh right, he haven't read the letter that was given to him the day of your funeral from one of your friends. He didn't read it yet because the condition was to read it after 3 years. Were you playing with him? It has been 2 years now... Only one year left.

Funny story, he didn't have the chances to read your letter because well he's dead! Duh!

'It has been two years that I have been in this body' You frown. I guess, you're finally accustomed with this body of yours. [Name] Yoshino, that was your name in this new body, new life. Such a coincidence that you will still be using the same name as your previous life.

Reincarnation? It was such a bizarre things to happened to you. You don't believe in it but she does. How are all off your friends doing? You can only see them on the TV but it was rare to do so. In your past life, you were a genius scientist that was in a world organization. Each of your friends are from another country. They were the people that managed to top the world alongside with you.

Only some of your friends appears in the TV as half of them prefer to work behind the scenes. Well, you hope they're doing fine even after your death. Did they read the letters yet? Did Goro read the letter yet?

How is the love of your life doing? Did he move on? Did he finally have a family? How sad. If only... You weren't killed two years ago.

What's this weird feeling in your stomach? Why do you feel like something bad is going to happen? You need to keep your guard up. You walked faster and stay clear from the crowd. It was night time.

'This is bad. Something is going to happen.' You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration. You felt sick but you can't drop your guard even in the slightest. Being a prominent figure means you're prone to assassination attempt. After all, you have always been unlucky in situations.

You have steered away from the crowd. A quiet place that's still within the city of Tokyo. A woman cannot be alone, you learned that the hard way but you felt like this time you need to be alone. Is it a feeling of death? Is someone watching you?

You saw a tiny flash and glanced towards it. "A sniper... He must've known I noticed him now..." You muttered under your breath. You took a deep breath. 'I can't avoid this anymore. I'm sorry, my little brother. I'm sorry, Goro. I'm sorry to everyone that I have lied too. I was always dirty but I will forever be thankful to him for saving me. Even in my death, I want to smile for everyone. After all, I just love these people the most. Will there be a person to avenge me?' You smiled towards the sniper and mouthed 'Do your best. I have done enough in this world, probably.'

Bang!

Blood splattered everywhere. A shot on the head is bound to be messy. The sniper gritted his teeth. 'I love you' was the last words you mouthed the moment you were shot on the head. The bloods on your clothes, hair, floor. Everything is messy. The messy life you have been living as a genius scientist. Do you actually want to live as a genius again? You can't keep lying to yourself.

You remembered your last moments very clearly. It can't never be erase from your memories. The date of your death. The time of your death. The place of your death. You can never forget about it.

Will you be lucky in this new life?

Will you be miserable again?

You shake of the negative thoughts. At least you have parents in this life but they're weird, in your opinion. Well, who knows what will happen in the future. You're not some kind of god. Just a genius. A 'lucky genius' that's what they call you in your past life but no one knew of your past except for your uncle. Your past life's uncle. The man who took care of you after the death of your parents. Where is he now?

"[Name]! There you are!" Oh, it's your mom. Akemi Yoshino, the woman who hold you for nine months. She's a beauty to say the least. She held you in her arms and kiss your cheek. You make a gibberish sounds to pretend. Your father, Kazuo Yoshino watch by the sidelines and only smiled. What a weirdo. Either way, you don't know if you will get close with your own father.

Your mother was a actress that quit due to being pregnant. Was she popular? Kinda. She have made an appearance in a commercial ad. Your father is a film director that's famous. Means, you came from a rich family now. Not that you weren't rich in your past life. To be born into a family on the entertainment industry is a stress though.

Expectations will come for you.

TAGLISTS : @glitch-karma @kult-o @miyakoa (if you ever change your use pls inform. i couldn't tag some of you.)

[NEXT] [PREV] [SERIES LIST]

itonashi © // don't plagiarize, copy or edit my works.

#oshi no ko x reader #oshi no ko #aqua hoshino x reader #aquamarine hoshino #aquamarine hoshino x reader #aqua hoshino #ruby hoshino #kana arima #akane kurokawa #hoshino ai #ai hoshino #itomlist!!✧#itoworks!!✧

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queenshelby · 8 months

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Our Little Secret (Part Four)

Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader

Warning: Smut, Age-Gap, Daddy Issues

Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.

About fifteen minutes later, you reached the elegant hotel restaurant and bar on the top floor of the Four Seasons.

The dimly lit room was adorned with an elegant floral arrangement, candles creating a romantic ambience.

Cillian had ordered some wine for you and the conversation flowed easily, filling the silence with tales of past adventures and shared desires and you could not help but bring up his wife again, knowing very well that you may be overstepping a line.

"How long have you been married for?" you asked casually, trying to gauge the depth of his unhappiness. Cillian sighed heavily, a look of resignation crossing his face.

"Almost eight years now," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "It started as a marriage of convenience when she fell pregnant, but it turned into something more." He took a sip of his wine, his eyes avoiding yours as he spoke. "But then, years later, we've grown apart, both personally and sexually." He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words.

"It's complicated," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion before seeking to change the topic.

"So what about you? Why don't you have a boyfriend?" Cillian inquired curiously, leaning closer to you across the table. His gaze roamed your face, seemingly seeking answers to questions unspoken. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lingered on your lips, an unmistakable desire evident in them.

"Well, you know, life has just been busy for me," you tried to explain lightly, hoping to deflect attention away from your lack of romantic experiences.

"And you haven't found anyone who interests you?" Cillian pressed further, his voice laced with concern.

"No. Most of the guys I am interested in are much older than me and some are married," you said, blushing, seeing that Cillian too was more than twice your age.

"I can see a common theme here," Cillian chuckled before running his fingers over your hand suggestively.

"And why would that be?" you questioned, teasing him.

"Well, I am older, and I am married," Cillian smiled before pointing out something quite substantial. "I suppose you just wanted someone experienced, huh? Or maybe you just enjoy indulging in illicit affairs which, can be quite dangerous as you know," he answered, his eyes twinkling with humour.

"Oh, I wouldn't say it's necessarily dangerous, just a bit naughty," you giggled, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

"True, it might not be inherently dangerous," Cillian conceded, his fingers playing with your wrist seductively. "But, sometimes these secret rendezvous can lead to situations you didn't intend or expect," Cillian pointed out, reaching for another glass of wine.

"Have you ever gotten caught cheating?" you asked, knowing very well that you were not the only one Cillian had ever been involved with outside his marriage. There were rumors in the paper, circulating with respect to at least two actresses as well as his assistant, Siobhan.

"Only once," Cillian confessed, a grimace crossing his face. "It wasn't pretty. My wife found us together in a hotel room in London," Cillian pointed out, and your chin dropped.

"That must have been quite awkward," you acknowledged, taking another sip of your drink.

"Extremely so," Cillian agreed, running his finger around the rim of his wine glass.

"Who was it with?" you wanted to know, still curious about the details of his infidelity. Cillian shrugged, a mixture of discomfort and pride evident on his face.

"She was my assistant," he explained. He shook his head slightly, as if to dispel memories he wished he could forget.

"We slept with each other for a few months and, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure why I did it," he confessed, his expression turning serious. "I guess I was blinded by the thrill of doing something forbidden, even though I knew deep down that it would ultimately destroy my marriage," he explained and, as the conversation continued, you found yourself drawn to Cillian's dark and mysterious persona.

"Isn't that what you are doing now? With your brother's stepdaughter out of all people?" you chuckled, feeling the alcohol loosen your tongue. "I mean, I guess we both share a twisted sense of morality," you continued, raising your glass playfully.

"Maybe," Cillian smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I suppose I just no longer care about my marriage and being an actor makes cheating quite easy," he mused, running his fingers idly along your thigh. Your heart raced, sensing the raw power beneath his seemingly gentle exterior.

Despite his obvious flaws, there was an undeniable allure about him that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of a precipice – eager to plunge into the unknown.

"Now tell me, why me? I am only nineteen, I am your step-niece and I have absolutely no experience when it comes to sex," you admitted, feeling a little self-conscious about your lack of knowledge and inexperience.

"Your innocence intrigued me. It is not something I have encountered before, and the fact that you are my step-niece doesn't bother me. We only just met," Cillian said gently, running his finger along your thigh still.

"I think you are beautiful," he told you softly, staring into your eyes with such intensity that it sent shivers down your spine. You felt your heart race, sensing the raw power beneath his seemingly gentle exterior.

"Do you like teaching me and training me new things?" you teased and Cillian nodded playfully, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Yes, I like teaching you, and I like how you respond to me when I touch you and show you things," he continued, his fingers tracing your skin.

"You make me feel young again," he whispered huskily, leaning in close enough to taste the sweetness of your lips.

You couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of confidence at his words, finding solace in the fact that you were making him feel younger and more alive. Perhaps this relationship, despite its inauspicious beginnings, was giving you both the thrill you sought, offering a mutual escape from the monotony of your respective lives.

"Should we go back to the room?" Cillian then asked,

his voice a low rumble in your ear. You couldn't help but agree, as your body seemed to hum with a familiar, yet unfulfilled energy.

Without a word, you stood up and grabbed your coat, leaving a generous tip for the waiter before walking out of the restaurant with Cillian.

***

When you arrived back at the hotel room an hour later and with the buttplug still inside of you, your mind was flooded with the idea of the night ahead. The sexual tension between you two was palpable and as you prepared for another round of passionate lovemaking, you couldn't help but imagine all the ways Cillian would tease and torture you tonight.

In the room, Cillian removed his jacket and undid his shirt, revealing his freckled torso. The sight sent a wave of desire coursing through your veins, heightening your arousal.

"I am so ready to fuck you again," Cillian told you assertively, his dominant tone causing a mix of fear and excitement within you. With practised ease, he moved his body against yours, expertly positioning you both on the bed.

As you lay side by side, Cillian slowly began exploring your body with his hands, tracing the outline of your breasts and circling your nipples, making you squirm with anticipation. He then gently pulled you onto his lap, allowing you to straddle him. Your hips met his with a gentle swaying motion, eliciting moans from both of you.

Cillian reached between your legs, finding the base of the butt plug and gently pressing his thumb against it, triggering a surge of sensation through your entire body. Your breath caught in your throat, and your entire being trembled with anticipation.

"What do you do with the other women, in bed?" you dared to ask, your curiosity piqued. Cillian smirked slightly, a knowing look in his eyes.

"It depends on who they are," he responded evasively. "Some want it rough, others prefer something sweet and tender." Cillian lowered his head, brushing his lips against yours. Your body tensed with anticipation as you felt his warm breath on your face. "But, ultimately, what they all have in common is that they want to please me," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with confidence.

You nodded silently, understanding his ego. He placed his hands on either side of your face, his fingers gently massaging your temples.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered intimately, his eyes searching yours intensely. Your heart raced at the prospect of submitting completely to his will. "Yes," you whispered back, unable to hide the tremble in your voice.

With that, Cillian leaned in, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily. You moaned into his mouth, driven by the raw passion emanating from him.

"Good," Cillian murmured approvingly, his hands gripping your waist firmly. His thumb traced over your ass, sending a delicious shiver through your core. "Because I can't wait to see how far we can take this," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I love it when a woman gives herself fully to me," he confided in a low voice, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks.

Cillian released you from his grasp, sliding his hands up your thighs to caress your hips and the small of your back.

"I give myself to you, Cillian. Do with me what you want," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. Hearing those words sent a surge of power coursing through Cillian's veins. He felt like he held the reins of an untamed stallion, one he was determined to break and tame.

"Good girl," he whispered, gently guiding your hands to his own hard cock.

Your heart skipped a beat as you tentatively wrapped your fingers around his length, feeling its heat and size.

Cillian groaned softly, his gaze fixed on you as you explored him.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. You met his eyes, finding them filled with hunger and lust.

Cillian's fingers roamed your body, lightly touching your skin as if committing every inch to memory before ordering you get on to the bed.

"I want you on all fours," he instructed firmly, making you feel even more submissive under his control.

As you moved into position, your skin prickled with anticipation, your breathing growing shallow.

With you now on all fours, Cillian stood behind you, gently guiding your hips with his hands. The weight of his body pressed against your back, making you feel both safe and vulnerable at the same time. His hands roamed over your body, stopping momentarily to stroke your buttocks before moving on.

"That buttplug suits your ass," he growled appreciatively, causing your body to shudder involuntarily.

"Now, do you think you can take the next size up?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

His fingers trailed across your back, causing your flesh to quiver with anticipation.

"Another buttplug?" you queried with nervousness, causing Cillian to smirk.

"Yes. This one is wider and will stretch you even further," Cillian told you. "Trust me, it won't hurt much, and you'll be glad you did it afterwards," he said confidently, giving you the impression that he had done this many times before. You hesitated, unsure if you could really allow him to insert yet another object into your rear end. Cillian saw your reluctance and decided to be more persuasive. He gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I want you to trust me," he growled, his eyes full of authority. Your pulse quickened at the thought of submitting entirely to his whims.

"Okay," you answered, your voice barely audible.

Cillian smiled confidently, reaching for the bag containing various sex toys. He picked out a new buttplug – slightly larger than the first one. His hand reached behind you and he pulled out the first plug which was now completly covered in his cum.

