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#Where does the red come from? You don't want to know.
melbatron5000 · 2 days
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The Big Damn Kiss
Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.
This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.
I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.
DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!
Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?
Ahem.
Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.
I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)
Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:
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And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:
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And the next:
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And our last Clue:
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With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.
Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:
One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.
Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?
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So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.
Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.
Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!
Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.
I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.
I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:
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(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)
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My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.
Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.
(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)
What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?
A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?
Oh yes.
Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.
Here's Aziraphale reading the records:
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Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:
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And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:
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That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.
That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.
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2kmps · 2 days
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DARK POOL
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aquatic monster x reader | 18+ | 2.8k
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story summary; your granduncle explains that the noises at the bottom of the lighthouse and the missing chunk out of his leg are from swimming rats. you let him think you're a fool.
story warnings; some graphic depictions that some may consider gory, mentions of biting, mentions of rats, creature in captivity, explicit sexual content, double penetration (not safe), prose + detail heavy, implied breeding, not proofread.
if you enjoyed it, please reblog + interact!!
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Granduncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.
He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.
It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.
“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”
You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.
“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”
Granduncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”
Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, granduncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.
Granduncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”
When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.
For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.
There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.
You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brought a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.
So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.
He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.
“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”
Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.
“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”
“No.”
He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.
You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.
He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.
“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”
With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.
There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.
He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.
The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.
It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.
So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.
His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.
“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.
Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.
“Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”
The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.
“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.
You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.
“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”
He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.
It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.
His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.
You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”
There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.
Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.
He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.
“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.
He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.
“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”
"Just—just don't hurt me.”
His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.
Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.
Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.
You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.
After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.
“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”
You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.
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a/n: not my best work, but hopefully passable. it's really helpful when y'all reblog, so please do so!!!
I don't really have any comments on this because I'm starting over from zero on the long-fic of the aquatic monster story bc I hated what I had lmao.
anyway, please keep in mind that is a concept piece. chances are that none of this will be present in the actual long-fic. this just helps me to explore ideas and familiarize myself with characters.
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adollrable · 23 hours
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Under the same moon.
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✧ summary: where it's your birthday and your boyfriend is on a mission far from home.
✧ cw: female reader x leon kennedy (re4r), fluff, just him being a cutie pie and the boyfiest boyfie ever (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿
✧ wc: 1387
a/n: I'M SCARED, this is my first time writing something COMPLETELY in english so... if something looks kinda silly forgive me 😞 english is not my first language but feel free to give me feedback!
my birthday was two days ago and i kinda want it to write something so, if someone is reading this on their birthday, happy birthday!!! 🤲🏻
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11:45 PM. You were pacing around your apartment. Brushing your teeth, doing your skin care routine, pulling out the softest cotton sheets you have at your disposal.
You looked at the calendar that sat on the nightstand next to your bed, your eyes drifting towards the next day's date. Your birthday.
You weren't that excited, the printed number that indicated your day of birth wasn't marked with a red marker that circled it. The date Leon would return was.
Originally, your boyfriend's absence wouldn't interfere with your birthday. He would be with you on your special day. But you thought back to the call you had with him a few days ago, with him trying to get a signal to tell you that he couldn't make it on time and that he was really sorry.
You understand. It doesn't bother you, but you wish he was by your side now.
His job was complicated, and he explained that he couldn't tell you much from it. As far as you know, he's in Spain, rescuing someone. You don't know who, but it must be someone important.
11:55 PM. Five minutes to midnight. Five minutes until another return to the sun happens for you.
You laid down on your bed, covered by the sheets that hugged your body. You took the pillow that Leon usually uses and wrapped both arms around it, seeking comfort to avoid missing him so much.
Tomorrow would be just another day. Sure, your friends will congratulate you, you will receive calls from your family at extremely early hours of the morning, and you will repeat "thank you, I appreciate it" like a broken recorder for each call and message.
Gifts don't matter, much less a cake, or a party. The only thing you want is for the love of your life to return soon and you can be together.
Rolling between thoughts, you were able to fall asleep.
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12:00 PM. Finally your birthday.
Your cellphone vibrated with every message that one of your friends or your family sent you congratulations. The light from the device breaks into your not-so-deep sleep, since not even ten minutes had passed since you closed your eyes.
Sheet off you, you stopped hugging the pillow and with a soft grunt reached for your phone, checking notifications with squinted eyes.
You lowered the brightness of your cell phone because of that annoying burning in your eyes and now with more comfort, you wandered around the notifications you had, until one caught your attention completely.
Leon ♡: "Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much."
A smile began to form on your face, and without hesitation you unlocked your cell phone to answer him.
Thanks, Lee :( I miss you and I love you
You weren't expecting a response, after all, he must be busy, right? In Spain it must have been your birthday hours ago, but he still bothered to wait for it to come where you are.
Leon ♡: I miss you too, how have you been?
You didn't think he would have time to respond, but you also didn't want to spend three days without hearing from him, so you took advantage of the opportunity.
I've been fine... I haven't done much, just work and back home :( how about you?
Leon ♡: Tired, but all good. Missing you most of all the time. Tell me, have you done anything interesting?
Does missing you count? :[
Leon ♡: Yeah, it counts, sweet thing. I want to tell you something, okay? But let me call you first.
The fact that he was going to call you made you feel good, he may not be with you on your birthday and he is supposed to arrive days later, but one call is enough to lift your spirits.
You were going to answer but your screen lit up with your boyfriend's contact name and the buttons to answer or hang up the call. You pressed the green button and put it on speaker, placing your phone on your chest with a smile. "Hi..."
"Hello, birthday girl." His voice... You could spend hours listening to him speak, even if he was talking about the most boring topic in the world, you would pay attention from start to finish. "How's my baby doing?"
You giggled, there really wasn't much to say, your birthday had started less than an hour ago, "No crazy, exciting party... My friends have congratulated me, as has my family. My parents must be asleep at this time, so I guess when they wake up they'll call me."
"Yeah, they must be resting at this time, huh. You should, too. It's only because of your birthday that you stay up so late." He answered and you could hear his smirk over the phone, making you blush slightly.
"Of course not... I can sleep late whenever I want." And even if you wanted to, you know it's not possible. Once you get home from work and settle into your boyfriend's arms to sleep, you fall deeply into the arms of Morpheus. It's hard not to sleep well when you have a giant boyfriend pillow. "I can't sleep without you here."
"I know, baby, I know... I can't sleep without my sweet girl hugging me like a damn teddy bear." He chuckled and you did it too. Both of you fell into a small silence, it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. "Hey, baby?" He began, as you settled into the sheets.
"Mhm?" You asked, as you looked at the moon through your bedroom window. Her brilliance seeped in and was strong and radiant.
Watching the moon always gave you a certain comfort, knowing that no matter where Leon is, both of you will always be under the same moon and firmament of stars.
A laugh came through the speaker of your cell phone, the same laugh that makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. "Did you see how beautiful the moon is?"
You smiled, humming a small "mhm" in response, before adding, "Yeah... It's full and very pretty. I wish you were here to watch it together."
Leon let out a small sigh, "Yeah, me too, what if you ask the moon for that?" You chuckled this time. It was a silly thing to do, but, why not?
"Like a birthday wish? But if you know it then it won't come true." Leon could hear the pout in your voice, and he smiled to himself. "Maybe there will be an exception this time." He murmured. "Come on, babe. Do it."
With your eyes closed, you let out a sigh, wishing with all your being that Leon could be by your side as soon as possible, and after a few seconds, you heard him speak, "Did you do it?"
"Yeah, I did... Time to wait I guess." Your gaze met that radiant crater that was seen in its maximum splendor, until something began to click in your head.
"Did you see how beautiful the moon is?" There is supposed to be approximately six hours between your location and Spain, so it was impossible for Leon to see the moon shining in its entirety, but you tried not to give too much thought to the matter, since the moon can also be seen during the day, although at lower exposure.
But if he talked about the moon... And how big it looked... That could mean that maybe he...
"The stars look very bright too." He added after.
"But, you know what I think is more bright?" He began, while his footsteps were heard on the cement, signaling that he had begun to walk.
Until he stopped.
"The brightest thing I'm going to see is your face when you look out the window."
That made you get up from your bed, phone in hand while with clumsy steps thanks to the sheets rolled up between your legs, you reached the window and realized everything.
He is here.
And when he saw that look light up on your face, he knew that the moon was nothing compared to how radiant you looked. "Hey, birthday girl."
It seems like the moon was the perfect alibi for Leon to sneak in and surprise you.
Or simply the moon heard your wishes, and fulfilled them on your special day.
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a/n: OKAY... I'M STILL NERVOUS I PUT THIS ON THREE DIFFERENT GRAMMAR CHECKERS BUT I'M STILL AFRAID i suck at writing tbh but this idea was scratching my brain and i thought Hmm why not SO!!! i hope y'all like it :] i appreciate likes and reblogs annnnnd comments i love comments!!! feel free to give me tips to be better at writing or something THAT'S ALL BYE-BYE 🤲🏻
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fishnapple · 1 day
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CRYSTAL READING: What should you cultivate more in yourself ?
A little explanation of the method I used for reading
Lithomancy : I assigned a meaning for each stone (each stone represents a planet) and cast them on a circle divided into 12 parts, just like an astrology chart and do the reading
Pick a stone :
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Reading for each group below :
1. Red jasper
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I see a pyramid with strong foundation.
You would need to build a shelter in yourself to stay calm amidst a hectic life.
Life may give you lots of hardship, but if you know how to stay rooted in yourself, you can weather any storms coming your way.
To do that, you need to find your authentic ideals, your own aspirations in life, without outside's interference. Like a personal compass. No matter what you do, where you go, that compass can guide you to the right direction.
But to be able to make that compass, you would need to open up to your own self.
I see that some parts of your are hidden in your own eyes. You need to see all of yourself, both light and dark, both strength and weakness, both selfish desires and selfless devotion. A dichotomy within yourself. It is the opposition that keeps you balanced.
2.Citrine
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A leaf or a boat, tenderly floating in the stream. If you could let your heart lead your life and follow the natural flow, you will see that life would be so much easier.
You will be able to see that life works in a very cyclical way. Allow yourself to unfold naturally with time. There is no need to rush.
Strangely enough, by doing that, you would appear to the world as a person holding so much inner power.
I could see that with time, you will become so much more at ease with yourself, and that will create a natural confidence.
Going with the flow of life does not mean doing nothing. It means seeing your dream and having the bravery to take concrete but harmonious steps to come closer to that dream. You would need to cultivate a lion's heart, bravely facing your hidden fears, guilts, and confusions hiding in the dark.
3.Pyrite
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There is a focus on relationships.
You have an idealistic approach to romance with lots of fantasies and confusion.
That tends to attract the type of people who are aggressive, domineering, and have a big ego. This kind of relationship would bring lots of stress and disappointment to you.
I notice that my tone for this group is more curt and to the point. Maybe that's how some people feel when they are in your energy. Your energy would bring out some shadows in people.
Sometimes, people would actually have some dark impulses toward goodness. Light would bring out shadow. I'm saying this because I see that opposite of the heavy energy people that you attract, you have a gentle and light energy.
What you should cultivate is a sense of boundary and authority for yourself.
Keep the light, but be more detached and see clearly of what you want, how you want to be treated, and how you can feel nourished in a relationship. Maybe not too focused on 1 on 1 relationship, but be more open to being a part of a community. I see that you are meant to be a soul of freedom, not chained by other's egos.
4.Rose quartz
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The energy of a mentor, a teacher.
There is something so strong yet very warm and loving about your energy.
You don't need to be actually in the teaching profession to teach. The way you express yourself, the way you live your life, the way you honour your emotions, and let your inner child shine can inspire many people. People want to learn from you.
I think that you don't need to cultivate something particular, but more like noticing things about yourself to be more aware and navigate them more easily. The strongest thing is the voice. The voice of authority. Be the voice of truth that speaks deep into people's hearts. Even sometimes, that would make people uncomfortable.
I see a playful child with a sharp tongue that speaks some acute observations about the world, but nobody feels offended. That is the special power of children. You could still retain some of that power within you.
5.Obsidian
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I immediately see the number four and the Jupiter's glyph (♃, when I actually searched the glyph again, it was a little different from the crystal's image, but I couldn't shake the association) Another thing about Jupiter is that the stone for Jupiter landed on the highest position of the chart, stands between two black obsidian stones (one was the one I chose to represent place of focus, one was this group that you chose). So the theme of Jupiter would be where you should put more focus on cultivating. Travelling, religion, and foreign cultures will bring in lots of transformation for you.
Also, if you are more open about your wish and desires, you would manifest them much easier, broadcast to the universe, and let the universe listen to you. If you feel restricted and not comfortable showing your individuality, this is the message for you to show your light to the world more. Many would appreciate that.
6.Flourite
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There is a sense of urgency in this group. The universe is sending you a very urgent message.
It is time to build your lasting legacy. There is something you're meant to create for the mass. It could be something to do with words, something verbal, creative writing, or things created by hands. Things that stir the imagination and deep emotions of the audience. Making this work will bring you sudden fortunes and blessings.
Tap into your dreams. You could get lots of inspiration or source materials from the dreams you have while sleeping or even daydreams. Don't ignore the images. When you put your attention to them, the messages will be clearer to you. Translate them into your works with dedication and steadiness and bring them to life.
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pumpkinbxtch · 2 days
Note
Hii, can you do a Leo Valdez x Reader one-shot about the reader getting deaf or half-deaf? Like when he discovers, or even hcs😭. I'm asking this because I got half-deaf last year and there's ZERO content about that with pjo characters. It's okay if you don't want to do it or feel uncomfortable❤️❤️❤️
ᝰ.ᐟ leo valdez x half-deaf!reader headcanons
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☆ radiostar is playin': on melancholy hill by gorillaz
warnings: none!
a/n: hi! i read your two posts and saw that you finally leaned towards headcanons. don't worry, it's okay, baby. Anyway! i have some experience in this because i had a classmate who was also half-deaf so here we go. If i make any mistakes, please let me know, okay? thank you for putting your trust in me. i hope you are very well.
— kisses from the hypothetical planet vulcan. 🧡
∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°
he was like boom in love and love pushes you to do things you never thought of doing, right?
At first, he's scared of messing things up with you, as if him being clumsy in love wasn't enough. He didn't want to offend you in any way, so he practically searched every corner of the library. You got him to read! And this fool never reads because it's hard for him, but there he was, researching about the topic.
He's definitely the type who always tries to help because he knows it can be tough sometimes, so when you have to go out in public, he makes sure to hold your hand tightly and NEVER let go.
He always positions himself on the good ear side so you can hear him better, and he gets even closer to you if there's too much noise around.
When he arrives somewhere and you don't see him immediately, he tries to make it noticeable that someone else has arrived, so he doesn't startle you.
But this guy is sometimes a teaser, and when you both reach that level of trust, he'll say things from afar knowing you won't hear well, but only because what he's saying is embarrassing
"I love you, I'm going to marry you, and I'm warning you from now on," he says from the entrance, and you deal with just seeing his lips move and hearing halfway.
You squint and shout, "What?!" and he laughs, so you show him the middle finger. "Idiot, you know I can't hear you."
Leo rushes towards you, and after giving you a kiss on the cheek, he whispers gently in your ear: "i'm sayin that one day your last name will be Valdez," and well, you end up as red as the forges he works in.
If you're the one who enters while he's working in the bunker or wherever he is, he immediately puts down the tools and gives you his full attention. This is also because he wants to make sure there are no loud noises when you're around. Sometimes you tell him it's not necessary for him to stop, but he does it anyway.
Although, if you insist, he'll look for the ear protectors he bought/made for you and ask you to wear them because he wants to keep you safe. Both of you might be wearing them, and even though he's working with dangerous, heavy materials, he can't help but steal glances with that loving gaze of his. Because oh gods, he fell so hard for you.
Even when both are alone, to talk to you, he gets close to the point where your foreheads are touching and gazes fixed on each other. You tell him he can back off a bit, and he shakes his head while giving you a kiss on the nose. "I know, but I still want to be close to you."
When there's not much noise on the street that could be dangerous, he chooses to walk with you arm in arm, continuing to tell you things and talk nonsense that makes you laugh.
Leo doesn't like going to hospitals much, but if he has to accompany you to your regular check-ups, he will, or he'll tell you that Will Solace is a very good doctor.
He whispers sweet nothings in your ear every night, to let you know he loves you.
Here comes a huge confession from Leo Valdez, he's definitely working on a device that could help you. With the help of the Apollo cabin, he thinks he could pull it off, and he's just refining it every day to improve your life because he simply wants the best for you. Even if he ultimately has to scrap it, he'll look for other types of gadgets he can create to help you.
Although he knows you can manage, Leo feels good and proud to be able to help the person he loves. You're the one who made him explore that part of himself where he looks out for your emotional and physical well-being.
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grandlinedreams · 13 hours
Text
|| this man is an exposed live wire in my brain ok
|| notes: uhh prequel to [this] and [this], semi Canon compliant, pre-s1 but mentions of pre-war Cooper, I love the dynamic 😔👌✨️
|| warnings: hopefully IC Cooper, asshole x asshole dynamic we love to see it, weapons/supply dealer!reader, Canon typical violence, mention of blood/reader is injured kinda, spoilers? Abt Cooper's backstory, kinda enemies to friends/lovers
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He doesn't know why he's here.
No, that's a lie ㅡ he does know why he's here, he just doesn't want to admit it. To himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. That he needs help.
Those fancy little bullets for his gun are hard to come by, few and far between when he can't get them by looting and places like Ma June's enjoy extorting as much as they can for so very little.
There's a difference between business transactions and highway robbery, even now. Which is why he's here ㅡ he'd gotten talk about a place that sold weapons and weapon-related supplies at a fair rate, and necessity had made him swallow his pride to go and find out for himself.
Which is why he's not just turning around and fuckin' leaving.
The building is crammed between two others, as ramshackle as the rest being made of recycled tin and wood that's rotted by time and rain in places, but still suggests a stability that won't crumble if somebody breathes too hard on it.