As he discarded it, you gasped at the sudden feeling of openness in your backside. Cillian grinned at your reaction, and quickly inserted the new, wider plug. He worked it into your tight hole slowly, gauging your response as he went. Your breath hitched at the invasion, but you fought the urge to squirm away from the foreign object. It took some force, but eventually the plug was securely lodged inside you.

The sense of fullness sent shivers down your spine.

With the added size of the buttplug, your muscles clenched around it, making you gasp at the sensation. Cillian noticed your discomfort and reassured you that it would feel better soon. He stepped closer, reaching for your breast with one hand, and your chin with the other.

"I promise you'll enjoy this," he whispered gently, his eyes boring into yours. "Just relax and let go," he coaxed, encouraging you to submit entirely to his desires.

As he held you in place, Cillian began exploring your wetness with his fingers, gently probing your opening. He took in the sounds of your breathing, the way your body trembled under his touch, and your increasing arousal. His fingers circled your entrance, getting it wetter and more inviting for his erection.

Soon, you heard the zipper of his jeans being lowered. His cock sprang free, already erect and eager.

"This might hurt a little, but I know that you will be a good girl for me and take it," Cillian said before he knelt behind you, between your legs, as he positioned himself at your entrance. With one powerful thrust, he penetrated you deeply, making you gasp at the intensity of the sensation.

Between the buttplug stretching your anus and his cock stretching your pussy, you felt a strange mix of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

"You're so tight," Cillian whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Just right for my cock." His hands reached for your hips, guiding you deeper onto his cock with each thrust.

He began a steady rhythm, pushing deep into you with each plunge, then retreating just enough to let you catch your breath before pulling you back into him again.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed throughout the room, punctuated by your gasps and moans.

"I love fucking you raw and I can't wait to fill your pussy with my cum," Cillian panted, his face etched with passion. The intensity of his lustful gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help but match his energy, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your hips bucked instinctively with each powerful thrust.

"Take my cock. That's it," Cillian demanded harshly, causing you to gasp and obey.

The sensation of being thoroughly claimed and owned sent waves of arousal coursing through your body.

Cillian's rough hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you deeper onto his cock with each thrust. His raw, animalistic nature only heightened the experience, leaving you craving more of his dominant presence.

You cried out in ecstasy as Cillian continued to pound into you, his fingers digging into your hips with each powerful stroke. The sound of your moans filling the room fueled his lust further, as he took his cock out, only to plunge back into you once more.

"Such a good girl," he growled, pushing his cock deeper inside you.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, holding onto him as he pounded into you, his hips thrusting wildly.

"Fuck, yes!" you screamed, matching his fervor.

Your orgasm built, an intense wave of pleasure coursing through your body, mirroring his own.

"Cum with me," Cillian ordered roughly, his voice hoarse with desire as your movements became frantic, your passionate frenzy reaching its peak.

Cillian's rough hands gripped your hips tightly, pushing you down on his cock with each thrust. His raw, animalistic nature only heightened the experience, leaving you craving more of his dominant presence.

The room was filled with the rhythmic sounds of flesh colliding together, accompanied by your moans and cries of ecstasy. Cillian's possessive gaze left no doubt about his dominance over you. With each thrust, you felt yourself surrendering completely to his lustful desires.

"You will be leaking my cum all night long, fuck..." Cillian growled, driving into you with a renewed ferocity. His hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you in place as he took you to the edge.

You reached your peak with him, crying out in ecstasy as your body shook with orgasmic pleasure.

Cillian followed close behind, his slender frame tensing as he allowed himself to succumb to the release. His powerful orgasm pulsed through him, his eyes meeting yours as he let out a feral groan.

He filled you with his seed and you felt it spurt, warm and thick, deep inside you.

"Take it out," you then told him, referring to the buttplug which was still embedded within you. "I need it removed."

Cillian nodded, understanding that your body needed relief after such an intense encounter. He gently caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, kissing your forehead softly.

"You did well," he murmured, taking out the buttplug. Your sphincter contracted reflexively around the cold object, making you wince as it slipped out of you.

"And maybe in a few days, I can put my cock into your tight hole instead," Cillian smirked, leaning down to press a tender kiss on your forehead.

You blushed, both embarrassed and flattered by his words. "That will hurt though, won't it?" you asked while Cillian's fingers stroked your hair gently, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

He spoke softly, his voice almost a whisper. "It will, but remember, I want you to trust me." He nibbled at your neck lightly, sending shivers down your spine.

You nodded, trying to hide your growing excitement beneath the covers. "I do," you whispered back, your heart racing in anticipation.

"Good," Cillian smiled before getting up from the bed and walking towards the spa bath, which was conveniently located on the large balcony of the hotel room.

He invited you to join him there. He poured a bottle of champagne into two glasses, then popped the cork, letting it fly high into the air. As the foam settled back into the glass, Cillian handed you one and raised his own.

"To more sexy encounters to come" he toasted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to commit to something like this. However, curiosity got the best of you, and you raised your glass as well.

"To us," you said, your voice wavering slightly. You took a sip of the champagne, feeling the effervescent liquid dance across your tongue. The bubbles tickled your throat, sending shivers down your spine.

Cillian smiled, pleased with your willingness to engage in this illicit adventure. He lifted his glass, clinking it against yours. "Cheers," he replied, his deep voice rumbling seductively.

"Let's make sure we have more meetings like this," he teased, running his fingers along your exposed arm. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel your nipples hardening immediately again.

Without saying anything, you both climbed into the warm water, embracing each other, their bodies pressed against each other. Cillian's hand wandered up your thigh, gently stroking the inside, causing your knee to jerk involuntarily.

"You taste so sweet," he breathed, his mouth finding yours once more.

Your tongues danced with each other, seeking dominance, yet both giving way to the others lead. You kissed passionately, hands roaming restlessly over each other's bodies.

Cillian's fingers drifted to your breast, pinching the nipple gently before teasing it with his tongue. Your nipples hardened, poking through your clothes, drawing his attention.

Cillian gently bit down on one, causing you to squirm in delight. He released it, leaving a faint red mark on your pale skin. "You turn me on so much," he whispered, his hand cupping your breast.

"You do too, Cillian. Although I am not sure how much more I can take without being intensely sore tomorrow," you confessed, your body still quivering from the previous encounters.

Cillian chuckled softly, taking another sip of his champagne before replying, "Oh, trust me, you'll be fine. Besides, I have some things planned to make sure you're nice and relaxed before I fuck you again," Cillian said as he moved closer to you, pressing his hardened member against your leg, making you shudder in anticipation.

As the hot water bubbled around them, you held onto Cillian, enjoying the intimacy shared between the two of you. The sensuality of the moment enveloped you, and you could feel the heat radiating off Cillian's body as it touched yours.

The night continued like this, filled with passionate and kinky sex until, at around 3 o'clock, you decided to get some sleep.

You both knew you had school the next day, and you did not want to show up exhausted.

***

Eventually, the morning sun filtered through the window as you rose from the comfortable hotel bed, your body aching in the most delicious ways. You glanced over at Cillian, who lay beside you, his tousled hair framing his face. He stretched lazily, his freckled shoulders and arms flexing as he yawned.

You stepped into the bathroom to freshen up. You had to make your way to school

soon, and there was no time to waste. While brushing your teeth, you looked at yourself in the mirror, marvelling at how much the past week had changed you. Your eyes seemed darker, more mysterious, with shadows cast from the early morning sunlight streaming through the window.

In the midst of your thoughts, you heard Cillian enter the bathroom. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Morning," he whispered softly in your ear, nuzzling your neck gently.

"Do you have everything you need? Your bag, keys, wallet?" he asked, seeing that you were almost ready for school, before giving you yet another of many hickeys, all of which were covering your neck.

You nodded, reaching into your backpack again to retrieve them.

Cillian pulled you closer, his arms tightening around you. "Alright, then." He gave you a small peck on the lips, a gentle gesture of affection.

"This was fun," he said with a grin, running his hand down your back.

You nodded, reluctantly. "It was, but I better get going. I am already late," you told him before asking when you could see him again.

"How about this Saturday if I can get away from Danielle?" he suggested and you considered his proposal, knowing that Saturday would be your day off from school.

"Okay, sounds good," you agreed, excitement building within you. "Where should we meet?" you wanted to know.

"Here. I will book a room again, but I won't be able to stay overnight," he told you with a smile, his dimples showing through. "We can just use it for our afternoon rendezvous."

You smiled back, feeling excited about the prospect of continuing this passionate affair. "That sounds great, Cillian."

"Well, then, see you on Saturday." He leaned in to give you a final kiss on the lips, lingering just long enough to leave you wanting more.

One hour later….

An hour later, and with only ten minutes to spare, you arrived at school and looked at your schedule.

Due to the renovations on site, you still had to find your classroom for today and, luckily for you, it was on the first floor.

"Good Morning Y/N," Emma smiled as she saw you walking into class, clearly happy to see you.

"Morning, Emma," you replied cheerfully, trying to ignore the lingering effect of the night before as the soreness of your encounter with Cillian lingered in your core and so did his seed.

Emma looked at you closely, a curious expression crossing her face. "So, how was your night, with your secret lover?" she then asked, still not knowing who the man was who you were seeing.

She had noticed your dishevelled appearance and the smell of sex on you, but you did not want to reveal too many details about your encounter.

"It was great. I didn't get much sleep, though," you replied casually, trying to downplay the intensity of the previous night.

"Well, I guess you'll have plenty of opportunities to catch up on your sleep later," Emma teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Why do you say that?" you asked, slightly confused by her comment.

"Well, the art class have been cancelled, so we finish early today," Emma continued, her tone light-hearted.

"Good, I am glad," you smiled before Emma leaned in and asked you for particulars.

"Now tell me, what did you do with your married man? I want specifics," Emma pressed, her curiosity piqued. You hesitated momentarily, weighing whether to divulge the details of your secret rendezvous. Ultimately, you decided to share some highlights while leaving out the explicit details.

"We stayed at the Four Seasons. We had a lovely meal, and we had lots of sex. He bought some toys, which was fun, and there was this big jacuzzi overlooking Dublin," you said, carefully choosing your words to give her a taste of the events without going into graphic detail.

"What kind of toys?" Emma giggled; her curiosity piqued.

"Toys that don't go where you would expect them to go," you replied, wanting to keep things vague.

“Anal toys?” Emma wanted to know and you quietened her quickly.

“Yes. Shh,” you whispered before cutting her off.

"Well, if you ever want to talk about it in more detail, just let me know," Emma offered, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Maybe sometime, after I am drunk enough" you agreed, knowing that it would be better to not delve into the explicit details of your experience with Cillian, but she wouldn't let off. After all, she had covered for you, giving you an alibi, and now she wanted to know more.

“I need you to tell me more. I want to know everything,” she thus said but you shook your head.

“Another day, when we are not at school, I will give you specifics, alright?” you said and Emma agreed to your proposal.

"Anyway, for now, let's change the subject," you then suggested, eager to discuss something less salacious. "How are your driving lessons going for you?" you asked, causing Emma to sigh.

"Well, my dad thinks he's teaching me how to drive but mostly I end up driving him crazy," she laughed, her eyes dancing with mischief. "No, he's really helping me. I appreciate it," she said, appreciating her father's efforts to teach her.

"That's nice" you commented just as a girl named Lindsay approached you from behind, tapping you on the shoulder.

"Hi Y/N! How's it going?" she greeted, her smile bright and genuine. She was a tall, slender girl with wavy brown hair and striking green eyes. "Oh, hi Lindsay," you replied, returning her smile warmly. "Just talking with Emma."

Lindsay nodded, glancing at Emma briefly before turning back to you. "So, my sister saw you at the Four Seasons last night, with a rather famous and rather handsome actor," she said, causing your heart to race. "Is that true?" she asked, her eyes boring into yours.

"Yes, it's true, I guess" you answered honestly, not wanting to lie about it. "Did she say anything else?" you asked, hoping to get more information from Lindsay.

"Only that you two seemed very close," Lindsay replied, her eyes holding a mix of jealousy and curiosity.

"A famous actor?" Emma asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh, really? And what was his name?" she pressed while you tried hard to come up with an excuse for your secret interactions with Cillian.

"Cillian Murphy," Lindsay confirmed, drawing out his name with a mixture of admiration and envy, causing Emma's chin to drop.

"The ‘Cillian Murphy’?" she repeated, causing Lindsay to nod, waiting for an explanation.

"Cillian is my step-father's brother. We ran into each other at the hotel last night and quickly grabbed a bite to eat. That's all. He was just being nice, paying for my meal" you lied to Lindsay whereas Emma knew that Cillian must have been the married man you were sleeping with.

“Cillian Murphy is your uncle?” Lindsay asked, shocked and confused. “Shut the fuck up. Can you introduce me?” she then wanted to know and you quickly shook your head.

“Firstly, he is not my uncle. He is my step-father’s brother. And secondly, he is married to Danielle Murray. She too is a famous actress,” you explained, causing Emma to furrow her eyebrows.

Her mind reeled with thoughts and questions, but she decided to hold them off for now. "That's interesting," she commented nonchalantly, pretending she wasn't shocked before, eventually, pulling you aside to speak with you in private.