Cooper's spurs jingle as he walks, lost momentarily to the chime of something over his head when he pushes the door open. He looks up, forehead creasing.
Is that a bell?
Rusted but still in working order, it clatters again when he shuts the door, looking around. It's about as put together as any other kind of shop, an eclectic organization to it ㅡ a couple of rifles, a pistol or two, along with an admittedly impressive assortment of knives ㅡ but it's the shine of something on the floor that makes Cooper stop.
His head cocks as he studies the stain, the still-slick shimmer to it that makes him crouch and drag two gloved fingers against it, studying the residue. Coppery, with a hefty dose of some kind of chem to clean it, but still unmistakable ㅡ blood.
Well damn. He doesn't know what's happened here and he's pretty sure he doesn't care to, much beyond the fact that if the runner of this place is dead, that puts a damper on things. Or maybe not ㅡ if nobody's here, what's to stop him from taking what he wants?
"If you're thinkin' of stealing," comes a call that snaps his head up as it echoes from further back in the building, "I'd advise you not to. Less you wanna meet your maker, then I'd be happy to assist."
It's a flat bravado that both amuses him and piques his interest, and he leans against the counter to rap his knuckles. "Not stealin'," he drawls, "just wonderin' what kind of business model you've got if you make customers wait."
"The kind where patience is still a virtue, that's what." Foosteps, unhurried ㅡ and then Cooper is staring at you as you round the corner. You've got a jumpsuit of some indistinguishable color opened to rest around your hips, dingy tank-top underneath ㅡ and a stimpak in your hand. No doubt for the mess of your other arm, bicep wrapped with gauze that's already seeped into a bloom of bright red.
Well now. Cooper wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but you still manage to surprise him. Enough that he's staring, which makes you scowl.
"I know that look," you challenge, "if you think I'm easy picking, you'll get a new place to breathe from, courtesy of the hole I'll put in your head."
Cooper's head cocks. "Well now sugar," he says, "that's not very nice now, is it? Wasn't even thinkin' of that." He turns, jerks a thumb at the half-assed cleaning of the mess on the floor. "That's your doin', I reckon."
You nod. "Don't get trouble much," you say, "but when I do, I make sure to prove a point." You jam the stimpak into your arm, and he watches the tension melt from your shoulders. "Now, what can I do for you besides point out the exit?"
Well damn, Cooper thinks again. You've got a pretty face, but it's at odds with the attitude coming from that nice little mouth of yours. About as welcoming as a rattlesnake and probably just as quick to anger, from the way you bristle as he eyes you.
"Need supplies," he says, and you snort.
"What a wellspring of information you are. What kind of supplies?" You eye him, brow furrowing. "You're a bounty hunter, aren't you? Get your kind in here all the time." You tap a worn boot against the floor, hands now on your hips. "Hope you got means to pay for shit, because I don't do tab and I sure as fuck don't do charity work."
Cooper isn't sure if he likes you or he hates you. Bit of both, he guesses. The like is tentative and the hate is more solid ground, because he hates just about everybody. Makes it easier to do what needs to be done.
"Well, sweetheart," he leans into the counter, tips his hat, "depends on what you got to show me that's worth buyin'."
You stare, unimpressed by whatever angle he's going for. He's handsome, you'll give him that ㅡ but not much else. He also reminds you of somebody, with that hat of his and the way he talks ㅡ the low, drawn out drawl that you've only seen in those movies you manage to scrounge up here and there for your amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hold up a finger and shrug your arms back into the jumpsuit, though you don't bother to zip it up. "Gimme a sec."
You don't know why you're doing this. Entertaining the notion that if you show him good enough product, he'll become a regular. You like regulars, but most of what you get seem to run on about six months worth of visits and then vanish.
Probably dead. Such is the way of the world, and it's still enough to get by. But you like new faces.
To his credit, he doesn't flinch when you slap the first pack onto the counter, followed by a second, and then a third.
"This is baseline stuff," you explain. "Your usual grade of bullet. Black powder, the standard kick." You shove the first pack at him, let him inspect the bullets. "Then you've got these."
The second pack shoved over, thin fabric parted so he can eye the neat little row of what would be hollow-point bullets if they didn't end with a tiny, pointed bulb of red glass.
"Explosive rounds." Your expression is unreadable. "They do the job, but they need special packing. Unless you wanna be blown up before the damn things even get loaded into the gun."
Cooper hums, eyes the bullet he holds up, the barely there shift of powder in the glass. He watches as you push the third over. "And these?"
"Same, but they pack even more of a punch. I'd recommend only shooting them at shit you want up in smoke." You shrug. "Or people, deathclaws, whatever the fuck you do out there."
Cooper studies you. "Where did you get this stuff? Thought bullets were hard to come by."
You give him a flat look of annoyance. "I make 'em myself."
Cooper stares, then smirks. Another little tip to his head. "Really now," he says, watches you bristle like a viper, ready to strike. Wonders if those fangs of yours pack a punch, what he'd need to do to get you to spit at him. "How 'bout you show me, darlin'? Wanna make sure what I buy is good quality."
You should tell him to shove it. Tell him to get the absolute fuck out of your shop, take his fuckin' yeehaw personality to someone else in the mood to deal with it ㅡ but you don't.
Instead, you sigh and tug the packages back, moving away from the counter. "Well c'mon then," you prompt, irritated. "Don't have all goddamn day."
The back of your shop is half a home and half a workshop, sprawled mess of equipment rusted with time but otherwise well maintained, smell of grease and hot metal and gunpowder that clings to everything.
You don't have to look back to know he's followed you, the jingle of his spurs as he takes his time, eyes missing nothing. The boxes of empty casings and empty glass bulbs ㅡ and the Mister Handy that's slumped in the corner, sparks spitting from it.
"Poor thing got shot first with that...situation earlier." Your voice is quiet. "Gotta fix 'im if I can."
Kind of funny, you sound sadder about the damn machine than the fact you'd killed someone over it. Then again, they'd been trying to kill you, so...eh. Justified, in your book.
The rest of the room is a haphazard attempt at something like a house ㅡ a couch with blankets on it, a short stack of books gone yellow at the edges, a coffee table ㅡ and sitting on it is a shitty little television, staticy and without color ㅡ but that doesn't matter. What matters to Cooper is that he knows what it's playing.
Your flitting around fades a little as he watches himself on screen ㅡ forever ago, a lifetime ago. Before the bombs, before vault-tec ㅡ when he'd been happy.
He'd loved his life, his family ㅡ and they'd loved him too.
"I've got enough stuff to make another round of flash-baㅡ" You stop, blinking at the way he's staring at the television. "Somethin' wrong? I know this isn't much, but it's my way of living, soㅡ"
"Stop your yappin'," Cooper rasps, and you glare as he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he was lost in. You scowl.
"Look, I know this doesn't seem like much of anything, but this is my business, and my shop." Your eyes narrow. "So try to be a little fuckin' nicer if you want me to sell you anything."
Whatever patience he'd had left promptly snaps like a bowstring as he snatches your arm, grips it tighter than he should. "Listen, sweetheart," he hisses, "what exactly is stopping me from just takin' what I want and leaving?"
Something whirrs behind him, distracts him just enough for the cool, sharp kiss of metal at his throat.
"Do it," you taunt, expression unreadable, grip tight on the blade you hold to his neck. "You're not the first one to try, and you won't be the last."
And there, Cooper notes, are your fangs, ready to sink into his skin. The two of you stare at each other for a good, long minute while the Mister Handy spits and sputters. And then Cooper huffs something like a laugh. "Glad to see you've got some bite to you, darlin', but I still think I could handle you."
A threat and something a little less hostile all in one, even as you yank your arm out of his grasp. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with a fuckin' manual," you snap back, but there's a playful gleam to your eyes. "You gonna buy anything or just lookin' to be a pain in my ass?"
A crooked grin tugs at Cooper's mouth. "Both."
The truce between the two of you is tentative. An understanding in the barest sense, because neither of you are dumb enough to pass up a lucrative, beneficial deal. He gets his supplies, you get caps. Simple.
You won't go as far as to say you're even friends, up until the point that you greet him on a visit with, "You know, you remind me of somebody."
He eyes you. "Really now. And who would that be, sweetheart? You workin' with more ghouls than just me?"
You snort. "Careful," you tease, "you almost sound jealous." Your tone quiets as you drum your fingers on the counter. "Nah, you remind me of that one actor, Cooper Howard."
Cooper stills. Watches you warily, turning a spent bullet casing over and over between gloved fingers.
"He played a cowboy," you say, nodding to yourself. "Talked like you do, too. Good movies, at least the ones I've gotten my hands on." You eye him, playful light to your eyes. "Wouldn't happen to be a fan of him too, would you?"
Cooper debates. He's not sure if you've put the pieces together and if you have, you're polite enough not to say it. He appreciates that, makes that fleeting temptation of putting a bullet in your head all the more temporary. He likes you. Be a shame if he had to cut ties.
"No," he answers. "I can safely say he and I are nothin' alike." Not anymore. He lets himself lean over the counter, too close to your face. Intimidation, maybe, or perhaps just because he likes being able to look at you like this. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"
Your eyes flick over his face, down to his lips as you lean a little closer, the suggestion of your mouth just shy of his. "Yeah," you murmur, quiet. "Next time you come by, work on your fuckin' manners."