***

"You are sleeping with Cillian Murphy?" Emma exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. “This is fucking insane, you know!” Emma exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

"I know. It just happened one night, at our house," you replied, shrugging casually, trying to play it cool.

“At your house?” Emma asked, not having known the specific of your first encounter.

“Yes. He stayed over after a fight with his wife and one thing let to another,” you explained cautiously and her reaction to this revelation was fuelled with both, amusement and concern.

“So you just let him pop your cherry huh?” she laughed, recalling you telling her that, several weeks ago, Cillian came over for the first time and you had been crushing on him ever since.

“I can’t say I blame you. I rewatched Peaky Blinders last week and he is rather fine, even for his age,” Emma told you before continuing on with a lecture. "

"But he is basically family, and you have to be careful. What is if the press gets wind of this? Or his wife? His kids?" Emma worried, her brows furrowing in concern.

"They won't. I will be careful, okay?" you told her just as the school bell rang.

Meanwhile, at Cillian’s house…

Danielle stormed through the door of their luxurious Dublin home, her eyes ablaze with anger. Her hands shook as she clenched and unclenched them as she waited to confront Cillian in respect to his whereabouts.

Cillian stood in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. He paused when he heard the footsteps approaching and turned around slowly, anticipating his wife's reaction.

"Where have you been?" Danielle demanded, her voice shrill and accusatory.

"In London, for work," he lied, furrowing his eyebrows and putting on the perfect act. "You knew that," he fired back with annoyance.

"Bullshit. I checked your schedule. You never even left the country," Danielle accused, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"It was an interview that came up last minute, Danielle. You need to relax," countered calmly, his voice neutral, yet carrying a slight undertone of irritation.

"Relax? Really?" scoffed Danielle, her fury growing stronger. "And how should I relax knowing that you're cheating on me?"

"Calm down, Danielle," Cillian instructed, trying to placate her. "I haven't cheated on you," Cillian tried to claim but Danielle shook her head.

"No? Then the fact that you paid 678 Euro for a room at the Four Seasons is just a coincidence?" Danielle probed, her suspicion heightened.

"Absolutely," Cillian responded indignantly, raising his eyebrows. "I booked a room, for a friend who stayed there with his wife," he added, feigning ignorance.

"And who may that be?" Danielle snapped, her voice trembling with rage.

The air was thick with tension, and Cillian felt his pulse quicken.

"What does it matter?" he asked under his breath, rubbing his forehead as he watched his wife fume with anger. He knew that he needed to handle this situation carefully, but his conscience wasn't letting him sleep soundly.

"Just tell me who she is Cillian. It wouldn't be the first time you cheated on me," Danielle continued, her voice shaking with frustration and betrayal.

"There is no one else, Danielle," Cillian lied again, knowing that it was pointless to confess at this stage. "Please trust me," he implored, trying to maintain eye contact despite the tension in the room.

"Trust you? You lie every time I ask you about your 'work trips'," Danielle spat, her voice filled with bitterness.

"Who is she?" she insisted, her voice trembling with uncontrollable emotion.

"Stop it, Danielle. Enough already," Cillian snapped, losing patience with her constant questions.

"No, you stop it! Stop fucking cheating on me. You slept with someone in a hotel room while you were supposed to be home, with me," Danielle roared, angered and confused.

"I told you I am not fucking cheating," Cillian said, his tone cold and defensive.

"Okay. Fine. I give you the benefit of the doubt, but...," Danielle began to say before Cillian could find the strength to counter her.

"But, what Danielle?" he asked. "But, if you ever find out that I did cheat on you, then you would leave me and take Max with you? Cillian barked, knowing very well that this would be the thread she was going to make next.

"He is not your son, Cillian!" Danielle reminded him, causing Cillian to shake his head.

"That's not the point, and you know that," he told her before walking away from the conversation.

“Stop seeing her, Cillian, and I will forget about it for now,” Danielle told him more calmly now, but Cillian simply sighed.

“Alright,” he then said, nodding just as Max walked through the door, not having overheard the conversation.

“Hey, dad,” he said, greeting Cillian before asking him whether they could go to the movies on the weekend to watch the new Marvel movie.

Tag List Insert

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie

#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 2 months

Text

and we don't notice any time pass

Summary: another 2am meeting between R and Wanda where they talk for hours and lose track of time, catching up on everything that's happened in the thirteen years they were apart

Word Count: 2004 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: talking about Sokovia being blown up and dead parents. very briefly proofread Part 3 of 'Half of My Hometown' series masterlist <- previous part | next part ->

A/N: all ‘Sokovian’ phrases are just Google translated Serbian, translations will be in brackets after.

»»————-　★　————-««

“You're back,” Wanda beams, spotting you as soon as you round the corner. She's standing outside the gym; from her appearance, it seems she hasn't gone in yet, but her back is to the door and her attention is focused solely on you.

An odd feeling of relief washes over you, and it's only then that you realise how tense you had been until now, having spent your whole evening wondering if your 2 am meetings with Wanda would become a routine. Your stomach flips at the confirmation that, yes, she has come around again during your work hours, and she seems excited to see you. It's impossible not to mimic her smile.

“I am back,” you say at last, now standing in front of her, “though this is my job route, so I don't have much choice.”

Wanda's face falls at your words, and you suddenly wish you could backtrack and say something better. “Oh, right, of course,” Wanda mutters before you have a chance to fix your mistake, and now you're at a loss on what to say.

“You're back though!” is what you settle on, forced cheeriness added in an attempt to lift the atmosphere once more. It seems to work, because Wanda smiles again and nods.

“I am, I'd just… I'd rather come here than sleep at the moment.”

You nod in understanding, before Wanda asks, “how long are you working?”

“Next guard takes over at 7.”

“Do you have to walk around the whole building?”

“Just the West side, there are a couple others guarding the East side and the perimeter outside,” you answer, then grin, “why? are you trying to form a plan of attack or something?”

Wanda blushes at the accusation, stammering on her words as she rushes to defend herself. “No! I'm not, I promise! I, just- can I come around with you?”

You nod earnestly before you answer; seeing the hesitation in her eyes, you want to confirm she can before you make a joke of it. But when she smiles and shuffles closer to your side, you're in the clear. “So you just want to be a guard then, not just get past them, I see.”

She makes the mistake of rolling her eyes, which only inspires you to double down as the two of you start to walk away from the gym.

“No, it's okay, it's okay, you don't have to be embarrassed about it. I know you did always look up to me as your elder when we were younger, these things don't change.”

“You're four months older, that doesn't earn you elder respect” she scoffs, before muttering “само те стари,” quietly under her breath, but you catch the insult in your mother tongue all the same. (It just makes you old.)

“деца ових дана, без поштовања.” (Kids these days, no respect.)

She looks up to you suddenly, with a raised eyebrow and open mouth.

“You think I would forget my own language?” you tease, causing her mouth to purse until it's practically a straight line and her brows to furrow in thought. “I was thirteen when I left, not three, I'm not going to forget it that easily.”

“I didn't think you'd have much opportunity to practise. Your aunt only spoke a little, yes?”

A strange warmth fills your chest at the information Wanda remembers; half of your lives have passed with the two of you separated, but she still remembers your main concern from when you left.

You nod. “She learnt a bit more when she took me in, just to help communicate. Do you remember what my English was like?”

“Yes,” Wanda laughs, “I always tried to teach you, you were awful.”

You laugh too at the memory, “I've come a long way since, but she definitely couldn't rely on me understanding English at the start.”

“I always wanted to go back,” you continue quietly, “I keep all my settings in Sokovian so I don't forget it.”

“Back home always felt weird without you.”

“You know, when I first moved here, my aunt would put the Sokovian news channels on for me. It was the only thing I'd watch and pay attention to, trying to see if you and- you and Pietro ever appeared; then I'd know you were safe.”

Wanda stalls at your confession; even with your head bowed, you feel her eyes turn to you, scanning your face quickly before she looks away, back to fiddling with her hands.

“Did you ever see us?” she says quietly. You shake your head. “What was it like? moving away?”

You shakily exhale, so Wanda gives you time to properly formulate your answer. “It was tough,” is what you finally say. “Obviously my aunt took me after my parents…”

“Yeah.”

“She took me back straight after burying them, so I couldn't visit or anything. I didn't have them, I didn't have you, and I barely knew my aunt then. I was somewhere completely new and it felt like it was just me.”

“It's a big adjustment,” Wanda says, and you know she's talking first-hand. For you, the move was 13 years ago, you've adjusted, moved on, and mostly forgotten how tricky it was. But for Wanda, it's only been a month since she left her home country behind. You nod again in understanding and start to walk a little bit closer to your old friend.

“They have different priorities here, right?”

“Yes! There's so much just… just…”

“Everything?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, dropping her hands from mid air to her sides now her point is made.

You laugh, remembering your own reaction to the culture change. “Have the others taken you to Target yet?”

Wanda frowns and shakes her head, “I don't know what that is. Oh, but they took me to IKEA!”

“Bit different to the Sokovian street markets, huh?”

“I've never seen anything so big, and so much stuff all in one place?”

“It still feels massive to me, even now. Oh but you should have seen the old SHIELD headquarters! This place doesn't even come close, it was gigantic! Put all those ammunition facilities back home to shame.”

“You worked for SHIELD?”

“Mhm, then I moved here when it was destroyed.”

“What happened to it?”

“Turns out HYDRA had been running it. Black Widow and Captain America, and, uh, your new teammate? The Falcon? They dropped a helicarrier on the HQ and made all the misdeeds public. It's a bit hard for any organisation to come back from that.”

Wanda is quiet, but she doesn't take her eyes off of you, so eventually you turn and smile at her focused expression, “What is it?” you prompt.

“Nothing! I just didn't think you'd move over here and start working for the American government, as a spy . Pietro and I, we used to imagine what you were doing after you left; I thought you would be a librarian or something, something calm away from the war. Pietro said you would be a teacher. He said you would want to help people.”

“Then I hate to break it to you, Wands, but Pietro knew me better,” you laugh, “I wanted to help people at SHIELD, go back to Sokovia and rebuild it to what they told us it was like before the war. They even paid for me to get a diplomacy degree if I trained at the Academy at the same time, so it seemed like a no brainer.”

“‘Course, I didn't realise it was my co-workers dropping the bombs and keeping the war going. They kept that hidden from me,” you add quietly. SHIELD had been the best option for you, and really the only opportunity you had to pursue the path you wanted, but that didn't make up for the shame you had felt when all the information had been revealed. Admitting it to Wanda especially, who'd held anger against the Americans and their weapons since you were children, causes the embarrassment and guilt to resurface.

She doesn't yell at you though, as you had expected, or berate you for betraying your roots. She just nods, sighs, and pauses just as she's about to speak. You wait for her to say what she has to say.

“I guess they got us both.” You raise an eyebrow in her direction, and she continues to explain, “HYDRA… they didn’t hide behind SHIELD in Sokovia, they approached us directly, promised we could help Sokovia if we joined them and volunteered for experiments. It seemed like the most promising way to make change, so Pietro and I; we signed up, they experimented on us. Then, well… you know what HYDRA are actually like. So now I’m here, and I have this-” she lifts her hand up and a soft red glow emanates from her palm, dancing around her fingertips. “We all wanted what’s best for Sokovia, right? Didn’t turn out so well though.”

“No, not quite,” you mumble. Your gaze doesn’t stray from Wanda’s downcast face, but your mind is practically fighting a war of its own on what your next action should be; as much as you want to comfort her, after 13 years apart the action no longer feels so instinctive. Do you hug her? Offer a shoulder to cry on? A pat on the back? You just don’t know anymore.

You’re about to risk it, raising an arm and hovering it just over her shoulder – that way, you can offer some comfort and pull her closer if she accepts it – when another voice calls your name. You startle and drop your arm back to your side, then look up to see your co-worker, the one assigned to the shift after yours, approaching with a smile. Wanda’s head jolts up too, looking between the two of you and taking a step to the side as he gets nearer; she pulls her sleeves over her hands before fidgeting with her rings – a nervous action that hasn’t changed in all the time you’ve known her. Once again, you find your gaze lingering on her rings, smiling slightly to yourself when her fingers instantly move to twist one particular ring – it had always been her favourite; even in the years where you wore it on your own hand, she had always reached for it when stressed, pulling your hand into her lap just to twist at the ring. The day before you left, when she’d repeated the action, you’d taken it off and slidden it onto her thumb yourself, as a keepsake to remember you by. It’s on her pinkie now, her fingers grown from the size they had been at thirteen, but your heart tugs to know she still has it.

Approaching footsteps pull you out of your thoughts again, and you quickly check your watch, your eyes widening when it reads 7am, signalling the end of your shift. You’re aware you were talking with Wanda for a while, but 5 hours? When you look back over to the woman, you start to notice the signs of exhaustion on her face and in her posture, striking you with guilt for unintentionally keeping her awake this long.

After exchanging some words with your replacement and reporting on the (lack of) events in the night, you pull Wanda aside with a smile, just to practically order her off to bed to catch up on her sleep.

She doesn’t argue, instead nodding tiredly and smiling back at you, “Will I see you tomorrow though? Same place, same time?”

“I'll be there,” you promise, watching her disappear before you even think of heading off to your own room. There's a giddy feeling in your chest and, for once, you don't overthink the interaction.

You'd missed the genuine conversations, the ones that made you smile until your cheeks hurt. There had been the occasional one at SHIELD, but they were constant with Wanda – back in Sokovia and, it seems, in the present day too. You go to bed smiling, already looking forward to the next 2 am.

next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

Series Taglist: @holiday-house-of-m @emiliaisdead @wonderingnerd @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @chasethemoon

A/N: thanks for everyone who has supported this and left nice comments so far! Hope you enjoyed this part :)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #mcu #ikan writes #ikan homh

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auncyen · 3 months

Text

Normally, you're happy to visit the Head Housemaiden's office. You've dedicated your life to Change since you came to the House, and she's guided you for many of those years, first as a teacher in various courses you took and then as a mentor as you made more and more Changes. She was even considering naming you as her successor, as her hair loses its darkness and she feels ready to take new Changes more slowly and languidly than most practicing Housemaidens. But right now, she looks at you with pity in her eyes, and you feel ice in your stomach.

"I've noticed a Change in you, Euphrasie. I'm not sure if you're aware of it…or perhaps you are, but didn't wish to talk about it," she says, adding on that last bit as some twitch in your face betrays you.

Your hands wring each other in your lap. "I'm sorry," you say.

The potential for Change is a motivating force for the faith's adherents. But all but the most innocent children know that Change is not always good. Change requires Destruction, and Change is not always voluntary or desirable.

This Change is terrifying.

"I should have told you when it started, but I thought perhaps I was just tired, or stressed--I thought it was temporary, or that I could Change to be able to work around it, but--" It's getting harder and harder to explain yourself as tears choke your throat and spring up in your eyes. You wanted to give yourself time to adapt, and in so stole time from Amandine. She could have had another successor picked by now.

"Euphrasie." Amandine reaches an open hand across her desk, and you take it. She gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and when you look at her through the haze of tears you glimpse her kind smile, one you've striven to emulate. "I'm not upset, only concerned. Changes of the mind can be very difficult to cope with, and I'm worried you've been trying to deal with this alone."

It takes at least three more minutes of crying before you can speak again. Amandine can surely discern the answer from that alone, but she waits patiently for you to speak again, her thumb rubbing over your hand in a calming gesture. "I--I didn't know what to say," you admit. "I'm--forgetting my tasks, forgetting words--I'm worried I can't even be a Housemaiden anymore, and I don't want that. I love being a Housemaiden! It's all I've ever wanted."

"You will always be welcome in this House, Euphrasie. Never doubt that," Amandine says, and you grasp onto those words even if they're not quite enough. You want to be a Housemaiden still, you want to help others Change, you want to remember. The number of things you've forgotten of late makes you feel so hopelessly adrift. "We need to figure out what is causing the Change. That's the only way to address it properly. You might still be right that it's a temporary issue of stress, and I think a break from duties may be good for you. It may be a health issue, and I do hope you'll get a check up soon and let me know if there's any support you need from the House if the physician finds anything. I was also wondering if it might be…"

She's considering you uncertainly, and you feel a new wave of trepidation wash over you. "If it might be what?"

"I don't want to hurt you by asking," she says, immediately grimacing at herself. "Let me put it this way. You say you've only ever wanted to be a Housemaiden, but is that right?"

"…Yes?" you whisper.

"I don't mean to doubt you," she says, and you wait for her to continue because you don't know how that's supposed to be anything but doubt. "Euphrasie, I remember you being different from most Housemaidens because you made a major Change before formally becoming one. I remember you had a different name, and came from a different land, and converted from a different belief. But when I try to think of the details, I get the biggest crabbing headache." She smiles in an attempt at lightheartedness, but her brow is wrinkled with worry. "But I am getting older myself. Am I wrong? Were you always a Vaugardian, an adherent of Change?"

You open your mouth to say yes, of course you've always been, it's all you remember--

"Who were you before you came to this House?"

That's such an easy question, and you start over again to tell her.

And then you start again.

And again, and again, fresh tears spilling out of you as you start to tremble. Amandine squeezes your hand. "Forget I asked, Euphrasie. Please. Breathe. Please, I'm sorry--"

How can you forget? Now that you've glimpsed how vast and yawning the hole in your mind is, how can you forget? "I can't remember. I can't remember, I can't, oh Change, I'm broken--"

Amandine's hand leaves you briefly as she gets up from her chair and circles the desk to hug you. She has to bend down a little, with you still sitting, but not very far. She's on the shorter side, and you're rather tall. Why are you tall? You don't know. You don't know. You don't know why any part of you is the way it is. You grab onto her like you're drowning at sea.

She rubs a hand on your back, soothing, and waits for you to cry yourself out as if you're the child you can't remember ever being. The shoulder of her dress is thoroughly soaked by the time you run out of tears, still shuddering with horror. There's a headache raging through your skull. You slowly manage to open your arms and let her go, though you're relieved that she doesn't let go of you completely, keeping a steadying hand on one shoulder.

"I'm going to help you however I can," Amandine promises. "You started forgetting things about two months ago, didn't you?"

You have to think hard through the pounding headache, and your throat feels too dry to speak, but you manage a nod.

"That fits, then…Euphrasie, I think you're from the island that vanished two months ago."

#euphrasie #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #islander!euphrasie #STARTING THIS ANYWAY #I still gotta figure out what's going on with the people in the house

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sketchquill · 6 months

Note

YOOOOOOOOO! FIRST YOU GOTTA BE ONE IF THE MOST TALENTED ARTIST I HAVE EVER SEEN!! SECOND YOUR GHOST OF CHRISTMAS FUTURE IS GIVING ME BRAIN ROT! And it got me thinking!

This being inspired by art that I just literally saw a minute ago by alice angel12x! With their idea of ghost of Christmas present yn!

The scene

Frank could only look at the ghost with fear as he watched them grow older by the minute. The once bright and cheerful spirit that stood tall among the crowd now appeared centuries older, their wooden skin was chipping and rotting away like an ancient oak that had been left to grow on dying soil their labored breaths showed how tired they had became but their hood hid their face from the puppet leaving his blind to their appearance but he was certain that it had changed as well. His heart ached for the spirits well being, it was thanks to them that he was able to see the warmth of the town surrounding him for so many years, a warmth that soaked deep into his bones that he never wished to forget.

He knelt down by the spirits slumped formed worry and fear filling his eyes " spirit? Please say something! Is there anything I can do?" He asked, he begged, for as much as he knew the truth, he wanted to remain naive for a little longer.

" I'm afraid cough! There isn't much you can do for a spirit dear frank, my being is far beyond your control. Its my own fault really, I saw hiw happy you were seeing everyone that I had forgotten my own limits and now I fear my time has come"

You spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as tears slowly stared to fill franks eyes. "N-no please please this cant be! There must be something I can do!" For the first time in years frank is willing to put someone else's well being above his, the idea made you smiled weakly underneath your hood.

"Theres a heart underneath that all that doom and gloom after all huh? Thank you dear frank but im afraid im already gone" you glance up at the swirling snow that surround the both of you. While frank paid no mind to it, you watched as the wind grew more aggressive causing the most beautiful sight before you mixing with the cruel glow of a blue haunting light.

" My darling, you're already here? Im afraid im worst for wear" you spoke to the air it seemed as you forced yourself to stand up. Frank tried to get a hold on your arm to held you steady yourself only for your arm to shattered into dying splinters that blew away with the wind.

Frank finally noticed the blue glow when it suddenly became like a large bonefire at the destruction of your arm but you could inky laugh as you walked on shaking legs, knocking your hollow knees together with each step.

"No there's no need for that! You cant blame a boy for not knowing, there is so much for him to learn and it is best that you take me place dont you?"

You spoke with confidence as you pulled down your hood causeing frank to lose his breath. Your once beautiful hair made of leaves had disappeared and wilted into brown dying vines that left you into a balding state, cracking lines spread across your face their source was from the now empty socket that once held one of your bright warmth filled eyes.

You look up at the hooded figure without any source of fear or worry in your entire body, something that frank was envy about as he felt fear shake his entire soul at the towering figure.

Your remaining arm reached up to the figures face, reaching into the inky blackness of the hood with some effort revealed the soft gaze of a yellow felt face that looked down at the spirit of christmas present with warmth and sadness within his eyes.

" what-what is this?" Frank asked in a shaking voice but you only could chuckle.

"No one can help who they love frank, be they a puppet or a spirit such as us. There will always be something that will block then from one another" it was almost like you were speaking with the wind, your voice rising and falling with each sound.

You slowly turned your body more fragile than a porcelain doll would as your body slowly splintered and cracked more but a smile filled with warmth still remained on your face, as if he wasnt the cause for your breaking state.

"My last kindness and his warning frank frankly, this could be your last Christmas."

You shattered, bits of wood and cloth blew through the raging wind turning into small sparks of light that were swallowed by the darkness of the winter night. Frank could only stare in awe at the sight of your dissapearing form unaware of the tears that slowly left the hooded figures eyes.

I GOT REALLY INTO THIS AND I DONT CARE MY BRAIN JUICE WAS FLOWING! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT AND I HOPE YOU DONT MIND THE SMALL ROMANCE I GAVE TO GHOST WALLY AND YN! THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!

IM GOING FERAL OVER THIS HOLY JESUS THIS IS AWESOME I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF READING THIS LIKE- AAAAA AND THE LIL’ MOMENT BETWEN GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT! Y/N AND GHOST OF YET TO COME! WALLY BEFORE Y/N SHATTERS IS SO UNDENIABLY SWEET BUT OH MY GOD IT PULLED AT MY HEART STRINGS 😭💕💖

@alice-angel12x ALICE GET OVER HERE YOU GOTTA GET OVER HERE AND READ THIS BRO 👏

#welcome home #ask

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yuutasdream · 2 months

Text

Happy birthday bae!

Warnings: cheating, possessive reader (?).

Word count: ≈550 words

Note: DNI with this post if you're under 16, Also!! Happy birthday to the most gorgeous and breathtaking man ever 🤍☺️

Yuuta waited the whole day at work for his birthday. He wanted to spend time with his girlfriend. He even told his boss that he wanted to finish his shift early, and luckily, he got permission. He drove home and opened the door with the brand new bag he bought for his girlfriend, only to hear some "noises" coming from upstairs. He left the bag and rushed upstairs, opening the door..

"What are you doing?" Yuuta looked at his girlfriend with another guy on his bed! He just couldn't believe his eyes. His one and only girl was cheating on him. He was traumatized, wishing he had never seen that. "Hey Yuu! I'm sorry!" she tried to apologize, covering her body. "It's not the first time you've told me that you'll break up with this loser, and now he found out. Are you happy?" the guy said, getting mad at her as he started wearing his clothes.

"Get out of my house!" Yuuta frowned, pushing him out. "And we're over!" he told her firmly. "Get out as well!"

After this happened, you knocked on his door holding a birthday cake, not knowing what had happened to him. Lazily, Yuuta opened the door, his eyes obviously puffy from crying. "Yuuta... What happened?" you immediately hugged him, holding his hands after pulling away from the hug. "I'll tell you... Get in," he said, smiling a bit, relieved that someone checked on him other than his friends who just texted him "happy birthday" like any other year.

You sat down on the couch near your best friend. "So... what happened exactly?" you asked, looking at him as he sighed. "I gave her everything... Then she left me and cheated on me with a much older man." You gave Yuuta a pat on the back. "Tell me, how are you feeling?" You were willing to listen to everything at that time. "I feel worthless... I did everything I could," he continued.

As Yuuta was talking, you couldn't hide the fact that you were glad they finally broke up, leaving Yuuta all for yourself. In fact, you even sent that guy to flirt with Yuuta's now ex-girlfriend so he would hate her, and you would come to the act that you're an angel who will comfort him. By that, you seemed as the only person who can truly understand him.

"You know Yuuta," you looked into his eyes deeply, "you deserve better anyway… Someone who would appreciate you and your efforts..." Yuuta thought a bit about your words, and all he could think about was you. He knows you're the only one who could comfort him immediately realizing that he saw you more than a friend. "You know y/n, let's forget about her…" he blushed looking at you, "you came to celebrate my birthday together, let's celebrate!" he smiled as you did too. "I'm glad you were born," you said giggling.

You gave Yuuta a piece of the cake and smiled. "Do you want me to feed you, my prince?" you joked, holding the spoon near his mouth. "Definitely!" both of you giggled, forgetting all that happened.

But definitely, If some other girl tries to talk to him, you'll do the same, over and over, till he chooses you. 🤍

#jjk #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #okkotsu yuuta #yuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #inuokko #jjk yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #jjk okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x you #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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gemini-sensei · 9 months

Text

You're Hired | Boss!Eli x Nanny!Reader

Chubby!Fem!Reader ○ Widowed!Dad!Hawk

Inspired by "The Nanny" because I love it. I had to do this as soon as it popped into my head. I may do multiple parts, but it just depends. @sensei-venus (update: edited)

Series Masterlist

With three young children and a job that kept him busy, Eli Moskowitz didn't know what to do with himself. There were no easy answers, not after his wife died. He stayed with the kids for a long time, helping them through the emotions they shouldn't of had to go through, but it was life. It hurt to see them like that, though he knew his youngest wouldn't remember her mom due to the fact that she was just a baby. It broke his heart to uncertain degrees.