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maiko-san · 15 hours
Text
The Chain + TP! Reader
Linked Universe belongs to Jojo
Plot : You are Twilight's childhood best friend, who like Twilight can turn into an animal, that is a crow. You just happen to follow Twilight into the portal in your crow form and meet the Chain.
( Fem Reader )
You and Link have been friends ever since you were kids, always went on adventures together. After the event of Twilight, Link had gone out on a quest to find Twilight Realm, to find Midna and usually he brings you along with him but this time he didn't.
You asked him why, 'It's too dangerous, (N/n). I don't want you to get hurt....' he said. You know he cares about you...but you know how to protect yourself. He has been acting differently, as if he's hiding something from you.
.
.
"I'll be going now, (N/n)" Link said, holding your hands. "Be careful, Link" you give him a smile as Link returns the smile of his own before pulling you into a hug. He takes a deep breath, burying his face into your soft hair and taking in your scent before pulling away. "Wait, before you go!" you said, grabbing his face and kiss his cheek.
This causes Link to turn red from embarrassment, "What's a hero without his good luck kiss?" you smile. Link coughs lightly as he plants a kiss on your forehead, "Love you" he whispered in your ears. NEIGH! Both of you hear a whining and turns to see Epona sticking her head through the window, "You want one too, girl?" you questioned. The chestnut horse nods as you give a kiss on her forehead. "There you go, my lovely" you said, rubbing your cheek against her.
Link smiles at the interaction as he opens the house, "Next time, I'll be staying home for a few days" he said, caressing your cheek before mounting Epona's back.
"Bye!" you said, waving at them as you watch Link rides away. As he disappears around the corner, you quickly go to your room and take out your drawstring bag.
"I'm going to follow him, whether he likes it— or not!" you said. You open the door and close it behind you, making sure to lock it. You make a sprint and jump, your body shifts and turns into a crow. Your bag shrinks along to make it easier for you to carry it on your back. It was a gift from Midna which she enchanted so it can shrink whenever you turn into a crow.
You fly high up in the sky to locate Link, it takes you a while to spot him and you finally see him along with....
A group of men.
You land on the tree branches and hide away from view, you observe the situation and you were shocked. 'Why...why do they look almost like him?!' you thought. All of them almost look alike, blue eyes, blonde hair well it's in different tones but the face!
Are they his brothers? Distant relatives. No wait— both of you grow up together and there's no way he has relatives. If he does, he would tell you!
'Doppelgangers?!' you gasped in your mind. Oh wait— he had told you about meeting people during his adventures. Are they the ones he was talking about?
You couldn't hear what they're saying but they're heading in the same direction. You follow them and make sure you check the wind's direction to avoid Link to pick up your scent.
The group stops as you perch on a branch, your eyes widen at the sight of a large swirling portal.
'Is this why he doesn't let me come?' you thought, it looks dangerous and your crow instinct tells you to stay away from it. You watch as they enter the portal one by one, the last one was a man in armour and has a scar over his right eye. He shares the most resemblance to Link.
He checks his surroundings as if making sure nobody is following before entering the portal. You wait a moment before you dive into the portal, you close your eyes and go through. You feel the breeze hit your feathers, you slowly open your eyes and see that you're no longer Faron Woods but instead an unfamiliar one.
'Where am I?' you thought. 'Urgh...I feel sick all the sudden' you cover your beak with your wing to hold back your breakfast.
"It feels great to be back" a voice said, you panic a little and quickly jump into a nearby bush. You take a peek to see the group up close, "Since we're at my place, lets gear up and start our search for Shadow" said the one in multi coloured tunic. "I want to pay my grandfather a visit before we go" he said. The group walks away and you quickly fly after them, you're not risking getting lost in an unknown place.
You follow the group from above and you can see a small house ahead, yet again you hide in the trees and watch them enter the house but others decide to stay outside and wait.
That would be your Link, a blonde with pink shades, a young boy, a dirty blonde with white cape and a man with a blue scarf.
"So, Twilight. What took you so long anyways?" questioned the one with the blue scarf. "I went to fetch some stuff from my house and talk to my friends" Twilight said. So, they called him Twilight instead of Link? Weird....
"Oh really? Then, what's that on your cheek then?" pinky said with a smirk on his lips. Twilight's hand touches the cheek and turns to look at the window to see lipstick on his cheek.
Twilight blush lightly, "Oooh~ our rancher has a special someone~" teases the scarf boy. "Wait what—really?!" gasped the little boy as he stared up at Twilight. "Do tell why you are keeping a maiden all to yourself, hm?" he smirked. "Oh hush it, Wars." Twilight said. "Haha, come on guys, stop teasing the rancher" smiles the one with the cape.
You hold back a snort as they tease Link or Twilight about his love life with you. The others come out from the house, "What's with the ruckus?" questioned the one in armour.
"Hey, Time! Guess what! Our rancher here has a girlfriend!" Warrior said, bringing Twilight in a headlock, pointing the lipstick mark on his cheek. "Oh—" Time was surprised and gave the rancher a teasing smile. "Malon would be delighted if she hears this" he said.
"Time!" Twilight shouted, face now burning from embarrassment. You watch the men laugh wholeheartedly, causing you to smile at it.
[ End of part ]
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t1oui · 2 days
Text
@jegulus-microfic | april 25th | headlights | 1,222 words | cw: mentions of a car accident, hospitals, mentions of smoking (nothing graphic)
Regulus tries so hard to think that Sirius is an idiot. That bloody thing'll kill you, he remembers saying. Sirius had only laughed. No one's laughing now.
It was just a Friday night. Regulus got home from work late and was looking forward to doing nothing until Monday morning. Was looking forward to being alone, sitting around with popcorn and staring at the telly until he fell asleep. Now, the idea of a simple night in feels light years away.
He never gets what he wants.
Sitting on a stiff white chair outside Sirius's room at St. Mungo's, Regulus's leg bounces up and down at a frantic pace, mind racing. Didn't he see the headlights? Didn't he try and stop? It wasn't his fault, they said. Regulus's older brother is in a hospital bed and he wants to strangle the idiot who put him there.
Remus is sitting across from him, eyes red-rimmed and body curled in around himself. He arrived before Regulus. Pettigrew was pacing until Remus yelled at him and he mumbled something about getting a coffee.
It feels like hours before Potter arrives. Regulus and Remus are only taking up two of maybe eight seats crowded into the hallway, but James sits right next to him. He's crying, too busy looking at his phone to pay Regulus any mind beside him.
"Why are you here?" Regulus grumbles. He sounds like shit. The corridor is far too bright for someone who wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. James glances up at him, looking confused and distressed and tired. God, Regulus is so fucking tired.
"My best friend is... he's...." James gestures helplessly to the room behind them. They're not whispering, but their voices are hoarse. Remus isn't paying attention anyway - he's been staring into space for hours now. "He's in there."
"No," Regulus says, shaking his head in frustration. He hates when people don't understand him. "Why are you... here. There's so many seats."
James stares at him for a moment. He still holds his phone in his lap - if Regulus looks closely, he can see the name Lily written across the top of the screen with a pink flower beside it. James opens his mouth to speak, but Regulus interrupts him, pointing to the phone.
"That's a hibiscus flower, you know."
"What?" James doesn't sound like he's actually processing anything Regulus is saying. Regulus presses his finger next to Lily's contact name. He remembers her from school. He never liked her much.
"The flower here," he says. "It's not a lily. It's a hibiscus."
James sniffles, shrugging helplessly. "There's no lily emoji," he says. "This one's good enough."
Regulus doesn't say that he thinks that's sort of stupid. He's too tired to, and he knows James doesn't really care. Who does?
"I don't want to be lonely," James tells him. Regulus stares at his ear.
"What?"
"You asked," James says, shrugging again. He shrugs a lot. "Why I sat next to you."
Regulus looks up, glances over to Remus. He's managed to gather all of his limbs up onto the small hospital chair and is staring into space, eyes glazed over, arms wrapped around his knees. "Why didn't you sit next to him?"
James's answer comes so quiet that he has to lean closer to hear. "I'd still be alone."
Regulus stares at him. "Oh." He wonders where Pettigrew's gotten off to. Wonders if Lily will come to take James home, will gather Remus into the car too. Wonders who will take him home now that the motorcycle he hates so much is nothing more than a pile of scraps, its owner not much more.
"D'you wanna see a picture of my cat?" James asks. Regulus looks back at him. James is tilting his phone towards Regulus, even though he never answered, and Regulus finds himself leaning closer again to look. His cheek brushes James's shoulder, and he expects James to tense up - they barely know each other. James is probably humoring him, but his best friend's weird little brother leaning his head on his shoulder is probably the last straw. James is just being nice because he's sad. Last Regulus heard, he has a pretty girl and a son waiting for him at home.
But James leans into the touch. Regulus is too tired to pull away. (Part of him doesn't want to pull away. He tells this part to be quiet.)