When he returned to work, friends would help take care of the kids. It was easy when the older two were in school and the baby could go to Moon for a day. She loved helping and taking care of his precious baby girl, but it couldn't last. Before a full year passed, Moon became busier and couldn't care for the baby so much. He understood, of course, but he just wished it was easier.

So he started looking for a nanny, someone to stay in that extra room in his house who could help the kids get dressed in the morning, feed them breakfast, ensure they get to school on time. However, every interview went haywire. His kids didn't like them or the interviewees didn't like the kids. One woman was upset his 18 month old wasn't potty trained, another was picky about how many of the kids they'd be responsible for.

On the other hand, his kids were unhappy with all of them. His son, his oldest, purposefully sabotaged some interviews because he didn't like them. He blew his nose in one man's sleeve, then showed off his pet ferret to one woman who was squeamish around small animals. His oldest daughter got quiet and kicked her feet when she didn't like someone; she checked out with a coloring book while he kept talking. His youngest made it clear by crying or throwing up on an interviewee.

Eli was getting close to the end of the line. He'd interviewed a handful of people, but none of them even came close. It didn't matter to him what credentials they had or who they worked for before, they didn't meet his first standard. The most important thing he wanted to see was at least one person get along with his kids.

He thought one would make the cut, but evidently that was too much to ask for. The snobby and high class nannies wanted to work for the him, one of the biggest names in the high tech industry, but none of them were good enough.

He just wanted to find someone with class, who he could trust with his children and whom they liked.

He was in his home office late one morning when he heard the doorbell ring. He wasn't expecting any visitors, so he wasn't in a rush to answer it. He was reading a report, intent on answering the door but ultimately forgetting about it.

He need not worry, though, as his oldest daughter answered the door. She was only five, but had fairly good manners.

She smiled as she opened the door to a pretty woman, who's face lit up when she saw her. She was a little shy, but greeted the stranger politely. "Hello..."

"Well hello there," Reader said sweetly. She crouched down to the little girl's level with a soft smile. "My name is Reader. I'm opening a boutique downtown because I love to dress up. Is your mommy or daddy home?"

"Daddy's in his office," the little girl told her passively. She smiled wide. "I love playing dress up! Do you wanna play?"

Reader was a little apprehensive. She was only going around handing out fliers for her boutique, thinking that going old school would make her stand out. There was no plan on entering any of these big, lovely houses. However, as the little girl grabbed her hand, she let herself be pulled inside because she didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings.

Her bag got dropped onto a lush couch as she was shown a big box of dress up items. There were crowns and boas and vests and capes and hats and jackets and so much more. Reader was told to sit down on the floor so she could get a make over.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Reader asked softly.

"Mia."

"That's a pretty name."

"Thank you."

Mia wrapped Reader with a boa and a sparkly belt. Everything reminded Reader of her little vintage, thrifted boutique. As the items kept coming out, there were pretty garmets and jewelry. By the end, the child had dressed her in lace gloves and a long necklace. She felt like a kid again.

In the middle of getting some glittery eyeshadow put on, a roar came echoing through the house from down the hall.

A little boy came bounding into the room with a bike helmet on his head and a long red cape. He shouted and yelled from his belly, howling with laughter each time. It all came to a halt as soon as he saw Reader sitting on the living room floor.

He held a foam sword that he quickly pointed at Reader. "Who are you?"

"This is Reader," Mia giggled. "She's my new best friend."

"No, I'm your best friend!" the boy shouted and stamped his foot on the floor. "I am! I am! Not her!"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Reader said softly, calling their attention gently. "Don't you know? You can always have more than one best friend. Friends are great, so why not have tons of them to be the best?"

The kids were quiet for a moment before the boy spoke. "I think I get it."

Reader giggled and smiled. "Right?"

"Are you the best?" he asked.

"I like to think so."

Soon, the room was full of laughter and merriment again. It carried down the hall and into Eli's office. It was loud and fun, something a note above what the norm had been recently. He was curious to see what made the twins so happy, so he stood up and walked down to the living room, though he was shocked to see a stranger dancing with the kids in silly little moves around the living room.

She was dressed in some of the items he knew were from his daughter's chest of clothes. She smiled like a woman who never let the seriousness of adult life get her down. Her body was curvaceous and plump, parts of her bouncing as she danced and swayed to the tune of his kids laughing and singing whatever little song they'd come up with.

Even though she was a stranger, a light bulb went off over Eli's head as he watched them. They didn't notice him, and it allowed him a moment to observe the way she was with them.

Especially as Phoenix was about to run into the table's edge.

She gently pulled him away from it by his arm before he could slam into it with all of the full force his tiny but mighty body had.

"Whoa there! Let's be careful," Reader said.

The pause allowed her to see more of the room and the tall, imposing figure near the doorway. She straightened up and smoothed out her shirt, a guilty look dawning her face.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I've invaded your home," she said, startled and embarrassed. "I don't usually do this. Your children invited me in and I know I should have made boundaries, told them it was inappropriate, but your daughter was so excited and I couldn't tell her no. I should have, I know, and I'm so so-"

"Daddy! Daddy!" Mia shouted, running over to him. She grabbed his hand similarly to the way she did with Reader and dragged him into the center of the room. "This is Reader!"

"She's our new best friend!" Phoenix shouted happily.

Eli was unable to take his eyes off of the woman the entire time he was brought across the room and even after. As he came to a stop, he stood straight and tall, watching her carefully. His mind was speeding as fast as a bullet train, surely aware that he had lost it altogether with the thoughts that ran through it.

"Again, I'm so sorry, sir," Reader said, feeling incredibly awkward and scared. This man had every right to call the police on her and have her arrested, so she wanted to make a quick exit. So she started taking off the dress up items and set them down. "I'll go."

"No, stay," he mumbled. Just speaking it made him feel crazy. This was crazy, wasn't it? "How would you like a job?"

"What?"

"A job."

"I-I already have one. I, um, I own a little boutique in town."

"You own it?"

"Yes..."

"Keep it and come work for me. Manage that from here."

"Here?"

"I want you to be a nanny to my children."

"You don't even know me."

"I know your name-"

"I don't know yours."

"Eli Moskowitz."

He put his hand out and she stared at it stupidly for a moment before shaking it. She told him her name, then asked softly:

"Why me?"

He answered plainly, "Because you're the only person they've liked."

"Oh..."

"How well are you with babies?"

Reader was yet again taken aback. "Babies?"

"I have an 18 month old. Junie."

"Babies aren't too terrible. I love them."

"Then you're hired."

And just like that, Eli had found himself someone amazing. He just didn't know exactly how amazing she was yet. All that mattered were the cheers the twins gave as they hopped around their feet with giddy giggles and wide smiles. If only he'd known then how truly special it all would be.

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curlygirlybitchachos · 1 year

Text

The sad reality

- Cody? - Y/n's voice were so quiet, that Cody wasn't sure they really called for him.

He knows the padawan was always loud, cheerful, full of life. This little, cracked, lifeless voice can't be his chi- his Commander voice.

The padawan was sitting on the floor, their eyes full of unshed tears, looking straight at Cody. Like they were waiting for something. Like they were waiting for Cody to do something, anything. He thought about searching for Obi-wan, he was their master. He wanted to find Ahsoka, the two padawan were always together if they can. Even finding Skywalker be a better choice than Cody himself.

But there was only Cody, nobody else. He needed to choose. Be a good soldier, leave the padawan and find some help, or let himself be more than a meet droid, and take care of the kid himself.

The kid who was an of the very first people who treated the clones like living beings. The kid who spend months to memories all the names of the men. The kid who eats, sleeps, speaks, laugh with the men. The kid who help him paint his armor, who helps him with the paper work, who brings him food when he forgot to eat.

Sometimes he thinks about when the "Commander" became "Kid". When the " Good morning Sir " became " I hope you slept well, because I didn't. You kicked me all night". When the " Sir, for a minute " became " Pss... Kid.. Get over here". When the " Be careful Sir " became " Don't you dare die out there Y/n Y/l". And when the " They just another Jedi " became " They are my Jedi, my kid".

Cody looked at Y/n again, carefully. Sometimes he forgets that Y/n only a year older than him. Such a weird case, isn't it? The difference between nat-borns and clones sometimes fascinated him. He know Y/n will outlive him of course. But he wished he had more time with them. He needed more time, he wanted more time and look at him now! Instead of enjoying that little period of time a clone can live, to spend that time with the people he want, he just standing here doing absolutely nothing at all.

The sudden sadness that takes over his heart surprise him. His heart cry for the little kid in front of him. He is a clone, a high ranked soldier. How he could be so weak? How he could feel like this when he shouldn't? How is it possible for him, to dream about a little home, where Obi-wan, Y/n and him can live? Be happy? Why he can't have that? Why?

The quiet crying broke his thoughts. The little sniff and heavy breathing. His heart made the choice, there's no coming back. He approaches Y/n, he crouches down and takes Y/n face in his hands. It's so little, it's so sad. His heart hurt.

-Oh, little one. What happend? Why are you here? - he asks as comforting as possible.

But instead of an answer he gets an even sadder face, more tears and a little, broken padawan in his lap. He knows his chest plate must be uncomfortable to hug, but it's looks like Y/n just doen't bother at all. He trys to move a little, to take of the armor, but the two little hand can't let him.

They stay like that, until Y/n is in a deep and dreamless sleep in Cody's arms. He stands up with the kid and heads to his room. Halfway through he notices his General, his Obi-wan. The Jedi is a mess, his eyes are sad, worried. His posture is tense and it's looks like he is searching for something. When he notices Cody with Y/n, he let's out a big breath. Slowly, so so slowly he comes to Cody. The look he gives to Y/n is full of regret. Carefully he touches the padawan tear stained cheeks.

-I'm such a terrible master for them. Sometimes I forget they are not Anakin. They can't be... treated like him. - Cody can see, how Obi-wan is trying to swallow back his tears.

- I'm trying not to do the same mistakes I did with him. Attachment. Be indulgent. I feel like such a monster sometimes. I wish they would know how much I love them. - He looks at Cody, with all the love he can allowed for him. - But here you are my dear. Making sure I'm not fucking up everything.

Cody decided he got enough emotional damage today. He takes the jedi hand and starts walking.

-Cody?

- We are going to take a long nap. The two of you need it, I need it. - He opens the door with the code and pushes Obi -wan in. - And after the nap, we are going to talk. - Cody puts Y/n down and takes off his armor. He looks at at Obi-wan, pleading. How could Obi-wan resist? He puts his robes on the nearby chair and he lays down next to his commander and padawan.

Cody is in the middle, hugging his two Jedi like his life depends on it. Obi-wan falls asleep quickly, nuzzled into Cody chest. On the other side Y/n is holding Cody's arm in a death grip.

Cody couldn't fall asleep just yet. Finally in his little paradise he wants to savor the moments. Like this he can feel peace taking over his soul. He knows when they wake up this little safe place is gone. The talk will be destroying but without it the silence could cause more damage. He believes that they can fix it. He can count on his men, Rex, Ahsoka, even Skywalker.

When Cody finally falls asleep he dreams of the little house, maybe on Naboo, where the three of them can finally have their happy ending.

Unfortunately, deep down, where his inhibitor chip connect to his brain, he knows that future never comes.

---------------------------------------------------

Okay, so maybe i'm gonna regret this but we live once I guess. So finally a get my shit together and wrote a fan fiction. Not just a quote or a dialogue one. A full ass fan fiction. And yeah, maybe this is my first one and the little one have some flaws but I'm proud of it. So I hope all of you enjoy it, and do not forget. Without you, your comments, you like, your share I never started or tryed to write this. So thank you guys. You are the best. 💕

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five-rivers · 8 months

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Loving the foray back into Generator Rex stuff. I was obsessed with that show but honestly don't remember much that happened after Cesar showed up for the first time. I just remember being really upset that Six never got his memories back. Like SURE he accepts Rex's role in his life but the EXPERIENCES are gone from his memory now. That hurts.

It does. 😭

This isn't quite on topic, but this also gave me an idea for a little snippet. <3

Rex drummed his fingers against the leather cover of his journal, thinking. It had been most of a year since he'd started writing in it, updating it whenever he could. It was full of thoughts, feelings, speculation, copies of the incident reports White sometimes made him write out, memories from before he'd gotten the journal, summaries of training, dreams, rambling about friends, enemies, and fights, anything and everything that came to mind when he had a spare half hour a pen or a pencil, or when Holiday got on an education kick and wanted him to practice grammar or spelling or something.

It was only half full. Rex didn't have a whole lot of spare half hours. He tried, though. His interest in filling the journal up was backed at least partially by fear. There was a lot that he really, desperately, wanted to know about himself, if he ever forgot again. There was a lot he wanted to know about the people around him.

There was a lot in the little book about White, Noah, Bobo, and Holiday.

There was a lot about Six.

Six, who had just forgotten everything himself.

Six, who had given him the journal in the first place.

Six, who had only lost his memory because Rex had been so impatient to test Caesar's machine.

Okay, he knew that wasn't completely accurate, and he was hardly wallowing in guilt, or whatever. If anything, he'd blame Caesar's invention skills and Six's weird propensity for stabbing machines instead of, like, going after something "upstream," or unplugging them.

Rex could do a lot of things with machines, but lack of power was a stumbling block even for him.

But, point was, Rex was delaying. It should be easy to give this to Six. To give him something about what he'd lost. Rex owed him that much. But the journal was so personal… Rex hadn't written it expecting anyone else to ever read it. Not even Six.

It was hard.

This whole thing was hard.

(It wasn't fair. Forgetting sucked. Being forgotten sucked. It all sucked. He had a lot more sympathy for Caesar, now.)

He took a deep breath. He wanted to give this to Six. He wanted to share these memories with him. He didn't want to be the only one who knew these things. He didn't want to be the only one who remembered.

Not when he might forget at any moment.

He really wished Caesar's machine had worked. Either time.

He stood up and opened the door, journal still in his hand. He second-guessed himself all the way to the lab, where Six was getting another check up, courtesy of Holiday.

"Hey, um, what's up?" asked Rex, still not quite ready to make a decision.

"My blood pressure, apparently," said Six, putting his glasses back on. "I don't understand how this is more stressful than killing people for money."

"It isn't about stress," said Holiday, rolling her eyes. "You're just six years older. Bodies change. What about you, Rex? On the way to the Petting Zoo? Or just checking in?"

"Uh," said Rex. "Yeah. The Petting Zoo."

"I still don't understand why it's called that," grumbled Six.

"It's ironic," explained Holiday.

"Anyway!" said Rex, loudly. He walked up to Six and shoved the journal at him. "I'm lending this to you. I want it back by the end of the week, okay? Don't let White see it, it's private." One of the very few private things he had, actually. Maybe that's why he was so scared. "Okay! Thanks! Gotta go! Bye!"

He ran.

Six drummed his fingers against the leather cover of the journal, thinking. Long plane rides, even on jump jets, gave you a lot of time to think.

It had been nearly seven months since Rex had given it to him. Six since Rex had disappeared in that fight with Breach.

It was high time he gave it back to him. Even if he had to go through Providence to do it.

#generator rex #gen rex #prompt fill #ask #answer

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makingspiritualityreal · 3 months

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Lessons from my Anime Phase

Many years ago, before I matured into my spiritual journey, this used to be an anime blog. I don't regret this phase of my life, even though I completely outgrew it, because I believe it taught me something important.

The content of a creation is more important than the form. There is anime (sadly not as many as you would think) that is a good piece of art. There are regular movies that suck. These years taught me to look deep beyond the surface form and into the meaning of any creation. I'm still waiting for a movie as good at depicting the power of wishful thinking and self repression as Perfect Blue.

Supressing one's emotions leads to serious repercussions. One of the reasons some people find anime so weird is because it is literally an outlet for the collective mentality and emotionality of Japanese societal pressure. It feels exaggerated, but it is a reaction to the external forced numbness and politeness the Japanese society is plagued with. If you don't deal with how you feel regularly and don't express it and process it, if you don't make friends with your demons, you keep bubbling like a cauldron. It leads to having a very edgy, very draining life, not being present with yourself. It leads to not being able to function and ultimately making simple things feel like the end of the world.

Getting older is awesome. I would never come back to my past. Every morning felt like torture. Sometimes, even if life is never perfect, it moves you on in simpler ways that allow for balance. Establishment of healthy routines does wonders for mental peace. The Universe putting you in an environment where you can do that, after years of having that taken away from you, feels blissful. With time comes perspective and you can see your life shaping up and taking you somewhere. That allows you to approach the rest of your life with the same philosophy. I can read this post another 10 years into the future, and think wow, my life got even better. But at least now I am relaxed about it and don't overthink how every tiny little thing can go and I don't try to control or micromanage the future.

Youth is overrated. Hottness is overrated. Very few people really get to enjoy being young and hot, and those that do, are probably on Youtube's most watched list now. Being young and hot only pays off if you happen to be an artist, you're in a good film, or you're lucky enough to be in a music video. With those things, you build a legacy you will have forever. But most young women spend their youth and beauty on dating guys they wish they could forget in their 30s. At least I can say I spent it on spiritual growth, which I am really proud of. I was younger and "hotter" once, but paradoxically I feel like I'm becoming more beautiful. I had absolutely no benefits from being young and hot. I had no good relationships and everyone irl always criticized me for breathing. I never felt attractive. My highlights were compliments from my online friends, because noone around me actually thought well of me in my physical life. I'm married now, but this is my first serious adult relationship. I didn't have any good relationships that really appreciated my looks back then. So whatever has passed, hasn't really been used anyway. I was very insecure because I lived surrounded by unfair criticism from many people, who should have been supporting me but betrayed me. Maybe some people have fun in their youth, I honestly didn't. Moving away from all the people that made my youth something I'm glad to put behind me was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Being different growing up is hell for everybody, no matter what form it takes. Being an outcast is probably the number one debilitating thing that makes youth difficult. You have no role models, you have no support, you endure extra pressure. But over time, even those that are different end up finding their place, and they realise they were just different to people around them in their early environment, but they're not that different from the rest of the world.

#spiritual journey #spiritual growth #spirituality #spiritual awakening #personal

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kittyball23 · 5 months

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hi again!! can u make a lil AU fanfic where it takes place at the time after branch sees floyd in the diamond prison, and they feel very sad and miss each other after branch leaves, so they end up singing "teardrops on my guitar" by taylor swift about each other with a few lyric changes such as one to be "i laugh cause it's just so funny" and the name "drew" in the song is replaced with "branch" and "floyd"? oh, and the girl in the song can be referencing to poppy too. if you're busy with another fanfic, i understand! thank you <33

Hi! I finished this - and I apologize in advance if some of the changed lyrics are cringe 😅😬

Teardrops (a Trolls fanfic)

Despite Branch’s physical presence within the caterbus - his girlfriend by his side and Tiny Diamond at the wheel - it was his mind that was a grand distance away.

The situation couldn’t exactly be helped - he’d known this from the start. There wasn’t much he could do without the Family Harmony breaking the diamond imprisonment. And the plan hadn’t been thought of much aside from actually infiltrating the Rage Dome and reaching Floyd. This little fact had made itself obvious when they’d arrived and done little more than have a brief reunion.

But just because it had been brief didn’t mean that it hadn’t been meaningful. No, in fact, it very much was.

And the fact that it was is what brought the blue Troll to his troubled state. He couldn’t forget the way his brother’s face lit when he saw him, nor the warmth that blossomed within his own chest for his own joy at seeing him too. And Branch was very much delighted when Floyd had realized that he was a man and not a baby anymore, unlike their older brothers’ beliefs. But he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Floyd was the bro who had always known him best. Which is why he’d known that Branch would remain in grave danger should he have stayed behind.

Still though, hardly a minute’s time for a reunion was certainly not enough to make up for the twenty-plus years absence, and he missed him dearly.

So, as Tiny Diamond maneuvered Rhonda throughout the hallways of the Rage Dome and Poppy comforted the still teary-eyed Crimp, Branch comforted himself in the manner that Floyd had told him of years prior: by singing.

“Floyd looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see

That I want and I'm needing everything that we should be…”

__________________________________________

Naturally, Floyd missed Branch as well. He’d sang to himself quietly plenty of times before within the diamond imprisonment.

And so, tuning out his other brothers’ argumentative words, and Velvet and Veneer’s excited chatter as they made their way to the racecar that would bring them to the Rage Dome’s red carpet, he lamented a tune.

“I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about

And she's got everything that I have to live without…”

He hadn’t caught Branch’s companion’s name, but with the assumption that his little bro was now a man, the pink-haired Troll who’d come to assist in the rescue was likely his brother’s girlfriend. He wouldn’t know of how they’d met, but he did know that she probably had been by Branch’s side far longer than himself. A tinge of jealousy pricked at him - envy for the time she had gotten to know him as he was now - but Floyd cast it away to sing some more.

“Branch talks to me, and we find that we’re still so chummy

And I’m glad to see that he’s all I ever thought he’d be…”

Time had passed, it was true, but the magenta-haired Troll was delighted to find that Branch was still elated to see him. His brother was truly grown now, and it was something that filled Floyd with great pride.

__________________________________________

Branch, on the other hand, wished he could say the same for Floyd’s condition. His older brother was looking quite sickly within the imprisonment, oddly transparent and hair streaked with white.

“He said I had to go, but it just isn’t right,

I wonder if he knows I thought of him for many nights…”

He’d told his brother he wasn’t leaving without him, and yet he did. While it was apparent that there were no better options in the rush of the moment, it still wasn’t sitting well with Branch. Emotion poured into the last verse of his song as a result.

“He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar

The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star

He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do…”

When Branch was finished, letting the last notes linger off into the air, he slumped his shoulders and sighed. The song helped him feel a little better, but he wouldn’t feel true relief until he knew his brother was freed. He felt a hand pat him on his back, and looked up to see Poppy. She flashed him a gentle smile of reassurance, and he reciprocated along with a small nod, focusing back on the mission and what they had to do next. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen, but somehow and in some way he would ensure that Floyd - and the rest of their brothers that had been wrongly captured - would come out of this fix safe and sound.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #branch trolls #floyd trolls #poppy trolls #crimp trolls #rhonda trolls #tiny diamond trolls #dreamworks #taylor swift #fanfiction #kittyball writes #thanks for the ask!#kittyball answers

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billthedrake · 1 year

Text

DYNASTY

This story was inspired by A4F Tales' (@talesfromunderthemattress ) story Parental Unit. Consider this an unofficial sequel of sorts.

Kevin was driving. He almost always insisted on driving if it was the both of us. Now as I looked over at my older brother, I was glad he was behind the wheel since it gave me a chance to scope him out. Even now, after 8 years of being married, at least in our minds, I never got sick of looking at him. His hairline was receding but if anything that made his solid coach bod even better looking, kind of the best of both worlds, being a 31 year old dude starting to rock the daddy look a little.

"You think Dad hit the bars tonight?" I asked. Still feeling the glow of date night and the buzz of the extra glass of wine I had because I wasn't driving.

Kevin's normally serious expression turned into a slight laugh of a grin. "Probably bro. You know how he's alwasy going on about not getting enough pussy."

I chuckled and puffed out my chest like Dad as I imitated him. "What you boys have going on is great and all... but I'm 50/50, you know," I said in my best Craig Stansell baritone.

Kevin laughed. "Whatever it takes, babe," he said, looking away from the road quickly to flash me a grin. "Besides, the old man's almost 60. Let him have his pride."

"58 and a very fine 58," I chimed in. "You think we ever push him too much?"

My husband seemed to think that over a second. "Not really, no. If anything, maybe not enough." He patted my thigh. "If he found another woman, you know, settled down again... would you be upset, Kyle?"

I didn't have to think of my answer. "Selfishly, yes. But I want him to be happy bro, you know that."

"I do too, of course," Kevin continued, thinking out loud as he turned into our subdivision, where we'd been shacking up as brothers ever since I moved down to Florida to work under him in the college football program he coached. "I just think, you know, he's kind of what makes our relationship work so well."

I'd thought of that too. Kevin and I had both given up our asses to each other, many times, and would gladly continue to do so. But we both preferred topping and all around loved the rush of fucking a man. "We'd make it work regardless, Kevin," I objected. "But I know what you mean."

He nodded and held up his left hand after he turned toward our street. "It was fun wearing our bands when we go out."

"Fun's an understatement," I growled softly. It had been a nice romantic evening, but my big brother was gonna get me hard, fast. "Wish we could do it more."

"It's risky," Kevin said, lust in his voice. "But we'll have to find a way."

The Florida air was warm and muggy. That's the one thing I'd never get used to, but beyond that this was paradise. Maybe because it's a place Dad could take an early retirement to and not bat an eye, living in an in-law addition behind our place.

"Hey guys," our father said, peeling his eyes off a Ravens-Steelers game on TV. Ever since coaching college ball, Kev and I relished our Sunday days off, and had grown less interested in following the NFL religiously. But Dad was still sports obsessed and maybe missed his own coaching days, more than a little. "How was date night?"

Kevin casually patted Dad's meaty shoulder through the man's T-shirt. It still blew my mind how casually our father had sussed out me and Kevin's sexual relationship, early on and how he not only didn't seem to mind but actually covered for us. Only later did I discover he'd fooled around with our Uncle Rick growing up.

"Great," my older brother said, looking over at me with a wink. "Nice to have some one-on-one time with my special man."

Dad grumbled. "You boys should take your special time any goddamn time you want. Forget I'm here if you have to. You guys are married, and just because you asked me..."

"All right, Dad," Kevin laughed, holding up his hands like he was 17 and being delivered another lecture. "Me and me husband are gonna go to our bedroom and have hot date night sex, OK?"

Dad got a big grin on his gruffly handsome mug. Unlike Kevin he still had his full head of hair though it was almost entirely gray now and maybe not as thick as it once was. "That's more like it."

Kevin patted his shoulder and turned to walk back to our room. I knew he was horny from our conversation, and since yesterday was game day and as usual we didn't usually get around to sex, my brother was undoubtedly feeling as backed up as I was. "Good night, Dad," he said.