"Her name's Leo," James says, holding up his phone to reveal a small gray tabby. The smile is evident in his voice, which is soft and close to Regulus's ear. It sounds like a lullaby. "Harry named her."
"Leo," Regulus says softly. James's curls are tickling his cheek. It's not an unpleasant feeling - it reminds him of walking barefoot over grass on a sunny day.
"Like the constellation," James explains. "It's Haz's favorite. 'Course, he is a Leo, so he's a bit biased there...."
Regulus glances down and notices his fingers loosely intertwined with James's. He doesn't remember doing that.
"Leo's the constellation -" he begins.
"Your star," James replies. He sighs softly, content but a little shaky. "Yeah."
They're both silent for a while. It's weirdly comfortable, even in the buzzing hospital, even with Remus sitting numb across from them and Sirius laying unconscious behind them and Peter knocking around, probably smoking the pack of cigarettes Regulus saw him slip out of Remus's pocket before he disappeared.
"Is Lily going to pick you up?" Regulus asks.
"She has Harry tonight," James says instead of answering. It only leaves Regulus with more questions.
"I thought..." Regulus begins, but he doesn't know what he thinks, not really. James seems to, though.
"We broke up," he says simply. He shrugs a little, only one shoulder, trying not to jostle Regulus's head. "Few years ago."
Regulus is quiet for a while. He remembers school, seeing James's golden-brown arm wrapped around Lily's pale shoulders. He remembers a pang of pain at the sight, feels it now, a dull ache located deep within his chest. "I'm sorry to hear that," he says, but he doesn't sound sincere.
"Don't be," James says. He's turned his head, and his lips brush just barely against Regulus's forehead. He should pull away, but instead, he just closes his eyes. "She's my best friend."
Regulus squeezes James's hand. "I'm glad you're here," he whispers.
James squeezes back. "I'm glad you're here, too," he replies.
He sets his phone down on his lap, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a jumbled ball of headphones. He tries for a minute or so to untangle them one-handed before finally sighing and pulling his fingers out from between Regulus's, pulling the earbuds into his phone. He hands one to Regulus.
"Put it in," he says, watching Regulus do nothing.
"Why?" Regulus asks.
"It's too... something in here."
Regulus gives him a small smile as he puts the earbud in. It fits weird, but not uncomfortable weird like he remembers. Just different. As he settles his head back onto James's shoulder, a soft melody begins to play into his ear. James sets the phone down on his knee before taking Regulus's hand again, resting his head against Regulus's curls. Regulus takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.
Maybe this night won't be as long as he thought.
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foolishlovers · 1 day
Note
Could you do a collection of found family fic recs??? 👀 or maybe a rare pair collection??
here are some good omens found family fic recs:
An Angel's Wrath (or At Least He's Trying) by Mysti_Gayle (G, 1k) Adam hated knowing that he had caused them so much stress this evening, particularly Aziraphale, whom he greatly admired for his kindness. Now, he had felt like he had taken advantage of that, and the guilt crushed him.
Four-Letter Accusations by Pink_October_Bones (G, 1k) Warlock has a suspicion that Nanny might not be as loveless as she likes to claim.
Never Have I Ever (Been Myself) by FeralTuxedo (M, 28k) Aziraphale Fell, BAFTA-winning actor of stage and screen, is bored. Bored of playing middle-aged divorcees in dull BBC dramas. Bored of answering the same questions on chat shows and breakfast television. Bored of keeping the real him hidden away. So when the opportunity presents itself to collaborate with up-and-coming rock band Witching Hour, he takes it, against his own common sense and the condescending advice of his agent. Witching Hour’s mysterious guitarist Crowley, flame-haired, moody, and a good fifteen years his junior, certainly seems worth the risk. A human actor/rock star AU.
search terms by Vagabond (M, 43k) Aziraphale expects it to be a quiet night working in the university library when a flashy red haired, foul mouthed, panicking student needs to find credible sources for his paper and can't figure out how to use the search. Little does Aziraphale know that meeting Crowley will lead him on a path to self-discovery, and give him the family he didn't realize he needed.   From a prompt on tumblr: College AU - You’re REALLY GOOD at using the right search terms for the academic databases and I’m on a deadline.
Loving You Slow by TawnyOwl95 (E, 46k) Crowley just wants to dance, but he's not prepared to sell his soul (and other things) at Mayfair's Hellfire Club to do it. Tending bar at The Bookshop in Soho is just the escape he needs, providing Crowley can convince the club’s owner he really belongs on the stage. Unfortunately Aziraphale Eastgate is not quite the generous guardian angel Crowley has been led to believe. Welcome to The Bookshop, where it always pays to look under the covers.
It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine by Dervila, elf_on_the_shelf (E, 63k) After Adam's parents die in a car crash, Aziraphale is forced to start taking care of him as more than just an uncle. Don't get him wrong, he loves the little devil, it's just that he is completely clueless and could rather use some help. In comes Crowley, Adam's new nursery school teacher with his amazing skills in dealing with kids. Could he be the answer to all of Aziraphale's prayers - Adam-related and otherwise? Well, it looks like he might be just that, judging by the weird things Aziraphale's heart seems to be doing whenever he sets eyes on the man. Now, if only the tall ginger returned his feelings…
Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (E, 70k) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.
Barriers, and the Breaking Thereof by Cardinal_Daughter (M, 71k) Ezra Fell has long been comfortable in his loneliness. He’s content to simply run the Soho Public Library and otherwise keep to himself. However, when a handsome stranger bursts in one evening with a baby, frantic and in need of help, Ezra finds those carefully constructed barriers he’s long maintained begin to crack. Perhaps it’s time to let them fall. Human AU. Complete.
The Sometimes Wife by AgentStannerShipper (E, 74k) It is a truth universally acknowledged that older brothers are the worst. As the youngest of three children, Parson Aziraphale Fell has been given an ultimatum: find a wife, or lose the family's support. The only problem? Aziraphale has never looked at a woman that way in his life. His attention has instead been captured by the family gardener, a beautiful young man who holds Aziraphale's heart in his hands. But when a mysterious newcomer arrives in the village, Aziraphale finds himself falling - quite unexpectedly - for her as well. Aziraphale knows he will have to choose. After all, it's not as if he can have both…can he?
What We Make of It (Shotgun Wedding) by charlottemadison (E, 213k) The important thing, Crowley tells himself -- the most important thing -- is Adam, his brilliant, creative, empathetic nephew. Being fourteen's hard enough; the kid didn't ask to deal with the weight of the world on top of it. And if taking care of Adam means Crowley has to tough it out at a job he can’t stand, so be it. And if Crowley's job means that Adam’s charming English teacher is NOT a romantic possibility, well, that's just how things go. But the occasional drink with Aziraphale proves hard to resist. They frequent the same pub, so who can object to them saying hello? Briefly sharing a table? Perhaps a little conversation? The painful knowledge that it can’t be anything more -- not without somebody getting fired or sued or both -- well, that can't be helped. Until Crowley stumbles onto a terribly reckless idea…
i also love writing found family fics myself:
The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (E, 66k) When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.
Tales of Turning Pages by foolishlovers (E, 73k) Every Tuesday, aspiring romance novelist Anthony J. Crowley pays a visit to his local library and the charming angel working there. Every Tuesday, Aziraphale Fell finds himself more and more intrigued by the curious stranger who turns his orderly life as a small-town librarian upside down.
Wild Hearts by foolishlovers (E, 56k+, WIP) In the idyllic English countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, two teachers at Willowbrook Hall set out to transform their students’ lives through the world of theatre. But for Mr. Crowley, the challenge of navigating his long hidden feelings and dear friendship with Mr. Fell may prove to be the greatest drama of all.
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recurring-polynya · 3 days
Note
hello, congrats on one mil!! you mentioned (very) off handedly in the tags a long time ago that an au where renji was byakuya's sibling would be difficult because renji would want hugs and Kuchiki Do Not Hug. ever since ive been wondering: what exactly would it take for byakuya to give renji a hug? this is my prompt to you. any and all external influences are permissible but it has to be a real, proper hug. no side hugs allowed. bonus (infinite) points for rukia being somewhere in the mix.
I thought about this for 20 minutes and then just yes, and...'d my way through the rest of this. It was very fun! Hopefully someone else finds this half as funny as I did.
| read on ao3 | request guidelines |
❄️ ☃️ ❄️
"Hitsugaya here."
"Hello, Captain Hitsugaya, it is Captain Kuchiki."
"..."
"I am calling from Lieutenant Abarai's phone."
"Of course you are. What's up?"
"I have a question. What is the standard treatment for hypothermia?"
"...why are you asking?"
"When a person dives into very cold water, say, if they were chasing a semi-aquatic Hollow into a lake and the air temperature is below--"
"Kuchiki, how do you have Abarai's phone if he just jumped into a lake after a semi-aquatic Hollow?"
"Because he threw it at me and yelled 'call Rukia and ask her how to treat hypothermia, I'm sure she knows.'"
"But you didn't call Rukia."
"I did not. I would prefer if she did not find out that I let Abarai jump into a frozen lake. I did not mean to. He is very quick and also a bad listener. Hmm. The water is turning very red. Hollows do not usually have red blood. It would probably be a bad idea to jump in after him, don't you think? Then, we would both have hypothermia."
"Where are the two of you?"
"The thirty-first district of North Rukongai."
"Okay, that's too far away. (yes, it's your brother. no, everything is not fine. no, i think it's better if you let me talk to him.)"
"Is my sister there?"
"Yes, your sister is here."
"What are you doing with my sister, Hitsugaya Toushirou? She already has an official, family-approved suitor!"
"Does she, Kuchiki? Or does she have an official, family-approved popsicle? (no! no, stop grabbing! Matsumoto, some help please!)"
"Forget what I said earlier, he is coming out of the lake now. (Abarai! What is the limb situation? Ah, excellent, well done!) He even has all of his limbs. He does look rather pale and is shaking a lot, so perhaps we should get back to the hypothermia question."
"To be honest, I don't know that much about it. Usually I'm trying to freeze people to death. I only know what they teach in the decadal first aid refresher. Maybe you shouldn't have done that sleeping-with-your-eyes-open thing the last time we had--"
"Captain Hitsugaya, perhaps we could save the recriminations for later. Abarai is dying."
"Fine. I'm giving the phone to Rukia, who is here to work on her bankai, the same as every Tuesday afternoon. Kuchiki, tell your brother how to fix the hypothermia he gave your boyfriend."
"Brother!"
"Hello, Rukia! I would like to clarify, I did not 'give' Abarai hypothermia. He is very difficult to--"
"Stop talking, I know how he is. I am not holding you responsible. I only heard half the conversation, is he wet?"
"He dove into a lake, so yes."
"Okay, your first priority should be to dry him off."
"(Abarai, Rukia says you need to dry off. Yes, I know I have told you not to do that. Go ahead and do it. Just try not to get me--ugh! I told you not to--!")
"Is he trying to dry off by shaking himself like a dog? Don't let him do that!"
"It is surprisingly effective."
"It could also cause him to go into cardiac arrest so please don't let him do that!"
"(Abarai, Rukia says your heart will stop working if you do that. Yes, it sounds fake to me, too. I am just the messenger.)"
"I would hang up on you, except that then Renji would definitely die. Look, is there shelter nearby? Somewhere you can get him inside?"
"No. Can I just pick him up and flash step him back to town?"
"No, that would also cause his heart to stop. (Captain Hitsugaya, can we send a message down to-- oh, you already have? Oh, great, thank you!) Captain Hitsugaya has already called the Fourth. They're sending a medic to you, but it'll probably be at least an hour. In the meantime, you need get him dry and start to warm him up. Do you have any spare clothes?"
"Why would we have spare clothes?"
"I don't know! Sometimes people carry spare capes! They come in handy! Can you give him your haori?"
"Of course not, he hasn't passed the Captains' Examination."
"Okay, well, make him take his wet clothes off, and you figure out which parts of your outfit you can spare. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."
"Oh, I see. Hmm. Wait, Rukia. Before I disrobe, I read a book once, where someone was in a cold climate and they were freezing to death, and they killed a bear--"
"Do not put Renji inside the dead Hollow, Byakuya. I mean it."
"Hollows disintegrate when they die, Rukia, and even if they didn't, he left it at the bottom of the lake. (You did kill it, right? All right, good.) Ahem. I was just thinking that I could find a bear--"
"You do not have time to find and kill a bear, Brother."
"Hmm. Very well. (Abarai, take off your pants. Rukia says so.)"
(various mumbling and other noises)
"All right. I have returned. Abarai is wrapped up in both our cloaks."
"Wait, you had a cloak this whole time?"
"Of course I had a cloak. We went to the mountains of North Rukongai. Of course we dressed appropriately. Abarai even had the presence of mind to remove his before jumping in the lake. (Yes, I know it was so you could swim better. Do you wish to take this phone call?)"
"You could have--you know what? Never mind. Okay, do you have any field rations with you? Getting some warm food or liquid in him would be very helpful. Even if you can just warm some water with kidou and give it to him, that would be good."
"We did not bring any provisions. We were only supposed to come out here for an afternoon and we did not expect to have to leave town. (No, Abarai, I do not think you should drink that lake water. Well, a Hollow died in it, for one thing.)"
"Brother, do me a favor. Go touch his skin and tell me what it feels like."
"His skin?"
"Yes, I want to know if it's cold."
"Does it matter where?"
"Not really, I guess."
"(Abarai, stick your arm out of the cloak. Look, this is very unpleasant for both of us!) I am touching his arm. I would say it is approximately 30C."
"How can you-- never mind. I don't want to know. Is he shivering? Are his teeth chattering?"
"Less so than before, on both counts. That is good, right? That means he is warming up?"
"No, it means his body is shutting down. Is he still talking to you? Is he lucid?"
"He is still talking, a thing that I assume he would keep doing even after all other vital signs have ceased. I will check the state of his reason. (Abarai, who was the captain of Sixth Squadron during the Hellish Dangai Incursion of 892? No, it's not a trick question. All right, it's a little bit of a trick question…That's a really questionable interpretation of events, Abarai. No, I do not think there are any historians that would agree with you.) Rukia, I will be honest. He is not at his best."
"If he's talking and making sense, that's…something at least. But he's not in good shape and you've got to do something to help him warm up until the medic gets there."
"'Sense' is really debatable, Rukia."
"I think you're going to have to do the kaidou, Brother."
"My understanding is that the body temperature stabilization kidou should only be performed in a sheltered location by a trained Squad 4 medic."
"Yeah, that's the clinical one, and you are correct. You need to do the emergency one. It's not as good generally, but it's less tricky. It should help, though! Zabimaru runs hot, so if you can just give them a jumpstart, Renji will probably stabilize by himself."
"(Oh, is that so?) Abarai says you cast this on him 'all the time.' Why didn't you bring this up earlier? And why are you freezing my lieutenant 'all the time'?"
"He likes it. And I assumed you would refuse!"
"Why would I refuse? Which kaidou is it again?"
"Did you really sleep through the decadal first aid refresher? It's number 17!"
"Number 17…that's the one where…oh."
"Can you do it, Brother?"
"..."
"Brother?"
"When you say you do this to him 'all the time', is it because you are truly giving him hypothermia constantly, or is it just a ploy to…you know?"
"..."
"Rukia?"
"Must it be one or the other, Brother?!"
"Well, I was just wondering if the full body contact was truly compulsory, or if maybe I could just…do it from a respectful distance."
"You have to hug him, Brother."
"..."
"It's not so bad, Brother! You nearly cut off an arm and a leg to save me once!"
"...what if I were to sit next to him, so that our sides were touching? I…I could probably even put my arm around him."
"A side-hug is not going to cut it! The whole trick of the thing is getting your saketsu and hakusui close enough to his! You can hug him from behind, if that makes things better."
"I think that might actually be worse, Rukia."
"You're just going to have to hug him normally, then. Renji gives very good hugs! I tell you it won't be so bad! Just do it!"
"I am only doing this for you, Rukia."
"I appreciate it, Brother."
"(All right, Abarai. Brace yourself. As unpleasant as it is, I am going to have to--no, I will not 'bring it in!' Why must you make this worse than it already is?)"
(unintelligible)
"Brother? Brother, are you still there?"
"I am still here. I am doing it. I am hugging him. This is terrible."
"Are you doing the kaidou?"
"...right. The kaidou. I am now doing the kaidou. Ahem."
"Hi, Rukia, can you hear me? He's got the phone kinda close to my face and I can hear you!"
"Renji, is that you?!"
"It's me! He's hugging me, Rukia! This is so weird!"
"We can memory wipe both of you later, probably."
"No, I mean, he's really bad at it! This is the worst hug I have ever gotten!"
"Shut up, Abarai."
"I think you need to relax a little, Captain. Loosen up those arms."
"I do not want pointers, Abarai."
"Well, I'm having--a little trouble--breathing."
"Oh. I see. Yes, sorry."
"Not to interrupt all the fun you two are having, but does it seem to be working?"
"I have no idea. Abarai, is it working?"
"It's pretty different than when you do it, Rukia, but I think it is. Can I have a real hug when I get home?"
"You can have as many hugs as you want when you get home."
"Ahem."
"I am trying to keep him thinking positive, Brother! You can also have as many hugs as you want when you get home! It sounds like you need some practice."
"..."
"Or if you'd rather just have a stiff drink, I'm sure that can also be arranged."
"As you say, Rukia: why not both?"
"Sounds good to me, Brother!"
~end
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months
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No teen farewell is complete without embarrassment.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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audisive · 1 month
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♪ WEST COAST. (💌) – next part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.
tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon
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Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself. 
Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.
"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?" "My enemies' sweat and tears."
(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)
Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!
He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable. 
Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.
"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.
"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"
Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."
It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.
It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.
"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.
"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.
Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?
Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.
When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.
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    divider by @cafekitsune !
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biancabi · 6 months
Text
Dick: *Forcing a smile* Being an older brother is a wonderful and surprising thing. You can always find yourself in situations you never thought you would happen!!!
-
Dick: *Freaking out* What was the only thing I said not to do??!!
Duke: *Guilty* Create a cult for the second time.
Dick: AND WHAT WAS WHAT YOU DID???