"Good night," I said to my father, only leaning in for a quick peck of a kiss. On the lips. "You OK on your own tonight, Dad?" I asked.

"Son... if you don't get back there quick, your brother's gonna have some major blue balls," he joked.

I about asked about his blue balls, but instead just took the hint. "All right, Dad. Have a good one."

Kevin was already naked when I got to the master bedroom. I liked stripping for him as he watched and stroked his fat brother bone. "Jack is doing a great job with you," he said, referring to the strength and conditioning coach for the team. Even if I wasn't a player, I took advantage of the man's expertise and encouragement. While Kevin had a naturally medium-build coach bod, I was getting more jacked, almost like a tight end. The more I did, the more my husband loved it.

"Remind me to thank him," I grinned, stepping forward naked to the bed.

We were both horny but we also loved the physicality of making out before swapping blow jobs.

I took my big brother's dick into my mouth, slowly working him up. "Damn, suck me KS," he urged, using my initials as a pet name ever since we first fooled around, back in the day. "Suck your big brother." Those words never failed to turn me on. I blew him with longer deeper mouth strokes, using my hands to feel his hairy balls and hold his prick. Kevin was in shape, but that coach-bod padding felt real nice and softly furred against my forehead as I managed a deep throat.

"FUCK!" my husband grunted, holding me down playfully on to his hairier crotch. "You're too good to me, man." He let up on his grip and I started bobbing again, trying to work him to a good, heavy cum.

Only as Kev was getting too close, he pulled me off, gently pushing my head back once his thick prick cleared my wet lips. "Let me return the favor, bro."

I nodded and I knelt on the bed, letting my older brother lean forward and start licking me. "God, I love date night," he hissed before he bagan taking me into his mouth."

It was hot, very hot, watching my successful head coach of a brother go down on me, his masculine face getting an intent look as he did his best to blow me. It had taken a few years actually to convince my cocky brother to actually go down on me. Now, he took oral service as a serious job, as much dedicated work as studying game tape. You'd think that approach would be a turn off, but instead it drove me wild to see Kevin treat my pleasure like his biggest mission in life.

I could have let him get me off, but something was on my mind.

"Think we should invite Dad back, bro?"

I thought Kevin might be pissed off or at least bark his usual reminder that it was date night. Instead he pulled off my hard dick and slurped back the excess spit before he nodded, "Go get him."

I leapt up like an excited puppy and strutted into the living room, naked and hard. Dad was still watching the game, and I startled him when I put both hands on his shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. "Feel like joining us?" I asked simply.

He looked up and his eyes went wide when he realized my nakedness. Kevin wasn't the only one into my new jacked-up body. "Don't want to spoil your date night, Kyle," he said softly.

"When did you ever spoil anything, Dad?" I asked. "But it's up to you. We'd love to have you with us tonight."

He nodded, and god I could tell he was horny for it. "If you're sure."

"Sure I'm sure," I said. I gave a reminder. "But it's the master bedroom."

We had a ritual about this. Turns out Dad was on board, as always. "I want that," he said quietly but confidently.

I appeared first, and Kevin was already lubing up his cock, confident Dad would come in too.

"Hey Dad."

It wasn't Kevin who said that but our father, who was stepping out from behind me and peeling off his T-shirt. His 58 year old frame had always been muscular, an ex-jock's build, but since moving to join us in Florida, he'd kept at the weights hard to stay solid. He was very much a silver muscle daddy, tanned and buff, though with the telltale roughness in his skin from a man that age.

"Pop says you guys want me to join you," our father added, getting into the psychodrama we'd honed over the years. One that played out not every night but at least once a week.

"Come on, son," Kevin said, patting the mattress and scooting to make a spare spot. "We love having you in our bed."

Dad never played favorites, but when we did role reversal like this, Kevin was Dad and I was Pop and that just intensified the bond he had with his eldest. I watched as Dad scooted next to my brother-husband, letting Kevin take the lead to claim a kiss as Dad's furry muscle daddy body almost arched like a cat in Kevin's greedy embrace.

I never got sick of watching those two men kiss. It was romantic and sexual at the same time, in equal parts.

It turned me on to see how much our father loved it. His old man had been a legendary football coach, and after a number of threesomes Kevin and I sussed out that Dad had some giant-sized Daddy Issues of his own. A little role play and pushing the envelope and we settled in on this.

Dad was our son only when joining us in the master bedroom, but we embraced it so heavily that for that time it felt real to us. Real to Kevin, real to me, and real to our dad.

For his part, Kevin outright loved playing Dad to our father. As hot as the sex was between me and my brother, this brought out his more assertive side.

Already he was making his way down Dad's silver-furred body, kissing down that mature muscle and nudging our father's legs up and back. Dad complied. "Oh yes, Dad," he hissed. "Eat out my son hole."

He got into it, into that intimate connection between my brother's tongue and his sphincter, gently loosened from Kev's and my regular fucks. "God, Pop, I love you guys," he hissed as I lay next to him. And like that, me and my father were kissing. Deep, tongues battling, sucking the air from one another.

We got lost in that incest kiss. Me being daddy for my father and both of us loving that head-fuck. Either we made out longer than I expected, or Kevin was real impatient that night. Before I knew it, Dad pulled back and turned to look at Kevin who was holding our father's legs and entering him with that heavy brother cock of his.

"God, yeah," Dad said. "Dick me, Dad. I need it so bad, sir."

The S word was like poppers to Kevin. He growled and plowed right in. The first time he'd taken Dad like that I was pissed off and a little worried. But turns out Dad loved it. Even if that ex-NFL-er cock softened at the rough intrusion, Dad was always back to full hardness quickly.

That's how it played out now. I watched excitedly as the dick that made me steadily got its lead hardness again. I slicked my father's prick up with lube and slowly stroked while Kevin pounded him with harder faster stokes.

"Fuck, son," my coach brother hissed, throwing that beefy body into an athletic performance. Even if I preferred to top more than bottom these days, just watching my husband in rut made my vers side rare up and crave Kevin inside me. We'd have to see how long I'd go before making that a reality.

"Fuck me Dad!" our father bellowed, getting real into it, his hips bucking a little to work his cock in my lubed fist and to meet the fantasy patriarch's thrusts. "Use my hole, sir."

Kevin's face scrunched up and I knew immediately he was coming. One of those sudden, no warning orgasm. His normally confident voice became a succession of whimpers as he ejaculated deep and heavy inside our father.

"Hell yes," our dad his, excited to be bred.

I was horny as hell now. Impatiently, I got up and practically pushed Kevin out of the way. "Fuck 'im babe," he growled, placing his meaty paw on my strong shoulder. I looked down and saw his amazing prick wet with fresh cum. The view of Dad's asshole was better. Legs spread wide, our father showed off the now fucked-open hole and the incestuous creampie oozing out.

I'd never done this before, though it had been on my mind. At that moment, horniness overcame any hesitation I had. I leaned down and started licking Dad's pucker.

"Oh SHIT, Bro!" Kevin exclaimed. I didn't have to see to know my brother's softening prick surged right back into a hard watching me felch on his load. It was evident in my brother's voice.

Dad actually chuckled at how nasty I was being. But didn't care. I licked deeper now, rooting for a stronger taste of Kev's cum. I figured if I was gonna have my first felch experience, I'd go all the way.

Dad helped me out, by pushing out a good bit of Kevin's load. That familiar brother-husband flavor filled my mouth, and it drove me wild to realize just how much he'd cum.

"Oh fuck!" I growled as I pulled back, my throat half clogged with that assload. I rushed as I got into the saddle. I hoped to god Kev's fuck was foreplay enough for Dad, because I was coming in. My entry was rougher and more sudden than Kevin's had been.

"Yeah, Pop," Dad hissed. No softening cock this time, my father's meat twitched in its hardness as I boned him.

The dad-son mating was fevered. Dad clenching at my body and me doing my best Kevin Stansell topping imitation. As I fucked Dad and as Dad called me Pop with every other stroke, I imagined doing this to my father over the years, as the man entered his 60s, and even his 70s...

The idea almost tripped my trigger but I held off so Dad could cum. I didn't want to leave the old man high and dry. So I slowed my strokes and tried to work his butt nut. "Yes," he hissed, getting into the new rhythm. It wasn't a Kevin imitation, but a Kyle Stansell fuck.

My brother had actually gone to piss, like he always does after a good fuck. I guess I'd forgotten about him, because I was surprised to feel his hands on my mind and his kiss along my neck. "You're beautiful to watch Babe," he whispered. Instinctively I leaned back into that kiss and embrace, even as I had to slow my fuck down to a slow hump.

It took me a second to register how greasy Kevin's lubed cock was and how adeptly it was rooting in between my tight-end-worthy ass cheeks. "Whaddya say, bro?" he grunted, licking and nibbling at my ear lobe.

I wanted it. God, I wanted. "Yeah," I replied, and all of a sudden I was the center of attention. Dad's eyes on me, hungry but amused at watching me take my brother's cock. Kevin feeling me up to coax me to relax.

My man knew he had to take his time. And it had been a solid four months since he'd fucked me. I was tight as fuck.

But something about that situation was opening me up. Slowly, then more steadily I felt Kevin's thick tool plowing in. Challenging me to accept all of him.

"He's big isn't he, Pop?" Dad asked.

I looked down in my father's brown eyes. "Feels even bigger going in," I answered.

"It's gonna make you feel amazing, Pop," Dad said with sincerity. "Always does."

Kevin loved being talked up like that, and he now thrust more excitedly into me. It was intense but in a good way. Particularly once Dad's ass started clenching down on my own cock, buried deep inside him. My father was stroking his meat once more and sending shock waves to my bone in the process.

I wouldn't saw we had a practiced rhythm doing a fuck sandwich, but we alternated between Kevin driving things and me being the one to move my hips between these two men.

Dad came first. The excitement of watching his two sons fuck combined with the stimulation in his ass.

"Fuck son!" Kevin exclaimed, watching over my shoulder as heavy spurts of semen spurted from our father's reddened cock. "Give it up, stud."

Just hearing those role play words in my ear got me off. I grunted in orgasm, wordlessly but my body tensing and revealing that I'd crossed the line in a major way.

Kevin's hips were now bucking faster, almost frantic in the guy's realization he had a brief window to get off in me before I lost the sex-fueled openness in my ass.

He made it, barely. My brother-husband's strong hands gripped my waist as he powered his second cum of the night inside me. Making up for no-sex Game Day. I accepted his seed, proud that I'd done this, put out for my man.

My brother gave a soft kiss to the back of my neck and slowly pulled out.

This was always the hardest part of the role play. Not going back to our real-life family roles. But we'd learned to keep it going. Wordlessly, we showered off, first me and Dad in the shower, before I stepped out and let Kevin join him.

"You going to sleep with us tonight, Son?" I asked as I toweled off and watched them rinse under the spray.

Dad looked over at Kevin, maybe expectantly but mostly trying to read his reaction. Kev patted Dad's ass. "Up you, son, but your dads would love to have you join us."

It was wild to see the mature man, a pro-ball veteran and a coaching legend in his own right, act like a deferential college kid with us. He smiled and his dick chubbed out a little as he nodded.

I thought I was spent, but my own prick firmed up at the sight. All the way to full erection. Kevin laughed. He'd cum twice and his beautifully thick prick hung soft, water dripping off.

"Gotta warn ya, Son," my brother said. "Us coaches can be real horny bastards sometimes."

Dad chuckled and I watched as he slipped out of Kevin's embrace and dripping wet, stepped onto the bath mat before crouching in front of me in that classic blow job kneeling position.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Dad.... Pop..." Then looking up at me he took my son-prick into my mouth.

#drakestories

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aloneinthehellfire · 1 year

Text

Come Back Home

Season One | Season Two | Season Three | Season Four

Raining Hellfire: Season Four

Word Count: 3113 words

Warnings: swearing, bullying, mentions of death

[A/N: The introduction to RH4 is here! This season has been the hardest to write considering that this is where we find out all the truth behind Vecna. I'm excited to finally share this with you all :)]

Before we begin a new season, I just want to thank every single person who has supported my story. I'm not sure what will happen after RH4, if this will be the last season, but I've had a hell of a time writing this :)

Come Back Home

Dear Y/n,

High school hasn’t really been anything special. It’s kinda hard but at least the lessons are slightly more interesting.

The guys decided to join Hellfire Club. Eddie’s taking care of them. Just like you said he would.

Lucas tried out for the basketball team. I think he’s enjoying it, despite all the assholes he says are his friends. We’re not really seeing eye to eye lately. But it’s all fine. I promise.

Mike complains a lot about El and Will not being there. I think he forgets that we’re all missing them too. It kinda sucks that El and I got so close only for her to move away. But she calls me, telling me about her time in California. She tells me she’s enjoying it.

Steve and Robin seem to like working at the video store. I visit them sometimes, Steve always sneaks me any new releases. He thinks I’m lonely but I’m fine. He just overreacts. He also constantly asks about you, pretending like he doesn’t care. He misses you, even if he doesn’t admit it. We all do.

Mom and I moved into a trailer after Neil left. It’s nice, sometimes. Mom started drinking again but we get to spend time together and she’s trying her hardest. She couldn’t take Jack’s house. She misses her brother.

I miss you. A lot. I know we’ve done this before and at least this time I can talk with you but sometimes I wish you and I could just hang out together. The party are kind of acting like you’re on holiday. Like any day now you’ll burst through the door with souvenirs. But Nancy keeps telling them that’s not the case. They don’t listen. Of course they don’t.

I know why you left. You did it for us, even if the others can’t see that.

I’m doing okay. You’ve said in your letters that you worry about me but I’m completely fine. You should live a life away from Hawkins. You deserve that. You don’t need to come back.

I love and miss you,

Madmax.

You stuff the letter back into your drawer with a sigh. That was the last letter Max had sent you. It had been weeks now.

You couldn’t help but worry every single day you spent away from Hawkins. After hearing about Susan and Neil’s divorce, you felt guilty for ever leaving Max in the first place. Billy died and she needed you. But it was too dangerous.

The nightmarish figure hadn’t visited you in the eight months you’ve been away from Hawkins. It was a relief, really. You could finally sleep without fear of being pulled into the Upside Down.

But you still couldn’t close your eyes without seeing Jack and Billy die in front of you.

“Y/n?”

Your room-mate poked her head around the door, eyes wide.

“You okay?” You looked at Clara with a confused expression, setting down the pen you were using and slipping a half-written letter into a pile of work on your desk.

“She’s at it again.” She sighs and your lips purse.

Great, you thought, another fun day in Florida.

Clara patiently waits for you to sort out your things before you grab your keys and join her, walking quickly to the college courtyard where you could already see a crowd of students forming.

Yells and shouts could be heard as a trio of girls messed around with Emma Sanders. You suck in a breath. You wished you could say this wasn’t a daily occurrence.

Emma Sanders was a 16 year old girl who had managed to get into college early from her brains alone. She was a modest girl, very shy since everyone else around her was much older. You and her had shared a class together and it turns out Emma was much more sweet and funny than anyone seemed to notice. But, there was a rumour spreading that her parents were on the board and used their position to get her into college. She has claimed over and over that she just got an early scholarship but that’s the thing with the students at this college; they hate to see someone out-do them. They hate it even more when the girl they bully actually sticks up for themself and calls them out on their bullshit.

Which is why, almost every day since the beginning of the college year, poor Emma had to experience the very worst of what teenage girls are capable of.

“Move out of the way.” You sigh, shoving past a group of guys clearly enjoying the display. They protest but shift out of your way regardless, craning their necks for a better view of the fight.

It was a deja-vu moment for you; breaking up a fight. And over three years later, here you were. Being a ‘hero’, as someone would always say to you.

Clara shuffled up beside you as you pushed your way into the circle, coming face to face with the devils themselves.

“Okay, we get it. You’re upset you’re all dumb and had to pay to get in.” You retort, picking your friend from off the floor and she sends you a grateful smile.

You gently nudge her away from the crowd and Emma disappears, most likely to the library. Hopefully she’d be okay.

“Y/n Mayfield. Here to ruin the fun, like always.”

The shrill voice called from behind you and you clicked your tongue. She had the kind of voice that scratched your brain in the most excruciatingly painful way possible.

And it just so happens that you had years of experience blocking her out.

“Carol.” You purse your lips, turning to face the queen of high school herself, still taking advantage of those around her for her own personal enjoyment. “You realise this is college, right?”

She simply raises her eyebrows, edging you on.

“You’re not in high school anymore.” You sigh, shaking your head, “Maybe you should focus on actually passing the semester instead of proving that your daddy has more money than the rest of us.”

“Yeah, and can the rest of you stop acting like this is some crappy teen drama movie?” Clara yelled at the few students still standing around you, chanting as if something more than an exchange of words would happen. “Go to class or something! Get a damn education!”

A few sighs and groans sounded but soon everyone dispersed, leaving you and Clara with Carol and her new-found minions.

“Why, oh why, do you always have to annoy me?” Carol sighs, waving her hand in the air. The action caused the other two girls to stalk away. She really did have power over them.

“Look, Carol.” You take a step forward, shoulders slumped. You were really tired of this. “I had no idea we were going to end up at the same college. But here we are and honestly, I just want a normal college experience, okay? No fights, no stupid rumours. Is that so impossible to ask for?”

Carol shifted on her feet, chewing the gum in her mouth slowly as she pondered the thought.

“You know what?” Carol slowly nodded, smiling. “You’re right.”

You almost fall back in surprise. “I am?”

��She is?” Clara chimed in beside you, just as confused.

“Yeah.” Carol took a few steps towards you. “It really is impossible to ask for.”

“Oh for the love of-” You mutter and Carol glares at you.

“Why would I ever forgive and forget someone that slept with my boyfriend?”

Clara audibly gasps beside you. That was something you had left out of the room-mate introductions.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms, “For the last time, I didn’t know! I was drunk and I would never have done that if he just told me you were dating.”

“Really?” Carol raised an eyebrow. “Cause it seems to be a trend with you lately. Stealing other girls’ boyfriends.”

“I doubt Y/n would do that.” Clara shakes her head and you smile to yourself. Good to know someone had your back.

“I heard a rumour…” Carol stepped forward, her pink lips stretched into a wicked smile. “That you ended up sleeping with Steve Harrington.”

“Who?” Clara whispered to you and you just waved your hand.

“That didn’t happen.” You say. It was the truth, nothing more than an emotional shared kiss ever happened between you and Steve. Certainly not when he and Nancy were still dating.

“You should really rethink your friends.” Carol turns to the girl next to you, an innocent look on her face. “Y/n was notorious for being the whore of Hawkins.”

“Fuck you.” You finally spat and she smiled. She got exactly what she wanted; to get you angry.

“Hm, let’s see.” Carol held up her hand and started putting down fingers as she counted. “Tommy, Eddie, Steve. Oh, and let’s not forget Billy.”

You stayed silent, breath hitching at the sound of his name.

“All in the space of, what, three years?” She smirked at you. “And yet, little old Y/n Mayfield couldn’t manage to keep any of them. In fact, she ended up running away just when she realised that they could never love a girl…”

Carol’s eyes turned dark as she leant forward to whisper into your ear. “… who murdered her best friend.”

Your eyes widen with tears, breath caught in your throat. How did she know that?

“Don’t underestimate your enemies, Y/n.” She said, glaring at you, “Especially ones with friends in high places.”

She leant in again with a smile, chuckling lowly, “Or ones who end up snooping through the school shrink’s files. You should really be careful what you tell people.”

“What do you want from me?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“I want you to realise that you deserve everything that’s coming to you. I want you out of Florida. This is my college, not yours.”

“I can’t.” You say, shaking your head slightly.

“You’re gonna have to.” She pouts, fixing the collar of your shirt. “Or I’m gonna tell everyone at this college exactly who you are.”

She let’s out a shrill laugh, tossing her hair behind her shoulder.

“Anyway, it was nice catching up. Let’s not do this again, ‘kay?” She looks to your friend with a grin, “Bye, Claire.”

“It’s Clara.” She mumbled, glaring.

“Whatever.”

And just like that, the infamous Carol Perkins reclaimed her power and left you stood in the middle of the courtyard, heartbeat running fast enough to blur your vision.

“Y/n?” Clara placed her hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“… yeah.” You nod, shaking away the burning nerves. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Don’t let her get into your head, Y/n.” She frowned. You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

“It’s not that easy.”

Clara invited you out with her friends for lunch, claiming you needed to have some fun and actually explore outside of your room. You respectfully declined her offer, telling her to have fun without you. You weren’t in the party mood.

You pulled out the paper you had hidden away earlier, grabbing your pen and wiping away a stray tear. All you had done to forget your past, it always found its way to haunt you.

The paper was crumpled at the edges and you tried your absolute best to smooth them out, wanting it to be perfect. You took a breath, reading the very first line over and over until your brain hurt.

Dear Eddie,

For months now you had tried to muster up some kind of courage to write to him. Ever since the day you left, the metalhead never left your brain. But, at the exact same time, neither did Steve. Never in your life did you think you’d be stuck in some kind of love triangle that only you were aware of.

It’s always been hard for you to express your feelings. Growing up in a house with parents that thought being tough built character would do that to you.

Billy had come first but the feelings between you two had gotten muddled up along the way; you weren’t ever in love. He was your best friend, your closest friend and you were both too young to understand that love didn’t have to be romantic. Which made sense. You didn’t think you were capable of it.

Then Eddie Munson changed all that for you. He was sweet, and kind, and everything you could have hoped for. You finally got to feel what real love felt like. All the best and worst moments of it. Every time you were with him, you felt some kind of electricity you couldn’t explain. And those feelings never left you, not really. You just couldn’t admit it to him in the end.

The kiss you and Steve had shared the night of the ‘mall fire’ was far from meaning nothing to you. In fact, you had both confessed you liked eachother. You had confessed you loved eachother. Love was a word that barely left your lips. Steve made you feel safe, feel heard. Like he knew every part of you. But you were both still in love with the ones that got away.

You groan into your hands, throwing the pen back down. Writing this letter was impossible.

Maybe it was for the best that you’d never see them again.

And with Carol’s sudden blackmail, you were way too busy figuring out if you could transfer colleges. Maybe you could head to San Diego instead. Or Arizona. Or just flee to Europe.

Hopefully Max will get your letters when you move.

As you reach to switch off the table lamp, the phone at the edge of the desk suddenly starting ringing. You jumped in surprise, chair wobbling on two legs for a moment before you composed yourself. You frowned. Nancy only just called you yesterday evening.

You pick up the phone, holding it to your ear cautiously.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” Robin’s voice called out and you breathed a sigh of relief. You and Robin had an occasional phone call now and then, just to catch up about once a month. But you had just spoken to her last week.

“Robin? Why are you-” Your question is cut short when you hear her shooing someone away, most likely a customer, plus some clatter as you assume she moves the phone to a more secluded spot.

“Have you seen the news?” Her voice was urgent and you frowned.

“The Hawkins news?” You let out a breathy laugh, confusion mixed with fear at her voice, “Uh, no, Robs. I haven’t.”

She’s silent for a moment until you hear her let out a sigh.

“Robin, what’s going on?” You started to panic, straightening in your seat.

“It’s…” She lowered her voice to a whisper and you wondered if Steve knew she was calling you. “It’s Eddie.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. “What-what about him?”

“Okay this really isn’t easy to say but I figured you should know that some freaky-deaky shit is going on. Like not exactly a monster made out of flesh and evil Russians but like-” Robin rambled and you shook your head.

“Robin! Rob- Just tell me!” You were out of your seat now, staring at the paper on the table in front of you.

“Someone was found dead in his trailer and the police think he did it.”

You gulped, chest a little lighter to know he was still alive. “What-”

“Chrissy.” Robin said quietly, “Her name. She… Max saw her go into his trailer and apparently the lights were all whack-a-doodle, but she didn’t think anything of it at the time since the trailers are always experiencing some kind of light failure.”

“Robin.” You say as softly as you can, reminding her to stay on topic.

“Right, yeah. Anyway, the police found her body in his trailer this morning. It was all snapped up and broken and-” She takes a deep breath as you hold your own. “There’s no way any kind of human could have done it.”

“But the police think Eddie did?” It wasn’t really a question. After all, the only policeman in Hawkins who had ever thought clearly was Hopper.

“He apparently ran away after it happened and we managed to find where he might be hiding-”

“We?” You ask.

“Me, Steve, Dustin. Max.” She adds with a knowing tone.

You take a moment to think through Robin’s information. She wouldn’t have called if she wasn’t scared. From her description, something very sinister was happening in Hawkins.

Again.

“Look, Y/n.” Robin sighs and you hear muffled voices, one clearly belonging to Dustin. “We’re gonna go find him and try to make this all right. The others… they didn’t want to drag you into this and neither do I but, I- I don’t know, I guess I just felt guilty if I didn’t let you know what was happening.”

“No, no. It’s okay, Robs. Thank you for telling me.” You assure, slumping back into your chair. “Just… if it gets worse…”

“We’ll be careful.” She tells you before you clearly hear Steve yell for her. Your heart tightens at the sound of his voice. You hadn’t spoken to him in eight months. “Okay, I gotta go. We have this handled and I’ll call you later. Bye.”

“Rob-” You try but she’s already hanging up the phone.

You go to set the phone back down, when suddenly something sounds from the receiver.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Then, a sudden flash of images burns your mind, eyes fluttering shut, as you envision a dark room.

Random objects littered about, like an attic of treasures. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. In the middle stood a grandfather clock, chiming methodically. You start to get a closer view, something about the glass seeming off.

Then, suddenly, it cracks, a single scar running across the face and everything plunges into a dark blue hue, specs of white dust fluttering around it. And vines...

You snap out of your vision just as Clara opens the door, a laugh leaving her lips.

“Bye, guys!” She calls to her friends before locking the door. She turns around to see you stood, staring at the phone while biting your lip.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” She closes the space and you slowly shake your head.

Every thought in your mind was telling you that they were fine. That it was all a misunderstanding. You weren’t in Hawkins, there was no reason for them to be unsafe.

But the shiver in your bones told you otherwise.

You finally meet Clara’s eyes, eyebrows furrowed. You take a breath.

“I’m going back to Hawkins.”

Chapter 1: Hunting Season ->

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