Duke: ....Create a cult for the second time.
Duke: ....
Duke: In my defense it was completely accidental.
-
Dick: Hey Dami, have you seen-WHAT IS SO???
Damian: Grayson keep your voice down, your screams will alert everyone.
Dick: *Deep breath* Dami, babybat, my little brother. Why is there a giraffe hanging out on your balcony?
Damian: Her name is Macbeth and I think that's obvious, she's too big to come into my room.
Dick: Where did you find a giraffe in damn Gotham???No, don't answer that. Does Bruce know about this??
Damian: No Grayson, you're the first to hear about Macbeth joining the family.
Dick: Okok, This is all Bruce's fault and I refuse to deal with this now.
-
Jason: Hypothetically speaking, how bad would it be if during the patrol I dropped my bombs that explode when touched on the wrong side?
Dick: ....I'm sorry? What?
Jason: Just a hypothetical situation, it doesn't mean he dropped bombs there.
Dick: What the fuck, Jason!? Really What the fuck?!
-
Tim: *With zero hours of sleep and 5 boxes of red bull*. I HAVE DISCOVERED IT!!
Dick: I don't want to ask, god knows nothing good comes of that, but what have you discovered, Timy??
Tim: *Jumping with excitement* I have discovered the identity of the criminal mind we have been investigating.
Dick: I take back what I said, that's good news. Who is it??
Tim: IT'S BRUCE WAYNE!!
Dick: ...
Dick: Did you know?? I said nothing. What made you think it's Bruce Wayne?
Tim: *Fretically moving hands* Just think about it, whenever Bruce Wayne leaves events early there's some big crime or breakup of Arkham, plus he always reappears with suspicious injuries and attributes them to his clumsiness. One part of his money mysteriously disappears from his boxsafe, his segurity is too good to be a theft or mistake, it must be your financing at evil ends and-
Dick: Tim, Don't you forget that Bruce-
Tim: AND YOU HAVEN'T HEARD THE BEST PART.
Dick: What could-
Tim: HIS CHILDREN ARE TRAINED KILLERS AND RUN HIS CRIMINAL EMPIRE.
Dick: *Looking for the sedative and sleeping pills* Are they?? Tell me more.
-
Dick: Everyone should feel the joy -suffering- of being an older brother -it's all Bruce's fault, I must have been an only child-
*Voices of Tim and Damian fighting in the background with Jason cheering them on*
Dick: Above all I love my brothers.
*Sound of breaking glass and Duke's surprised scream*
Dick: *Trying to convince himself* I really, really love them.
*Gliter bomb explosion*
Dick: ....
Dick: *Whispering* I don't get paid enough for this. Damn Bruce.
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koenigami · 6 months
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not sure if you allow it, but how does wriothesly react when the reader uses their safe word during an intense session?
tags : fem!reader, smut, crying, use of safeword, aftercare, comfort, +18
It's hot in the room, the constant gurgling of the pipes reminding you that WRIOTHESLEY must have turned up the heating higher than usual. Then why is your body shivering, with goosebumps all over your skin? You can't see him, can't hear him because he has barely talked to you ever since he's returned from his office. Yet you feel his large, intimidating form loom over your body from behind. You can't speak, can barely breathe with his constricting hand around your throat that somehow seems to get tighter by every passing second.
He's immune to your whimpers, to the tears rolling down your cheeks. With each forceful thrust of his, you hear the bed creak and feel your knees get weaker, your body loosing strength until you're nothing but a limp toy for him. You want to get up, push him away, but the grip his other hand has on your wrists while holding them behind your back- He's just too strong.
That's when even the last ounce of pleasure leaves your body and you're left with nothing but dread and panic. "Red, p-please." you barely recognise your own voice, hoarse and frightened. "No more, please, red."
The pressure on your windpipes is gone instantly. You realise it, not by the oxygen that is easier entering your airways, no, because you still feel like you're suffocating. You realise it because his warmth is as well gone in an instant. W-Where did he go?
Rough hands are all over your body, yet they treat you with so much care, helping you turn and lie on your back, soothing down your thighs. One of them at last settles on your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing it and wiping the tears away. "Y/n? Sweetheart, you with me?"
You sniffle and press the heels of your palms against your eyes, your chest shaking with more sobs that won't stop racking your body. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I-I don't even know-"
"No, no, don't apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for." Your brain still feels foggy as you finally look over at Wriothesley who's crouching beside the bed, giving you enough space to breathe yet still having his hands all over you, not wanting to let you go. Nonetheless, you're able to notice the tension in his posture, in his facial expressions. "Just try to relax, alright? You're okay now." his hand shifts to your hair, fingers combing through the messy strands until they settle on your scalp, soothingly massaging you there. "You did good. It was too much, wasn't it?"
"Couldn't breathe." you whisper and realise that you feel so small in his presence, but not in an inferior way. Wriothesley may look all brutish and intimidating with a strength that could crush any allegedly impenetrable door in the fortress, but you're well aware that he would never use that strength against people that he cares about. "And, uhm-"
Piercing blue eyes watch as you nervously fiddle with the blanket that he has covered you with. But the little peck he gives you on your shoulder tells you that he wants to let you have a breather and take as much time as you need to sort your thoughts. "You seemed a-angry. You were so quiet and, I don't know. It was..."
"Scary?" he finishes for you, a gentle and reassuring smile plastered on his face that alleviates the pressure on your chest.
"Yeah."
Silence invades the bedroom for a short moment, making you forget that you're miles beneath the water surface, that the room which you share with him belongs to a prison, that a few moments prior your body has been in a fight-or-flight mode. The silence reminds you that you're safe and that all of this, all of him, is home. "Will you come back to bed? And hold me?"
Wriothesley's eyes soften at your request and the timid sound of your voice. "Of course, my love." His knees pop when he eventually gets up, pressing a fleeting kiss on your temple before he picks his pants up from the floor and puts them on. Despite the previous events, you can't help but feel a light heat creep up your neck when you get a sight of his naked buttocks.
"Careful with those wandering eyes. I might think you want to continue where we left off." Wriothesley chuckles when you pull the blanket over your head, a futile attempt to hide your embarrassed expression.
"Come here." the mattress dips beside you and you let him tug the blanket off your head. The warmth and smell of his make you sigh in contentment once he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm the one who should apologise. I was not aware of how much I was hurting you."
The teasing smirk and brief leisurely attitude are gone, replaced by a seriousness that you usually only get to see when he's handling work related matters. He kisses your face again and again, further silent apologies that he hopes will lessen the pain inside your chest. And his. "I was a little irritated, yes, but that had nothing to do with you. Some inmates got their hands on a few bottles of wine." he explains. "Those drunkards started spewing lots of nonsense when I confronted them about it."
What did they say?" you inquire quietly, your eyes slowly but surely feeling heavier. With a palm against his naked chest, you notice the rapid heartbeat but decide to not give it any mind, since Wriothesley's tender strokes along your back are truly not making it easy for you to stay awake and think straight.
He stops his movements for a short moment, clenching and unclenching his fist as his eyes trail over the red, irritated skin of his knuckles.
"Your grace has turned quite soft." "Your little mouse must be doing a great job in bed, huh?" "Why don't you lend her to us? I'm sure we could teach her a thing or two?"
"Nothing you should worry your head about." his voice is merely a whisper as his lips move against your forehead before he buries his nose in your hair and resumes to trace more soothing shapes on your lower back.
a/n : thank you for your patience, dear anon! hope you'll see this since your request has been sitting for a while in my inbox-
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hauntedrain · 3 months
Text
For Years! | Max Verstappen x Reader |
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Social media AU Summary: Max and reader get criticism over the status of their relationship.
✮▹ A/N: So sorry for not posting for so long. Life has been BUSY. but hopefully i can post more and write more! Love you guys <3
✰▹Warnings/Notices: Not edited. nothing really. reader mentioned to write music
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Liked by Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, & 3,345,678 others
@Y/N: Lovely time lately.
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user1: LMFAO MAX.
user2: Y/N you'll always been iconic
user3: sometimes I forget Max Verstappen is dating THE Y/N L/N.
↪ user4: SO TRUE. It completely passes my mind that they've been together before he even got to F1.
↪ user5: THEY'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 9 YEARS?
↪ user6: YEA ITS WILD.
↪ user7: wait but they haven't gotten married or anything?
↪ user8: Yea no. They also avoid the questions around it. Kind of weird to me.
↪ user9: But hasn't Y/N written songs about marriage and getting married? Why haven't they?
↪ user10: Maybe they just don't want to. Or max doesn't.
MaxVerstappen: Why did you choose that photo of me.
↪ Y/N: You want me to post the photo from yesterday?
↪ MaxVerstappen: NO.
↪ user11: LMFAO. PARENTS.
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Liked by Y/N, Redbull, & 2,345,567 others
@MaxVerstappen: Great race and great win! Getting ready for next week. And thank you to @Y/N for making me but those glasses, best purchase.
View all 14,567 comments
Y/N: I told you they were a good investment
↪ MaxVerstappen: I don't know if you would call it an investment.
↪ Y/N: I'll post that picture.
↪MaxVerstappen: It was a great investment! better than a house!
↪ user12: better than a ring?
↪ user13: STOP. but no fr, wheres the ring Max?
user14: Okay nice win but when yall getting married?
user15: everyone needs to mind their business, maybe they're just not ready to get married and that okay.
↪ user16: But its been 9 YEARS. NINE YEARS. Its a red flag.
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liked by 18,234 others
@F1GOSSIP: Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N have been criticized over the status of their relationship. The couple has been together for over 9 years however many fans have realized that there's been no movement in the relationship, family and marriage vise. Thought?
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user17: I mean its their life but 9 years?
user18: Idk guys don't hate me but sometimes max doesn't seem interested in Y/N. Like all of the Monaco GP? seem happy around her.
↪ user19: Bro look at the pictures in the post. Does he seem unhappy in them? No he seems very happy.
↪ user20: Okay but lets be honest. Both only seem that happy in front of a camera.
User21: I mean for some of their relationship they were fairly young. Maybe they just wanna enjoy it little by little.
↪ user22: I think in 9 years you can enjoy a lot.
user23: I wouldn't marry her either. Max knows what's best which is why he hasn't done it.
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Y/N has posted to their story!
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liked by 6,678,567 others
@MaxVerstappen: happy 3 year anniversary @Y/N. love you much and cant wait for years to come. Also, people said I hated her? How could I?
view all 35,567,878 comments
Y/N: Guys my husband is kinda cool.
↪ MaxVerstappen: Kinda?
↪ Y/N: yea cuz im cooler than you.
↪ MaxVerstappen: Okay love.
user24: WTF 3 YEARS?
user25: max said hold my 3x WDC titles while I make everyone shut up about my relationship.
↪ Y/N: He just wins everything doesn't he?
↪ CharlesLeclerc: Yea its kinda annoying. you should distract him Y/N
↪ MaxVerstappen: Dont tell my wife to distract me, I'll lose.
↪ CharlesLeclerc: thats the point.
↪ LandoNorris: I just wanna win.
↪ user26: LMFAO WHAT IS HAPPENING
↪ Y/N: Im collecting them all
User27: And people said max didnt wanna marry her.
user28: Bro just keeps winning doesnt he. Y/N GIVE ME A CHANCE.
user29: if you look closely you can see me getting run over by an F1 car.
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⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: I hope you guys like it! I need to post more but ive gotten so busy and haven't had the time. But I'll try to post more often. Love you guys! hope you enjoyed.
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caramelcal · 9 months
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Hi, I love your story!! I wanted to know if you can do a when theo is jealous and leave hickey to fem reader. If your not comfortable that’s fine thank you 🤭.
LOVEBITES AND POTIONS
word count: 1.4k
a/n: hiya lovely! thank you for sending a request<3
warnings: fem!reader, no house specified. jealous!theo. boyfriend!theo, playful allegations of cheating/going on dates with others. hickeys.
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"Hey, y/n!" A voice called out from behind you, halting you in your movements.
It was a Friday, and you had just left your last class of the day, ready to relax over the weekend with your boyfriend, Theo. That's where you were heading right now; to his dorm.
Well, until someone called out from you.
"I'm glad I caught up with you," The voice said as you turned around, eyes catching onto Zacharias, a Hufflepuff boy in your year, and your potions partner.
"Hi, Zacharias," You gave the boy a pleasant smile, trying to be as nice as possible. You held your books in your hands in front of your chest, looking at the boy who seemed a little out of breath.
"Hi, um-" He started, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes cast away from you for a second, "I wanted to talk to you about our potions project."
You looked at him with a small smile, urging him to go on as he took a deep breath. Tons of students bustled around the two of you, loud, excited to get off to their dorms or hang out with their friends, and although you wanted nothing more than to run to Theo's dorm, you were patient with the boy in front of you.
He seemed nervous.
"Well, I was thinking we could get a headstart on our project, maybe tomorrow in the library?" He proposed, his eyes looking pretty much everywhere but your face, "I mean, I really need a good grade on this project, and I know that you like to..."
Zacharias continued, but you zoned out a little as your eyes caught on to a particular group of Slytherin boys. They all joked about, pushing each other, and just acting generally boisterous. Not a single one of them wore their robes, all claiming to be far too cool for them, their ties loosened and white sleeves rolled up.
Your eyes caught onto the familiar tall figure of your boyfriend as he laughed, his blue eyes catching onto yours as you smiled, getting a smile in return. His friends all started to notice you too, riling Theodore up as boys do when they saw the look in his eyes.
"Y/n?" A hand gently brushed against your shoulder, drawing your attention back towards Zacharias, his eyebrows slightly drawn, and a slight redness in his cheeks.
"That sounds like a good idea, Zacharias," His face brightened a little, "but I can't do tomorrow, I have plans with my boyfriend, sorry."
"Oh."
"We can start on Sunday though? How does that sound?"
A small smile makes its way back onto Zacharias' lips as he nods, "Yeah, that sounds good."
Before you can respond, however, to work out times or anything, you hear a call from behind you, "Y/n! C'mon! We don't have all day!"
Your head whips around, hearing Draco shout after you to get you to hurry up, only to realise all of the Slytherin boys are staring at you, waiting for you to come with them. With a smile, you turn back around and say your goodbyes to Zacharias, before practically skipping over to the boys.
Your eyes don't move from the tall blue-eyed boy, your arms thrown over his shoulders as you reach up and peck him on the cheek. His eyes don't quite meet yours, focusing on something behind you as his hands snake possessively around your waist, a kiss being placed on your forehead.
Then, you're whisked away to the Slytherin common room, and soon enough, Theodore's dorm. The door shuts behind your boyfriend as you place your books down on his bedside table, and he wastes little time pulling your robe away from your neck and down your shoulders, slipping it off your body.
"I missed you," You spoke quietly as you turned around in your boyfriend's hold, your hands going over his shoulders and curling into the hair on the nape of his neck.
Your head is on his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and cigarettes, eyes closing at the comfort it brings you.
Theo hummed in response, pulling back a little as he picked you up with ease, placing you down on his bed as he sat beside you, facing you.
His lips soon find yours, his hand sitting around the back of your neck, keeping your lips firmly on his as his thumb caresses your hair away from the side of your neck. His free hand pulls at your tie, then unbuttons the top two buttons of your shirt, moving the fabric to free the side of your neck.
Then, his lips latch onto your neck, near your jaw, and the second you feel him suck and his teeth lightly graze over the skin, you know exactly what he's trying to do.
"Theo, lower. Those marks are going to be visible above my uniform."
Yet, he doesn't stop. In fact, he seems even more eager to mark up the side of your neck when he hears those words tumble from your lips.
"Theo."
He pulled away a little, but you could still feel his soft breaths against the bare skin of your neck. You looked down at him with a quizzical look.
"Why are you doing it so high?"
He avoided the question, his hands pushing your hair back once more as his eyes cast back down to the skin of your neck, "You excited about your date with your little boyfriend?"
"I didn't realise we'd planned a date this weekend."
"I'm talking about your other boyfriend," He quipped back sarcastically, before his lips made contact with another spot on your neck, littering what you can guarantee are going to be countless dark bruises along your neck.
Your eyebrows furrow at this remark as you try to piece together what Theodore could possibly be talking about. What other plans did you even have?
"Are you talking about Zacharias? He's just helping me with our potions project," You informed your boyfriend, your hand coming up to grab at the strands of his soft hair once more.
"Tell him to leave it, I'm better at potions anyway. I'll help you," Theodore bargained, without his mouth moving away from your neck.
He wasn't wrong. Theodore was brilliant at potions, but regardless of that, it was your and Zacharias' project, not you and Theodore's.
"Wait," A subtle smirk came to your lips as you began to piece together what was happening, your hand pushing Theo away from your neck, "Are you jealous, Theo?"
You held him in such a way that he was unable to attach his lips to your neck to continue his attack, your head tilting a little as you waited for a response.
Theodore rolled his eyes in response, mumbling, "No."
"Are you sure?" You pouted a little, raising an eyebrow at the way his eyes were cast to the side, not looking you in the eyes. His hair was a little messed up, and a small pout had made its way to his lips, too. He crossed his arms over his chest, almost comically, as if he was a child in a huff.
"That puff has nothing on me," He mumbled cockily, making you laugh softly as you moved your hands from holding him back. Not skipping a beat, Theo latched his lips back onto your skin, on the opposite side now.
"Stop," You laughed a little, "Snape's going to have a heart attack if he sees these."
You had absolutely no doubt that these were going to be a pain in the ass to hide. Even with your hair down, it was going to be a real struggle. With how many Theodore had left too, you knew the chances of you being able to cover them with makeup was going to be difficult, too.
"Hope the puff does, too," Theodore mumbled almost childishly.
"Don't be jealous, Theo," You spoke softly, your hand coming up to play with his hair once more, your other hand rubbing his back, "You know I'm yours."
"You're right," Theodore responded, pulling away from the last hickey he made, then pressing a soft kiss against your neck, now littered with marks, then your jaw, then your lips. Finally pulling back, his blue eyes meet yours, a smile coming to his face as he surveys his work, then your face, "All mine."
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